George Carlin 1937 - 2008

I first came across George Carlin when I was in high school. I could listen to this guy for hours, and just laugh. I found Carlin to be smart, insightful, and at times, brutally honest about the way things were in America. His take on everything from language, ["sir could you get on the plane... hell no I won't get on the plane, I'm flying in the plane. Leave getting on the plane for the daredevils."] to values, and religion was just stuff that brought a smile to your face. Carlin died yesterday, taking with him the seven words you can never say on television. They were featured on his Class Clown album, which I still own. Here's the story on that list. Now I know I could post that list, but I am sure you can find it. Besides, this is a pretty family friendly blog. So instead, I thought I would post a short little routine simply titled "Baseball, Football. " As a sports fan, I loved this piece.

Yabba Dabba Doo

I've spent the last week or so working in my backyard. Well let me rephrase that a little. I've spent the last week working in the rock quarry known as my back yard. Technically it is called a desert landscape conversion area. Living in Las Vegas, having a lush green carpet for a lawn is an expensive and really wasteful proposition. So instead of making choices between fescue, rye, or whatever other kind of grass is available, those of us enlightened folks in Las Vegas choose between champaign, sandstone, redrock, or aztec. Those are the predominant types of rocks available for us to use in landscaping our yards. But first you must prepare your quarry, oops, I mean yard. You need to make sure the place is level and grass or weed free. You cover all of your existing dirt with a weed barrier so those pesky weed leftovers are not poking through your gravel when you are done. And you need to install drip irrigation to all of your desert friendly plants. [That's cactus type stuff for the uninitiated] When that's done, you bring in the rock. Which is kind of funny. Because here in Vegas your land grows rock! This is an amazing place. No matter how hard I used to work on my lawn, it kept spitting up more rocks. I don't get it. Yesterday we spread the gravel. We did it by hand because renting one of those things that Fred and Barney used was pretty spendy. Also, we went with the champaign colored rock because it seemed fitting in Vegas to have that color and, as a practical matter, it was few bucks less a ton. Yep, you read that right. We buy it by the ton. And this little 1400 square foot section took 12 tons. 24,000 pounds. Oh, and did I mention my wife wanted a few boulders? We got four of those, at 250 pounds a piece. Enough rock to make Fred's boss Mr. Slate of the Bedrock Quarry a very rich man. So now all I have left is to put in a few more plants, finish my drip lines, call the water company, and wait for my check. Because since I will no longer draining Lake Mead to try and keep a nice lush green carpet alive, they're gonna send me a nice fat check for being a crazy environmentalist. Yabba Dabba Doo!

What Will $100.00 Buy?

A partial tank of gas, that's what! I've had it. I am fed up. Fed up with our politicians and their weaselly ways on energy. It costs me over $100.00 to fill up my gas tank. A C-note. One Benjamin. One flippin' bill. Now I am sure there are some extreme environmentalists out there saying I should not be driving this truck. And for the most part, I do so only when I have to. Like when I am going to Mexico. Where I work and serve for weeks at a time. Besides, in this case, I need a truck. When you have to haul tons of supplies and tools, they just don't fit nicely into a cute little hybrid. But that is beside the point. Because the argument over whether I need my wheels or not distracts us from the real culprits here, our elected politicians. We need solutions, not campaign slogans. We need answers. Not party talking points. This is an issue that is killing our economy through and through. And no one seems to have the spine to think through some real solutions. We first need to understand that no one sided approach will solve this. The basic issue is we either need more gas [drilling] or we need to lessen demand [conserving]. But to address that, there will be pain for both sides of the political aisle. And that'll take courage. Gone are the days when the GOP could call for just more drilling. Off shore drilling, ANWR drilling. My backyard drilling. Gone too are the days of the Dems telling us to conserve our way out of this. Let's be honest. Americans like to drive. A lot. Fast. In big cars. With the AC cranked up. So, what are we gonna do Lucy? The answer is simple. Conserve and drill. Or drill and conserve, depending on your political bent. But our elected Bonzos need to understand that any call to conserve must be met with an ability to explore and drill for more oil. And they must also understand that any bill to drill with no effort to conserve is as dead as a door nail. So, if you've got some ideas, let's hear them. But you need to think through both sides of the issue. No one sided approaches. This is a serious problem and it requires more than the usual political talking points.

Tim Russert: 1950 ~ 2008

For several years I have kept a pretty regular routine when I am home on Sunday mornings. I get up early, and if I am preaching later in the day, I go over my notes, take some quiet time, and pray. Then I make sure the kitchen is clean, warm up my espresso machine, and make the best latte of my week. After that, I sit down with the local paper and at 8:00am, open it up to the opinion pages, and then turn on "Meet the Press" hosted by Tim Russert. Tim Russert died Friday, and I felt like I had lost a friend. No more coffee and reading my paper with Tim. No more white board to count delegates. No more smiling Irish wit on Sunday mornings. No more making politicians account for their own words. No more Sunday encouragement for his beloved Buffalo Bills Now I know some folks can't stand the guy. Something about him being part of the Main Stream Media (MSM) liberal, leftwing, anti GOP, pro Clinton, since he is a Dem, I hate America crowd. But those folks are just nuts. You don't get the respect that Russert had by being a hack. A quick search around the net will show that Tim Russert was universally loved and respected. By both sides of the political ledger. The political world here in the US is worse off with Russert's passing. He will indeed be missed, certainly by those of us suffering from political addiction syndrome. But most especially by his wife Maureen, son Luke, and his dad, Big Russ. Our prayers go out to the entire Russert family. Rest in peace Tim Russert, and remember, if it's Sunday, it's Meet the Press. Others blogging: Conservatism with Heart, Mike's America, Rivka

The Thrill of Victory... The Agony of Defeat

Growing up in the 60's, sports were an important part of my life. You see for me, and the majority of the other 40 or so kids who lived on my street, instead of video games and surfing the web all day, you played sports. Outside. In the sun. Boys, girls, young, or old. It didn't matter. When you left the house in the morning until you returned sometime before dark, you lived and breathed sports. Oftentimes the entire day was consumed with things like baseball, football, badminton, or even croquet. Except on Saturdays at 3:30. That's when we all headed inside for a little break to watch "The Wide World of Sports." It was ESPN before ESPN. This was where I learned about the boxer Cassius Clay, later Muhammad Ali. Where I watched golf and became a fan of Arnold Palmer. Where I spent Saturday afternoons watching stuff like barrel jumping, figure skating, auto racing, and of course, the lumberjack championships. In short, if you could compete, Wide World of Sports covered it, all hosted by Jim McKay. McKay was also the voice of the Olympics for ABC Sports, winning an Emmy for his coverage of the 1972 Munich Massacre. Jim McKay died this week. His voice forever silenced for all of us. But I can imagine that somewhere in the heavens today at 3:30, the games will begin. Athletes from all time will once again hear the opening music and the familiar catch phrase "Spanning the globe to bring you the constant variety of sport… the thrill of victory… and the agony of defeat… the human drama of athletic competition… This is ABC's Wide World of Sports!" And while those athletes ready themselves for a little celestial competition, all the regular folks will sit down, grab a cold one, and wait to see the skier dude crash one more time. Jim McKay, rest in peace. You will be missed.

A True American Hero

On Mikes America, some of us have had a little back and forth on whether liberals or conservatives are more likely to lie. Jack Lucas died yesterday. He was 80 years old. But when he was 14, he lied about his age and joined the Marines to fight in World War II. He became the youngest person to be awarded the Medal of Honor, by President Harry Truman. I am not sure whether he was a liberal or a conservative, but what he did was heroic. And since I am off to Oaxaca, Mexico for a few days, I'll have more when I return. Here is the introduction to his story. Jack Lucas, who forged his mother's signature on an enlistment document so he could join the military at 14 during World War II and who became the youngest Marine to receive the Medal of Honor, has died. He was 80. Three years after joining the Marines, Lucas was stationed at a supply depot in Hawaii when he stowed away on a ship headed to Iwo Jima because he was afraid he would never see combat, he later recalled. On Feb. 20, 1945 -- six days after he turned 17 -- Lucas was fighting Japanese soldiers in a trench during the Battle of Iwo Jima when he dived on top of two grenades and pushed them deep into the beach's volcanic ash to shield three other Marines from harm. Read the entire article.

Barack Obama Wins Democratic Nomination

"...we may call ourselves Democrats and Republicans, but we are Americans first. We are always Americans first." Senator Barack Obama, Democrat, Illinois, Candidate for President