Wednesday, February 19, 2014
Olympic Games Debuts - Biathlon Mixed Relay | 90 Seconds Of The Olympics
I was watching some of this biathlon stuff from Sochi today and wondered "why not just shoot at the other competitors instead of little white targets?" It would certainly make it somewhat more interesting for me and watching someone ski faster than Franz Klammer UP HILL...well... can we say viral????? The down side, the silver and bronze medals would need to be awarded posthumously. Just saying.
anyways, here are some rules changes I would like to see "incorporated" for the Biathlon events in the upcoming 2018 Winter Games in Pyongyang, South Korea.
1) Shotgun Start (no pun intended). Unlike a "Shotgun" start in golf where competitors start at different locations on the course, ALL skiers start together with a starter/official pointing a shotgun at them and yelling GO! (the starter actually has TWO functions).
2) ALL competitor weapons will be empty of ammo for the first 25 yards of the race and then loading can commence. This will enable the initial "mad dash" to capture an audience. Skiers who are caught "loading" BEFORE the 25 yrd. marker will be strictly penalized (remember the starter and his shotgun?... that's right, "Right in the kisser Alice").
3) Double taps and "go-backs to shoot the lifeless corpse" are not encouraged but if a competitor feels compelled to attempt these thrilling moves then they are strongly asked to wave their arms prior to attempt so NBC can get a camera crew there.
4) Any competitor that CLEANLY shoots the eye out of a another competitor will be awarded a "Bob Costas" and extra points (not that they matter) will also be awarded and shooting BOTH eyes will be considered a.... yes, that's right... a "DOUBLE COSTAS" and the competitor gets their own half-hour show on FoxSports1.
5) If at anytime during the competition Evgeni Plushenko is spotted taking in the race as a spectator, a skier can shoot the poor guy and put him out of his misery. If this occurs then IMMEDIATELY the race stops and the remaining skiers, minus Evgenis retirement planner, MUST drop their weapons and successfully pull off a Triple Salchow... with skis. Those who complete this maneuver are free to ski off into the woods and play another day. The others must regain their weapons and shoot themselves. This maneuver will be called a "Cobain" and no points are awarded.
then maybe I'll watch it again in 4 years.
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Roger the Dodger
Sometimes, I am reminded of people, places, and situations by the most unusual of circumstances. A certain phrase, a color, a picture hanging on the wall… whatever. But I am brought back to that moment so vividly, so real, to what I am reminded of…to what has maybe touched my life. This happened to me this weekend. It happened, as most memories do for me, without warning, without intent and without malice. But this memory that occupied my thoughts this weekend really made me think… made me wonder, if I really try to be the best person I can. These memories are the ones that become so important in our lives. They steer us to a path that we so desperately need to take, the path that guides us in our lives, the path that leads us to our happiness. And so, I feel it’s time for me to share this particular memory with everyone, to share the person who so unknowingly changed my life…and my perceptions of this unfair world we live in today. I will share Roger, or as I called him… Roger the Dodger.
As some of you know, I live in the heart of Orange County, California. It's a very nice area with so much to do and see. My particular favorite place to go is Huntington Beach, where I surfed as a youngster and I now visit to admire the lovely sunsets and beautiful coastal views. It was one summer Sunday late afternoon a couple years ago, when I decided to grab a Café Latte and head down to HB to catch a glimpse of the shore and take a stroll along the beach. When I had completed my jaunt, I headed up the stairway that lies directly next to the HB pier. As I climbed the steps up, I began to hear the sound of an acoustic guitar being played so beautifully. As I climbed higher and neared the top of the stairs, I also heard singing, but to be very honest, the singing did not match the beautiful guitar sounds and did not compliment the well played instrument. My curiosity led me to the source.
Sitting on an over-turned five gallon bucket was this poor, shaggy homeless man. His clothes were exactly what you would expect of a person in his condition, his face, unshaven for months, his teeth missing, and the baseball cap on his head, filthy dirty. Next to him was a shopping cart, overfilled to the top with what looked like to me, trash, but to him, probably his most cherished and beloved possessions. Embarrassed, and feeling a little pity for him, I turned to leave but as I started walking away, he began to play "Rocky Raccoon" by the Beatles, and because I am such an overwhelming Beatles fanatic, I returned to listen. He played the song flawlessly, without mistakes, without imperfections, but again, when he began to sing…my heart sank.
When he finished, the three or four others around him kindly applauded his efforts, maybe tossed a couple coins in his guitar case, and left…and suddenly, it was just him and me.
I asked him his name. To be honest, I never really completely understood what he said, but it sounded like Roger, and so Roger I called him, and if this wasn't his name, he never, ever corrected me….and he never asked my name. When I asked, he told me how long he had been playing guitar, that the guitar he played, a lovely Gibson acoustic, had belonged to his brother who had been killed in Viet Nam. But when I asked about him, his situation, his life, he never answered me… he would not let me in that door. And at that precise moment the man completely intrigued me.
I do not know to this day what led me to do the next thing, and to be quite honest, I do not care. I am just so happy I did… I asked him if I could sing a song with him, and in doing so changed my life… forever.
The look on his face when I asked was one of first, shock…you want to sing with me???...a homeless bum?? But then, it changed to acceptance and gratitude. He asked what song I wished for and I said I know most of all the lyrics to every Beatles song…so could we do one of those? And then, I requested "Across The Universe", a personal favorite of mine. Roger, I found out later, had an unusual way of letting me know if he knew the song or not. He would stroke his beard, look off at nothing, and then, when he knew the chords in his mind, he would nod his head and tap the side of his guitar. (Later, I found that he did this to every song I requested…and it struck me as funny) And so, without preamble, without an introduction, he began to play…and play absolutely perfect. As a singer I have noticed throughout my short career, that when I get lost in a song, when I close my eyes and let my heart really do the singing, I can sing with the best of them…it's the one gift God has so graciously given me. When I began to sing, this is exactly what happened… I got so lost in the music.
When we finished that song, I opened my eyes, and was astounded to see twenty, thirty, maybe more, people… an AUDIENCE, in front of us…and each one was clapping, whistling, making a ruckus and tossing money in Roger's guitar case. And I looked to see Roger give me his toothless smile. And for almost two hours, I sat there with Roger playing Beatles song after Beatles song, to a larger, ever growing crowd. And at the end, when Roger returned his guitar to its case, and counted the money that was so generously offered by the group of strangers, he gave me another toothless smile and informed me that there was almost $165.00 in his hand….and he wanted me to take half, for which I declined, for which I did not want. Because, the joy he had given me for those two hours, was all the compensation I needed OR wanted.
For several months after that, I met Roger almost every Sunday, playing our songs, the two of us looking as such a strange duo…and we ALWAYS started our set with "Across The Universe". One Sunday, I brought Roger a new ball cap, A L.A. Dodger hat which he always wore on our Sunday meetings, and always made me feel good to see him in it. And although we never quite hit our $165.00 record of the first day, I could tell that Roger absolutely enjoyed himself…and at the end, he would always offer me half the take, and always, I would say no, but thanks anyways. The thing is, Roger never figured out that I went down to HB for him, and that I just wanted him to get enough money so he could survive the week and meet me again the following Sunday. Because, with him, I very much enjoyed those afternoons and very much enjoyed his musical company.
I haven't seen Roger in six months now, and I was told recently that he may have passed. I do not believe that however and I will continue to find myself at HB, listening for Roger…Roger the Dodger. And if God has called him back into His arms then I can say only one more thing…Roger…let's play…one last time, Across The Universe…
Sometimes, I am reminded of people, places, and situations by the most unusual of circumstances. A certain phrase, a color, a picture hanging on the wall… whatever. But I am brought back to that moment so vividly, so real, to what I am reminded of…to what has maybe touched my life. This happened to me this weekend. It happened, as most memories do for me, without warning, without intent and without malice. But this memory that occupied my thoughts this weekend really made me think… made me wonder, if I really try to be the best person I can. These memories are the ones that become so important in our lives. They steer us to a path that we so desperately need to take, the path that guides us in our lives, the path that leads us to our happiness. And so, I feel it’s time for me to share this particular memory with everyone, to share the person who so unknowingly changed my life…and my perceptions of this unfair world we live in today. I will share Roger, or as I called him… Roger the Dodger.
As some of you know, I live in the heart of Orange County, California. It's a very nice area with so much to do and see. My particular favorite place to go is Huntington Beach, where I surfed as a youngster and I now visit to admire the lovely sunsets and beautiful coastal views. It was one summer Sunday late afternoon a couple years ago, when I decided to grab a Café Latte and head down to HB to catch a glimpse of the shore and take a stroll along the beach. When I had completed my jaunt, I headed up the stairway that lies directly next to the HB pier. As I climbed the steps up, I began to hear the sound of an acoustic guitar being played so beautifully. As I climbed higher and neared the top of the stairs, I also heard singing, but to be very honest, the singing did not match the beautiful guitar sounds and did not compliment the well played instrument. My curiosity led me to the source.
Sitting on an over-turned five gallon bucket was this poor, shaggy homeless man. His clothes were exactly what you would expect of a person in his condition, his face, unshaven for months, his teeth missing, and the baseball cap on his head, filthy dirty. Next to him was a shopping cart, overfilled to the top with what looked like to me, trash, but to him, probably his most cherished and beloved possessions. Embarrassed, and feeling a little pity for him, I turned to leave but as I started walking away, he began to play "Rocky Raccoon" by the Beatles, and because I am such an overwhelming Beatles fanatic, I returned to listen. He played the song flawlessly, without mistakes, without imperfections, but again, when he began to sing…my heart sank.
When he finished, the three or four others around him kindly applauded his efforts, maybe tossed a couple coins in his guitar case, and left…and suddenly, it was just him and me.
I asked him his name. To be honest, I never really completely understood what he said, but it sounded like Roger, and so Roger I called him, and if this wasn't his name, he never, ever corrected me….and he never asked my name. When I asked, he told me how long he had been playing guitar, that the guitar he played, a lovely Gibson acoustic, had belonged to his brother who had been killed in Viet Nam. But when I asked about him, his situation, his life, he never answered me… he would not let me in that door. And at that precise moment the man completely intrigued me.
I do not know to this day what led me to do the next thing, and to be quite honest, I do not care. I am just so happy I did… I asked him if I could sing a song with him, and in doing so changed my life… forever.
The look on his face when I asked was one of first, shock…you want to sing with me???...a homeless bum?? But then, it changed to acceptance and gratitude. He asked what song I wished for and I said I know most of all the lyrics to every Beatles song…so could we do one of those? And then, I requested "Across The Universe", a personal favorite of mine. Roger, I found out later, had an unusual way of letting me know if he knew the song or not. He would stroke his beard, look off at nothing, and then, when he knew the chords in his mind, he would nod his head and tap the side of his guitar. (Later, I found that he did this to every song I requested…and it struck me as funny) And so, without preamble, without an introduction, he began to play…and play absolutely perfect. As a singer I have noticed throughout my short career, that when I get lost in a song, when I close my eyes and let my heart really do the singing, I can sing with the best of them…it's the one gift God has so graciously given me. When I began to sing, this is exactly what happened… I got so lost in the music.
When we finished that song, I opened my eyes, and was astounded to see twenty, thirty, maybe more, people… an AUDIENCE, in front of us…and each one was clapping, whistling, making a ruckus and tossing money in Roger's guitar case. And I looked to see Roger give me his toothless smile. And for almost two hours, I sat there with Roger playing Beatles song after Beatles song, to a larger, ever growing crowd. And at the end, when Roger returned his guitar to its case, and counted the money that was so generously offered by the group of strangers, he gave me another toothless smile and informed me that there was almost $165.00 in his hand….and he wanted me to take half, for which I declined, for which I did not want. Because, the joy he had given me for those two hours, was all the compensation I needed OR wanted.
For several months after that, I met Roger almost every Sunday, playing our songs, the two of us looking as such a strange duo…and we ALWAYS started our set with "Across The Universe". One Sunday, I brought Roger a new ball cap, A L.A. Dodger hat which he always wore on our Sunday meetings, and always made me feel good to see him in it. And although we never quite hit our $165.00 record of the first day, I could tell that Roger absolutely enjoyed himself…and at the end, he would always offer me half the take, and always, I would say no, but thanks anyways. The thing is, Roger never figured out that I went down to HB for him, and that I just wanted him to get enough money so he could survive the week and meet me again the following Sunday. Because, with him, I very much enjoyed those afternoons and very much enjoyed his musical company.
I haven't seen Roger in six months now, and I was told recently that he may have passed. I do not believe that however and I will continue to find myself at HB, listening for Roger…Roger the Dodger. And if God has called him back into His arms then I can say only one more thing…Roger…let's play…one last time, Across The Universe…
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