Black & White Chronicles: Lou

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In talking about his art, Lou Reed said:

“You do this because you like it, you think what you’re making is beautiful. And, if you think it’s beautiful, maybe they think it’s beautiful.”

Lou Reed died today. He made beautiful music. Like this

lou

And, this. Oh, and this, too … which is magnificent:

“So, that’s the way, technically, it goes.”

Can I squeeze in some Lou Reed on baseball? Of course, I can. In 1995, he said:

 “[I]if there was probably a childhood trauma that I had other than the Dodgers leaving Brooklyn, which, if you think about it, is a reason why some of us are imbued with a cynicism that we never recovered from. Obviously you’re not a Mets fan, and you can’t possibly be a Yankees fan, so baseball’s eliminated from your life because of being born in Brooklyn.”

Interviewer: “You cared about the Dodgers as a kid?”

“Very much. I don’t know why. I don’t like baseball. Of course, maybe I don’t like baseball because the Dodgers aren’t here anymore.”

UPDATE: And, I hope you’ll take just one moment to click here for the warm and loving tribute from Lou’s wife, Laurie Anderson (a wonderful artist, too), that appeared in their local newspaper.

Turn Down The Volume

October 6, 2013

University of Virginia, October 6, 2013

“Turn down the volume on your day.”

That’s how I start most of my Yoga classes when I teach.

It’s pretty much impossible in our world to turn everything off completely – even for an hour. But, turning down the volume a little, well, that’s a start. If only for that one hour of Yoga.

Turning down the volume is the Yogic path of Pratyahara.

To be Fancy Pants about it, the deal of Pratyahara is this – withdraw the senses inward. Close your eyes and look inside. Close your ears and listen to your breath. Close your touch and just feel the air on your skin.

Just find the quiet inside.

Clearing out the clutter in your brain for a few minutes each day can be as rewarding as cleaning all that forgotten junk out of your garage. (Some of the gunk in your brain can be covered with dust, grease, and mouse nests, too.)

That’s why I love this photo I took.

Hanging out at the batting cage, little kid in the center up there, shows his Pratyahara.

Hey, if the crack of the bat gets too loud, just cover your ears.

The batter in the cage is probably swinging away in his “zone”, oblivious to the rest of us, which is simply his Yoga and Pratyahara without all the Sanskrit.

(And, you thought I would never post about Yoga again!)

Timeless.

Davenport Field, University of Virginia. October 6, 2013. photo: Jackie Howell

Davenport Field, University of Virginia. October 6, 2013. photo: Jackie Howell

“Time doesn’t seem to pass here: it just is.” ~ J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

Some things don’t change much over time.

Trees. Mountains. Crossword Puzzles. Whether 2013 or 1913. You can count on them to not change a whole lot.

(Happy 100th birthday crossword puzzles!)

Right fielders, as you can see, don’t change a whole lot either.

And, that’s just one reason why baseball can resonate so richly and deeply. It’s the same game you remember as a child. It’s pretty much the same game your father remembers. And, your great-grandfather. (And, great-grandmother, thank you very much.)

This photograph would have been a throwaway. Except I took it in black and white, because, I don’t know, I was just messing around.

And, Tony Butler, a University of Virginia freshman, became timeless.

Sunday, October 6, 2013. Davenport Field, University of Virginia. Intrasquad game.

Jamie the Yankees Fan.

Most animals find numbers and basic math uninteresting (Cat: “Who sent you here? Go away.”) or irrelevant (Dog: “I either had one treat or 50 treats out of the bag there on the floor, it’s hard to say for sure. I have to go barf on your shoes now.”)

But, not baseball fans. We love numbers and statistics. Wins, losses, batting averages are just a start. ERA.  RBI. WAR, WHIP, WPA.  Yeh, I know, it’s annoying.

Chris Davis’ batting average when wearing an orange jersey? .407 (through June anyway)

orange jersey

A Word Press editor recently suggested that bloggers check their page view numbers no more than once a week.

How can I twist my page views into obscure, meaningless statistics about my self-worth and popularity, if you won’t even let me look at them?

I check my statistics daily. Sometimes every couple hours. (I just checked them.) I don’t want to miss a single page view.

page view 2

Hey look, it’s you and me!

So, it didn’t get past me when my “Followers/Subscribers” number hit 999 earlier this week.

999

If you blog, you know how sketchy this number is.

Barry Bonds hit 762 home runs in his career. I have 999 followers.

(Here’s a stat: I have more followers than Barry Bonds has home runs.)

But, both numbers are juiced. Barry Bonds used steroids. I get followed mostly by spammers and a baffling number of non-English speakers. Welcome, “callgirlsdubai”!

But, still … a milestone IS a milestone, even if it is meaningless.

So, I put out the word to my friends – follow my blog and help me reach 1,000. And, almost immediately Jamie did.

I love Jamie. She is wonderful.

She is follower 1,000.

I decided then and there that I would write a blog post in her honor. Here we go.

Jamie has two dogs, two cats, and one husband.

And, here’s what she told me about baseball:

We have a big baseball conflict in our house. I’m a hardcore Yankees girl, and Jaremy lives, eats and breathes the Red Sox. Our compromise is the Nationals.

I have always said that 100 percent (look, more numbers!) of Nationals fans are default “fans”. They’re really fans of other teams, but since they’re near Washington, DC, oh hell, they might as well root for the Nats since they’ve got nothing better to do. Jamie has proven me 100 percent correct. (I told you, she is wonderful.)

Jamie

Yankees fans.

Red Sox Fan. Tigers fan.

Red Sox Fan. Tigers fan.

So to honor Jamie, I will write five nice things about her Yankees. (If you’ve come looking for my post on Yankees jokes … please click here.)

OK, sigh, here we go.*

Five nice things about the Yankees

1)

Public Domain

Babe Ruth. Public Domain Image

Babe Ruth.

He was born in Baltimore. Played briefly for an early incarnation of the Orioles … and bestowed one of the very best curses on the Red Sox that you’ll ever see. (Once the Curse of the Bambino ran out – and by god it had a good run – the Red Sox started winning, getting all uppity, and growing facial hair. Still, it’s not too late for the Babe to re-wallop them with another good Bambino-sized curse from the great beyond. Come on, it’ll be fun.)

2) Yogi Berra.

yogi berra

Yogi Berra. Public Domain Image

The Yankees catcher was the inspiration for Yogi Bear. And, who doesn’t love Yogi Bear?

Yogi_Bear_don't_feed_the_bears

1961, Courtesy of the National Archives ID #286013

I once had a cat named Yogi, who was named after Yogi Bear. He was a darn good cat.

Yogi. Cat.

Yogi. Cat.

3) If you follow the family tree, the New York Yankees were originally the Baltimore Orioles.

That New York stole the original Orioles from Baltimore (for a paltry $18,000 in 1903) is not surprising. In 2000, the Yankees stole pitcher Mike Mussina from the Orioles (he cost the Yanks $88.5 million).  (I’m still pretty upset about this.)

mike mussina

4) The Yankees have won 27 World Series titles. (The Orioles have won three.)

5) George Costanza used to work there.

I know I don’t really have 1,000 readers, but maybe I have a few. Quality over quantity is my motto. I’m glad you’re one of them.

* Please don’t think I’ve gone soft on the Yankees, people. Jeffrey Maier will never be forgotten.

I Got Nowhere To Be …

I guess my beloved Manny Machado tee-shirt had a little mojo left in it afterall.

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If your baseball season has to end before October – and for 19 teams the season ended Sunday – then the best you can do is hope to win your last game.

7-6 … Orioles over Red Sox.

It’s always nice to beat the Boston Red Sox on the last day of the season.

Sometimes that single win can change everything, like in 2011.  This year, it didn’t mean as much, except that the Good Guys won and Jim Johnson got the save and notched his second consecutive 50-save season.

(Not exactly pretty, but watch the recap as the O’s come from down 5-0 to win, here.)

Quick, flip the channel!

7-6 … Giants over Padres.

Another exciting comeback … a walk-off win! Apparently the Manny Machado tee-shirt is also soft on the Giants.

(Recap, here.)

Yay!!

But, now, I got nowhere to be until next season.

Have you ever been invited to a party that you didn’t want to go to? You don’t really know the people, they seem a little strange … you’re not going to know anyone there … they live in a weird part of town … they’re not as much fun as your friends … and all you really want to do is stay home and watch TV?

But, you go anyway, because … because …

Because oh, I don’t know, maybe there will be snacks?

Hello, post-season.

I’ve been looking for a post-season team to follow. Just a temporary, meaningless fling. Someone to pass the time with for the next few weeks. I asked for suggestions.

I have a lot of Red Sox friends. I thought they might put in a good word for their fuzzy-faced team. But, silence.

Over waffles Sunday morning, one baseball observer (who asked to remain anonymous because he has friends who love the Red Sox) said, “There’s no conceivable way I could root for the Red Sox in the post season, unless somehow North Korea managed to field a team. Actually, though, North Korea’s never really done anything to me, so I don’t know.”

(This riveting “Has North Korea really ever done anything to me?” conversation continued until it was interrupted when he went to chase the cow out of the yard.)

But, just when I thought no one wanted this lonely Oriole fan’s support, I got a couple posts from Oakland A’s fans.

OK, that’s possible. Just going from the O’s to the A’s is simple vowel-hopping.

I’ve actually been to Oakland Coliseum, though many years ago (pre-sewage).

In August, I took photos of A’s outfielder Coco Crisp before a game at Camden Yards.

A's Outfielder Coco Crisp.

A’s Outfielder Coco Crisp on the left.

(In my Yoga classes, we call this Giraffe Pose.)

I have this tee-shirt.

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Alright, I’ll wear it. (But, I’m still gonna wear my Orioles cap.)

Let’s do this.

Go A’s.

Whoo.

(Dear Orioles, please rest up. Dear Chris Davis and Manny Machado, please rest your injured parts. We have a World Series to win next year. Thank you for a great season! Amen.)

Just 183 days until Opening Day.

Octoberitis

jjhardy

Amazing Orioles’ Shortstop J.J. Hardy.

On Tuesday, the Baltimore Orioles lost and were eliminated from the playoffs. Their season ends Sunday. Time for huntin’, fishin’, or whatever it is that these fellas do when they’re not swinging at bad pitches. (See, Orioles’ Pitchers … it’s not always your fault.)

After last season, I discovered that baseball in October is more fun than I ever could have imagined.

october baseball

October in Baltimore (2012 edition).

It’s amazing.

Sigh.

But, instead, the Orioles are done. (Although Manny Machado is going to be ok. Hakuna Machado!)

So, here’s how I spent my first day out of the playoffs.

1) One of my cats pooped. On the kitchen counter. I came home and there it was. Poop. On the kitchen counter. I spent my first day of meaningless baseball super-bleach-sanitizing the kitchen. I may just have to burn it down. (I can forgive certain cat things. She’s old and sort of frail. But, the boxes were clean. This is a felony.)

smokeyjo

Smokey Jo. Felon.

2) At my Yoga studio, I have beautiful windows overlooking a courtyard that is used by the nearby restaurant. It lets in lovely light. As I was teaching yesterday, my students were practicing and I look up to see a guy – all tattoos, beers, and facial hair – coming up to my window, making eye contact with me, and then vomiting. Profusely. All over. It seemed to last forever. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. I worried he might try to come into the class and vomit some more. He heaved up about a gallon of his insides, wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and staggered away. I’m still traumatized.

3) I broke the space bar on my laptop. Doyouknowhowimportantspacesbetweenwordsare? Veryveryimportant.

And, here’s what I learned.

1) Cats really don’t care about you.

2) You can become hypnotized watching someone vomit.

3) Ineedaspacebar!!!!!!

I love my Orioles. I’m proud of all they did this season. I’m proud of the homeruns. The amazing defense. The pitchers. I’m proud of each and every Oriole. (I may tease ’em, sure, but I love ’em.)

And, I’m soaking in these last few games. They may be playoff meaningless, but they’re never meaningless to me. They won last night! They had a winning season!

But, this October is going to be awful – just endless poop and vomit – if I don’t find a backup team soon.

So, there you go.

In a comment on one of my earlier posts, Don Of All Trades put in his pitch for me to root for the St. Louis Cardinals.

don

So, just by virtue of his promptness (and flattery), the Cardinals are off to a quick start.

The Oakland A’s could be ok … after all, to go from O’s to A’s is just gentle vowel shifting. It could be quite easy for me.

But, the door is wide open.

Is your team still in it? Add a comment. Give me your best pitch.

Since only you and three other people actually read this thing, chances are good I’ll go with your team if you take the time to ask me. Think of it as a baseball date. Sure, we’ll break up in November, but we could have some fun in October, right?

Andthisspacebarismakingmecrazy.

My Elbow. Manny Machado’s Knee.

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Manny Machado. August 20, 2013 vs. the Oakland A’s. Photo Credit: me!

Two years ago I tore up the tendons in my left elbow. Giving too many massages, going a little too deep, doing a little too much. (Trust me, massage may be peaceful on the outside, but it’s brutal on the inside.)

Each time I did a massage, my arm ached. The discomfort was one thing, but the emotional toll was, in many ways, much worse. What if I am doing permanent damage? What if I can’t do massage anymore? What if it hurts forever?

When a doctor diagnosed it as “pitcher’s elbow” I thought, well, that’s pretty cool – if I’m going to have a stupid injury it might as well be a baseball one.

It took more than a year, but today that elbow is nearly good as new (thanks mostly to Yoga, laser therapy, and patience). Nearly. But, now the right elbow is torn up … same thing, different arm.

So the cycle begins again.

Which brings me to my broken heart.

As the post-season hopes for the Baltimore Orioles grew dimmer and dimmer this weekend, their third-baseman Manny Machado was badly injured on Monday in a freakish knee twist that came as he was running to first base. His season is over.

He looked stricken far beyond the physical pain. (I think he started to cry.) And, I wonder if the physical pain was as bad as the emotional pain? What about next season? How bad is it? How long will it take? What if it doesn’t get better? To go from Superstar to disabled list on a stupid, routine play.

I’ve been an Orioles fan for nearly 30 years. And, in all that time, I have only one Orioles shirt with a number on it, with a name. I never even got a Cal Ripken jersey (although I’d be proud to wear one). I celebrate the team. I don’t like getting bogged down in picking a favorite player.

(Players can let you down. I’m looking at you, Rafael Palmeiro.)

Until last year, when I got this …

 mannytee

Manny Machado – the barely 21-year-old poster child for the Orioles’ exciting and bright future — made me break my rule.

Because he hits doubles like crazy. And, does amazing things like this

machado4

And, this

Manny2 9 12 12

Nowadays, when my elbow feels good, everything is good. But, when my elbow feels bad, which is still a lot of the time, I get frustrated. I worry about the quality of the massage I am giving. I worry about the long-term damage I might be causing.

I love what I do. What will I do, if I can’t do this?

My office is in a small rural community. I keep my massage prices low so people can afford me. So I see a lot of clients from all walks – many dealing with chronic pain from repetitive stress and work-related damage. Pain much worse than my crabby elbow tendons.

Construction workers, butchers, ranchers and farmers, plumbers, nurses, truck drivers, carpenters, mail carriers, police officers, piece workers.

All I can hope to do is try to take the edge off for them, to work out the sticky places, loosen things up, and maybe give them some brief relief.

One client, who deals with daily pain from her job, said to me recently, “There’s no other jobs out there. I can’t afford to lose this one.” She worries every night that she won’t be able to “hold together” enough to work.

I suppose Manny thought some of those same sorts of things. From invincible to injured in a blink.

Sometimes it doesn’t matter whether you make a million dollars or just scrape by. Injury is the great equalizer.

It can take away your job and your paycheck. It can take away something you love. Just like that.

But, there’s some good news.

Manny’s MRI showed a tear to a ligament that helps stabilize and protect the kneecap. A painful injury, but one that generally heals on its own after six to eight weeks of rest and rehab. It could have been much worse.

I’m not 21 anymore. Healing is much better, much faster, when you’re 21, like Manny.

And, Manny has access to resources that many of us don’t. He has a team of doctors and therapists who will help him recover. (Hopefully, he has an awesome massage therapist. And, yoga therapist. And, if not … well, I hope the Orioles finally look me up.)

So, no worries, Manny … my heart is broken for you today. But, I know you’ll heal. You have to. Baseball’s no fun without you.

And, for those of us who hurt a little – or a lot – doing what we love, we want you to get better. We need you to get better. So you can inspire us to heal, too.

Sea Monkeys, Math, & Football

Come September, you start to see a lot of “baseball is better than football” essays. Baseball fans have been compiling these lists for years.

None, of course, is better than George Carlin’s “baseball vs. football”.

And, so I share it with you here.

Sadly, in a moment of weakness, I started to compile my own list.

It was stupid. And, so I stopped.

If you love baseball, then you already know why it will always be far superior to football.

In the same way that cats and dogs are far superior to Sea Monkeys. Which is to say VERY, VERY Super Superior.

steviesept

Stevie: Purrfect

sea monkeys

Sea Monkeys: Bitter Disappointment

If you’re still wavering, I don’t know what I can say to convince you. Maybe you watch football the same way many NASCAR fans watch auto racing — just waiting to see someone get smooshed, flattened, tackled, or sacked.

Baseball avoids carnage and bloodshed whenever possible. When it does happen, no one cheers. This, bottom line, is why it will always be superior to football in my book.

Hey, I know football. I was a San Francisco 49ers fan for many, many years. But, I boycott it now, because it is increasingly grisly, unnecessarily violent, and has destroyed the quality of life for many former athletes (from NFL-level players to the unfortunate high school and college players who are reminded about rough hits when the arthritis starts to set in around age 30).  I yammered on about my boycott last season here.

Oh, sure you can Google “football is better than baseball” and some links will come up.

I found a list of 25 reasons – shared by CBS Sports. Why is football better than baseball? I kid you not, this was reason three.

#3. Football statistics are simple and involve little mathematics to compute.

If the lack of math is really the thing that makes football superior, I’m still marveling that this guy was able to coherently count to 25 for his list.

OK, let’s try a little football math:

2 Touchdowns + 1 Touchdown – 1 Missed Point After + 2 Field Goals + 1 Safety = How Many Points? *

OK, how about this:

1 3-Run Homer = How Many Runs? **

Oh, goodie, there’s more.

#17. Coaches spend more time coaching in football. Baseball managers only manage.

This doesn’t even make sense. It’s gibberish.

#23. Football rivalries are bitter and plentiful.

You’re joking, right?

Dodgers vs. Giants? Yankees vs. Red Sox?

Yankees vs. everyone else?

Baseball teams play 162 games a season – even more if you make it to the playoffs and World Series. 162 games is a lot of games and a lot of time to brew some historic rivalries.

Heck, baseball rivalries are so hot, even the managers get in fights – as the Orioles’ Buck Showalter and Yankees’ Joe Girardi proved just a few nights ago. Click here. (Go Buck!)

If you’re a football team and you’re playing another team just once a season, if that, I’m not sure how a lasting rivalry can even start. “Hi, you must be the Jacksonville Jaguars. I guess we’re playing you today. Gosh, I didn’t even know there was a team here. What state is this?”

His number one reason why football is better?

#1. Football is the ultimate team sport. All 11 players are involved on every play.

Does he even realize that an entirely DIFFERENT football team plays offense than the one that plays defense? Add in special teams – and it’s a THREE-TEAM “team sport”. As I’m sure you know, a baseball player is expected to play both offense and defense (except for those pitcher/DH guys in the American League.)

What to take away from this thoughtful list?

When dining out with football fans, be a pal and offer to calculate the tip for them. It will save them from math-phobic paralysis.

Now, back to baseball.

Here’s one George Carlin missed.

Baseball is better than football, because in baseball you, the fan, can catch a ball. If you catch it, you get to keep it.

You can even bring your glove to help you out.

If you make a clean catch, the fans around you will cheer.

It happens at every game in every ballpark every night.

And, on Tuesday night, a grandmother celebrated her birthday at the Giants’ game. Took her glove. And, snagged a souvenir.

And, then she danced.

gramma+foul2

Watch it, here.

And that is why baseball will always be better than football.

Oh, and this. (Hi, Manny!)

machado4

* 28

** 3

Free Baseball: “How Did Everything Go So Bad, So Fast?” Edition

Free Baseball refers to extra innings in a game.

You know the ones.Your team has a cozy, comfortable lead going into the late innings, and then the bullpen comes out, but things somehow start to go badly, the pitchers go sour and give up runs, lots of runs, homeruns, all sorts of runs, and the comfortable lead vanishes and suddenly the game is tied, and so the game continues for a few more innings, but your bats are cold, no one can hit, and you run out of relievers, and then you give up the game-winning run to the other team, and then the game is over, and you lost.  Then you go out and do the very same thing the next day.

Just hypothetical, of course.  Unless you’re a Baltimore Orioles fan, in which case, this is suddenly reality.

Sigh.

So, for your extra innings today … a few things to help settle the bullpen down, and to kill some time because it hurts just a little too much to talk about baseball today.

10th INNING ~ Get Smarter

Maybe our bullpen pitchers need to sharpen up the old coconuts. Get a little smarter, sharper, quicker.

A friend of mine recently turned me on to Lumosity.com, which offers you a few minutes of games and puzzles each day as a means to keep your mind sharp and your brain supple. My friend is pretty smart, so I thought I would give it a go. I’ve been at it for a month or so. I still don’t understand physics, but maybe I am a bit quicker at finding my car keys in the morning. So, progress.

lumosity

There’s a free version and a subscription version, which offers a few extra games each day. Try it out and let me know how you do feeding all those bloody confusing fish in that stupid koi pond.

11th INNING ~ Get Peaceful

Science has shown that meditation can soothe the mind and quiet the brain. Maybe it’s time to get your OM on. I heard a story this morning that reported on how meditation can help repair damage to the brain in soldiers suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). You can find it here.

But, everyone can benefit from a bit of stillness. And, even if you’ve only got a minute … good enough. Try a one-minute meditation, here.

Maybe the bullpen pitchers can try a bit of quiet reflection, rather than flirting with the girls nearby, or throwing sunflower seeds at each other.

12th INNING ~ Get Bears!

So, if your team just got swept, your batters and your bullpen let you down (and no, my blog post about bullpens this week did not jinx them … it couldn’t of, could it?), then the only thing left are bear cubs.

The Wildlife Center of Virginia has 16 of them … and they’re all on the Critter Cam. You really do need to watch them. You’ll forget all about how your favorite team let you down this week.  Watch here (try Cam 1 … that’s where they’re usually hanging out.)

bears

photo courtesy of the Wildlife Center of Virginia

Oh God, they’re so cute.

Enjoy this free baseball … the Orioles’ amazing comeback begins tomorrow!

I was wrong. I’m sorry.

Last month, I wrote about potato chips.

I was actually writing about baseball’s All-Star Game and fan voting. (Click here to review.)

But, really, all you cared about was the potato chips.

That’s ok. Blog posts are funny that way.

So, to recap: America voted for their favorite potato chip flavor. The choices were:

  • Cheesy Garlic Bread
  • Sriracha
  • Chicken & Waffles

When Cheesy Garlic Bread won, I complained that Americans had voted for bread as an appropriate potato chip flavor. As far as I was concerned, this ridiculous choice meant that Americans shouldn’t be allowed to vote for anything.

(You all should have voted the Orioles’ Nick Markakis into the All Star Game, too. You should be ashamed baseball voters.)

Nicks glove

Here’s Nick’s Glove.

homerun robber

Here’s comes the baseball.

nick here it is

There goes the homerun. Sorry, Texas.

Watch it here.

But, here’s the thing. I learned about the contest after it was over. I never saw the flavors in my store. I never tried them. I merely decided, based on common sense, that bread was a horrible flavor choice.

Many of you commented on the post, and no one had seen or tasted any of the flavors.

Today, all three flavors magically appeared along a wall in my grocery store.

chipsinstore

They weren’t there last month. They weren’t there last week. (My Husband/Editor would like to point out that last month and last week are the same thing. But, you get my point.)

I gasped. Maybe I yelped. I might have been a bit too loud. I don’t remember. I was overcome with emotion.

They were on sale too. So, on that alone, let’s go with yelp.

Finally, America, I could taste for myself.

But, before I do, let me say this.

I don’t ask for much from professional athletes. Show up on time. Don’t cheat. Do your best. And, be nice to the fans. If you’re a funny or witty interview, so much the better; I’ll let a few bad games slide. If you rescue shelter animals, help out in your community, and support local charities … hey, you had me at “rescue shelter animals.”

Oh, and don’t lie.

And, if and when you get caught lying or cheating, here’s what you do. It’s pretty easy.

Say “I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

And, let the healing begin.

So, I write this post today for the potato chip fans of the world and for Alex Rodriguez, the beleaguered New York Yankee who awaits the decision of Major League Baseball – will he be suspended or banned for life from the game he loves because he cheated by taking performance enhancing drugs and lied about it?

I was planning to write a long (boring blah-blah-blah long) post about how I’m starting to feel sorry for the guy, because many sportswriters and bloggers and such seem to be bullying him a bit, piling on, and reveling in his misfortune. We seem awfully quick to end his career, while letting other cheaters slide with, perhaps, lesser suspensions and the glimmer of redemption.

Cheaters need to be suspended and baseball needs to clean up its game. But, let’s not be bullies.

But, then the potato chips came along.

StevieChips

Magnificent!

I’ll taste them. Discover that I was wrong, that Cheesy Garlic Bread is not only an acceptable flavor, but an absolutely mind-blowingly delicious one.

Americans were right after all!

And, I would admit it. I would say, “I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

Alex Rodriguez has said many times (most recently in this week’s Sports Illustrated) that he wants to be a role model.

So, here I would be, right here on this blog, standing as a proud and honest role model for A-Rod.

What if he sees this, is moved by my emotion and honesty? What if he finally says, “I was wrong. I’m sorry.” How cool would that be?

But, then, I tasted.

And, you know what?

Cheesy Garlic Bread potato chips?

Suck.

They kind of, sort of taste like garlic bread, in the same way that freeze dried ice cream, kind of, sort of, tastes like ice cream.

So I was right all along. Potato chips should not taste like bread.

Sriracha? Doesn’t really taste anything like Sriracha. More like a barbeque potato chip with a garlic kick and a sassy chili zing. But, not bad. So, I was right about that, too.

(You’re on your own with the Chicken & Waffles chips. They actually have real chicken in their flavoring. There’s not much real in a flavored potato chip, so I’m as surprised as you by this. I’m a vegetarian … so, chicken in my potato chips? No way.)

Unfortunately, America, I was right.

Which is incredibly vindicating. But, not so good for the point I wanted to make today.

But, while I was right about this, I have been wrong about other things.

I once said that Bobby Bonds was in the Hall of Fame. He’s not. I was wrong. I’m sorry.

I once told a telemarketer who called me at home that I was the housekeeper and couldn’t take their call. I was wrong. I’m sorry.

I once tried to slip the word ausperous past an online scrabble game. I was wrong. I’m sorry.

I made up that last example. I was wrong. I’m sorry.

See, it’s easy.

I hope that Alex Rodriguez figures that out.

Because, how can I forgive you, if you won’t apologize?