Sunday
Monday, September 11, 2023
SMOKE GETS IN YOUR EYES (& Lungs): My 2023 OREGON VACATION
Wednesday, November 10, 2021
SUNRISE IN YORK
I hadn't taken a vacation lasting more than two days in over two years and hadn't been to Maine since 2017. Plans last year for an extended Abraham Lincoln pilgrimage to Illinois, Indiana, and Kentucky were derailed by COVID-19 and panic set in that 2021 would come and go with me once again taking my remaining use-or-lose vacation time at the end of the year in the least ideal weather. I concocted an itinerary where I would travel to both Vermont and Maine in the fall during a period where the weather still allowed for shorts, the season for some colorful leaves, and the timeframe for seasonal restaurants to still be open for me to devour my beloved Maine fried clams. Arrangements were made for my cats and turtles to be cared for and, once again, my stepsons Alvin and Alburt would accompany me as I packed my Subaru (not the first car I ever owned, BTW, would-be hackers) and headed up to Bennington, VT Wednesday afternoon.
Day 1
After a last-minute oil change and wiper replacement (more anon) and a trip to Trader Joe's to stack up on some marginally healthy snacks, the journey began. I expected my GPS to somehow take me somewhere through NYC and eventually get me to Bennington.
Imagine my surprise when the directions directed me to get off on Exit 11 to go west on the Garden State Parkway and take the exit to Route 17-North which, thankfully, got me straight to the NYS Thruway while circumventing NYC. The ride itself was pleasant enough, traveling north through the Catskills and brought back memories of trips through here in my younger days. However, the desolate feel of the drive, the ebbing of sunlight, and the antiquated feel of the rest areas I zipped by gave off an unsettled vibe that something bad was about to happen.
At a rest stop to fill up the fuel tank in the middle of (it seemed) nowhere, I was solicited for money by an unusually young and attractive female panhandler with an oddly faint voice. Thankfully, I survived unscathed. Later, after a bathroom break at yet another nondescript rest stop, I returned to my car to find that a souvenir Washington Capitals license place given to me by a kindly, thoughtful old woman at work about 25 years ago during a Secret Santa exchange was torn from the front of my vehicle. I wasn't even mad about this, but was quite saddened. However, I was determined not to get too down and I drove through Troy, NY and eventually got to my cozy room at the charming Bennington Motor Inn. I saw a beautiful moon and then my stepsons and I had a good night's sleep.
Day 2Next morning, I had a wonderfully hilly five-mile run that took me past the church where lies the immortal poet Robert Frost and the Bennington Battlefield Monument obelisk, then showered, and prepared for my day. After a quick stop at the gift shop by the Monument and a "breakfast" of an apple cider donut and maple-flavored soft serve ice cream (not as, well, maple-y as it tasted when I was in Bennington in 2019) at the Apple Barn, we started our ride. A friend asked if it was starting to look like fall and I, at first, said "Surprisingly, not that much," then, as we entered the mountains that gave Vermont its state nickname, had to revise myself, "I apparently lied" as I saw wonderful colors, old churches, small shops in small towns, and other New England delights as I made my way to the Calvin Coolidge Homestead at Plymouth Notch in central Vermont after a brief stop in Weston, VT at the famous Vermont Country Store.
Although I love American history and have had memorized the U.S. presidents since my elementary school days, I have to admit that the main appeal for visiting the early home of our 30th president was his wife, First Lady Grace Coolidge. As Amity Shlaes writes early on in her biography of Silent Cal, Grace was "one of the most beautiful first ladies" and, to my red-blooded American male eyes, perhaps the one with the best figure, at least according to my non-outlandish sensibilities with an appreciation of women who fit her description. Grace was also one of the more outgoing and beloved First Ladies of her time ala Dolley Madison, very loyal to her husband and classy, and, most endearing, took a raccoon given as a Thanksgiving gift to be eaten and made it a White House pet. If I were alive in the 1920's instead of the 2020's, Grace would have been the female celebrity to whom I would have been most attracted.
The Coolidge Homestead itself is nestled in the beautiful, colorful central Vermont mountains, part of a very small village where, if looking for a second when no cars or people with cell phones are around, you can transport yourself to the 19th century. Among the highlights of the town are 1) the Florence Gilley General Store, open since the 1850's, attached to which is the bedroom where President Coolidge was born on July 4th, 1872, 2) the Calvin Coolidge Homestead itself where Coolidge grew up and features the exact small table in the exact room where Coolidge's father (a notary) administered the Oath of Office to President Coolidge in August 1923 when news of President Harding's death reached Plymouth Notch, 3) The Plymouth Cheese Factory built by Calvin's father John in 1890, and 4) the Plymouth Cemetery where the very modest headstones mark the final resting places of Calvin and Grace Coolidge.
I definitely plan to visit the Coolidge Homestead in the future. Each year, there is a Coolidge 5K running race and, barring injury or happenstance, I plan to enter next year's event.
After visiting the nearby (walking distance) very modest gravesites of President Coolidge, Grace, and generations of Coolidges, the boys and I left Plymouth Notch. I prepared to cut straight through New Hampshire and stay overnight at some motel in Augusta, ME or Belfast, ME. However, with no network connection and, therefore, no GPS, I used an atlas I had the foresight to bring and was able to see a path to Route 4 via Route 100 and....of course, there was road construction preventing this. After rerouting, I drove by some picturesque lakes, mountains, and forests, through Woodstock, VT (stopping at a co-op with whose clientele I found appealing), and eventually got to Lebanon, NH where cell phone reception finally kicked in and both GPS systems I had routed me southeast all the way to Portsmouth, NH and then up the I-95 to Maine.
Tired, I called my cousin and stayed at his house in Windham, ME and we stayed up until after midnight talking about his family, our anticlimactic careers, sports, etc. And no politics.
Day 3
Went on an early morning run through the neighborhood where my cousin lived and ran on a nice dirt trail at Tassel Top Park, which has a beach of sorts for Lake Sebago. Heading back to my cousin's house right at about the preplanned five mile mark, I decided to do "just a little bit more," somehow got lost, and ended up running far more than planned.
I drove up the Maine Turnpike, bought a shirt at a Kohl's in Augusta because I realized earlier that morning that I had packed the wrong black shirt, and then headed east on Route 3. First destination: McLaughlin's in Lincolnville Beach to get the fried clams I had waited four years to eat where I got two shocks. The first was the fact that the rubber on my left windshield wiper was suddenly loose. Before leaving for vacation, I had the auto dealer change the right windshield wiper because the rubber on it was loose. Did they give me a new windshield wiper like I thought I bought, or just switched them around?
The more significant shock was the cost of the fried clams at McLaughlin's, $16.95 plus tax for a half a pint. "Wow!," I thought, "they are really taking advantage of tourists!" as I bought a half pint for myself and one for my stepsons. Anyway, this was an appetizer as I prepared to head up to Route 15 to go to Bagaduce's in Penobscot, ME, where I would get to eat delicious fried clams and onion rings cooked in a way apparently unique to Maine sitting at a table overlooking the bay. A quick Google search showed Bagaduce's would be open until 6:30 PM, so I had plenty of time to get there.
The quaint, pastoral churches and the peaceful New England remoteness we drove by in Vermont and Maine had zero influence in preventing me from unleashing a barrage of curses after reaching Bagaduce's only to find that it was closed for the season. "%#*&!!!!!!!! Update your (further expletives) page already!!!!" I ended up paying about $40.00 for a large basket of fried clams and onion rings at a take-out stand in Deer Isle. After my first-ever trip to the town of Castine, site of one of the worst defeats suffered by the Colonials during the American Revolution, we drove to my aunt's house in Deer Isle overlooking the ocean (it is as nice and peaceful as it reads), where we were to stay for the next two nights. My aunt and uncle and I discussed a variety of things. I learned that the exorbitant price of the fried clams was no accident. The waters in the surrounding areas have gotten warmer due to global warming, making clams and lobsters scarce in the area and very, very expensive. (I still have an article from the Bangor Daily News where this was reported, but could now feel the impact directly). I also learned from my aunt that Daniel O' Donnell was virtually the greatest-ever singer. Pop, rock, country, folk, opera, ballads, gospel, rap for all I know, he can sing it all wonderfully, etc. Needless to say, I was a bit underwhelmed once I saw him perform for the first time.
Day 4
I learned more about the Deer Isle/Stonington area that morning. I learned that this small island was a COVID-19 hotspot where masking was now mandatory for all stores. (I was gratified to see that, even in this remote part of the country, everyone was complying when I went to a few stores.) Even more sad, I learned that there was a crisis shortage of nurses' aides, in part because of the pandemic, so much so that the nursing home where my grandmother lived her final years was closing for good and its inhabitants were already being moved to Bangor and Belfast, about an hour away, which would mean that loved ones would not be visiting as much, a casualty of COVID-19 not commonly reported.
After leaving my aunt's house, we headed to Ellsworth (gateway to Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park) to the Big Chicken Barn, a huge antique and used books/vintage magazines store. For some reason, my stepsons were VERY, VERY enthusiastic when I mentioned going to the Chicken Barn, disconcertingly so, to be honest. Once inside, I noticed that many patrons were not masked. As I was staying as a guest at the home of two fully vaccinated, yet senior citizens, I did not want to take any chances and got out of there as fast as possible. My stepsons were very down when I got back to my car, although they did not explain why.
We next went to Bar Harbor. Rainy, overcrowded, 90% of the people unmasked, no parking- time to abort mission. To salvage the day, we took Route 1 up to Winter Harbor and to Schoodic Point, a lovely, untainted, remote-feeling adjunct of Acadia National Park full of ocean scenery and pine trees about 45 minutes away. Driving back from Schoodic Point, we stopped in Hancock, ME at Yu (not a typo) Takeout and, for $60.00 total, each had delicious fried clams and golden French fries.
Heading back to Deer Isle, I told my kids we were going to stop at Caterpillar Hill and, again disconcertingly, they got awfully excited. I pulled up and the weather was too foggy to see the Deer Isle-Sedgwick Bridge, or much of anything. Bummer. I was disappointed, but my kids took it really hard, again without explaining why.
Day 5
One of my goals for the vacation was to see a sunrise on the ocean in Maine. Unfortunately, heavy rains conspired against this during my stay at Deer Isle. I did not even run either day I was in Deer Isle, in part because of the weather and in part because of my aunt telling me that coyotes are in the area quite often. They pose no threat so don't let that deter you from running, my aunt said. Na'ah, that's okay. I'm good- don't need any Acme weaponry aimed at me. After a Sunday afternoon lunch with my cousins and their kids where this non-meat, non-beef, non-poultry eater ate peas and corn and toast (precisely the cuisine I came to Maine for), I went to Stonington to visit my grandparents' graves, to sit in Stonington's harbor to watch the boats, and to stock up on Humpty Dumpty Barbeque Chips at the Burnt Cove Market. I then began my trek south with plans to go to Salem, Massachusetts the following day to see the House of the Seven Gables. Driving on the fly, with no particular place to go, a last-minute plan to stay at Sands By the Sea Motel in York Beach, Maine RIGHT ACROSS THE BLOCK FROM THE OCEAN was hatched, and this turned out to be the highlight of the vacation. After taking an unnecessarily circuitous route there (I realized afterward my GPS was set to avoid tolls), I pulled in just in time to enjoy a beautiful moon with the beach all to myself, Alvin and Alburt off to themselves to do Heaven Knows What.
Day 6
Learning that sunrise was at 6:36 AM, I set my alarm for 5:45 AM. Being a novice in enjoying sunrises, never having seen one on the ocean in my life, I presumed it would be pitch dark and I would eventually start to see light. Stepping outside and already seeing shards of daylight, I hurried outside in a panic and, except for one older man on a bench and a woman sitting in her car, I had this beautiful beach all to myself! I was transfixed watching, waiting, seeing seagulls flying as the morning got lighter and lighter and, finally at the appointed time, this small yellow ball rose up from the water. It was an emotional, breathtaking, spiritual experience for me, a moment I cannot wait to repeat, although company would have been nice.
Hungry, I went to a small local eatery named Sandy's where I had a delicious fried eggs and cinnamon French toast breakfast. The waitress was wonderful. After a visit to the famous Nubble Lighthouse that screams New England about a mile or so down the road, I headed down to Salem, passing through Kittery, ME, birthplace of The Association's Russ Giguere along the way.
Salem was a major disappointment, far removed from the recollections I had of it from my previous visit there back in 2000. However, nestled in this mini metropolis of crowded, uninteresting streets of nondescription, was the House of the Seven Gables, inspiration for the Nathaniel Hawthorne novel of the same name. I paid $20.00 to take the guided tour and, although I really liked the tour guide, the history of the house, Hawthorne's birthplace (a house within the confines of the site, moved from its original location a few blocks away), and the other visuals at the site were just not interesting, although it was great to walk up the narrow, winding secret staircase inside the House of the Seven Gables. After the tour, I walked around the grounds, then chatted up the tour guide as she was sitting at one of the stations, walked around the grounds some more, then got my ass out of Salem before rush hour and got ready to head home.
Thankfully, the trip back was uneventful, with the usual highlights of past New England trips when traveling on the major roads: 1) stop at Papa Gino's at a Massachusetts Turnpike rest area for a slice of pizza, 2) drive past WWE headquarters in Stamford, CT on the I-95, 3) take the Cross Bronx Expressway over the George Washington Bridge, 4) suddenly realize I have to pee 1/2 way down the New Jersey Turnpike and stop at a rest area to take care of that and get a bite to eat, 5) wondering will this Turnpike ever end, and 6) saying to myself, "Damn, now I'm back in Delaware," and realizing my escape to another world has ended.
I never did wear the shirt I bought at Kohl's.
Tuesday, March 23, 2021
WHAT I DESPISE ABOUT SOCIAL MEDIA
One of the more annoying phenomena of modern times is the need for more and more Americans to come across as witty, smart, and funny, a desire that increases exponentially in the age of social media. Unfortunately, this yearning to impress is problematic for the constituents of a country whose creativity today as a collective whole resembles that of an eight-year old who repeats the same thing over and over because it got a laugh the first time. Therefore, on social media (especially, but not limited to Twitter), the inevitable use and reuse and reuse and reuse of what this author calls internet clichés rears its ugly head, a particularly vexing annoyance for anyone who appreciates originality and strives to be a true individual thinker. Below are some of the clichés that have passed their sell-by dates long before their users became the two thousandth person typing this onto their cell phones, along with some unasked-for commentary by yours truly:
"This!" Usage of this! followed by the sharing of a link or someone else's tweet or comment means you apparently need someone to articulate what you, yourself, are incapable of expressing.
"Asking for a friend" Of course. Your friend is too shy to create a Twitter profile under an alias and is, therefore, quite grateful to you for asking this question on social media.
"That's it- that's the tweet" That's it- conclusive proof that you have nothing to offer.
"This.Is.Not.Normal." Correct. Normally, this.is.to.be.written.as.one.sentence.
"Let me fix that headline for you." No, thank you. I created my own headline. You can write your own. On second thought, why don't you swim with piranhas to scratch that off of your bucket list?
"This is gold." I can assure you that, 99 out of 100 times, it is probably not gold. Or silver. Or bronze. Probably, non-biodegradable plastic at best, non-biodegradable plastic that smells like an unchanged litter box in most instances.
"Winning the Internet." Okay, great. What's my prize?
"Breaking the Internet." I can't even...
"My (say, 2020 COVID Pandemic) Bingo Card did not have (insert stupid event here) on it." When this author sees this one recycled constantly, he wonders whether each person who uses it believes that no prior person has come across this.
"Hold my beer." How about holding onto......This!
"I'm just going to leave this here." Quite symbolic of the collective American attitude towards recycling.
"I don't know who needs to hear this." First, you're typing this, not speaking, so you really do not know who needs to see this. Second, if you do not know who needs to "hear" this, then shut up and proceed no further.
"I'm not crying, you're crying." No, really, it's just you crying. Seeing a clip of a U.S. solider serving overseas surprising their daughter (it's ALWAYS a daughter, never a son) at their high school or college graduation loses its emotional impact after the 72nd time seeing it.
"But here we are." Actually, I am over here, and you are where you are.
"I will wait." Patience is a virtue. I respect that about you. If your waiting means you will hold your breath until you get a response, so much the better.
"History will not be kind" or some variation of this, usually followed by some liberal admonishment of Republicans doing alleged evil on the national stage. Like "this is not who we are," "history..." is a cliche overused these days by liberals that means zero upon analysis. Please consult this author's all-time favorite poem, Shelley's "Ozymandias," for more information. Also, Republicans committing evil are worried about the accumulation of power and wealth on earth while they are alive and not about posterity. (Obviously, their actions also support the idea that, public statements to the contrary, they also do not believe in an afterlife.)
"Your daily reminder that," every day, people will use the same lines over and over.
Like new COVID mutations, new cliches are sprouting as we speak that have not yet become commonplace. Meanwhile, thoughtful people have to deal with "(Person) is the (Person) of (Person)" (Sample seen on Twitter: "Scott Baio is the Tim Allen of Chuck Woolerys"), "Remember when (event that did not happen or some false notion)? Oh wait, (what actually did happen or what actually is allegedly true)," and a particularly insidious one where a Tweeter types a few words, then types the words ("checks notes") in parenthesis, and then finishes their thought, as if Americans today have the intellectual motivation to actually take notes on anything.
What to do about this scourge? In his 1997 book Braindroppings, George Carlin titled a section "More general lame overused expressions for which the users ought to be slain" (his use of lowercase, not mine), followed by such nightmares as "tell us how you really feel," "don't try this at home," "what's wrong with this picture?," etc. Now, despite my piranha line above, I do NOT agree that people who regurgitate internet cliches should pay with their lives. However, I will say....THIS!: those (checks notes) who resort to their usage are lazy hacks, followers whoring for "likes," and not those who will move philosophy or critical commentary forward.
I'm just going to leave this here.
Saturday, May 9, 2020
LET THE MEME BUYER BEWARE
Memes can be fun! When created with responsibility and forethought, memes can also be a visually appealing medium to drive home a point using logic or humor, educating and delighting with the brevity of a picture more efficiently than an essay or video ever could. However, unfortunately, too many "informative" memes posted today in the netherworld of social media are, at best, half-truths not fully vetted, using tenuous or disemboweled logic to the extent that reasonable, thoughtful people simply move on to the next post. However, some memes are so absurd, so fatuous, and incomprehensible that even this author takes pause and, when the meme emphasizes a political point to which blind acquiescence can result in great harm to the greater public welfare, it's time to sharpen the daggers.
Unobjective, misleading or outright false memes being shared from one person to another is not the exclusive domain of only one political point-of-view. For instance, a meme shared on social media by more than one friend claimed that Donald Trump told People Magazine in 1998 that "If I were to run (for President), I'd run as a Republican. They're the dumbest group of voters in the country. They believe everything on Fox News. I could lie and they'd still eat it up. I bet my numbers would be terrific." When this author and others pointed out this meme (despite its plausibility) was blatantly false, even citing research, the memes remained on their social media pages.
Another blatantly false post (not quite a meme) shared by more than one person on the Left was from an obvious parody account on Twitter of someone pretending to be ZM Willem-Alexander, King of the Netherlands (replete with a crown icon right next to the name!) that said, "Dear mister Trump. You see this beautiful building? It's the International Court of Justice in Our residency The Hague, the Netherlands. It's waiting for you. It might take a while. But it's waiting..." The absurdity of an actual king of a first-world country posting such a message alone, to say nothing of the grammar (None of the original punctuation or capitalization- or lack thereof- of the faux post was altered by me) should have alerted most would-be post sharers, but when this writer told a friend who shared this on their social media page of its dubious origins, the response was, "Oh, well!" The post stayed.
However, it has been this author's experience that the majority of misleading, thoughtless posts come from the Right and the post that particularly made me pause was the following, which I guess is supposed to offer some type of commentary on press bias or something. Let's break down this simple meme, listing some of the problems with it:
1. Timing: The statistics (more on the veracity of these numbers in a moment) presented are virtually worthless, for they compare numbers for the United States near the end of the H1N1 virus pandemic to those at the onset of COVID-19. Doing this to demonstrate some type of proportion to make a statement on press bias is intellectually dishonest, as no one could guess the final statistics of the corona virus at the time the meme was first crafted at or around March 10, 2020.
2. Lack of Logic: Presenting statistics that mathematically show the lethal potency of the very pandemic you're trying to downplay is rather myopic. Highlighting numbers that demonstrate a fatality rate of only .0003695 for the pandemic you're trying to emphasize and then right above that offer numbers showing a fatality rate of 6.7% for the pandemic you're trying to minimize seems rather counterproductive to the point you're trying to make.
3. Panic Level, Part I: The quote "Swine flu sickened 57 million Americans," offered by the meme's creator to demonstrate that, during a pandemic, NBC News and other biased news agencies were using minimalist language to protect the Obama Administration, demonstrates nothing. The quote in question was the headline of an online article that, in its body, gave a simple recitation of statistics and was not intended at all to be a definitive statement on either the public's or the media's attitudes on the H1N1 pandemic. (Also, the sentence itself, when standing on its own, is not minimal at all. Just read it in this paragraph, outside the context of the meme.)
4. Panic Level, Part II: The panic level of "Totally chill" during the H1N1 pandemic (although this assertion is not true- there are numerous stories that survive detailing public anxiety) versus the "Mass hysteria" at the onset of COVID-19 can also be explained in part by knowledege that, unlike the Obama Administration, it is understood by a majority of Americans that the current administration is totally incompetent and in way over their heads. Time has certainly borne this out. Just suggesting this as a possibility.
5. Panic Level, Part III: Highlighting the quote "Swine flu sickened 57 million Americans" is pointless for another reason. Is the meme's creator attempting to imply that, of all press coverage of the H1N1 virus circa 2009-10, there were no more foreboding quotes or headlines than this? For a hilarious three minutes of right-wing media using minimalist language to downplay COVID-19, please do a YouTube search for The Daily Show's video "Saluting the Heroes of the Coronavirus Pandumbic," posted April 3, 2020.
6. Bogus Statistics: Never taking something at face value, this author attempted to verify the "22,469" number. According to their website, the Center of Disease Control (CDC) estimated that 12,469 Americans died from the H1N1 virus based on a range of 8,888-18,306 possible deaths from the pandemic. Why 12,469 and not the mean of 13,587 was used by the CDC is unknown to this author; that said, the 22,469 statistic is simply made up. In response to the Right's inevitable complaint that adding 10,000 to the estimated total accounts for all the unreported U.S. H1N1 deaths, one most also hold U.S. COVID-19 statistics to that same liberal standard.
The only things honest about this meme are its colors and the grammar.
Three days (3/13/2020) after this first meme was created and posted, a statistically more accurate meme citing the aforementioned 12,469 U.S. H1N1 deaths, 1,329 U.S. COVID-19 cases and 38 U.S. COVID-19 deaths graced Facebook, with the NBC News headline replaced by the unsupported assertion, "Do you all see how the media can manipulate your life?" Even this more accurate post was flagged by Facebook in its half-hearted efforts to combat misinformation. Unfortunately, what is relentlessly accurate are CDC figures as of May 8, 2020: 1,248,040 U.S. COVID-19 cases resulting in 75,477 U.S. COVID-19 deaths. How many of these lives could have been saved if the COVID-19 pandemic was taken more seriously at the onset instead of being downplayed for transparent political purposes will, unfortunately, never be known. Let the meme buyer beware.
Wednesday, April 8, 2020
I WANT MY HAND SANITIZER!!!!!!!!!
Shortly after the onset of the Trump Administration, I found myself on a Facebook thread reading a question posed by an apparent Trump supporter in response to some liberal overemoting on a topic lost to memory that asked, in essence, "How has Trump becoming president affected YOU negatively?," and then went on to say that, macro issues aside, is it really so bad having Trump as president if YOUR life hasn't changed for the worse? Seeing the concept of evaluating an issue or action solely on its personal impacts, I thought, was the perfect description of the 21st century Republican. You now, Dick Cheney caring about Gay Rights because one of his daughters came out or rich Republicans who care not a whit about the environment except in their own backyard, etc.
My mind involuntarily harkened back to these thoughts when I first read the story of Matt Colvin, a Tennessee man who, the day after the news broke of the first American death from COVID-19, decided with his brother to capitalize on the forthcoming tragic pandemic and anticipated panic by buying approximately 18,000 bottles of hand sanitizer in the surrounding Kentucky and Tennessee areas with intentions of selling their wares on Amazon for highly inflated prices. The price gougers were stopped by Jeff Bezos' evil monolith after 300 bottles were already sold at an obscene profit. The subsequent national outcry over this and stories of others in Pennsylvania and Canada doing the same wicked (to be blunt) thing shamed Mr. Colvin into donating the remaining approximately 17,700 bottles for the public good.
All's well that ends well, one might incorrectly say, but where was the similar national public outcry when news stories broke out publicizing the skyrocketing, price gouging costs of insulin brands such as Levemir, Novolog, Lantus, and Humalog? I mean, after all, while one can debate the effectiveness of hand sanitizer alone as a weapon against COVID-19, there is a direct causal relationship between insulin and life for diabetics. And then I recalled, aha!, the hand sanitizer story sparked outrage because the entire nation as a whole were fruitlessly searching for bottles of it. They could relate to this shortage- it affected THEM. Whereas, the need for insulin does not affect everyone, even indirectly.
What was equally troubling was the number of social media posts that emphasized that COVID-19 was, in general, nothing to fear because most of us are relatively healthy enough to ultimately combat it. More than one post emphasized the elderly and/or those with heart disease, diabetes, chronic lung disease, or issues with the immune system as the people who really needed to worry about COVID-19. Very rarely did these posts not stop there to DEMAND (my emphasis) that all of us need to take precautions to not contract COVID-19, not just for self-preservation, but to ensure that we do not pass it on to those more vulnerable. Most just left it at the observation that YOU are most likely not vulnerable, a sort of perverse combination of forces of Darwinism and Bentham utilitarianism at play. The pre-crisis John Stuart Mill would be proud (I can't knock Mill for Wordsworth's poetry being the catalyst for Mill overcoming his crisis- the Beach Boys' Endless Summer had the same impact on me during a personal crisis many moons ago).
Oh, back to the thesis statement-less, first paragraph: were the toilet paper hoarding, hand sanitizing price gouging, and strictly self-preservation COVID-19 perspectives examples of a solely a Republican mindset? No, snatches from all ends of the political spectrum are exhibiting this behavior. With a broad brush is this, then, an American mindset? This writer doesn't know and cannot quite make out what the ghost of John F. Kennedy is trying to say, but it sounds like, "Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for you."
Saturday, March 9, 2019
Why Boston is the Most Successful Sports City
While whittling away my existence on Twitter back in December, I came across a tweet from Keith Olbermann stating
“Yankees 27
+ NFL Giants 8
+ Rangers 4
+ Mets 2
+ Knicks 2
+ Jets 1
= 44
Shall we add in the ex-NY teams? Dodgers (1), MLB Giants (8)? Make it 53?” and then added, in blunt fashion, “You guys are morons.”
This, as my scanning eyes would soon confirm, was in response to a picture tweeted by Joe Giza of a Dunkin’ Donuts sign in Boston stating, “Boston Runs on Dunkin’, Hard Work, The Sweat From 37 Championships #Titletown! And the Tears of New Yorkers.”
Now, setting aside the fact that the New York (MLB) Giants won five and not eight World Series titles before moving to San Francisco following the 1957 season (the other three were won in 2010, 2012, and 2014) and that Olbermann did not mention the Boston (Miracle) Braves’ World Series title in 1914, 44 championships certainly beats 37, no? (To say nothing of 50 (not 53) beating 38.)
I obviously assumed New York would be the more successful sports town but, as is my wont, decided to try to come up with an interesting counterpoint. After rudimentary research, I tweeted back that Boston was ahead 27-19 in championships won after Olbermann was born (January 27, 1959). Looking further, I noticed that it was only going back to 1940 (before Citizen Kane was released, before Teddy Ballgame batted .406, before the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor) when New York pulls decisively ahead of Boston in the championship count, 31-30, (or 1947, if you include the Brooklyn Dodgers 1955 and NY Giants 1954 World Series titles) to get to the ultimate 44-37 totals (or 50-38 totals, if you include the relocated franchises.)
And, yet, despite the 44-37 (or 50-38) difference, Boston is still the more successful sports town when one considers how many championships have been won as a percentage of opportunities each city had. As of December 31, 2018, the New York Yankees have played in all 115 seasons that a World Series has been played (excluding the 1994 strike year- I’ll get to the non-1904 World Series later), the Mets in 56 seasons (as of 1962), the NFL Giants in 94 seasons since 1925, the New York Jets in 53 seasons from Super Bowl I on, the New York Knicks in 72 seasons of NBA Championships from 1947 on, the Brooklyn Nets in six seasons from 2012, and the New York Rangers in 92 seasons from the 1926-27 season, which means that New York teams in the four major sports won only 44 championships out of 488 opportunities, or 9.016%. Contrast this with Boston, who won 37 championships (Boston Red Sox: 9 World Series titles, New England Patriots: 5 Super Bowls, Boston Celtics: 17 NBA Championships, Boston Bruins: 6 Stanley Cups) in only 334 opportunities (the Boston Red Sox played in the same 115 seasons as the Yankees, the New England Patriots in the same 53 seasons as the Jets, the Boston Celtics in the same 72 seasons as the Knicks, and the Boston Bruins in 94 seasons from the 1924-25 season), or 11.078%.
Adding the five World Series titles won by the New York Giants and the one Series won by Brooklyn does not help because you’re adding six titles, yes, but you are also adding 55 seasons for each team (50/598= 8.361%). The gap narrows if you include the Boston Braves (1 title in 50 years before that franchise moved to Milwaukee), which Olbermann overlooked, but Boston still comes out ahead, 38/384= 9.896%. And none of this even counts 1904, when the BOSTON baseball team should have been declared World Champions after the NEW YORK Giants refused to play them for the title!
Of the cities with teams in all four major sports leagues, Boston is #1. (Postscript: since the Olbermann tweet, the New England Patriots won Super Bowl LIII to end the 53rd season of Super Bowls, thus improving Boston’s superior winning percentage still further, franchise relocations or not.)