Tougher than Tiger

In early April of this year Sports Illustrated posted an article called The Toughest 25 Athletes. Like so many lists, this one was bound to be controversial. To begin with, exactly how could one define tough in the context of so many different sports? At SI, in order to defend their lame choices, they gave a very wide ranging set of criteria which makes it rather difficult to argue with their decisions. Except, and this is something I find particularly astonishing, their number one choice, Tiger Woods. What? Tiger? Tough? And not just any plain old street guy tough, but the toughest athlete in the world??? At first I said to myself, "Dude, check the date. It's April 1. Must be an April Fool's joke. Yeah, that's it. Good one. Almost got me there SI guys."

But no, it's not a joke, at least not intentionally as far as I can tell. They chose Tiger, really. Now I will not question for a second that Woods is an incredibly gifted athlete. And I'll even admit that he has, at times, shown some great nerve under serious stress on the links. But the toughest athlete in the world??? Nope. Sorry but I ain't buyin' it.

My argument is ridiculously easy. By way of comparison, look at their # 2, sled dog musher Lance Mackey. This guy just happens to be the other amazing athlete named Lance who beat cancer and then one-upped himself by totally beating the pants off his competition, too. But unlike Tiger, instead of waking from a comfortable night in a hotel room to press his slacks and shirt each day before stepping out under the sunswept greens and fairways to ply his leisurely trade prior to cocktails in the clubhouse, Mackey merely braves winter's worst weather while suffering severe sleep deprivation to drive the team of extraordinary huskies he's been training all year through some seriously nasty wilderness. Over 1000 miles. In 10 days. Twice. In one winter. To win. Two years in a row.

For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, let me explain. Up there in Alaska they get a little bored in the winter. So to pass the time, some of them (masochists more likely than not) conjured up a couple of sled dog races to pass the time. The Iditarod, which runs from Anchorage to Nome, is the more famous of the two, but equally (and some say more) challenging, is the Yukon Quest which traverses the extremely rugged terrain between Fairbanks and Dawson in the Yukon. Both are somewhere around 1000 miles long. Both test the limit of human patience, endurance and intestinal fortitude (as well as the ability to train and then care for 16 remarkable canine athletes under extreme conditions). Now to merely finish one of these races is an accomplishment for most people. But winning? Well that requires a significantly expanded set of skills, not the least of which includes extraordinary physical and mental toughness. And not only did Lance win the Yukon Quest last year (2007) but he followed it up mere weeks later by winning the Iditarod, too. Then, not content to rest on the laurels of this first ever accomplishment, he did the same thing this year. Think about it for a second, maybe even a moment. The guy won back to back 1000+ mile sled dog races, two years in a row. I would go on and on about just how amazing this is but the more I think about it the more I realize there just aren't words to capture that kind of human achievement. But I will add that last year Mackey was a runner-up for the ESPN "ESPY" award for Best Outdoors Athlete and if he doesn't win this year it will be, without question, a travesty.

Okay, so enough about Lance and Tiger, what about the other picks? Who cares? If you screw up the top slot that badly, how much value can we put in the rest? None. And I can say this confidently because it's the easiest way for me to get out of ripping the entire article to shreds, which, quite frankly I don't have time to do. But I would like to make a couple of other observations.

First of all, in regards to the current top 50 I'm a bit surprised (stunned actually) they left off mountain climber extraordinaire Ed Viesturs. Why, you might ask, should Viesturs be on the list? Oh, I don't know, maybe because he's climbed all the tallest peaks on the planet. Without bottled oxygen. In flip-flops. Okay, I made that last one up. But seriously, doesn't that kind of climbing take a little more toughness than dropping a 6 foot putt to add a few more million to your already healthy bank account?

Finally, I simply can't help but drop the bomb on the accompanying gallery of 50 Old School Tough Guys. I won't, though I certainly could, quibble over any of their selections in this category. But for them to leave out Eddie Shore, quite possibly one of the most talented and demented athletes to ever don a uniform, is simply unfathomable. It's the demented part that puts Shore in the elite of tough. Examples abound but because I like irony, I'll just point you to this article from SI's very own archives. Read it, then come back here and tell me that isn't one of the toughest SOBs that ever, er, graced, the sporting world. 'nuff said.

What Happens When a Web Search Goes Awry...

" Did you ever notice when you blow in a dog's face he gets mad at you? But when you take him in a car he sticks his head out the window." ~Steve Bluestone

Last summer I decided to buy a motorcycle. After considerable research on the web, visiting countless pages and review sites (and thinking waaaaaay to much), I finally settled on the 2001 Triumph Sprint ST you see at the right. The letters stand for Sport Tour which means it is designed for both performance and comfort. Like almost all things that try to be good at everything instead of excelling at something specific, this bike is not great at anything. But despite that, it is still a wonderful if somewhat expensive toy and, unquestionably, more fun than almost anything I've ever owned, except my dog, Sukey (let's not debate the "who really owns who here?" question, please). Nearly 12 years old now (him, not me), when I move about he is nearly always at my side and a veritable permanent fixture in my car, which, from his perspective, is a rather plush if perplexingly mobile doghouse. And one, I should add, that he simply loves to stick his head out of when we are driving. Which brings me to my current dilemma. How can I truly have fun on the road with the bike when I have to leave my furry friend behind?

The answer, of course, is a sidecar. One of those odd looking contraptions which attaches to the bike allowing a comfortable and somewhat safer ride for the passenger. Knowing I certainly wouldn't be the first person to put their canine companion in one of these contraptions, I decided to browse the web a bit for some advice and instruction. After all, there is certainly some risk involved and I had to contemplate the catastrophe that might ensue should Sukey feel the same way about my driving as everyone else who dares to ride with me (or at least who used to ride with me. Lately I can't help but notice how often my friends decline my offers to drive). In any case I assumed at the very least this search would serve to bolster my confidence and further my motivation. What could possibly be more inspiring than to see a plethora of photos - goggle wearing pups with fur streaming in the wind, riding along splendidly scenic vistas with their masters, ears alert and the inimitable doggy smile upon their faces as they soaked up the rays of the sun on a fine summer's day? I even closed my eyes to picture how awesome Sukey and I would appear to other motorists and passers by as we zipped around our little village. We would be just the coolest thing in town, I was sure of it. However, when I stumbled upon the picture below, I gave up the idea. I mean, really, there's cool, there's ridiculously cool, and then there's, well, whatever you'd call this:


PS: Can you just imagine how many accidents there must have been when this guy was out there on the road???

Dressed for Destiny

As I was browsing through Hulu in search of something to distract me from thinking, I noticed a series I had heard of previously but was reluctant to watch just because the name kind of gives me the willies. "What show is that?" you may inquire. My answer: look at the picture!.


Now I'll admit this isn't the funniest thing I've ever seen. But somehow or another it kind of caught my attention. To begin with, how could one not like a show about super heroes that includes a South-of-the-Border well-doer named "Batmanuel"? If only there was a Polish counterpart called "Hulski" or a web-swinging Italian hero known as "Spidermanelli" it might be perfect.

In the spirit of full disclosure I feel obligated to mention I don't actually own a television but use my computer and a digital projector to watch DVDs and web-based video on a gloriously large 7 ft image projected on my wall. So instead of spending my time flipping a remote control through a million bad channels on cable or satellite, I engage in the online equivalent, namely searching streaming video sites for things that might tickle my fancy. I've discovered that either way the result can turn out the same, I watch more "television" than I probably should. On the plus side, I can watch Netflix series and movies sans ads, and despite the smattering of promotional material on Hulu, generally speaking I am exposed to considerably less mind-numbing Madison Avenue dribble than I would be with a regular TV.

Anyway, back to the Tick. At the moment I have watched only the pilot. I suspect I'll watch more if it grabs my admittedly hard to capture and even more difficult to sustain interest, but at this point I really don't have a heck of a lot to offer in the way of examples for my recommendation. The line which led me to make this post and provided the source of the title should be sufficient for you to determine if this show might be worth your taking a peek. As one of the characters falters in his belief that he is a legitimate defender of the common man, the Tick offers these words of wisdom, "Destiny dressed you, now fear is trying to take off your pants." Tell me that's not funny and I'll tell you to watch something else. But if you found a chuckle when you read that line, give the Tick a try.

The other thing certain besides death...

I have a confession to make. In all likelihood I actually have many confessions to make, but for the sake of brevity, I'll just stick to this one for now. I don't mind paying taxes.

Now what, you may ask (go ahead, do it, I dare you) would prompt me to say such a patently un-American thing? My friend Tom. Inspired by this little venue of my rants, he has created his own blog and in his first post he lashed out at the onerous task of completing the numerous federal and state returns to which he is subject. This led me to consider my own feelings on the topic which I've decided to share with you here.

So your next question, the one that lies at the real heart of the matter, is why? Well I suppose deep down there must be some element of socialism embedded in my spirit. The whole concept of paying my share along with my fellow citizens simply strikes me as a good way for society to pull together to end the ills of the world. I have no reservations about giving the government my money because I am, if only in some small way through my democratic representation in Congress, the government, too. You know, government for the people, by the people, etc.

Now I suppose I should clarify a bit. I don't believe I'm alone in my willingness to pay. I'm sure plenty of people feel as I do about the basic idea. But the catch to taxes is the complexity that has become intrinsically woven into the process, at least in this country. To begin with, which form, or to be more accurate, which forms do I need to fill out? There's a dizzying array of them which has led to a rather large industry to aid us in forking over our fair share. And then there's the whole guessing game piece which comes along each year. How much should I have deducted from my regular paycheck? If I pay to little then I'll be saddled with a hefty check due the IRS. If I pay to much I'm giving the government an interest free loan which might serve me better invested in some vehicle which offers a better return. (I said I was willing to pay taxes, not that I was in a rush to do so...)

And there's more to the complexity issue than just the paperwork. The tax code itself is so ridiculously complicated and non-sensical that it makes me wonder how it ever could have gotten this twisted. There are so many loopholes and tricks that it is difficult to choose one to use as an example, but I have a favorite which exemplifies how different my perspective may be from the vast majority. Someone, please, explain to me how this makes sense: If you have a child, the government gives you an additional deduction (how's that for a clever turn of phrase?) Chide me if you must parents all over the country, but why on earth should you pay less in taxes for introducing a near certain revenue drain to our public coffers? Given the probability that your little darling will attend a tax funded public school, why oh, tell me why, should you pay less? It brings to mind a comment from that wise old sage, Grouch Marx, who once said, "A child of five would understand this. Send someone to fetch a child of five. "

Now please don't get the idea that I don't like children. Generally speaking I do, (although I have met a few that have led me to reconsider that sentiment from time to time.) Of course I should, I suppose, mention that I believe that some licensing should be involved in the whole thing. I mean, after all, we need a license to do just about anything in this country so why not one for having children? Heresy, you say? I think not. Consider this. You need a license to drive, a license to conduct business, a license to cut hair for cripe's sake, why on earth do you not need a license to do the one thing that is more complicated, more difficult and more likely to effect everyone else around you?

But to return to the topic (lest I find swarms of angry parents storming my front door), my point is that our tax code is simply filled with far to many exemptions, exceptions, and, to put it plainly, ways to avoid paying our fair share if we are willing to delve deeply enough into the rules to find them. Being human as we are, it is simply in our nature to take advantage of any opportunity we are given. So we all play the game and in the long run, we all lose.

As I suggested earlier, I think most people don't actually hate paying taxes. What I think people actually hate is how the money is spent when they do. But that, my friends, is a topic I think I'll leave to someone else to address.

Help! No Hops!!!

It has only recently come to my attention that there is a worldwide shortage of that flowering plant so precious to me and my fellow beer lovers all over the world, the honorable hop. To say I am distressed may be an overstatement, but I suspect as prices on my favorite brews, typically India Pale Ales (IPAs) begin to rise, my wallet will feel the pain even if my tastebuds do not. Of course I don't wish to pay any more for my beer than necessary, but what concerns me much more is I have read far too many comments from brewmasters suggesting their reaction to this crisis may include modifying recipes. My advice to them, don't go there.

I realize recipes are always open for a little tinkering, but from my perspective the notion of brewers altering formulas as a response to the shortage and concurrent price increase of the time tested bittering agent and flattering flavor enhancer is unnecessary. There are two reasons why I believe this is true.

First, beer drinkers are, generally speaking, loyal. Some, maybe even most, fanatically so. Whether the consumer is an average person drinking an average beer or a craft beer connoisseur, they will usually buy the same beer regularly. The former may never stray while the latter likely brings home a wide variety of brews to sample, yet almost always keeps a cache of a particular favorite in the 'fridge. Let's take me as an example (and why not? I know myself better than I know anyone else!) Even my closest friends could not usually guess which malt beverages might be sitting on my shelves at any single point in time, with one exception. Anyone desperately desiring to watch the head of a Guinness Draft rise toward the rim of a sparkling clean pint glass in all it's frothy glory can find one in my refrigerator nearly any day of the week. But lest I digress in the revelry of that perfect picture, let me ask, why are people so loyal to beers? The answer is simple, consistency. Whether you like Budweiser or not, you know for sure it will always taste the same (assuming it hasn't been stored in the trunk of the car for a week, in which case there may be some, albeit slight and maybe even better, difference.) So to keep at least some order in our otherwise seemingly random lives, beer enthusiasts all across the world cling to the sanctity of finding the same cloying bitterness, the same malty sweetness, even the same bubbly carbonation in our particular favorites. If brewers begin to tamper with those tried and true formulas as a means of adapting to the current shortage then they put at risk our confidence as consumers that their products will meet our expectations. In short, they're gonna mess with our heads. Doesn't strike me as smart business. Which leads to reason number 2.

As can be clearly seen by a quick stroll through most grocery (and even convenience) stores these days, there is an almost dizzying array of malt beverages on the market these days. Mixed among the standard American lagers ( a term I use loosely in this context) by Bud, Miller, Coors, etc, you will likely find a bunch of craft or micro-brews from local brewers and even some from all the way across the country. And unlike the virtually indistinguishable varieties sold by the majors (quick, answer this if you can, what's the point of Bud Light?), the craft breweries combine to produce an assortment of styles which may range from a nice thick stout or porter to some sort of crisp, clean, real lager, and you might even be tempted by a barleywine or the Belgian style framboise that sits beside it. Now the unfortunate consequence of all these choices is that it takes me an extra 15 minutes when grocery shopping as I stand before the beer cooler endlessly debating exactly which flavor(s) will tickle my tastebuds this week. But despite this conundrum I am convinced that brewers and drinkers alike will be better served by the temporary introduction of new products which reflect the availability of hop varieties rather than modifications of our trusted faves.

For example, even if the shortage lasts 2 or 3 years while growers ramp up production, I would rather drink a Dogfish Head "75" which I know won't be the same as their magnificent "90" or see them simply stick to the splendid "60" until supplies return to something reasonable. Or, if necessary, yes, I'll pay $12 for a 4-pack of the "90" because, simply put, I'm a hophead and thus prone to catatonic states if I go too long without the inimitable joy of say, a Cascades or Saaz bouquet wafting up into my nostrils from my freshly filled glass.

Let's hope the brewers hear my message and heed it's call, because if you believe what the experts say, homebrewers may be the ones who feel the pain of this shortage the most. And if that's true, then the last refuge for the concerned consumer may also be in jeopardy. Of course there is one other option. Grow your own. Despite the issues with crops worldwide, the hop is generally a sturdy and indefatigable little bugger, a plant you can grow on the side of your house in a wide variety of climates, or even consider as a cash crop if you're already a farmer. I sure wish I had seen this coming because I would certainly have been happy to contribute my share to ensuring this most vital vegetation was readily available at reasonable cost.