Five Hours Earlier …

This will be quick, but I’m annoyed by this ongoing phase in today’s  television.

It’s a trend on American TV that is driving me absolutely insane.  The latest was visible in Monday night’s episode of NBC’s “State of Affairs” that stars Katherine Heigl.  Viewers see the action, a terrorist operative blows herself and some building up.  Then we get the onscreen line, “FIVE  HOURS EARLIER.”  oh puleeze!

“Criminal Minds’ has been doing this a lot, too, recently, and they aren’t alone.  It seems like the powers that be all seem to think that to be dramatic a show an episode should have a teaser and then go back in time to tell the story.

Just tell the dang story and leave the punch to the end like it’s supposed to be.  It’s time for this phase to end.  It’s lost its charm

Alfie Boe’s Fleetwood, The Good and the Not-So-Good

From the moment I became Boe’d (a term created by fans to reference their admiration for British singer Alfie Boe), I knew that should some miracle happen and I ever traveled to England, I would absolutely have to take a trek to Fleetwood, the small fishing town in Lancashire where Alfie was raised.  The youngest of nine, Alfie still returns to his hometown regularly as his mother and a slew of family still live there and in surrounding areas.  Well, a miracle happened, thanks to two very kind women, and recently I did get to the UK for Alfie’s Arena Tour.  It was wonderful.

My lovely friend, Annie, another Alfie fan who chauffeured me all over the countryside as we traveled venue to venue, knew of my desire to visit Fleetwood.  She’d been there before herself and, thanks to another friend who served as our guide, so to speak, we ventured forth to the seaside town at our first opportunity.

We joked that there really should be an Alfie tour for fans (the little town might be surprised how many fans really do pop in just to take a look at some of the Alfie sites).  There were several obvious choices, including the Marine Hall and the catholic high school where Alfie had so much, cough, fun where we dropped by for a bit.  It was a hoot to stand on Alfie’s stage at the Marine Hall, for example, though I’m not sure they’d call it Alfie’s stage, but we all know that’s what it is! <G>

One of the other places we went was to the Fleetwood Beach Kiosk, a little stand off the beach run by Craig.  Among other things, he sells rock candy, delicious ice cream, and Fisherman’s Friend lozenges.  Alfie knows Craig, of course, and they’ve exchanged messages on Twitter, so we couldn’t help but bring it up when we were there.  We took pictures and Craig gave me some rock candy for Alfie and his kids.

The next concert was in Glasgow and at the meet and greet, I followed through and gave Alfie the rock candy.  He got a big smile on his face as he took possession of the treats.  Then he deduced, “So you’ve been to Fleetwood.”

Gulp.  A big smile on my face and, as I touched his arm, “Yes.  We did the Alfie pilgrimage.”  Fortunately, Alfie didn’t ask what all made up the pilgrimage.  Always observant, though, he noticed a shopping bag in my possession and noted, “You went to Blackpool, too.”  A laugh from me and a short, “Yes,” for the response.

It was fun chatting briefly with Alfie about his beloved  hometown.  I told him about our visit with Craig.  Craig really was so nice.  We took pictures and had a great time visiting with him.  He’s a happy representative of Fleetwood.

Those Fisherman’s Friend cough lozenges are amazing, by the way.  I’ve seen Alfie tweeting with the company, and I’ve even had a response or two from them.  I should have bought a package at Craig’s stand and regret not doing so, but Annie did.  They came in handy toward the end of the tour when my voice was playing games with me.   They warm your throat.  The thing is I’ve sworn off cough medications in recent years.  So many studies indicate it’s pointless, that they don’t really do anything, and from my own personal experience, I agreed with those findings.  So, a few years back, I decided to save my money and let nature take its course.

What really made me a believer was when I arrived home in America.  I developed a nasty cold that was mainly a nasty cough.  Annie had given me the rest of the lozenges (she really just wanted the tin it came in) and I started taking them as instructed.  Lo and behold, they truly have eased the irritation in my throat and reduced my coughing fits.  I’ve been amazed.  Alfie says he takes these all the time, often before a show.  That’s what began my curiosity with the product, but with my own experience, I’m now a big fan of Fisherman’s Friend.  It took a long time, but I finally got my free sample last week from the US division.  I prefer the UK side of the business, though, since they are more communicative.  Maybe they can tell me how to order a package, or maybe I can somehow buy a package from Craig (want one of those tins myself as a reminder of my visit).  All I can say is that the product is the first of its kind to actually work for me in years and years, so I’m a believer.  Fellas, keep Alfie well stocked!

The only place or connection to Alfie that I was disappointed in was the North Euston Hotel.  Craig’s Fleetwood Beach Kiosk is right across the street from the hotel, by the way.  Alfie has eaten at the hotel a lot and there have been quite a few tweets done.  We actually met the man who often has his picture taken with Alfie when he goes there.  He appeared to be very nice.  Maybe we scared him off, but after saying he’d be back to take our order, he just disappeared.  We never saw him again.  Worse, no one was asking for our order.  We waited a very long time before finally approaching another staff member who ultimately took our order.  Unfortunately, it was a bit of a nightmare.  The service was horrible.  Our orders were mostly wrong and/or incomplete and it was difficult to get anyone’s attention.  When we first sat down, the place was packed.  It dwindled down to just us and one or two other tables, but the service never improved.

It’s odd what you remember, too, but one of the female workers was a plodder.  By that I mean that when she walked it was like a stomp, and I can still hear her, plodding heavily as she walked all over the room.  She seemed frustrated with the kitchen.  Maybe they were having issues with their cooks.  I don’t know, but what I do know is that I experienced nothing positive about the North Euston Hotel.  My hunch, though, is that if I were Alfie, service would have been a hundred times better.  Sadly, with our disappearing waiter, essentially no service from any staff member, and incorrect food orders, I would never recommend this hotel.  We even had to go in search of our check at the end.  It was as if they didn’t care we were there.

Fortunately, the rest of Fleetwood was awesome.  We had a lovely afternoon visiting key places (or just spots where we knew he’d been) in the Alfie experience.  For example, Strawberry Gardens.  We met the owners and had a wonderful chat with them.  Alfie’s been there and had his picture taken with Syd, one of the owners.  We suggested they should hang that picture on the wall which they thought was a good idea so maybe they will one of these days patrons will see a picture of Alfie on the wall.

For me, though, it was very important to spend some time just taking in one special part of Fleetwood.  Part of that was Alfie’s beach.  Okay, he doesn’t own the beach, but that’s how I think of it.  He’s talked a lot about that beach and being a young boy, looking out at the land in the distance, and wanting to go there.  Oops, he thought that land was America.  Er, not quite, Alfie, but it was the idea that mattered.  It was a bit overcast, so it was hard to see Alfie’s youthful idea of America, but it was out there.

I stood and looked out over that beach for a bit and then I took the short walk from the beach to Alfie’s house, or rather, his mum’s house.  That was something, just to be there, to look at it and know that is where his parents and older siblings raised this young man to be the delightful person he is today.  I have much respect for Patricia Boe.  It wasn’t easy for her to have children, let alone nine of them, but with her husband, Alfred, at her side, nine awesome Boes grew up to have awesome families of their own.  What a legacy Alfred and Pat created!

Because of the impact Alfie has had on my life, it was truly special to take in that part of Fleetwood, to visit the church that meant so much to him, where he asked God to give his ailing father peace at last, to see the family home, to look out over the thoughtful sea, and just to walk the streets, imagining the youthful Alfie as he learned who he wanted to be as an adult.  In ways, it really was a pilgrimage.

I truly wish we’d had more time to explore and get to know the little town where Alfie is a proud codhead, but for the short time we were there, it was very special.  It was so nice to see some of the places Alfie has talked about or mentioned in his memoir, “My Story,” which I highly recommend.  There were lots of friendly faces to make the short visit a delight.  Special thanks to Craig for being so nice and so much fun.

And, of course, always thanks to Alfie for being such a kind and understanding man.  I could have walked the streets of Fleetwood for hours and just relished the time of being in this precious town that helped to shape the Alfie we all know and love today.

Alfie Boe to Followers: Turn Off Your Phones

Taking a break from my observations and reviews from my UK trip to talk a bit about cell phones in today’s culture.  Today, Alfie Boe tweeted:

Who’s with me on this? Switch your phones off for Christmas Eve and Day if you can. So from all the Boe’s, a Very Merry Christmas. Xxx

The Twitter responses are generally supportive, but it all makes me wonder about our techno-filled world of today and how much we take others for granted.  Do people realize how plain rude they are now when out and about and they get a call on their phones?

A few years back, Dr. Phil did an intervention of sorts of a young woman who was constantly on her cell phone, even when she was with friends.  The friends felt unappreciated.  Mid-conversation, this young woman would interrupt their chat to answer her phone and proceed to have a conversation with the caller.  It apparently went on and on.

I see it all the time.  Go to a restaurant and look around.  Families and friends are all there, with smart phones in front of them, some people texting, some talking to others, and some just reading whatever it is they are looking at on the phone.  How much conversation, though, is going on among the people actually present at the tables?  Not a whole lot.

Whatever happened to politeness?  Whatever happened to enjoying the moment of being with friends?  What call can’t wait until later?  There are few real emergencies that require the presence of a mobile phone.  Remember, these devices are still relatively new to culture.  For decades upon decades, communication survived via landline calls, letters, and plain old fashioned word of mouth.  This instant need-to-be-in-contact addition is devastating to society in my opinion.

I see people walking with their phones attached to their ears.  They’re barely focused on where they are walking.  Remember the lady who walked straight into a pond while talking on her phone?  I won’t even get into the driving aspect.  Lives have ended because of the perceived need to talk now instead of waiting until later.  It’s ridiculous.  It’s a life-changer.

Over the last few years, I’ve listened to a lot of Alfie Boe interviews.  When it comes to vacation time and holidays, he frequently responds that all he wants to do is put on his slippers and turn off the phone.  He seems to do it, too, and so I applaud that from afar.  His tweets lessen substantially when he first returns home to his family after a separation, too.  He has far better things to do at those times than tire out his thumbs with tweets.  He’d rather enjoy being with his wife, children, and critters than communicating over some technological device that is required by his profession but not necessarily desired by the man himself.

Many years ago now, I worked for an insurance company.  I remember the day we got our first FAX machine.  Wow, was it the ‘it’ thing of the day.  It was stressed that the FAX was to be used only for special circumstances, for urgent responses and definitely never more than ten pages could be sent.  I believe that lasted about a week.  Seriously, in no time at all, the FAX became the standard means of communicating with agencies and customers.  There was never a limit on pages.  The FAX was the quickest way of disseminating and receiving information.  Forget the phone: use the FAX!

That’s what has happened with the mobile phone, especially now that it has gone from a bulky box size to a slim fits-in-your-pocket device with games, the Internet, and our favorite music on it.  Alfie uses his phone as much as anyone, I suspect, especially since he’s separated from his family so much of the time due to his career.  I’ve seen him check a call before being interviewed by a BBC presenter and once I saw him answer it mid-song during rehearsal, which was a real hoot.  He literally sang a line, answered the phone, sang the next line, and responded to the caller.  The band never missed a beat and he managed to finish the song and the conversation without much interference.  I suspect it was his wife on the phone, but I don’t really know.  It was just fun to watch.

I truly only use my phone for emergencies, but then, I’m on my own.  I don’t have others depending on me or who really need my attention at a given moment.  In that sense, I am an oddity to the world today, one where family and friends interact regularly on some type of cell phone.  Maybe if my life had been different, even financially as the mobile phone craze surged, I might be more a part of it, but that wasn’t the case.

We don’t live in a Donna Reed world anymore, not that we ever really did, but still, I truly do take note of how little attention people pay to one another anymore versus their attachment to technology.  As the saying goes, stop and smell the roses.  If it’s important, they’ll call back.  Enjoy the person you’re with.  Who knows, maybe tomorrow they won’t be there.

Case in point.  Much of my time over the last few months was spent at Sam’s Club, walking the warehouse as I try to get healthier.  As a result, I’ve spent a lot of time chatting with the tasters and tips people, the ones that hand out free samples.  There was one man, Ken, who I talked to quite a bit.  He loved country music.  He had one of those long black coats like Johnny Cash, who was his hero.  Ken was quiet much of the time, but I learned about his love for his mother as well as his music dreams.  He played the drums and the guitar.  Ken would always say to me, “I’m going to be very hurt if you don’t take at least three of these,” whatever the food sample was that he was dispensing that day.  He knew I was low income and using Sam’s for lunches much of the time and that was his way of encouraging me and helping me out.  On Thanksgiving Day this year, I departed on my dream trip of a lifetime, 2 1/2 weeks in the UK to see Alfie Boe sing.  When I came home and went back to Sam’s Club to say hello to my ‘friends’ there, I learned that Ken was dead.  He’d been hit by a car while walking on Thanksgiving, about the same time I was en route to England.  Who could have seen that coming?  He’d been encouraging about my goals and my trip to see Alfie, and now I don’t have the chance to tell him about it, not about the wonderful music or how sweet Alfie was, as usual.  The point is that you never know what the next day, or the next second, brings, so doesn’t it make sense to enjoy the moment, to truly appreciate the person/people you are with without having to tune out every two minutes to answer a call, check Twitter, or check on the latest news headline?  The phone can wait, friendships cannot.

So when Alfie tweeted his message today, I couldn’t help but issue this rant against the rudeness I witness almost every day now and this rave about his stance on the subject.  On this, Alfie and I seem to agree.

Now, if I could only get him to tweet me!  <g>

Never Take Your Bed for Granted!

In our homes, our beds are often fit to our personal needs.  These days, there are sleep numbers and all types of gadgets to ensure that our sleep is earned on a mattress that makes us the most comfortable.  When traveling, a bed doesn’t always get much thought.  Certainly, I’ve never worried about it.  I never had to; at least, not in the United States of America.  Then I went to the United Kingdom.

My near-three week jaunt was to see the delightful Alfie Boe, heralded star of the Les Miserables 25th Anniversary Concert in 2010 and soon to be acclaimed lead in The Who’s renewed rock opera Quadrophenia when it premiers in the UK in 2015.  Alfie sang his heart out, including his signature piece of “Bring Him Home” and two of The Who songs from the aforementioned production called “I’m One” and “Love Reign O’er Me” (Alfie calls them “I Am One” and “Love Reign On Me”).

When it came time to sleep after the concerts, though, it was sometimes a challenging experience.  While America has expanded the mattress size so that they are anywhere between eight and fifteen inches a piece, many UK hotels and motels still have very small mattresses.  I couldn’t measure them, but trust me, we’re talking small.  For someone in my position with extremely weak knees, this presents great difficulty.  There’s no power to the get-up.

The funniest beds to me, though, were at two different Premier Inns.  They were on wheels and every time I laid down, they rolled.  It was like being on sea!  I’m not a fan of this hotel anyway.  They are way down on my list; I would avoid them like I would the plague (thanks to a heater that never worked and a plumbing issue, our night’s stay at one of these places was refunded so that was the good news).  I much preferred Travelodges.  For the price, they were pretty nice and they had nice, thick mattresses.  They didn’t have phones, though.  Actually, most hotels didn’t have phones.  Maybe it’s like that in America, too.  I don’t know because I normally stay at higher class places than I did on this trip to the UK, but a phone seems so basic to me.  I just can’t imagine not having a working phone in my room.  One place had a phone, but you had to order an outside line if you wanted to use it.  Another had phones, but they only worked to the front desk.  It all felt very odd to me.

Ultimately, the beds, big, small, rolling or in place, and phones, present or not, didn’t matter while in the UK.  All that did was seeing Alfie put all of his being into a near 2-hour performance on a regular basis.  With that fresh in my mind, I could have slept on air!  Still, I’ll never take my bed, lopsided as it is, for granted again. :}

Ice! You Know, Frozen Water, Little Cubes, Makes Drinks Cool: I-C-E!

There were so many memorable parts of my trip to the UK.  Of course, at the top of the list was the very wonderful Alfie Boe whose luscious voice resonates within me each and every day.  Alfie delighted concert goers with a delightful range of music genres that featured songs such as the operatic Nessun Dorma and the rockin’ Glory Glory Hallelujah!  The British tenor is the hero of my existence these days.  However, not even Alfie could solve a simple problem for me: ice!

Who knew that something so basic in the United States could be so foreign in the United Kingdom.  I was totally floored by the UK’s prejudice against this simple, low-cost, beverage temperature controlling device.  It’s ice!  Ice, for crying out loud.

In America, ice is common place.  It’s a given most of the time.  You ask for a soft drink, you get it … with ice.  It’s cold or at the very least, chilled.  Chilled as in noticeably cool to the touch and the taste buds.  I would have thought that was universal in other modern worlds.  Boy was I wrong.

My previously taken-for-granted ice is essentially ignored in the UK, snubbed even.  The first time I received a drink without ice, I was stunned.  Naturally, I immediately asked for ice.  I got it, all three cubes.  Uh, no, I said I’d like ice … a glass of ice, please.  Oh geez.  Two more cubes.  No, I want ice … A GLASS OF ICE, PLEASE.  Gee whiz!  What’s the problem here?

Seriously, it got to where I had to state it about three times, very definitively: I want ice, lots of ice.  I’m from America. We like ice.  Fill the glass.  Fill the *entire* glass with ice.  Sigh — five little cubes.  No, really, FILL THE ENTIRE GLASS WITH ICE!

It sounds crazy, but it pretty much was like that everywhere.  Worse: hotel and motel rooms.  Oh my goodness.  Here,  you get ice bins on every other floor, if not more.  You can call room service and have ice buckets delivered even.  In Britain, you have to work for your ice.  First, you have to beg the restaurant or the bar (and more often than not it’s the bar) for a large pitcher of ice.  Buckets are hard to come by, but some have them.  In other places, it was more of a challenge.  Once, I had them give me three pint-sized glasses of ice.  Second, you still have to convince them to actually fill up the container with ice and not just scatter a few ice cubes in it.  Third, you have to lug it up to your room on your own.

I kept telling servers, “I’m American.  I need ice.  Fill the glass up with ice, please,” and more often than not, I’d still get just three cubes.  I’m not sure why they couldn’t understand simple English.  I realize we don’t use their ‘u’s with the same frequency, that I use elevators, not lifts, and that I’m the one with the accent while on their turf, but what is so hard to understand about, “Please fill the entire glass up with ice,” especially when accompanied by a visual representation with my hands and often a story about how I haven’t received a full glass in the past?

Ugh!  There is just no denying that the UK is prejudiced against ice and perhaps just the concept itself of enjoying a cool soda.  Even when you try to buy a refrigerated drink, you get this oddly unchilled, but supposedly chilled bottle.  Dig your way to the very back of the bottles and still, the bottles are not truly chilled and definitely are not cold.  They just don’t understand the concept of a cool beverage.

I will remember my trip to the UK mainly for wonderful Alfie Boe who made me smile every time he said my name.  The thrill of realizing he really knew who I was upon sight without being told makes my heart sing.  Of course, he’ll forget me now that I’m not part of his almost daily routine which I was for two weeks, but what joy it was to have him see me, smile, and say my name as only Alfie does (seriously, he says my name in his own way and I love it).  Close to the top of other things I doubt I’ll ever forget, though, is how hard it was to get a decent cup of ice in Alfie’s homeland.  Man, it was hard work.

At the very last hotel, in the wee hours of the morning just after the Boe buses had departed at the tour’s end, I asked for a bucket of ice.  The male staff member was also a foreigner.  He said he got it, but still started to give me a sub-par bucket.  As I told my story of England’s ice prejudice, there was laughter.  Another Brit staff member was laughing and laughing hard.  He got it.  He understood perfectly.  It was my last on the road giggled frustration over ice.  The final laugh actually occurred at the home of my friend, Annie.

Now Annie is a saint.  She endured my quirks and emotional swings for nearly three weeks and survived!  At any rate, when we returned to her house the night before my departure, she looked in her refrigerator and there was an actual bag of ice, apparently purchased by one of her sons who likes smoothies.  Its very presence evoked laughter!

Ah, England: ice!  Give it a try!  It’s not a bad thing, really!  Cold drinks are … cold and that’s a really wonderful thing!  :}

Racers Who Love to Race: Stewart, Busch, Keselowski, Edwards

Today’s tragic news involving NASCAR driver Tony Stewart has brought up another racing topic that has bugged me for years.  The cause of my consternation?  Broadcasters and media analysts, including past racers, who criticize current Sprint Cup drivers for racing in other competitions, such as the Nationwide Series (the minor league, so to speak of NASCAR, and dirt track races on the Sprint racing circuit in vehicles other than stock cars.

Today, former racer Rusty Wallace again went on a crusade against drivers appearing in non-Cup events.  I didn’t write down what he said, but it’s nothing new.  He just disagrees with racers risking injuring and effort in other races that could distract them from the big picture in the Sprint Cup series.  Frankly, I’m tired of his assertions on the subject.  He’s not the only one who believes that way.  I just happen to disagree with the assertion.

Certainly, the bulk of Sprint Cup racers, including my favorite Jeff Gordon, dedicate themselves solely to the major league series.  It’s probably a good idea, especially for those who have a family.  It’s a long season and most of the their week is spent preparing for the big weekend race.  Like Gordon, who will occasionally appear at a special function including Stewart’s Eldora Speedway dirt track, these drivers may do one or two other races a season, but it’s hardly a regular thing.  Still, there are a handful of drivers who have such a passion for racing that they want to do as much of it as they can.  It isn’t distracting for them; it’s a pleasure, something they love, need, and crave.

Stewart is arguably the most known of these.  He lives to race.  He is now an owner-driver, too, and as mentioned, he runs the Eldora Speedway.  Even though he broke a leg at one of these circuit races last year that caused him to be a non-Chase factor last year, he recently returned to race that same event not long ago.  Stewart is single. He has the time and inclination to race to his heart’s content.

Kyle Busch is well known for competing in other events as well.  As with Stewart, I am not a Busch fan.  He is an arrogant, brash, self-absorbed-when-on-the-track individual.  Still, he is an awesome and skilled driver.  Marriage and being under the guidance of religious Joe Gibbs has reeled him in a bit, but that’s not really the point here.  A couple of seasons back, it was suggested Busch curb his non-Cup participation.  He did.  The result?  Well, I don’t have the stats, but certainly his Cup record that year was far from his best.  For him, racing more seems to make him better.  After that limited year,  he’s gone back to driving in the bulk of Nationwide races and several Camping World Truck races for which he owns a team.

Carl Edwards, one of my favorite drivers, used to race a bunch in other events.  He had the same suggestion made to him and, like Busch, he pulled back.  Unlike Busch, he’s remained focused just on Sprint Cup racing, but I’m not sure that was the right thing for him.  Now Edwards is married with kids, so his time is naturally more limited these days.  I can’t blame him at all for opting to use his non-Cup time to be with his family, but he actually could be more like Busch and be a better driver when he’s driving more.  I miss his Nationwide participation for sure.

Kasey Kahne is like Stewart in that he also drives in several races on the sprint circuit beyond the stock cars.  Others do, too, in varying degrees.  Brad Keselowski loves to race and though some are on his case to stop his Nationwide efforts, he has thus far ignored those cries.  He’s a bit of a rebel, a label that could probably be applied to Stewart and Busch as well.  Rebels and racing: reminds me of Dale Earnhardt and the original group that paved the way for today’s drivers.  Even Dale Earnhardt Jr. still drives in a select number of races other than the Cup series.

Leave these guys be.  Let them race.  It’s good for the sport to have some of these big names out there at local events, and if the passion is that strong in them, they will ultimately be better for it because they will be happier.  Regardless of the profession, being happy tends to result in better performance.

So, Rusty, give it a rest.

The Court of Public Opinion Moves Swiftly

I woke up to the news this morning that a horrific accident had occurred last night at a race in which a young driver, Kevin Ward Jr., was killed.  The loss of life has been eclipsed by the fact that NASCAR 3-time champion Tony Stewart (nicknamed ‘Smoke’) was driving the vehicle that hit and/or was hit by Ward.  The story and video can be found here.  It’s graphic and sad.

The court of public opinion is sounding wildly.  While there is plenty of public support for Stewart, who is skipping today’s NASCAR race in Watkins Glen, there are also numerous accusations of murder and questions about why he hasn’t been arrested.  It boggles the mind how quickly people leap to conclusions.

For the record, I am NOT a fan of Tony Stewart and never have been.  He is a hot head and whiner.  Very little is his fault  He’s had multiple run ins with my fave driver (Jeff Gordon, who was on the pole for today’s race).  Still, being passionate and self-righteous on the track does not equate to being a murderer.  Heck, all the racers can be quick tempered on the track.  Then they cool down and life goes on.

Stewart is in a no-win situation.  For every person criticizing the decision to sit out the Sprint Cup race, there is someone ready to criticize had he raced.  He would have been called callous and worse.  No matter what decision he made, the court of public opinion was and is out there, waiting to condemn.

The video is frightening.  Stewart always races to win.  The accident in which Ward’s vehicle was taken out is what everyone calls just a racing incident.  It happens all the time.  Like Stewart and others have stupidly done in races throughout time, an angry Ward exited his vehicle and walked down mid-track with cars driving by him, seeking out Stewart.  There was contact.  What the video available to date doesn’t show is what happened on the other side of the car, the side where Ward was.  We do see a swerve.  Some in the court of public opinion are calling that murder.  The question is, though, what happened that was not in the camera view?  These are not heavy stock cars.  Did Ward in his anger reach out and then get caught on the car or something similar?  I don’t know.  We can’t see that side of the car.

What I do know is that people are quick to judge.  Stewart likes to win but to think he would intentionally hit a driver standing away from that driver’s vehicle seems, pardon the expression, but overkill.  I have a difficult time believing he would hit a human being, well aware of what could happen.

The court of public opinion is going strong.  Stewart is trending on Twitter for reasons I’m sure he wouldn’t want to be.  His quest for a fourth championship is essentially over for 2014.  The fallout is bound to continue for years, regardless of the investigation’s conclusion.  No matter what happens there, Stewart is always going to be called a murderer by some.

Meanwhile, 19 laps into the road coarse race, Jeff Gordon continues to lead the way with 42 drivers behind him.  Among those is Regan Smith, today piloting the 14 car with driver’s name of ‘Smoke’ on the door.

Giant Orange Rant: Integrity Should Mean Something

Before I get into my rant about Giant Orange, I’d like to say that I finally heard from a representative of iHOP (see my prior rant about its customer service).  I was pleased with how the conversation went and am now waiting for the rep to make good on what he promised to send me as an apology for how iHOP dropped the ball in this case.  They just may get my business back after all!

Now for Giant Orange.  This small restaurant is located on Howe Avenue in Sacramento.  It’s a bit of a throwback to fifties style food.  I had seen it many times before I finally decided to check it out during my weak food eating habits period in the first quarter of 2014.  One of the reasons I wanted to try them was that I’d read about their thick chocolate shakes.  I was craving a really good shake in January and figured it was as good a time as any to go.

Basically, I was happy with the experience.  The server was nice, the food was good, and the shake was awesome.  Then I discovered a coupon for Giant Orange through Amazon Local that I just couldn’t pass up.  When I went in again to take advantage of the coupon, I had a tentative game plan in my mind.  Now, I have to take responsibility for my role in the miscommunication that followed because I failed to read all that small print in the coupon.  I had read all of the other requirements, but just missed the rest.

I told the server that I was trying to figure out the cost so I could get my biggest bang for the buck with the coupon.  She knew exactly what I was talking about and offered to ring it up without finalizing it so I could see what the total was.  I thanked her and waited for her to return, only when she did, she came back with food.  I was surprised.  I just wanted the total.  She finally gave me the total so I actually refused what she’d brought, apologetically, of course, and ordered something that would give me better use of the coupon.

The server was nice about it, brought me my corrected order, and service proceeded.  However, I didn’t see much of her during the time I was eating my meal.  The problem with that is that the shake was not as well made as the first time I had it.  It had melted and was just a light liquid by the time I got to the last half.  I wasn’t happy about that, but with her not around, couldn’t say anything.  Then she showed up and brought me my check.  I was shocked.  It was a few dollars off what she’d said and that was because of how the tax is figured into the coupon usage.  She knew this but neglected to point it out, even though I had expressed my desire to get the most out of the coupon.  Again, I should have read the fine print, but once she acted so knowledgeable about the offer and then said what she did about getting me the total, I figured everything was good to go.  I should have stuck to what I had in my head before entering the restaurant.  My mistake.

I was so upset I left and didn’t leave her a tip.  I figured that made up for my missing out on the full scope of the coupon.  When I got home, though, it was nagging at me, so I called and asked for the manager.  The man came on the line and confirmed for me that he was the manager (I always make sure that when someone comes on the phone they are who I asked for).  I told him what happened.  He gave me an explanation for the milk shake problem and apologized.  He also told me I should have said something during the meal.  I agreed, but added I was just so upset by it and again, the server wasn’t around much during my meal for me to say anything.  I was surprised he didn’t tell me to come back another time and he’d make up for it.  Instead, he kept saying that he wished I’d said something while I was there so he could help.  I thought it was odd, but the conversation ended.

Later on, I decided to drop in the restaurant for one more meal.  I thought I’d talk to the manager in person and see if he’d make up for what happened with me there on the spot.  Well, when I asked for him by name, I got funny looks.  Turns out I had talked not to the manager but to one of the cooks who took it upon himself to say he was a manager.  I wasn’t happy about that, of course.

I then had a conversation with the person who was in charge that night.  I went into detail about what happened.  In the course of that conversation, he agreed to give me a free shake and 10 percent off the tab that night.  I was happy with that.

I had my meal.  The food was good and this time, the shake was exactly what it was supposed to be.  When I got the bill, though, I was charged full price with no discount.  When I asked about it, I was told that my issue was with the shake and I was given a replacement.

You guessed it.  I wasn’t happy anymore.  I walked out after paying my bill and have not returned since.  Good food is awesome, but Giant Orange lacks integrity.  First, I’m lied to by a cook who claimed to be a manager.  This explains why he didn’t offer to make good on a future visit.  Then when I do go in, I am told one thing, but essentially lied to, because the agreed upon resolution was something they reneged on.  What was I to do?

I am a big believer in integrity, so while I miss the Giant Orange’s delicious shakes and food, I refuse to fork over another dime to a business that would lie to a customer, not once, but twice.  It’s a shame because I was looking forward to eating there as a treat for myself from time to time.  Now, I just drive by and think about its lack of integrity.

The Death Penalty: A Sensitive Rant

To be honest, my feelings about the death penalty have always been conflicted.  There is only one man I ever really wanted to see suffer the death penalty, and that was Sirhan Sirhan for the murder of Robert F. Kennedy.  That still hurts today and that he evaded the sentence because of a changing political climate still haunts me.  However, in all other regards, my feelings have never quite settled.

The biggest con is simply that I’m not God and God should be the only one to determine who lives and dies when.  Murder to revenge murder doesn’t really make sense.  The biggest pro is that if just one person doesn’t murder because they are afraid of receiving a death sentence themselves then that is worth it.  That’s how it’s been in my mind for decades.  Further, I don’t buy the stats that say it is not a deterrent.  For one thing, just look at the convicts who make deals to avoid the death sentence.  It happens time after time, so stats are meaningless.  Besides, how can you really gauge that unknown aggressor who chooses not to commit a harsh crime because they are afraid of the death penalty?  If they don’t do it, how do you really know how many have or have not made that decision?

Nowadays, though, there is more clarity about DNA and unfair tactics that have no doubt resulted in innocent people being convicted.  There’s no doubt about that.  I also think a lot of confessions are coerced.  If more people could imagine how they would feel being interrogated for ten hours in a small room, they might understand that better.  I actually feel that all cases where a convict still claims his/her innocence and where there is DNA available should require modern testing to confirm a conviction (or not).  That should be required before any execution.

All of this said, one of my problems with the death penalty is that a prisoner can spend a lifetime on death row.  The complexity of the legal system has spun out of control.  If the death penalty is going to be on the books, then do it; otherwise, take it off and save us the money of death sentence appeals and the costs of maintaining a death row.

Further, what then bugs me is stuff like these prisoners getting their sentences stayed because of the source of the drug used in the injection.  Oh for crying out loud!  If the sentence is to put to death the murderer, then do it already.  If they feel a bit of pain, so be it.  I’m sure those they killed felt some pain.  It’s not like they are being tortured.  We’ve gone too far in the rights game.

I really don’t know how I’d vote if the death penalty came up for review again.  I truly do believe a lot of innocent people are sitting in cells across the country for one reason or another, and one wrong death is enough to halt the program.  That’s why I say that DNA should always be tested to confirm.  There are too many advances in the technology not to ensure that the right people are suffering the punishment.  No matter what, though, the loopholes and hoopla over a bit of pain or, geez, where a drug comes from, needs to stop.  That’s just ridiculous in my view.

Million Dollar Executives? C’mon, Give College Graduates a Shot!

Illustration credited to 2000 Herblock Cartoon, copyright by The Herb Block Foundation

Seriously, I am so sick and tired of stories like this one, that of a fired Yahoo hot shot taking home millions in severance even though he only worked there a little over a year.  It reminds me of the CEO hiring and firing that is like that of baseball managers and football coaches.  Work for Team A, get fired, go to work for Team B, get fired, and then work for Team C, and so often the salary just gets higher and higher.

Company executives are wooed with gigantic perks to go along with the big bucks.  It’s reached the level of insanity and it’s time to stop the bleeding.

Decades back, baseball’s Charlie Finley was known to be one very stingy owner.  He fought against his players getting ridiculous raises.  He watched, though, as things spun out of control.  Sadly, it was his own failure to meet a contractual obligation with pitcher Jim Hunter that really launched baseball’s free agency into the hemisphere and started a progression of million-dollar salaries.  The sport has not been the same since.  Finley may have been stingy, but my view of him has softened a great deal over the years.  While he ruined my favorite baseball team by refusing to pay what was becoming reasonable salaries of the day, he also visualized where it would lead, to a world where players like Mark McGwire and Jose Conseco never really appreciated the sport, not the way like Hunter, Reggie Jackson, Sal Bando, Joe Rudi, and other veteran Oakland A’s players did before them.  Instead, they just wanted to be pampered, take steroids, and bring home those greenbacks.  It’s sad.

Charlie Finley with the 1974 Oakland A’s (clockwise from the top): Rollie Fingers, Joe Rudi, Vida Blue, Gene Tenace, Bert Campaneris, Jim Catfish Hunter, Sal Bando, and Reggie Jackson (Neil Leifer/SI)

I find myself more and more thinking that corporations should just hire the business school graduates.  Give the new kid a shot and for just a few hundred thousand dollars a year.  Any graduate would jump at that.  No perks.  They don’t need the private jet like Anthem’s CEO does, for example.  They don’t need a home supplied for them like some university presidents do.  Just pay them what is, to them at that point, a wonderful salary and see what they come up with.  I don’t think they’ll do poorly at all.

In NASCAR, commentators often remark about the rookie drivers when they do something amazing.  Darrell Waltrip will make a comment to the effect of, “Don’t they know they can’t do that?” only they do it, successfully.  Why?  They’re hungry for the win, and they don’t know  yet that they aren’t supposed to be able to run high on Turn 3 or go three-wide on Turn 4.  All they know is that they want to win, and so they go for it, and sometimes, they succeed.

Corporations need to start giving the real new blood, the college kids or maybe the out-of-work executive who will just love being employed again a chance and in the process, save millions of dollars.

The business world is out of control with these salaries and severance packages.  The sad part is that it is ultimately consumers, you and me, paying for it, via higher priced consumables and services.

Get a grip.  Give the kids a chance.  Really, how much worse can it get over the disasters that have come out of some companies in recent years?  Think about it!  Support the youth of America.  I’m betting on the college graduates, that they would give it their all and often win in the game of executive wars.