Making things right

Dear Monmouth Hawks:

I sincerely apologize. That was me jinxing you the other night and I was wrong. Please accept my concession.

Dear Syracuse Orange (nee Orangemen, team of my youth):

If you do not win this afternoon I think Monmouth’s got your at-large bid in the NCAA Tournament.

 

And I’ll be fine with that.

 

This is a good time to be alive

I’ll admit that after one episode of Season Four of House of Cards I was a bit disappointed. I’d thought the magic was finally gone and I was watching just another show worthy of about a third-rate cable station, one that somehow combined the worst elements of The West Wing and your average soap opera or dime store novel.

Oh, Netflix, you always prove me wrong.

I am now into Season Four and I must say once again I am into it. The folks at Netflix and HOC Inc. are not resting on their laurels and subscription dollars.

Speaking of great TV, that now makes three shows I am currently watching, unheard of in 2016. These days you’ve got Better Call SaulThe People v. O.J. Simpson (which just gets better and better with what’s happening in real life), and the aforementioned HOC. Add in Archer beginning later this month and you’re set for Spring. What is this the 1990s? (And I mean that in a good way.)

But first, tonight, as a little appetizer… Monmouth playing for a spot in the NCAA Tournament? This is a good time to be alive.

From the sad to the sublime

One of my two best friends in the world has a birthday tomorrow. He’s the little boy who calls me “Daddy” and tomorrow he’s turning two. He doesn’t know it, but I’m sure he’ll be happy about all the attention.

And cake.

I was told there’d be cake.

Anniversary is the worst

It’s been a full decade since the worst day of my life: March 2, 2006, the day my best friend was killed in an automobile accident at the age of 23.

For reasons I can’t explain or perhaps wish to remain ignorant to, the pain of that day somehow feels worse now than it did the day it occurred. For years I’d always thought it would sort of fade or eventually go away.

Nope. I’ve actually become more mad about the day and its consequences every year since. My best explanation is that 10 years living without someone is even worse than 10 years of imagining living without someone. That’s about it.

I like to think even a sad post should end on something positive… so, yeah. I’ve made friends over the past 10 years. Even better, my two best friends actually live with me these days.

And the thing I always tell myself: my life sort of worked out anyway.

You know, despite being born with every advantage in the world.

As one given much, however, I am cursed with wanting everything, and some things you just can’t have. And that is why today’s anniversary is the worst.

Leap Day

Today is Leap Day, an unusual date on our calendar. Here are a few other unusual things that occurred yesterday that made me ponder cosmic alignments this day.

Caps lose. 

Whoa. That doesn’t happen often. Is it the playoffs already?

Wizards beat Cavs. 

Seriously? Okay, LeBron didn’t play, so it was sort of a gimme, but still.

Hollywood leftists make fun of their own racism. 

Nice job, Hollywood, and kudos, Chris Rock. Way to own the lack of black nominees this year. Jokes came early, jokes came often, and they really never stopped. Having viewed not a single one of the eight movies up for Best Picture this year, and having heard of only scant few of the others up for awards, this was pretty much all I was watching for.

Mission accomplished. Bonus day earned.

A little baseball tease before the season begins

You’ll remember a few months ago I had the pleasure of spending the afternoon in Frederick, Maryland, seeing some legit minor league baseball with an affable group of baseball devotees (see post of August 3, 2015).

I was more or less a guest that day; the real gang had committed to seeing games all summer at various parks across the country, minor and Major League.

Our ringleader has a blog about his travels and experiences seeing baseball and traveling the country with his son, and you should check it out. The following details their trip to Denver to see the Colorado Rockies in action, and their adventures in the Mile High City. Its thorough description of the history of baseball in Denver is topped only by the personal reports of sightseeing and friendship they encountered.

http://jimkulhawy.blogspot.com/2016/02/rocky-mountain-baseball.html

Trump effect is everywhere

Last night my local school board—they’re also my employer—voted to cancel school next Tuesday. That’s Presidential Primary Day in the Commonwealth of Virginia.

Can’t have the kids in school with all those angry Trump voters roaming the halls!

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind having the day off that day. I just can’t figure out what’s most embarrassing: that we can’t all get along in public buildings; that we can’t find places other than schools in which to vote; or that the thinly-veiled reason behind the change this year is the poorly-coiffed guy I want to be president!

Trumping the competition

With victories now in consecutive state primaries, it seems Donald Trump should cruise to the Republican nomination for President. (I should probably have picked another word than “cruise.”)

Much depends, of course, on next Tuesday’s “SEC” primary, which includes not only most Southeastern Conference states but my home state of Virginia.

I do not hold much hope for Mr. Trump in the Old Dominion state on March 1. I’ve met the “Republicans” we have here. They’re more likely to write in Bernie Sanders than vote for any of our candidates.

With Republicans like these…

Non-nude Playboy making few headlines

The “most highly anticipated issue of Playboy in our history” has been on newsstands for nearly a week now, and damned if I haven’t heard a thing about it.

If a fully-clothed woman falls in a magazine, does it make a sound?

Remember a few months ago, when every person on the planet was talking about Playboy magazine? It’s like it was 1953, though this time it was for what the magazine was not showing in its future issues: the thing that made Playboy what it was.

I speak in the past tense with purpose, for Playboy stopped being Playboy decades ago. It seemed with this new development that the regressive transformation would now be complete.

Last Saturday a letter arrived at my home. It was from Scott N. Flanders, CEO of Playboy Enterprises, Inc. I thought maybe they were finally getting back to me about the photos I’d submitted (that’s a joke). No, Scott was infoming me about the “most highly anticipated issue of Playboy in our history.”

He informed me that the magazine feels different.

Indeed: different size. Upgraded paper quality. Somehow vintage and smooth and analog and cool. Total overhaul of the magazine. Hmm. Didn’t sell that one too well, Scott. And thanks, mainstream media, for missing the whole point.

Regardless, I paused, thinking perhaps I now had a worthwhile magazine in my hands.

I should have known better than to rest with this fleeting moment of amusement.

Yes, I should have known from that letter. From Playboy corporate. Mental note: don’t buy magazines from lawyers.

Where’s the Hefner seal of approval? One picture of The Man on page 126? (That’s the last page, by the way.) No World of Playboy, no Hef Sightings, no Mansion pics. It’s finally the “literary magazine” Hefner always joked about.

Picture, article, picture, article. Way to think outside the box, guys. More than anything Playboy used to read like a scrapbook. Cartoons, captions, pictures, and the long essays too. The photos were hit and miss in March 2016, and the cartoons were basically non-existant. And if the party jokes are really gone forever, there goes pretty much the only chance I ever had of making it back in the magazine. (One letter to the editor: July 2004)

The biggest sin Playboy has committed over the past decades from its height of popularity (explained to me by one of its former editors), has been its move away from revealing “the girl next door” to those looking to use the platform as a springboard to fame: aspriring models, actresses, and youtube stars. Read any centerfold’s profile from the past 20 years. Ambition: to become famous.

March 2016 centerfold? Dree Hemingway (yes, of the Hemingways). Already a model and actress.

Wrong.

And the full date on the photo? Please. Rule is just the month. Because centerfolds are timeless.

Jeebus, how’d they miss that one?!

With the focus off nudity, Playboy had the opportunity to do something useful with its 21st century reboot. If you’re going to make it about “the articles,” at least make the articles interesting. A few hits but more misses, in my opinion, though it’s still classier than its how-to-keep-beer-cold-articled “competitors.”

If nothing else I do appreciate what seems to be Playboy’s philosophy these days: let the sale web content and of licensed merchandise subsidize the print portion of the enterprise. No way the paper copy makes money (trust me, I’ve tried that), but if they want to continue to put it out there under some sense of nostalgic duty, I say go for it.

Look for updates here, periodically, as I continue my diligent research of this story.