Memes and other crap

MEME

Well, I've been tagged again. And I notice that Sloop keeps checking, so I'd better hold up my end of the deal...

Top 5 Childhood Memories

1. Laying in my room every night, watching the light cast on my ceiling from Mr. Butcher's driveway below. Mister Butcher, for some reason, would go out to his garage every night at about the same time (9-ish). On his way out, he'd turn on the area light, then go on back. He was old, so he walked slow and worked methodically, at least as far as I could see. I'd see him head out there, and then head back to his house about 10 minutes later, and the light would go out. Strangely, something about that routine made everything seem alright.
   
2. Laying in my other room (other side of the house), watching the searchlight on Rocky Butte swing around every night until it hypnotized me into slumber.
   
3. Spy Club with my friend, Aaron. Huge GI Joe geeks, we would pretend that we were powerful and skilled covert operatives. Attempting to fashion weapons out of common household items, agreeing on who was to be deemed good and evil, and relentlessy torchering Aaron's little brother, we (at least felt like we) owned the neighborhood.
   
4. Getting caught shoplifting. Actually, getting caught after shoplifting. As a kid, I was a little bit of a klepto. Once, I somehow managed to secret away a pack of dominoes from Fred Meyer's. Later, my mom saw me playing with it and asked where I'd acquired it. I tried to offer a good lie, but she wasn't biting, and I couldn't hold up in my youth to her scrutiny. She drug me back to the store, where I had to hand the dominoes to the horrified cashier, as I blubbered away and bawled to the point that I couldn't blurt out my pre-scripted admission and apology. My mom promised if she ever caught me with stolen items again, she'd send me straight to JDH. And I believed her...
   
5. The death of my dog. As a kid, I had a dobie named Abraham, who looked alot like my current dog, except with boy parts and a bobbed tail and redder fur. He was bought, I'm pretty sure, to be my step-dad's dog, but there was no mistaking that he was mine. We were fast friends, and we were inseparable. But he got some sort of cancer, and eventually one night my mom had to take him for one last trip to the vet. The kind he wouldn't be returning from. I remember standing out on my front lawn, crying and staring at the stars, asking God why my friend was being taken away. It was sad, but it's one of those things I won't be forgetting. It's the one thing that almost kept me from taking on the new pup...

Now I'm s'posed to tag 5 people. Mak, OC, Betsy, Denise, and JLowe, you're up...

OTHER CRAP

Haven't done much writing lately. What gives? A combination of not much to write about, and no real desire to write besides. Maybe it's the weather, maybe it's the fatigue of my new gym routine. Whatever it is, I just haven't felt like boring anyone with bad writing.

I'm guessing it will be reasonable to expect a bit of a slow-down for the next few weeks. Need to spend time with my pregnant Missus and my duties getting stuff ready. Not to say there'll be whole weeks with no writing. In fact, my hope is that when I do write, it'll be better than some of the drivel I put out when I'm pressing to just post anything (more my M.O. at the Metroblog, to be completely honest). So, by all means, keep checking back. Just don't be too shocked if I've taken the day off.

Speaking of, today was a beautiful Saturday. Went to the gym. Had some coffee. Spent time at another famous Halo competition with work buddies. Did some housework. And went to a lovely housewarming party.

By far, the best part of the day (sorry boys) was the party, where I got to hang out with a few of my favorite work friends.

There was CW and BT (not necessarily in that order...)


There was Hozay...


And, most importantly, there was The Missus (note the preggers-ness of her tummy!)...


A great day to be out and about.

Tomorrow, the river!

Catch ya later.

I love my puppy

I mean, really, how could you not love this face?

Must be summer...

Although some of us were, perhaps, fooled by the un-winterly warmth of February into thinking it couldn't get any hotter, or maybe there were some of us who believed the eventual March showers brought upon us a blotting out of the sun making February a brief "All Summer In a Day"-ish spell in a long, wet year, we now see the truth. The typical, hot, long Portland Summer has returned.

Last summer found me in the basement of my rental home, just beginning to step into the blogosphere, and lamenting the heat outside. Already, I expect general similarities between last summer and this one. Inside, check. On my computer, check. Basement, check (moved the office down to make room for the nursery). Blogging, check. Lamenting heat, here we go.

Man, it's hot outside. I know, as a typical Portlander, I'm a wuss about heat. My friend CW just got back from Vegas, where she reports temperatures as high as 116 degrees. What we have here is hot, but 116 degrees is hideous.

Despite our relative good fortune, I complain, because that's how God has wired me in this regard. This summer is superior to last in the sense that now we have central air, where last summer consisted of sleepless, ineffective-fan-using nights. And I've been able to reclaim my grill, which allows me to pump more heat into the atmosphere if I'm not quite miserable enough with the sweat rolling from my man-busoms.

The good thing about hot summers is that they force me back to the gym. Not only because I come to the realization that I'd be cooler without the seven inches of fat blanketing my entire person, but also because I remember that my gym is air conditioned, and thus avoiding it is foolish.

It's with that in mind that I started this year's annual fitness regimen yesterday. Got up, got dressed, and hauled my lazy butt to the gym for a short re-introductory workout. Nothing intense. Nothing hard. Just a reminder to my joints of what it feels like when I move them. I made it in this morning at 5 am, after dropping my wife off at work. So, with two days under my belt, I proclaim success in re-establishing the trend.

Before we got our dog, before we bought our house, there seemed to be more room in the schedule for working out. Now I've noticed that there's never enough time after work, and I've found it increasingly difficult to get away for a lunch hour. Which means I have to carve time from the unused early-morning bank that has, to this point, worked rather well for sleeping.

Ugh.

Along with all of this exercise, I've decided to re-instute culinary discipline in my life. Having tried two diets in the past year or so, and having had various degrees of success and satisfaction with each, I've opted to go back to the "Blood Type Diet" that helped me lose 40 pounds in my last effort. So, last night I had one last go at chocolate chip cookies and candy, and today I've eaten all sorts of healthy stuff that my body wishes to reject. Of course, this must mean I'm winning.

So, the heat outside, from which I'm cowering in fear, serves both positive and negative purposes. Besides helping my peaches on my peach tree to ripen, and helping my tomatoes to grow, the sun inspires me to lose weight so I can stop pitting out every shirt I wear within 20 minutes. But it also puts me in a sour mood, as I think about how I should be outside, and would be but-for the intense discomfort of the sweat drops in my eyes.

I hate this conflict.

Catch ya later.

Don't forget...

If you don't see anything new here, you can also see if I've got something new up over at the Portland Metroblog (link to the right ------> )

Ding, dong, the witch is dead!

Not a literal witch. Just the life-sucking, schedule-hogging witch of a case that I was handling that's kept me so silent of late. For those who don't know me well enough to engage me in friendly chit-chat, I've been tied up for the last couple of weeks doing major prep work on a big trial.

Big in the sense that it was a pretty serious case, and big in the sense that it was about two steps above anything I'd handled before. Or maybe three.

This case had been eating my free time. As you may have noticed, I posted the other day during a break in my work on a Saturday. Anyone who follows my Metblogs (link to the right) would see that, as I've been posting various pictures of Portland, several are near the downtown courthouse or (in the case of the 92nd/Holgate mural picture) on the way out to my office in Gresham. Out and about, lately, has meant, out, on my way in.

Anyway, as is typical in trial work, tons of time, sweat, preparation, late night pre-sleep plotting, early morning musing over how best to approach certain things, after work tapping away at my laptop preparing various arguments and questions, calling in witnesses to discuss what they can say, and all that sort of stuff was rewarded by defendants who decided to plea the case out at the last minute.

Which isn't to say I'm upset. I'm not. We got a good result in a not-so-straightforward case.

But, as I was telling my friends last night as they tried to get me out to the office softball game, God knows who has prepared and who hasn't, and He knows when you're just pretending to prepare, and if you goof off, He punishes you.

So, I stayed home to work on my trial.

The office softball team split their double-header, so all was not lost.

And my preparation was rewarded by a nice victory (though not the form I'd prepared for), as opposed to a grueling disembowling from the vindictive trial gods trying to teach me the importance of having my act together.

So, now, my evenings are freer. I can pop in more. I finally washed my dog today, and took her for a long-awaited walk. I'm going to do dishes and laundry tomorrow. Apparently, I've been scheduled to drive up to Ikea on Saturday.

Fun, fun, fun!

Anyway, I'm glad to be back. As I never take requests for blog discussion items, how 'bout this:

What, if anything, do you want to hear The Pieman's perspective on?

If I refuse to answer, I'll give you a rational basis for my decision.

Oh, and for Denise:

UPDATE ON PIE-BABY
I can't recall the last time I advised of the current state of pregnant affairs. So, here goes.

The Missus is now about 6 months in. She's got a delightful little tummy that, if I can ever sneak a picture of, will make it's way here for your enjoyment. Inside, our soon-to-be Pie-girl (her name will be "Stella") has started moving and kicking, but nothing that I can feel yet. I've started the habit of talking to the baby when I get up in the morning and/or when I go to bed at night. I'm getting very excited, as is my wife. Doctors expect her to pop out right around November 1st, so it's possible she could be a Halloween baby and share her birthday with our puppy. Everything's going swimmingly, and we're all quite happy.

Now that that business is done, I'm off to a softball game with the other team I play with. I'm happy to be able to go out there without having to consider whether I'm interfering with trial-prep time tomorrow for. Sweet relief.

Anyway, catch ya later.

Hi ho, hi ho

It's off to work I go.

Actually, already there. In case you're wondering at my remarkable lack of blathering of late, I've been wicked busy working on a case I'm taking to trial next week. So free time has been at a premium, and spent more with my wife and dog than with you.

Sad, but true.

Right now, I'm in my office, taking a short break from my business to pop in and give you some of my recently-promised opinionations.

LONDON BOMBINGS
This is sad. Very sad.

It makes me look back to the fairly recent past, to the history of terrorist actions that really mattered to us, and in viewing those I see where this may lead.

In September, 2001, we were attacked on four fronts by terrorists in our homeland. Two planes were steered into the twin towers of the World Trade Center, one pierced the Pentagon, and a fourth was, fortunately, brought down by brave passengers in a field in Pennsylvania, where it did little damage except the catastrophic devouring of the lives of the men and women on board.

That attack galvanized us to war. To wars, in fact. That attack led us to spring into Afghanistan, in the name of taking down a terrorist-harboring regime and searching out the people who'd done this to us. It led us into springing into action at home, taking a long, suspicious look at many aspects of our own citizenry as we eroded some of our freedoms in the name of protecting the greater good. And, right or wrong, it led us into Iraq, where the anti-terrorist fervor and fear of the next big thing was leveraged to bring our collective will to bear on extending ourselves in a siege upon old enemies.

It's clear that the 9/11-inspired war on terror has resulted in a mixed bag. On the good side, we've apparently created some form of pseudo-democracy in Afghanistan and Iraq, although both governments are not yet truly able to carry their own weight. We've clamped down hard on known terrorists, and knocked the wind out of the sails of many others, by creating an atmosphere that, although not entirely capable of stopping them, inhibits them to a large degree. We've escaped another attack on our soil. And Saddam Hussein and his evil regime are being held to task for their misdeeds.

On the bad side, America is divided on many fronts, as we continue to battle with eachother not just in terms of what wars we should be fighting as we battle terror, but also how they should be fought. People tear at eachother's idealogical throats, both sides finding different ways to smear the other with the label of "unpatriotic," which has replaced the age-old "C" word (not communist, thinking much more crass) as the ultimate disparagement. Men and women are dying on foreign soil at the hands of some of the very people they are trying to help, and at the hands of others who would attack their own countrymen simply to kill two or three of us.

And governments that have helped us have paid a price as well.

I was in Italy when the Madrid train bombings occurred. I recall the intense reaction in Europe, and I recall watching the elections in Spain swing far from the expected as people reactedto what had occurred in exactly the way it is assumed the terrorists wanted. They threw out the current government, elected a new, pacifist regime, and shortly after Spain announced its impending withdrawal.

Of course, the US and Britain used the Madrid bombings as a rallying opportunity. A further justification for action. And the capital provided by that event has helped in the pursuit of the War on Terror, as America's collective recollection of our seething anger has faded in the 4 years since the WTC was brought down.

Now, England has joined the club. Britain is used to terrorist acts, but these seem to have a different feel to them. Whereas classic British terrorism revolves around a home-grown idealogical rivalry based, at least nominally, on the oppression in various places of certain "Christian" groups (I'm probably over-simplifying, here), this new terrorism is meant to strike at all British people, simply to shock them into inaction or withdrawal.

I'm willing to bet that a very frank national discussion will be held there, and a flurry of diplomacy between the US and Britain will ensue as we try to keep them in the war, even as their people start to question whether the outcome in Iraq and elsewhere is worth the price paid at home.

Whatever the outcome, this much is clear to me: the war on terror must be fought. It will either be fought on our soil or someone else's. It is being fought on both right now. What is key is to ensure that we don't create new terrorists while destroying the old ones. American (and British) goodwill must be dolled out in equal or greater doses than American vengeance. People must understand that we are only doing what is necessary for our good and the good of all others, but at the same time we truly care about those we're fighting among, and will do everything we can to improve their lives while we are with them.

I am Pollyanna.

By the way, am I the only one to notice each attack consisted of four targets? What, if anything, does that mean?

BLAZERS COACH
I was shocked to hear that the Blazers were able to lure Nate McMillan away from Seattle. Of course, deep pockets will do that for you.

At first, I didn't know what to think. Wasn't this the same old problem over again? We'd just rid ourselves of a "players' coach", a former player who'd taken the next step, and struggled along the way, in Mo Cheeks. Nate McMillan is another former guard who is known to identify with players and to work well with them.

This same concern was why I was convinced that, as likeable as he is, Terry Porter wasn't going to be our next coach. Nor should he be. Terry, in my opinion, still needs to develop. I'd personally like to see him as an assistant on our bench.

I have to admit I was hoping the McMillan deal would fall through so that we'd get Marc Iavaroni. Although he doesn't have NBA head-coaching experience, his reputation as a teacher, and the fact he's always approached the game from a coaching standpoint and not a player standpoint, were both important plusses to me. And coming from the Spurs speaks highly of him.

Anyway, when I first heard about McMillan, I was puzzled. It didn't help that I've been in a conference all week, and was unable to really gather any details. But last night and today, I've reflected on the hire and I like it.

Sure, McMillan has been up and down as a coach. I look, though, at what he did last year with a difficult roster, and it's clear that something clicked. Maybe it was just in him; maybe it was between him and his squad. Whatever. It's clear that this guy can coach.

Further, although he's an ex-player, having someone who's known as a tough disciplinarian is a plus with our current squad. I look forward to seeing how Zach and Darius, my least favorite players, react. Either we'll see a whole-sale turnaround in one or both of them, or the implosion will be spectacular and provide me with great fodder for future posts.

Either way, there's definitely reason to be excited about the coming season.

Now, it remains to be seen what changes are made on the roster. Damon's gone. Shareef's gone. Van Exel will be gone. With this hire, it looks like Patterson will be salvaged, meaning (in my opinion) that Derek Anderson will be dumped under the new CBA's amnesty provision. So, our team basically looks like this:

C: Przybilla; Ratliff; Ha
PF: Randolph
SF: Patterson; Miles; Khryapa
SG: Outlaw; Webster; Monya
PG: Telfair; Jack

Once at a log-jam at PF, we now clearly need to pick one up. I'm in favor of bringing in Brian Grant for the vet's minimum as a back-up, if all pans out and the Lakers waive him. But we'll need another warm body there for the inevitable break-down of Randolph in the early-to-mid season and the late-season break-down in Grant. And we could use some experience at the PG to help our back-court players develop.

Should be an interesting month or two.

WHAT'S IN MY POCKETS?
That was actually a joke. However, since you asked, today I have a wallet, my inhaler, some keys, $2.75, my MP3 player, my cell phone, and a digital camera.

I've spent too too much time on this post. Hope to hear what, if anything, you have to say.

Catch ya later.

Le Blogue is one year old today!

I'd do a greatest hits post or something, but I've been absolutely swamped this week. Just needed to toot my own horn.




Come back tomorrow for something original, including (perhaps) discussion on the new Blazers coach, the horrific bombing in London, and a look at whatever is in my pockets at that particular moment.

Indeed, this is the stuff that a year of quality blogging is made of...

Thank God for coffee

Despite the fact that I'm not supposed to drink it...


without it, I would've been useless all day.

I'm actually that dumb

So, the long-ass post I thought was scooped up into the ether?

Still here. Just the wrong time-stamp.

In the interest of academic honesty, I usually change the time-stamps on my posts to the time I actually post them, as opposed to the time I start writing.

I started the long-ass post at 11:-something AM. I went to change the post to noon, which is when I was posting, and accidentally didn't switch the AM to PM.

Lame, I know. Anyway, it's below.

Happy Fourth of July!

Crap (aka It's Independence Day! Join in the American Dream!)

Ugh. I just wrote a HUUUUUGE long post about the State of the Union and my general feelings on the direction of our nation.

Of course, I forgot my own rule and didn't copy the text before publishing.

Needless to say, the whole thing's gone into the ether.

I hate the internet. And I love it. What confusion.

I would just summarize what I said, but that runs the risk of not only making me sound "glib" (to borrow a word from Tom Cruise), but also may make it unclear how conflicted I am so that people might just light into me for what I've stated (or more for what I stated in a post they can't read, thus not allowing them to see the thoughts I've set forth that inform them of my angst).

In celebration of our nation, I ask you, therefore, to answer these questions, in the hopes of causing some sort of ruckus as we exercise our franchise.

1. Political affiliation (not to be confused with how you feel about our current administration)
2. Who you voted for last time (not to be confused with current political affiliation)
3. In respectful and thoughtful terms, how do you feel about our current national government?
4. In respectful and thoughtful terms, how do you feel about our current military situation?
5. If you were president, what would be the first 3 things you would do to change things for the better?

I, of course, will wait to see your responses before answering any of these...

Excercising my rights

To celebrate Independence Day, I'm going to exercise my free speech rights. So you're aware, there's nothing in particular that happened today to prompt this post. I haven't really thought it out, so it may not make sense when it's done. My only goal here is to reflect on our country and to do so publicly in celebration of my freedom to do so.

Laying the cards on the table: I'm a Christian Republican white male who voted for George Bush.

I supported going to war in Afghanistan. After 9/11, going after the terrorists on their turf (and regime change in terrorist-friendly Afghanistan) sounded good to me. I'll never forget the morning we all spent in shock in the Marion County DA's Office, huddling around TV's to see the devastation in New York, DC, and Pennsylvania and wishing we could cancel our court appearances for the day.

I supported going to war in Iraq. Primarily due to the evidence presented to the UN by Colin Powell, universally-respected Secretary of State, coupled with one of the better speeches George Bush has ever given explaining why going to war was necessary.

I'm glad we've ousted Saddam.

I have many friends in the military, and I support them all.

All that said, I'm sickened by our president and tired of our war.

President Bush is, I believe, a good man. A man in touch with his principles who honestly believes that he's doing the right thing. I believe all of that.

That said, I question his decision-making process, I question those advising him, and I wonder if he's got the wherewithal (entirely misspelled, I know) to lead this country at home and abroad.

At home, the economy continues to stagger towards a long-promised recovery. Oil prices increase with no real apparent action from our government to address them, despite the fact that they impact our whole economy. Class warfare continues. Noone is seeking a middle ground from which to guide a consensus of our country (the country of both the reds and blues) somewhere where the majority of us want to go.

Abroad, we are spurned by most of the world. We're distrusted by many, reviled by most. We've developed a cavalier attitude that alienates both our friends and enemies. We're isolationist while thrusting ourselves on others, which are, in my view, incompatible stands.

In Iraq, we're fighting the new Vietnam, unable to tell the difference between our friends and our enemies, who emerge in clusters from amongst our friends to kill us and any of their country-men who get in the way.

We are stuck.

First, before I get flamed as some unpatriotic pinko, let me say this. I agree with the lefties, who I don't consider myself one of, who say that the power of our country comes from our freedom to take place in debate, to raise our opinion in the marketplace of ideas. To be patriotic is to participate, not to sit back and watch. To be American is to raise your voice.

I support our troops. I support my friends in Iraq and other areas of the Middle East. I care about how they are equipped. I want them to be given the tools to succeed. I want them to come home alive, and to be honored for their sacrifice when they do. I'm proud to know each of them.

But this war is a problem.

Having said that I supported going in, and I supported the toppling of Saddam, I understand that wanting out of the war isn't realistic. I want our country out. I don't want any more lives lost. I don't want any more money spent in a situation that often appears hopeless (although things like successful free elections in Iraq are amazing when they come along).

I believe, however, that supporting going in requires me to have the gumption to support doing what it takes to accomplish the objectives set forth in gaining my support. There was the objective of ridding Iraq of WMD. That objective was, depending on your viewpoint, the result of intentional deception or simple misinterpretation of data. Either way, it wasn't the only objective. The other stated objectives were to remove a tyrant who was a terrorist-friendly head of state, and who was a terrorist to his own people, and also to liberate a people from oppression and create an oasis of self-rule in a land of despots. At the time these objectives were stated, there was nigh-universal support from everyone.

Certainly there was from me. And I cheered as American troops went in. And I cheered as Saddam was captured.

I've stopped cheering. It's been a long time since I've been happy about this war. However, having been in the group of Americans who cheered our entry, I owe it to our country, our troops, and Iraqis to push for the best possible resolution, the safety of our troops, and the independence of the Iraqi people.

What is the best possible resolution? Sadly, I don't know. I don't think it's a unilateral pull-out, leaving a vacuum of power and hostile, emboldened insurgents free to impose their will through violence and terror. I don't think its allowing under-equipped, under-manned forces to twist as we try to figure out what to do. Beyond these thoughts, I'm not sure what to think.

I think that we went in too quickly. Hindsight is 20/20, of course. But it's clear that our leaders didn't have an adequate plan for the weeks, months, and years after the battle charge.

Had such a plan been laid out, I have to think that our "Coalition of the Many" would be stronger and more cohesive, and our standing on the world stage would be more solid than it is now.

The political capital we're spending in Iraq, I believe, will not be understood until it is lacking in some future, greater context. We will pay for not laying a complete foundation and bringing others along. We'll wish we'd taken more time, made more complete plans, and worked to include others.

Now we live in a country set apart from the rest of the world. We listen to a president repeat the same jokes, the same catchphrases, and the same stump speeches he was spinning two years ago. We have a president who can't acknowledge fault and who therefore appears disingenuous. We have a country that feels like its leaders aren't listening. We have a bunch of people arguing among themselves because there's no leadership giving us a unified direction. At least, one that makes sense.

I'm glad 2008 offers a new choice on my side of the aisle. I hope that my party will actually consider who they put up there. I want a leader with a moral mandate, a social conscious, an idea of our country in the world context, a true compassion for the poor and a desire to address the issues of poverty here and abroad (I applaud the US/UK-led effort to cancel third-world debt), and an eloquent voice that speaks honestly and frankly with our people. I wish those people existed in government. Unfortunately, our system seems to nurture and cultivate salesmen with no true goals but the placating of their stockholders, and with no clear direction but whatever makes the arrow on the polls go up.

I'm one of many voices that, though perhaps confused, is clear that we don't like where we are, where we're headed, or who's taking us there. I hope and pray that there's some rational force driving us to a peak and not a valley. I know I don't understand much, but I know just enough to have a funny sinking feeling in my tummy, and I don't think it was caused by the Fred Meyer's sushi I had for lunch.

I'm done rambling. Don't know if I made any clear points. Regardless, your input is welcome...

Catch ya later.

The stupid stuff that sets me off

Is it just me, or is this just plain dumb?

I don't get it

I see this every time I drove to the Fred Meyer's at 39th and Hawthorne, which has been my closest Fred Meyer's for a couple of years now, and thus demands much attention (I hate the produce at Safeway--always goes bad as soon as you get it home).

In case you couldn't tell, I took this picture of a sign belonging to an establishment widely known as "Jiffy Lube." You may have been there. I often go there myself. Not too often, just often enough.

Anyway, I noticed, as perhaps you did, that "CRAZEE" is spelled wrong. I couldn't help but wonder why.

Now, if the store were called "JiffEE Lube", it might make sense. Even "Jiffy LOOb" might explain it. Some doubling of vowels somewhere. But, no, that's not the case.

So why mis-spell "crazy," instead bastardizing it with the double-E treatment?

Ugh. I'm concerned for our future.

I'm even more concerned that something this dumb incenses me enough to inspire a post...

I know, I know

No recent posts can make people crabby. My bad.

What've I been up to? Mostly hanging out with my wife and my dog.

Ollie, my doberman, is now about 9 months old. Once upon a time, she looked like this:



Sadly, that's not the case anymore. I've tried getting her to sit snugly in my lap like she once did, but now she's a bit too big. Exhibit 1:



Anywho, this week, with fine weather and all, has provided several opportunities for me and my puppy to hang out.

The other day, we went to the nearby dog park. Ollie doesn't get off the leash much, as of yet, because I'm still getting her to the point where I can trust her to behave. However, no other dogs were around while we were walking around the park, so I cut her loose.



That was fun. She ran around free, and I sat on the ground. Eventually, she pooped herself out with the running, and she came over and flopped on the ground next to me. I was actually pretty proud of her.

Of course, behaving at an empty dog park is one thing. A few days ago, JLowe and his wife invited us over to barbecue some food up with them. Of course, we agreed. However, I decided to see if I could push the limits. JLowe is currently dog-sitting for his sister, so he's in possession of four glorious pugs right now. Ollie's practiced with as many as two dogs at a time; now, it was time to try her out with four.

JLowe, undaunted by courageous thoughts, essentially told me to bring it on. So, Ollie came over.

Unfortunately, with the blur of dogs running around chasing eachother, I don't have any pictures of the five of them to show you. The closest I have is JLowe petting Ollie as he chatted on his cell phone (I swear this isn't what it looks like...)



Last night (er, the 2nd, since it's now still night, but also morning...whatever), The Missus and I had the Schnack clan over. They have a new puppy, Hoss, who's a lab of some sort. Still really young, but boy, is he getting big. Anyway, we had them come over, and they brought Hoss. Thanks to the fun they had, not only did Ollie hang out in the back yard for 4 hours, locked out of the house, without a single complaint, but she was so tuckered out when he left that she flopped over and fell soundly asleep for the whole evening.

Because of this, of course, we're thinking of getting a new dog. Here's the picture of the one we're looking at:



He's a rottweiler/doberman mix, currently four months old. The good thing about getting him is another dog will probably help Ollie mellow out, and at least will keep her company so that, hopefully, she isn't so needy. The bad thing is that, with a kid coming, a new dog may not be the best idea. Opinions, my trusted readers?

Anyway, this last picture is cute. As I got home from church this morning, I saw Ollie sitting in the window, on the back of the couch, a la Garfield. She unperched before I could take the picture, but I still got a shot of her looking longingly out the window. This is, honestly, my favorite part about getting home (on the days when I get home before my wife)...



For all of her lunacy, I absolutely love my dog.

Catch ya later.

Just checkin' in

Long time, no read.

I've been pretty busy of late. Lots on my plate at work, just as much on my plate away from work.

First, of course, is the impending kid. Much nesting has ensued.

Second is my ongoing attempt to see all of Hollywood's recent renderings. I've hit a snag, as my new car has swallowed my movie-watching capital. However, I can report that Batman is great, Mr. and Mrs. Smith is fabulous (JLowe, you still have to come see it with me and The Missus, so don't tell your wife...) and The Longest Yard was a disappointment, mostly because I knew how good the first one was.

Finally, it's softball season again. Not only has Hit & Run re-emerged (although our first game last night was rained out), but I'm also on another team that actually plays well, for the most part. Of course, we got our asses handed to us tonight, but that's beside the point.

Anyway, enough with the pleasantries. I want to talk about the NBA draft, and more specifically, the Blazers.

First, let me say that I like Martell Webster as a first round draft pick. The Blazers have been looking for a new shooting guard for some time, and have been zeroing in on Martell and Gerald Green for the last month, at least. In recent days, it has become clear that Gerald Green, though an athletic dynamo with tremendous upside, is a headcase who doesn't pass The Pieman's character test, simply because he's too dumb to do so. We have enough physical specimens on the team. Zach is a specimen (more or less). Darius is absolutely a specimen. Neither is ideal.

Though I've never seen Martell play, I have to give credence to those draft "experts" who say that he's a solid character guy, a good shooter, and though not as great in terms of potential, is more ready to contribute immediately than Green.

The only disappointment is that we didn't find a way to make Utah swallow Ruben's contract in the trade. Although Ruben has played his way into my list of reasons to watch the Blazers, he made it pretty clear at the end of last season that he wanted out, and the primary difficulty in dishing him has been the "trade kicker" in his contract, which entitles him to some serious $$$ if, and when, he gets traded. Utah was obviously hungry to move up in the draft, and Portland, it appears, was the only willing party to a trade to get them as high as #3. All that said, we really should've forced them to sweeten the deal a bit. A bit meaning taking Ruben off of our hands, thus making it easy to figure out who to waive (Derek) when the new CBA goes into effect.

Not like we won't waive Derek anyway. That guy's absolutely worthless, and Trader Bob should be shot on sight for ever giving him that much money for no apparent reason. Although it's clear to me that Martell won't be our starter at the 2 when the season starts, it's also clear to me that he's going to get fast-tracked, the same way Sebastian was, into starting by the end of the season. The only question is who we will fill the starting 2 spot with for the first 4 months.

Regarding our taking a PG as our second pick (via trades)... I've heard great things about Jarrett Jacks. Despite that, many people have questioned the wisdom of taking another point guard with such a glaring need at power forward. Imagine, the Blazers, who used to have a logjam at PF, are now in need of a good back-up as we're letting Shareef walk and waiting to see when (er, if) Zach recovers from the microfracture surgery.

Myself, I like the pick. It was clear, as the season wound down last year, that Bassy was developing a bit of an attitude as he got comfortable with being the only option to start at the point guard position. Many media outlets indicated he was starting to let his success go to his head.

I like Bassy. But I also like competition, and its good to see the team throwing some at him so that it's clear that he has to earn, and fight to keep, his job.

Besides, having a big PG to throw in at times will be good, considering that Sebastian is in the midget mold so nicely created by 6 years of Damon.

My questions for you:

1. Where does Damon go from here?
2. Where does 'Reef go from here?
3. What more needs to happen for you to buy some tickets?

Me, I'm almost ready to buy in. I want Darius gone. I want Zach challenged at the 4, so that he has to develop a passing game and some defense. I want Derek waived and a viable option at the 2 brought in. If these conditions are met, I will buy my first Blazer ticket since the year they choked against the Lakers. I might even buy a pair, so The Missus can join in.

That's enough checking in. Sorry I've been such a lay-about. No reason to expect that I won't disappear for another few days. However, keep checking back, as I may surprise you.

Catch ya later.

Typical

So, I woke up this morning with not-so-grand illusions that I'd get some work done.

Not house work. Office work.

I don't often work on weekends currently. Along with flex-time (having a somewhat-fluid schedule to accomodate for the various lunchtime and night-time meetings that my current assignment calls for), a benefit of being in a position like the one I currently have is that I rarely have to take anything home over the weekend (though, admittedly, I have as projects have come and gone).

Another project has come. And it required some extra time. Which is good, because eventually I'll move into a position which will, no doubt, require some weekend time on my part, and so the occasional weekend work is good to remind me of what is coming.

Anyhoo, I digress. I woke up this morning with plans to go into the office, after the bi-monthly bloodletting at the Red Cross and some coffee with my wife and the JLowe's at City Coffee.

On my way to the Red Cross, the sky was cloudy and attempting to rain. Which was good, as I saw it, because it reinforced my feeling that if I had to be at work, at least I wouldn't be missing any nice weather.

It was even still looking iffy as I drove out to my office. When I got to work, the temperature was warm, but the clouds still bode not-so-well for outdoorsy-ness, so I was fine.

Then, after about four hours in my office, as I prepared to leave, I saw this:



What is it? It's a view at Gresham Police Department that's always captivated me, since shortly after I started working there. This spot is in my assistant's old cubicle (before her office got moved) and is what I used to stare at as I pondered fine legal points to answer her questions. For quite awhile, I've wanted to grab a picture of it. I took my camera with me today solely for that purpose.

Anyway, the more important thing to notice in this picture is the bright blue sky. Normally I'm looking through this window on weekdays, and the sky looks much the same. But I've always known weekends to be rainy, as if God was trying to teach us all a lesson about the silver linings of clouds.

This view was not right.

I grabbed my stuff, and bolted out the back door (minor exaggeration, of course) to find bright sun, blue sky, hot weather. All that I assumed I wouldn't be missing by working this weekend.

Curses!

Anyway, I wasn't done with work yet. I had to drop some items off at the main courthouse before I could call it quits, so I rolled down the windows and hit the road. A pleasant drive on a beautiful day.

At the courthouse, I saw that not-too-many people had so foolishly relied on the weatherman, and the office was fairly quiet. I dropped off my materials and headed for the elevator, when I saw this view.



Now, really, this was my second trip to the courthouse of the day. After the Red Cross, I stopped in to get some materials to assist in my project for the day. I did this despite hearing that we'd had an earthquake in the earlier hours of the day, and despite an accute awareness that if the earth had a relapse, I might get crushed. I went in the second time figuring that, as the building was still standing 5 hours after my first visit, I'd probably be alright popping in for 5 minutes.

Anyway, this is the donut hole of the courthouse. I'm not a courthouse historian, so don't put too much stock in what I'm about to say. But, our courthouse was originally built in two "L"'s. After the first L was built, work commenced in it while work commenced on the second L. When all was finished, we had a courthouse that is essentially a square donut, with a courtyard in the middle.

According to a courthouse guard I was talking to on a different Saturday morning in the courthouse, the courtyard used to be used for hanging people. Again, I'm no historian, and I don't know if this is true. But it is interesting to think about, especially if your alone in the office at night, thinking of the poor souls who met their demise a few floors down.

Now, the courtyard is filled (for the most part) with a building-within-the-building that rises about 3 floors, and which houses much-needed space for various court-related functions. But, from the 8th floor of the courthouse, that doesn't pop into your view of the inside of the donut.

By the way, if you look carefully toward the top of the picture, you can see bars on the windows. That's the courthouse jail, used to house inmates with court hearings on weekdays, and used as a place to put naughty people who the court essentially grounds for the weekend (go to jail at 8 on Saturday and leave at 5, then come back Sunday to rinse and repeat).

Don't know why I snapped the picture, other than I liked the venetian blind aspect with the brickwork behind it.

After leaving the courthouse, I decided to take a few pictures of downtown stuff. You can view those over at the Metblog.

Now I'm home, realizing (as I type) that I should be outside doing something, but being stuck at home because my wife has our car. So I'll be washing the dog and taking for a walk to dry her off, and then we'll see what the rest of the weekend has in store.

Now that I'm free, it'll probably be rain. Curses!

Catch ya later.

Schwing!

Check out JLowe and I rockin' the driving range.





The good golfers in the crowd will see I look like I've just hit a softball. Oh, well, as long as it flies semi-straight, I'm happy!

Bach-ing it

As happens from time to time, my wife is out of town on assignment for a few days, which leaves me to live the bachelor life. How do I celebrate?

1) See movies.
Actually, before she left, we went and saw Batman Begins. I loved that movie, more even than the newest Star Wars flick, and highly recommend it.

Last night, I went and saw The Longest Yard with JLowe and Mr. Schnacky. As a die-hard Adam Sandler fan, I went in despite reading reviews that should have left me wondering. I paid my coin, I sat down, and spent the next two hours sorta enjoying myself while silently dinging the film for each moment it didn't hold its weight in comparison to the original. Schnack, who hadn't seen the original (he's a youngster at 24) and JLowe, who hates most sports, enjoyed it more for having no understanding of just how it underperformed.

It was entertaining to see a who's-who of washed up wrestlers and ESPN TV personalities doing their thing.

I went home and put in Elektra, which arrived from Netflix in the mail. Of course, it had been a long day, I was sipping a cold one, my dog was laying on me chewing a dead cow's hoof, and between these things and the boring-ness of the film, I opted to fall asleep instead of trying to watch it all.

Tonight, it's the rest of Elektra and The Terminal with Tom Hanks, some left-overs, and more petting the dog.

2) Taking pictures
With my new Father's Day present, I'm always looking for a shot to take. And, thanks to a suggestion from my friend Mak, I've got a SD card coming that will hold all I want to point and shoot. On the topic of taking pictures, the Metafilter today pointed me to this site. Who wants to join in putting Portland on the map?

3) Swinging the clubs
Back in college, before I realized I'd be going to law school, I decided to take golf classes, first because my friends were and it was easy college credit, and second because I figured I'd want, some day, to know how to hit a golf ball. Now that I'm a lawyer, some people assume that I must golf all the time. In actuality, I haven't golfed in two years, and two years ago I only golfed twice.

I have a wedding coming up that I'm in. It's in Pocatello, Idaho, which is somewhere near Nowhereville. I have to be there for three days (wedding rehearsal is Thursday night and wedding itself is on Saturday), which means that there's a day in the middle during which the groom is demanding his party go golfing. Of course, having not swung the sticks in two years, I'm not even confident in my ability to make contact with the ball, let alone drive it any sort of distance in any sort of straight line. So, tonight I'll be at the driving range. Look for the bald guy cussing and throwing clubs. Look for the shocked and dismayed guy next to him. I'll be the bald guy. The dismayed guy will be JLowe, upset that I just destroyed his driver.

4) Housework
No bachelor time can go by without paying for it with some sweat equity. Before The Missus gets back, I expect to clean the kitchen, mow the lawn, wash the dishes, do some laundry, and bathe the dog. Oh, joy!

Anyway, back to work. Just thought I'd check in. If anyone has any thoughts on Mr. and Mrs. Smith, let me know because The Missus wants to see it when she gets back.

Catch ya later.

Travel-Blog Day 7 is up

Picture of the day

The Missus at Blue Lake

Aah, Father's Day Weekend...

Beer, X-Box, Family Guy on TV. What more could you want? (Hint: I'm not mowing the lawn this weekend...)

To see how I've spent my Saturday, go check out the Metblog.

Random picture of the day

At last, an old feature comes back.

Thanks to my Father's Day present. The Missus bought me a kick-butt digital camera.

So, you can expect more random photos, which have always been one of my favorite things to post; I just have gotten tired of searching them out. Now I can manufacture my own.

So, here's today's pic...

Ollie's bright eyes.

Catch ya later.

Things you don't want to come home to

A kitchen and living room (fortunately not carpeted) spackled in canine incontinence and yellow liquid.

A serious lack of paper towels to remedy the situation (until, happily, an old, lost roll is found).

A torrential downpour starting just as you have to take the refuse bag out, and soaking you in the ten seconds you're outside.

Seriously, folks, weekend can only get better from here...

Baby update

It's (most likely) a GIRL!

Most likely, because she's a little shy, and wouldn't position herself properly for the ultrasound technician to get a really good look.

But, I figure if she truly couldn't tell, she wouldn't have given us a "I'm pretty sure, but I can't say I'm positive"-type statement.

Needless to say, all gifts will need to come with gift receipts, just in case...

By the way...

Watched in stunned disbelief as Jacko got off on all of his charges (no pun intended). I figured he'd be acquitted on the felonies, but popped for at least one count of giving alcohol to kids.

I didn't follow the case closely enough to have an opinion. I definitely think Mikey's an odd guy, and I don't think I'd ever let him baby-sit. That said, I didn't follow this brou-ha-ha nearly enough to have an informed opinion on whether the case against him was good or not.

So, if you want to share your thoughts or feelings, please do. Perhaps I'll try to pass them off as my own in some subsequent discussion with friends...

P.S. Updated my links to the right. Following my recent inundation regarding my latest Blazers post, and the fact that Blazers-related readers are still finding there way here, and also given that I enjoy following this team I love to hate and wish to love again, I figured having some Blazers links on the right would be good for everyone involved. Despite general opinion from several of my detractors involving my Blazers thoughts, I really do keep up with the current events, if for no other reason than I'm waiting for an excuse to enjoy the team again...

Nesting

It's official.

My wife is pregnant.

Now, I know that I announced this joyous event months ago. But, last week, the official pregnancy began.

First, my wife is finally starting to show. And not in the way where she says "am I showing?" and you scratch your head and wonder if a "yes" answer will be construed as you thinking she's fat because she doesn't really think she's showing. It's the "I am showing now, aren't I?" where you know acquiescence is safe.

Second, nesting has begun.

We've been talking about projects that we'd like to tackle to get the house ready for baby for the past couple of months. Moving some furniture around, organizing some parts of the house, little things here and there.

When The Missus lobbied for the purchase of a lawnmower and some garden supplies, I mistook it for enthusiasm for the season. It turns out it was a precursor, a look at what was to come.

In the past couple of weeks, we've acquired several articles of furniture, we've started organizing our long-neglected laundry room, we've started re-configuring the rooms in the house, and it has become abundantly clear to me that The Missus is starting to develop full-on maternal urges. The nesting has begun.

It's nice, actually. The other day, for no apparent reason, The Missus made chocolate chip cookies. Last night, in a long break from the usual tradition, she opted to go grocery shopping while I was off dealing with another commitment. Tomorrow, just because, we're having friends over to eat dinner at our place.

It may not sound like much. But the changes are obvious.

Thursday we find out what gender our baby is. That night, we host a family barbecue to let the grand- and great-grandparents to be know what's coming.

And then Father's Day will be here, and I have it on good authority that I have a whopper of a gift coming.

Nesting, and preparing for what's coming, is fun. I think I'm going to enjoy this waiting-for-baby thing. At least, that is until my wife stops enjoying pregnancy, at which point I suspect that I, too, will just want it to be over...

Catch ya later.

Introducing, Day 6

The ongoing re-hashing of my recent roadie...

Travel-Blog, Day 5 is up!

Denise, where are you?

Recently, Denise over at And So It Goes announced her blogging retirement. Mere days later, she announced her return to the blogosphere, which she followed with a few more posts to demonstrate her earnest dedication to entertaining me, if not others.

Opening myself up here to a slippery slope, or sticky wicket, or whatever, I contacted Denise about her brief disappearing act, and encouraged her to keep up the good work. I discussed a blog I know of that's hardly ever updated and told Denise that as long as she was going to be more interesting than JLowe, she shouldn't throw in the towel.

She agreed, and said that there was a major facelift coming to her blog, and that she was very excited, and so on.

And now, when I check her out on a daily basis to see what all that hub-bub was about, I see the same thing. At the top, her entry from May 20th, with my lonely, unanswered comment.

Denise, where are you? We know that you got hitched and have devoted at least some time to home improvements, but does that mean you don't care about us little people anymore?

I think I speak for several people when I say the world's more entertaining with you than without. Drop us a line, or better, a post, and let us know what gives.

Catch ya later.

P.S. Mak, don't think you've escaped my notice, either. But for your sudden flurry, I'd be giving you a similar keyboard-lashing...

Best. Steak. Ever.

So, this weekend I had to go to Seattle to celebrate the impending nuptials of my friend Biscuit.

Biscuit's wedding isn't actually until August. However, he's currently residing in D.C., where he works on some congressional committee as a pee-on for The Man, so chances to go out to dinner with college friends living in the northwest are few and far between for him.

It just so happened he got flown to Seattle for a "fact-finding mission" (aka "boondoggle" by a local business concern that needed to display facts for congress to find, or something. As such, he was conveniently close in order to provide an excuse to go out and spend (way) too much money on drinks, cigars, and food.

Biscuit's requests were simple. He wanted to go somewhere with steak. He wanted to smoke a stogie before the night ended. And he wanted to get, and keep, a buzz going all night.

I arrived in Seattle around 2:30 on Saturday afternoon to find Biscuit at his hotel's bar with a chick we knew in college. She was drinking an Emerald Drop (think a lemon drop with Midori instead). He was nursing a 7 & 7. I quickly joined in with a G&T.

We sat there for the next 3 hours, catching up, drinking drinks (a total of 2 G&T's for me, three 7 & 7's for Biscuit, and Ms. T switched from the Emerald to the Rose Drop, thereby having every fruity chick drink you can have with "drop" in the title that had no lemon).

We (Biscuit and I) were really just killing time until the real fun began. And once our friend Chachi showed up, we left the hotel so that the real fun would know it was time to start.

We hopped into a cab and headed north, to Belltown, to try what many of us had heard was the best steakshop in the region. When the cabby dropped us off, we stared at our destination, El Gaucho.

Now, I've heard great things about El Gaucho. I've heard that they put my (previous) favorite steak place, Ruth's Chris, to shame. I've heard they are wicked expensive. I've heard the experience (beyond just the food) is heavenly.

Knowing before-hand that I was going to this place, and that I was on a fixed budget (indeed, looking at my account today, I over-did it despite mostly sticking to my planned budget), I pulled the menu up on-line and started planning my meal.

I was pleasantly surprised to find some not-so-spendy options on the menu, although the most appealing options were going to set me back a bit. So, I planned to have a New York Strip and some spinach and call it good at that. Oh, and a couple of beers, too.

While talking to Ms. T at the bar, she highly recommended the baseball cut, and also said that the Wicked Shrimp was a must-eat. I talked Chachi into going in halfsies on some Wicked Shrimp, thereby allowing myself that, a Caesar, and a baseball cut (and still fitting into the budget), and was pretty pleased with myself. Two $5 beers, and I figured to come out relatively unscathed.

I didn't count on two things. First, we had a struggling law student with us, and having been through that, there was no way that I (or any of the others, at the table, for that matter) could really let him suffer too much when the bill came. Second, my friend Kain ordered some wine, then he and Mr. M ordered some dessert port, and then we got the bill, and somehow we decided to split it evenly. My budget got sh*t-canned right quick. But I didn't flinch. It was all for a good cause.

Afterwards, we went to the cigar bar to smoke stogies and hang loose. I'd brought two cigars, both pre-embargo Cuban leaves, with me from Portland (where I purchased said tobbacco at Rich's), for Biscuit and myself, and Kain ordered himself one as well. Chachi, it turns out, had recently converted to Mormonism after getting hitched, so he abstained from all of our debauchery as we assaulted our innards.

Figuring budgeting was a lost cause, I ordered a Jack and Coke and puffed away.

After about an hour, we all got bored and decided to head out. A pleasant surprise occurred when Mr. M covered my drink, as I'd run out of cash at the dinner table. I'm grateful for generous friends.

We went back to the bar at Biscuit's hotel, where I drank coffee (had to drive to Kain's house in Woodinville when all was said and done, and didn't want to be unsafe) and water and we sat for about an hour, getting gradually more quiet and more tired, until finally it was time to throw in the towel.

And away I went, to spend the night at Kain's, where I was woken up at 9am by his cute 4-year old daughter, who was looking around for her mom and came to bother me as she didn't feel right waking her dad up. Which is fine, my alarm went off 5 minutes later, so between her visit and my waking up, I just sat there silently giggling at the funny conversation we'd just had.

A thorough scrub-down in the shower, and exchange of text message good-mornings with The Missus, and downstairs to partake of Kain's home-made Huckleberry Pancakes, with berries right off of his bush. Very good.

A good end, in fact, to a great culinary weekend.

What can I say for El Gaucho, having now experienced it? Simple. Best steak ever. Even the cheap cut left me both gorged and yet wanting.

I've heard the Portland El Gaucho is less consistent. I don't care. I have to go back, sooner rather than later, to enjoy the fine goodness that is El Gaucho. Ruth's Chris, I hardly knew ye.

Catch ya later.

Holy Crap!

My last post certainly struck a chord!

Of course, I was helped by the random pick-up of my opinions by both the Blazer Blog (link at right) and TrueHoop, which both have a much more developed readership than I do.

Thanks to these great outlets, 499 people (by 5:05 pm today) had taken the time to read the opinions of this little Blazer-fan-wanna-be-again (previous peak was 91 hits on 5/24/05), and several took the time to comment as well.

My eyes almost popped out of my head when I looked at my stats this morning and saw the mounting mass of numbers. It's refreshing when your opinion resonates. For a moment, I feel like what I say matters. Then I remind myself that I'm one person, and not really the best informed or most qualified at that.

That said, my opinion matters (at least to me), so I don't mind sharing it.

Interesting article in the Trib (link at right) today about "Chaos in the Courts". As a county prosecutor, I thought the article was a bit one-sided and unfair, but it does portray the disarray in the system accurately to a certain extent, and is a worthy read.

I don't really feel like this is the forum for voicing my opinions on the issues raised there, however, because there's too much of a chance for people to read me wrong, and that would be bad for me. If you want my opinion, feel free to e-mail and I may give it to you, assuming that I trust you.

All that said, I'm behind on the Travel-blog, with no certain date for additions in sight. This weekend I'm off to Seattle to celebrate a friend's impending nuptials, so not much will come forth from my keyboard until Sunday-ish. But the Travel-blog will be completed to its end. Have no fear!

Catch ya later.

Blazers Haters, Unite!

So, the past season is just barely over, and I'm already getting frustrated with the direction of our franchise for next season.

As a recap, last year Portland committed major dollars to Zach Randolph (aka the Black Hole, because no ball passed to him ever leaves his hands) Theo "I've fallen and I can't get up" Ratliff, and Darius "I bump my head until there's no sense left in me" Miles, despite the fact that the Blazers were only bidding against themselves and both players only had one decent season a piece to show for themselves. They brought in Nick Van Exel, a proven pot-stirrer. The continued to stick by Derek Anderson, the most useless player in the NBA. They did everything they could to disenfranchise Ruben Patterson, who, despite some prior off-court problems that cannot be ignored, was the most consistent member of the team. And they completely destroyed any hopes of drawing a good coach by how they treated Maurice Cheeks, who may not have been the X's and O's guy we needed, but who was the face of the positive face of the franchise when Whitsitt and Rasheed were trying to bring it down.

On the short list of positives, they got a surprise performance out of Joel Pryzbilijflkasdjf, Travis Outlaw showed himself to be our next Jermaine O'Neal, and Sebastian Telfair showed that our first round pick wasn't entirely wasted.

Today, Steve Patterson, the Blazer's team president, popped up on NBA.com long enough to answer some questions in a chat session. Among the bombs he dropped were his insights that we need better shooting and that our number 3 pick in this year's draft could produce a good player, or could be traded for something as well. (For additional deep, deep thoughts, see John Nash's well-maintained and frequently-updated blog at NBA.com).

Wow, Steve. Thanks for the news.

In looking at next year, there are a few things that, as a fan who just voted in the Blazer Blog poll as believing Blazer Mania is dead, I think the franchise needs to do to re-energize its fan base while also reinvigorating the team. Not being a master with money (my bank account reflects an extremely un-savvy financial mind at work), I throw these out despite them being perhaps-undoable in the real world.

1. Get Rick Adelman back. The Blazers dumped him despite his being one of the most successful coaches in team history, and then he took his success to Sacramento (I refuse to acknowledge the Golden State fiasco, much as he does). Whatever Paul Allen thinks of the guy, fans loved him, players played for him, and he brought consistent success year after year.
2. Get rid of Zach and Darius. Although Zach has shown great potential, he's also had a micro-fracture knee surgery that will probably keep him from being the player that we've paid him to be. Darius just doesn't get it, as was evidenced by his frequent moping and foolish theatrics with coaches. Neither is who we want to build this team around. I say trade them both for whatever you can get for them, re-sign Shareef (the most solid character guy on the team, and a solid player to boot), lean on Patterson as we develop Outlaw, and coach a team-first over me-first (which is Zach and Darius' approach) philosophy to playing. Trading away Nick Van Exel's non-guaranteed contract would also be a smart thing to do, both to get the quitter off our roster, and to get some value in return.
3. Waive Derek Anderson. Just bite the financial bullet. This guy will never be what we (foolishly) hoped he would be, and we need to cut bait now.
4. Paul Allen picked the wrong time to become a miser. Open up the wallet. How come Paul was so willing to throw ludicrous money at teams that wouldn't get us there, but now is shying away from investing money in a solid, disciplined, character-filled team? He's still pulling the trigger on bad deals, and yet won't pull it on good ones. In Patterson's chat today, he talked about the budget issues that preclude the team from making a run at a real money player. That didn't stop them from picking up Shawn Kemp. Get rid of our team's dead (or dying) weight and throw some dough at players who'll get it done.
5. Don't count on fans to wait through a slow re-build. Last season showed what we already knew: fans won't go to games if we're going to be consistent losers. When Allen's only source of income off this team is ticket sales (since he let the Garden go in bankruptcy) and advertising, he needs to put a team on the floor that will win games. Otherwise, noone's going to pay to watch, and noone will advertise to an empty arena. In the past, Blazer Mania survived through tough years because we had likeable players, involved ownership, and we were obviously always trying to make a run every single year. Two years out of the playoffs, with a motley cast of characters (except for the solid Ratliff and Rahim, and the likeable-but-now-gone Damon and Cheeks), a growing feeling in fans of malignant disinterest on the part of the team's management group, and the feeling that noone is willing to do what it takes to field a winner, will tarnish this brand beyond repair if nothing is done.
6. Get Ray Allen, or similar. We need a lights-out two guard. We need to spend what it takes to get a young stud in that spot and tie him up for a few years. Find the next Reggie Miller, and pay him what it takes to keep him here for 5 years.
7. Paul, show us you care. For an example of clearly engaged ownership, see your nemesis, Mark Cuban.

That's my prescription for the Blazers. And thanks, Steve, for not answering my question about why this team continues to throw away money on questionable character, despite promises to the otherwise. I didn't figure you'd get to it, and strangely I was right (even though you did answer to fake Andrew Bogut questions).

Your thoughts?

Catch ya later.

Random links

I try to keep links posts to a minimum these days, but I saw these three things and just couldn't pass them up.

Yet another harbinger of the end of the world, courtesy of Tom Cruise and his fake love interest

If the champagne sucked to bad, why did she obviously enjoy so much of it? (thanks to Jeff Kay for this and the next one...)

Non-selective donkey meets unsuspecting outdoor-pottier

Sorry I'm slacking on the travel-blog (or anything else of interest). Home improvement and all. Maybe Day 5 will go up tonight.

Catch ya later.