Lose Your Self T-Shirt

Finding Peace on the Open Road in Florida

Lose Your Self: Be the Traffic Heading the Other Way

Driving home from the pool room the other day, I found myself stuck behind a miserable old goat who was driving an ugly oversized gold-colored boat. Not only was the senile fart dragging his ass, he was constantly brake-checking me, hitting his brakes, flashing his brake lights, even though there was no one in front of him for about a mile. I would’ve passed him if I could, but the section of road we were on didn’t offer any safe passing zones.

As luck would have it, he turned off on the same two-lane side road that I was taking. I knew from past observation that the road immediately presented a wide open passing zone with good visibility, so I slid over into the oncoming lane to pass. Unfortunately, for some reason, the ornery son-of-a-bitch didn’t want to be passed. As I drew even with him, he floored it. Suddenly, we were both doing 55 in a 40 mile per hour zone. Thankfully, my ride had a little more power than his boat and I finally managed to get around him. I thanked him for his cordiality by flipping him the bird.

My driving philosophy is simple. If someone wants to go faster than me, I let them pass. And, if someone’s in my way, I go around them. Hey, in brief, everyone should be able to drive at his own chosen speed. This usually works out pretty well for me, but every once in a while you run into one of these assholes who don’t like to get passed. They’d rather see you smack into a Mack Truck head-on than let you back into traffic.

Florida is the premier spawning ground for road rage. I hate to point my finger at old people as the cause, but, honestly, a lot of them should not be driving. I pulled up at a red light not too long ago and found myself alongside an old guy who had oxygen tubes coming from his nose with his head thrown back at a severe angle and his mouth wide open. He looked like he was at death’s door; yet, he was still driving. You can’t go a mile without some old geezer cutting out in front of you. Their minds are shot as are their reflexes. But, they drive.

Anyway, rather than spending all my time behind the wheel with my nerves on edge and my gut tied in a knot, I’ve developed a technique which allows me to lose my self and go with the flow. It starts by my observation of the traffic coming toward me. I’m sure the dramas that are occurring in front of me conspiring to hold me up are also transpiring in the oncoming lane. Yet, since they don’t directly affect me, they are not a source of tension. At the same time, it occurs to me that to those heading the opposite way I am the traffic heading the other way. As such, that occurring in front of me is meaningless to them and, ultimately, to me. From here, I arrive at a peaceful place.

I’m Just Sayin’ and Sayin’ and Sayin’

Almost overnight, it seems “I’m Just Sayin’” has slipped into our everyday lexicon and this, ya know, leaves me wondering if it’s a phrase I’ve recently picked up or one I’ve always used. Hard to figure.

I find myself employing it more and more, most often when the person I’m talking to, most often my dear wife, takes offense, disagrees or, ya know, somehow responds negatively to something I’m saying.

“Michael Jackson was a pervert.”
“I can’t believe you would say something like that!”
“I’m just sayin’…”

It slips out so naturally that I can’t believe it’s not, ya know, a phrase I’ve been using since… since… since back in the day or, as I prefer, once upon a time. I mean, there are times when I actually think, ya know, that I am responsible for introducing the expression into our vernacular.

I’m just sayin’.

With the help of google, I found out that a sports blog by Danny Picard, a sports writer for Comcast SportsNet New England, is entitled “I’m Just Sayin’.” Similarly, there’s “I'm Just Sayin'! - A Kevin and Bean Show Fan Blog.” Then, there’s “I’m Just Sayin’ Is All” , not to be confused with “I’m Just Sayin’” a personal blog by mom, friend, writer Robyn Passante. Add to these “I’m Just Sayin’” by Ramonassister. There are also a series of blog entries under the heading of “I’m Just Sayin’” at Comic Nexus.

I wondered, ya know, about the origin of the expression and found a lengthy discussion at Pain In The English. Philosophically speaking, it was explored here.

And you might have heard Jon Stewart’s reaction to The CNN segment called “Just Sayin’.”

Not long ago, ya know, during an ESPN interview an athlete peppered his responses with countless repetitions of “know what I’m sayin’?” It’s a word whisker. I’ve decided I like it more than the common “ya know” and pledge to incorporate it into my daily speech patterns.

Know what I’m sayin’?

No Sweat Religion

If following a religion kills people, it is, by definition, a bad religion and a foolhardy waste of time. An alternative perspective exists within me and I feel compelled to share it with you.

My religion doesn’t require or recommend spiritual retreats. It considers them a waste of time. Every moment of every day, no matter where you are, you are engaged in life and positioned on a spiritual plane. Like it or not, so it is. I would prefer you don’t meditate, or medicate, or, for that matter, pray or prey. These things only cloud and obscure The Truth which we seek.

Love? No, I’m sorry. There’s no place for love in this religion. Nor, hate. Let’s try to keep the emotions in check as much as possible. I have it on good authority that they are merely autonomic responses to our visceral environment, anyway. Abandoning emotion is a necessity for achieving Oneness the goal of Altruistic Aceyteeism. It takes some work, but in time it will become first nature.

For example, take my own path. Because of the circumstances of my early life, for many years upon meeting someone I always took for granted that he or she did not like me. This sense was so ingrained that without thinking I reacted to all strangers as if they were enemies. Of course, now, I realize how wasteful and counter-productive this was and how it prevented me from experiencing what was actually going on. It kept me from The Truth. Now that I meet people without expectations and without activating automatic defense systems, I am able to view them as they are or, in the vernacular or our religion, I can See them.

Now, that I have attained The Oneness, as you will in time, I can glide through the day not hating, not loving, just seeing and being and understanding. Call it Peace, call it Bliss, call it Nirvana, but don't call it Kurt Cobain. Just kidding. So, it is.

Unlike many organized religions, mine does not rely on collection plates or baskets. I do, however, take donations which I accept with no emotion whatsoever.

Stalking Shoeless Joe Jackson

Sure, I’m a Yankee fan. Always have been. Still, beyond that, I’m a baseball fan which is why, as a kid, I used to pour thru the box scores looking to see how the other stars of the day made out, guys like Ted Williams, Stan Musial, Willie Mays, Sandy Koufax and Duke Snider. So, knowing that, it shouldn’t be too surprising to learn that, during our recent sojourn to Greenville, SC, I made it a point to visit the sites associated with baseball legend Shoeless Joe Jackson.

For those of you unfamiliar with the life and career of Shoeless Joe, there are plenty of sites out there you can reference: The Shoeless Joe Jackson Museum site, Shoeless Joe at Wikipedia, Shoeless Joe Jackson’s Virtual Hall of Fame and Shoeless Joe at the Chicago Historical Society’s site.

In a nutshell, while playing for the Chicago White Sox in 1919, Joe was implicated in the scandal which saw several of his teammates accused of throwing games during the World Series. Though he was acquitted during a subsequent trial, his ban from baseball at the hands of Commissioner Kenesaw Mountain Landis stands till this day. Because of this, Jackson has not been able to assume his proper place in baseball history as a member of the Hall of Fame.

Said Joe on the subject in 1942, “Regardless of what anybody says, I was innocent of any wrong-doing. I gave baseball all I had. The Supreme Being is the only one to whom I’ve got to answer. If I had been out there booting balls and looking foolish at bat against the Reds, there might have been some grounds for suspicion. I think my record in the 1919 World Series will stand up against that of any other man in that Series or any other World Series in all history.”

In actuality, his stats for the series seem to support his innocence. During the 1919 Series, Joe played flawless baseball, hitting .375, the highest on either team. He had twelve hits (a tie for the World Series record at the time); six RBIs and no errors in eight games. He accounted for eleven of twenty runs by the Sox; and he hit the only home run in the Series!

Several of the sites cited above give visitors the opportunity to communicate to commissioner Bud Selig their desire to have Joe Jackson reinstated. Among those who have supported his reinstatement were Bob Feller and, now deceased, Ted Williams.

Regarding Shoeless Joe’s hitting prowess, Babe Ruth said it all. "I copied (Shoeless Joe) Jackson's style because I thought he was the greatest hitter I had ever seen, the greatest natural hitter I ever saw. He's the guy who made me a hitter." - Babe Ruth.

But, I digress. When my better half, Uppy, planned our recent getaway to Greenville, SC, she allowed for the Joe Jackson homage in order to give me something to do. To her credit, she also planned on my touring the local pool rooms but, as luck would have it, by the time we arrived I was in the throws of a miserable cold. I tried to play the part of the happy traveler, but I just didn’t feel like battling a runny nose while bent over the table.

Anyway, the first thing we located was the bronze statue created by Greenville sculptor Doug Young. Dedicated on July 13, 2002, baseball celeb Tommy Lasorda spoke at the ceremony. Here are our pics (please note, if I’m in the pic, Uppy was wielding the camera):




Joe and Me


BTW, Those Bricks Are From Comiskey Park

Joe grew up in the Brandon Mill Community. He started working in the mills at age 7, which is the primary reason for his lack of a formal education. Soon after, his talent for baseball was discovered and he was enlisted to play on the Brandon Mill team which competed against other mill leagues in the area. On March 30, 1996, the field built on the site where Joe played as a boy was named Shoeless Joe Jackson Memorial Park in his honor. We arrived there pretty early in the morning, before the haze had a chance to burn off.


Give Me An S!
Give Me An O!
Give Me An A!
PLEASE.


Field Of Dreams


Infield Of Dreams

Next, we decided to drive out to the cemetery where Joe and his wife Katie were buried. Woodlawn Memorial Park, according to Uppy who knows cemeteries, is a “lovely” place to be buried. Unfortunately, there are no road signs directing visitors to Shoeless Joe’s resting place. Luckily, I spotted a gentleman touring the grounds in a golf cart. When I asked him about Shoeless Joe, he insisted on leading us to the grave. Thank goodness, because we never would have found it on our own.


A Lovely Place


That's Me On Deck


Things Left Behind

Last stop, The Shoeless Joe Jackson Museum. In 2006, the house where Joe and his wife Katie had lived was moved from 119 East Wilburn Street to its present location 356 Field Street, across from Fluor Field. (The "356" pays tribute to Joe's lifetime batting average of .356) Pictures detailing the move can be found on the museum’s website. The museum, a charming little structure, opened promptly at 10 AM, just as we arrived. The guides generously filled us in on the Jackson lore and history and made us happy we had included the stop on our tour. I kicked myself, later, for not taking some pictures inside, but I did snap a couple outside.





I have to hand it to Uppy, she did a good job planning this trip. We’re already looking forward to a return to Greenville.

Monday Morning Quarterbacking

The Fantasy Baseball season is winding down. Here’s how things stand right now. I have one championship to show for the 4 Yahoo! Leagues I competed in. My one MLB.com team was never in the race even though I had Albert Pujols on my team. As we enter the final week of competition, I’m leading in the run for the championship in the two ESPN Leagues I’m in, though both contests are tight and things could turn on a point here or there.

Meanwhile, Fantasy Football is in full swing. It's early but trends are developing, some good, some bad.

First, let’s look at the four Yahoo! Leagues, three private one public, I’m in. In Joe Willie Nation, a league I started a few years back, I’m 2-1 on the strength of strong performances by Peyton Manning and Maurice Jones-Drew. Jones-Drew, BTW, was listed as Probable before the game, but, luckily, I decided to stick with him. I screwed up in other similar situations, having benched Randy Moss and DeSean Jackson, because of fears related to reported injuries. Both played and played well, thereby costing me mucho points. I lost my first game in Yahoo! Public 123000, falling to 2-1. The loss of Frank Gore and another disappointing performance by the Steelers defense cost me dearly there. The 0-2 Mean Machine knocked me from the ranks of the unbeaten in the Field Of Honor private league. Again, here, I was hurt by the benching of DeSean Jackson. Also contributing to the loss were poor performances by Ted Ginn Jr., Matt Ryan, Isaac Bruce, Darren McFadden, kicker Rian Lindell and the Arizona defense. I ran my record to 2-1 on the strength of Peyton Manning, Ahmad Bradshaw and the New York Giant defense in private league Spies Like Us. I guess, looking back, I’m not doing that bad in the Yahoo leagues.

At NFL.com, in the Central Florida Headbangers League, I was thumped from the ranks of the unbeaten by Eastern Division rival carterandi. Contributing factors were a poor output by Drew Brees who had carried me through the first two weeks, and lousy performances by Darren McFadden, Chansi Stuckey, Visanthe Shiancoe and the Pittsburgh Steelers defense. Without Polamalu, the Steeler’s D sucks. If he doesn’t return on October 11th as prophesized, I’ll have to dump them.

My first venture into the ESPN Fantasy World has been thoroughly and undeniably unimpressive. I’m on the brink of falling 0-2-1 in the Tampa Bay Football League. Actually, before MNF, I’m ahead of the Riverview Weirdos by 7 points. But, I have no one playing tonight and my opponent has Felix Jones ready to go. Jones has looked impressive in the Cowboys games I’ve watched, besides, with Marion Barber’s status questionable, he may even get more carries. I’ve all but conceded this one.

The lackluster Crossville Jets knocked me to 0-3 in the ESPN Italian League. Here I was done in by poor performances by Larry Johnson, Santonio Holmes, Chris “Beanie” Wells, T.O. and Dustin Keller. The loss would have been averted if I hadn’t benched Moss, Greg Olsen or Steve Breaston but that’s how things go. The lesson about paying too much attention to minor injuries is one I’ve learned over and over again, apparently, to no avail. I’m about ready for the cement shoes.

It’s Criminal: The Season Premier of Criminal Minds

The team solves a case with their usual zeal, resolve, clear thinking and super-deductive reasoning. Ho hum. More importantly, however, is the fact that Hotch’s wife and son have to go into hiding because they are in danger of being killed by the brutal and diabolical attacker and arch-nemisis who carefully, so as not to kill him, stabbed Agent Hotchner nine times and then threw him out of the car at the hospital. I’m hoping against hope that this is not a subplot that’s going to continue all season. Kill the bastard, bring the family home, let’s get on with the next episode. I’m still adjusting to the fact that Garcia’s gay. I mean, what is the poor kid whispering under her breath every time Derek refers to her as “Baby girl?” I wonder. Anyway, I don’t mind a tryst or two that colors the cast, but recurring villains turn me off. Of course, it’s too late now. The scripts have been written. I just might have to change my Wednesday night viewing habits.

From Your Friends At Humana-Medicare

I usually manage to tune out or fast forward past TV commercials, but a promo for Humana-Medicare popped up during the Emmy Award broadcast the other night and, since I hadn’t noticed it before, I watched it with interest. I don’t recall the particular content, but suffice it to say they were trying to get people to sign up for their program. A blurb on their website makes this promise: “At age 65, you may qualify for Medicare. Enroll in a Humana Medicare plan with additional benefits and more coverage than Original Medicare.”

Thing is, a friend of mine is in their program. Recently, he had a heart attack. The ambulance took him to the closest hospital in New Port Richey, Morgan Plant North Bay Hospital. I visited him several times there and, quite frankly, he wasn’t looking to good. That’s why I was surprised when he told me one day that a doctor, not his cardiologist, who had just been in his room had told him he was being sent to a rehab facility.

Well, though he participated in rehab at Orchard Ridge Rehab, also in NPR, his condition continued to decline. He felt miserable. Finally, I said to him, “Bobby, these people don’t give a shit about you. You’ve got to see your own doctor over at the VA. They don’t even know what’s been going on with you.” So, since he had a regular appointment at the VA coming up, I made arrangements to take him there.

Well, on the fateful day, the VA ran some blood work on my buddy and found, among other things, that his potassium was at a dangerously high level. This condition was no doubt exacerbated by the potassium supplements the folks at Orchard Ridge had been feeding him. The people at the VA encouraged him not to return to the rehab site and made arrangements for him to be admitted to the Cardiac Unit at Bayonet Point Hospital.

He was there a few days when the very same doctor who had released him from Morgan Plant to Orchard Ridge Rehab appeared in his room. Having become familiar with the doctors who were tending to him, he asked the doctor what he was doing there. That’s when the doctor informed him “I work for Humana.”

That explains a lot about my friend’s deteriorating condition and the basics of Humana-Medicare. This doctor had only one interest – keeping down charges to Humana. He wasn’t interested at all in my friend’s welfare.

I hope that the next time you see the ad for Humana Medicare, this story comes to mind. We know that insurance companies are sleazy outfits, but some are sleazier than others.