Racism and Profit Grabbing

What do these two pictures have in common? They both feature men that have a shameless need for attention, and when the situation calls for it they are more than happy to bring race into the equation to get it.

By the time that you are old enough to read this blog, I sincerely hope that racism is eradicated and this whole post won't make sense. But, I really doubt that. Racism is part of our great American fabric. It has been since back in the day when one race could lawfully own another. We have come along way since then. Now blacks and other minorities are celebrities, office holders, and amongst the wealthiest of people in the USA. At one time black people had to have separate bathrooms.

(At this point I acknowledge that I probably should be using "African Americans" or some other adjective, but I have never understood that. Most black people have not been born in Africa, just as I as a "Euro American or Danish American" was not born in Europe or Denmark. What the hell is a white African who has American citizenship supposed to call themselves? I am the 4th or 5th generation of my family born in America, so why would I be a Danish American? I am American, and I happen to be white, or Caucasian, or whatever. Hopefully your generation will just be Americans and we can leave it at that.)

Back to the separate bathrooms and race relations. I never understood the whole separate bathroom thing. Did black people at that time have a different size poo? If that was the case I can kind of understand that. Maybe they had bigger poo and had to have bigger plumbing. Maybe their poo was smaller so you could save a few bucks with a smaller pipe. I don't know, but I bet it would have been more cost efficient to just use the bigger poo sized pipe so all people could make poo together. We should have consulted the economically poo sized Jews, they would have never made such a poor financial decision, and they would have hired those hard working medium sized poo Mexicans to install it a cheaper rate.

There are still influential people making money, and empowering themselves using racism as a tool. I am taking two recent examples from very powerful people to illustrate this point. They aren't the only ones, but they fit this purpose.

"His feelings of betrayal personify a slave master mentality," Jesse Jaskson said in a statement, "(Gilbert)sees LeBron as a runaway slave."

Dan Gilbert in this case is the "slave master." He's the (white) guy that owns the Cleveland Cavaliers and once employed (black guy) LeBron James. After LeBron left Cleveland for Miami, Dan Gilbert wrote an open letter expressing his dismay. Was it racially toned? No. It sounded like a guy who just lost his biggest star that he had built everything around. It sounded angry and perhaps a bit petty.

Jesse Jackson thought his comments were a great time to point out the similarities between slaves and NBA stars. Really Jesse? There are people that get pissed in business deals all the time and say things about former employees. The big difference here is that the "slave" made millions of dollars, was the face of the franchise, and was what the whole organization was built around. Slaves were beaten,traded as property, and had no rights. If anything, LeBron was more a hot chick that dumped Dan Gilbert and broke his heart. But calling LeBron a hot chick would not have incited the holy anger of the media and put Jesse Jackson in the spotlight. That is how the Rev. Jesse rolls. It's more important for him to be in the news than to make sense. He's a liberal hate mongering asshole who uses a touchy subject to stay relevant. But he's not alone.


"That cracker made a lot of African-American millionaires," Rush Limbaugh said of Steinbrenner, "And at the same time he fired a bunch of white guys."

Rush Limbaugh is also the kind of kind who uses race at will to drive numbers. George Steinbrenner recently passed away. He was the owner you loved to have, and the other teams owner you loved to hate. He turned the Yankees from the team you hated, to the team you loved to hate because they won a lot. Rush is a guy that worked in baseball, and yet at the death of a legend (whom I don't care for but respect) he decided to bring race into it. Why? He wanted numbers. He wanted to be talked about. He wanted people to turn in to his next show to hear what othere crazy shit he had to say. Read the quote and find one other meaning. The guy wanted attention so he played the race card. Limbaugh is a conservative hate mongering asshole using race to stay relevant.

The race card in America is the equivalent of putting a turd in a punch bowl. It's bound to elicit a reaction, and it is only used to make everyone uncomfortable. If I have one hope for your generation it is to eradicate racism, and hatred in general. Race, gender, and even sexual preference are no reason to judge a person. There are a multitude of reasons within people's control to hate them for. Wait for them to give you a more personal reason. Those who deserve it will give you plenty.

By the way, a cop asking for proof of residency is not racist. It's common sense.

The Crib

By now you may have realized that I have spent a bit of time working on a crib for my son. What is to follow is a very long, and potentially boring post about the actual construction of it. But what the hell, this is my damn blog and I will do what I want. I mean really, I have 2 followers and one of them is bound by vows before God to love me.

This has been a true labor of love. There have been countless hours spent around the kitchen table "designing" with my wife, countless hours at the shop with my dad building it, a much appreciated cameo and work day by my brother Gabe, and unaccounted hours by my dad figuring out how the hell to make Ash and I's cluster of an idea into a reality. At this time I have to say, THANK YOU DAD!

The main aspect of my design was Ash and I looking at other pictures, and going to look at cribs, and then saying, "Dad, I like this part of this, this part of this, oh.. and about this big." From there we left it to dad and his amazing ability to take a few scrambled thoughts and make it into a plan. If you haven't seen his website yet check out www.classiccustomwood.com. The man is amazing and his ability to figure this stuff out is unreal. He keeps telling me that I have built this crib, but trust me when I say that it would have been a box with some slats and a lot of screws without him. Thanks again, and again, and again.

I told Ash to pick a color for the stain on the wood, actually the dye, because dad is a woodworking ninja and doesn't use stain. When I dropped this box in front of Ash and Grandma Kelly I think their heads almost exploded. There are roughly 80 choices, and I gave them about 1 week. Then I laughed a diabolical laugh. Ash came through though. She is getting used to me and my time lines. (This was actually when I made the dresser and the changing table a few weeks ago, but everything has to match so the dye used for them will be used for the crib. I will post pics of the other projects later.)

So, to start, here are the plans I gave dad. Really, a cut out pic, a few scribbles, and a couple notes. Not only did I expect him to make it all work, but also to deal with me as I explained it. I really wish I had a picture of Gabe, Dad, and I standing around trying to figure out the best way to put it together. It would be priceless.

Funny Story: Gabe, Dad, and I were trying to figure out how to do the adjustable shelves. We considered using shelf pegs. At this point, Gabe and I have no kids and Dad's youngest is 29. We are trying to figure out how much weight this will have to hold. I can't remember who said it, "Well, the kid won't be more than 100 pounds right? Well, maybe 50 at the most? It has to be pretty strong to hold that much weight. " Turns out kids are out of the crib around 30 pounds. 100 pounds is like 7th, 8th, or maybe 9th grade.... even later if it's a girl getting her first license. .. woops. We figured it out after about 7 different ideas. We will get to that later. Trust me though, it will be able to hold the full 100. Our ongoing joke is that if there is a tornado we will hide under the crib. It's going to be stout.

It took a couple hours to figure out how to make it adjustable, and how to make the sides all connect without showing how. Correction, a couple hours, a ton of debate, a few more scribbles, and a few Natty Lights for dad and I. I think Gabe lost a few hairs in the process (that's because Gabe is going bald and I am only kinda going bald... so far).

Next we took a stack of lumber and started turning it into pieces. First we planed it all down using dad's machine, then sanded using the drum sander, chopped it down using a chop saw, and ripped it to width using the table saw. Pictures? Sure.

Dad's machine planing:
This machine is basically a really big router hooked up to a computer that tells it what to do. In this case you just lay boards down and it goes back and forth making everything the same thickness. This takes some time, and it is boring as hell.

Then we sand the boards using the drum sander.
Note the use of the stands in front, there is also one in back. That is because it's hard to hold a 10 foot board even as it goes through, and if you don't you get awful sanding marks and it kills the machine. You think this post is boring? Run 200 board feet through and then talk to me. The good news is that this saves a lot of hand sanding later.

Here's me hand sanding with a DeWalt Random Orbital Sander.
This tool is my best friend and worst enemy. It is a great tool, and it is way better than actual hand sanding, but it sucks so bad. I should post this pic at least 14 more times to give you an idea of how much time we spend together.

Then we chop it to length using the chop saw, for those scoring at home it is actually a compound miter saw. This is a simple tool that costs alot and is awesome. Just a great piece of machinery. (DeWalt Company: Call me! I will make you a regular feature, and I get like 4 visitors a day! That should help you sell.... never mind that. Just sponsor me. It will be all worth while.)
You can see the hood built around it here. Dad has everything in the shop hooked up to the most bad ass dust collection system known to man. There is no way to get a good pic of it, but trust me. When used correctly you can work all day and not have hardly any sawdust on the ground. Also, it provides the shortest measure of time in the world. The time between when you start cutting and dad either hits the dust collection system or screams "SUCKER!" The denim dude takes his dust collection seriously.

Then we go to the table saw to rip boards to width. There is not a tool in the shop that scares me more than the table saw. I have never yelled at my mother in my adult life, but I came damn close the day that she goosed me while I was running a board through the table saw. Why? I am the only Jorgensen man with all ten fingers. Both Gabe and Dad have cut off part of a finger with a table saw or come close. Gabe did, and we had a terrifying drive to the hospital to follow. I drove 90 MPH to the hospital in a Ford Taurus while Mom screamed from the house, "Just wait, I gotta pee!" Mom has priorities. Mom got left behind that day. Mom will also probably cut off my Christmas gifts after reading this. Sorry Mom. If was funny, at least once Gabe was OK it and the blood was cleaned up it was funny. Anyways, here's the table saw. Respect the table saw. It will cut your damn finger off.

Next up we cut the mortis's... mortisi... mortisses... I don't know. We did this on the machine. Dad programmed it so everything would be perfectly even. These will hold the slats in place so when the kid is yanking on them they won't go anywhere.

So the slats fit in between two of those glued together (pictured below). Everything fit together perfect with a bit of sanding. Always sanding.... oh my Lord, always sanding. You have no idea how cool that is to be able to be that precise. It's all because a few Jorgensen men got together in a mind meld. Then Dad programmed the machine to make it so.

Featured here are several types of clamps including C clamps, Quick Grip Clamps and Jorgensen clamps. Those are the good looking ones on the end. Seriously, they are called Jorgensen clamps. This is an example of how things of all colors, sizes, and shapes can work together for a common good. Some are more useful than others and some are more effective than others. They all have a purpose. It's late, but at one point I was going to make a correlation to race relations and what an asshole Jessie Jackson is. But I am tired now. I swear I had a good point. Fill it in here ________________ and think about how insightful I am. Make sure that insight includes Jesse Jackson being an asshole.


Here's a pretty picture of dad running stuff through a table saw. It's a side rail after being glued up getting ready for another set of machining.
Now the side rails. I can't tell you how cool these are yet. You will see, but here is a cut out in process. (working on that, turns out that shooting in HD is great, right up until you have to load it to youtube to link to your dumbass blog and then have to wait about 2 hours to get a video that is 6 minutes and wish was only 1 but are too lazy to figure out how to cut the video.*)

A note on the side rails, and the love of a father. After Ashley and I had looked at a lot of cribs, somewhere between 5 and eleventy billion, it was decided it must have "swoopy side rails." I told Ash that we could do it. Then I called dad. He said, "sure we can do that." The man is a glutton for punishment because he has to program the machine to do it. A man with no training has to figure out how to make a machine do this using video game software, then convert that code to a CAD software, and then convert it to a code that a machine can read using Thermwood's software. Have a headache yet? I do. My part is easy. I say, "Yeah babe, we can do that." Then I call dad and let him work. He had to have had at least 10 hours of programming in the side rails alone. Why did he do it? Because he is Ray F'n Jorgensen and you are damn right he can, and will for his daughter-in-law. He's the man. He also builds custom kitchens. www.classiccustomwood.com

Here is dad sanding on the side rail cap. He offered and I looked busy because I didn't want to do it.

Here are the two pieces of the final rail ready to be glued together. It should look really cool when it's done.
That concludes this first part of the mega post. If you are still reading at this point I thank you. I wonder what the hell is wrong with you to still be here, but I do thank you. Stay tuned for the next post.

I am trying to make a "legacy piece" that can be handed down from myself and my father to my kid, and to his kid, and his kid. I couldn't do it without my dad. I am so happy to have the chance to do this with him. The hours together have been priceless (that's code for Dad: I can't pay you). I can't help but think about the next generation as we work on it, and even what my Grandpas would think if they were still here. Stay tuned for the next post... or two. It all depends on how next weekend goes. We are already at 5 weekends, so what's a couple more.

*DAMN YOU YOUTUBE just got notice that the download failed and it's late. I will work on that another time, but it's a cool video of the side rails being cut out. The machine is all up and down and swoopy and cool. I bet you are dying with anticipation.*

OK, Mom Wins

This blog is full of dick jokes and abuse of the English language. Your mom's blog is full of well written "I love yous" and good intentions. This time she bridged the gap. And damn it, she did it well. Here is her latest post.
For those scoring at home... www.jorgensenbettertogether.blogspot.com
The pics didn't copy, but the words did. The words didn't need the pic anways. I hate it when she makes me look bad. What follows is a post from my better half. Half of the couple, and most of the talent. Enjoy.


What you can learn from the ESPYS
"Our country is the only one in the world with a national anthem that ends with the two words, 'Play Ball!'"
-Anonymous

Because you are a little boy and will grow up surrounded by men who love sports (unless, that is, you spend all your time with Grandpa Ray), and will probably find the majority of my blog posts sappy and 'girly,' I thought I would try my hand at a more testosterone-driven post. I don't know how possible this is, since your mom is about as far from a 'tomboy' as one may get, but I do pride myself in accepting, appreciating, and even loving one of America's greatest pastimes...

I used to know a lot about sports. Thanks to my dad and brothers, I could tell you the entire lineup for the Minnesota Twins and the San Francisco 49ers. I loved looking at Jordan's baseball card collection, went through a spurt when I paid attention to the NBA (thanks to a collection of NBA inspired pencils we had at home), and even used to pick and race our favorite stock cars on a wooden ramp Dad set up in the basement. I had a thing for Torii Hunter and Ken Griffey Jr., and spent careful time considering which Starter pullover coat to buy from Scheels (sadly, you will probably never own your own 'Starter' coat).

Then, I graduated high school and moved in with three other girls. During my four years of college, I paid very little attention to sports. When I started dating Beau, every now and then, I would spout off a little bit of my sports knowledge, to which Beau, although impressed, would inform me that my comment was a little 'out-dated.' He started referring to my sports knowledge gap as the 'Black Period,' a time when I failed to get the message that Jerry Rice was no longer a 49er and Kurt Warner had left the Rams.

There is a reason we live in a country that eats and breathes sports. The thrill rides, the Cinderella stories, the adrenaline rush, and the awe-inspiring role models that filled the room Wednesday night at the ESPY awards made me proud to live in the country I do. It’s not every day you see an athlete from UNI in the same room as one of the greatest quarterbacks to play the game. Whether it’s a State Championship win in Des Moines, a Super Bowl title five years after its stadium was used to house thousands of displaced hurricane victims, or a second-margin record breaking win at the Winter Olympics, sports have a way of bringing people together…showing us that anything is possible and creating moments that will be etched in our minds forever.

So...whether you decide to play sports, watch sports, or ignore sports and take up the fine arts (one can do both too), there are lessons that everyone can learn from the game. Funny that these lessons have nothing to do with Lebron James and his decision to play for the Miami Heat, or Tiger Woods and his latest gossip headline. These lessons are from real heroes, and have nothing to do with fame, fortune, or contract deals.

1. Sportsmanship...While you may hear your dad refer to the quote, 'you play to win the game,' I believe sports is much more than who wins the game or who breaks the record. Take Armando Galarraga as an example. After umpire, Jim Joyce's blown call to ruin Galarraga's perfect game on June 2nd of this year, Galarraga did the unthinkable. No, he didn't raise a conundrum, scream at the umpire and create a scene only fit for reality TV. No, he did not seek to become the spotlight in the multiple media coverages that followed the event. And no, he didn't even demand retribution. He simply smiled, shook the hand of the man that ruined his perfect game, and lived the sometimes painful lesson that 'everyone makes mistakes' with grace. Being a good 'sport' goes far beyond the field. It's about realizing that everyone is human. It's about being happy for others. One of my favorite sports quotes sums up 'sportsmanship' far more than I could...

"I've missed more than 9000 shots in my career. I've lost almost 300 games. 26 times, I've been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I've failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed."

-Michael Jordan

2. Anything is possible. Take the 2010 UNI Panthers Men's Basketball team. Seeded ninth in the NCAA March Madness Tournament, the Panthers had to play #1 ranked Kansas. Even the die-hard Panther fans weren't about to choose them over Kansas when creating their brackets. Wednesday night, however, Coach Ben Jacobson, and graduates, Adam Koch and Ali Farokhmanesh, stood among Drew Brees, Terrell Owens, and the U.S. Soccer Team to accept the award for 'Best Upset' at the ESPYS. Looking star-struck and completely freaked out, the three men stood among thousands and dedicated their award to none other than WATERLOO/CEDAR FALLS!!! They were star-struck and so were all of the proud Cedar Valley'ians' glued to the TV.


Best moment...although Coach Jake's joke about Ali wanting to 'shoot' the basketball trophy bombed with the audience (a true cricket moment), everyone in Iowa 'got it.' While we were laughing back home, Jacobson's face turned a shade of pink and I thought Ali looked a little horrified!

3. Courage. It's a word that's difficult to define, let alone live by. But by the words of Aaron Thomas, sometimes we have to pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and keep playing. Perhaps no one had learned this lesson more last year than the family of Ed Thomas. You will hear of Ed Thomas someday, not because he coached at the 'Sacred Acre' in Parkersburg, just 10 miles south of my hometown, but because of his story and the legacy he has left behind. Murdered by one of his former players during a summer weightlifting session with his team, Ed's wife, Jan, and sons, Aaron and Todd were forced to pick up the pieces of their life without their father in it. But they did more than rebuild their own family. Just as their father helped rebuild the small town after a devastating tornado in May 2008, the Thomas family sought to rebuild a football team, as well as their relationship with Mark Becker's family, a family torn apart by guilt and grief. As they stood up on that stage amidst a tear-filled audience, I believe they taught even the biggest stars a lesson that night...a lesson of faith, family, forgiveness, and football.

4. Character. Character is not about being deemed the 'greatest golfer of all time,' or the 'richest man in sports.' It's about a golfer winning the sport's most renowned tournament and instead of acknowledging his victory, he acknowledged the strength of his wife, struggling and battling through breast cancer. While Tiger Woods deals with his identity crisis, or what others have ridiculously coined, "sex addiction," Phil Mickelson has his priorities in check. Now, I don't know a whole lot about Phil Mickelson; however, I do know he hasn't made the same headlines his rival has. Character is not about wins or losses; it's about how you play the game...the game of sport or more importantly, the game of life.

So there you have it...an utterly long-winded post about sports from an on-again, off-again sports fan. As far as the Ron Santo, Chicago Cubs life lessons??? I'm leaving those up to your father ;).

Friendship

Here are two of my very best friends. You will think they are uncles, and in a sense they will be. They are good as blood to me. They aren't alone however.

Outside of family there is nothing more than that will shape you as a person as much as your friends will. I have been lucky enough to be blessed with a group of friends that has backed me through everything from an insecure high schooler, to a an over secured college grad, to a new family man.

Friends are family with a screening process. When you find real friends, good friends, lifelong friends you will find that there is nothing as unique or valuable other than family. If you play your cards right you will find yourself at home everywhere you go.

Whether it's the high school friends you love to catch up with, the college buddies that you wish you could spend more time with, or the business partners that you grow your business with you will find that sense of belonging that comes with having people that know your faults and love you despite them. No matter where you find them, or how many experiences you have you will find that they are the people you turn to no matter how long it's been.

So take the time, keep in touch, and put forth the effort. You never know when you will need a laugh, a referral, or support. Good friends are easy to find, as long as you are a good friend first.

Follow Me Damn It

You might ask yourself, "Why should I follow this poorly written blog that uses a post of Charles Manson to get my followership?" Good Question.

The answer is because I am very ego-driven and self concience so I need the assurance that I am doing this blog for a reason. Need another reason? Well... I don't have one. Just follow so I feel good.

The Guy You Pick On

http://www.inc.com/30under30/2010/profile-lukas-biewald-chris-van-pelt-crowdflower.html

Once upon a time, in a land far away named Spencer, I picked on a guy I called Fatty. Now I call upon a good friend of mine called Chris VanPelt because I think he is inspiring. That is the lesson of high school. A guy that is a bit rotund and someone you find to be a target for your immaturity can become a guy that is no longer large... or someone to laugh at. He is a man to be respected. For many reasons.

I once found myself to be very cool. I once thought that my good looks, charm, and wit were unsurpassed and would lead me to greatness. I now know that I am very average looking, not that charming, and my wit is more common than outstanding. I know now that the ones I laughed at were just ahead of the curve.

CVP has made something of himself, and done so on his terms. He has wild hair, an ecletic style, and set the rules as he has grown his business. He is in a sense, the American Dream. A self made man from a simple upbringing who has blazed his own trail in the world. And to think, I once referred to him as "Fatty" and punched him between sets in plays we were in.

This post isn't to glorify him, or to try to set right past wrongs. It's to try to teach you to not think you are better than others. It's to teach you that others might have a better way. It is to tell an old friend that I am proud of him and what he has accomplished . It's to tell you that my way isn't always best and that there is always another way of doing things.

Consider this a recommendation. Consider this a warning. Consider this a how to acheive. I am proud of an old friend that I tried to put down at a dumber time in my life. Now, I am just proud that he is my friend.

Fight or Flight

I want you to be a manly man. I want you to be a man of honor. I do not want to pick you up from jail, or the hospital.

Hollywood and American society in general do a great job of showing how when a man's back is up against a wall he must fight. Fight for honor, fight for pride, and fight to show your manliness. What they don't show very often is how the hero wades into a fight only to be shot, stabbed, or permenantly scarred. The fact is that for every one-on-one manly fist fight, there are a hundred where the supposed hero ends up getting killed, or at least jumped by a crowd. I want you to be a man, but a smart man. Most times it makes more sense to avoid the fight than take it head on.

There are a few times when a man must fight. This should be a last resort. I know that doesn't sound manly, but it is very true. The only acceptable times to fight are as follows:

When attacked.
When your girl is attacked.
When a prize fighter in a sanctioned event.

That's it. You don't get fight clearance for being insulted, for your family getting insulted, or even when a friend is attacked... at least not right away. If you do find yourself in a fighting situation I want you to follow a simple protocol. CHEAT. Since you are only fighting as a last resort your goal should be to vacate the situation as fast as possible. Here are your targets. Throat, junk, eyes, and then knees. Forgo honor in the name of self preservation. The best strategy for a fight is to get the hell out of it and then call the cops. No one gets a glory card for having a criminal record unless they are a criminal. If your girl is attacked add the bit about getting her out of there with you before calling the cops. If anyone insults your family just know that we have thick skin. We would rather have you not shot and pride wounded than prideful and paralyzed.

If your friend is attacked, well... call the cops then join in... if you must. Then start the process of elimination. Do your throat punches, nut jabs, eye gouges, and knee bucklers and try to get out of there. This is not a good situation. Even better than backing up your friend? Don't be friends with fight guy.

I won't spend much time on the prize fighter aspect because I plan on being a good dad. Prize fighters and strippers often have the same type of fathers, and I will never let my future daughter buy lucite heels either.

If you do get in a fight and I find out that you were the instigator we will deal with that too. I will pick you up from jail and give you directions home. According to Mapquest.com that is about 4.4 miles. You will want to make a wider route since that route goes through several areas where there will be plenty of people ready to fight. I will follow in a car with locked doors to make sure that you are safe, but far enough back that the fear of God will be alot closer. Also keep in mind that the 4.4 miles assumes we don't move to Cedar Falls as planned. It gets one hell of a lot further at that point.

Keep that in mind before you get all tough guy.

Ron Santo

Ron Santo is my hero. I have never met Ron and I probably never will. That doesn't change the fact that I think the dude is an inspiration and someone to look up to. He doesn't know it but we have spent many afternoons and evenings together.

Ron Santo was, is, and always will be a Chicago Cub. Sure he had a season or two with another team, but he bleeds Cubby Blue. He had a Hall of Fame Worthy career as a player, has his number retired, and is the best color man on radio for my money.

Back in the day Ronnie was the 3rd baseman for the Chicago Cubs and he was the finest of his generation. Why isn't he in the Hall of Fame? Media people are stupid. I tried to find more eloquent wording there but sometimes you have to say it like it is. He did this all while dealing with diabetes. That might not sound like much now, but back in the day the medical community knew as much about diabetes as you will about cooties during elementary school. While you are fogging the area with invisible cans of "Cootie Spray" he was eating Snickers bars between innings trying to balance out his sugar levels. They didn't have the little blood sample kits, they didn't even know what the hell to look for if they did. They just knew that some people got all whacked out sometimes and a candy bar seemed like a good thing for it... Really. Science has come a long way. I will save you the statistical argument on the matter, but just know that when you stack him up against his contemporaries he was one of the best. If not the best. The whole time he managed a disease that could kill you with Snickers and a hunch.

After Ron left the field as a player he had to deal with a lifetime of managing diabetes with candy bars. He had both legs amputated, a bunch of other illnesses, and a generally rough go of things for quite awhile. Did he give up and feel sorry for himself? Hell no, he wouldn't be my hero if he had. He gave up a few limbs, got a sweet hair piece and returned to the booth.

Jack Brickhouse, Harrey Carrey, and even Pat Hughes get credit as being the voice of the Chicago Cubs. I wasn't around for Jack. Harrey was awesome, and I love Pat Hughes and even Steve Stone. To me there is only one voice of the Chicago Cubs. It's the voice of a former player, a current broadcaster, and the biggest Cub fan in the world. Ron Santo. You could cut out the sounds of the crowd, Pat's play by play, and just listen to Ronnie and know how the game is going. You don't need the count, the men on base, or anything else. The "Aw Geez" and "COME ON" from Santo says it all. My favorite two stories about Ron.

On night at Shea Stadium, the Met's old park, Ron got too close to the heater. His wig lit on fire. Everyone in the booth gave him shit all game. Ron was the happiest person in the world when Shea got torn down.

I was listening to a game one day when Ron says, "Aw geez! I just realized why the Cubs are playing so bad! They don't have a second basemen!"
Pat Hughes, "Well Ronnie, Mark DeRosa just went to grab his sunglasses, and here he comes back to second base."
Ron. "Aw Geez, Sorry."

Listening to a game with Ron Santo is like listening to a game with your Grandpa that just lives and dies with the team. I never had a grandpa like that, but I always pictured it that way. You will have an experience like that with your Grandpa Curt, except that he likes the Twins and you will always know that it's stupid that they have a DH.

Ron might not be in the Hall, but those of us that understand who is is and what he represents couldn't care less. Ron has his number retired by his team, and the hearts of millions of us that love listening to the game with him, and all those that had the joy to watch him. So really, who cares what a bunch of fat sports writers think?

Ron Santo- Hall of Famer in my book, and my hero. Watch This Old Cub and you will understand why.

Doing What is Expected is a Start

In life there are times to do enough, there are times to do more than that, and the rest of the time you should try to really kick ass. There is nothing worse in the world to see someone with all the talent under the sun sell themselves short because they gave an average effort. A wise man once told me, "The successful do what the unsuccessful are unwilling to." That wise sage was none other than the man in denim, Grandpa Ray Jorgensen. Why was he saying this to me? Because for much of my life I was interested in being good, doing enough, and getting by. Why did this infuriate him? I could have done more. I could have gotten better grades, been a better athlete, and a better person over all. These days I am working all the time to close that gap between my results and my ability.

Most people, myself included at times, fall short of their ability in large part because it is easier to do so. Pushing yourself really cuts down on your TV/BBQ/Friends time. It is because of that the successful succeed and the average maintain.

This isn't just a business or school thing either. It's how successful you are in your family life as well. If you don't give 100% to your family it will suffer as well. I hope out of all of this endless babble I keep posting that you will realize that family is where it all starts. If life is good there, you will find that extra push to make sure your business, sports, or school falls in line as well. It's a matter of finding that little extra everyone else isn't doing and making sure that you are. If you ever need an example of that, just look at your mom. My Lord that woman fits a whole lot of day into a 24 hour cycle. Or look at your dad.... and then improve on that.

Please don't be one of those dead beats that says things like, "I provide for my family. I got a job. I pay my child support." Getting a C- minus in parenting gets your an F in life. That is great that these people do just enough to avoid jail. Congrats on fulfilling the very lowest level on the social contract. I hope that they are pleased. If Maury Povich ever calls, just know that you have failed in life. The end.

You don't have to be Warren Buffet, and you don't have to be Bill Gates. If you can be Ron Santo that will be good enough. Love what you do. Love those around you. Love who you are. But don't forget to kick ass in there. It will make everything a little better.

I will try to be a kick ass dad for you, at home and at work. Definitely on the T-Ball field as well.

Periodic Table of Meat

http://pleatedjeans.files.wordpress.com/2010/07/periodic-table-of-meat.png

Above is the periodic table of meat. If you want to see it more clearly just use the link above. It is a glorious catagorization of the best food in the world. Sweet glorious meat. In all forms.

I don't know what practical application this will have in your life. I don't even know why it's so cool. Just know that it is. Where is my Weber Grill when I need it?

Do Manly Things

Should you be in touch with your emotions? Yes. Just as long as those emotions are manly. I don't want you to ever look at GQ for fashion advice. I don't want you to look at paint samples unless you are trying to match the Cubs or Bears colors. I want you to be a man. A manly man. The list that follows are things that I think you should do, or find of interest.

Boobs- Let's start simple. Your original buffet becomes proof that god loves us.
Football- It's a rough sport with cheerleaders. A very manly combo indeed.
Rugby- Manly sport with an international flair.
Soccer- Just seeing if you are reading. Soccer is not manly.
BBQ- Smoke+Meat+hours killed with a beverage= Manly
Beer- Very Manly once it's legal for you.
Fashion- See Soccer
Frats- Not Manly, at all
Charcoal Grills- It's fire in a pure form
Travel-You can't make fun of peoples accents adequately until you hear them in person. Unless they are French.
French- The language, the people, the unconditional surrender... NOT MANLY
Fart Jokes- Manly Men love a good fart joke
Providing- A man takes care of their family
Baseball- Manly and an American tradition
MMA- So manly that only the unbalanced can succeed
Sales Jobs- It's like sports for those of us who can't be athletes
Friends- The only thing more important is family. Friends are like family with a screening process.
The Cubs- Harder to believe in than religion.
Bacon- Show me a man who doesn't love bacon and I will show you a man who has secret ovaries.
Home Improvement- A man takes care of their home, a real man does it themselves.
Steak- mmmmmmm...... steak..... so many types... so good
Fire- If we didn't have fire, we would be monkeys with less hair and better thumbs. Fire is good.
Power tools- I don't think that "He who dies with the most tools wins, " but I sure as hell believe that he who can't borrow those tools experiences hell sooner. Buy them when you can.
Being a husband- The manliest of all things. If you do that well the rest of life will fall into place. I did well. And finally....
Being a dad- I can't wait, and you still have 3 months to go.

Be manly, make me proud little embryonic dude.

UH OH

So your mom and I were getting ready to go to Texas to visit a couple of my friends from college and I headed upstairs to grab a book. I saw the above book on the shelf and remembered liking it so I threw it in the bag. On the flight from Minneapolis to Dallas/Ft. Worth I opened it up and started reading. I read the book on our honeymoon so it was a nice flashback to a great week. Then I realized that his book was kind of like my blog... except that it was written first and actually well written. So if you think that this blog is even kind of good, but would like to see what it would be like if I had talent or a mastery of the English language, you should read this book. It's awesome.

Sorry Brian Sack, I didn't realize I was basterdizing your idea until it was too late, and now I refuse to stop. I am a big fan.

Order it here:
http://www.amazon.com/Event-My-Untimely-Demise-Twenty/dp/006137430X?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1204729579&sr=8-1

The Pussification of America

There is a push in America, and it started with my generation's childhood, that everyone is special. Not just special, but SPECIAL! Everyone is a winner, everyone is is doing great, and everyone gets a ribbon. I hate to have to be the one to tell you, but you won't always win. Not everything you are going to do is award worthy. Sometimes certain people are just plain better at certain things than you. It hasn't always been this way. Back when John Wayne was president and Vince Lombardi was his VP, the USA used to celebrate winners. We are a country founded by and made great by people who weren't satisfied with being participants and not only wanted to win but rather dominate. There is something beautiful about not only leaving the field victorious, but also watching your opponent leave the field in shame. America didn't become the greatest civilization by playing for the tie.

Take sports for example. It used to be that two teams took the field and played it out until one team won. But then parents started worrying so much about having their precious little babies feelings hurt that everyone needed to have equal playing time. That's OK to a point, but as Herm Edwards says, "You play to win the game." Yes, at the lower levels of sport everyone needs to play to learn, but at the end of the day the best players should be on the field the most time. Is it always nice? No. But as much as needing to learn to play is important, learning to win is equally important. Why? Because this is America and American's are winners. It also helps kids learn that everything they set out to do might not be thier strong point. It frees them up to do other things, and the kids that have a talent the time they need to get better.

Some kids leagues don't even keep score any more. All because our precious kids shouldn't have to feel like losers. Too bad. That is why we play sports. It's competition. Maybe if we spent more time teaching our kids that it's ok to lose if they play hard we wouldn't have so many pouty kids. I promise you this buddy, Daddy will be keeping score. I won't be the crazy guy yelling from the stands, but I will keep score. In fact, I plan on being your coach part of the time, so we will play to win, and I will keep score regardless of the rules. I won't be crazy about it, I won't make the team run laps when we lose, and I will even let the fat clumsy kids play. We might need them to be lineman later in life after all. Don't worry, win lose or draw we are going for ice cream. I don't ultimately care what the box score is, but I will know what it was. We will play hard, try our best, and always go for the win. We will always play for fun first though.

And one last note. We will play for the win. The World Cup is just about over right now. Apparently in this perverted little game called soccer playing for the tie is acceptable. It's the world's game, but it sure as hell is not America's. If I ever see you flop and wait for a stretcher you better have something really wrong. We are not French for God's sake.

Not That Scary

The media is like a moderately attractive lonely girl at a party. They desperately want attention and will do what it takes to get it. Sure, Peter Jennings isn't going to unbutton his blouse and wink at you, but this is a metaphor... or a simile, I don't know which is which. I didn't pay attention in English class a whole lot. Back to the point.

You know what happens to media outlets when they are not getting attention? They turn into newspapers. They are forgotten about, replaced, and die off faster than child stars. It use to be that newspapers were in every home and office. Now you can only find them in hotel lobbies, public bathrooms, and stuffed into homeless peoples clothing as insulation. The ones in the lobby are much much cleaner so try to stick to them.

When you flip on the news you will immediately find out that all politicians are sex crazed power hungry zealots, there is a new plaque certain to wipe out mankind, and that all corporations are trying to crush the Joe Blow on Main Street (True, false, and only kinda true). There is no positive news reported because nothing good ever happens... except that isn't true either. Sex and violence sell in America. Good deeds and charity are too boring for us. It's the same reason you will eagerly listen to a story about a coworkers affair, as told to you by a third party, but can't remember your friend's new girlfriend's name to save your life. One is fun, one is boring. Unfortunately we are wired for the unfortunate and that is why it's reported.

So when you flip on Fox News and find out that Obama is the devil incarnate and that Nancy Pelozi is his satanic partner in doom keep in mind that they are shooting for ratings. Just like when you turn on CNN and find out that all Republicans hate minorities, the environment, and puppies. The only way for media outlets to gain your attention is to shout louder and scarier stuff than the next guy. If one has a an earthquake, the next has a natural disaster of epic proportions, and the the next will have "Rumbles of Apocalypse? Signs the World is Ending."

So keep in mind a few things when you turn to the media for answers.

1. What do they have to gain from this?
Are the dirty damn liberals at CNN bashing a Republican? Is Glenn Beck calling Obama a Nazi again? They both have an agenda. Keep that in mind. If they don't pitch to their target market they will lose their followers. If Rush Limbaugh says that he thinks that President Obama is doing a good job, his audience will flee faster than French people in the face of aggression. Same thing as if the comedian Al Franken ran for senate, or the professional wrestler Jesse "The Body" Ventura ran for Governor.... Seriously Minnesota? Both?

2. Are they screaming, "WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!" over a strain of the flu?
If so, breathe deep and know that they are all full of shit. One of my best vacations was to Mexico during the swine flu epidemic. Did I die, wear a mask, or even catch a cold? No, no, and no. But we did have a great resort with a room upgrade and a near empty pool to ourselves thanks to idiots in the media declaring Mexico a hot bed of Swine Flu. Do you know how many people died from the swine flu? Neither do the experts because it's just the damn flu. People die from the flu every year and always have. This one just had a catchy name and 24 hour news cycle to make it seem worse.

3. Are they reporting on the economy?
I seriously believe that my generation has seen two financial meltdowns of epic proportion in large part to the media telling us on a 24 hour news cycle that we are experiencing financial meltdowns of epic proportions. It's the power of positive thought in reverse. (Fun experiment. Hold out your arm and think negative thoughts. Try to push down your arm. Easy right? Now think about how great you are, and what wonderful things you can accomplish. Now push down... Not so easy huh?)
That is what the media does to our economy all the time. They keep telling us that the economy is fat, ugly, and no one loves it until we all believe it. God forbid the economy ever pledges for a Sorority or Frat. We'd all be screwed until pledge week was over.

4. So which news channel should you watch my son? I would never try to influence that. You will have to figure that out on your own free from my persuasion.

FOX NEWS






CNN