Tourney tumbler

I never thought I'd live to see the day when I'd become a Miami Hurricanes fan.

But here I am, patiently waiting for this evening's final NCAA Men's Basketball Tournament quarterfinal game pitting the 'Canes against Texas for the right to advance to the Final Four.

How did this happen? How did I get here?

In my admittedly flawed self-analysis, I think this goes back to my days as a sports writer for The Dispatch, where I had the distinct pleasure of covering the Atlantic Coast Conference. The ACC was the center of the collegiate basketball universe back in those days and, as a consequence, I subsequently became an ACC snob.

So whenever the NCAA Tournament rolled around, I'd unprofessionally pull for all the ACC teams in that year's field.

That was back in the days when there were eight teams in the conference. But expansion has altered my perception of the league. There are now 15 teams in two divisions and the rhythm of the league's ebb and flow seems somehow diminished to me. It's unwieldy. Some of the teams, like Notre Dame, Louisville, Syracuse and Pitt are so far from the actual Atlantic Coast as to be absurd, if not comedic.

Several of the teams are refugees from the former Big East Conference, like the aforementioned Pitt and Syracuse. But you can also throw in Boston College and, yes, Miami. So maybe they should rename the league the Big Eastern Seaboard Conference. Still unwieldy, but at least it's a bit more geographically accurate. I mean, what are we teaching these kids about maps and GPS anyway?

But I digress. 

On Friday, the No. 5 seed Hurricanes took a huge step by humiliating No. 1 seeded Houston 89-75. In the round of 32, the 'Canes clobbered Indiana 85-69. In the opening round, Miami nudged Drake 63-56 in its closest game of the tourney.

Miami players like Isaiah Wong, Norchad Omier and Nijel Pack have run right through Tobacco Road to the sun-kissed beaches of Florida, taking the ACC with them. We'll see if the ride continues today.

And speaking of Florida, here's Florida Atlantic (good geographic name), a No. 9 seed, doing its best Cinderella impression, especially after knocking off No. 3 Kansas State 79-76 yesterday to make it to the Final Four! When did Florida become the basketball universe?

Where's Duke? Where's Kentucky? Where's Indiana? Where's UCLA? Maybe it's time for new blood to reign in the NCAA, I don't know.

Right now, I'll be pulling for the 'Canes, mostly because of my ACC habit. But of the teams remaining, I kind of like Connecticut. The Huskies appear to be well-rounded, especially with the likes of 7-2 freshman Donovan Clingan in the middle and Adama Sanogo on the wing.

Anything can happen on a given night, but if form follows form, watch out for the Huskies.

I just Woke up

For several years now, I kept hearing this word in political conversation that was meant to express an ideology of social awareness, particularly in affairs of racism and justice.

That's what it was to be "woke." At first, I thought it was a misuse of the past tense and past participle of wake, and yet, in its urban dictionary context, it somehow made sense.

It certainly did in the Black community, where the colloquial "woke" originated as far back as the 1930s, if not earlier. Back then, it meant to be aware of your surroundings, especially while wandering in a racially dangerous and unjustly biased world. It even showed up in a protest song, "Scottsboro Boys", by Lead Belly (He sings "Stay woke" at the end of the song).

The word gained resurrected credence (or "cred") with the Black Lives Matter movement, especially after the deadly police shooting of Michael Brown in Ferguson, Missouri. "Woke" was added to the BLM rhetoric after the fatal police shootings of Eric Gardner and Tamir Rice and others and soon, its meaning came to encompass gender equality, gender identity, reproductive rights and voting rights, among a host of other social issues.

Somewhere along the way, the word "woke" was co-opted by the Republican Party as a pejorative and as a way for them to "own the libs", which seems to define the very existence of the party these days since it has no other serious platform to explain itself.

Ironic, isn't it, that a party committed to restricting voting rights and healthcare issues (to the point where maternal mortality is actually rising in a country that styles itself as advanced) should commandeer a word that originated in the Black community? Because of the GOP cynicism, we now have illogical absurdities like college boards and school boards banning books, of all things. Critical Race Theory (which is a theory and discussed only in graduate college courses) and the 1619 Project can no longer be subject material, by law, in some schools. Once again, whites have found a way to subjugate African-Americans, only now it's 2023.

Actually, I'm not sure anybody really knows what woke means, much less Republicans. It just might mean anything you want it to mean. I guess if you shout "woke" often enough, people might think you're on to something.

If being woke means to be socially aware, then why is the GOP so intent on being asleep? All I hear coming out of the mouths of Republican politicians like Ron DeSantis, Donald Trump, Ted Cruz, et al, is woke, woke woke. It's a call to move our society backwards, to a time we can no longer be.

They've misused the word to mean something else and it's become a political rallying point for the GOP. If anything, each time they scream woke, or to become anti-woke, it tells me how uniformed they truly are. If I am woke, then I wear the word as a badge of honor. We all should if being woke means moving social justice forward. We all should if it means not being afraid of new ideas and perspectives.

We all should if it means accepting people into our circles who are not like us. In my world, that is being woke, and it's not wrong.

Siemens changes things

 Back in the mid-1970s, when I first arrived in Lexington as a wet-behind-the-ears sports writer for The Dispatch, I found myself in the middle of a burgeoning and historic furniture and textile district.

And I didn't even know it.  I mean, I came from eastern Pennsylvania. We had Bethlehem Steel, suppliers of the material that built the Golden Gate Bridge.

But here, furniture and textiles were the lifeblood of the Davidson County community. Manufacturing factories were everywhere in Lexington, and indeed, in the area. Thomasville had its big chair and High Point had its international furniture market. It was amazing.

Everybody knew at least one person who worked in a furniture factory or textile mill, it seemed.

Then, after more than 100 years, it all disappeared. By the 1990s, the factories had closed down and moved to more profitable sites overseas. Against all logic, it seemed, it was actually cheaper to ship raw materials from the United States, mostly to Asia, where it was crafted by pennies-on-the-dollar labor. Then the product, now noticeably inferior to what was once made here (truism: you get what you pay for), was sent back to the States for assembly and consumption.

Davidson County spent the next couple of decades trying to recover and repurpose itself, the empty factories in the middle of Lexington and Thomasville serving as harsh reminders of what had once been. Community leaders began earnest, sometimes frantic attempts to attract new industry that would offer well-paying jobs and benefits.

The arrival of particleboard manufacturer Egger in 2018 provided a significant boost to the area. Homes were being sold and apartments were being rented and it certainly helped the local economy. And then, last week, Siemens Mobility announced it would build a plant on 200 aces at the industrial park on Brown Street where it will build passenger railcars. Operations are expected to begin in 2024 with 500 employees.

 As a resident of Lexington, I cannot be happier. Siemens, an internationally known corporation, will become the largest taxpayer in Davidson County, which should mean that city and county services will be upgraded and improved, including health and education.

For the life of me, I could never understand why it took this long to attract major industry to the area. The railroad runs through the middle of the county as does an Interstate highway; we are located in a population center that includes Charlotte, Winston-Salem and Greensboro; and taxes are generally lower in Davidson County than in neighboring counties. We even have an airport, for crying out loud.

I am not privy to the politics that goes into luring corporations to job-hungry communities. I don't see the money that changes hands or the sly winks that are closely guarded. But it's probably always been that way and probably always will be. All that really matters is that the jobs will be here soon.

And I suspect Siemens will be here for a long time. Railroads are the arteries of commerce in this country and railcars will always be in demand. Even in the future, when flux capacitors have us traveling through time, Siemens will probably be the brand you see on the package. 

It's about time. It changes everything for us here in Davidson County. And that's a good thing.

Surgical precision

I'm not usually one to call attention to myself. I prefer to remain in the shadows. That's just the way I'm wired.

Unless, of course, I have five laparoscopic holes in my belly. Then I'll lift my shirt in a heartbeat to show you my new mini incisions.

Don't ask me why. I guess it's just the way I'm wired. I am, after all, telling you about it in a blog.

Let me back up a bit.

I had laparoscopic surgery on Wednesday at Wake Forest Baptist Health to remove the remaining nub of my gall bladder that was left behind from the original gall bladder surgery I had three years ago. It was left behind because of how involved it was with the nearby liver, pancreas and bile duct. I've been told its not unusual to leave surgical remnants behind. And for three years, I had no issues.

Then, suddenly, what was left of the gall bladder decided it was time to throw more stones at me. It can do that. Apparently, I'm among the five percent or so who experience a rejuvenated gall bladder attack after initial removal. So a specialist was consulted, and on Wednesday, we took care of it. I had the surgery at around noon, and I was back home watching television by 7 p.m. that day. Amazing.

That's the thing about laparoscopic surgery: less pain than an open incision, little to no hospital stay for recovery, maybe even a shorter recovery time at home.

I tell you this not to solicit sympathy, or free food, or extra attention. During my recent hospital visits I saw many people walking the hallways with far more serious issues then mine: cancer, amputations, heart conditions, respiratory ailments, renal conditions. A friend of mine recently had a kidney transplant after years of dialysis and anxiety. Another friend is recovering from a spinal infection. What I had was a nuisance by comparison. Know that I know that.

The funny thing is that this gall stone issue popped up in the middle of my regularly scheduled slate of medical appointments. I have a dermatology appointment this week. Then there's my annual eye exam next week, followed by a follow-up with my gall bladder surgeon the week after. Then we wrap things up with a visit to my dentist near the end of the month to fill a cavity. All of these appointments are in March alone. I have no more body functions for annual examination.

I do have post-it notes lining my kitchen door frame to remind me of where I'm supposed to be next. I have more appointments now in retirement than I ever did when I was a working stiff.

Anyway, I'm in the recovery process now. I'm not supposed to lift anything more than 15 pounds for the next four to six weeks, which means I have to watch the weeds take over my lawn as spring approaches. No 20-pound bags of weed and feed; no 30-pound bags of grass seed in my immediate future. Oh, and no gym time.

I also get to drive my wife nuts. It's the only driving I'm allowed to do while I'm taking Hydrocodone.

So I guess I'm limited to reading, watching TV and showing people my laparoscopic holes. I humor myself by telling people I've been shot five times because the incisions look like bullet holes. A friend of mine said I should embellish the story and tell them I was shot five times saving a baby during a drive-by shooting. Or maybe a kitten. Yeah, that's it. I was shot five times saving a kitten.

After all, why should I bring attention to myself?