When Times Get Tough...

...the semi-tough post re-runs. To say that motivation is lacking is an exercise in understatement, Gentle Reader. So, without further ado...one of my favorite posts, from April of 2006.

When I was Eight

(Editor’s Note: Last year I wrote "When I Was Eight," a short story for my youngest son on the occasion of his eighth birthday. I’ve decided to post that story here, one chapter per day, for three days. Keep in mind the story was written for an eight year old…so the tone is quite simple!)

Chapter One: California to Georgia

There were four people in my family: my Mom, named Marie, my sister Norma, who is six years younger than me, my Dad, and I. My Mom was a housewife who also did office work from time to time, which was pretty unusual in the early 1950s. Most mothers didn’t work in those days; they usually stayed home and took care of the family. My father, whose name was also Buck, was in the Air Force. He was a “career” Air Force man, which means he was in the Air Force for over 20 years…just like I was. My Dad worked in the Air Force’s Office of Special Investigations, or OSI, which is sorta like the FBI, only military. In the late summer of 1952 my family was living in Sacramento, California. Dad was stationed at McClellan Air Force Base and the Air Force reassigned him to London, England. Dad was a captain at that time, just like your brother Buck is now. My Dad and Mom decided that Dad would go to England alone and find a house for us to live in, and then my Mom, my sister and I would join him after the house was set up for us.

My Dad left for England from California. My Mom, Norma, and I stayed behind and packed up all the furniture and stuff for the move to England. After the moving company picked up our stuff, my Mom packed Norma and I into our 1952 Hudson (that was the type of car we had) and we left for Atlanta, Georgia, where my grandmother lived. We were going to stay in Atlanta until Dad got our house in England ready for us. It took us about ten days to drive from California to Georgia. Back in those days there weren’t any fast, four-lane interstate highways…all the roads were two-lanes, for the most part. It took a lot longer to get from one place to another in those days! We had a pretty good trip, except for a breakdown in Salome, Arizona. Something went wrong with the car and it took three days to get it fixed. Salome was, and probably still is, a very, very small town and there wasn’t a Hudson dealer in that town. The mechanic that fixed our car had to order parts from either Tucson or Phoenix, I don’t remember which. We spent three days in a motel room waiting for the car to be fixed. I remember my Mom was pretty upset about the car breaking down and stranding us in this small town in the desert. The rest of the trip was uneventful, and we arrived in Atlanta safely. The trip was pretty exciting for a seven-year-old boy, and I had a lot of fun.

A 1952 Hudson. Ours was Green

My grandmother lived in a brick two-bedroom house in northern Atlanta, halfway between downtown Atlanta and a town called Buckhead. My great-grandmother lived with her, and they had lived in that same house for over 40 years…in fact, the house they lived in was the house my Mom grew up in. They lived in a nice neighborhood. There were big oak trees, crabapple trees, willow trees, and the house was about two hundred yards from Peachtree Creek, the site of a famous Civil War battle. I called my grandmother Mana (pronounced “Mah-nah”) and my great-grandmother Granny. Their real names were Estelle and Effie…good southern names! I always thought of them as being very old, but my grandmother was about the same age I am now, maybe younger. Mana worked at a company called Prior Tire in downtown Atlanta, and Granny took care of their house. Neither Mana nor Granny drove, and they didn’t own a car…they took taxis or the trolley to wherever they had to go.

Mana's House, 2185 Willow Avenue

So. We settled in to wait for Dad to write and tell us he had found a house and we could leave for England. The wait was longer than we expected, and I had to begin the third grade in Atlanta. My mom registered me at E. Rivers elementary school, about a 15 minute walk from Mana’s house. I don’t know what the “E” in E. Rivers stands for…I’m guessing that the E is the initial of some semi-famous person’s name, maybe Egbert, maybe Edward, or maybe Elizabeth. But it was a nice school. I don’t remember the names of my teacher or any of my classmates. I went to school there from September until early November of 1952. I walked to school every morning with two boys from the neighborhood, one was named Jamie (Something) and the other boy’s name was Bunky Pennell. Bunky was my best friend, and his name was actually Steven. People in the South have a strange habit of giving their kids nicknames, often silly sounding nicknames. But, those names didn’t seem silly at the time, ya know! I often wonder if Bunky went through his whole life being called Bunky, or if he changed his name to Steven once he grew up. I’ve kept MY nickname all through life. As a kid I was called Bucky, and as an adult I’ve always been known as Buck, never Norman. But I think Buck is a lot cooler than Norman, and certainly better than Bunky, don’t you think?

I suppose my stay in Atlanta was perfectly normal for a seven-year-old boy. I went to school, I rode my bike, I played with the kids in the neighborhood. I had a pretty cool bike, a Schwinn Roadmaster. It was red, with big white sidewall tires. It also had a small “tank,” sorta like a motorcycle tank, with two small headlights at the front of the tank. The headlights were battery powered and were pretty useless except for decoration purposes. But it looked cool! I really liked that bike, but it stayed behind in Mana’s garage when we went to England. Although I didn’t know it at the time, my Dad and Mom would replace that Schwinn with something better…but more on that, later.

An Old Schwinn, Similar to Mine

I had one exciting experience while in Atlanta, though. I took my first trip on an airplane. My grandfather and my grandmother were separated, and my grandfather lived in Tennessee. My grandfather bought airline tickets for my mom, Norma and I and we flew to see him in Tennessee. You almost never forget the first time you do something, and you certainly NEVER forget your first flight. We took an Eastern Airlines DC-6 (or maybe it was a DC-7…they were very similar) from Atlanta to Chattanooga, a flight of about an hour or so. I was so excited! Flying in those days was a BIG deal because airline travel was still relatively new, and most people who traveled either drove their cars, took the train, or took a bus. Flying was expensive and not many people did it.

An Eastern Air Lines Douglas DC-7

We stayed in Chattanooga for a short while, I don’t remember exactly how long. I didn’t know my grandfather all that well, and that trip to Tennessee was the last time I saw him. He died while we were stationed in Europe. I think I only saw my grandfather two or three times in my whole life. The grandfather I’m speaking of here was my Mom’s father. I never met or knew my father’s father.

Just like 2004, 1952 was an election year and the country was caught up in the campaign. The presidential campaign of 1952 is the first one I remember. Dwight Eisenhower, a very famous World War II general, was the Republican candidate for president and Adlai Stevenson was the Democratic candidate. I remember arguing with my grandmother about why Ike was better than Stevenson…after all, Ike was a Five-Star general and a war hero! What had Stevenson done that made him better than Ike? My Mom, Mana, and Granny all helped me understand what the election was all about, but if I remember correctly, I thought it was just a big game. Each political party (we have two major parties: the Republicans and the Democrats) has a “convention” during election years. People from all over the country gather in a city for a week and discuss the election, listen to speeches, and decide how they are going to run their campaign. The Republicans had their convention in New York City this year; the Democrats had theirs in Boston. In 1952, both parties had their conventions in Chicago. I remember all the adults in the house watched the two parties’ conventions on television that year, and they all thought it was a Big Deal. The one thing I remember about the conventions in 1952 was that they were on TV EVERY night for a week, and I didn’t get to watch my favorite TV shows. I didn’t like THAT!

One final thing about the election. I don’t know if you saw them, but people wear buttons during the election campaign with the name of their candidate on the button. It’s a way of letting people know who you support, and it’s also a way to get conversations started about politics. Here’s a picture of the button I had in 1952, and the button I had this year!

Campaign Buttons

Next: On to England.

Part III is here.

Space... Cyber and Otherwise

SN2 sent along a couple of links this morning, the first of which is a USAF document entitled “50 Cyber Questions Every Airman Can Answer,” written by Dr. Kamal T. Jabbour, ST (Senior Scientist, Information Assurance). The document is available here, in a 324Kb pdf. You might also want to check out the web site that hosts the document (Cyber Security Boot Camp)…if you’re into this sort of thing. You’ll also note the domain is “.com” and not “.mil,” making this site an unofficial USAF web site…even though it’s done up using the official USAF web site template. And all this just by way of introduction!

I went off the rails a couple of years ago when USAF revised its official mission statement. I’ll quote myself here:

So, I read over at The Officers Club (ed: dead link. The O Club is now OpFor.) that the USAF has a new mission statement, to wit:

The Air Force changed its mission statement yesterday. The old MS reads:

The mission of the U.S. Air Force is to is to defend the United States through control and exploitation of air and space.

The new mission reads:

The mission of the United States Air Force is to deliver sovereign options for the defense of the United States of America and its global interests -- to fly and fight in Air, Space, and Cyberspace.

I'll begin with the only good thing about the new mission statement: at least The Management incorporated the old, unofficial mission statement: “To Fly and To Fight.” So much for the good stuff.

Let's begin the rant.

And rant I did…particularly about incorporating the word “cyberspace” into the new mission statement. That word still irritates me for some unknown reason, but I’m a lil less irritated after reading the following (excerpted from the “50 Questions” document):

2. What is Cyberspace?

Author William Gibson coined the term cyberspace by combining cybernetics and space into the term cyberspace in his 1982 story “Burning Chrome” and popularized it is his 1984 novel Neuromancer. Gibson described cyberspace as “a consensual hallucination experienced daily by billions... A graphic representation of data abstracted from banks of every computer in the human system. Unthinkable complexity. Lines of light ranged in the nonspace of the mind, clusters and constellations of data.”

In the minds of many, cyberspace became synonymous to the Internet. In September 2006, the Joint Chiefs of Staff endorsed a definition of cyberspace as “a domain characterized by the use of electronics and the electromagnetic spectrum to store, modify and exchange data via networked systems and associated physical infrastructures."

We dissect this definition to derive the scientific basis of its intent. The word “domain” instead of “environment” carries legal implications under the laws of armed conflict. “Electronics and the electromagnetic spectrum” refer to the wave-particle duality of radiation which, when modulated with information, creates a signal. “Data and networked systems” refer to digital information and application programs, and the computers and networks on which they exist, in other words data and applications, at rest and in motion.

For warfare purposes, we derive a working definition of cyberspace as “a domain in which signals hold at risk intelligent systems.” This definition recognizes three components to cyberspace: (1) the “effectors” encompass a broad range of signal-borne threats, analog and digital; (2) the “medium” enables effectors to access the targets, wired and wireless, hardware and software; and (3) the “targets” include weapons and systems that use computers or networks. This working definition of cyberspace effectors is consistent with Department of Defense Information Operations (IO) Security Classification Guide that excludes from consideration as IO weapons those conventional weapons that produce IO effects.

Perhaps I’m irritated with the term “cyberspace” because I’m one of those “many” who conflate the term with the internet. Another possible reason is I rarely…like: NEVER…heard an Information Technology (IT) professional use the term back in my day. I’m not talking about sysadmins, UNIX geeks, or coders…the lower level guys who make things work…I’m talking about senior IT people, decision-makers such as info systems architects and CIOs. Those guys never used the term “cyberspace.” And finally… I’m supremely irritated because I don’t have an alternative to the term. There might not BE an alternative.

(Full disclosure: marketing types used “cyberspace” extensively, which is yet another reason I dislike the term. Mainly coz the marketing types Don’t Know Jack about technology…their mission is to flog stuff… and are therefore very sneer-worthy. And sneer at them I did. Oh, yes.)

But back to my point: I’m less irritated with the term cyberspace today, and less irritated with the USAF mission statement. Thanks for that, Sam.

And finally: I recommend you scan the linked pdf document, even if you’re not a geek or a military type. There are definitions and brief discussions about things every user of these here inter-tubes should know… things like phishing, viruses, worms, denial of service attacks, and so on. Knowledge IS power, Gentle Reader.

―:☺:―

Detroit Red Wings defenseman Nicklas Lidstrom and Henrik Zetterberg skate away as the Pittsburgh Penguins left wing Jarkko Ruutu (facing) and Marian Hossa celebrate Sidney Crosb's goal during the first period.
John T. Greilick / The Detroit News

Well. It looks like we have a series that’s beginning to match all the hype that preceded the Finals. Pittsburgh won last night by a score of 3-2, and the game was close. Yeah, the Pens got lucky a couple of times last night. The luck began late in the first period with a bad outlet pass by Brad Stuart that hit Zetterberg’s skate and bounced right on to Hossa’s stick, who shot the puck only to have the blocked shot bounce right to Crosby who banged it into the net. Goal… after 137+ minutes of shut-out hockey. And then the Pens’ Adam Hall put the winner in the net off Ozzie’s ass…literally. Hall shot (if one can use that term) from behind the net, the puck hit Ozzie in the butt and bounced into the net. That, folks, was the winning goal. But hockey is like that. Sometimes you get the bounces, sometimes you don’t. Pittsburgh got ‘em last night. The Wings helped, too… the first goal came on a VERY uncharacteristic bad clearing pass and the winning goal happened because Ozzie was out of position, in part.

So. The Pens played with a lot more fire last night and, in the words of David Shoalts, the Globe and Mail’s hockey reporter:

It was a physical, punishing match — a far better spectacle than the first two games of the series when the Penguins were out of contention early.

True, that. Last night’s game was MUCH more entertaining than the first two. With the exception of the final score, of course.

So…am I worried? Not at ALL. The Wings still outshot the Pens, 34-24. Outhit ‘em, too…at 34-31…and took fewer penalties. I still think the Wings are the better team. Did I expect a sweep? No. Was I hoping for one? Sorta. Do I think the Wings will prevail? Yes. That was a stupid question. Next?

“Next” is Saturday night, actually. I think the Wings will win that game in a big way. Just a feeling I have, Gentle Reader…just a feeling.

Update, 5/30/2008: Blog-Bud Barry links to an article in National Journal about China, hacking, cyber-war, and widespread power outages in the US. The article gives favorable mentions to USAF's Cyber Command and to USSTRATCOM's efforts in this space. (You listening, Sam?) Well worth your time, if you're so inclined.

The Infernal Revenue Service and (Minor?) Whining

At some point in the past I think I mentioned I still keep my RV club’s mail service active, along with the fact that 90% of my mail goes to Texas first and then is forwarded on to me by the service, to wherever I might be. And for the past five-plus years “wherever I might be” has been Beautiful La Hacienda Trailer Park. The mail service was a necessity during my “on the road” days, given I rarely spent more than a month in any given location. These days it’s just a vestigial hold-over and the biggest reason I keep it is to maintain my Texas residency. Which is important to me for a number of reasons, the biggest of which is tax considerations. But I don’t wanna talk about my mail service; this is just preamble. Digression, in other words.

I got a Love Letter from the IRS in my mail bundle last week, letting me know I’m gonna get “stimulated” to the tune of 900 Yankee Dollars. That would be $600 for me and an additional $300... only because this happened to be my year to claim the Bobby (SN3) Exemption. That didn’t seem quite fair to me, so I fired off a note to The Second Mrs. Pennington explaining my views and further asking if she would accept my check for $300, which I would write as soon as the IRS sent me MY check. TSMP graciously accepted my offer.

Further review of the IRS’ Love Letter revealed I wouldn’t have to “do” anything…as the IRS intended to deposit this money in my bank account via direct-deposit, just as they did with this year’s refund. So, quick like a bunny after re-reading the form letter I called my credit union’s interactive voice response system and… imagine my surprise! The frickin’ money has been in my account since the ninth of May. I'm SO clue-free at times.

The gub’mint is oh-so-quick about collecting what they think you owe ‘em every year, but this is the first time I can remember them being equally quick about giving me my money back. Good on ‘em, in other words.

I still think the whole “stimulus” thing sucks. Big Gub’mint meddling in the market economy and all that… aside from the fact it's the frickin’ Chinese and Korean economies that will be “stimulated,” not ours… unless you spend the money on beer and hookers. A great portion of my “stimulus” will go for the former. I don’t feel up to a road-trip for the latter. Which is probably just as well. (I hope you realize I’m joking, Gentle Reader. Sorta.)

(Image from fusilly.com)

―:☺:―

Miscellaneous Moans, Groans, Bitches, and Complaints Dept: Forgive me, but I’m gonna whine for a minute or three.

First: The weather sucks. It’s hot. It’s humid…which is oh-so-rare for The High Plains of New Mexico. The wind is up and therefore so is my awning…which leaves El Casa Móvil De Pennington bearing the brunt of full sun on its flank. Which, in turn, makes my AC run continuously. And makes me warmer than I wanna BE.

Second: I’ve had neither beer nor cigar for nine consecutive days, which may be some sort of record for me in my retirement. This, too, sucks.

Last: I still hurt but I’ve managed to avoid the industrial-strength painkillers for the first time since my procedure. Dunno how long that’s gonna last, though. The post-op pain is much worse than I thought it was gonna be, by an order of magnitude. Constant pain is psychologically debilitating, or at least it is for me. I don’t “do” sick and/or pain very well. I’d be a lousy hockey player.

There. I’m done. Dunno about you, Gentle Reader, but I feel a little bit better.

And the Wings play tonite, too. I might try a beer along with the game. Maybe. Maybe not.

(Image from art.com)

She Said

Here’s yet another one of those “apropos of nothing” moments… Collective Soul singing “She Said.”

This is the “official video,” which pales in comparison to the album track (which I cannot find. For the life of me.). Still and even, it’s good enough. I love the lyrics to this tune. And just in case you missed ‘em, here they are:

She said that time is unfair
To a woman her age
Now that wisdom has come
Everything else fades

She said she realizes
Shes seen her better days

She said she cant look back
To her days of youth
What she thought were lies
She later found was truth

She said her daddy had dreams
But he drank them away
And her mothers to blame
For the way she is today

lifes river shall rise, she said
that only the strong shall survive, she said
but Im feeling quite weak, she said
will you comfort and forgive me, she said

She says shes still searching
For salvations light
Yeah, she wishes all day
And then, she prays all night

She said she wont speak of love
cause love, shes never known
And its moments like these
She hates to be alone

lifes river shall rise, she said
that only the strong shall survive, she said
but Im feeling quite weak, she said
will you comfort and forgive me, she said

lifes river shall rise, she said
that only the strong shall survive, she said
but Im feeling quite weak, she said
will you comfort and forgive me, she said

lifes river shall rise, she said
that only the strong shall survive, she said
but Im feeling quite weak, she said
will you comfort and forgive me, she said

Forgive me
She said
Forgive me
She said

Good, innit?

Update, 5/28/2008: Thanks to ASW...this is the version I was looking for yesterday:

Much better...even if ya gotta chase the link to get the whole song!

Detroit 3, Pittsburgh 0

Detroit Red Wings center Valtteri Filppula beats Pittsburgh Penguins goalie Marc-Andre Fleury on a highlight reel goal in the third period to make it 3-0.

(John T. Greilick / The Detroit News)

Valtteri Filppula flies through the air and slips the puck past Marc-Andre Fleury in the third period.
(Dale G. Young / The Detroit News)

The Penguins are in trouble. BIG trouble. Of the 31 teams that have won the opening two games of the Stanley Cup final on home ice 30 went on to win the Cup. The 1945 Maple Leafs were the only team of those 31 to come back from an 0-2 deficit (0-3, actually) and win four straight to take the cup. That’s bad news. But there is good news, of a sort: Toronto beat Detroit in the Final that year. It ain’t likely to happen again, though. From the AP, via ESPN:

DETROIT (AP) -- If the Red Wings keep this up, the next time they perform back in Hockeytown could be along a parade route.

Producing timely offense and perfectionist defense, Detroit is not only beating the Pittsburgh Penguins, they are shutting them out.

With first-period goals from Brad Stuart and Tomas Holmstrom and another lockdown effort, the Red Wings topped the Penguins 3-0 to take a 2-0 lead in the Stanley Cup finals on Monday night.

If they can match this twice in Pittsburgh, the Red Wings will return to Detroit with the Cup in tow.

Puck-possessing Detroit held onto it all night and registered 34 shots. After a 19-save effort in a 4-0 series-opening win Saturday, Chris Osgood stopped 22 in a rocking-chair game and earned his third blanking of the playoffs -- 13th of his career.

From Canada’s National Post:

DETROIT -- The Pittsburgh Penguins thought they knew what it took to play with the big boys. Then again, the National Hockey League thought it had a dream Stanley Cup Final this spring with Pittsburgh meeting the mighty Detroit Red Wings.

After two games, both are heading back to the drawing board as the Red Wings dominated Pittsburgh again, winning Game 2 by a 3-0 score to secure a 2-0 series stranglehold with their second straight shutout.

The Penguins were blanked 4-0 in Game 1 and had just 19 shots on goal. On Monday night, they had slightly more offence - 22 shots - but still, 120 minutes have passed and the Penguins have not dented Detroit goalie Chris Osgood. Pittsburgh goalie Marc-André Fleury has been good, but might have to start scoring if his Penguins hope to come back here for Game 5 in a weeks' time.

And from The Windsor (Ontario) Star:

DETROIT -- As they waddle their way back to Pittsburgh down 2-0 in the Stanley Cup Final and in desperate need of a starting point if they intend to claw their way back into the series, here's a goal for the Pittsburgh Penguins for starters.

How about getting one?

A goal, that is.

Through two games, Sidney Crosby and company have yet to dent the twine and have been limited to a combined total of 41 shots. Steadily and surely, the Penguins are learning the hard, stifling lesson that the Wings have dished out to each of their playoff opponents this spring.

Almost nothing gets by them.

A 3-0 victory Monday at Joe Louis Arena sent this best-of-seven series headed to Pittsburgh's Mellon Arena Wednesday for Game 3 with a look of decisiveness about it. (ed: Read the whole thing…it’s GOOD.)

“A look of decisiveness about it.” That pretty well sums it up. The Versus studio analysis team of Bill Patrick, Keith Jones, and Brian Engblom… along with guest Hall of Famer Mark Messier… spent the first two intermissions of last night’s game trying to “fix” Pittsburgh, offering up obvious and somewhat inane suggestions as to how Pittsburgh could solve Detroit (“more ice time for Crosby!”), and most specifically Detroit’s overwhelming defense. Pens coach Therrien must not have been listening, because the third period was more of the same: total Detroit domination. Messier, when asked by Patrick “What can Pittsburgh DO?” after the game was over, answered “Not much. Detroit is a machine right now. They’re playing perfect hockey.” Messier is right. It seems like all Pittsburgh can do at this point is make excuses, and that’s just ugly. As are the cheap shots.

Detroit's Johan Franzen pounds Pittsburgh's Evgeni Malkin in third period fight that put three Penguins in the penalty box as the Red Wings beat the Penguins, 3-0, in the second game of the Stanley Cup Finals at Joe Louis Arena on Monday May 26, 2008. With the win, the Wings grabbed a 2-0 series lead.
Dale G. Young / The Detroit News

Still and even… it’s only two games of a seven-game series, and…as everyone knows…Shit Happens in sports sometimes. The Wings won the first two games at home in the first round, then dropped the next two to Nashville on their ice. There is a difference in that series and this one, though… the Predators managed to score three goals at Joe Louis Arena during the first two games of that round…and that’s three more goals than Pittsburgh has scored.

And then we have Wings coach Mike Babcock’s 2003 Anaheim Ducks, who dropped the first two games to New Jersey before bouncing back and losing that year’s Final in seven games. So, yeah…Shit Happens. It’s pretty danged hard to believe it can happen to this Detroit Red Wings team, though…and that goes double for Pittsburgh. The Penguins haven’t shown any of the qualities necessary to pull off a turn-around of this magnitude. This series isn’t close at all… and it’s never been close.

So much for The Dream Match-Up Stanley Cup Final, eh?

Memorial Day 2008

“The remains of the Unknown Soldier is committed to the ground during the burial services at Arlington National Cemetery, Arlington, VA November 11 1921.
(WW1 Signal Corps Collection).”Photo from Army.mil.

"The National Moment of Remembrance, established by Congress, asks Americans wherever they are at 3 p.m., local time, on Memorial Day to pause in an act of national unity (duration: one minute).The time 3 p.m. was chosen because it is the time when most Americans are enjoying their freedoms on the national holiday. The Moment does not replace traditional Memorial Day events; rather it is an act of national unity in which all Americans, alone or with family and friends, honor those who died for our freedom. It will help to reclaim Memorial Day as the sacred and noble holiday it was meant to be. In this shared remembrance, we connect as Americans."

—The White House Commission on Remembrance

Detroit 4, Pittsburgh 0

Pre-game ceremonies during game one of the Stanley Cup Finals at Joe Louis Arena on Saturday, May 24, 2008. Detroit Red Wings Vs. Pittsburg Penguins.
(BRIAN KAUFMAN/DFP)

It began with a sinister omen for the Penguins…and Stephen King couldn’t have scripted it better if he had tried:

DETROIT -- If you had told me yesterday that Penguins goaltender Marc-Andre Fleury would fall flat on his face last night, I wouldn't have believed you.

But it happened.

Twice, actually.

So eager was Fleury to get on the Joe Louis Arena ice for the start of Game 1 of the Stanley Cup final against the Detroit Red Wings that he missed the last step leading out of the runway from the dressing room and went down in a heap for all in the big, hooting crowd to see. At that point, it was really easy to think bad omen for your favorite hockey club, but those in the Penguins' dressing room -- some of the most superstitious people in the world -- denied that vehemently after the game, a 4-0 loss. They were just glad Fleury didn't break his arm.

As it was, only the man's pride was bruised.

Fleury would ache much more after what happened in the next 2¹/₂ hours.

I literally did not believe my eyes when I saw Fleury fall to the ice…and he fell, he didn’t stumble. The resulting back-up of storming Penguins behind Fleury was reminiscent of the Keystone Cops. But Fleury got to his feet and the Pens continued to take the ice at The Joe normally. I thought “Wow! This is amazing. Karma!” And I hadn’t seen nuthin’ yet…

The pre-game ceremonies gave me goose-bumps. Literally. Here’s the biggest reason:

The NHL brought out Mario Lemieux and Detroit great Steve Yzerman to drop the ceremonial first pucks before Game 1 last night at Joe Louis Arena.
(Pittsburgh Post-Gazette photo)

Both men are living legends in their respective cities and both men led their teams to Stanley Cups in the modern era. And there they were: side by side at The Joe, dropping the ceremonial first pucks. That, Gentle Reader, was a sight to see. And then… the game.

Now that Game One is over we know a few things about this Stanley Cup Final:

• Marc-Andre Fleury can be beat. Often. If you consider four goals in a single game “often.” I do.
• Crosby, Hossa and Malkin can be contained. Shut down, even. Hossa is the only guy out of Pittsburgh’s Big Three who managed more than three shots on goal during the entire game.
• The Wings are ON their game… for the moment. There’s no better team in the NHL when the Wings are “on.” None. Period. Full-stop. Every aspect of their play is simply stunning right now… be it offense, defense, passing, checking, hitting, or goal-tending. ALL of it.

And that’s just for starters. Here’s what Bob Wojnowski, one of Deetroit’s hockey pundits, has to say about last evening’s doin’s:

DETROIT -- This is what the Red Wings can do better than anyone. They can make opposing stars flat-out disappear. Poof. Gone. And they can conjure up their own stars out of, well, practically nowhere.

Mikael Samuelsson wasn't nowhere when the Stanley Cup Finals began Saturday night, but he sure wasn't anywhere prominent. Then all he did in Game 1 was go out and find the puck and keep flipping it past the goalie.

If the Wings are going to be this opportunistic and this smothering, and if Chris Osgood is going to be this darn good, the young Penguins could be in for a major schooling. Samuelsson scored the first two goals and the Wings were their standard puck-possessing selves, while harassing Sidney Crosby and Evgeni Malkin all over the ice in a 4-0 victory at Joe Louis Arena.

[…]

The first game of the NHL's showcase event was a one-sided show, especially after the Wings' shaky first period, especially when they started skating and bumping Crosby, especially when Osgood helped them survive the first-period flurry, when they were whistled for four straight penalties.

"We're a different team than what they played before," Osgood said. "We possessed the puck and we like to do it the majority of the time, if we can. I mean, that's the best defense, when we have the puck. I think we do it better than any other team in the league and that's what makes our defense so good."

Osgood was being modest, of course. He's an astounding 11-2 in these playoffs, and in this one, he made a couple of great saves on Marian Hossa early and a huge one on Crosby later. Crosby and Malkin couldn't generate much, and every time Crosby looked up, he was getting banged by Zetterberg or defenseman Niklas Kronwall.

And yes, that was the "other" superstar out there, Pavel Datsyuk, hitting any Penguin that moved. (Datsyuk led the team with six hits).

The Penguins will re-group. As a matter of fact, Pens coach Michel Therrien began juggling his lines during the second period last night in what appeared to be a desperate shot at making something…anything… happen. It was painfully obvious there wasn’t anything going on with the Pens usual lines.

With his team failing at the puck-possession game, Penguins coach Michel Therrien went away from the line combinations he had been using since the start of the playoffs and tried many different variations, but none of them worked.

At one point he had Crosby with Evgeni Malkin and Ryan Malone. Later in the period he had Crosby at center with Malkin on the left wing and Hossa on the right. Malone played on the left wing alongside Jordan Staal and Petr Sykora.

In the third period Therrien rolled only three lines and they were completely different than how he started the game.

So. We’ll see what we’ll see, eh? There’s still “a lot of hockey to be played” in this series. The Wings have to be pleased. Their fans are pleased. Everyone outside of Pittsburgh is pleased.

Coach Therrien ain’t pleased:

“Definitely that was the worst performance of the playoffs,” Therrien said. “We didn’t compete like we were supposed to compete, and it’s a good lesson.”

School ain’t out yet, Coach.

Chris Osgood raises his stick to the crowd after he was named one of the stars of the game.
David Guralnick / The Detroit News

Weirdness

I get the strangest e-mail promotions from Amazon every once in a while. Case in point… and this is just wrong:

Your eyes don’t deceive you… it’s a

Fender Squier Hello Kitty Strat, Pink

Other products by Fender
2 Reviews
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See all 2 customer reviews...
(2 customer reviews)| More about this product

List Price: $332.99
Price: $199.99 & this item ships for FREE with Super Saver Shipping.

· Sweet and demure Hello Kitty shows her rock-chick side with this pink electric guitar (also available in black)
· Purr-fect for budding rock stars, the all-wood guitar is based on the classic Fender design and features the smiling feline on pickguard

Well…maybe it’s not wrong if you have a Bonnie Raitt or Joan Jett wannabee hanging around your house. That would be the only reason, though. I still can't imagine Joan Jett playing one.

Update: I left out a key piece of information when I first put this post up… the e-mail narrative. Here t’is:

Dear Amazon.com Customer,

We've noticed that customers who have purchased or rated Woodstock Percussion American Slide Whistle or other products in the Toys > Music category have also purchased Fender Squier Hello Kitty Strat, Pink. For this reason, you might like to know that Fender Squier Hello Kitty Strat, Pink is now available. You can order yours for just $199.99 ($133.00 off the list price) by following the link below.

Yep. I bought SN3 a slide whistle. I’m sure The Second Mrs. Pennington thanks me over and over again for that. But, Hey! It was the least I could do…

MeMe

I was tagged by Lin to do this here meme the day I went for my slicing/dicing. Now that I'm up to speed (sorta), I'm checking the box.

In Lin's words: “Soo ... the idea is to answer these questions with only a photo or other graphic, NO words allowed. Here goes then (but I reserve the right to complete and childish asininity)”

Me, too.

1. What is your current relationship status?

2. What is your current mood?

3. What is your favorite band/singer?

and

4. What is your favorite movie?

5. What kind of pets do you have?

6. Where do you live?

7. Where do you work?

8. Who do you look like?

9. What do you drive?

10. What did you do on Saturday?

11. What did you do on Sunday?

12. What is your favorite network TV Show?

13. Describe Yourself.

14. What is your favorite candy?

I'm supposed to tag some folks, coz that's the way these things work. Consider yourself tagged, if ya wanna be. There's a lot of image googling involved. But Hey! That's fun, innit?

Oh, Hell... let's just do it. Ashley might play. Jim might need some respite from Bassetball-blogging. Lou is a good sport, and so are Jenny and Becky. Just off the top of my head, ya know. And all these folks post lotsa pics, too.

Just a Little Bit o' Hockey...

From The Hockey News… tongue-in-cheek “keys” to winning the Stanley Cup. First, how to beat the Wings:

1. The Red Wings have perhaps the most loyal following in all of hockey (at least in the top 30). Their fans share common traits in that they all (a) love the team (b) are immune to octopus bites (c) work for General Motors. (ed: Items (a) and (c) were certainly true of me when I became a fan. Never been attacked by an octopus, though.)

The support network runs from the fans directly to the team. Cut one off from the other and they flounder like a flounder. How do you go about breaking this lifeline? Sneak into the media room, commandeer the microphone and announce General Motors is toying with the idea of scrapping the vaunted paid washroom breaks. Stampede ensues. Pens up 2-0.

2. One look at the Detroit lineup and you’ll realize the United Nations seems sectarian by comparison. Aside from a Japanese player and a Samoan, the Red Wings have every nation on earth represented on their roster. That translates into a crowded bench filled with on-call translators (you thought they had a backup, backup goalie coach?). If something were to happen, say, to compromise the miles and miles of intricate wiring that allows the team to communicate, the whole operation would ground to a halt – like General Motors.

3. We all love the guy and admire him for playing at the ripe old age of 74, but Chris Chelios has seen better days. Still, he acts like it’s his rookie year (1869) demanding more ice time and a steady stream of bran. Coach Babcock has reduced the Chelios Implosion Factor by giving Chris sporadic duty as the 12th defenseman and has implicitly stated it’s his job to shadow Rob Scuderi every time he’s on the ice. Thus, Mr. Scuderi needs to see a lot more ice time.

And how to beat the Pens:

1. Anyone’s who watched Sidney Crosby play knows how dominant a player he is. The man’s a machine. I mean, literally, the man’s a machine. Buried in the fine print of his astronomical endorsement deal with RBK is the little matter of that microchip being implanted at the base of his brain stem. It controls things such as the choice between deking and shooting and when to sign autographs. Keep in mind this microprocessor is strictly first generation, meaning the little sucker is really prone to malfunctioning caused by too much moisture (the reason behind his subsequent - and secretive - Gatorade deal). If he were to get seriously wet (hint hint), his eyes will start to roll back in his head and he’ll begin speaking in pure gibberish. On the plus side, Malkin will be able to understand him; on the minus, he’ll start playing like Jody Shelley.

2. The Penguins have an average age of 14. They have raging hormones, but are also brutally self-conscious. Intimidation is simply a matter of pointing out their pathetic attempts at playoff beards (“I’ve seen more hair on a parrot”). That one was easy.

3. The Penguins are never far away from their checkered and humble past. The fact they still play in a building constructed with a thatched roof and heated by coal speaks volumes. Even though they’re having a decent run, bankruptcy breathes down their necks like creepy bachelor uncles. You want to send a shiver down the collective spines of Crosby, Malkin and the rest of the seven-figure kids? I hear your check bounced. 2-0 Red Wings.

Regarding Item Two on the Pens list: That’s a pic of Crosby just above (click for larger, of course)… accepting the Prince of Wales Trophy last week. “Pathetic” is a good word for his beard. OK, I’ll cut him some slack: he’s only 20… not 14, as noted above. The mind boggles, does it not? A 20-year-old, supremely talented, multi-million dollar captain of an A-League sports team? Who gives a damn if he can’t grow a beard?

(h/t: Paul at Kukla’s Korner)

―:☺:―

What computers know…

Get ready for a victory parade, Hockeytown!

According to WhatIf Sports, the Red Wings will dispatch the Penguins in five games to claim their first Stanley Cup title since 2002 and fourth in the last 11 seasons.

That is what was determined in 10,000 Stanley Cup Final computer simulations conducted by WhatIf Sports, a fantasy sports Web site designed to simulate games between past and present sports teams using real historical statistics.

After 10,000 simulations were run, the veteran Wings defeated the up-and-coming Penguins 68 percent of the time, with the most common occurrence a five-game series in which Pittsburgh will earn its only victory in Game 3 on home ice.

The simulations were run using the actual 2007-08 regular season stats compiled by Detroit and Pittsburgh.

Not everyone agrees.

Well, I’m ready to believe, as you might expect. But I also know a lil bit about computers, too. So: taken with a grain of salt…a very large grain, at that. I think the series will go at least six games... if not seven... and the Wings will prevail, of course. It’s that ol’ “old age and treachery beats youth and exuberance, every time” thing, ya know. That and the Wings defense, which is the key reason Chris Osgood has faced far fewer shots in these playoffs than Marc-Andre Fleury, in spite of playing two more games than the Pens' goalie. Ozzie and Fleury are numbers one and two in the all-important “goals against average” stat through the first three rounds… and defense wins cups. T’was ever so.

Checkin' In... and Not Much Else

I’m alive and pretty well, all things considered. There are a couple of reasons for that, first and foremost being the prescription-strength Motrin. Secondly… and much more importantly... I’m being fed extremely well thanks to Jenny, who stopped by very early this afternoon and dropped off 96 ounces of piping hot chicken soup and a large loaf of banana bread. Both are delicious, and that’s today’s understatement. The banana bread has been a bit of a challenge, what with trying to keep crumbs and such out of my stitches. But challenges are placed in front of you to be overcome…so I did.

I sure as Hell haven’t felt like cooking today and you’ve been a life-saver, Jenny. Thank you oh-so-much!

―:☺:―

We’ve pretty much “gone dark” where communication with the outside world is concerned, outside of checking e-mail a couple of times today and quickly scanning the hockey news. I’m amazed at my capacity for sleep these past 36 hours or so. Case in point: item Number 122 on that ol’ list of “150 things” in my side-bar states:

122. Slept for more than 30 hours over the course of 48 hours (bold meaning I have the tee shirt)

I’m closing in on that and have been horizontal a whole helluva lot more than I’ve been vertical in the last 36 hours, anyway. One interesting (to me) side effect to the surgery is my face is pretty swollen on both sides, but on me that’s an improvement. I’ve lost so much weight in the last year that my face has become very gaunt looking, ergo: the swelling is a substantial improvement… in that I look pretty “normal” now. No pics, though, Gentle Reader. I don’t wanna scare the horses, as noted elsewhere on the blog.

I’ve also noticed I have somewhere between 12 and 16 stitches in my mouth… and that would be an educated-guess, based on feeling around with my tongue. OK, so here I am, on prescription-strength painkillers and sleeping all day and half the night about 36 hours removed from the event. Just to keep things in perspective: Kris Draper took a puck to the mouth during Monday night’s game in Dallas (which, coincidentally, caromed into the net for the Wings’ first goal but cost Draper six stitches and three dislodged teeth), went into the locker room, got stitched up, and was back out on the ice in the same period. He might have missed five or six shifts, at most.

Have I ever told you hockey players are tough, Gentle Reader? As for me? Not so much.

―:☺:―

Speaking of hockey… here’s a good article that touches on my hockey roots by Paul Kukla (proprietor of the ‘net’s BEST hockey blog), writing at NHL.com:

Let’s address the Pittsburgh Penguins and I will say it here first, you won’t be hearing any negative chants addressed at players like Sidney Crosby or Evgeni Malkin. Detroit fans cheer for their team and are above degrading the opposition. Detroit fans know their hockey and respect the game too much to do that. Besides, Sidney Crosby reminds us of a young Steve Yzerman. Same pattern of play, same attitude towards winning. We are just hoping Crosby goes through the growing pains that Stevie did, thus delaying raising the Cup over his head for at least another year.

[…]

Now I am not going to break down the Wings roster for you. I am taking a different approach today and will officially welcome you to the Metro Detroit area. I ask you to forget all the negative things you have read and heard about Motown. Sure there are areas you want to avoid, just like every large city in the world. Instead I will point out how the folks in Southeast Michigan will welcome you with open arms. We are a hard working bunch, and although this area is suffering through a down-turn in the automotive industry, we still are trying to keep our heads above water. Approach us, talk to us, we don’t bite and want to talk hockey with you and get your feelings on our game.

Michiganders love hockey, we love that is all that is good about the sport. It is in our blood and we have been playing in the NHL since the mid-1920’s. Our father’s father passed the game on to us. Our mother’s know the game too. We appreciate the special talents each and every NHL player has. We are amazed and hypnotized by the action on the ice and we feel part of the Detroit Red Wings family. Plain and simple, we are hockey fans.

Yep, Gentle Reader…this is how I became a hockey fan. Spending ten years in Deetroit will do that to ya…like it or not. But you most likely would love the game once you fell into the right sort of crowd. I’m not that much of a weird-o, ya know.

Surgery AAR + Bonus Weirdness

Some folks would be embarrassed by this…

I scored a Far Out
95% on theQuiz by SheGoddess: Quick Weight Loss

But not me. Hey! Those were my salad days, dontcha know? Didn’t we just Disco-Down and all, even though it was done badly, for the most part? And I’m especially proud of the fact I remembered most of this krep even though I haven’t heard (nearly all) it since it was in its Top-40 heyday. I mean, c’mon: “The Bay City Rollers?”

―:☺:―

In health news… I survived the morning quite well, thank you. Dr. Thompson arrived around 0745 hours this morning and we made the brief drive to his office whereupon we immediately got down to business with little or no time wasted. The first order of business was making me comfy in the Big Chair, along with a couple of blankets to ward off the hyper-active air conditioning’s chill. (Brief digression: I’m glad I’m typing this in MS-Word, coz every third word is a typo. No shit. I should take a screen-shot for your amusement.) The second order of business was administering Massive Quantities of Good (no: Great!) Drugs, in multiple oral installments of some sort of magik powder, left to dissolve under my tongue… so many installments that I lost count, actually. Which is a semi-good thing, because the third order of business was trying to extract blood from my notoriously rolling veins. The Good Doctor and staff gave up after six attempts, three in each arm. I should take pics of the bruises in my arms for all y’all, but I’ll spare you.

So. We’re up to about 0845 hrs. in this narrative and I don’t remember very danged much from that time on until 1400 hrs, aside from hazy recollections of various commands, such as “turn towards me,” and “open wider.” I find that very, very strange. “Semi-conscious” would be an exaggeration, because I wasn’t. I was, for all intents and purposes, waaay out there in La-La Land. Just in case you’re wondering: no dreams, mild, wild, or otherwise. Just what would pass for a deep sleep. And that’s a good thing, in and of itself, as I slept oh-so-fitfully last night. The five milligrams of diazepam I was given to take before bed last evening didn’t work worth a damn. I suspect the dosage was too low, ten milligrams might have done the trick. So, to cut back to the chase, I was more than ready to go back to sleep while Dr. Thompson sliced and diced to his heart’s content…and my better oral health.

I was awakened oh-so-gently just a little after 1400 hrs with a carton of apple juice and a protein shake, both of which I scarffed downed like someone who hadn’t eaten or drank a thing for a week. Dr. Thompson and staff put me in a wheelchair after I finished off the light snack, wheeled me out the Doctors car, and he drove me home. We arrived around 1500 hrs., whereupon I went immediately to bed and slept the sleep of the just for four hours straight. I might still be asleep yet, had not SN1 made the de rigueur “are you OK” call just after 1900. I mumbled something to the effect of “yeah, I’m fine” and don’t recall saying much of anything else, other than “It’s OK!” when SN1 launched into profuse apologies for awakening me. Which: was actually a good thing. Coz it made me realize I was hungry… Capital “H” hungry.

I rolled my tired ass out of bed and made a double bowl of ramen with two poached eggs and crumbled cheese in the mix as accompaniments (and one could only wish MY ramen looked as good as that in the illustration!). Not chicken soup, to be sure, but close enough for gub’mint work. It went down easy and tasted wonderful.

That was well over an hour and a half ago. SN2 has called in the meantime and we had a brief chat. The rest of time has been spent attempting to pound out this worthless batshit of a post, two-thirds of said time spent backspacing or otherwise correcting the dreaded squiggly-red underlined words. And you know how spell-check is, Gentle Reader. Words that are spelled correctly yet used inappropriately will make the cut. So: caveat emptor. But remember: I’m writing while on drugs. Great Drugs, with a most amazing sort of longevity, too.

Red Wings 4, Dallas 1

Detroit Red Wings goalie Chris Osgood and Dallas Stars goalie Marty Turco shakes hands after the Wings 4-1 win in Game 6 of the Western Conference Finals.
(JULIAN H. GONZALEZ/DFP)

Detroit Red Wings Captain Nicklas Lidstrom accepts the Western Conference Trophy from Deputy NHL commissioner Bill Daly.
(JULIAN H. GONZALEZ/DFP)

Detroit wins and suddenly… it’s over in the West and the Wings reign supreme. So. Bring on those flightless birds from Pittsburgh. While they may not be able to fly, they can certainly score…and keep the opposition from scoring, too. Here’s Michael Rosenberg, writing in The Freep…

DALLAS — It is going to get harder now. And more fun. Way, way more fun.

The Red Wings are going to face the Penguins in the Stanley Cup Finals, which is all sorts of perfect. The television ratings will be comically low; that’s just reality for hockey right now. But forget TV ratings for a minute. Anybody who likes this game has to love this matchup.

When the Wings play the way they did Monday night, it is hard to imagine anybody beating them. The first period was a true clinic: the Wings got three net-front goals and completely dominated play. When Henrik Zetterberg scored a shorthanded goal in the second period, the Wings had four goals and Dallas had seven shots.

Unfortunately for the Wings, and happily for the NHL, the Pittsburgh Penguins have been even more dominant. The Penguins swept Ottawa in the first round. They took a 3-0 series lead on the Rangers in the second round before winning in five games. Then they took a 3-0 series lead on Philadelphia before winning in five games.

Combined, these teams have trailed in a series for precisely zero seconds. And that isn’t even the sexiest part of the matchup.

These Stanley Cup Finals will feature three of the league’s top six regular-season scorers — and a fourth player, Sidney Crosby, who is merely the most important player in the whole league. Crosby would have been an MVP candidate if not for a high ankle sprain in January; he finished with 72 points in just 53 games.

Yep…this is gonna be BIG Fun! Game One is Saturday evening in Deetroit. I should be feeling well enough by that point in time to crack a couple of brewskis while watching the Big Show.

Dang, but it’s GOOD when your team is on a roll. And we’re just four wins away from the Ultimate Trophy in sports. Wow…what a ride!

Plane Pr0n...

...courtesy of (who else?) Lex:


F-22 Raptor All Out Demo / Pilot Major "Max" Moga Describes Eac - video powered by Metacafe
Wow. Pretty cool, eh? Cooler than cool, actually. Lethal is the word that comes to MY mind.

Trendy, Indulgent, and Cruel

Holee Crap! I’m frickin’ trendy! From yesterday’s NY Times (Chasing Utopia, Family Imagines No Possessions):

AUSTIN, Tex. — Like many other young couples, Aimee and Jeff Harris spent the first years of their marriage eagerly accumulating stuff: cars, furniture, clothes, appliances and, after a son and a daughter came along, toys, toys, toys.

Now they are trying to get rid of it all, down to their fancy wedding bands. Chasing a utopian vision of a self-sustaining life on the land as partisans of a movement some call voluntary simplicity, they are donating virtually all their possessions to charity and hitting the road at the end of May.

[…]

They are not alone.

Matt and Sara Janssen, who traded down from their house in Iowa to a studio apartment in Montana and finally an R.V. powered by vegetable oil, now crisscross the country with their 4-year-old daughter, highway nomads living on $1,500 a month.

Not that simplicity need be that spartan. Cindy Wallach and her husband, Doug Vibbert, of Annapolis, Md., moved out of their apartment with an “everything must go” party and, along with their 3-year-old son, now sail and make their home on a 44-by-24-foot catamaran.

“We never wanted four walls and beige carpet,” Ms. Wallach said.

Though it may not be the stuff of the typical American dream, the voluntary simplicity movement, which traces its inception to 1980s Seattle, is drawing a great deal of renewed interest, some experts say.

Well, well. My story is sorta like the Janssen’s… I went from house to apartment to RV in about a year, giving up about 93% of my possessions in the process… and that was painful. Don’t let anyone tell you it isn’t, Gentle Reader. I don’t go on about it all that much (do I?) with the possible exception of bemoaning the loss of my music LP collection, which I do quite frequently. That said, I wouldn’t go back to my previous life. Because possessions are insidious: they DO tie you down. Dealing with a lot of “stuff” takes a lot of effort, time, and money, as does the acquisition of same. So I agree with this “voluntary simplicity” thing.

There is one key difference, however, between the Janssens and me. I cannot imagine, for the life of me, how a family of three can live on only $1,500 per month in these United States, especially if they live in an RV and do any traveling at all. I don’t care if the thing IS fueled with vegetable oil… RVs get lousy mileage, no matter what fuel they use. Maybe they get their vegetable oil for free, I dunno. But even if they DO get free used oil out of Micky Dee’s deep fat fryers, $1,500 per month is still a very small sum for a family of three. My income is significantly more than theirs, even after taking child support and alimony into consideration, which knocks a pretty sizable chunk right off the top. And I don’t live what I would call an extravagant life…hand-rolled cigars and microbrews aside. (Those two things are my only indulgences, by the way, if you ignore Miss Zukiko.) I don’t think I could live on that amount of money, even if my obligations weren’t considered. I wish the article had elaborated on that aspect of “voluntary simplicity.” That sounds more like voluntary poverty to me.

But. I have very mixed emotions after reading this article. It’s one thing to be trendy while flying under the radar (and unbeknownst to myself, too). It’s quite another kettle of fish to be recognized as such by the frickin’ New York Times. My Gawd.

(Image from PingMag.com)

―:☺:―

Speaking of cigars and indulgences… I receive “special offer” e-mails from cigar.com from time to time. Here’s one such offer, received this morning:

Arturo Fuente God of Fire 15th Anniversary Humidor Sampler
This sampler features a handcrafted Special Edition humidor that holds 300 cigars! Only 30 have ever been made, each including an optima hygrometer, humidifier, lift-out tray and cedar dividers. This deluxe package has 80 never commercially released God of Fire Torpedos from 2004. Want more? For $12,499.95, you will receive 400 cigars, 100 each of the following: Pyramid, Robusto, Double Robusto and Churchill.
As Seen In Robb Report Magazine!

Price: $6.499.95

Ummm… I don’t think so. There’s not even a Certificate of Authenticity included. And the teevee has repeatedly emphasized to all us Discerning Connoisseurs of Fine Stuff that we need certificates. All the best “as seen on teevee” deals have ‘em.

―:☺:―

I go in for my surgery tomorrow morning at 0800 hrs, and I’ll admit to being just a little bit apprehensive. But not about the procedure itself…I’m OK with that. Nope, what has me worried is (a) how am I gonna get enough sleep, given as how I’m normally up to all hours of the night and early morning? and (b) I have to fast before the procedure. Item (b) means NO coffee tomorrow morning. So: I have to get up at the crack o' dawn (so to speak) and I can't have coffee?

I think that’s cruel and inhuman.

The Politics of Dancing

So… I was watching the Pittsburgh – Philadelphia game until the end of the second period when it became apparent…painfully so, for Flyers fans… that it was all over except for the hand-shakes. At that point in time… given that it was such a nice day outside… I turned off the teevee, brought up Pandora Radio on the PC, and retired to the outdoors with a cee-gar and a Trippel. Which turned into three Trippels, but leave us not digress. More to the point… I had Pandora tuned to the Aretha Franklin station, which you might surmise (correctly) is pretty heavy on Motown and to a lesser extent, dance tunes.

Which got me to thinking. Specifically… about a comment The Second Mrs. Pennington tossed off at the very beginning of our relationship. Said comment was uttered without a lot of thinking behind it while we were at the Yokota AB NCO Club for a night of dancing, to wit (S’cuse our French, Gentle Reader, but it is what it is.):

“I love watching people dance…coz I think people dance like they fuck.”

Umm…well, OK. That line might have been a throw-away to her, but it stuck in my mind. And it just might have inspired me to be a little bit more soulful in my dancing from that point on. Or perhaps not…. we are what we are, and I’m most certainly not a dancer. I’ll digress just a lil bit by saying I’ve always admired those guys who have mastered the art, coz I’m of the opinion, most unequivocally, that good dancers have it ALL over those of us who aren’t when it comes to scoring points with the opposite sex... at the bar and such. And that’s never been me. I enjoy getting up and shaking a leg but I am most definitely the rhythm-impaired, quintessential White Boy when it comes to dancing. As a matter of fact, another pertinent quote about dancing comes to mind…uttered by a female in-law to SN1 while observing my (lack of) dancing skills at SN1’s commissioning party way back in 2000, or so. Said comment? Just this: “Your Dad’s a great guy. But he sure as Hell can’t dance!” And the woman was right. I can’t dance…not at all. Proof-positive below (which: The First Mrs. Pennington and I, dancing at SN1's commissioning party. She, (much) more so than I.).

Which, of course, brings me full-circle. My dancing couldn’t have impressed TSMP; your average six-year-old wouldn’t be impressed by my dancing skills. It had to be something else, and I’m sure it was. Fortunately for me, the dates TSMP and I went on before our dancing nights consisted of lots of occasions spent in conversation, interspersed with lotsa mo’sickle rides out into the country, followed up yet again with lots more conversation. That had to turn the trick… coz it sure as Hell wasn’t my dancing. One is thankful for women who can see beyond the superficial.

Oh. By the way… I do the deal a whole HELLUVA lot better than I dance. Just in case you were wondering. (Insert smiley-face thingie here.)

(The video is but one tune TSMP and I danced to back in our early days. More appropriately, the tune was popular during my high-school days, but it remains a dance tune that gets a lot of play…or at least it did, at one point in time. And I heard it on Pandora today…which prompted this whole post, to begin with… You may have wished it hadn’t Gentle Reader… but it is what it is.)

Panic in Detroit

Well, OK…the words… with the exception of the chorus… don’t quite fit. But yeah, there’s a bit of panic in Detroit after yesterday’s 2-1 loss to Dallas. Mitch Albom titles his column in today’s Freep “Yes, there's reason to worry.” Drew Sharp calls his “Opinion: Hot goalie could doom Wings.” Speaking of… Marty Turco picked a helluva time to exorcise his Joe Louis Arena demons (he’s now 1-9-2 at The Joe) from the Wings’ perspective… and that of their fans, too. Bob Wojnowski, writing in The Detroit News is similarly pessimistic, with a column titled “Tension mounts, and so do Wings' worries.” BAU: Panic in Detroit!

Wings players (left to right) Daniel Cleary, Kirk Maltby, Darren McCarty and Niklas Kronwall look frustrated behind the team bench late in the third period.
(John T. Greilick / The Detroit News)

But all that really matters about yesterday’s game is this: the Stars deserved the win. They played harder than the Wings, who came out just a little bit flat and stayed that way for the whole game. Yes, the Wings out-shot (39-21) the Stars and dominated in face offs (41-21). As for the physical play…it was even, with Dallas giving but one more hit than they took (21-20). But the Wings weren’t on their game…the passing wasn’t as crisp, plays were broken, and waaay too many shots went wide of the net… including at least four potential game-winners (in the aggregate). It could be said (and is, if you follow the Freep links) that both Dallas goals came on bad changes by Detroit…read as: errors and lack of concentration.

The Wings had their chances yesterday and blew ‘em, for the most part. Yes, Turco played a superlative game and definitely made the biggest contribution in Dallas’ win. But one cannot ignore the fact that Datsyuk, Zetterberg, Lidstrom, and Holmstrom…Detroit’s big guns… were pointless yesterday. That has to change. And it would be good to see The Mule back in the line-up, too. But…it’s the playoffs, and injuries happen. The better teams deal with it, and the best teams pull together and win.

But Hey! So, we have a series worth watching rather than a blow-out and some sort of premature coronation. The Wings still hold a 3-2 series lead. They still have two chances left to close out the Stars and advance to the Final. They are still the best team in the NHL. And lest we forget: some of us predicted “Wings in six.” And no one said this would be easy, including Mike Babcock, speaking after yesterday’s game:

“I don't think anybody when we started this series thought it was going to be easy. The Stanley Cup Playoffs aren't supposed to be easy. Neither are the Conference Finals.”

Game Six is tomorrow night…in Dallas. Don’t make a liar out of me, Boys. Or... more to the point: please don't break my heart yet again.

Beauteous

It is, quite simply, a beautiful day here at Beautiful La Hacienda Trailer Park, as indicated by this photo I snapped about ten minutes ago. The weather is danged near perfect after two days of rain and an unseasonable chill that kept my furnace cycling throughout the last two nights and half of the days. Yes, we still have a bit of a breeze…but I can live with that. And the rain was wonderful. One of the better aspects of two days worth of rain is Mother Nature’s Own Car Wash, which left El Casa Móvil De Pennington sparkling. Well… not quite sparkling, but a whole Helluva lot cleaner-looking than she was three days ago… which will delay the annual house-washing for a week or three.

And now, Gentle Reader, I’m gonna go get outside in this weather. Coz it’s just like Baby Bear’s porridge: not too hot, not too cold…just right. So I’m gonna go try out my best Goldilocks impression. I’ll be substituting beer and a cigar for the porridge, tho.

Because I can.

Lex

Today is Lex’s last day on active duty, and he’s probably at the bar as I type this post. I’ve had the pleasure…and that’s not a figure of speech… of reading him for three or four years now. Lex was the very first milblogger I ever read and remains the “best of breed” to this very day. If you don’t believe me…go read this post. And make sure you chase each and every link therein. You’ll get a thumbnail sketch of what makes the man such an enjoyable, compelling, and informative read… day in and day out. And reading that post might inspire you to read more, if’n you’re not in the habit already.

Fair winds and following seas, Cap’n.

Yet Another "Spare Me" Moment

Seeing what she wants to see, rather than what’s really there:

There are many reasons Clinton is losing the nomination contest, some having to do with her strategic mistakes, others with the groundswell for "change." But for all Clinton's political blemishes, the darker stain that has been exposed is the hatred of women that is accepted as a part of our culture.

That’s the last paragraph in an op-ed by Marie Cocco in today’s WaPo. There are 13 preceding paragraphs containing many examples of what the author claims is misogyny in our culture…all having to do with Her Hillaryness, of course. Okaaay…

Here’s a newsflash for ya, Ms. Cocco: A large segment of America hates actively dislikes Hillary Clinton. Those same people still love their mothers, their wives, their sisters, and women in general… and YrHmblScrb is part of that group. Just because we dislike a political candidate who happens to be female in no way means we’re all closet misogynists… this being especially true where female Hillary-bashers are concerned. And there are more than a few of those, in case you haven’t noticed.

I’ll submit there are boors and people with bad taste liberally sprinkled throughout these United States, and bad taste knows no geographical or demographical boundaries. Still and even, a handful of bad jokes, stupid tee shirts, and nutcrackers in the form of Her Hillaryness are not evidence of endemic misogyny in our culture, let alone a general acceptance of same. They are simply political statements that happen to cross your personal threshold of what’s acceptable and what’s not. Your op-ed is SO far off the mark it’s not funny. I suggest you take a deep, deep breath and relax.

Today’s rhetorical question: Why do the media give nut-jobs like this woman the time of day, anyway?

(Image from CoxandForkum.com)

Found...

... in the comments section on one of the Deetroit Freep hockey blogs. The caption is "Tide Works."

Game time in about ten minutes. Can you say "sweep?" I can.

Update 5/14/2008 2040 hrs: No sweep. Dallas won, 3-1. Which: is Detroit's series lead.

Do Yourself a Flavor...

... and watch this vid on "the the importance of proofreading:"



Dang. This guy has been reading my drafts... or some of the blogs I stumble upon. Or both.
(h/t: Morgan)

Ah. SO Nice...

I'm only half-awake and working on my second cup. I'm sleeping in shifts yet again and that lil quirk was compounded by the fact it's been raining all morning (unusual, to say the least). And this isn't your typical High Plains gully washer... where it rains furiously for ten minutes and then quits altogether... it's been a steady, light-to-moderate rain. Perfect for sleeping, in other words. The pitty-pat of light rain on my roof is the best tranquilizer/sleep aid I know! But... I'm up and working on the coffee now, after catching another 20 winks or so while the coffee pot worked it's magic.

We really need the rain, and we’re getting a LOT of it…which is a great good thing.

Back in a bit…

Apropos of Nothing…

Here's George Thorogood, who I happened to hear on Pandora Radio just now… performing the studio version of this song.

The first time I saw George was in a dance hall in London some time between 1980 and 1983… no seats, just a big ol’ empty floor that held maybe 1,000 people. The venue was packed that night, and The Second Mrs. Pennington and I boogied our asses off, almost literally. Both TSMP and I were pretty much in our prime, she being in her mid-20s and me just slightly older (heh). But Thorogood wore us out and that’s no exaggeration. He played for at least two hours and it’s simply pure amazement how that guy sustained the manic energy-level in his show. TSMP and I had to go the bar mid-way through the first set, buy a couple of pints, and find a wall to sit down against just to get our breath back. And then it was back to the boogie…

Not many people do it better than George. Well, back in the day, anyway. We all get older.

Update 5/14/2008 1155 hrs: See the comments, which explains this vid...

How 'Bout Them WINGS!

Detroit Red Wings Brian Rafalski, right, and Henrik Zetterberg watchas the Wings 1st goal gets by Dallas Stars goalie Marty Turco.
(JULIAN H. GONZALEZ/DFP)

They won their ninth consecutive game last night…in Dallas. And, in so doing, they’ve consigned the Stars to that black hole that is 0-3 in a seven game series. From NHL.com:

Let’s get something straight right off the bat: The Detroit Red Wings will lose a game again, someday.

It could happen as early as Wednesday night, when the Dallas Stars will look to stave off elimination in these Western Conference Finals. Or it might come at some point during the Stanley Cup Final.

But with the way the Wings have been cruising ever since they recovered from a hiccup in the first round to finish off Nashville, would anyone truly be surprised if their next defeat comes at some point in October, after the 2008-09 season begins?

Further:

When the puck dropped Monday night at American Airlines Center, the Detroit Red Wings encountered exactly what they expected from the Dallas Stars in Game 3 of the Western Conference Finals.

Desperate not to drop a third straight game in the best-of-seven series, the Stars skated hard, capitalized on a couple mistakes by the Wings and even got a few breaks, like when Brad Richards scored off the skate of Detroit defenseman Brad Stuart early in the second period to tie the score.

[…]

But the Wings weathered the storm, and from the time Jiri Hudler put them ahead to stay midway through the second until the final horn sounded, there was little question about who was the better team.

And from The Dallas Morning News:

The Dallas Stars got nearly everything they were seeking when the Western Conference finals shifted back to Dallas on Monday.

The fact that Detroit won, 5-2, suggests that maybe the Stars are looking for something that isn't out there.

They got the better scoring chances early, outshooting the Red Wings, 5-0, in the first few minutes. They got the Red Wings to take penalties, giving Dallas a seven-minute edge in power-play time.

They won 43 percent of the faceoffs, which may sound awful given that they were at home, but after winning 38 and 29 percent in Games 1 and 2, at least the Stars got to play with the puck a little more frequently.

And they limited the team that gets the most shots on goal to 21 shots, their fewest in the postseason by five.

But they lost, 5-2, because they didn't get one thing they have lacked in this series.

They didn't get stand-on-his-head goaltending from Marty Turco.

Our columnist from Dallas is resorting to the oldest ritual among hockey pundits when things go bad: blame the goalie. The second oldest, of course, is blame the coach, but it’s doubtful we’ll see Dave Tippett on the street after this is over…which will be soon. Turco did let in at least one soft goal last evening, but the loss was far from his fault and his fault alone. There are any number of reasons the Stars lost last night, but let us not ignore the elephant in the room: the Wings are the better team. By far.

Oh, wait… he did say that:

That's not to say the Red Wings aren't the better team. Their skill players perform at a level that the Stars are unable to get to.

Or defend.

Pavel Datsyuk's hat trick, Henrik Zetterberg's short-handed goal and two assists – this is a two-man wrecking crew that apparently doesn't even need Johan Franzen, who was leading the team in goals before missing Games 2 and 3 with a concussion.

[…]

There's a reason this team wins the Presidents' Trophy more often of late than Tiger Woods wins majors. They're better than everyone else, and after frustrating playoff losses to Anaheim, Calgary, Edmonton and the Ducks again the last four years, the Wings are determined to prove it when it counts.

If the Stars have any hope – and I'm talking about getting to see Detroit again, not winning a seven-game series – it has to start with Turco on Wednesday.

Yet he comes back around to Turco. OK, point taken. Turco has to get better. But it really doesn’t matter how much better Turco gets, the Wings will win this series… if not tomorrow night, then most certainly when the series returns to Deetroit. The Wings are the better team… and this is, after all, a team sport.

It’s hard to find the words to describe this 2008 Red Wings team. “Awesome” comes close, but doesn’t begin to describe the coaching, the speed, the puck-handling, the passing, the defense, the goal tending, their depth… in short, the sheer magnificence of this team and their play. I’ve been a Wings fan for well over 20 years, and this is the best Wings team I’ve ever seen. Period. Full-stop. While you never know what will happen in these playoffs, it’s hard to think of anything other than “Stanley Cup” after watching the way the Wings systematically demolish their opponents. But I imagine there are more than a few people in Pennsylvania (be it Pittsburg or Philadelphia) thinking those “other” thoughts. Heh.

Good luck. You’re gonna need a TON of it.

Better Late...Yet Again

So. Last Friday I said the Stars would have to get better than they were in Game One of the conference finals or the Wings would register another sweep in these playoffs. The Stars did get better…much better, in fact… in Saturday evening’s 2-1 loss to the Wings. Yet still, the Stars are down 0-2 in this series, and while that’s not exactly an insurmountable obstacle, it’s pretty bad. But Dallas played with a lot more fire Saturday, if not discipline and concentration. Tonight’s game will be very interesting… assuming the ice is in decent shape, which is doubtful…given the temps in Dallas today. But the ice will be bad for both teams…that’s the way it goes. I’m expecting at least one fluky goal, if not more.

As for the Wings, they’ve won their last eight games in a row… and that’s a significant accomplishment at any time in the season, let alone in the playoffs. A cause for worry, too, coz as the smart guys tell us: “You can’t win ‘em all.” Michael Rosenberg discusses this very subject in his column in today’s Freep. Excerpt:

Saturday night, after the Red Wings wrapped up their eighth straight playoff win, I asked Nick Lidstrom if he realized this couldn't go on forever. His answer was the verbal equivalent of a delay-of-game penalty. He obviously wasn't going to say the Wings could win the rest of their games, but he wasn't going to concede that they will lose, either.

Perfectly understandable. But the fact is that the Wings are not going to win another six in a row. That would be superhuman. As it is, their eight-game winning streak is their best playoff run since at least 1995, when they also won eight in a row (and lost in the Stanley Cup Finals to the New Jersey Trapping Devils).

Turbulence is coming. What matters is how the Wings handle it. Sometimes in sports, teams are so dominant that when they finally get knocked down, they can't remember how to get back up. (In need of evidence? Check out the New England Patriots, the 1991 UNLV basketball team, the 1996 Red Wings, etc.)

These Wings certainly seem different. Their greatness is not built on one overwhelming aspect of their game, like the Patriots' offense was. It is built on being a complete team. They played the final two periods Saturday with a one-goal lead and never hesitated.

Good points, all. Especially the last. The Wings dealt with some low-level adversity Saturday when they lost their hottest player, Johan Franzen, to “concussion-like” symptoms. Yet the Wings’ game remained superb and you certainly couldn’t tell they missed The Mule, even though I’m sure they did. Franzen will be out for tonight’s game, as well. I expect another close game, and it just might be a lil bit chippy…based on what happened at the end of Game Two.

That’s not all bad, Gentle Reader. The best hockey happens when the opponents hate each other’s guts.

In other hockey news… the Flyers are down 0-2 to the Pens, but that series has been a lot closer than the won-lost numbers indicate. Game Two could have gone either way, and the series could be tied, for all intents and purposes. The series probably would be tied, were it not for the Flyers’ bad luck with injuries… but that’s playoff hockey. Stuff happens. It’s been entertaining to watch these guys go at it, at the very least.

―:☺:―

Susan Estrich, one of my very favorite people-I-love-to-hate actively dislike, has an interesting article today at Real Clear Politics. Excerpt:

Could Obama be another Dukakis?

It isn't just die-hard Clinton supporters who are pointing out the similarities. Even some Obama backers who believe that the nomination fight is over see the possible parallels, and are determined to avoid them, or at least try.

I was there. Mike Dukakis was (and is) a friend of mine. And so I can say that, while the danger is certainly worth recognizing, Barack Obama is no Mike Dukakis. Or at least he doesn't have to be.

There is no question that the Republicans will try to do to Obama what they did to Dukakis: paint him as a liberal, out of touch with the values of average (white) Americans, so far left that he has left America.

Isn’t it obvious, Sue? I mean really. There’s absolutely NO “painting” required here. Obama IS to the left of most Americans, he IS out of touch with the values of average Americans (nice play of the race card, BTW), and his ditzy wife…not to mention his spiritual and political mentors, but I will… are so far left they might could embarrass good ol’ Mr. Marx. That would be Karl, not Groucho. Or Harpo. Or any of the other Marx Bros, who were entertaining. Barack, OTOH, is simply irritating.

Don’t get me wrong… I respect Obama, and the man has certain gifts I wish the Republican candidate had. Those gifts…being personable, warm, and one of this country’s best orators… make him a formidable opponent. And a dangerous one, too. I don’t believe Senator McCain is taking Obama lightly, nor should he. But Obama has given McCain enough ammunition to allow McCain to prevail amongst thinking voters. It’s the “he’s just SO kewl!” voters and the Obama Girl clones we have to worry about. Nothing’s gonna get to them.

Coz it’s oh-so-very-hard to be kewl and smart at the same time. Or so Dad told me.

―:☺:―

Oh, Spare Me… Part Eleventy-Something. Blog-Bud Morgan goes on a great deal about this subject, and I hope I don’t cause him to burst a blood-vessel or something by posting this:

About six months after my son was born, he and I were sitting on a blanket in the park with a close friend and her daughter. It was a sunny summer weekend, and other parents and their children picnicked nearby. My friend and I, who, in fits of self-empowerment, had conceived our babies with donor sperm because we hadn’t met Mr Right, surveyed the idyllic scene.

“Ah, this is the dream,” I said, and we nodded in silence for a minute, then burst out laughing. In some ways, I meant it: we had both dreamt of motherhood, and here we were. But it was also decidedly not the dream. The dream, like that of our mothers and their mothers from time immemorial, was to fall in love, get married and live happily ever after. Of course, we’d be loath to admit it, but ask any soul-baring 40-year-old single heterosexual woman what she most longs for in life and she probably won’t tell you it’s a better career, a smaller waistline or a bigger apartment. Most likely, she will say that what she really wants is a husband (and, by extension, a child).

To the outside world, we still call ourselves feminists, and insist that we are independent, self-sufficient and don’t believe that damsel-in-distress stuff. In reality, however, we are women who want a traditional family. And, despite growing up in an era when the centuries-old mantra of getting married young was finally replaced by pursuit of high ideals (education, career, but also true love), every woman I know – no matter how successful and ambitious, how financially and emotionally secure – feels panic if she hits 30 and finds herself unmarried.

Oh, I know. I’m guessing there are single, 30-year-old women reading this right now who will write letters to the editor to say that I have no idea what I’m talking about. All I can say is, if you say you’re not worried, you’re either in denial or lying.

That’s just the first four grafs. It gets worse… or better, depending on your point of view. What we have here, basically, is yet another article telling women to “settle.” Don’t wait for Mr. Right, grab Mr. Nearly-Right and get on with it, in other words. Or: a recipe for disaster in most cases, especially where American women are concerned. Forgive me, but it’s my opinion that most women are never quite satisfied…there’s always “room for improvement” where Hubby is concerned, to put it kindly and mildly. As I said: this is my opinion, you’re free to have yours. And I’m sure you do.

But, back to the Times article. This is Really Bad Advice. Don’t settle…never settle. Still and even, the article is a good read, if only to gain insight into the mind of the 21^st Century Liberated Woman, Brit-style.

If you need that sort of thing.

(Image by Ariel Bordeaux, the creator of the comic 'Deep Girl' as well as the book 'No Love Lost' (1997), published by Drawn & Quarterly.)

A Re-Run

Only coz it's timely and appropriate... From last year:

Happy Mother's Day!

Ah…dog poop. Probably one of the (very) minor reasons my second marriage failed…coz The Second Mrs. Pennington was largely in charge of the particularly odious chore—following behind three dogs, including two pretty good-sized ones—let’s say about 90% of it. And she never hesitated to point out that fact to me. But then again, maybe not. TSMP killed both dogs that were left in our home the week she found out she was pregnant with SN3 (not literally, of course. The vet did the actual dirty work.) She left two years later and hadn’t picked up a whole helluva lot of dog poop…none, in fact… during the intervening time. But I digress. Even though there’s a story in there.

The Mom’s Day image comes from new-to-me blog TGAW…who has great pics of Glacier National Park, in addition to providing me with this “wouldn’t it be great but it would NEVER frickin’ happen in real life” Mom’s Day illustration. Thanks (ed: again!), TGAW Vicky!!

Remind me to write about Glacier…some day.

But, seriously. Happy Mother’s Day to all my favorite Moms, and even to those who aren’t my favorites. I’ll remain cryptic on that last.

“The Blog for Googlers”

I’m thinking of changing EIP’s tag line from “If a Lifetime Can Be Likened to a Day…” to “The Blog for Googlers.” Or something like it. Why, you ask? Just this (Click for larger, of course):

You’ll note that fully 52 out of the 80 selected visits today (we’re up to 136 visits as I write…an abnormally high number for a Saturday) were people coming around looking for Mothers Day cards, images, sayings, etc., etc. And that’s not counting the folks who came by looking for bullwhips or “chippy dinner,” whatever the Hell that is.

Blog-Bud Morgan has already laid claim to “the blog nobody reads” as his tag-line, so I can’t use that. Besides being unethical, it wouldn’t be entirely true…coz I am read by more than a few Googlers. Alternatively, I could rip off the Marines (“The Few. The Proud. The EIP Readers.”)... but pissing off big, healthy, physically-fit guys with guns (not mention tanks and Apaches) isn’t a very good idea.

Ah well. Drop-ins are better than no readers at all, eh?

The Clever and The Cute... In Exactly That Order

Dunno if you’ve seen this Heineken ad…but here’s your chance:

Good, innit? The ad, I mean. I’ll drink Heineken in a pinch, but I’ve never sampled their light beer. I’m philosophically opposed to the concept of “lite,” be it food, soft drinks, or what-have-you… but MOST especially when it comes to beer. The only decent acceptable light beer I’ve ever drank was Labatt Blue Light. And I didn’t make it a habit. But The Second Mrs. Pennington did…note the empties stacked in the corner of our garage, back in the day.

Now I’m NOT saying TSMP had an issue with alcohol or anything — far from it. She’s just a good ol’ gal who enjoys her beer. My kinda woman, in other words. But you knew that, Gentle Reader.

―:☺:―

Today’s Pic: Great grand-baby Taurean held at arm’s length by Mom Amanda, whom I’m sure was trying unsuccessfully to get out of the picture. The end result is you get all of Taurean and half of Amanda. More’s the pity, eh? I may be biased as all get-out, but I DO believe Amanda is as beautiful as any young woman I’ve ever seen. The girl has a killer smile!

And here you thought TSMP and SN3 was Today’s Pic… dint ya? Fooled ya.

Tales From the Front

Yesterday was about as close to a “computer-free” day as it gets around El Casa Móvil De Pennington. I wrote yesterday’s post the night before and used Blogger’s new scheduling feature to publish the post at oh-dark-thirty, or long before those visions of sugar plums had ceased dancing in my head (“Sugar plums” being a euphemism for this sort of thing, of course). Scheduling is pretty cool; I plan to make use of it more often.

So… once I was up and about I fired off the coffee, got cleaned up, had one cup here in the house, loaded up the travel mug, and made the short journey over to The Big(ger) City^TM where Baby got her nu shooz mounted (finally!) and I got a late breakfast at IHOP.

About IHOP… I was seated, scanned the menu quickly, and gave my order to the waitress, who, in turn, brought me coffee as I requested. “Do you take cream” she asks? “Yes, please,” sez I. “I’ll be back in a moment…” sez she. Well, a moment came and went, along with several other moments, until I noticed there was half and half on the table next to mine, so I just grabbed that and forgot about the waitress NOT bringing me my cream.

Fifteen minutes pass by, punctuated by two clue-free wait people trying to foist a burger plate and an order of chocolate chip pancakes off on me. “That’s not me,” sez I, on both occasions. Another ten minutes pass by and my order… a simple order: two eggs, two pancakes, bacon… finally arrives. My waitress informs me she’s gonna give me a ten percent discount coz my order took so long, and would there be anything else? “Yes. I’d like some more butter, please.” “OK. I’ll be right back.” She never returned, for the second time.

Note to IHOP waitress: your tip is with my cream and butter. Or somewhere near there.

Service: The Final Frontier.

―:☺:―

Since I happened to be in The Big(ger) City^TM I took the opportunity to get my cell phone reprogrammed. We’ve had an area code change here in New Mexico…our heretofore single, state-wide area code (505) being insufficient to support the explosive growth in cell phones. ABQ and Santa Fe get to keep their 505 numbers, but us country bumpkins must change to area code 575. And so we have. I sent out an “all-points” e-mail yesterday asking my telephone correspondents to update their speed-dial entries with my new number. This blog entry is just re-enforcement…

―:☺:―

I swung by the base on my way back to P-Ville with two objectives in mind: (a) get those scrips for the drugs I have to take prior to my surgery filled at the hospital clinic and (b) make my weekly visit to the commissary. I was half-successful… the commissary was open, the clinic was not.

I was shocked…and that is NOT too strong a word… to find the clinic closed for a “training day.” How, or why, is it the Air Force thinks it appropriate to close an entire facility, and most especially the clinic (!), for a training day? Can you not train half the folks one day and half the next? I think that’s the way we used to do these sorts of things, but I’m old and my memory just might be failing me. But I think not.

Bottom line: I have to return to the base today. I am NOT a Happy Camper about this. Yeah, it’s small stuff and I suppose I shouldn’t be pissed. But I am, Gentle Reader… I AM.

―:☺:―

A brief hockey update… Last night’s game was too easy for the Beloved Red Wings; they systematically dismantled Dallas and won by the lopsided score of 4-1. Dallas played a very undisciplined game for the first one and a half periods, and paid the price by surrendering three power-play goals... which is more than they gave up during their entire six-game series with the Sharks. Marty Turco is now 0-8-2 at The Joe. Chris Osgood, OTOH, played brilliantly and was in no small part responsible for the Wings’ win. Ozzie made some awesome saves last evening and is now 7-0 in the playoffs. Video highlights here.

This could be a very short series if the Stars continue to play as they did last night. Everyone in Dallas (and their Moms!) will point to Sunday night/Monday morning’s game as an excuse for the Stars dismal performance and there may be an ever-so-small grain of truth in that. The Stars did look lethargic and did an awful lot of standing around. We’ll see if there’s improvement in Dallas’ game this Saturday night.

You can get out the brooms if there isn’t.

Goat Entrails…

The ancient seers got nothin’ on modern-day sportswriters. Whereas the ancients killed a goat, a chicken, or other such domestic animal and examined the entrails for omens and signs, professional sportswriters turn to statistical analysis…which is much the same thing, minus the blood, gore, and stench. Case in point:

The Pittsburgh Penguins and Detroit Red Wings have positioned themselves best for the heavy lifting that will come, largely because they’ve managed to avoid a lot of heavy lifting through the first half of the playoffs.

And because of that, if history is any indicator, the Penguins and Red Wings will meet in the Stanley Cup final with the Penguins emerging as slight favorites at this point.

The fact Pittsburgh played three fewer games than the Philadelphia Flyers through the first two rounds and the Red Wings two fewer than the Dallas Stars might not seem like much, but history tells a different story.

There have been 20 playoffs since the league went to the four-round, best-of-seven format in 1987 and it has been proven time and again teams that get through the first two rounds quickly stand the best chance of winning the Stanley Cup.

[…]

As an aside, THN picked the Stars to defeat Detroit in this round over my vehement objections. And the reason we chose Dallas is the same reason why I’m choosing Detroit – Stars goalie Marty Turco.

Yes, Turco has been the star of the playoffs so far, but for some reason he has a serious mental block when playing at Joe Louis Arena. He comes into these playoffs with a 0-7-2 record as an NHLer at the Joe, which is odd considering the fact he was spectacular in the building as a college goalie with the University of Michigan. (ed: I just had to include this aside. Coz it’s semi-relevant to the issue at hand.)

Why is it I’m reminded of that ol’ “lies, damned lies, and statistics” saying? I’m not discounting either history or statistical analysis, mind you… I’m a big fan of both. But statistics don’t consider the intangibles, or the relative skill of the teams in question, and they can’t possibly reveal or even divine the most closely guarded information in the playoffs, which is the health of the teams in question, overall or individually. Aside from health, one of the keys to winning a championship in any sport is “Who wants it most?” Sure, everyone wants to win and no one wants to lose. But the guys that want it most are the guys that usually take it home. That’s been proven time and time again, to quote our guy from The Hockey News. Still and even, it’s fun to read the tea leaves… or rather someone else’s interpretation of what those leaves…or entrails… may or may not be saying.

We’ll know soon enough.

―:☺:―

Islamic garden? Really?

Location

Continent: Europe
Country: Romania (Facts)
State/Region: Iasi
City: Iasi

Language: English (U.S.)
Time of Visit: May 7 2008 10:06:59 am
Last Page View: May 7 2008 10:06:59 am
Visit Length: 0 seconds
Page Views: 1
Referring URL: http://images.google...1%26hl%3Dro%26sa%3DG
Search Engine: images.google.ro
Search Words: islamic garden collage

Our googler clicked through on this image:

You may draw your own conclusions, Gentle Reader.

Broadening Our Horizons

I decided to “take the air” yesterday afternoon and have a sit outside in the fading sun and brisk breeze, accompanied by my usual sidekicks… a good beer and a great cee-gar. Here’s the crew, just before we stepped outside to enjoy the air.

Pictured is New Belgium Brewery’s Trippel ale, a Belgian-style ale. The folks at Beer Advocate give it a B+, and one of their “star” reviewers gave it an A-. Unaccustomed as I am to public speaking the language of beer criticism (and food. and wine.), I’ll defer to the Brothers:

Presentation: 12 oz brown bottle with a best before date on the side of the label. Info about the brewery and beer are on the label as well. One ounce of beer was left in the bottle with the dregs as to not cloud the brew.

Appearance: Right away two fingers of froth appear in the chalice, clinging lace is witnessed and in very good shape. Bubbly golden, looks like a tame brut.

Smell: Peaches and roses … very aromatic, phenols and a melon like fruitiness round out the aroma as well.

Taste & Mouthfeel: Super crisp with a yeast palate right from the get go, not overwhelming but it is there. Light maltiness of doughy biscuits and harsh husk. Some busy phenols throw down a mix of herbal and medicinal magic with a touch of hop bitterness to boot. Vaguely fruity; starch plantains and faint peach. A breath of alcohol in the finish. The bitterness lingers for a good while into the after taste.

Notes: Very refreshing with the 8.5% abv being slightly hidden, quite the palate cleanser. Cabot has this Parmesan Cheddar blend, a perfect match with some mini rye bread. If you are into Trippels this is a must try, IMO this is a good stepping stone to jump into the vast world of Belgian Beer.

(ed: Click the image to the left for a larger view of the label. How could you not love a beer with a label like this?)

Well. I can’t write like that, Gentle Reader, nor can I draw appropriate comparisons (“Peaches and roses … very aromatic, phenols and a melon like fruitiness…”) when it comes to beer. Nevertheless, I like Trippel. A lot.

My previous excursions into that “vast world of Belgian Beer” have not been noteworthy. I’ve sampled several Belgian lambic beers, most notably the fruit (raspberry and strawberry) variants, and I was less than impressed. Fruit and beer just don’t go together, IMHO. The Belgian beers I sampled…real Belgians, as opposed to “Belgian-style”…also had a sourness about them. “Sour,” as a dominant characteristic, has never been high on my list of qualities to be admired in a beer…any beer…and “sour” was the prominent feature of every Belgian-style beer I’d ever encountered. That was several…make that many… years ago, and I’d never had the inclination to try again. Until just recently, that is, and I’m glad I mustered whatever was required to re-visit the genre. I strongly suspect the recipe for New Belgium’s Trippel has been massaged to fit American tastes, and I’m quite alright with that…coz the result is great. Trippel will join the usual, customary, and (quite) reasonable beer inventory in the fridge at El Casa Móvil De Pennington.

Oh. And the cee-gar? One of those recently-acquired Partagas Spanish Rosados. Very tasty. That cee-gar, by the way, is sitting in an antique ashtray… if one considers something from the 1940s as an antique…which sat on my father’s nightstand as far back as I can remember, and probably a lot further than that, if we’re speaking truth. Nonetheless, this ashtray is one of my prized possessions.

And, apropos of nothing… I liked the beer and the pic well enough to make it my new wallpaper. The Second Mrs. Pennington has been fired. That was a long time coming…

Odds and Sods

So. We had ourselves a bit of a scare last evening in the form of a tornado warning…not a watch, but a real live “take shelter now!” warning…just after 1900 hrs or so. I was watching the WX Channel out of one eye and reading with the other when the “beep-beep-beep” noise of an alert coming from the teevee got my full attention. We had been under a severe t-storm watch most all of yesterday, and prudent people will keep an eye on the weather, if they’re smart (more about which, below). Ergo, I had the WX Channel on as background noise.

I immediately leapt to my feet, gathered up my cell phone and a couple of magazines and beat a hasty retreat out to the car and down the road to Roosevelt County General Hospital, which is the nearest shelter of any sort. As I left Beautiful La Hacienda Trailer Park I noticed that I seemed to be the only one leaving, and there had been about a five minute lag between the onset of the tornado warning and my departure. About which: less than smart. There’s a reason trailer parks are known as “tornado magnets,” and the reputation is well-deserved.

So… to make a long story much shorter: no tornado…at least not in our general vicinity. I spent a little over an hour at Roosevelt County General and then came on back home after the severe storm warning had expired. The National Weather Service never did cancel or otherwise rescind the tornado warning, which I thought a bit strange. But…oh, well. Sometimes it bees like that.

I also wish I had taken my camera with me last night. I’d forgotten all about daylight savings time and just assumed it was dark outside because it was, well, night. Wrong again, Bucko. It was dark because of the huge clouds roiling to the south and east of us… and the sky had taken on that greenish-black tint that’s often the harbinger of weather nastiness. But I wasn’t about to go back to El Casa Móvil De Pennington and retrieve the camera. Nope…I had someplace to BE. Someplace safe.

―:☺:―

I spent well over an hour at my dentist’s office today. We went through the work-up for my upcoming surgery, which consisted mostly of me signing and/or initialing a ream of disclaimers, acknowledgements, understandings, and releases. This, Gentle Reader, is a classic case of the very few poisoning the well for the great majority of us… our litigious society, and all that. I understand the need for all the paperwork, as one malpractice suit has the potential to wipe out a successful practice, be it medical or dental. So… medical professionals do the CYA thing, and I would, too. This IS America, after all. All that paperwork is still a right royal pain in the nether regions for all involved.

There were a couple of light moments, however. Micah (aka Mrs. Thompson), who handles the Good Doctor’s business-side, took my blood pressure and pulse at the beginning of the process… joking that she’d get a better reading before I wrote that big check, rather than after. She was right, too. I can’t recall the last time I wrote a check with five figures to the left of the decimal point but I’m quite sure it had something to do with buying a house. One thing I may suggest, though: use that nitrous oxide just before the patient writes the check. Laughing gas would help, considerably.

But we’re all done, except for getting my tired ass out to the base and getting a few prescriptions filled for drugs to be taken before we go under the knife. We’ll do that tomorrow, coz we don’t wanna go into task-overload, or anything like it. Heh.

―:☺:―

Yet another thing I didn’t mention over the course of the last few days… SN1 surprised me this past Saturday when he called directly after Philadelphia’s Umberger put a pretty goal in the net during the first period of the final (as it turned out) Flyers – Habs game. I was surprised because while SN1 rarely misses a Wings game, it’s rare for him to watch other teams play although it has been known to happen. So we chatted a bit, exchanged views on the chances of the respective teams and that was it. Until just after midway through the second period, that is. The phone rings and it’s SN1 again, asking “What the HELL happened? Montreal was up 3-1 when I walked away from the teevee to do something… I come back and Philly is up, 4-3!” “Well,” sez I, “Price just self-destructed. Imploded. Blew right the Hell up!” “I guess!”, sez he. And then we launched into a discussion about goalies being the keys to success in the playoffs, so on and so forth.

We also got off on a discussion about how different it is to watch hockey when you don’t care all that much about either team, one way or the other. “No dog in that fight,” and so on. I made a rather crude analogy concerning love and sex…which I won’t repeat verbatim in this space (PG-13, and all that)... to the effect of “it’s ALL good, but some experiences are waaay better than others…” We laughed, and that was the end of that.

But it’s true. I’m emotionally involved with the Wings. But I like to watch other teams play, as well, I'm just not invested...so to speak. As for that love and sex analogy...I never had that attitude about or towards women. Not all that much, anyway. And not that I’d tell you if it were that much, Gentle Reader. I have something of an image to uphold.

Such as it is.

(All images retrieved from these here inter-tubes using generic google searches. And that's not ME, to the left. You could be excused for thinking so, however.)

"You've Got Mail!"

In the “Wish You Were Here” Dept... or rather the “Wish I was THERE” Dept… Gentle Reader Ashley is off gallivanting around Hawaii and was gracious enough to send us a post card. Is that conical object in the palms yet another example of aliens amongst us? Or just mishandling by the folks at the USPS? Not that that would ever happen, ya know.

And Ash… you really don’t have a lot of catching up to do… especially if ya skip the hockey posts. In which case: you’re nearly caught up right now.

Life sorta intrudes today and I have a bit of running around to do. Back later. Maybe.

I'm Seeing Stars

Well. The match-ups for the conference finals are decided. It’ll be an “All-PA” final in the east, and Deetroit gets the Stars. The conference finals begin Thursday. I said I wanted the Stars - Sharks series to go seven games and I got my wish, after a fashion. I just didn’t think Game Six would run on into Game Seven, and continue nine minutes into Game Eight. From the Dallas Morning News:

The new leadership of the Dallas Stars planted a stake in the ice at American Airlines Center early Monday morning.

Marty Turco came up with a career-best 61 saves, and Brenden Morrow scored his third career postseason overtime goal as Dallas survived the third-longest game in franchise history and defeated the San Jose Sharks, 2-1, to end their best-of-7 Western Conference semifinal in six games.

"Tonight was as fitting as anything I’ve ever seen in sports that Brenden got that winning goal,’’ Stars coach Dave Tippett said of a game that ended at 1:24 a.m. and started five hours and 14 minutes before.

Morrow redirected in a Stephane Robidas pass on the power play to score at 69:03 of overtime. It was his seventh goal in the playoffs this season and underscored what he has meant to a Stars team that is advancing to the Western Conference finals for the first time since 2000.

I was there for the whole thing (and I stayed awake, too), which ended at 0024 hrs, my time. You know there were some tired-ass folks dragging in to work all over Dallas this morning…tired, but happy. For a while, anyway. Also from the Dallas Morning News:

Expect the early spotlight to be on Stars goaltender Marty Turco and the Red Wings' skilled young forwards.

“We saw the last series was tough,” Turco said. “This is going to be even tougher.”

Turco is 2-10-5 against the Red Wings and hasn’t won at Joe Louis Arena since his college days, when he was wearing Michigan’s maize-and-blue.

One of Turco’s two wins came this season, a 1-0 shutout at the American Airlines Center.

“That's one team that's had my number,” Turco said at the time. “It's going to take a while to catch up, but that's my goal.”

Two of the reasons why Turco – and for that matter nearly the entire NHL – has struggled against the Red Wings are forwards Pavel Datsyuk and Henrik Zetterberg. The two have combined for 74 goals and 189 points this season.

Their skill and puck possession will present an extreme matchup for the Stars' young defensemen. Detroit won three of the four head-to-head meetings this season, outscoring the Stars, 12-5.

Zetterberg has three goals and 21 point in 18 career games against the Stars. Datsyuk has been similarly productive, with nine goals and 19 points in 19 games.

"When you watch Zetterberg and Datsyuk go out there and dominate the game, that's frustrating," Tippett said after a 5-3 loss in Detroit on March 13. "These guys are setting the bar for the Western Conference, so we better raise our bar. We better raise our bar, or we're in trouble."

If the Stars didn’t have enough to worry about, 6-3, 220-pound Johan Franzen had nine goals in four games against Colorado, breaking a long-standing record held by Gordie Howe.

The Stars have three full days and part of another to recover from their grueling win before they face the buzz-saw that is Detroit. They’re tired, you can be sure of that. You can also be sure they’re somewhat beat-up, coz this was a very physical series. Yet Big D has Big Mo going into Hockeytown…and a goalie who’s both confident and playing his best game in years. This ain’t gonna be a cake-walk for the Wings, even though some folks are predicting the Wings in five. I’m thinking more like Wings in six, and the great majority of the 7,500+ people taking ESPN.com’s poll agree with me:

8) Which team will win this series?

45.5%Red Wings 4-2
20.9%Stars 4-3
13.8%Red Wings 4-1
9.3%Stars 4-2
7.3%Red Wings 4-3
2.2%Red Wings 4-0
0.5%Stars 4-0
0.5%Stars 4-1

Total Votes: 7,531

Other polls… This early NHL.com poll is interesting, innit? And I love the mouse-over map you get when you take the ESPN poll at the top of this post (ya gotta take the poll at ESPN’s NHL page to see the map, though). Here are a couple of screen caps of the results I got this morning from the respective polls (click for larger):

These polls mean nothing, other than counting up how many fans of the respective teams took the time to vote. But I see some truth in the results — I think we’ll see Sidney Crosby and Co. journey to Deetroit for the first game of the 2008 Stanley Cup Finals. Your mileage most certainly may vary, Gentle Reader.

But first: Dallas. This will be a good, if not great, series.

More Kewlness

Some more technological magic commissioned by Festo, that German company that gave us the Air Jelly featured in yesterday’s post. This is a musical composition titled “Fast Blue Air.”

How it’s done:

The music program played by "The Sound Machines" is saved in midi files, and the sound is generated in three steps. For the first “digital” step, the sound machines are controlled by a PLC (programmable logic controller). In the second step, pneumatic components cause the strings to vibrate by either plucking them like a guitarist or stroking them like a string musician. In the third step, the sound is received and amplified by electronic pick-ups, similarly to an electric guitar. The sound machines offer a variety of options for generating very different musical effects.

You can find a more complete overview of the sound machines here. There’s a link to more detail than you could possibly want (unless you happen to be a pneumatic engineer) at that link, as well.

I love this stuff… or: Geeks ‘R’ Us!

Kewlness

I want one. I wonder if Festo makes a smaller version…say, ten inches in diameter? Wouldn’t that just amaze and mystify your friends to see this thingie floating around the house? You know it would…

Wow. Just Wow!

Goalies Chris Osgood and Colorado's Peter Budaj shake hands at the end of the game. (Caption and Photo: Detroit News)

From the Detroit News:

DENVER -- This time there was no Patrick Roy in net, and it was Denver rather than Joe Louis Arena.

This wasn't a Game 7, either, but a rather anticlimactic Game 4.

But the Red Wings hammered the Colorado Avalanche in a series-clinching game again, this time 8-2, to sweep the Western Conference semifinal series in four games.

And it was every bit the rout the final score indicated.

Johan Franzen led the way, scoring three goals, giving him nine for the series (Franzen has 11 in the playoffs).

The nine goals are a Red Wings record for a four-game series, breaking Gordie Howe's eight goals in seven games in 1949.

Franzen's 11 goals also set a Wings record for a playoff year. Peter Klima (1988, 10 goals), Sergei Fedorov (10 goals in 22 games, 1998) and Brett Hull (10 goals in 23 games, 2002) were the previous record-holders.

"Every time you get mentioned with him (Gordie Howe), it's a great honor," Franzen said. "I don't know what to say. I feel real lucky right now."

How good was Franzen in this series, and how ineffective were the Avalanche? The Avs also finished the series with nine goals.

"It's not often you see a player score like this, it's fun to be part of it," said Henrik Zetterberg, who had two goals and two assists Thursday. "I'm real happy for him. He's been working hard."

The Wings flew back to Detroit on Friday morning and await the winner of the Dallas-San Jose series. Dallas leads the series 3-1.

Further… from NHL.com:

Though two of the games ended 4-3, the series was rarely competitive — unlike the teams’ five meetings between 1996 and 2002, which were some of the hardest-fought pre-Final series in NHL history. This time, Detroit led after every period, trailed for less than eight minutes in the four games, and drove Avs starter Jose Theodore from the net in three of the four games, including this one.

[…]

Theodore gave up a bad goal 4:33 into the game to give the Red Wings an early lead. Mikael Samuelsson’s nothing-special slap shot from the top of right circle should have been stopped easily — but it went through Theodore’s pads and trickled into the net.

Colorado got a break when Holmstrom’s penalty for tripping in the offensive zone 84 seconds after Samuelsson’s goal gave the Avalanche a power play, and they wasted little time getting even. Joe Sakic’s passout from behind the net to the left of Osgood found Tyler Arnason, whose quick one-timer at 6:51 tied the score at 1-1 on the Avs’ first shot of the game. It was Colorado’s third power-play goal in its last five opportunities.

Then the bottom fell out amid a blizzard of highlight-film goals.

You can see those highlights here, and they’re MOST definitely worth watching, especially Zetterberg’s goal at 14:15 of the second period. You’ll not see a prettier goal for as long as you live... and I’ll guarantee that. (Note: I’m not going to post anymore NHL video, coz I think the clips are doing wonky things to the blog. We’ve had complaints…)

Last night’s game will be remembered in Deetroit for a long, long time. It’s a rare thing to see that much talent on the ice at one time, and even rarer to see one team exhibit such complete, utter domination over another in the NHL today. The Game 7 and Patrick Roy references in the DetNews article quoted above are all about the game I talked about here… and which I mentioned to SN1 on the phone last evening after the Wings scored their fifth goal. Which, apropos of nothing, leads me to believe I might have a future as a hockey color announcer, after a couple more seasons… mainly coz the Versus guys mentioned the same thing, albeit several minutes later.

Speaking of SN1 and the phone… it’s our habit to exchange phone calls as the games progress, usually after each goal…by either team. So, it’s a good thing both of us have the same carrier, with the “talk all ya want” option on our contracts, coz we certainly burnt up the airwaves last night. And the both of us were in the same sort of mood, too… that mood being “giddy.” Great good fun, that was. We ran out of superlatives by the start of the third period and were reduced to simply saying “wow” whenever the Wings did something remarkable, which, in case ya didn’t notice, Gentle Reader, was often.

So. The Wings are half-way there. It looks like Dallas is next, and the Stars just have to be wondering how they’re gonna deal with these Wings. The next series is gonna be a lot tougher than the Avs were. Dallas is healthy and Turco is, as noted day before yesterday, hotter than hot. Hot goalies have sent the Red Wings off to the golf course more than once in the playoffs in recent years, Jean-Sebastien Giguere being the most recent. But this year?

I don’t think so.

―:☺:―

Today’s Pics: SN1 sends along some cell-phone photos (I think... given the pics' small size) taken at his graduation from USAF’s Advanced Maintenance and Munitions Officers School (AMMOS). Pictured above are daughter-in-law Erma, grandson Sean (looking quite spiffy in his suit, nu?), The First Mrs. Pennington, and The Captain looking spiffy hissownself, in mess dress.

Taken a couple of weeks ago, on or near Nellis AFB in Lost Wages, NV.

Taking a Mental Health Day, of Sorts

Dunno exactly why, but I feel semi-compelled to apologize for the lack of meaningful content around these parts, of late. Long-time readers (both of you) know the tone of EIP has changed radically over the course of the last two months or so. Whereas we used to be something like “all politics, all the time,” these days it’s seemingly all hockey, all the time. But that’s just because of the season, Gentle Reader, and like Christmas, it comes but once a year. And you’re probably glad for it, too.

There’s a reason for the lack of political content… more than one, actually. To begin with, I’m finding politics supremely boring of late. Nothing much has changed over the course of the last month, perhaps two. The Obamanon and Hillary are still at it, and I, for one, am MUCH more than capable of looking away from this particular train-wreck. I find the situation neither amusing nor interesting at the moment, but I will admit I feel more than a certain amount of schadenfreude. It’s good to see your ideological opponents beat themselves senseless (not that either had a whole helluva lot of sense, to begin with), and we on the Right can only benefit from the excessive behavior of both of these Useful Idiots.

And what can be said about The Right, while we’re on about such things? Not much. McCain is enjoying the calm before the general election storm and is, for all intents and purposes, quiescent at the moment. I’m OK… much MORE than OK, actually… with that. Keep flying under the radar, John, build your org, and collect lotsa money. I’m here for ya, come November.

There are no lack of “outrages du jour” lately (and there never is, what with Outrage! being the stock and trade of our illustrious media), but I’m tiring of those, as well. I’m conserving my outrage for the Fall (read that: general election), when I intend to let it blossom and flower to its fullest extent. And there ya go: fair warning.

Nope…these days I’m ALL about the odd and the whimsical, but ya gotta have a certain amount of motivation to go out and seek it. Sometimes I get lucky and it finds me... by way of my in-box, or else in the blogs of my more-motivated blog-buddies.

So. All of the above is a sort of left-handed way of saying I have nothing to say. Sometimes it bees like that.

One note: wishes do come true. San Jose won last night… so that series goes to a Game Five, at the very least. And Philly looks like they’re gonna put Montreal away, going up 3-1 in their series last evening. Not that I actually care about that series, what with having no dog in that particular fight. But it IS hockey, and a good hockey game beats the Hell out of just about anything and everything else that’s out there, at the moment.

We’ll resume normal programming at some point in the near future. In the meantime, please accept my apologies for the rampant mediocrity on display around here of late.

(post script: about the mood images I’ve used these last two days. I’ve stolen them from here, and quite useful they are.)