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Rooting Against the Miami Heat
Sportswriters are telling us to get over it. To get over the ego of LeBron James; forget the tastelessly tacky ESPN announcement show where he jilted Cleveland; ignore the three-ring, laser-circus Miami Heat signing event in which LeBron, Dwayne Wade and Chris Bosh stood on platforms posing like Greek Gods.
We’re supposed to sit in awe at this dawn of a new dynasty led by a guy many are now calling the greatest basketball player who ever lived. No- I don’t think so. I’m not going to like this one bit. I like my heroes slightly humble and with more than one dimension. Mickey Mantle was deeply flawed but he had the humility to go along with the once-in-a-generation talent. Muhammad Ali backed up his arrogance with grace and power but there was more to him than boxing; he sacrificed the best years of his career on principle- opposing participation in the Vietnam War and refusing induction into the U.S. Army on religious grounds.
One gets the sense the only thing that matters to LeBron James is basking in his own wonderfulness, an exercise that is much easier to do when you have your own huge posses who constantly remind you of your greatness.
I remember his famous return to Cleveland back in March. LeBron reportedly doesn’t like to ride on the team bus and he makes his own travel arrangements. But on this occasion he didn’t clear it with anybody so when he turned up at the player’s parking lot in a limo with a second vehicle behind him carrying his posse of friends, the Cleveland Cavaliers turned him right around. They let him in once he’d come back alone. Then he skipped the pre-game introductions in his old hometown, claiming he forgot and must have been in the bathroom.
He’s got all the talent in the world. Miami has the best basketball team money can buy. So what? The only actually interesting thing about these NBA Finals, is if Dirk Nowitzki and the Dallas Mavericks can somehow manage to derail this Hollywood Dream Team and inject in them, that missing sense of humility. Maybe the addition of a little character will make all the egos a little easier to take.
Oh- so you’re good at basketball? Yawn. Hockey is a much cooler pastime anyway. I have a thing for team sports.
Garciamedialife Takes a Brief Pause…
Just momentarily…while part 2 of the Epic Move from Hell continues. The fun part is getting to drive from New York City to DC on I-95 the Friday before Memorial Day weekend with a dog throwing up in the back seat. Sshhhh…don’t tell Avis.
Back with more extreme moderate snarkiness next week…have a great holiday weekend everyone. And remember those who have fallen to keep us safe and free.
Just In Case the World Ends Saturday
Well, actually, rapture is Saturday- the world ends in October according to Harold Camping of Family Radio Worldwide. In any case, I’m not likely going anywhere special Saturday, except a brief visit to New York City, which some people think is heaven and others think is hell.
I do want to point out that Harold Camping predicted the end of the world in 1994 so unless we’re living in some parallel universe, I am not going to be cashing in options, packing bags, selling houses or otherwise preparing for the end. His record is spotty.
And just out of curiosity- why are some of Camping’s followers selling their houses? You can’t take the proceeds with you, can you? Do they take money up there? What if it turns out they only take Euros?
I understand some folks, poking some good-natured fun at Camping’s prediction, are having rapture parties and such. Yes, I’m a skeptic, but I’m also no tempter of fate. I’m hoping my neutral stance might possibly put me in the rapture crowd. You know, just in case.
If I am rejected, I will see you on Sunday and start saying my goodbyes in late September.
Later.
If there is one.
Moving Mayhem- Dust Bunnies & Memories
I took a few days to relocate within the DC area over the weekend, moving from Chinatown to Arlington- my 8th relocation in 10 years and I’ve pretty much had it with this process. I mean how many times in one day can you possibly forget where you put your keys and your cell phone?
One of the fun things about apartment renting is always the exit; the pre-inspection inspection and then the actual inspection inspection. Everything was good for the pre-inspection inspection as there was still furniture. Post-move, I’ve never seen so many dust bunnies packed into 900 square feet; how does that happen? Thanks to Jiffy Maids, I’ll yet retain my dignity.
And I got indirectly serenaded during my last night in Chinatown. It was the final night of Police Week in Washington and law enforcement people from every corner of the country had gathered for various observances, ceremonies and, apparently-parties. No doubt, for this one week, I lived on the safest block in America. I’ve never seen so many cops in one place.
Saturday night- they blew it out big time. It was actually 2am Sunday, and I couldn’t sleep anyway, but the unmistakable strains of bag pipes permeated the whole neighborhood. It was, in fact, one of the nicest renditions of Amazing Grace I’ve ever heard on bag pipes. And when the guy finished, you could hear the inebriated roar of a crowd that must have counted 200. Extremely inspiring.
Ah, Chinatown- I’ll miss you, you big lug. Over my year and a half living next to the Verizon Center and overlooking an alley next to one of the most raucous clubs in DC, I’ve heard everything from knife-fights and arrests to blaring car horns after every Caps home-playoff victory (that would be 4 times over two years). I’ll miss Chinatown Express; the best, greasiest Chinese food ever. That’s the restaurant with the guys in the windows making noodles next to the hanging dead ducks and chickens.
While I entered the great moving vortex, I see I missed some important current events. They found Osama bin Laden’s “huge” stash of porn and I just learned Donald Trump has decided not to run for President. Smart move, Donald. And as for Osama- who knew the world’s #1 terrorist was pretty much a hypocritical, dirty old man? Nice legacy, bin Laden.
So all is right with the world, I’m moved in- I have cable and access to the world wide web. On to the boxes.
Navy SEALs & Surgical Strikes
By the end of this fiscal year, the U.S. will have spent $1.3 trillion dollars over the past decade prosecuting the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. I propose we wrap things up now and employ that Navy SEAL-6 squad instead.
Seems to me you can spend billions and billions going after the tail of the monster, or a couple hundred million and go for a double-tap to the head of the beast. No, really. What if instead of sending hundreds of thousands of U.S. troops, we had just used good intelligence and Navy sharp-shooters eight years ago to take out Saddam Hussein?
What if instead of fighting what may become a protracted conflict in Libya, we send Muammar Ghadafi a little note hinting that some Navy SEALS may be paying him a visit shortly. Might he immediately negotiate for exile in Sharm el Sheikh where he and Hosni Mubarak could have adjoining estates?
I’m only half-kidding. It seems to me there are a lot of different ways to get to the same end. The surgical strike approach gets there faster and a hell of a lot cheaper in both treasure and human lives. Getting the leader doesn’t ensure victory but I suspect it speeds up the process.
But you can’t go around the world assassinating people, you argue? Excuse me, but did you see what we just did with Osama bin Laden? Did we ask Pakistan’s permission? Did we ask them to come along? No, we didn’t. That would have been pretty darned silly, considering the laser-sharp quality of Pakistani intelligence which couldn’t figure out what that big million dollar mansion was with the 18-foot walls and barbed wire some 50 miles from their nation’s capital.
And in total seriousness, the more I learn about these Navy SEALs, the better I sleep at night. I am so glad they’re on our side. The truth of the matter is that they have been engaged in many missions in Iraq and Afghanistan. Remember the American ship captain they rescued last year from Somali pirates with pinpoint fire at a tiny target bobbing up and down in a large ocean? I believe that was the last time we know of that President Obama specifically turned to the SEALs.
For a few facts and photos about this elite squad of warriors, you might want to check out this slide-show from Slate.com entitled, “No Bark, All Bite.”
Reacting to the Demise of OBL
I’ll let others do the commentary. From solemnity to humor, here are a few of the reactions to the death of Osama Bin Laden:
From Daily Beast blogger, Andrew Sullivan on what the President knew but didn’t let on about:
The poker face of the man has for the last few weeks been pretty damn impressive. Just because he’s calm doesn’t mean he isn’t lethal.
From New York’s Newsday newspaper:
Kathy Ugalde of Deer Park, whose father, Raymond Downey, chief of rescue operations for the FDNY, was killed, said her emotions ran the gamut from relief to sadness. “Ten years later, I feel a sense of relief to know they got the person who murdered my father,” she said.
“I do think it was something that had to be done, but all those poor souls, it will not bring them back,” said Joan Dwyer of Smithtown, whose son Patrick, 37, perished. Dwyer was a trader at Cantor Fitzgerald.
The Tweets (from Business Insider)
9/11 widow on my flight. In tears. Comforted by entire cabin. Life altering event to see- Jim Forman
Leave it to America to upstage a royal wedding- Emily Zanotti
Bin Laden dead; invasive TSA patdowns to be replaced by invasive TSA high-fives- Kris Straub
They should have captured Bin Laden alive and made him go through airport security 4 the rest of his life- Jeremy Hanks
Hm. Maybe this is what the Prez meant when he told Trump he had more important things to do- Andrea Seabrook
And from Tweet Soup.com
In one last act of terror Osama bin Laden ruined a great episode of Celebrity Apprentice last night. NBC’s special report on his death cutoff the last 30-minutes of the show, leaving Apprentice fans in the dark about who was fired on this week’s episode.
The main headline: Trump fired Hope Dworaczyk, 2010 Playmate of the Year.
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