ONE MORE TIME

 In 1991 an assistant coach watching Jim Palmer throw a baseball said, “You’ll never get into the Hall of Fame with those mechanics.” Palmer replied, “I’m already in the Hall of Fame”.  The coach apparently did not recognize Palmer who was at that time attempting a comeback. When the season got underway Palmer took to the mound and quickly learned that a 75 mile an hour fastball was not good enough. He then did what he should have left alone in the first place, he retired.

       Knowing when to quit is a challenge. The field of washed up quarterbacks is crowded. Michael Jordan should have never attempted to become a baseball player. Boxers who try a comeback often get the hell beat out of them. I sometimes lament the late Andy Rooney for hanging on long after he ceased to be entertaining.  It is normal; someone who has had a storied career often reads his clippings and announces to himself that he can still do it. Rarely does it work. When the time comes to quit, it’s time to quit.

       So, who did not right? Certainly not Joan Rivers, or Newt Gingrich for that matter. The best example I can think of is Johnny Carson. His health problems aside, Carson knew that his clock had run out, so he quit. Had he hung around we would be looking at pictures of a dying, emaciated man soliciting sympathy and sadness. We have none of those pictures. Instead, when we see a story on Carson we see video of the entertainer at his best. Carson is long dead, but his memory elicits that impish smile that America loved for so long. My favorite Carson one-liner…”Never marry a girl who has had a fungus named after her.”  Even in death, Johnny Carson makes us laugh.

       I knew Jim Palmer when we lived in Baltimore. At that time professional baseball players did not earn obscene salaries and lived pretty much in neighborhoods where normal people lived. He was a nice guy who shopped for groceries at the neighborhood Giant, often with his two girls in tow. But I wish he had never attempted the comeback. He didn’t need to come back, he had already been where few men have gone. There was nothing more to gain other than what he had already. Is there a lesson here?

       When Channel 12 told me it was over, I had a hard time. We were at the top in the news ratings, no one else was even close. Was it really time for me to go??  I guessed it must be, that’s what 12 said.  But then I talked to 6 and 8 and they disagreed.  It was 8 that disagreed the most. WRIC-TV invited me to come on down and anchor once again. Excitement filled my aging veins. Perhaps Gene is not dead after all. This week I will find out. I will begin co-anchoring the 5:30 news with Amy Lacey. I will try to do what I did at 12 for 33 years. It may work, it may not. If it doesn’t, I will go away happy…knowing that I gave it all I had, even if it wasn’t enough. At least I’ll know.

  I will leave it up to Nielsen will measure my fastball.

 



SPAM

SPAM

       Most of you with good taste and self respect will reject this but….Spam tastes pretty good and I can present evidence to prove it. Spam has been on grocery store shelves since 1937. If it didn’t taste good it would not have been sold since….1937. Millions of people buy it, not because it is notorious, but because it tastes good. Slap on a little mayonnaise, tuck it between two slices of fresh white bread, and you have bodily sin in a sandwich. Eat enough of it and you will surely die. How do I know this? Well, every now and then when Ellie is out of town I will snag a small can of Spam from the grocery store and prepare it exactly as I have described. It causes guilt of course, but a little sin here and there doesn’t hurt anything. Usually I will attempt to rid my body of Spam residue by walking briskly around the block a second time. Can’t be sure that works, but it makes me believe it works.

Almost everything we buy comes with a warning label. All medicines of course. (Many medicines advertised on television casually mention that death is among the many possible side effects). When you buy gasoline at the service station the label on the pump may advise you not to drink it, or put a match to it. A baby stroller may have a label on it that advises you not to fold it up with the baby inside. The list goes on an on…but if Spam is so dangerous we should be warned about it. The tiny listing of ingredients is not sufficient. It should have a big warning similar to that found on cigarettes….consume at your own risk, then prepare to die.

 



CONCLUSIONS

A conclusion is a place where you stop thinking.

A college professor once defined common sense as that fund of opinion that everyone is expected to have. The definition seems good, but it also raises issues. Who is it that expects everyone to think the same way?  It is apparently all of us. Another teacher in my distant past said, if everyone disagrees with you, you are probably wrong. These two gems together seem to make sense. But common sense is often flawed.

History is made by men (mostly) who disagreed with the fund of opinion everyone held. Galileo comes to mind.  Conversely, there are those who take great pleasure in marching to a different drummer; they find delight in holding and expressing opinions that everyone rejects. I suspect that some of these people assume their departure from the norm identifies them as smarter than the rest. Perhaps, but not necessarily.

Then there are artists who presume to paint, but can’t.  Many of them are quite successful. That’s our fault.



GOBBLEDYGOOK

 

“In Richmond Public Schools, we utilize inclusive practices, a research-based approach, to support students with disabilities. This collaborate learning environment has at its foundation the general education curriculum, coupled with the accommodation and strategies that meet the needs of students with disabilities.”   -school official quoted in the Richmond Times Dispatch, July 18, 2012.

 

HUH!  As a former school teacher I can recall educators who draped themselves in a sea of  verbiage so elaborate that others assumed they must know what they were talking about.  

 



BLOOMBERG

BLOOMBERG

Dear Mayor Bloomberg. If people want to eat themselves to death that’s their business. You take care of the pot holes.

       The mayor of New York City proposed outlawing 32 ounce sweet drinks. The idea is of course silly, absurd on its face. This is a free country and no mayor, or anybody else, can impose limits on how much lemonade we drink. Having said that let us say this; the mayor’s ridiculous proposal has merit. It calls attention to one of the things millions of people do that makes them look like elephants. If it prompts thought, it is useful. If it prompts action New York might not have to widen its sidewalks after all. Obesity is a big problem in America. Anyone who has traveled to Europe knows that obesity is as uniquely American as is some other things we aren’t particularly proud of. Italians eat all that pasta yet manage not to look like whales.

       I can say these things because there is too much of me also. The mayor’s comment did at least make me think about it. Today at lunch, I will have unsweetened tea with my Big Mac.



WAS THIS REALLY NECESSARY?



ABORTION

ABORTION

 (unknown anchor looks gravely at the camera)

 The abortion issue this week at the General Assembly was settled, but not resolved.  Gene Cox has some observations.

 (gene looks at a different camera, as if knows something)    

 Generally speaking when a political leader comes down on either side of a hot button issue….he or she loses. That is especially true in religious maters, which this week meant abortion.

 (video of demonstrations and a nervous governor)

 Governor McDonnell could have avoided the no-win debate…he should have taken the opportunity to go on a trade mission to Cameroon.  An aide could have stayed behind and waffled for him.   What was going on at the Virginia State House provided wins only for John Daley and Saturday Night Live.  In the end, the reluctant abortion compromise pleased no one.  And it meant both sides could say of the Governor, he’s not really one of us. Not a good label for a possible Vice Presidential candidate.

 (gene again, as if he really intends to say something)

 The same common sense holds true for commentators. Do I have an opinion on abortion?  Of course I do. Would I tell you what it is? No way.  The chances are overwhelming that while some of you will like what I had to say, others would dismiss me as an idiot. I am not interested in being dismissed, or being called an idiot, and I’m not interested in telling anyone that they’re wrong….especially if I may be the one who’s wrong.  Absolute knowledge is a rare thing, despite protestations to the contrary.

            Next year the abortion issue will be back before the General Assembly because both sides are determined to resolve this matter once and for all.  They want to take another whack at it. But don’t hope for a resolution that pleases everyone. That, will never happen. 

And if asked, I will once again avoid a direct answer, because a made-up mind is not something I like to fool with.

 I’m Gene Cox.

 

 



STARVIN MARVIN

Boomer Magazine has put me on as a writer, I am flattered because Boomer is good stuff.  The Feb-March issue features the first column, Starvin Marvin. It is a true story flavored by thought worth pondering.  I will write something new for the  April-May issue, but until then enjoy Starvin Marvin and don’t hesitate to tell me what I don’t understand. 

Boomer is a free magazine, who can argue with that.  I don’t make a lot for writing my little stories, but I enjoy the opportunity.  In the coming months I may do a bit of commercial work, largely because I need the money. But WalMart is cutting back and my hoped for future as a greeter is no longer likely. When I retired one of the first things that I noticed was that regular pay checks stopped coming. I knew that would happen but didn’t really believe it. Oh well, poverty is highly overrated so I will sell a widget here and there.  As for journalism, I appreciate Boomer for giving me the opportunity to keep on keeping on.



Great American Novel

 The day I realized I could not write a great American novel was the day I found freedom from unjustified ambition.  With that thought, a few more like it, and a good plot, the novel might come to pass.  But it is not to be. “The Sunset Lounge” is the best I have, and except for a few appreciative readers, it never sprouted legs. But that’s ok. I have seen the mountain top and realized I am a valley dweller. For me now, there is peace in the valley. I will watch the assent of others and appreciate their work. I am a Twitter guy. I will tweet, taking refuge in a well coined thought now and then, and be flattered when someone finds value in my wordage.  Wordage, now there’s a word you don’t hear often.

Having lamented thus, I still say “The Sunset Lounge” is not a bad read.



DANICA

Danica Patrick has parlayed mediocrity into a small fortune.