Happy Fourth of July

Long time no read here at EduClaytion, but those days are coming to an end.  Today we celebrate America’s 233rd birthday.  Independence Day is rarely recognized for the religious holiday it is, but we’ll save all that for another time.

Enjoy your day and read this nice offering from Ol’ Mr. Pink Eyes.

Bring Me The Brandy Lord Stanley!

WooooHoooo!  Not much else to say as the Pittsburgh Penguins have beat history and defeated the Detroit Red Wings to win their third Stanley Cup in franchise history. 

No road team in any sport had won a road game seven to clinch a championship since 1979 when the Pittsburgh Pirates won the World Series.  In the 87th game of the NHL playoffs, the Penguins took exit 71 to Detroit to dethrone the champs. 

From the kids of promise to the veterans of hope, the Pens did what it took to achieve hockey immortality.  Tomorrow is here; the promise is fulfilled.  The Steel City skaters have matched the cross town Pittsburgh Steelers to snatch a second championship for the Burgh this year.  Pittsburgh is once again the City of Champions.

Where do I start?

Max Talbot scored twice, only the 9th player ever to net two goals in a game 7.  Marc-Andre Fleury disproved the doubters time and again with huge saves including one with only a second left on Niklas Lidstrom.  Sidney Crosby suffered a nasty injury but kept his team motivated to hold onto the slimmest of margins, a one goal difference that came down to inches yet will span a lifetime as the Boys of Winter will see their names engraved for all time on the Stanley Cup, the ultimate symbol of childhood expectations where dreams are reflected in the shiny gloss of the ages.

Congress Reaffirms Fake Hate Of Smoking

The Senate today sent a tobacco-hatin’ volley back to the House of Reps.  Beware smokers, the government is about to light you up as the FDA takes more control of your lives.  EduClaytion readers got a big whiff of this governmental stink bomb back in April in Smoke Em If You Got Em, one of the most read posts ever. 

The current version is new and improved by which I mean even worse.  If the House drops its rubber stamp President Obama will sign on with glee.  He must you see.  The future of America’s children is at stake.  I know because Senator Dick Durbin of Illinois told me.  Durbin continues to help Illinois rise in the ranking of America’s stupidest states.  Here’s what Dick had to say:

“This is a bill that will protect children and will protect America.  Every day that we don’t act, 3,500 American kids — children — will light up for the first time. That is enough to fill 70 school buses.”

As I say, if you want to know what’s wrong with this legislation in the first place, just read the original article.  I’ll even ignore the various problems with these stats about kids smoking and the hypocrisy of our leaders.  Don’t get me started about how much Durbin and his pals want to “protect America.”  Quite a bang up job they do passing dozens of laws to increase their power in the name of our good. 

I’ve got a few ideas about who I’d like those busses to drive over but I better be careful before Congress passes another law to “protect me.”

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Do You Understand D-Day?

If you were to rank the most important days in American history, June 6 would be near the top of the list. Next to some work by the Founding Fathers and Abraham Lincoln, perhaps no event means more in American history than D-Day, the successful Allied invasion of Europe in 1944 that signaled the beginning of the end for Hitler’s evil regime. June 6 marks the anniversary of that amazing surge 65 years ago today.

The majority of the men who made that brave push were young, kids really.  Many of them are gone today. The grizzled few that remain reflect only faint traces of the courageously clueless boys who took the next step because they had to. All they did was save the world, an achievement usually reserved for superheroes. 

I never care much for hero sandwich style writing when it comes to sports stars or corporate tycoons, but I don’t know any other way to describe what took place on the desolate beaches of France during that decisive summer.

Twenty-five years have passed since President Reagan commemorated the event at Normandy. In 1984, he spoke on the 40th anniversary of the invasion. He spoke of efforts by groups like the Rangers who climbed the cliffs in the face of machine gun fire and grenades to win the foothold position necessary for advancing through Europe. He spoke of individual sacrifices, those that risked their lives, those that gave them.

You can watch movies like Saving Private Ryan or Band Of Brothers or even documentaries with live footage. None of that does justice to the reality of what those troops faced. We can only listen to the words of those who fought to try to grab onto something we can understand. That will never be enough either though. In the end, all we are left with is how to respond. Like the astounding beauty of the universe we can not understand what it is we are seeing, we can only feel the awe that strikes anyone who takes the time to consider this rarest of scenes in a time of challenge that required sacrifice from all, selfishness from none.

Not to inject bitterness into these thoughts, but why is so little done on this day? In America, most people under the age of 40 are clueless until they stumble across a special on TV or see an article in passing. I believe June 6 should be a national holiday.

I’m amazed at how millions of people will spend a day planting trees and thinking about how much they love earth, yet those same people couldn’t find Europe on a map and think Normandy has something to do with wine or fashion. Don’t get me wrong, when the kids come home with baby plants we go nuts and find the perfect spot for it to bathe in the sun and slowly die over the coming weeks. But school is also in session every June 6 in my family when we remember the ultimate sacrifice of thousands.

Global Politics, Pancakes, N’at

So the G20 Summit is coming to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.  I wonder if the United Nations will supply a translator for the language of the locals: Pittsburghese.  If you are unfamiliar with this strange dialect, take a peek at the official site. 

I jes can’t wait for em politicians to git dahntahn for that summit n’at.  If you can decipher the preceding sentence, chances are you’ve been to the Burgh.  You might even refer to more than one person as yinz, the ultimate Steel City term to identify local masses, especially fans of em Stillers (the Steelers).  Yinzers are the new hoopleheads.

Of all the cities in the world, Pittsburgh is the strangest venue for an international summit of the leaders of the most powerful countries on the globe.  Sure, the Burgh has been twice voted America’s most livable city, but no one around here will pretend they’re not shocked by Obama’s announcement.  Apparently Pittsburgh is a good example of how to restore a region from economic collapse through new technology and going green.  

City Mayor Luke Ravenstahl says this may be the biggest event in Pittsburgh history.  That kind of exposure will bring thousands of folks from all over to attend.  The funnest part might be the anticipated protesters. 

Hope You Could Believe In

Bob Hope was born on May 29th, 1903.  One of the all-time legends of comedy and a great American who honored U.S. troops throughout his career.  The following is a short clip from the 1940 film The Ghost Breakers.  Many observers rank this as one of the funniest move lines ever.  That is, when people had a sense of humor about politics.

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Scientologists Gone Wild

Someone should tell the Mormons that they blew it.  Sorry Mitt.  If you’re ever gonna make up a new religion don’t pick Utah as your headquarters.  Where would be better than Utah you ask?  Good question.  The answer is just about anywhere else, but preferably the beach.  For followers of sci-fi writer L. Ron Hubbard that would be Clearwater Beach, Florida.

I know this because I recently spent a fortnight (assuming fortnight means 8 days) down at Clearwater.  Sure, like any other religious seeker I dabbled in other areas like Tampa Bay and Ft. Myers, but those other spots lacked all I came to love about ClearH2O, endearing features like torrential rainfall, tornado warnings, shark attacks, haters of all things Pittsburgh and, most of all, Scientologists.

Quick editorial note: I don’t really believe Scientology should have a capital S, but let’s not take the chance since they could sick aliens on me to melt my brain and/or face.

Since you, like me, have probably never researched this unique organization, let’s take a closer look, and by closer look I mean ridicule and satirize without actually researching anything.

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All I knew about Scientology heading into my vaca was that L. Ron Hubbard created the thing, Tom Cruise & John Travolta were big fans, and aliens were involved.  That alone helped explain Cruise’s behavior on Oprah and Battlefield Earth.  Also, they want to “clear the planet” of us 6 billion or so people in their way.  Bet you didn’t know that little chestnut.

As I first took in the sights of Clearwater Beach, I began to learn more of these pleasure seekers.  They’re not exactly catching rays at the surf, more like walking in circles around landside buildings.  And they love Starbucks.  Beware coffee drinkers, methinks there’s a powerful elixir in that steaming venti.

Key Centers Of Scientology. Notice Starbucks. I Have No Idea Why 311 Eldridge St. Is Marked.

One day I got stopped at a red light next to a parked van, the official ScientologyMobile.  Graphics adorned the white box on wheels, messages explained that I was empty and miserable and urged me to buy L. Ron Hubbard’s book Dianetics so that I could attain peace and happiness.  Inspired by the cult-mobile I yearned to know more.  Well, that and it had rained for five straight days.

At first I tried to speak to some of the local faithful.  Scientologists are easy to spot.  Their dress code apparently came out of the employee handbook for Red Lobster servers.  Perhaps sensing my outsiderness, they hoarded their Starbucks cups and sidestepped me as I approached.  I tried signaling them ala Spock from Star Trek, but I never could do that stupid salute with two fingers pointing each way, so I inadvertently gave a bunch of Scientologists the finger.  Trust me, not something you want to do on their home turf.

I looked to my family for help, but they had jumped in the rental van and drove away.  Relentless as Rosie O’Donnell after porkchop sandwiches, I determined to infiltrate the Clearwater compound for answers. 

They Touched The Prince’s Hardware

Quite a historical day, eh?  No, I’m not talking about Obama nominating a Latin lady, I’m referring to the Pittsburgh Penguins defying the odds and returning to the Stanley Cup finals for a second consecutive year.  Let’s hear it Steel City hoopleheads.

By sweeping the Carolina Hurricanes in four straight games, the Pens emerge as Eastern Conference champions.  That and a bunch of bruises gets them the Prince of Wales trophy, a shiny piece of hardware that the team refused to touch last year.  Why would they do that?  Well, last year they figured the goal was a bigger trophy known as the Stanley Cup.  After losing in six games to the Detroit Red Wings in the finals last spring, they ended up failing to get their mitts on any shiny metal.  So this year they decided to get close to the Prince of Wales trophy.  They grabbed it, posed with it, held it, caressed it.  Yes, it was like a soap commercial. 

Versus reporter Christine Simpson asked Penguins captain and all around greatest Canadian going Sidney Crosby why the change of heart.  Sir Sidney simply said, “Last year we didn’t touch it and things didn’t work out the way we wanted.”  Ah, the wonderful world of hockey were pros are more superstitious than Black Death survivors.

Obama Taps Sonia Sotomayor

Not much of a surprise this morning as President Obama selected frontrunner Sonia Sotomayor to replace retiring Supreme Court Justice David Souter.  She’s female, latino, and liberal.  Those are the basics anyway.  Oh yeah, she’s also the judge that stopped the Major League Baseball strike in 1995.

I wonder if she’ll go on Oprah.  At the very least, I expect Maya Rudolph to return to Saturday Night Live for this one.

Rather than pretend I’ve followed her career since the 90s, I’ll give you two breakdowns on the fresh pick.  Michelle Malkin and the New York Times have both already weighed in. 

You can bet the confirmation fight will go from snippy to snooty to snotty to plain ol’ nasty in a flash.  Sotomayor believes America often needs fixin’ and the bench is a great place to start.  That means conservatives will cringe as she attempts to dress up past rulings and writings.

The battle should make for an interesting summer.  I doubt Sotomayor will spend that time watching baseball though.

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Memorial Day Tribute

Last Saturday, an old man sat near the back of a Southwest plane flying from Tampa Bay, Florida.  I didn’t notice when he boarded.  I didn’t see him for a few hundred miles until a flight attendant strolled by asking for drink orders.  After she passed me I heard her say, “Thank you for your service.”

I’ve said those words to many strangers many times.  I knew she was speaking to a veteran.  I wondered what war this man had fought in. 

He answered, his voice faint yet steady.  “It truly was my pleasure,” the old man said. 

I believed him.

After a minute I turned to catch a glimpse of the old hero.  Only his head was visible.  A black ballcap with World War II written in red rested atop his gray hair.  Five or six pins stuck out from the face of the hat.  He wore glasses and smiled although he did not see me.  He looked to be in his mid-late seventies.

I bet you’ve seen someone just like him before.  There are veterans from a half dozen wars walking around America today.  Some will be at parades, some at ballgames, some on planes, and some in your neighborhood.  They will probably not tell you what they have done, will not brag.  At most, they’ll don a simple cap to identify themselves to the dwindling number of fellow servicemen and women who share those unique bonds as fellow fighters.  We cannot travel with them through their memories if we were not there. 

All we can do is to say thank you.  All you have to do is notice them.  Happy Memorial Day.

Take a few minutes on your day off to watch this short clip.  I think you’ll be amazed.  Thanks to the Evergreen Freedom Foundation for putting these pieces together.

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Please Enjoy This Greatness While You Wait

So I’ve survived some of the worst weather in Florida history.  Read all about it tomorrow and get ready for the wild world of Scientologists Gone Wild at Clearwater Beach.

In the meantime, here’s a little sampling of what’s been on my mind.  As Will Ferrell playing Alex Trebeck would say: “Simply stunning.”

What Does A Terrorist Look Like?

How do you feel about profiling terrorists? After flying to Florida via Philadelphia yesterday, my son made an interesting statement. “I thought that guy sitting across from me was a terrorist,” he said. Good thing the ACLU didn’t hear him.

Kids don’t know about political correctness. Many persnickety people would scold a child who observed the common appearances of people who commit acts of terror. I am not persnickety. In fact, even though he made the comment long after the flight, I knew exactly which passenger my boy meant. I had considered the same thing.

According to some folks, that makes me a bigot of some kind. I guess I am. I am morally opposed to terrorists and really struggle with that whole “love your enemies” command when it comes to those who wish to murder me, my family, and my country. I think they’re terrible humans and the world is better off with them dead. Forget water boarding by the way, chop off their fingers and toes one by one if such torture will result in information that will prevent future attacks and save American lives.

So I guess the part that makes me terrible is looking at a person of Middle Eastern descent and pondering whether or not he’s a terrorist. Yes, I said he. I have never looked at a Middle Eastern woman, child, or senior citizen and thought the same thing. I don’t assume these men are planning to kill me; I just pause to consider it. Especially when I’m on a plane and have been selected by a flight attendant to sit next to the emergency door over the wing in case we have to evacuate the passengers.

So do I think that all Muslim men are terrorists?

We’re All On Drugs

Pfizer is getting in on the bailout fun.  The pharmaceutical giant will provide free drugs to folks who have lost their jobs recently.  The interesting point here would have to do with the inclusion of Viagra for the jobless.

Call me old-fashioned, but if you’ve recently lost your job, the last thing you need is Viagra and the distractions that come with all that.  If your distractions last for more than four hours, how in the world will you get any applications filled out?  I would focus on beefing up a resume instead.  I can imagine the conversation.

DOCTOR: What seems to be the problem?

JOBLESS GUY: I recently lost my job.

DR.: What am I supposed to do?

JG : Give me Viagra.

DR.: Do you work in porn?

JG: No, I just want to be ready in case the time is right.

[Cue terrible music by middle-aged cover band]

One For The Ages

I’m a happily married, heterosexual guy, but I fear that my heart may soon be broken by another man.  It wouldn’t be the first time.

A couple hours before midnight last evening, the Washington Capitals managed to edge out the Pittsburgh Penguins in game 6 of what has been one of the greatest playoff series in sports history.  Over twenty years from now, when Sidney Crosby, Evgeni Malkin, and Alexander Ovechkin are in the Hall of Fame, fans and scribes will recall the 2nd round Stanley Cup playoff series of 2009.

I’ll let Hooks Orpik over at Pensburgh fill you in on what’s happened so far.  I’ve got too much on my mind, childhood trauma threatening to bring back that same recurring nightmare.  This nightmare is as real as a bird eating tarantula in Australia.  Fragmented visions replay over in my mind.  The face of the villain changes from one heartbreak to the next, and I fear this time the new face of devastation will be grinning and scruffy and Russian. 

Alexander Ovechkin, the most skilled goon in hockey history, has the most wicked wrist shot you’ve ever seen.  No matter how well the Pens shut him down, he’s always there, lurking, waiting to Capitalize on that one chance. 

He’s only the most recent villain in my string of menacing faces.  Every sports fan remembers those moments that your team didn’t win, the good guys didn’t pull it off.  Here are just four men who have broken my heart and made me wish I just didn’t care.

Sex Boycotts

Life imitated art this week in Africa as some Kenyan women called a play from the playbook of classical Greece. The men of Kenya continue to battle political opponents without doing any good for the people. Now those men don’t get to have sex for a while until they think about what they’ve done and change.

One man, James Kimondo is suing the leaders of G10, the coalition of women’s groups that has called for this national sex boycott. Kimondo is claiming anxiety and sleepless night since his wife is denying his “conjugal rights.” Ha! For the love of Ruth Bader Ginsberg. Where to begin?

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Giving No For An Answer

Leaders who have sparred for decades have put aside their differences to complain to each other about their wives.

In other news, Kenya’s prostitution industry is getting a ton of action this week.

Miss California Carrie Prejean could not be reached for comment, Hugh Heffner is appalled, and Perez Hilton doesn’t understand what the big deal is.

Let’s skip to Aristophanes, the world’s first comedic playwright. His play Lysistrata tells a similar tale of a woman tired of death and tragedy during the era of the Peloponnesian War in ancient Greece. Lysistrata convinces some other gals to hold out in the bedroom until the boys shape up. Unlike anti-war movies of today, Aristophanes actually experienced some success at the box office. Apparently sex strikes are funny as long as they’re fictional.