Two days ago was the one year anniversary of my father's death. A lot can be written about one's father, but just because it was the anniversary of his death I wasn't convinced that I should or needed to write about him, for a father should be thought of and written about at any time. I could write a lot about him, but let me sum it up like this - my father loved me - and I know this because he told me a lot. In the two weeks he was in the hospital before he died mom and I would leave his room and on the way out we would give him a kiss and tell him "I love you." He would reply, even in his drugged or lost state of mind by pursing his lips and saying back to us "I love you." A man I grew up with who I can't say that I ever remember him telling me "I love you" made up for it in the years of my adulthood.
I don't recall that until I told him I was gay that there was the love expressions that I received after telling him. I am sure that as a child he told me, and he was one to show me his love without telling it to me verbally. But for a long time I don't ever recall him saying to me that he loved me. I had my mom telling me that she loved me regularly, but that my dad did tell me and even showed it more than I could have ever imagined is a great help.
Scared - I was scared to tell dad I am gay. I thought that my dad was a conservative man who would hate me. I think that is what a lot of people think about their fathers. But this wasn't true. He was a compassionate man. A man who cared very much for his family, his friends and for the life that he was living. He is a man that I will say will endure in my heart for eternity and not just because he was my "father" but because he espoused what it meant to be a father.
I look at today's children and their parents and because I am not a parent I am somewhat appalled at how parents have become obssessed with their child's activities. Parents are being run ragged by having to take their kids to ball games, practices, dance lessons, piano lessons or the like. When is their time for the parent? When does a parent really get to play what they want to play? My father would take me down on Saturday mornings to get a bag of candy (the candy probably cost a dollar or two at most). Saturday afternoon dad would take me back to 7-11 for a Slurpee. The candy would come first, then home to do yard work and then to get a Slurpee for me in the afternoon. That was the routine for years, and it was wonderful. I didn't play sports until I was in high school and then my parents would come to the games, but it wasn't anything that if they didn't show I was disappointed about. I wonder today what children will do when all of the sudden mom and dad aren't at a practice or a game - they will probably end up in a Psych ward somewhere.
Dad was dad. He wasn't a conservative zealot after all. He was real. He hated George W. Bush. Said he was the worst President ever - and when my dad was born Warren Harding was President. That's a lot of men in that position and W was the worst one? Dad was a Democrat. Mom was the Republican. Go figure! (Mom isn't a Republican any more.) I found out that dad wasn't what I thought he was. He was tender and loving. My coming out surprised him. He never said a thing to me about it. Treated me no differently the next day as he did the previous day. When he found out I was using drugs he didn't tell me how stupid that was. He loved me the same the day before as he did the day after. He supported me and wanted to be there as much as possible. He didn't drive, so mom had to drive and up they came to support me when I was in rehab. He was there when I got out. He was there before I went in. Dad also never got on me like mom did about me chewing my fingernails. I'm not sure why, but I want to think that he figured mom did enough nagging that he didn't need to add insult to injury.
Yes, it isn't the same going home to Fresno without him. I know that he is buried in the cemetery and that his body will remain there until the great flood brings it up and floats it somewhere or that it stays there forever. I know that his soul is a part of me and will always be around me. I haven't felt his presence, in the ghost-like type of presence, but I wouldn't be surprised if someday I do feel him. I just know that he is always a part of me because of who he was - he was for me a father! Donald George Seibert will always be MY father and I will always be HIS son. For that I am grateful. More I could write. More I will write. But for now, the memory of my father and his life - his life up until the end - is what is important for me. It is different for my mom because he was her husband, but if it wasn't for him I wouldn't be here to write this blog about him. I love you dad! I love you very very much! Thank YOU for me and thank YOU for YOU!
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
Graffiti
Walking to and from BART each day I encounter a myriad of things with the sight of my eyes. The one thing that is most prominent is graffiti. I have mixed emotions about taggers: on one hand I would like to see them caught and handcuffed to a pole with their pants pulled down (assuming they are male) and their crotch spray painted with the paint from the spray can or have them cuffed around a pole no matter whether they are male or female with a sandwich board sign around them telling they are graffiti taggers; on the other side I see art. The people doing the tagging who are just writing words that are probably gang inspired isn't necessarily art, though it could be, but just a way of letting other gangs know who is around - like a cat spraying its territory. Today, I saw that a new display was created on the Oakland Museum. I am sure it wasn't there yesterday, and it spells out something but in such large letters that I can't make out what it says.
In Fresno there was a program to stop taggers - graffiti was everywhere and when there was money the effort was placed in arresting taggers and sending them to jail. The money isn't there now, so the effort has been reduced to practically nothing and there is no room in the jail for them anyway. It was a model program - stress on the word "was." Now they can't keep up with removing graffiti. The cost to taxpayers is a lot higher than we want to admit, but the problem is NOT going to go away. Graffiti has been around for as long as humans have been around - it just takes different forms.
One could argue that hieroglyphics is a form of graffiti. Who gave the right to any living creature to write on a wall what was going on in the life of people hundreds to thousands of years ago? Today we look on it as a sign of a great thing - "Thank goodness they wrote on these walls to help us explain what was going on way back when." Why isn't writing on a wall now with a pen or a spray can taken the same way? Why can't we see that some of these taggers are really pretty good artists? I would encourage the art community to do something about this - to spend the time watching at night the walls where the taggers are focusing and arrest their minds and ask them to consider using their skills for the betterment of a wall.
Every object that is produced has a color to it. Let's take the Oakland Museum. Its entire border is cement! Cement is gray! Granted, the intention is for it to be that color, but do we really need to have another gray building in an area that is so diverse and multi-cultural? Why can't the art community - the painters of the area either use their talents to create a better looking facade - enlist the taggers to create a mural of what they feel represents their needs and achievements. Rather than painting over what the taggers do, let the taggers paint the walls! I have noticed that when a wall is tagged, generally, the tagged area isn't painted over, so why can't we take and make art in that manner?
We could fill our jails with taggers, but they will get out of jail and go back to doing what they have been doing. I really think that it is their way of expressing whatever it is they need to express - whether because they are told to express it or because they want the world to see it and hopefully understand it. Some of what these people do is really not bad in the eyes of an artist. The general public thinks it is disgusting and terrible - but if Picasso went out and painted his artwork on a building there would be people to find that distasteful. I think that community leaders need to take a different tact in their efforts to make graffiti more acceptable. You will notice that graffiti isn't painted on courthouses or police stations - but everywhere else it is painted. We could go after the spray paint can business, but I can see where that won't get us anywhere because it hasn't gotten us anywhere in the past and there will be those people who are regular users of spray paint for non-graffiti reasons that won't want it taken away from them. We could go after the marking pen industry, but we know that won't work. Graffiti will never go away until we are all dead! Animals marking their spot is a form of graffiti, so until Earth blows up we will have taggers and it all depends on how tagging is viewed in the eyes of the beholder and the beholdee.
I could write more, but the point is made in The View From Up Here.
In Fresno there was a program to stop taggers - graffiti was everywhere and when there was money the effort was placed in arresting taggers and sending them to jail. The money isn't there now, so the effort has been reduced to practically nothing and there is no room in the jail for them anyway. It was a model program - stress on the word "was." Now they can't keep up with removing graffiti. The cost to taxpayers is a lot higher than we want to admit, but the problem is NOT going to go away. Graffiti has been around for as long as humans have been around - it just takes different forms.
One could argue that hieroglyphics is a form of graffiti. Who gave the right to any living creature to write on a wall what was going on in the life of people hundreds to thousands of years ago? Today we look on it as a sign of a great thing - "Thank goodness they wrote on these walls to help us explain what was going on way back when." Why isn't writing on a wall now with a pen or a spray can taken the same way? Why can't we see that some of these taggers are really pretty good artists? I would encourage the art community to do something about this - to spend the time watching at night the walls where the taggers are focusing and arrest their minds and ask them to consider using their skills for the betterment of a wall.
Every object that is produced has a color to it. Let's take the Oakland Museum. Its entire border is cement! Cement is gray! Granted, the intention is for it to be that color, but do we really need to have another gray building in an area that is so diverse and multi-cultural? Why can't the art community - the painters of the area either use their talents to create a better looking facade - enlist the taggers to create a mural of what they feel represents their needs and achievements. Rather than painting over what the taggers do, let the taggers paint the walls! I have noticed that when a wall is tagged, generally, the tagged area isn't painted over, so why can't we take and make art in that manner?
We could fill our jails with taggers, but they will get out of jail and go back to doing what they have been doing. I really think that it is their way of expressing whatever it is they need to express - whether because they are told to express it or because they want the world to see it and hopefully understand it. Some of what these people do is really not bad in the eyes of an artist. The general public thinks it is disgusting and terrible - but if Picasso went out and painted his artwork on a building there would be people to find that distasteful. I think that community leaders need to take a different tact in their efforts to make graffiti more acceptable. You will notice that graffiti isn't painted on courthouses or police stations - but everywhere else it is painted. We could go after the spray paint can business, but I can see where that won't get us anywhere because it hasn't gotten us anywhere in the past and there will be those people who are regular users of spray paint for non-graffiti reasons that won't want it taken away from them. We could go after the marking pen industry, but we know that won't work. Graffiti will never go away until we are all dead! Animals marking their spot is a form of graffiti, so until Earth blows up we will have taggers and it all depends on how tagging is viewed in the eyes of the beholder and the beholdee.
I could write more, but the point is made in The View From Up Here.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Scott
Every day that I can write I have thought "what can I write about today?" Reality is that I can write about anything I want. Reality is that I may not want to write at all. The great thing about being my own boss in writing is that I can do just about anything I want and no one can tell me not to write or that I must write. Unlike Isabel Allende, January 8 is not the date in which I begin all my book writings but the day that my cousin Scott has his birthday.
Let me tell you about Scott. What Scott probably doesn't know is that he is the person in the family that I most envy. He's always been able to do what he wants - yeah, he listened to his mother and he got his high school diploma, but then he had a sense for desire and adventure and he has lived it every day of his life. He took his inheritance from his grandmother (his father's mother) and used it to buy 10 acres of land in New Mexico, outside of Taos. He built his own home out of adobe brick that he made himself. He planted crops to sustain him.
I envy Scott because he has survived without needing anyone else. He's gone on his whims and been able to build what I am sure he believes (hey, I believe he has, at least) a successful life. He has built relationships with the people of the area. He has made great friends. He works the land and works the land of others. He's health conscious - he eats good food, he doesn't drink (at least, not that I have ever known) and while I think he has enjoyed some medicinal "drugs" he hasn't let it get the better of him. Scott does what he wants and is successful.
He even bought some land in Colorado and in the remote wilderness was building a cabin. His sister (who will be reading this told me once, I believe, that Scott's idea was to be able to survive a winter in this cabin since once the snows came getting out wouldn't be that easy). How wonderful to be able to have enough to live on for an entire winter and to enjoy yourself. Now, I am not sure that any of this has happened because I don't ever talk to Scott, though I did get the opportunity about two years ago when we were visiting Martha and he called.
Here I am, sitting in a crappy desk at work, thinking about how many more years I will be able to work and then where will I live and what will I do - and there in New Mexico enjoying himself every day of his life is my cousin Scott. I'm not sure that I would call him my hero, but in some respects I think he might be. He's done very well for himself. He doesn't have lots of money (maybe he does, i don't know) but money isn't what keeps Scott motivated. I know that because he's never been about dressing for success.
I remember when we were all in the front yard at our grandparents house - this was the day that we were waiting for the limousine to pick us up to take us to our grandfather's funeral - I said to him "you didn't dress up." Scott never "dressed up" because he didn't need to dress up. He was able to be casual and cool! One day when I was probably in junior high Scott and I went for a ride in his mother's car - a big four door LTD (for those who remember when Ford made those). We went off-roading in a fig orchard in that car. I remember him telling me "don't tell my mother." I never did, but that was fun! More fun than when Martha let me drive the LTD - my first driving experience - in a neighborhood. No, I didn't hit any cars, and as I recall I did a good job of driving.
Scott loved to skateboard - I remember him building a skateboard from a ski. He was doing all the things they do with skateboards now, but this was back in the 70's.
This is how the view from up here is - remembering things that are all good. I wanted to share with you my cousin Scott, who I keep saying that I am going to go visit (even though he has an out-house and no inside potty). I haven't been there yet. Not sure why, but I haven't. There are many places I haven't been, but I am sure that Scott would like to have me come visit. I certainly am fascinated to see where he lives and what he's growing and what he's doing to his house and all those things that I can only imagine about because I haven't taken the time to go see him. I know that Scott will not come visit me - he's not a fan of the city life - and I don't blame him. He's too busy to go visit his sister - who will only put him to work - he can't sit still!
Scott - to you I thank you, for you have been an influence on my life. I will tell you that when he heard that I was using drugs he laughed - Jeff? Using drugs? Yeah, right. He's also one of those guys that if you saw him with the long hair and the long beard you'd swear he was a good-for-nothing person. That is where we are wrong to assume. For Scott has been anything but the opposite - he has always been a good for something person. Here's to Scott!
That is my view
Let me tell you about Scott. What Scott probably doesn't know is that he is the person in the family that I most envy. He's always been able to do what he wants - yeah, he listened to his mother and he got his high school diploma, but then he had a sense for desire and adventure and he has lived it every day of his life. He took his inheritance from his grandmother (his father's mother) and used it to buy 10 acres of land in New Mexico, outside of Taos. He built his own home out of adobe brick that he made himself. He planted crops to sustain him.
I envy Scott because he has survived without needing anyone else. He's gone on his whims and been able to build what I am sure he believes (hey, I believe he has, at least) a successful life. He has built relationships with the people of the area. He has made great friends. He works the land and works the land of others. He's health conscious - he eats good food, he doesn't drink (at least, not that I have ever known) and while I think he has enjoyed some medicinal "drugs" he hasn't let it get the better of him. Scott does what he wants and is successful.
He even bought some land in Colorado and in the remote wilderness was building a cabin. His sister (who will be reading this told me once, I believe, that Scott's idea was to be able to survive a winter in this cabin since once the snows came getting out wouldn't be that easy). How wonderful to be able to have enough to live on for an entire winter and to enjoy yourself. Now, I am not sure that any of this has happened because I don't ever talk to Scott, though I did get the opportunity about two years ago when we were visiting Martha and he called.
Here I am, sitting in a crappy desk at work, thinking about how many more years I will be able to work and then where will I live and what will I do - and there in New Mexico enjoying himself every day of his life is my cousin Scott. I'm not sure that I would call him my hero, but in some respects I think he might be. He's done very well for himself. He doesn't have lots of money (maybe he does, i don't know) but money isn't what keeps Scott motivated. I know that because he's never been about dressing for success.
I remember when we were all in the front yard at our grandparents house - this was the day that we were waiting for the limousine to pick us up to take us to our grandfather's funeral - I said to him "you didn't dress up." Scott never "dressed up" because he didn't need to dress up. He was able to be casual and cool! One day when I was probably in junior high Scott and I went for a ride in his mother's car - a big four door LTD (for those who remember when Ford made those). We went off-roading in a fig orchard in that car. I remember him telling me "don't tell my mother." I never did, but that was fun! More fun than when Martha let me drive the LTD - my first driving experience - in a neighborhood. No, I didn't hit any cars, and as I recall I did a good job of driving.
Scott loved to skateboard - I remember him building a skateboard from a ski. He was doing all the things they do with skateboards now, but this was back in the 70's.
This is how the view from up here is - remembering things that are all good. I wanted to share with you my cousin Scott, who I keep saying that I am going to go visit (even though he has an out-house and no inside potty). I haven't been there yet. Not sure why, but I haven't. There are many places I haven't been, but I am sure that Scott would like to have me come visit. I certainly am fascinated to see where he lives and what he's growing and what he's doing to his house and all those things that I can only imagine about because I haven't taken the time to go see him. I know that Scott will not come visit me - he's not a fan of the city life - and I don't blame him. He's too busy to go visit his sister - who will only put him to work - he can't sit still!
Scott - to you I thank you, for you have been an influence on my life. I will tell you that when he heard that I was using drugs he laughed - Jeff? Using drugs? Yeah, right. He's also one of those guys that if you saw him with the long hair and the long beard you'd swear he was a good-for-nothing person. That is where we are wrong to assume. For Scott has been anything but the opposite - he has always been a good for something person. Here's to Scott!
That is my view
Monday, April 18, 2011
It's Raining - or is it?
Actually, it is rain if water is falling from the sky, correct? It doesn't matter if the rain is a mist, a sprinkle a drizzle or hail - it is rain, right? Right. It is thus raining outside - or it was a few minutes ago when I went to get my lunch.
So in the real sense of the title of this blog, it is raining. However, it could be said that it is raining on many people's parades of late. You know what, it is going to continue raining on the parades of many people. For one, it is supposed to rain throughout the day today, literally, and then do it some more Wednesday and into Thursday. The computer models suggest this and surprisingly (or is it surprising with a computer?) the models have been pretty accurate at predicting where it will rain and then actually have it rain in those areas. For two, it will always be raining somewhere. It may not be raining here, but over there it will definitely be raining.
Have you noticed that in the bay area we haven't had an earthquake in quite awhile? At least not an earthquake that knocks down bridges, freeways and buildings - but if you take a look at the weather that is occurring in the midwest and the south of the United States there have been lots of people killed in the past week due to tornadoes. I am willing to bet, still, if you asked the people in the south and the midwest what they would rather endure - earthquakes or tornadoes - they would say "tornadoes!" I bet the reply as to why a tornado is that "well, gee, because i can see it coming." Problem I see is that they don't see or if they do they still can't seek the proper shelter in time. Earthquakes have killed far fewer people in the United States in the past decade or two than tornadoes have killed in the past 10 - 20 years. Chances are that an earthquake won't take my car and throw it 2 miles down the road, either.
I am not convinced that there is any place left that is completely "safe" to live. The weather is going to get us one place or another.
The rain on our parade continues to grow. We haven't even brought up the "rain on the parade" mentality that is occurring that doesn't even involve the physical weather. I'm not sure I want to even go there because I am not sure I can keep my mind focused - there are so many parade wetters (sounds like people watching a parade who can't get to the bathroom in time) that I am not sure where to begin.
On another topic altogether, I had an interesting dream while sleeping last night. Everyone who reads this might not know that I am a crystal meth addict. I realize that while I haven't used the drug in close to 4.5 years, the possibility always exists that I could go back to using it for whatever reason. I also have learned that I have an addictive personality and that I am also co-dependent. But that all aside, when I stopped using drugs I would have dreams at night that I was still using drugs. I still have them, but not as often. The dream I had last night is one that I tend to have more of and that is of me chewing my fingernails. I had this habit all of my adult life and stopped chewing them in January 2010.
Last night's dream was a bit different because not only was I chewing my nails, but I could taste how they tasted as I did it and then in the dream I woke up and realized that I actually had been chewing my fingernails and was greatly disappointed with myself for having done it to all 10 fingers (thumbs are considered fingers at this point - I am sure that someone who reads this could want me to be politically correct and use the word "digits" instead of "fingers" but it isn't their blog, so get over it). The reality is that I didn't chew my fingernails in my sleep last night. When I woke up this morning they were still attached.
It was great to wake up and realize I hadn't chewed my fingernails. It is always good to wake up from these dreams and realize the dream is just a dream. It is the same way with my waking up from dreaming about using crystal meth. In those dreams I realize I am dreaming, even though I have felt the effects of using the drug in the dream, but I know that I am not actually using the drug.
While it is raining on others, my life sees a lot more sunshine. For this, I am grateful!
Today, that is the View From Up Here.
So in the real sense of the title of this blog, it is raining. However, it could be said that it is raining on many people's parades of late. You know what, it is going to continue raining on the parades of many people. For one, it is supposed to rain throughout the day today, literally, and then do it some more Wednesday and into Thursday. The computer models suggest this and surprisingly (or is it surprising with a computer?) the models have been pretty accurate at predicting where it will rain and then actually have it rain in those areas. For two, it will always be raining somewhere. It may not be raining here, but over there it will definitely be raining.
Have you noticed that in the bay area we haven't had an earthquake in quite awhile? At least not an earthquake that knocks down bridges, freeways and buildings - but if you take a look at the weather that is occurring in the midwest and the south of the United States there have been lots of people killed in the past week due to tornadoes. I am willing to bet, still, if you asked the people in the south and the midwest what they would rather endure - earthquakes or tornadoes - they would say "tornadoes!" I bet the reply as to why a tornado is that "well, gee, because i can see it coming." Problem I see is that they don't see or if they do they still can't seek the proper shelter in time. Earthquakes have killed far fewer people in the United States in the past decade or two than tornadoes have killed in the past 10 - 20 years. Chances are that an earthquake won't take my car and throw it 2 miles down the road, either.
I am not convinced that there is any place left that is completely "safe" to live. The weather is going to get us one place or another.
The rain on our parade continues to grow. We haven't even brought up the "rain on the parade" mentality that is occurring that doesn't even involve the physical weather. I'm not sure I want to even go there because I am not sure I can keep my mind focused - there are so many parade wetters (sounds like people watching a parade who can't get to the bathroom in time) that I am not sure where to begin.
On another topic altogether, I had an interesting dream while sleeping last night. Everyone who reads this might not know that I am a crystal meth addict. I realize that while I haven't used the drug in close to 4.5 years, the possibility always exists that I could go back to using it for whatever reason. I also have learned that I have an addictive personality and that I am also co-dependent. But that all aside, when I stopped using drugs I would have dreams at night that I was still using drugs. I still have them, but not as often. The dream I had last night is one that I tend to have more of and that is of me chewing my fingernails. I had this habit all of my adult life and stopped chewing them in January 2010.
Last night's dream was a bit different because not only was I chewing my nails, but I could taste how they tasted as I did it and then in the dream I woke up and realized that I actually had been chewing my fingernails and was greatly disappointed with myself for having done it to all 10 fingers (thumbs are considered fingers at this point - I am sure that someone who reads this could want me to be politically correct and use the word "digits" instead of "fingers" but it isn't their blog, so get over it). The reality is that I didn't chew my fingernails in my sleep last night. When I woke up this morning they were still attached.
It was great to wake up and realize I hadn't chewed my fingernails. It is always good to wake up from these dreams and realize the dream is just a dream. It is the same way with my waking up from dreaming about using crystal meth. In those dreams I realize I am dreaming, even though I have felt the effects of using the drug in the dream, but I know that I am not actually using the drug.
While it is raining on others, my life sees a lot more sunshine. For this, I am grateful!
Today, that is the View From Up Here.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Google SUCKS
I wrote a second blog. It disappeared. Nowhere to be found. Google SUCKS! Dammit! Oh well, I spent all that time writing and it didn't save it so it appears. Not one of my best blogs, so maybe it is just as well.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
The First View From Up Here
Blogs are meant to be one person's viewpoint on whatever the blogger wishes to write about - I for one have my opinion(s) on many topics and I will blog them. You will either agree, disagree or stand neutral. I respect anyone who wants to differ with me. I tend not to read as much about certain topics - reading other people's opinions helps to create my own opinions.
So having no idea if people can or will be able to read what I write, just be tactful. One doesn't need to cuss another out because one disagrees. I do know that I tend to write something that people agree with and like a lot. For instance, Barry Bonds being found guilty of Obstruction of Justice. The fact is that because Barry made a point of being an asshole when he was playing, he is an asshole. Even if only one count of guilt was reached, it was worthwhile.
My father was definitely a man who did not like Barry Bonds. My dad would say that whenever Barry was running the bases he was panning for the cameras. So if my father, who died a year ago the end of this month were still alive, he would probably be happy that Barry's karma came back to him. Yes, Bonds may only get house arrest, but I really would like to see how he looks in an orange jumpsuit that isn't SF Giants orange.
Barry will now always be an asterisk for sure in everything mentioned about him. Now in his defense, steroid use was never ruled illegal. Thus millions and millions of dollars have been spent to investigate the use of steroids - they could have paid me $20 to tell you "yes, players have used steroids." Why have they used steroids - athletes use them to get ahead. We all have egos, Bonds is a perfect example, and what better way to boost your ego by getting larger in stature and size. We know that muscle wins the day - when was the last Beefstake calendar posted where men weren't muscular? Exactly! Our society wants athletes to perform. SF Giant fans, going into the World Series only had Barry's home run record to hang on. Now that the World Series is won, we can look past Barry and his home runs and realize that Barry didn't help the Giants win a World Series because home runs don't win a World Series - hits win, team play wins. Barry isn't a team player. He was never a team player. He hit home runs and that is something you do solo.
Ok, so I was interrupted and can't remember what else I was going to ramble on about, but needless to say that if the US Government attorneys think that spending more money to retry Barry is a good idea I believe a call to the US Attorney's office will be in order to say "You've got to be kidding me?" Another topic of discussion will have to be, for all of us, "if i have to pay taxes, can I designate where they are spent?" That would eliminate needless warlock-hunts.
So having no idea if people can or will be able to read what I write, just be tactful. One doesn't need to cuss another out because one disagrees. I do know that I tend to write something that people agree with and like a lot. For instance, Barry Bonds being found guilty of Obstruction of Justice. The fact is that because Barry made a point of being an asshole when he was playing, he is an asshole. Even if only one count of guilt was reached, it was worthwhile.
My father was definitely a man who did not like Barry Bonds. My dad would say that whenever Barry was running the bases he was panning for the cameras. So if my father, who died a year ago the end of this month were still alive, he would probably be happy that Barry's karma came back to him. Yes, Bonds may only get house arrest, but I really would like to see how he looks in an orange jumpsuit that isn't SF Giants orange.
Barry will now always be an asterisk for sure in everything mentioned about him. Now in his defense, steroid use was never ruled illegal. Thus millions and millions of dollars have been spent to investigate the use of steroids - they could have paid me $20 to tell you "yes, players have used steroids." Why have they used steroids - athletes use them to get ahead. We all have egos, Bonds is a perfect example, and what better way to boost your ego by getting larger in stature and size. We know that muscle wins the day - when was the last Beefstake calendar posted where men weren't muscular? Exactly! Our society wants athletes to perform. SF Giant fans, going into the World Series only had Barry's home run record to hang on. Now that the World Series is won, we can look past Barry and his home runs and realize that Barry didn't help the Giants win a World Series because home runs don't win a World Series - hits win, team play wins. Barry isn't a team player. He was never a team player. He hit home runs and that is something you do solo.
Ok, so I was interrupted and can't remember what else I was going to ramble on about, but needless to say that if the US Government attorneys think that spending more money to retry Barry is a good idea I believe a call to the US Attorney's office will be in order to say "You've got to be kidding me?" Another topic of discussion will have to be, for all of us, "if i have to pay taxes, can I designate where they are spent?" That would eliminate needless warlock-hunts.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)