It's Bandstand, Disneyland, Growin' Up Fast

"A voter wants a regular guy. The kind of guy that is just going to get really drunk, sneak up behind someone else with a two-by-four, and knock 'em out cold."

Poll: Mitt Romney Is Candidate Most Voters Want To Get Into Bar Fight With

With Happy Endings, Where Nobody Fights

• A very interesting post by George Packer of The New Yorker on what he describes as "The Kaleidoscopic War" in Iraq. Packer's The Assassins' Gate: America in Iraq remains the best book that I have read so far on our involvement in the Middle East.
• I have yet to take Professional Responsibility from this man, but I'm pretty sure that trying to slip a judge $40,000 for a favorable ruling might fall outside the bounds of ethical behavior.

Now They Make New Movies in Old Black and White

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, all of those who have passed through the great tribulation, I welcome you to the day after.

"The day after what?" you might be asking yourself. Simple. The day after the supposed NFL Network imposed apocalypse was going to descend upon our nation like fans of the Grateful Dead converging on a midnight veggie burrito vendor. If you took the prudent advice of the brains behind Prosso Speaks, you either went to a friend's house or a sports bar to watch last night's battle between Texas and Wisconsin. Me? I took the former option instead of standing way too close to strangers in a Waco Buffalo Wild Wings for 4 hours.

With all that said, what was the quality of the product from NFL Network? The game itself (which is obviously the most important facet) was an intriguing back and forth matchup featuring an injury to the league's most recognizable player (see Favre, Brett), an almost devastating miscue by one of the game's best receivers (Memo to Mr. Owens: Perhaps buttery popcorn is not the best thing to throw on yourself in the midst of a touchdown celebration if you still need to play another half of football), and ultimately a 10-point win by the Cowboys that will go a long way towards clinching home-field for the NFC playoffs, or as I'm going to call it, "The Quest to Take Down the Great Satan in the Desert". It's a bit wordy, but it will grow on you.

The most notable downside to the broadcast? Bryant Gumbel sounded like he was hosting "Antiques Roadshow" instead of the first NFL matchup between 10-1 teams in 17 years. I realize that years of hosting a sports show on HBO might do a bit to dull your enthusiasm in the booth, but I'm pretty sure that the immortal Gus Johnson could have generated more excitement than Gumbel if he was stuck announcing orders at Sonic than Gumbel produced during one of the marquee games during the '07-08 NFL season.

Speaking of great moments in sports broadcasting:

• The aforementioned Gus Johnson during the 2006 Sweet Sixteen matchup between UCLA and Gonzaga.
  
  
• The immortal (at least in Texas) ending between Plano East and Tyler John Tyler in the 1994 5A State Football Playoffs. This is exactly why people from Texas are mocked throughout the country, and I love every minute of it.


• Martin Tyler verbalizes his man-crush on Steven Gerrard after the Liverpool skipper equalizes in the 90th minute of the 2006 F.A. Cup Final.


• Finally, the world-famous call by Al Michaels during "The Miracle on Ice"
  

I Could Be Anyone I Wanted to Be

In a deal that rivals the Missouri Compromise (Wait,that was a total disaster. Scratch that.), I have decided to consolidate the weekly Liverpool F.C. highlights into a single post to placate the Liverpool naysayers but to provide for those of you who come from a more enlightened station in life.

Let's get to it:

Last Saturday the Reds traveled to face Newcastle United at St. James' Park, and much to the chagrin of Cody Girod, came away with a 3-0 thrashing of the Magpies. Goalscorers included Steven Gerrard (28th minute), Dirk Kuyt (46th minute), and Ryan Babel (66th minute). Gerrard's goal on a free-kick was particularly spectacular, despite the fact that the was booed afterwards by Newcastle supporters that were still upset over England's failure to qualify for Euro 2008.

Yesterday, Liverpool continued their run to qualify for the Champions League group stage by defeating FC Porto by the score of 4-1 at Anfield. Goalscorers included Fernando Torres (19th and 78th minutes), Steven Gerrard (83rd minute), and Peter Crouch (87th minute). To qualify from Group A, the Reds need either a win or draw at Marseille on December 11th.

Champions League (A): Liverpool - Porto 28/11/07
Uploaded by tugalive

Liverpool plays again on Saturday versus Bolton at Anfield in the English Premier League.

As always, You'll Never Walk Alone.

If You Find Yourself in That Nostalgic Rage

Jonathan referred to it in a comment on the post from earlier today, but I would be doing myself and the rest of this band a disservice if I didn't promote the heck out of The Sports Guy's record-breaking 7 hour, 4 minute chat today on ESPN.com.

For those of you who are loyal and ardent Sports Guy followers, you've probably already read the chat transcript, but for those of you who have not delved into the madness, I'm warning you.

This is like picking up War and Peace and thinking that Leo penned a tome that could be vanquished in less time than it took Howard Dean's presidential campaign to fall apart after the "Yeahhhhhh" speech in 2004.


Reading the entire transcript is going to require whatever fortitude, gumption, moxie, and mojo that you possess, but know this: You will be a better person at the end of the madness.

Just as my father constantly reminds me of the musical supremacy of the 10-year stretch from 1965-1975, my children will one day grow tired of my stories chronicling the moment when The Sports Guy vanquished the record of Rob Neyer.

You Can Go to Movies and See It All There

As all of you have surely heard or read, Washington Redskins safety Sean Taylor died early yesterday morning from gunshot wounds he suffered in an early-morning robbery attempt at his South Florida home. Michael Wilbon of the Washington Post (and "P.T.I.") has a powerful, if not also controversial, column on the tragic nature of Taylor's passing and how it has become an all too frequent occurrence in today's landscape.

Admittedly, my only information on the subject is filtered through other media sources, but something about the entire situation gives off the air that some detail, some lead, and some motivation is lurking below the surface. Perhaps it is the fact that another burglary occurred at Taylor's home only eight days before the fatal shooting or that in 2006 Taylor's vehicle was sprayed with a hail of bullets after he initiated a confrontation over the disappearance of some of his ATVs.

Since the news of Taylor's death first hit the internet and the airwaves, I have heard over and over again about he was changing his life and habits after the birth of his 18-month old daughter, and I hope that is true. With that said, the current limited description that we have of how the break-in and shooting occurred seems to point to the fact that this was not simply a random act.

As someone who is going to turn 24 in less than two months, I truly believe that Taylor's passing at such a young age is no more or less tragic than the death of any other 24 year old, regardless of their athletic, intellectual, or social gifts and abilities. Despite the fact that we have almost lived a quarter of a century, there is still this ever present notion that the curtain has just gone up and life is a wonderful show that has just begun. For Sean Taylor, the curtain has gone down much, much too soon.

Writing Fan Letters to Sky King and Penny

In more news from the source of perpetual putridity (Baylor football), University of Houston head coach Art Briles was interviewed in Dallas today by the Baylor Athletic Director, Ian McCaw, but has not commented on whether he will fill the B.U. coaching vacancy or even if that soul-sucking position was extended in his general direction.

Without question, my favorite portion of the article that I have linked to is the rumor circulated by a Houston radio station that Baylor offered Briles a contract for 10 years and an annual salary of $1.8 million dollars. Now, we can all acknowledge that Waco is not sub-Saharan Africa, but an annual salary of $1.8 million would enable you to do a myriad of notable things in the 254.


Such as:

• Purchasing the site of the former Branch Davidian compound and hosting "Start Your Own Fanatical Following" seminars.
• Buying exclusive rights to a section of the Brazos River to host simulated naval battles. It worked for the Roman emperors and it can work for you as well.
• Acquiring the Brazos Belle, breaking that venerable craft free from its moorings, and cruising up and down its namesake river while constantly referring to yourself as "Steamboat Willie".
• Placing additional copies of the above-pictured Gizmo magazine into your already extensive collection.

Coach Briles, I have no idea if you will be the next leader of the Baylor football program, but I have no doubt that my enticing recitation of possible outlets for your potential wealth will be an offer that you cannot (as Don Vito Corleone once said) refuse.

Lift Up Your Head, Focus on Every Detail

Congratulations to Mr. Joseph R. Halbert for correctly naming "Lift" by Flickerstick as the Monday Song of the Day.

In an exciting new addition to the blogosphere, Kayla (Freede) and Lance Agan recently began worldwide publication of "Our Happy Life". We'll see how happy life is when Lance finds out that he received second-billing in the naming category, but until then enjoy the Houston-derived, smog-addled, thoughts of the Agans.

We're Rising With Every Breath

Congratulations are once again in order for Mr. John Middleton after he correctly named "For the Longest Time" by Billy Joel as the Sunday Song of the Day.

While A&M fans are caught up in the excitement of a new head coach, the Key City is still trying to come to grips with a meltdown of colossal proportions. That's right, my friends, my beloved alma mater, Abilene Christian University, lost in the second round of the Division II football playoffs to Chadron State (Nebraska) by the astronomical score of 76-73 in 3 overtimes.

As if that final score was not amazing enough, at one point in the 4th quarter, the Wildcats led by the score of 49-20, and somehow the game slipped out of our still turkey-greased hands. My long-lost cousin, Bernard Scott, led the Wildcats with 303 yards rushing, 80 yards receiving, and 5 combined touchdowns, but unfortunately, it was all for not.

Oh well, at least ACU will always have those track championships to fall back on. Thank you, Nicodemus Naimadu.

If You Said Goodbye to Me Tonight, There Would Still Be Music Left to Write

Congratulations to Mr. John Middleton for correctly naming "Your Song" by Elton John as the Wednesday Song of the Day. Mr. Middleton's derisive and utterly contemptible pro-Chelsea F.C. comments were purposefully ignored in the name of tasteful restraint on my part.

Now that I have returned to the Land of the Bear after a festive holiday weekend in the Pines, let's check the tally sheet:

• Were mountains of stuffing/dressing consumed? Yes.


• Did turkey comprise a portion of at least 90% of my meals in the last 3 days? Yes.


• Did I thoroughly enjoy the Cowboys-Jets, LSU-Arkansas, and Tennessee-Kentucky games? Yes.


• Did I actually see my father sit on the couch and watch a large segment of Singin' in the Rain on Wednesday night? Yes.


• Was I one of the shopping-addicted Americans that ventured forth from my post-Thanksgiving food coma to waltz through the doors of a Kohl's department store at 4 a.m. on Friday morning? Absolutely not. I would rather live in a world where Nickelback actually sold over 6 million copies of their last album in the United States. Wait, what's that? Ladies and gentlemen, it seems I have just been informed by the research department here at Running Down a Dream that my deepest fear actually took place. Repent, my friends, for the end is coming sooner than any of us thought.

All in all, I was thankful for a little time to wade through a very enjoyable read, Warren St. John's Rammer Jammer Yellow Hammer: A Journey into the Heart of Fan Mania. The book chronicles St. John's season following the University of Alabama Crimson Tide football team through the literal vehicle of the RV caravan of hardcore fans that accompanies the Tide wherever they go. More specifically, the title of the book is taken from a chant familiar to the 'Bama faithful, which provides the cap to big wins by their favorite squad.

I'm not going to become a supporter of the Crimson Tide anytime in the near future, but it's hard not to laugh (and cry) at the devotion of their fans that St. John captures in his tale of fandom taken to its extremes.

I Hope You Don't Mind That I Put Down in Words

Even though brothers Thomas and Julius Jones will face each other tomorrow in Dallas as members of the New York Jets and Dallas Cowboys respectively, their story still goes back to a small town in southwestern Virginia called Big Stone Gap.

I May Talk in My Sleep Tonight

• As I speculated a few days ago, the U.S. Supreme Court has agreed to hear the case of Heller v. District of Columbia on appeal from the D.C. Circuit Court. An exact date for oral argument has not been set, but this will be one of the most eagerly anticipated cases in recent years from our highest court.
• There must be something about a 2007 Major League Baseball Most Valuable Player award that makes you lose in the first round of the playoffs. Alex Rodriguez was announced as the A.L. winner yesterday, and shortstop Jimmy Rollins of the Philadelphia Phillies won the award in the N.L. Then again, an N.L. MVP has not played on a World Series champion since Kirk Gibson with the Dodgers in '88, and an A.L. MVP has not featured on a team winning it all since Willie Hernandez with the Tigers in 1984.
  
• Finally, I have been catching a ton of flack from friends and foes for my decision to wear the following shirt as a joke at a "Round-Up" themed Wilderness Trek fundraiser.

• I'm pretty sure I do not need to direct you to my location in the photo, but for those of you who are a bit slow with context clues, I can be found on the left clad in garb that would bring a tear to the eye of Sam Houston, Stephen F. Austin, or anyone that possesses any indicia of fashion sense. I must reveal that the shirt was proffered to me as an opportunity to "stand out" at the event. I'll tell you this: It was all that and more.

Something's Happening, Don't Speak Too Soon

Congratulations to Mr. Dan Carlson for naming "Mrs. Potter's Lullaby" by Counting Crows as the Monday Song of the Day.

According to figures released this week by the U.S. Census Bureau, Scott is the 36th most common surname in our fair country with an average of 156 people in 100,000 possessing the last name of yours truly. The best feature of the NY Times article that I have linked to is the device that allows you to enter your last name and find out where your surname ranks in the United States.

I am issuing a call to Scotts all over this great nation: Rise up and procreate! We fell 2 spots in the name ranking list from 1990 to 2000. Whether you are Today Show weatherman Willard Scott, former Orlando Magic basketball player Dennis Scott, or a student at Scott Avenue Elementary School in Whittier, California, do whatever you can to make the last name of Scott great once again.

Godspeed to Scotts everywhere.

If You've Never Stared Off Into the Distance, Then Your Life is a Shame

Congratulations to Ms. Villescas for correctly naming "Bring It On Home to Me" by Sam Cooke as the Sunday Song of the Day.

As I was talking to one of my friends this weekend about his upcoming 24th birthday, I stopped for a moment and thought, "I'm old enough to have friends that are 24? When did this happen?" I know that some of the older (I won't say old outright) readers of this blog may laugh at such a thought, but sometimes it seems like just a few days ago I was sitting there in Holloway Middle School working my way through 7th grade Texas History.

Despite that feeling that life is moving way too quickly, there are moments when I realize that there is still so much to see, do, and experience. On some level I understand exactly what Robin Williams means in Good Will Hunting when he describes the critical difference between knowledge and experience.



At 23, it's as if the entire world is waiting out there and I hear a small voice whispering, "Your move, Chief."

Current Reading

Miracle in the Andes: 72 Days on the Mountain and My Long Trek Home by Nando Parrado with Vince Rause

If You Ever Change Your Mind, About Leavin', Leavin' Me Behind

You might be a news/political junkie if...

While flipping through the channels you notice David Brooks and George F. Will on This Week with George Stephanopoulos and yell, "David Brooks, I love that guy. He's the man!"

Not that I've ever done something like that, though. Goodness knows how embarrassing that would be to admit something like that to a worldwide audience.

There's the Truth That They Can't See

Instead of writing about subjects where there is a shred of doubt as to their vitality, I will instead stick to those where a pulse is available for confirmation.

In case you didn't happen to watch television, read a newspaper, scour the internet, listen to the radio, or talk to another human being in the last 24 hours, it may be news to you that major-league home run king (it pains me to even write that) Barry Bonds was indicted yesterday in the Northern District of California on four counts of perjury and one count of obstruction of justice connected with his 2003 testimony to the grand jury investigating the operations of the infamous Bay Area Laboratory Co-Operative or BALCO.

George Vecsey (Peter's brother) has a timely column contrasting the decisions and actions of Bonds and Jason Giambi in their testimony before the BALCO grand jury. Much like a child that continually states "You can't see me" when he is standing in plain view, it seems amazing that Bonds would somehow believe that his steadfast denials of impropriety and wrongdoing could shield him from the consequences of the BALCO investigation and former Senator George Mitchell's steroid inquiry, but I wasn't shocked by the news of the indictment yesterday, and perhaps that is the worst news of all.

As sports fans, after enduring years and years of damning revelations concerning the unwise, evasive, and downright illegal decisions of the athletes we shamefully elevate to positions of honor, nothing is a surprise anymore.

• Ben Johnson's gold medal in the 100 meters is stripped by the International Olympic Committee after a positive drug test following the Seoul Games?
• Floyd Landis wins the first post-Armstrong Tour de France in stunning fashion?
• Marion Jones dominates the Sydney Games?
• Barry Bonds goes from a slender, five-tool, first ballot Hall of Famer to a hulking behemoth that shatters the two most hallowed records in the game of baseball?

We have become so jaded as this point that each and every dominant performance that should be greeted with praise and admiration for the skill and dedication shown by the athlete is instead met with whispers and allegations of what must surely be looking beneath the surface.

Vecsey is dead-on when he voices his dislike of the fact that baseball fans everywhere must somehow begin rooting for a "clean" A-Rod to break Bonds' record in what will amount to a redemption of the record books from the grasp of the unclean to the property of those who accomplish their goals in a manner worthy of admiration. As much as I loath Bonds and everything that he represents, it's going to be difficult to support Rodriguez's quest to place himself at the summit of baseball's all-time homerun list.

Can we not just convince Hammerin' Hank to come back for eight more homers?

In the iconic words of Ron Burgundy after he jumped into the bear pit at the world-famous San Diego Zoo,"I immediately regret this decision!!!!"

Jerry Orbach, whose whereabouts I questioned in a post earlier today, is for all intents and purposes deceased. Mr. Orbach, you probably have no method of reading this post, but if any of your relatives somehow get wind of this, I have no excuses for my oversight.

Here's what the readers of Running Down a Dream are saying about my blunder:

• "Ummm Justin, im pretty sure jerry orbach died of prostate cancer a few years back. i'd be working on a well worded retraction." --Tuegel
• "Yeah, he's dead. He died in 2004 after making about 2 episodes of the failed (fourth?) spin-off of L&O - Trial By Jury. And I'd argue he had the best and longest career of anyone on L&O, except perhaps Waterston who has made a career OF L&O - Orbach was the father in Dirty Dancing, the voice of Lumiere in Beauty and the Beast and he was on Broadway a LOT. My parents saw him once in the 80s in the lead role of a musical, which I can't remember the name of. My mom says she's seen precious few performances that could match/surpass him." --Yee

A few years before he passed to the "House that Ruth Built in the Sky", Joe DiMaggio reportedly saw a mention of his death in the scrolling ticker during an MSNBC program. The Yankee Clipper instructed someone to call the broadcasters and inform them that rumors of his demise were greatly exaggerated. I'm not sure if Tuegel and Yee work for Jerry Orbach's people, but the message has come in loud and clear.

I Can't Take the Way He Sings, but I Love to Hear Him Talk

If there is anyone, or anything, that I dislike more than the New York Yankees, it is probably Scott Boras. For those of you that do not immediately recognize the name, Mr. Boras is the high-profile sports agent whose clientele includes a certain third baseman that has spent time in Seattle, Texas, and the Bronx.

Another interesting Boras-related fact is that he earned a degree at the University of the Pacific McGeorge School of Law. Simply as a matter of principle, I do not trust anyone or anything that came from the same university that produced the basketball spectacle that is "The Kandi Man", Michael Olowokandi.

Well, I say that A-Rod is a Boras client, but you would not be able to discern that fact if you were a fly on the wall at the recent meetings between Rodriguez and the progeny of George Steinbrenner. It appears that Boras is finally realizing what everyone else secretly suspected when his client opted out of his mammoth deal during Game 4 of this year's World Series: You can make demands, you can push the envelope, but if you go out too far on the limb, sometimes you find yourself imitating Wile E. Coyote in clawing for solid ground when there is none to be found.

According to the aforementioned article, A-Rod and his wife have been meeting with the Yankee brass without the presence of Boras. Due to the fact that I have not graduated from law school yet, I'm not an expert on these matters, but if I were a defense attorney, I would probably deem myself a failure if I allowed my client to meet alone with Assistant District Attorney Abbie Carmichael. That's probably because I would be motivated by more than the Rules of Professional Responsibility, but I digress.

Speaking of Law & Order, didn't the guy on the left (Jerry Orbach) really miss out on the star power from his time in the quasi-legal spotlight? Angie Harmon goes on to marry the late, great New York Giants cornerback Jason Sehorn, Sam Waterston (Jack McCoy) encourages you nightly to invest with TD Ameritrade, but where is Orbach to be found?

Can someone find the guy a slot in a late-night infomercial for goodness sake? If that's too much, what about a promo commercial for a retirement facility in Arizona or Florida? Come on kids, do it for Jerry.

Good Luck Had Just Stung Me

Nearly all of the other BLS bloggers have utilized this fantastic device, which was brought to our attention by Prof. Osler, but I have not revealed Running Down a Dream's rating until now.

I can proudly say that you are currently perusing a blog that requires a "High School" reading level, but this revelation caused me to wonder what reading level was required for some of the other material that I peruse on a daily basis.

(All of these are the unadulterated, unaltered truth)

• NY Times: Junior High
• Washington Post: High School
• ESPN: Junior High
• Luke Reeves and the Blahg: Genius
• Joseph R. Halbert: High School
• Malcolm Gladwell: High School
• Jonathan Smith: Junior High
• Tim Henderson: Genius
• Cris Carpenter: High School
• Heath Huston: Elementary School (Heath, the truth hurts)
• Patty V: High School
• Dan Carlson: Elementary School (I have a feeling there will be some feedback on that result)
• Jeff Giddens (High School)
• Chris Field: Elementary School
• Liverpool F.C.: Genius (I just report the facts ladies and gentlemen)
• Facebook: High School (I'm beginning to doubt the accuracy of this site)
• Wikipedia: Genius (My faith has been restored)
• Politico: College (Undergrad)

That, my friends, is the tale of the proverbial tape. Now it is your turn to respond.

It Seems Farther Than Ever Before

Is this what it feels like to be old, out of touch, and in the dark? A few weeks ago my sister mentioned that I should watch a YouTube video portraying my alma mater's President doing the "Soulja Boy" dance.

Shockingly enough, my first thought was not "Dr. Money dancing?!?" but was instead "What in the name of all that is good and holy is Soulja Boy?" Apparently due to the fact that I currently live in the midst of the sensory blackout that is Baylor Law School I have missed out on what will eventually be remembered as the hip-hop answer to the "Macarena".

Thanks to the recent breakthrough on this thing called "The Internet" (thanks Al Gore!), I began to do some research on this phenomenon that is passing into irrelevancy faster than the "Cavemen" series on ABC.

Here's what I have determined at this point: The man behind the Soulja Boy furor, is appropriately named "Soulja Boy Tell 'Em" and has been derided by critics as the "Nickelback" of hip-hop music. With lyrics like "Soulja Boy up in this hoe,Watch Me Crank It,Watch Me Roll, Watch Me Crank Dat Soulja Boy", no one is going to be comparing him to Thomas Pynchon anytime in the near future.

In Mr. Tell 'Em's defense I should say that he is only 17. Six long years ago at 17, I was trying to learn how to drive a standard transmission car, navigating my way through high school economics, and hitting on cheerleaders, so perhaps I'm not in the best position to be calling people out for not reaching the highest levels of achievement.

Despite the fact that more college students can probably do the "Soulja Boy" dance at this point than can tell you who Pervez Musharraf and Benazir Bhutto are, the United States seems to be headed in a good direction. Well, if by good direction I mean the path that the Exxon Valdez took through Prince William Sound. Pop culture, it's fannnnnnnnntastic!

Hey Man, Slow Down, Slow Down

Congratulations to Mr. James Watson Kizer (a.k.a. Jim) for correctly naming "Wish You Were Here" by Incubus as the Sunday Song of the Day. If the song had instead been "Wish You Were Here" by Pink Floyd, I harbor no fantasies that anyone but Tim Henderson would have seen their name in lights.

Due to the fact that as of approximately 3:30 this afternoon I have one Constitutional Law class under my belt, I feel a compulsion to comment on what might be a groundbreaking moment for the Roberts Court. This week, the Court has the opportunity to grant certiorari on a landmark 2nd Amendment case from the District of Columbia. The specific law in question bans all handguns in the District and requires any other guns in citizens' homes to be disassembled or secured by trigger locks.

Today, even though it often seems that all of the truly pressing and juicy constitutional questions have been answered, the Supreme Court has never truly addressed the scope and practical application of the 2nd Amendment in such a direct manner as is presented in District of Columbia v. Heller. Many of you who frequently read this blog may have no interest whatsoever in cases that could be possibly decided by the United States Supreme Court (Katie, I'm looking at you), and I can understand such a mindset to a certain extent but I cannot forgive it.

The decisions of the nine members of the Supreme Court do not exist in a vacuum. They have practical applications and implications for each and every person that lives or visits this country. Part of our national fabric is formed through the interpretation of the document that structures, regulates, and directs our journey. I understand that perhaps everyone cannot be expected to name each of the current justices (Stevens, Roberts, Ginsburg, Thomas, Alito, Breyer, Souter, Kennedy, and Scalia if you're scoring at home), but to act as if the decisions that are handed down from Washington are irrelevant to the lives that we lead is to join the ostriches by placing our collective head in the sand.

Current Reading

Atonement by Ian McEwan

I Dig My Toes Into the Sand

Congratulations to Mr. Andrew Tuegel for correctly naming "Yahweh" by U2 from How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb as the Thursday Song of the Day. Despite the fact that he was thwarted by Kalum Tuggle in the last U2 Song of the Day contest, Mr. Tuegel has retaken the upperhand in the battle for Bono supremacy.

Since the Winter Quarter begins tomorrow these words from Jacob Riis seem appropriate once again:

"When nothing seems to help, I go look at a stonecutter hammering away at his rock perhaps a hundred times without as much as a crack showing in it. Yet at the hundred and first blow it will split in two, and I know it was not that blow that did it, but all that had gone before."

No matter what you wake up to do tomorrow, whether it be going to school, working with kids, pouring concrete or flipping burgers, keep pounding the rock. You never know when the break will come.

A City Should Be Shining on a Hill

If anyone has $16.99 lying around that you wouldn't mind contributing towards a worthy cause, I know someone that would really enjoy the above pictured t-shirt.

What's that?
Why are you looking at me?
Of course, I would love the shirt, but how shameless is it to ask for handouts on your blog?

Not that I would know the answer to any of these previous, obviously out of line, questions.

I Been Workin' On it From the Start

In a return to action for one of my favorite writers, Malcolm Gladwell has a piece in this week's New Yorker regarding the work of criminal profilers. Perhaps the term "criminal profilers" is redundant due to the strong likelihood that people never use the term "profiler" outside of the criminal context, but I digress.
Gladwell has also recently stated that he is currently working on his 3rd book, which is highly anticipated due to the widespread acclaim that greeted The Tipping Point: How Little Things Can Make a Big Difference and Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking. In my mind, Gladwell's true appeal lies in his ability to take seemingly disparate, dense subject matter and distill it in an inherently enjoyable fashion that is also accessible to those of us who do not happen to possess MBAs from Harvard or a PhD in psychology from Johns Hopkins.

When You're a World Within a World

I thought about engaging in some sort of deception to disguise the fact that this is another post about the exploits of Liverpool F.C., but just as George Washington could not lie about his lumberjack tendencies, I cannot disguise my affections for the Reds.

Tonight at Anfield, Liverpool faced Besiktas needing the first of three straight wins to advance from Champions League Group A. I'm not usually given to hyperbole, but this result was huuuuuuuuuuuuuuge. In a sport that is often derided for promoting low-scoring matches that resemble the First Battle of the Marne, the Reds put up a snowman tonight on Besiktas. That's right, 8 goals.

Goalscorers:

1. Peter Crouch (19th minute)
2. Yossi Benayoun (32nd minute)
3. Yossi Benayoun (53rd minute)
4. Yossin Benayoun (56th minute)
5. Steven Gerrard (69th minute)
6. Ryan Babel (78th minute)
7. Ryan Babel (81st minute)
8. Peter Crouch (89th minute)

Here's video evidence until the copyright department at ESPN International gets to work tomorrow morning scouring the information superhighway.

~CL~ Liverpool 8-0 Besiktas goals
Uploaded by FairPlayOnly

Benayoun's first goal and Babel's first goal were the standouts from the scoring barrage. The Patriots argument has to come in here at some point as a one-goal win secures 3 group points just as an 8-goal win secures 3 points, but this win represents something more for Liverpool. It's a potential turning point in a campaign that began with so much promise and has gone so wrong as of late. We've always known that Liverpool often must place themselves in escape situations that would make Houdini blush to achieve their true potential, but tonight once again proved that the more things change, the more they stay the same.

Better Sell It While You Can

"Although I lost by the slimmest margin in presidential election history - only 10 votes - I have chosen not to put the country through another agonizing Supreme Court battle," Colbert said Monday in a statement. "It is time for this nation to heal."

Mr. Colbert, we hardly knew ye.

Also, I'm pretty sure the Comedy Central main switchboard should prepare to receive a barrage of vitriolic calls from Raj Vachhani, who running solely on Red Bull and a dream, holed up in his room and spearheaded the "1,000,000 Strong for Stephen T. Colbert" Facebook group. It looks like he is not going to be getting that time back at any point in the near future.

Wear It LIke an Iron Skin

Congratulations to Mr. Dan Carlson for correctly naming "Long Black Veil" by Johnny Cash, Dave Matthews Band, et al. as the Friday Song of the Day.

My deepest apologies for not writing the past two days due to the phenomenon known as law school finals as I am sure it caused a great disruption in each and every one of your lives. Yesterday presented one of those great ethical dilemmas that most people hope they will never have to face in the time that they walk down this path that we call life. I found myself facing the great decision between enjoyment and responsibility when I was forced to choose between watching the Pats/Colts game followed by the Cowboys/Eagles matchup or studying for my Consumer Protection final. I'm sure I made the more prudent long-term decision by choosing the latter, but I think a little bit of my spirit died yesterday afternoon as I spent more time focusing on the Texas Deceptive Trade Practices Act than breaking down the Cowboys' 3-4 defense.

I've always enjoyed this blog the most when it has been an interactive medium, and to tell the truth, if this outlet doesn't give me a better opportunity to connect with friends and family, what is it other than high-tech navel-gazing?

With that said, I'm taking this post to solicit your opinions on books that have meant something to you and would be worth a slice of my time. Granted, it's not as if I have an unending supply of time to read anything that I wish, but I often get the idea that there's an entire world of great literature out there that I have not been exposed to simply because of the sheer volume of it all.

Nobody Knows, Nobody Sees, Nobody Knows But Me

Quick Hits on a Friday spent studying for Finals:

• David Brooks (NY Times) envisions Sen. Hillary Clinton channeling Jack Nicholson's Col. Nathan Jessup. It's as entertaining as it sounds.
• In a statement that will surely anger one Cris Carpenter, I cannot believe that the (Super)Sonics are likely moving to OKC. I realize that the Hornets received a warm welcome in Oklahoma's state capitol, but it just does not seem right for Oklahoma City (metro area pop. 1,266,455) to have an NBA team instead of Seattle (metro area pop. 3,263,497). I know that the relative sizes of the metropolitan areas are not the only concern, but due to the large possibility that the NBA will not grant a new expansion franchise in the near future, Seattle basketball fans may be entering a very dark period.
• It looks like Uncle Ridley (Scott) has produced a riveting film with standout performances by Denzel Washington and Russell Crowe:

  "Washington is brilliant. He makes sense of a man who could move his mother into a mansion and love the joy on her face, and yet coldly place a Browning 9mm against a competitor's forehead and reply to the question "What are you going to do, Frank, shoot me in front of all these people?" by shooting him in front of all those people. Washington seems to have a secret mechanism by which he turns his face off; it goes from a vibrant, expressive projection of humanity and empathy to a stone-killer executioner's mask so fast it's scary. He makes you fear Frank. Yet he also makes you love Frank. That's the key to the thing, the charisma of the man who triumphs over the system. And so identified with this theme is American Gangster that its other hero, Richie, is also defined as an outsider. The movie seems to be saying: When the inside is so corrupt, you must turn to outsiders. "
  

• Update: An American Gangster review from Running Down a Dream's most widely read-commenter (though he would probably prefer to be identified otherwise), Mr. Dan Carlson.