Git yer CLT's

Lunch Thoughts in the links. Enjoy.

A Little Wine With Your Chicken?

OK ya' bunch o' whiners, here are the much anticipated Panno Wedding photos. Chicken, if you want to discuss a fair price for the destruction of the rest, give me a call.

Pannos
Matt and Tish
R3, R4 and Jen
CB and Shark Hunter
White Zin Grin
Luck-eee
One glass later . . . , three glasses later . . . , one bottle later . . .
Have a seat baby, time to do my thang!

"It's the Oil Cans!"

Recalling the interview I heard this morning with Robert Pape, author of "Dying to Win: The Strategic Logic of Suicide Terrorism", I can't help but think of the classic "oil can" scene from The Jerk. Expecting some sort of new insight from Mr. Pape as to why Islamofacists kill innocents by blowing themselves up, I was disappointed to learn that the main thrust of his argument is rather worn: suicide bombers are a reaction to Western occupation of Arab lands. Not having read the book I can only assume his answer is leave Iraq and Afghanistan and suicide bombings will decrease if not stop.

As you've probably guessed, I think Mr. Pape's explanation of terrorist motives is about as insightful and accurate as Steve Martin's was about bullet riddled oil cans. I will concede, though, the stats certainly seem to be on Pape's side. We weren't in Iraq or Afghanistan in September of 2001 and there was only one attack that month. But I will spare you all a lengthy dispute of Pape's premise here. Olivier Roy did that, if unintentionally, on last Friday's New York Times op/ed page, and much more eloquently than I ever could--see his article here.

Just Brutal

A week without Laurie, soaring temperatures, Cheeseburger and Shark Hunter moving away, contentious condo association meetings, property tax payments and masochism (I'm golfing again)--who else wants a beer?

Of course it's not all bad. It looks like my pothead neighbors are moving out and I will soon have vinyl siding on my condo. The siding thing's a mixed blessing, though. It should increase the value of my condo but wasn't free. I'll be stuck paying for it over the next two years or out of the proceeds from the sale of the condo if I move before then. But let's try to focus on the positive, shall we? Like the fact I was able to enjoy a brief respite over the weekend partying with friends at the Panno wedding and spending quality time with Laurie. I even got to shoot a few clays out at Joe and Dar's place. Actually, I shot at clays. My hit percentage was somewhere just south of the current prime interest rate. Sad thing is I think I'm better at trap shooting than golf.

I will be posting pics from the Panno wedding shortly. I've yet to get them off the camera. I'll try to do that tomorrow night. By the way, Laurie, if you're reading have a great day and know I love you. Sorry for the sap folks, but Laurie's in Colorado this week serving as a camp counselor for a bunch of teenage punks. She needs all the encouragement she can get. If you have her e-mail address, drop her a line. She'd love to hear from you.

We've Got a Couple of Jumpers!

I'm coming to you from my "field office" in south suburban Chicago. I'm up here staying with Laurie's folks and will be attending Scott and Amanda's wedding later this afternoon. Like everyone else, I wish them both the best and I'm confident they will have it. Scotty's a smart guy and Amanda's even smarter. If any two young people can make a go of it, they can. And if they stay in Seattle, I'm sure they will raise wonderful hippie children. I kid, Scott, I kid.

Seriously, in this era of cynicism about real love and marriage it always does my heart good to see two young people stand up and say, "I do". It's just reassuring to know that there are still people out there who aren't afraid to take risks. Who aren't afraid to dive in despite what the statistics say. After all, statistics only indicate what other people did, not what you are going to do. The future's all yours Mr. and Mrs. Panno.

Don't Worry Tiger . . . You're Safe

It's late and I've got a lot to do tomorrow, so I'll be brief. I had one of the best golf games I've ever had today. After work Cousin Mike, Sebo, Chicken and I took in a round of twilight golf. Not being a great golfer I was more looking forward to spending a little time outdoors, the companionship and drinking beer, not necessarily to the game. Why? Because, to be blunt, I suck at the game of golf. And for the first 6 or so holes this held true, until #7.

I don't know what happened. There are several possible explanations: it was a full moon, I'd drank the magic number of beers and/or I simply ceased caring. Whatever the cause, all of the sudden, I started hitting the ball well. Next thing you know I get my first par of the evening. Ah, who am I kidding, it was the first par I've had in at least two seasons of golf. Next hole? Bogey. #9? Bogey. Then, as darkness gathered, we teed up on 10. Sebo handed out these magic yellow golf balls. They had to have been magic. Not only could you see them better in the reduced light, but I hit mine 300 yards.

I thought surely the twilight shadows were deceiving me. No way could I hit a ball that far. Yet as Chicken and I rolled down the fairway to find our, uh, balls, I spotted mine laying about 50 yards from the pin right smack in the middle of the fairway. One uncharacteristically good chip shot later and I was laying on the green, 15 feet from the cup. I say again, I was laying on the green in two shots on a par four. Start digging the shelter now, people. The apocalypse must be at hand.

As I'm waiting to putt, the phone rings. It's the Big Guy. He wants to know what I'm doing. "Only having the greatest hole of golf in my entire life!", I reply. "I'm getting ready to chip for bird. Want to stay on and listen?" I handed the phone to Sebo who provided color commentary. It was a down hill putt, so I didn't tap it too hard. Turns out I probably should have. I choked, but sank the par.

By now it's dark and Chicken is coming into his own, too. We can't let a little thing like nightfall stop us. When we teed up on 11 there was hardly any light left. We all hit. Everybody crushed their T-shot. Chicken, Mr. "I haven't played golf in years", hit his the furthest. That sandbaggin' little . . . I'm watching you Chicken. Anyway, Cousin Mike buoyed by everyone's sudden good fortune says we're playing on. There's a full moon and if we stay in the fairway, we can easily see where the bright yellow balls land.

It was about this time it occurred to me that the two youngsters running the pro shop were probably ticked that we weren't back. That's the only explanation I have for them turning the sprinklers on. Golf sprinklers put out a lot of water by the way. Sewer water according to Mike and Sebo who decided to drive through one. I couldn't smell it on them, but I guess they could. Chicken and I chose to bug out as soon as the sprinklers came on, so we avoided a similar fate.

Afterward, Sebo and Mike returned to married life and Chicken and I went to watch crappy movies.* Now I must sleep.

*Note: The author in no way, shape or form was insinuating married life is a bad thing. As one who looks forward to joining the ranks of the married very soon, I was merely making statements of fact. Yeah, I need to get to sleep.

Bush-Hater Baiters

"In this case, there exists ample evidence on the public record to cast serious doubt as to whether a crime has even been committed under the Intelligence Identities Portection Act . . . "

Another defensive soundbite from the beleaguered White House press secretary, Scott McCllelan? Rush's latest diatribe against Joe Wilson? Some crazy blogger's attempt to defend the indefensible? Try an excerpt from the amicus brief submitted by 36 major news organizations (many of which are still reporting this story as if there is no doubt a crime was committed) on behalf of their colleagues/martyrs Judith Miller and Matthew Cooper.

As I've suspected for some time, the media's constant resuscitation of this story has less to do with there actually being a story tell and more to do with keeping the Bush-hating public buying papers and watching the news. It appears that while they have been hard at work insinuating this and implying that in the news they publish, they've been spinning quite a different story to the courts. Andrew McCarthy of The National Review gives a rather revealing look at what the mainstream media really thinks of the case, but won't tell you. Check it out here. Read the amicus brief here.

All Hail Cheeseburger

I've added my friend Katie's blog to the list of links. This is the same Katie referred to in my last blog entry who organized the little engagement shindig for Laurie and I. Why is her nickname Cheeseburger? It's kind of a long story. Just accept it. She finally did.

Par-tay!

Last night Laurie and I celebrated our recent engagement with a few good friends at the Monkey. To say we were flattered that so many pals showed up to wish us well is an understatement. It meant more than I will ever be able to adequately express. Even Luke, Mandy and Levi made an appearance. Well, you couldn't really see Levi per se, but it was obvious he was there (ahh . . . I kid Mandy, I kid). The weather was perfect, too. It was a typical, balmy Illinois evening--like being in the Caribbean only without beaches, palm trees or packs of drunk newlyweds staggering back to their cruise ships.

A big thanks goes to Katie for putting it all together. Laurie and I are going to miss Mike and her a whole bunch when they move (get that guest room ready guys). Of course there wouldn't have been a thing to celebrate if the sexiest, smartest, most loving woman I've ever met hadn't said yes. I look forward to spending the rest of my life saying thank you for that, babe.

Links to a few more pics from the festivities:
"You can't see me dawg!"
Crouching Karen, Hidden Park
Cigars, Bourbon and Boobs (not what you think Patrick)
"Grrraaaaady. Look into my eyes and . . . SLEEEEP!!
"Fuggedaboudit"

New Avatar, Yo

Just a quick thank you to my main man Chicken for the sweet LD2600 avatar. I look good in pixels.

Missle Defense Shmissle Defense

For those who were naive enough to believe our withdrawl from the ABM Treaty had anything to do with Russia, there's this from FT.com.

Without elaborating too much, I don't think China really wants to destroy the U.S., but they do want to supplant us as the dominant power in the Pac-Rim. Besides, the funding for their military-industrial complex is entirely too reliant on Wal-Mart to blow us up.

Oh, great. Grady AND Nani are bugging me now. Gotta' go.

SpongeBob Spinach Pusher

As I was laying in bed listening to the news, as I'm wont to do shortly after waking, I heard that Nickelodeon and Viacom were planning on marketing SpongeBob spinach, ostensibly in an effort to get youngsters to eat more of the stuff. I have a better idea. Be a frickin' parent and tell your screaming brat they have a choice between eating their spinach or bedtime. Nine times out of ten spinach will not seem that bad. If it does, take solace in the fact that kids will eat anything once they're hungry enough and long before they starve to death. And if even that doesn't work call a priest and have little Damien exorcised.

What's really funny about this is whoever thought SpongeBob would make a great mascot for healthy eating has obviously never watched the show. SpongeBob's diet consists almost exclusively of Krabby Patties (an undersea version of the Whopper) and Goofy Goober's ice cream. At least that's the way it was in the movie.

I also had to laugh at this quote from Nickelodeon/Viacom VP of Consumer Products, Sherice Torres, "We're thrilled to be able to add to the fun of eating fruits and vegetables." It brought to mind a quote from the SpongeBob movie in which Mr. Krabs was much more forthright when asked why he was opening another Krusty Krab, "I like money."

Get the whole story here.

Like You Still Care

Forgive the belligerence, but one of the reasons I've put off blogging is that I really can't imagine anyone giving a rats patoot about anything I have to say. This is more a place for friends to keep tabs on me and how things are going in my corner of the world.

Yes, there will be ranting.

Yes, there will be cloying praise of my nieces and their yet-to-be-born brother.

And yes, there will be many stories, possibly to her dismay, involving my fiancee.

Speaking of which, she's instructed me not to stay up too late tonight. Actually "sweetly asked me" is probably more accurate. See, not even two posts in and already I'm in trouble.

Like You Care

Everybody I know has a blog so I decided to start one too, blah, blah, blah . . .

This first post is to simply make my danged blog show up on blogspot. Your program will start shortly.