There are times when Ted’s Head just shorts out. Maybe it’s overload on my limited mental capacities. Maybe it is all the damage I have subjected it to over the years. Maybe it’s the screwballs I hang around with. Sometimes this world and its inhabitants just don’t make sense.

Obama says I feel your pain. That those bad rich guys are too far removed. Then he has a party given by the elite in Hollywood or New York to raise money. He took in about $5 million last year on book sales. He hates the banks for what they have done to us but welcomes Legs Dimon when he wants to have dinner or write a check. How can he feel your pain?

Romney doesn’t feel any pain. Even if he is a Mormon he must be on drugs. He has been running for president for the last decade and he still doesn’t have a good narrative on Bain Capital. How about money in the Caymans or in the vaults in Switzerland next to the chocolates? Did he or his brilliant campaign team think no one was going to bring this up?

I got a request for a contribution from the USOC to help our athletes. Who wouldn’t want to help some of the kids? But then it turns out there is a  $25,000 bonus if you win a gold medal. You can also get something from the relays and lastly the swimming or gymnastic foundation gives you a pop also. Missy Franklin could come home with $250,000 worth of bonus money if the NCAA lets her. Good for her but why am I donating….to amateur sports?

I am trying to figure out who is the best Olympian? A member of the Dream Team or that cat who was in the crew races? He lives in a landlocked country. The first time he saw a scull was two weeks ago. He huffed and puffed and made it through to the joy and cheers of thousands.

There was a gymnast from Ireland who had been told twice in his life he would never walk again. No money. No coach. His one adoring fan was his mom. They raised money by car washes and bake sales. He made it. He got through his routine and did not go on. But he did it. Kind of like hitchhiking through Ireland with a refrigerator. You would only know what I mean if you read the book.

In the real world, a guy in Vermont was so incensed with the local gendarmes that he drove his tractor over six or seven police cruisers. He was close to the Canadian border so he thought he could escape. I have to remind myself of my creed to feel no better nor worse than any other human beings. Smarter or dumber too?

Getting back to the asylum we call Washington how about the boys and girls taking a six week summer recess. You know times are slow. We really don’t have many problems to address. I forgot we can kick the can down the road. I really hate that phrase. They have to work on some new material. They have to work on a lot of things

Harry Reid says Mitt Romney is lying about his taxes. Of course Harry hasn’t released any of his own and doesn‘t have any evidence of Mitt‘s miscues. Same old, same old. Just throw it up against the wall and see if it sticks. Don’t confuse the issue with facts. I just realized John Boehner is in line to be president right after Joe Biden. That duo should help us all sleep better tonight.

Speaking of losing sleep. Our local baseball team, the Rockies are really bad. They have this thing for starting pitchers that they cannot throw more than 75 pitches. Doesn’t matter, they rarely get that far anyway. They fired the pitching coach but moved him upstairs. They moved the GM to another part of the building…away from the action. And they draw 40,000 fans a game. And you thought we were all dumb hicks here in the mountains?

My religion confuses me. I know what I believe. But the guys in the red hats don’t seem to be singing out of the same hymnal. I have to be good but they don’t. But my local church with a great priest and welcoming congregation is thriving. Come to think of it, it reminds me of our government. The guys in Washington have no clue but we are doing just fine here locally. Arrogant.Pompous. Opinionated.Out of touch with reality. Kind of fits for Popes,Presidents, Congress and top executives alike. Maybe I am not confused after all?

As always

Ted The Great

Factoids:

I am trying to help my neighbor and great friend to learn the game of golf. He wonders if it is all worth the aggravation. He sees people screaming and yelling and throwing clubs. He may be right and that is a factoid.

Take Diana Kroll who is a wonderful soulful singer on a balmy night in Denver at the Botanical Gardens with a glass of wine in one hand and my beautiful wife sitting next to me…..That is very cool and that is a factoid.

Liberals make the biggest fuss over our poor. But it is the conservatvies who give way more money to charity.– Although liberal families’ incomes average 6 percent higher than those of conservative families, conservative-headed households give, on average, 30 percent more to charity than the average liberal-headed household ($1,600 per year vs. $1,227).

— Conservatives also donate more time and give more blood.

We spent billions on this space flight to Mars. We spend next to nothing exploring our oceans. It is our least discovered frontier. I wonder if they will find that women are from Mars or Venus?

I was watching an old blurb on PBS the other night and Steven Sondheim was center stage. It was a celebration of his eightieth birthday and the publishing of his new book. Steven is one of the great lyricist of the twentieth century.

Listen to Send in the Clowns from A Little Night Music. Done in the 70’s it is still incredibly  poignant. Anything from West Side Story where he collaborated on the score with Leonard Bernstein is beyond relevant. Sweeney Todd. This guy knows how to write words that rip your guts out or have you humming.

As I write, I listen to opera or classical music. I am not really so clever that I know the story line, the words of a particular aria or what movement in E flat this is. I don’t care. It sounds great. And really gets my juices going.

Think about Mozart, Beethoven, Puccini, novelists, epic journalists. The Beatles, The Who, Paul Simon, Billy Joel. Safire, Woodward. Dali, Reubens, Da Vinci. I just get blown away by the creative arts. They are so good at putting everyday in the realm of the spectacular. Moreover their reach is universal.

How do we raise creative kids? One of the best things for us was Genessee, Colorado. Just outside of Denver we lived there in the early eighties. Cable hadn’t gotten to us and we got two Denver channels that were fuzzy at best. Our kids had to make up their own games, forts and plays. It was twenty minutes to a grocery store.

It was pretty beyond imagination. We skied on weekends and the kids walked to the pool. I think they were bombarded by color and nature. The nights were silent but deafening with nature noises.

I think I have told many of you of the book “How to Think Like Leonardo DaVinci. Maybe we are too far gone but our kids and grandkids could sure use it. The basics are to engage your five senses in everything you can. By doing so you engage so many facets of your brain. It literally jumps alive.

They took two groups and taught them a detailed task. One class was well lit with beige walls and fluorescent lighting. The other had fresh flowers, vibrant colored walls, classical music and soft fabrics. Who do you think learned better and faster ?

Lastly is the whole concept of rote. Our educational systems today rely on measurements of what you retained but not what or how you thought. You are taught to give back to the teacher the answer he or she is looking  for. What if there are two or three right answers?

Kathy and I might be hacking around, talking about this or that and somehow I get a funny idea in my mind. I start taking off saying this, that leads to that. Easy everybody I am talking about jokes here. All of  a sudden we are laughing. As she says life is never dull with you, Ted.

I try to be cogent in my writings. To follow a theme, structure and basics of development. But then sometimes I just want it all to spill out. I just start ripping and it all comes out. Don’t stay within the lines. It’s more fun out here. I guess that is what they call stream of consciousness.

I wrote something once. I shared it with my dear departed older brother. It was crazy spoof on a friend of ours. Sarcasm and satire oozed. He asked me how long it took to write it. I said, “about twenty minutes”. He marveled and I shrugged my shoulders.

But you see I don’t feel like I am anything special. Sure I can twist a word or a phrase. Maybe I see irony or meaning in something stupid but so do you. You just need someone to point it out…or better yet you just have to look.

We spend our lives too often in aimless wandering. We have an appointment or a game in two or three hours and we wonder how we are going to “kill time”. We gaze blankly at the Olympics to see if we won. We miss the beauty of striving and defeat. The sheer humanity of failure.

Look outside on this beautiful summer day. It could be sunny or raining but it is alive with color. Walk down the street or look over the golf course and tell me how many different shades of green you can see. And then in your mind just cogitate that my green is different than the one you see. Simply put, we all see life differently and that is marvelous.

We all want to be right or left or black or white. We passionately want people to agree with us when our strength is our diversity. Don’t agree with me but please, oh please just hear me out. Try to take one little strain that might make sense and just consider it.

I have had so many life experiences over the last few days I kind of scare myself. Some horrible. Some heart wrenching. Some euphoric. Some so simple. All have touched my soul. It really is great to be alive. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

As Always

Ted The Great

Factoid:

Google “Send In The Clowns” or West Side Story. Listen a bit. Dream a dream. Be Wistful. Glenn Close’s version of  “Clowns” is particular. Not really a factoid but what the hell?

Gracenote has 97,206,484 songs in the data base. Some are different renditions of the same song but we go a lot of listening to do.

Again…How to Think Like Leonardo DaVinci by Michael Gelb. Better than Montessori or advance placement classes for your kids.

Da Vinci was left handed dyslexic and a procrastinating perfectionist who left many of his paintings in sketch form or unfinished. There is hope for us all.

There is a pall over Colorado as there is most of the United States. It is not the first time nor will it be the last. Maybe it’s particular to me because that movie theater is but a few miles from my front porch.

I sat there Sunday morning reading the newspapers and doing the Sunday crossword puzzles. All was calm but all was not bright.

The simple question I keep asking myself is “ How did we get here?” Some say the gunman was sick. Some say he was inherently evil. We all watch footage after footage searching in vain for an answer. We will probably never know. There are guns. That won’t change. There are terribly sick people out there. We have 330+ million citizens. Some are just not right. Don’t try to hide. You can’t. It’s the world we live in.

Then I asked myself if such is the case, what can we do? Mental illness is caused by one of or a combination of four factors: heredity, a horrible  experience, chemical imbalance or environment. That may be too simplistic for you scientists but for the moment let’s just take it as a given.

The only real culprit we can even begin to attack is our environment…..our world. I think back to my formative years and I try to compare that to today. A little overwhelming. I can’t help but feel we have let the world rule us. We have such an urge for acceptance that we have forgotten how to be HUMAN beings. Everything is served up. Nothing is questioned. We eat it all.

We have made it easy for bullies. They don’t hang out in schoolyards. They reside at keyboards. You don’t have to spread rumors by whispering. You can just text anonymously. In seconds. Bullies aren’t just young kids. They are our rumormongers, shit stirrers and spin doctors. Throw it out there and see if it will stick. Who cares about facts?

As you know I try to listen to both conservative as well as liberal radio and TV to keep myself grounded. Not easy. Both sides are incessant. Depending on your flavor, you can in three short hours get so whipped up for or against you might just go out and shoot someone. Think that’s crazy? Just listen to the unending tirades and imagine cooped up somewhere inhaling that every day, week in, week out. Something or someone just might snap.

Go to a dinner party. Have a few drinks. Watch how seemingly civil people get so bent out of shape that rational conversation just goes out the window. And we consider ourselves the intelligentsia. I had dinner with a friend who is both smart and influential. As I tried to engage him I could see his heels digging in. He has since sent me emails by the truckload. Some to be considered. Many laced with vitriol and bile. I am not shocked but saddened by the hatred.

Most of all we have all sought out and are very comfortable within our cocoons. Rich. Poor. Left. Right. East. West. North. South. We love hearing what we want to hear. Complex problems are solved with a huzzah. Go get’em. Kill the son of a bitch. Boy, that feels so much better. “You rich bastards don’t know what it’s like.” “You stupid jerk. Get a job!”. We are sure we are right. And right is might.

After 9/11 we had a wonderful resurgence of love and respect for one another. We all were hit. We were all one. Our cocoons were broken open and we really did walk a several miles in other people’s shoes. But how soon we forgot. That was just a passing fancy. Had to get back to the real order of things. Climb back inside. How sad.

It may sound redundant or even hyperbole but we have to change. From Washington down to Main Street. It could start with the elections. Tell me what you can do that’s positive and not what an asshole the other guy is. Will it happen? Probably not. But don’t forget they do it because you and I buy it. Negative sells.

I am not one of those that think I have the answers. I am struggling  not only with Aurora but what we have become. We are so aloof to the world and each other. There is so much bad. But then again there is and could be so much more good.

I am going to ask you to try just two things. First of all I would like you to go out today and engage someone you have never met. Just say hello and tell them your name. Ask them to do the same to someone else. That’s it. A simple but very attainable bit of connection.

Secondly, I would like you to answer a question. Just what did you do this day or week to make the world a better place? Several years ago I sat in Jim Hesburgh’s den. His brother, Fr. Ted Hesburgh of Nortre Dame was there and we drank a few scotches. I finally asked him what drove him. He said, “Every day of my life I try to correct injustice.” What an incredible way to live.  There is no way I could put it any better.

As always

Ted The Great.

Factoids:

The US has about 270,000,000 guns or 90 per 100 people. The 100 includes children.

A semi automatic weapon can usually fire 45-60 projectiles per minute. The shooter in Aurora supposedly used an AR15 with a 100 round drum magazine. I can’t verify so it is only a semi factoid.

59 million adults and children play video games. 89% of the best sellers are labeled violent. You can win points by murder, rape and overall violence in the eyes of the judges. What a country!

In defense of violent games:

“What regulators fail to recognize is how violent video games can actually benefit adult gamers.

For one, violent video games allow a player to enter and control a fantasy world to act out scenarios he or she otherwise wouldn’t.

“[A] teen can try out different identities — how it feels to be a hero, a trickster, a feared or scorned killer or someone of a different age or sex — in the safe fantasy world of a video game,” said Cheryl K. Olson in a New York Times article.

Don’t you feel better now.

.

With all this heat I wonder what is was like for the Jews wandering around in the desert? Imagine trudging aimlessly for years not weeks? Food was short and so were tempers. But this one dude by the name of Moses got out in front. He could talk to God or at least he said he could and people believed him.

Now who was going to mess with him? He went up on a hillside and came back with a tablet and ten numbers. He didn’t even have a chisel. He came back and saw the gang messing around with a gold statue of Justin Biebershitz and blew a fit. Got their attention when he tossed a fifty pound IPad made of stone at them. He took it back to the God App store and got a new one just like that. This guy was good.

He got even better. He could bring down bread from the skies. When he went to Red Sea he decided the shortest way between two points was a straight line when the Egyptians were in hot pursuit. So like every other self respecting Jewish leader would do, he parted the sea. Very cool. Look out Bebe. You are a rookie when it comes to this stuff. Takes years for you to build settlements. Moses put the sea back to where it belonged in a matter of moments. Tough act to follow even for a politician.

Point being there was grousing and bitching among the underlings. They had their Harry Reids and Nancy Pelosi except their names were Reidstein and Pelosiburg. Boehner was Weiner and Cantor played himself. They had become professionals at wandering and it suited them just fine.

Now as it came to pass Moses was getting sick… and tired too. He looked all around for a successor. Someone who had class and of course chutzpah. Not some schmuck. He needed someone to help lead them out of the wilderness. It was going to take new ideas because the old ones weren’t working. He would have to be the bearer of bad tidings. Straight Talk Express.

You see they had worn out the God App and the batteries were low. Solar hadn’t been invented yet so they needed a new source of power. They had to look deep into their hearts and souls. Aha! That’s the answer!

They began to realize they had to depend on ingenuity and hard work. Things sucked and they weren’t going to get better for awhile. They would have to give up the big tents and entourages because there was no way they could pay for them and still make it to safety. They might have to reach out and help their fellow wanderer.

They would have to stop grousing like old Jewish grandmothers. Weeping and wailing, saying the condo in Boca West was too small. The doctor didn’t understand them and they were dying. Oy Veh! Cool it ladies. You were not dying. None of  them were. They  were too fat and had been spoiled all our life. They had taken and taken and gave nothing back. Hmm. Sound familiar?

But Moses searched and searched in vain. You see the leaders weren’t leaders but bull shitters.(Yiddish term) As long as they were lost they had a job. And the troops were gullible. They would believe anything that promised them what they wanted to hear. Some wanted the status quo. Some wanted change. Nobody really thought through the repercussions of their philosophies.

There had to be snake oil salesmen in the crowd. Asp…en and tonic has a nice ring for the newer set. Diamonds for everyone. Ooops, we forgot about the diamondback  part. You could make anything palatable but even then they knew deep down there was no such thing as a free lunch. There is poison in everything but you can last a long time if you just take it in small doses. As a matter of fact you can feel downright immune. Until the BIG ONE.

So fast forward. Some of the Jews became Christians. Perish the thought, some became Muslims. Intermarried. Heaven forbid. New ways of thinking. New beliefs. Some couldn’t bear parting with the past. Some thought they didn’t have to work for anything. Fighting just like the good old days.

But there is no Moses today. Beards are out and Armani has yet to come out with flowing robes. Gucci was never into sandals. We really need someone to step up and bite the bullet. We kid ourselves into thinking he or she is here. That false idol thing. We listen to platitudes and promises. They are in the heat of battle and are so soon forgotten. Then we wait another four years for a new face. Moses, where art thou? We could really use you.

As always

Ted The Great

Moses was an aristocrat. His mother put him in a basket and he went cruising down the Nile….right into the Pharoah’s daughter’s hands. Kind of like Romney coming up from Mexico.

Moses was actually a stutterer. It took him a long time to get to the heart of the matter. By that time people had forgotten where he was coming from. Kind of like Obama.

Moses like many great leaders never saw the fruit of all his work. He went unsung. Nobody named hospitals or freeways after him.

One of the ten plagues he whacked the Pharoah with was mosquitoes. Several of his kin have settled in New Jersey and Minnesota. Hey, it could have been boils or locusts.

Yeah I know we live in Colorado but a group brought the ocean to the mountains and bridged a gap of oh too many years. 16 strong,  we climbed the Red Rocks and danced and sang and just had a ball in this crazy world. A fabulous evening. We went nuts during a three and a half hour marathon known as the Beach Boys 50^th Anniversary Tour.

To start with, our mighty group of wannabes was beyond eclectic ranging from a ranch owner with a thousand head of cattle, bond guys of old, a lawyer and a mortician, John Horan. The head body snatcher provided two stretch limos and we left from of all places the mortuary parking lot. Champagne and tail gating as only you read about. Our own brand of Epsom Downs. Wood Allen, where are you?

If you have never been to the Red Rocks Amphitheater in Denver I probably won’t do it justice. It is carved in the foothills about ten miles west of Denver. As you rise to 6,000 feet the stage has the skyline as its backdrop. The seats are lengths of pine or oak spanning the whole row. Your location is simply marked and you could get a bad case of fanny fatigue if you sat too long. We didn’t worry about that

It was magnificent how the dwindling light played tricks with the sky and your soul. Not a lot of crazy lighting and none of it strobe. You had purple mountain’s majesty meeting with amber waves of grain and they melded effortlessly. Nimbus clouds floating lazily in the setting sun were the only warm up act needed. And then they appeared.

We had gone to a Kingston Trio concert a few years ago at the Vilar Center in Beaver Creek and it was embarrassing. They carried canes instead of tunes. Not so tonight. The huge stage sported 14 musicians and five were the Beach Boys. There were drums, sax, piano and of course driving guitars.These guys knew how to do it.

The 9400 attendees were just as much a part of the show as the main attraction. We fumbled through the verses and sang long and loud for the choruses. We were in Row 28 of what is probably 100 staircase steps and it was the greatest people watching experiment you could have as you looked back up the hillside to people just having fun and singing and dancing to the music.Incredibly they did over 40 songs. They claimed 51 and I don’t doubt them. If so they should rename the place…Area 51.Mike Love is the lead singer and Brian Wilson the pianist of great repute. They left nothing in the bus.

Sure it was surfing music to a large degree and who cared. Critics would probably pan the repertoire and good for them. There was an air of melancholy of years gone by. Simpler times. Innocent times. Lost loves? Lost dreams? Not really. Kath was by my side and we just got lost in time and space as she reluctantly danced in the aisles with me. She never looked happier….or prettier.

For over three hours we just had fun and it felt so good. You didn’t worry about Libor or Libya. Grease seemed more appropriate than Greece. Diamonds were in the sky and not the one at JPM. Obama? Romney? Who are they? There were no drunks. There were a handful smoking pot. Just a bunch of old farts enjoying themselves.

There were two things that really struck me. These guys really know how to harmonize. The falsettos weren’t as crisp as you would like but when they hit chords they really knew what they were doing. There was no grandstanding but each one playing his part. Taking his bow. Making sweet music.

The second was the fact that our state has been so devastated by fires. Thanks to some timely heavy rains that has abated somewhat. But we also could realize what a great place this world is. We will find a way to heal and regrow. We might have to sing in a totally different way. But right now we need some singers that know how to recognize each other’s talent and blend effortlessly rather than singing off key at every chance. And of course we need a good lead singer to show us the way. If any of our politicos wants to step up to the mike we all will be in the cheering section urging on at every note with no stones to be thrown.

That’s it for now. Stayed up way too lateI have got to get some sleep. I hope you enjoyed the show.

As always

Ted The Great

Factoids:

The monoliths that form the natural walls of the amphitheater contain fossils that go back 250 million years.

Construction was part of a WPA grant and began in 1936 and took 12 years to complete.

Harry Belafonte, the Beatles, the Grateful Dead, Stones are but a few of the performers who have been there. Almost to a person they say it is one of the greatest venues they have performed in.

The Beach Boys are the longest continuously performing rock group in the country.Two have died over the years. One from a tragic accident and one from cancer.

Or maybe I should say we have a come a long way baby. Either way I am sure I am not politically correct but then again it is not the first time. I am getting studious on this the Fourth of July,2012.In between sips of my vodka and diet tonic, I am reading the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States Of America. Just like Georgetown.

As for the Declaration you really have to picture beautiful downtown Philly on a hot summer’s day in 1776. Everybody in the Northeast is screaming today because the power has been out for a few days. Can you imagine being cooped up for several days in a small meeting room with your buddies dressed in stockings and wool coats? NO A/C. No fans. Some shower. Some don’t.

A  most striking fact is that these insolent subjects of the king were actually quite religious. Speaking of Divine Providence and The Supreme Creator during their Dear John letter to King George you kind of wonder how we have gotten so secular? I am not saying we should all be one religion but when we quote “life liberty and the pursuit of happiness,” theology does seem to play a role from the very beginning.

Reading further the king doesn’t seem that heinous but on a few points he really struck a nerve. The boys and girls in DC better watch out or TTG might submit a new declaration for your ratification.

Now the Constitution is actually quite amazing first for its simplicity but secondly for its duration. These guys were good. They were to the point and readable. It is intriguing as some of the amendments followed they became more circumspect and verbose. Probably had more lawyers involved.

I like that no title of nobility shall be conferred. But if that is so why do we call Newt, Mr. Speaker and good old slick Willie, Mr. President long after the fact? We do the same for judges, senators and mayors. As a matter of fact I don’t know why doctors always insist their full title be put on their golf bag or locker. You know good old Ted Kenny is located right next to Dr. Bruno Von Lipshitz. Who cares?

The road to amendment is both long and arduous and it should be. For this reason how in God’s name did they get everyone to agree on the Volstead Act which became the 18^th amendment in 1919? It did allow for “medicinal whiskey” which why Uncle Louie to this day gets smashed getting himself better on the demon rum. They didn’t repeal it until 1933. By that time Al Capone and other notables had gotten rich. It was time

All my meandering aside they both are really fascinating documents. There really is no provision for healthcare but there is the “promote the general welfare.” One of the bitches with the king was that he threw up too many barriers to immigration. Sound familiar? It provides for the approval by Congress of treaties, judges and ambassadors. But this was meant as a check and balance not a political ploy. It speaks of free exercise of religion but does not say that exercise has to be behind closed doors.

Long and short is that you can read into them any definition you want. That is why we have a Supreme Court and constitutional lawyers. But let’s not get so far afield that we can’t also rely on our own common sense. Let’s spend as much time on the spirit of the law as we do on the letter.

I ask Washington to stop playing games. Those originals did not foresee representatives staying for 20,30,40 years. They did not make provision for entrance of big money in a government “by the people and for the people.” They weren’t bickering. They were trying to get a country started and moving in the right direction.They were young and naïve but it seemed to work.

Let’s say Happy Birthday Baby and hope we are just getting our second wind. We have so much going for us. Let’s not blow it. I don’t need Uncle Sam as a new hospice patient. He has been battered and beaten but he has a lot of fight in him.  Let’s get him back to health. All of us.

As Always

Ted The Great

Factoids:

Betsy Ross was commissioned to sew the first American flag in May or June before the Declaration on July 4,1776

The Liberty Bell was rung to gather all the citizens of Philadelphia to hear the official reading of the Declaration. There was no Weather Channel but I think we can assume it was hot. Damn hot!

Both Thomas Jefferson and John Adams died on July 4,1826 exactly fifty years after the signing.

The origin of Uncle Sam probably began in 1812, when Samuel Wilson was a meat packer who provided meat to the US Army. The meat shipments were stamped with the initials, U.S. Someone joked that the initials stood for “Uncle Sam”. This joke eventually led to the idea of Uncle Sam symbolizing the United States government.

Yahoo Headlines:

Stocks Careening Between Hope and Greed

Greek Finance Minister Resigns…Crisis Deepens.

New Home Sales Highlight Continuing Recovery.

Gas Prices Are Silver Lining For Economy.

Is The modern Day Depression Already Here?AD: Men Boost Testosterone With One Trick….No Joke

Now I am a man of small mental resources. I hinge on every bit of info that comes my way. Should I be up or down? Should I get more meds? Should I be happy or sad. Please tell me. I thought I was happy but obviously the pundits know better. HELP!

I remember when I was really stupid. I didn’t have Geraldo, O’Reilly, Rush, Keith, Rachel or Nancy Grace, to name a few. There was no Fox, CNN, Bloomberg, MSNBC, C Span, Court TV, CNBC. There was no Facebook, Twitter or sexting. You rode the train and furtively stuck the NY Daily News inside your NY Times or Wall Street Journal. That’s okay. Away from snooty suburbia you could read the rag on the subway.

Mel Allen, Vince Scully and Red Barber announced games and even a few were on TV. How bereft I was when all I had was my imagination to see the green grass of Ebbett’s Field or Yankee Stadium. Stats stopped at batting averages and WL, ERA for pitchers. Pitch count? Never heard of it with Ford, Spahn, Drysdale and Gibson.

But I am old fashioned and in the dark ages. What were we going to get accomplished at pickup games on the Village Green? You have to work on your stroke and your three seamed fastball when you were thirteen. Make sure you have two uniforms with cleats and helmets and of course pads for your arms, wrists and shins. Make sure you are properly hydrated with electrolytes and plenty of protein for a long game. Oh yes I was a neglected child.

Today they get in the car and hop into a seat that would make an astronaut proud. Unfortunately when I did get a ride it was one of a family of seven, I got the center armrest in the middle of the front seat. If I was fleet of foot.

Most of the time I rode my bike. The one without fenders, no chain guard, handle bars flipped over so you could place your bat and mitt on the front. But the best part was the center bar where I would let my buddy sit for the somewhat uncomfortable but available ride home. Helmets were for football only.

Yeah, I went to the library not Amazon for my books. AC in the house was an attic fan that could suck the sheets off the bed. We went to the movies and threw pop corn boxes at the screen until the manager threw us out on Saturday afternoons. We were home at dark. Need a ride? Just start walking and I will try to get there honey before you make it all the way home. Sure.

God, what a dope I have been. If I had all the stuff they have today I would be so much happier. I would be so much smarter and richer. I would get so much more out of life and really be able to cram tons of important things into my day.

It’s probably better to just sit here and wallow in my own ignorance. I really do want to know that the market was off 150 points immediately not later. I want to fret over Greece and Spain minute by minute. I want to know what Justin Bieber or Lebron had for lunch. Or what time of day they relieve themselves. What’s a guy to think? Probably nothing. There must be an app for that.

As Always

Ted The Great

Factoids: I am an old fart. I can’t think of any.

This week’s U.S. Open led me back to an unpublished piece I wrote a little while back. With a great weekend of golf behind us, it somehow seemed appropriate.

It is said you learn more about a person in playing 18 holes of golf with them than you do over twenty years of normal interaction. You find out how that person handles adversity. Do they cheat? How do they treat people like bag boys and caddies? Their spouse? Is it all about them? Great studies in human nature.

Low handicappers as rule are slow and  somewhat self absorbed. They want to hit that perfect shot. When they do and when they don’t, they want to tell you all about it. And of course they will tell you right away what club they hit. Who really cares what club you hit? Is it on or off the green?

High scorers are different. They spend hours over the ball. Not from concentration but indecision. Let me see? Are my hands right? What about my aim? I have to remember what the pro said about taking it back. Will you just hit the friggin’ ball? Self conscious? Excuses. Excuses.  I looked up. I pulled it. I shanked it. Don’t ever say that word. It is either a pitch out or a Chinese hook.

Betting is another thing. It should be straightforward but sometimes has so many variations you could be up or down big in the space of a few shots. The most I have ever heard bet on the course was $100,000. Michael Jordan usually plays for $25,000. Me? I love a $2 or $5 Nassau but that is considered bush league by today’s standards.

There was a story going around about Gulph Mills Country Club on the Mainline in Philly. It seems several years ago three young turks were teamed up with the president of Sunoco in a Saturday morning pickup game. The hot shots wanted to play for big money and kept needling the CEO. Exasperated, the senior exec asked the biggest mouth how much money he made last year? He replied, $100,000. He said, “Fine, I’ll roll you dice for that and then we will play a two dollar Nassau.” Case closed.

I love to needle and in turn have it shot right back. Banter takes on whole levels of finesse especially as one’s opponent is about to strike the ball. I also love to cheerlead and help without becoming an authority. If you have seen my golf swing you understand why I keep instruction in big terms and not theory. KISS. Keep it simple stupid.

When he was alive, my brother belonged to quite a few golf courses. Like ten or eleven at one count. It was great when I pulled my hat down, we looked enough alike that I could come strolling into some of the finest courses in the country and have them say, “Good Morning Mr. Kenny.” Of course I  would nod and keep right on moving. I love it when a plan comes together.

The best thing he taught me was how to treat guests. He really didn’t care about how he played but rather were you having a good time. He was beyond gracious and caring to the staff and it reflected in their friendship with him. Good lessons to learn.

We had opening day at Lakewood last month. Teams of five played in a scramble where you used the best shot of the five and kept playing the hole. Great because at some point everyone contributes. I played with three great guys and one who was a pain in le derriere.

This gentleman never cracked a smile. He was a very good golfer but always complained. He would call the putts and if it didn’t break the way he thought it would, it was of course because you hit it wrong. He was aloof. He was arrogant. He took away from everyone else’s fun day.

The point is simple. He could have been so much more. I really felt sorry for the guy. It was a gorgeous day. We were on a golf course. What could really be wrong? I mentioned it to a friend and he said he had seen the act before. He stated the guy probably never had a good day in his life. How sad.

Lessons learned. Don’t take your self too seriously. Life is too short. We are on the right side of the sod. Realize how much your good or bad mood can affect others. It’s only a game. Kind of like life.

As always

Ted The Great

Factoids:

There are approximately 16,000 golf course in the US. Roughly 25% are private. 300 courses are maintained by the military.

We spend $76 billion a year on golf. That is split between 26 million golfers but not evenly. 50% reported spending over $1000 a year on equipment. 2% of golfers spend $15,000 or more on everything.

The most expensive public greens fee is Pebble Beach @$495. That’s about $125 per hour. Usually you can get on a local public course for $30.

It is estimated that 300 million golf balls are lost in the Us every year. Now if you are only allowed to look for five minutes, how much time do spend chasing those little white things down.

There are 5.75 million female golfers.

Only 22% of all golfers score better than 90 for 18 holes. The average score is 97 for men and 114 for women.

Remember: Every shot makes somebody happy.

It has been a crazy week. Kathy’s sister and brother in law are in town for the week. David is a thinker like yours truly and the conversations at 6:30 AM have gotten weighty. At 9:00 PM we are talked out and ready for some recharging. No, we don’t go out drinking like days of old but head for the sack.

I haven’t missed my daily dose of news and interviews and there were two special ones this last week with Tom Colburn, senator from Oklahoma and Jeb Bush. Neither are running for office and of course without the reelection pressures they spoke freely and made absolute sense. We have serious problems ahead. You know it. They know it and Washington knows it but they think somehow if they don‘t bring it up somehow the Lord will provide. My Georgetown Logic 101 didn’t teach me to see it that way.

My son rode his bike Sunday morning some 40-45 miles. His wife came in third in a biathlon on Saturday. My son in law is participating this week in Ride the Rockies which is an endurance battle to cover some 480 miles in 6 days going up and down a gazillion passes. And they think this is fun. We are taking to the car.

We cruised out of Denver this morning at a leisurely pace to head north. Boulder gave way to Lyons and a great backroad ride through small towns placed us at the entrance of Rocky Mountain National Park at Estes Park. These are not the lights of Broadway.

It of course was a gorgeous Colorado day but the horizon quickly turned a dark and murky color. There is a huge out of control fire burning football field sized swathes through dense forests in a matter of moments. It is estimated the fire can travel at speeds of up to 30-40 miles an hour. The humidity has been in the high teens and gusty winds have fed this insatiable monster. Homes are engulfed in minutes and a life of striving somehow goes for naught. It is nature at its best and worst. Thank your stars.

As you enter the park the vastness is everywhere. We begin the climb up Trail Ridge Road which will launch us from an altitude of 8,000 feet at liftoff to 14,700 in the next 45 minutes. The park is about 450 square miles with still snow capped peaks standing sentry everywhere. If you have an ego, come here. You will get over it. The combination of size and eons of geologic history do make you feel somewhat insignificant.

You tip your hat to Teddy Roosevelt. Before and during his presidency he spent a fair amount of time in the West. It was his unrelenting pressure that produced places like this, Yellowstone and Yosemite. Congress could have cared less at the time. Funny how their short term thinking is a legacy borne out by their legislative heirs. Some things never change.

As you reach the summit above tree line, the tundra is the only surviving vegetative life in this unforgiving terrain. During the winter the wind howls up to 150MPH and the temperature does not get above freezing for five months.

It is not quite moonscape but the realities of life are ever present. And yet the sky is beyond Colorado blue and you are reminded of John Denver’s lyric in Rocky Mountain High. “They say that he got crazy once and tried to touch the sky”. Good stuff.

As you wend your way down the backside you go at an easy pace. It’s as if you want the feeling to last forever. The tranquility to be savored. Bleakness turns to aspens greening in the sun. There are campers and pup tents of all sorts. A man in waders is in a mountain stream fed by the snow. The water flowing from snowmelt will wind up in Denver or even LA through tributaries far and wide. You are constantly reminded of the magnificent quiltwork of nature that keeps us all alive. I wish I was better at getting that across.

As we drive back to Denver two things come to mind. We pass towns and homes of all description. Shacks and mansions sit on the same hill. Everyone has their own idea of heaven. All are glass houses. None should throw stones.

Secondly is the respite somewhere remote provides. Away from the hustle and bustle, I Phones, texting and tweeting. Some place where your thoughts are your own. A place to dream and imagine. “What if” doesn’t play out on an Excel spreadsheet but in your heart. I am glad I took a break. I hope you enjoyed the ride.

As always
Ted The Great

Factoids:

There are 58 National Parks in 27 states. They are administered by the National Parks Service which is part of the Department of The Interior.

They range in size from 6,000 acres to 8 million acres. Alaska and California have 8 followed by Utah with five and Colorado with four. The total area of all parks is 52 million acres.

The largest house under construction at this time is 90,000 sf in Windermere, Florida. There are several homes available to be built that range in size from 200-500 sf. I think they used to call those Airstreams. Actually, the average size of a house in the US is 2,000 sf but going down.

Ugly Americans. Sad to say as we entered the park a car in front with Texas plates no less threw a large piece of paper out of the car. Further on there were many signs saying it takes over fifty years for the tundra to recover from people stepping on it. Of course there were several groups running and standing on the frozen soil to get that one great picture. The rules don’t apply to them. Oh yeah. I forgot we are too regulated.

“Summertime and the livin is easy”….well almost. I really am betwixt and between. Part of me wants to just put my feet up and set life on automatic. The weather is just perfect and the front porch continues to beckon whether it’s coffee in the morn or a glass of red and a cigar in the afternoon. Maybe I ought to reverse that order.

More than a couple of you worried about me last week. You thought I should be put on a suicide watch. Au contraire mon amis and amies. Just because the idiots running the asylum are incompetent at best, does not call for slashed wrists. Actually it just gets my engine revving more. But for now it is a kinder gentler me.

As you read this Junior Golf is starting. I have four of the grandkids in it this year. Three assemble from far and wide and stay with Gammy and Padge Tuesday night. We pick up the fourth at 7:15 AM Wednesday and we are off in the “Padgemobile”. Actually, Aiden wants to stencil that on the side of my car and put a big PEACE symbol on the hood. The kid may have potential yet.

Speaking of golf I have gone over to the dark side or on second thought the bright side. I played golf with Kathy and two of her cute friends last week, much to the hooting and howling of the peanut gallery in the men’s grill.

Now some of you are rational I hope. We played in 3:40 with two of us walking. Would you rather see a beautiful woman over a putt or one of my slug friends? They don’t fart and belch to speak of and at the end of the round they give you a big hug and a kiss. What’s wrong with that picture?

It so happened Kathy and I played on Sunday with another gal and a young lad of 11 years young. It seems he is the reigning 10 and under champ of Colorado and sports a 10 handicap…and plays to it. On the par 3 Fifth hole he put his ball on the green quite methodically. This is now starting to get a little unnerving.

TTG grimaced over the ball but managed with my ever classic swing to put it soundly on the short green stuff with a six iron bridging the 167 some odd yards. It started rolling towards the cup and in typical Tiger fashion I bent over to pick up my tee thinking I would have good chance at a birdie two. I then hear the young’un yell “It just went in the cup.” I couldn’t see that far so I had to trust his steely vision. On arriving at the putting surface there was no ball on the green but a peek inside the cup revealed my Srixon 3. A Hole In One. How about that?

I finished the round with a respectable 83. That followed one of the ugliest rounds of my life on Saturday with a generous 93. Which was preceded by a 40 for nine holes on Friday. You wonder why I think I am going crazy? I then proceeded to buy drinks at the bar and have too many vodka and diet tonics in a pint glass and life was good. Say good night, Ted.

Why all this rambling? I really have so many ways to travel. Life and its people are a mystery to me. That’s not confounding but a real joy. I love to “Ponder the Imponderables.” A good friend called me a lefty last week. I didn’t take it personally. As a matter of fact I loved it because it shows that most of the time people don’t have a clue where I am coming from. Not sure I do either.

I just want to hit life head on. I want to speak out but with some degree of purpose. I hope you do too. There are things wrong but they are not insurmountable. Another friend is apoplectic about the future of the world. He is sure we are headed to economic ruin. Maybe we are but I would sure as hell like to try and stop it rather than sitting here waiting for it to come.

I watched an interview with Charlie Rose and Larry Fink who is CEO of the investment firm Blackstone. It was one of the best I have seen on current day problems but also with thoughts on mending them. It’s the type of conversation I wish our leaders of all stripes would have. I recommend you take 40 minutes and watch it.

And so I will keep bouncing from nirvana to neurosis. It’s good for the soul. And when Kathy says I am driving her nuts I will point out to my sweet that for her it  is a putt not a drive.

As always
Ted The Great

Factoids:
Odds of having a hole in one…about one in 12,000 for an average golfer.

Days on which most occur..Friday Least on Sunday Dunno why.

The average golf score is 100 and has been that way for decades.
It has not changed despite changes in balls, equipment and course design.

Charlierose.com 5/31/2012 Larry Fink. While you are at it 5/30/2012 Donald Rumsfeld…have a drink ready for that one.
6/1/2012 Buch Harmon