Thank God for the Chicago Cubs

Blasphemy, right?  Don't drink and post?  Fear not, gentle readers, as always, my madness is well coated with method.

For umpteen years, outside of one glorious season, the Chicago White Sox have been mired in mediocrity and irrelevancy. In some cases, like the strike that took away what could have been a world championship in 1994, owner Jerry Reinsdorf seemed to be complicit in not pushing for his team to compete for championships, spending more of his focus on Michael Jordan and NBA glory.

But for all those years, Reinsdorf and his predecessors enjoyed insulation from the consequences of their idiocy -- the equally malfeasant performance of the ownership on the other side of town.  Between the Wrigley family and the Chicago Tribune, the Cubs were content in their "lovable losers" mantle, and felt free to bleed their fandom dry financially while not doing a whole hell of a lot on or off the field.  Single-season blips here and there aside, they put no pressure on the Sox to up their game.

Before the dark times.  Before the Ricketts.

Tom Ricketts had the vision to raise their franchise to the next level, and the courage to do what needed to be done -- completely implode the current model and build a competent one from the ground up.  They went after the best operations manager in the game, were content with caretaker managers while they used draft picks and competent player evaluation personnel to build a deep, quality roster, and when the plan was ready to be implemented, went after the best manager available to get it done.

Granted, the sheep-like compliance of a fan base willing to endure almost a century of losing helped hedge the bets on the success of the endeavor.  After all, the Cubs were selling out Wrigley for last-place teams for decades, so even if the plan took longer than estimated to implement, the money would still be there.

But the Cubs' plan has come to fruition.  They enter the playoffs as the odds-on favorite to win their first World Series championship in 108 years.  And with the youth and favorable contracts in place, their fans will go into the next couple seasons with reasonable expectations of meaningful baseball being played by their team in September at the very least, if not beyond.

And at 35th and Shields?  Not so much.  This year's bunch squandered a fantastic April with a craptastic May, and were spared finishing last in their division only by the Minnesota Twins being even worse.  Reinsdorf's incompetence continues to reign supreme.  His experiment with Robin Ventura reportedly is reaching a blessed ending for both sides, but rather than push for excellence, he seems content to promote bench coach Rick Renteria -- whose presence this season was supposed to ameliorate Ventura's shortcomings, and yet fell short -- to the top spot.  Abject failures Rick Hahn and Kenny Williams benefit from Reinsdorf's excessive loyalty to hack away at the franchise for another day.  As Paul Sullivan said in the Trib today, Sox fans deserve better than this mess.

Before the Cubs renaissance, that's likely as far as it would have gone.  But not now. Now the gloves are off.  The veneer has been stripped bare.  There's no safety net of lovable losers to deflect the harsh spotlight shining on the south side, and hopefully the beat writers and fans will put on the much-deserved pressure.

The Ricketts have shown how it can be done.  It takes money and it takes effort, and probably a little bit of luck.  In the short term, there will be pain, and the fans may make ownership share in that pain before it's all over.

But that's why you own a team.  That's why you put your money out there -- to win.  If you're not in it to win, you shouldn't be in it at all.

If it takes a Cubs World Series win to push my Sox out of mediocrity and into some kind of effort to win, it'll have been worth it.  Not by a lot, but worth it still.

I don't know if Alan would do it or not, but I've no doubt he'd see the practicality of it.

Not Vote for Your Lizard

Douglas Adams has always been one of my favorite authors.  Beyond his books, he penned the scripts for some of my favorite Doctor Who episodes.  And it's a quote of his from "So Long, and Thanks For All the Fish" that sticks in my mind as we careen towards the 2016 Presidential election:

“It comes from a very ancient democracy, you see..."
"You mean, it comes from a world of lizards?"
"No," said Ford, who by this time was a little more rational and coherent than he had been, having finally had the coffee forced down him, "nothing so simple. Nothing anything like so straightforward. On its world, the people are people. The leaders are lizards. The people hate the lizards and the lizards rule the people."
"Odd," said Arthur, "I thought you said it was a democracy."
"I did," said Ford. "It is."
"So," said Arthur, hoping he wasn't sounding ridiculously obtuse, "why don't people get rid of the lizards?"
"It honestly doesn't occur to them," said Ford. "They've all got the vote, so they all pretty much assume that the government they've voted in more or less approximates to the government they want."
"You mean they actually vote for the lizards?"
"Oh yes," said Ford with a shrug, "of course."
"But," said Arthur, going for the big one again, "why?"
"Because if they didn't vote for a lizard," said Ford, "the wrong lizard might get in. Got any gin?"
"What?"
"I said," said Ford, with an increasing air of urgency creeping into his voice, "have you got any gin?"
"I'll look. Tell me about the lizards."
Ford shrugged again. "Some people say that the lizards are the best thing that ever happened to them," he said. "They're completely wrong of course, completely and utterly wrong, but someone's got to say it."
"But that's terrible," said Arthur.
"Listen, bud," said Ford, "if I had one Altairian dollar for every time I heard one bit of the Universe look at another bit of the Universe and say 'That's terrible' I wouldn't be sitting here like a lemon looking for a gin.” 

I think of this quote every time I read an article like this one in ND's Observer.  I don't mean to call out my fellow soon-to-be alumni, but the attitude that "any vote for a third-party candidate is a vote for [insert name of candidate you don't like]" drives me up a tree, and this is just the latest one to push me there.

My vote for Gary Johnson will be just that -- a vote for Gary Johnson.  While I don't agree with everything he espouses, I'm aligned with him enough that I'm willing to work with him on the other stuff.  And last time I checked (and the last 15 years notwithstanding), the President is not empowered with the ability to unilaterally implement the things he wants.  So those of you who think vaccination programs are suddenly going to go away should relax -- they're not.  But the political "it's just as important for them to lose as it is for us to wint" bullshit just might.

And most importantly, Gary Johnson is an adult I believe I can trust.  He's served as a governor, so he has executive experience.  He seems to have willingness and ability to get things done while working with those who don't necessarily agree with him -- an attribute sorely missing from politics today.  He spends most of his time talking about the things he wants to do, not how awful his opponents are.

This year, the two major parties have served us up a shit sandwich, and I'm not about to validate that action with my vote.  Yes, Donald Trump is a reprehensible human being and I probably would rather have slivers hammered under my fingernails than spend a minute near him.  By that measure, Hilary Clinton is objectively better than Donald Trump.

But I'm not picking a spouse or a friend, I'm electing a President.  So whose personality is better really doesn't matter.  What matters is what kind of politician each candidate is, and on that scale, both are unacceptable.

Trump is an ignoramus whose lack of understanding of the issues makes him an unsuitable choice.  He caters to the base instincts of the lowest common denominator, is unwilling or unable to rise above his bombastic nature, and is doing absolutely nothing to create any kind of civil debate in this country.  Not to mention my belief he really doesn't want the job in the first place.

Clinton's complete lack of trustworthiness makes her unacceptable to me as well  She is an unrepentant inveterate liar who used a questionable charity to enrich herself.  The candidate who cloaks herself in feminism today has spent most of her life enabling a serial rapist and castigating the women who tried to push back on him with the same shaming rhetoric she now decries.

Someone is going to win this election -- hopefully the Johnson/Weld ticket I support -- and inevitably those who think like me will be the target of the lizard(s) that fell short in the polls, saying the loss is somehow our fault.  Spare me your righteous indignation, because it's better targeted at the political parties who only exist to keep themselves in power while turning all of us against each other.

I'm not here to change your mind -- vote for whatever candidate you choose and you feel represents you and what you're about.  But don't try to project your electoral anxieties and uncontrollable political animus onto me.  Your lizard's fate is all on you.

Time to Dust Things Off

One thing Alan Shore would never do is forget an outlet to let his feelings on topics be known.  So as the writing bug takes hold again, I'm dusting this place off and will start filling it up with my blatherings.  Consider yourself warned.

Complications

I've never been the kind of person who writes about personal subjects on the Internet well, especially subjects I would consider Shared Human Experiences.  Lots of people have kids, lots of people gain and lose jobs, lots of people gain and lose loved ones, and I feel excessively narcissistic when I try to express thoughts on those things -- like I'm some kind of authority to whom people should listen when it comes to things we'll all do eventually.

But it occurs to me such writing requires a level of bravery I don't possess.  My cousin has a blog on which she describes her personal triumphs and challenges in an absolutely brilliant manner, and more than once while reading it I've regretted not having that sense of purpose in my writings.

Maybe it's time I got it.  After all, Alan Shore never was shy about sharing his thoughts on matters when he thought it important.  While there's a fine line between educational and overbearing, you'll never find out where it is unless you walk up to (but hopefully not over) it.

It was just about a year ago mom decided to forego further treatment for the metastasized lung cancer in her brain and spinal cord and went into hospice.  The four months that followed were a roller coaster of moments both good (her appearance at my cousin's wedding, probably the last time she left the house in her life) and awful (the final days as she faded away both physically and mentally).  While she's never far from my thoughts, she's even more present now with Mother's Day coming up, and I've been thinking about the ways my life is different now that she's gone.

I was reminded of one of those ways the other day on the train downtown, as I was thumbing through the Trib and happened across the obituary page.  At the very top was a story of an older gentleman who, according to the headline, had succumbed to "complications from prostate cancer".

"Complications".  The usage here is almost meta.  A single word describing so so so many things ... things I have much more of an appreciation for today than I did a year ago.

It's also what George Carlin would deride as a euphemism.  To describe what mom went through as "complications" is an injustice.  For me, the experience was equal parts gratifying and horrifying, swinging more from the former to the latter as time went on.  In the final days, it took everything I had just to walk through the door of 9139, and I envied the strength of my brother (who was living there at ground zero) and my sister (who was in charge of the medical decisions) as they endured something I probably could not have.  As hard as I thought I had it, they had it much much worse.

Reading about "complications of cancer" brings those days back to me in sharp relief, and sometimes I bristle at what I see as the insufficiency of that single word.  But while it's insufficient for me, it's probably sufficient for public consumption, so I resolve to say a little extra prayer for the loved ones and their likely "complicated" lives in the time leading up to the person's passing.  Because sometimes when they say "it's complicated", it really is.

Confessional

I spent yesterday saying goodbye to a great man. I've spent the time since wondering how I can be more like him.

Thomas "Tod" McGrath was my grandmother's brother. As the youngest of six, Tod was the prototypical "fun loving" member of the family. He didn't stand on ceremony or take himself or other people too seriously. His father died when Tod was young, so he learned the value of hard work quickly and developed a self-sufficiency which served him well his whole life. When his brothers also died at relatively young ages, he was an emotional support to their children as well as his own. When his sisters tried to "mother" him, he'd laugh and (very politely and respectfully) wave them off. He had a fullness of spirit that was joyfully infectious, and was someone you just wanted to be around.

The best part of Tod, though, was his leadership. It wasn't the Patton-type of leadership that you'd feel beaten over the head with. It was a quiet, matter-of-fact leadership that seemed much more attainable, even though it was so ingrained in everything he did he made it look effortless. Whether being a dad to his five kids, having employees while running his own truck stop, being an employee working for his nephews' business, or volunteering at his church and in other communities, he was the example you wanted to follow. If he was set a task, you never for a second thought it wouldn't be done and done well. So if he set you a task, you wanted to meet that same standard ... not because of fear of what would happen if you didn't, but because you didn't want to disappoint him. He inspired a loyalty in you that remained strong even if circumstance moved him out of your immediate orbit.

Tod had a great sense of humor perfectly balanced against a zero tolerance for bullshit. His "confessional" in his office at Kean Brothers was a place for people to get much-needed friendly advice and well-deserved calling outs, sometimes within the same minute. But whichever you received, you always knew it was being delivered with your best interest at heart. There was no CYA in Tod's life, personal or professional. He was more interested in others than he was in himself, and it showed every minute you spent with him.

In my 43 years, Tod was a great-uncle, boss, co-worker, and back again, and in that time he taught me a number of lessons about responsibility to self and others, priorities, and faith. Lately, I've been bad at putting those lessons into practice. I've gotten lazy about some things. I've let events influence me rather than the other way around. I've gotten better at using excuses than using what God's given me.

In earlier days, I'd be in the "confessional" getting straightened out. But it's not earlier days, and it's up to me to put what he taught me into practice, just as it is for everyone else whose lives he touched. When you lose someone like Tod, your life is poorer only if you allow the influence he had on you to wane. The "confessional" in his office is closed. The ones in our minds and hearts remain open, and you're a fool if you don't use it.

The last time Tod was at our house, he told me what a wonderful family I had and what a lucky person I was. While I thanked him for saying so, inside, I didn't feel very lucky. But as I see now, I was, and I am, and I need to be a lot better at recognizing it. The only way I'm unlucky is I can't thank him in person today for not only imparting the lessons in the first place but reminding me about the need to put them into practice.

So I'll say it here. Thanks for everything, Uncle T. I'll miss you.

Go Back in Time

A while back on the NDN Back Room, there was a discussion regarding time travel. To wit: If you could travel back in time to influence a decision point in history, what would it be? The usual suspects like killing so-and-so or preventing whats-his-name from being killed were explicitly excluded, and you could assume that you had the wherewithal to actually make a difference.

I gave the matter much prayerful meditation. At first, I wanted to go back and convince Henry VIII not to split with the Catholic Church over Ann Boelyn, but that seemed a little too esoteric for me (not to mention not a guarantee that a Protestant church wouldn't have formed in England anyway). Talking President Nixon out of doing Watergate seemed to be a waste of time -- if he didn't get caught for that, he would've been caught for something.

Then it came to me, and I knew exactly where I'd set my Wayback Machine: New York City, January, 1975. I'd sit down with John Lennon and convince him he should stay with May Pang rather than meet with Yoko Ono, a meeting resulting in the end of Lennon's "Lost Weekend" and his relationship with Pang.

May Pang was good for John Lennon. While with her, he rekindled a number of relationships, not the least of which were those with his former Beatles bandmates. Near the end of 1974, there was talk of some musical collaboration and healing of hurts. If that had continued, I can only imagine the kind of music produced. Or maybe I can't, because it would boggle the mind.

But in January of 1975, Lennon ended up back with Ono, and everything went back to square one. Lennon created more music, but remained estranged from his fellow Beatles. And six years later, he was still in NYC when Mark David Chapman walked up to him in front of the Dakota. If he'd still been with Pang, they'd likely have been in California instead.

Perhaps not earth-shattering, but that's where I'd choose to go.

Not Have Affairs

Every now and then, I'm reminded how little I understand the concept of marital infidelity.  Such an occasion afforded itself this afternoon, when I read this article on baby boomers getting divorced.

As I said, I really don't understand why people have affairs.  But what boggles my mind further is why people of advanced ages do it.  Note one of the opening paragraphs in the linked article:

A few weeks ago we learned friends of ours who had been married for 32 years were heading to divorce court; he was having an affair with his secretary and his wife had no idea.

I just don't get it. Some guy in his mid to late 50s had an affair with his secretary? Why would you do that at this point in your life? More importantly, what led the secretary to look at this 50-something married doofus and think, "Yeah, gotta get me some of that".  She obviously envisioned some kind of end-game, but damned if I can figure out what it might be.

When you get married, it's supposed to be forever.  I know sometimes events transpire that can affect things, but all else equal, you're supposed to be in it for the long haul.  People complain about celebrity "marriages" and goofy relationships, but as with politics, what we see simply represents the extreme edge of what the general population has brewing in it.

I could never have an affair.  Even if my rule of thumb above didn't trump all, at the bare minimum I lack the necessary legerdemain to pull it off.  At the end of most days, I'm lucky if I can remember what I actually did.  The thought of maintaining both an actual and virtual life, each with its own itinerary and cast of characters to keep straight and separate, gives me a facial tic.

Besides, as I noted above, what's the end-game of an affair?  If it's meaningless sex, there's no point.  You're banging around with no purpose, and neither your state-sanctioned relationship nor its illicit counterpart will grow in any meaningful way.  It's like masturbation with a partner.

If it's meaningful sex, that creates a skiff full of problems all its own.  Do you think your fellow conspirator is going to leave the marriage for you?  Forget the myriad complications of doing that in the first place, why do you want to hitch your wagon to a person who is that much of a shit?  Why go through all that only to end up on the other side of the coin in a couple years?

There are a fair share of people who shouldn't get married in the first place.  If you like sowing your wild oats, better to rent yourself out to the field owners than waste everyone's time and money buying the property.  Marriage these days is viewed as a commodity, something to be "had" rather than something to be embraced.  Witness all the ridiculous weddings out there, the trappings of which get more mind-boggling by the year.  If you're thinking more about the checkbook than anything else, you're doing it wrong, and that's how you end up getting Kardashianed.

That's why I don't have a big problem with people who choose to cohabit.  Marriage is something you need to be serious about, and if for whatever reason it doesn't work for you, no worries.  Shoehorning yourself into one to satisfy someone else's weird notion of propriety does no one any favors.

So if you are married, and you either are stepping out or are thinking about it, pull your head out of your ass.  You stood up and took vows.  Strap up and take them seriously.  If you're being stepped out on, you have my sympathies, along with the promise if I'm on your jury, I'll never vote to convict.