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?

 

 

 

Where does the love of God go?

A day or two after the news of the devastating earthquake in Turkey back on Feb. 6, I posted on Facebook that the then estimated death toll of the natural disaster had surpassed 21,000 people – human beings – and that that unfathomable number was already larger by thousands than the population of our cozy little town of Lexington (19,094 in 2019).

That number was almost inconceivable to me. In just a few seconds, tens of thousands of people had perished. Living, breathing, thinking entities in one moment doing common, everyday, routine human things, then gone the next.

In my own head, I thought the death toll perhaps would reach into the 30,000 range. But no, as of today, it's estimated that an astounding 47,000 people have died. I suppose, in the end, it could reach 50,000 or 60,000. Maybe higher.

Incredibly, three weeks later, a few survivors are still being pulled from the weight and debris of fallen buildings.

Then, the other day, I received a text from one of my friends, writing that the climbing death toll "Wouldn't seem to qualify as an act of God."

That one hit me square, and got me to thinking as I am sometimes wont to do.

Although that particular phrase is mostly used for insurance purposes, I think I know what he meant: if God is a loving God, how could He allow a natural disaster like this to happen? If we are His creation, why destroy us? Would destroying us be suggesting He made a mistake in our creation? So then He's not omniscient if he made a mistake? Do people die in natural disasters because they are bad people and this is their punishment? If that's true, then how can He be a loving God, as most of us are taught, and not a wrathful one? Is He both?

Side note: if 50,000 people are killed in a natural disaster, does that mean any survivors were blessed by the grace of God? Is God that selective? What's his criteria for us surviving disasters?

I'm no theologian. I'm simply thinking out loud here.

There are a plethora of natural disasters that plague us: hurricanes, tornadoes, floods, droughts, fires that cost lives. What about wars? Just a few hundred miles across the Black Sea from Turkey is Ukraine, fighting for its very life in an unjust and illegal war started by Russia. Thousands have died there, and no doubt more will. Where is God?

I read somewhere that natural disasters (and thus evil) are the work of the devil. So why is there a devil? If God is omnipotent, why can't He eliminate the devil? Or was that another mistake?

Or are natural disasters – or wars, or disease, or plane or car crashes, or Jan. 6 or Adolf Hitler – God's own free will, where after creation He set the whole thing into motion and then sat back to see how it all plays out?

Since we die anyway, what does all of this mean? That natural disasters get us to death sooner?

I'm not sure I can find many answers in the Bible. The Bible is said to be the word of God, but wasn't the Bible written by humans who may or may not have misinterpreted the word? Isn't most of the Bible allegorical history, designed to teach and set guidelines to help us make society work? And isn't the Bible mostly a Christian tool that we use to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth? What about other religions? What about Judaism, Hinduism, Shintoism, Buddhism, or even Deism and others? Is anybody right? Is anybody wrong?

Where does the love of God go?

 

Super anxiety, part II

Well, here we are, less than 10 hours before kickoff to Super Bowl LVII (that's 57 in case your Roman numerals are a little rusty), and I'm already a mess.

That's because I have something of a vested interest in this game today as the Philadelphia Eagles take on the Kansas City Chiefs for the Lombardi Trophy.

 I was born an hour north of Philadelphia 72 years ago today – in Allentown, to be precise – and I've been a sports fan of anything Philly since I was a pre-teenager. I've been an Eagles fan for almost 60 years and I guess a Phillies fan for longer than that. I often have genetically induced cravings for cheese steaks, hoagies, Tastykakes and A-Treat sodas. I just can't help it.

So I'm pulling for the Eagles today, although you already knew that.

But being a fan from Philly also means you bring a little extra baggage to the game. You hope for the best while expecting the worst. It's in our DNA.

That's where I am today.

This is only the fourth Super Bowl appearance in 57 years for the Eagles. Many of us Eaglers are still living off 2018 when the Eagles unveiled the cherished and perfectly executed Philly Special to defeat Tom Brady – the best quarterback of all time – and the New England Patriots 41-33.

Now we're facing the Chiefs, and I like to think that the two best teams in the NFL are going against each other.

There are some interesting story lines for this game, which no doubt will be explored in depth during all the pre-game hoopla today. For one, it's the first time the opposing quarterbacks – Patrick Mahones of KC and Jalen Hurts of Philly – happen to be men of color. It's kind of hard for me to believe it's taken 57 years for that to happen, but, hey, ain't this America?

It's also the first time two brothers – tight end Travis Kelce of KC and center Jason Kelce of Philly – will face each other. The neat thing here is that both siblings already own Super Bowl rings.

And, of course, KC head coach Andy Reid once coached the Eagles himself, taking them to the Super Bowl in 2005, where they lost to Brady and the Patriots 24-21. (This feels like some kind of a Brady loop). From what I can gather, there's a ton of respect from Eagles fans toward Reid, who is still held in high regard along the Schuylkill River.

So what is my take on the game?

It's a tough call. Both teams can be explosive offensively and both teams are tight defensively, with maybe a slight edge to the Eagles and their league-leading 70 regular-season sacks.  It's at quarterback where the game will be decided, and KC might have the edge here. Mahones already has Super Bowl experience, as well as a ring. Hurts, for as good as he's been this year, needs to show he's ready for prime time when it counts. We'll see.

My pick, of course, will be the Eagles. 28-25.

Now where's that cheese steak?

GOP glossary

There's an old adage or axiom or old wives tale floating around out there that says we get the government that we deserve. Even if that's true, I'm not sure that we deserve the Republican Caucus of the newly-installed 118th Congress, which features a slew of election deniers, incompetents, hypocrites, crazies and idiots. Most of them have single-handedly lowered the collective IQ of the House of Representatives.

Here's my abbreviated list (or glossary, if you will) of the absurdists in government:

Lauren Boebert, 3rd District of Colorado: The other day, while pointing out that the United States owns 46 percent of the world's firearms, this election denier told Congress that she thinks we need to own even more. In a country that sees mass shootings almost every day, where is her logic? She serves on the Natural Resources and Oversight committees in Congress. She also owns a bar called Shooters in a place called Rifle, CO. Enough said.

Matt Gaetz, 1st District of Florida: An election denier, he is currently under investigation for sex trafficking involving a 17-year-old female. Admittedly, the case has stalled for witness credibility issues, but Gaetz, with a 9 percent approval rating, is close enough to the case to draw interest. Anyway, Gaetz serves on the Armed Services (he's never served in the military) and Judiciary (he is a lawyer) committees. Perfect.

Marjorie Taylor Greene, 14th District of Georgia: Perhaps the nuttiest of them all, this election denier claimed Jewish space lasers caused the rash of fires in California last summer. She claims 9-11 was an inside job. She stalks survivors of the Parkland school shooting. She asked for the common man in the street to shoot down the Chinese spy balloon, 10 miles in the sky. My favorite, though, is when she compared the Biden administration to the Gazpacho police. She meant the Nazi's Gestapo, of course, not cold soup. Maybe she was referring to the soup Nazi, who knows? She serves on the Homeland Security and Oversight committees. God help us.

Paul Gosar, 4th District of Arizona: A dentist by profession, and an election denier by choice, he once posted a cartoon of himself shooting Democratic colleague Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez and President Joe Biden. He is so right-wing extreme even his siblings have called for his removal from office. He serves on the Natural Resources and Oversight committees. Indeed.

Jim Jordan, 4th District of Ohio: Flamboyant, often without a sport coat to show how hard working he is, Jordan recently took his position as chairman of the Judiciary committee. This is rich: he is currently issuing subpoenas to the Department of Justice to investigate anything the Democrats have done while ignoring subpoenas served to him by the Jan. 6 Committee for his alleged involvement and support of the insurrection riot. And don't even ask him about his days as an assistant wrestling coach at The Ohio State during those sex scandal allegations. He didn't know a thing about it. What a joke. He is promoting government by retribution, and not for the people.

George Santos, 3rd District of New York: This guy, a pathological liar, at least voluntarily gave up his committee posts. Which means all he does now is walk the halls of Congress happily telling the media more lies. Sheesh.

There are others Republicans of concern: Kevin McCarthy, the wishy-washy House speaker who made impossible promises to get his speakership on the 15th ballot; Mark Meadows, Trump's former chief of staff; Scott Perry, a Representative from Pennsylvania who is so deep into Jan. 6 that he asked Trump for a presidential pardon; Florida governor Ron Desantis, who is such a racist it borders on the criminal. You could go on and on: Donald Trump, Rudy Guiliani, and two-thirds of the Supreme Court who have lost most of their credibility among Americans, especially after reversing Roe v. Wade.

I don't think this is what James Madison had in mind for us 234 years ago.