When you are told it’s over.

Yesterday I went to a Border’s location and when I walked in the door there were 7 dogs inside the store. These were not working dogs, they were greyhounds.

As I waited for my wife to make her purchase I went up to one of the women who was handling a brown striped dog ---guess they don’t have to be grey---and asked her some questions about the breed. All I knew was they were really skinny and fast. (I had never seen one up close---by the way, they have really long noses.)

I learned a few things about the breed. First they are really friendly dogs; they had no fear as I reached over to pet onw. I also found out that there would be more than 500 available in the next few weeks, as a dog track in Wisconsin was getting ready to close. No racing, no need for racing dogs. So as you might guess she asked if I would be interested in adopting one? I explained that we have a dog and he is a handful. In fact, I thought my dog was fast until she explained these dogs could run as fast as a car when they take off from a dead stop. Okay, maybe not a Porsche or Lamborghini---but probably faster than a Yugo or Rambler in their glory year. (No plural on that one.)

She went on to explain what would be in store for their future when they are no longer needed for racing; it’s not necessarily a happy situation, but for many of the greyhounds it can be. Another owner explained that her dog was retired after 2 races because he would not win any money. Although a big dog, she said, “He’s slow.” That’s all relative as you might guess as I am sure compared to my running ability he would describe me as an invalid. There are other details but I am sure you can guess they are not worth discussing at this time. On another note, if you live in the Chicago area, and are looking for a dog, these pups are really nice and I am told great pets.

The photo above was taken at Keeneland racetrack outside of Lexington, KY. They take their horse racing pretty seriously in Kentucky; in this area of the state you’ll find a lot of breeders and some of the most famous horses to ever hit the track. I would love to have gone to the races because I really love to watch the splendor and beauty of the sport, but they were not racing that day. Unlike greyhounds, I believe horses are offered a second life when they retire---I really hope when it’s my time to call it a day I can do what I was doing that warm spring day, taking pictures.

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Time Out.

I have been on both sides of a time out; I have been the receiver and the mean parent. What always amazes me are the amount of tears and pleading on behalf of the receiver (aka kids) and how the mean parent wishes they were the ones being told to take a time out. It ranks right up there with my being told it's time for me to go to bed---I would be more than happy to follow these instructions.

The ultimate time out was given out recently by White House Spokesperson, Robert Gibbs to reporter April Ryan; she kept pressing him on a number of topics surrounding the "party crashers." He finally said, "April, calm down...take a deep breath...this happens to my son when he has a time out." Needless to say this was not well received by Ms. Ryan. I guess no matter how composed you try to be, when you are getting grilled over a question, and it is not as important as national and international matters, the human aspect comes out. This banter made it all the way to Yahoo and other sites and is now on YouTube. More than 50,000 people have viewed it.

When we give our kids a time out we usually gauge the time by age. So, in my case, if I am really bad, I get to have a 51 minute time out. Yes! (But that never happens. Darn.)

I am not sure how many time outs I received when I was a kid, but I suspect a good portion of my waking hours when added up were spent in my room. Honestly I don't remember. But knowing how mischievous I was---I am sure I knew my room very well.

The photo above was taken at Brookfield Zoo. This is a baby orangutan that looks like he is spending a time out over by the rocks. At the zoo they don't have bed rooms, stairs or chairs, so a rope near the rocks is the next best thing when Mom in this case says, "It's time for a Time Out." I am really hoping I get one later so I can watch the football game.

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Ugh.

One of my most favorable memories when I was growing up was when the carnival came to town. Back then tickets were a dime, and I can't say for sure but I suspect the rides probably were not as well inspected as they are today. I am assuming they are now checked regularly.

The rides ranged from the basic standards---Ferris Wheel, swings, and merry-go-round---my favorites however were the spin rides. I loved them. I remember one time when the "octopus" was at the carnival and it started to rain; plans were for the carnival to leave the next day, and I had one last ticket in my pocket. I went up to the ticket taker, who wanted to take cover, and said, "I want to ride one more time." He was not happy, but I was. I loved that dizzy feeling.

For some reason as you grow older the spin rides become less and less desirable. In fact, if I ride anything that spins or goes in various directions, I feel sick for hours. I am not alone as other people have told me they feel the same way. Now move forward some 40 years and you find the same thing happening in the town I now live in. Carnival comes to town, they sell tickets for now $.50 or .75 or more per ticket (sometimes requiring 2 or 3 tickets to ride) and the kids hop on and have a great time. Funny you don't see many parents going on the spin rides.

There is one ride that I can not fathom how anyone would want to ride. It looks like a big boat. Innocent enough until it starts to move. It goes one way, and then stops and goes the opposite direction; this continues until it is rocking back and forth and then it happens, it goes upside down and does a complete loop. Just writing this blog is making my stomach upset.

One of the things I learned about rides like this when I was a kid was when the ride goes in a complete circle, money and tickets fall out. Yep, we waited below and when they fell, it was a game of "Finder's keepers." We were bad...but we got to go on more rides because of our creativity.

The photo above was taken at the local carnival that comes to town every May. During the day it's all young kids and Mom's and Dad's. At night however it turns into the teenage "hangout." This is one of the rides I remember well when I was growing up, it's a spin ride that goes in circles---it was one we went on with girls because we knew they would slide next to us. When it seems somethings are constantly changing, the local carnival has kept its tradition.

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Friday night lights.

Often times I will ask friends at work “what they did this past weekend?” I often hear how they went out with friends, drinking, and other activities in the city. I have often thought, “how come I sound so boring?” trying to rub off the big “L” off my forehead.

There is something I have thought about over time. When do people who party at night do their chores? I mean does food just show up in their refrigerator? Does the house clean itself? When do they do laundry? Now please keep in mind I don’t think about this often, but I have thought about it when I hear their encounters from the night before.

I remember when I was in college and we had to do our laundry. We often times would wait until Sunday night, but there were not enough washers at times to get it all done. So there would be that one individual or two who would do it on a Friday or Saturday night. When this was the case, and there was a real need to have clean clothes, I would do what a lot of guys do. Turn the underwear inside out. (Hey, it’s almost as good as new at that point.)

The photo above was taken in Chicago last Friday night. My family had tickets to a play but not enough for one of us to attend. I volunteered to do something else. I decided to take some photos. What I liked about this photo was how the guy was just doing what he needed to do…his laundry. He must know by the lack of people in the laundry mat (there were no others) that everyone was out having fun. But like many of us, he had something to do—his laundry for example.

Tonight is Friday and I know the likelihood of my doing laundry is slim to none. As I watch my wife read to our two youngest daughters, I know we would be perceived as very suburban and boring. As far as I’m concerned, I will do my laundry in the morning .

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When I grow up.

There is a commercial that Monster.com ran a few years ago during the Super Bowl. It went something like, “When I grow up I don’t want to reach my potential….” and went on to focus on not living up to your career dreams. It was one of the most popular commercials during that year’s game. It was so good that an agency creative developed a spoof for advertising agency business. The best line from this new commercial was, “When I grow up I want to be a creative director, have all the TV commercials to my self and be washed up when I am 40.” It was a classic that is still on YouTube under “When I grow up I want to be in advertising.” Worth a look.

When I was growing up I wanted to be a professional baseball player. Problem was, and it was a small problem, I was not very good. Sure I could throw and hit the ball, but there were guys (this was before co-ed baseball) who were really good. They had the “he’s a star in the making” reputations, and today can only talk about being on the high school team. They didn’t get a college scholarship, they didn’t play minor league ball, they just walked off the field back to a normal life.

What amazes me are the parents who believe and convince their kids that they have the talent to make the big leagues; when you think about the odds of this happening, I always keep in perspective how strong the competition is who are competing for the 800-900 positions in MLB, I realize the lottery actually looks pretty good.

As much fun as it is to go to a major league park and watch your favorite team play, if you have the chance go to a minor league park and watch the players who are clawing their way up. They try as hard as they can because they know all it takes is one call and they are headed up to the big leagues. Sure most don’t make it out of the minors, but when they do, I can’t imagine the adrenaline rush and nervousness of having reached the bottom rung of your dream. It’s one step (or rung in this case) at a time.

A number of years ago I called on a woman by the name of Barbara Biancolana; one of the nicest people I called on in the business world. Turns out her brother was in the minor leagues and one day got called up to play for the Kansas City Royals. What happens? They make the World Series, he plays a pivotal role in their win, and he lands on the David Letterman show. (He was one of the few guests I have seen who truly held their own with Letterman.)

After the season, Buddy “Alphabet Soup” Biancolana, had had his 15 minutes of fame. It’s that fleeting.

The photo above was taken in Manchester, NH at the Manchester Fisher Cats game. I was sitting in the first row. When you look at the intensity of the pitcher’s face, and the movement on the ball, you now know why I never made it beyond 9^th grade baseball.

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Tiger.

Let’s face it Tiger Woods has had better weeks. But as bad as this week seems to be, I am sure there are more challenges ahead---the golf season will begin in a few months and he will see signs and hear his name in ways he never thought he would hear and see it. We live in a period of time where there is little that is hidden or not discovered by the media.

Thinking there’s no way they will be caught was a lesson Gary Hart (he ran for President in 1984 and was caught with Donna Rice aboard the boat named, “Monkey Business”), Elliot Spitzer, Bill Clinton and many other high profile people have thought---they were wrong. But in the end life does move on, the media circus leaves town and the next big think happens. What Tiger needs now is something huge to happen so he can move out of the spotlight. I think he still has some mending to do with his corporate sponsors, fans, oh and his wife.

The craziest thing about all of this is, I think we honestly thought this was something Tiger Woods would never do. He has a beautiful wife, has made hundreds of millions of dollars by doing what he loves most, and is the world’s best golfer. Why does he need more? Because like all of us, Tiger is human; but we often forget that when we look at athletes and celebrities. These are our idols, the people we place on such a high pedestal that the goal when they are up there is to knock them down and watch them wither around in pain. We then wonder how could they do that to us?

Since I don’t play golf, am not worth hundreds of millions of dollars, however I do have a beautiful wife and family (1 out of 3 ain’t bad) I doubt I am on anyone’s pedestal. Yet you can be sure there's someone out there who will look at me, you or anyone else and just wait for us to fall. It’s part of human nature—the dark side of human nature. Honestly what Tiger did was stupid, but it’s such old news that it’s kind of hard to understand why it becomes such a big deal when it happens. Of course, most mortal human beings are not Tiger Woods, and Tiger Woods is not your average human being. He is being tracked, sought after, and pounced on---in this instance Tiger is being attacked like he does other players on the golf course. Unfortunately there is no 18th hole at this time where he can walk off the course.

The photo above is of a mother tiger and her cub. This was taken a couple of years ago and I can tell you that cub is no longer the cute little playful cat he appears to be---he weighs hundreds of pounds, is sleek and can attack a piece of meat faster than you could ever imagine.

Under no circumstances do I feel what Tiger Woods did was right; but I assure you in 2010, or possibly even before the end of the year, someone of Tiger’s caliber will be in the news with a similar story. Why? Because they never thought they would get caught. If it does happen, and I have my Nikon with me, I will turn and walk away. I really don’t think it’s any of my business.

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Cheerleading.

The other day I was talking to someone who asked me, “Is cheerleading really a sport?” A good question however there’s a better answer. If you have ever been a cheerleader, which as you might guess I have not, you would know it’s more like a hybrid sport. A really hard hybrid sport.

Consider.

You have to be able to lift a human being over your head and make sure they can stand straight up on someone else’s hands or shoulders. We’ll call this human weightlifting. You have to be able to do back flips, cartwheels, and acrobatic moves---we’ll call this gymnastics. (Oh and you have to do this on many different surfaces.) You have to be able to work as a team in coordinating every move that happens when performing----we’ll call this teamwork. If you add it all up maybe it shouldn’t be called “cheerleading” but “weightgymnasteams.”

When I was in college one of my fraternity brothers was a cheerleader. If you are thinking he did it because he wanted to be around really attractive women, you are probably partially right. However he also did it because not only was he a black belt in karate, he loved the excitement of being part of a team. A team that played in front of the same huge crowds where the football, basketball and other sports teams played. In our fraternity everyone knew he was a cheerleader and no one would ever tell him to his face whether this was a sport or not. We knew better and we knew what he did was very athletic.

One of my daughters is a cheerleader; she is not affiliated with a particular team rather they only do competitions. No football or basketball team, just competitions. These young “women” are really strong gymnasts and are in excellent shape. Sure many of them are involved in soccer, softball and other team sports, but for sure they spend a disproportionate amount of time practicing their cheerleading routines. Why do they practice so much? If someone is not in the right place to catch a 100+ pound girl who is falling downward, the repercussions can be disastrous. Broken bones, sprained body parts and even death have occurred by a misstep.

I am sure there are some people reading this blog saying, “Is he kidding me?” Actually I am not. I really believe the amount of work these kids go through is just as rigorous at times as other sports. Sure when there is a football game happening on the field most eyes are fixed on the game. But when a play stops, the eyes turn to the cheerleaders---they are very much a part of the experience.

The photo above was taken at the Championship football game this weekend. If you look closely you will see one of the cheerleaders is falling backward. Call it a good photo, but I call it a better catch on behalf of her teammates. Instead of being injured, they were prepared in case something like this happened. As you can see a number of her teammates were prepared. What I love about this photo is her expression…the same one I would have if it had been me falling from that high above the ground.

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