Beer for my Horses. . . .

On By scottpetersenIn Beer for my HorsesLeave a comment

When I was a State’s Attorney at 26th & California, I prosecuted bad people.  It was 40 years ago but I still go back every couple years to testify in parole hearings (objecting to release) for the really bad ones (3/20/14).  It’s very emotional.  Think of your worst nightmare and know that there are people out there who are worse.   One chap I put on death row had one-by-one murdered perhaps 15 people (or was it 18) as a hired killer.  He would slit your throat as easily as he would hold the door open for an old lady.   Our culture of violence is a breeding ground for such abomination (1/2/13).  We glorify the new “Game of War,” we see horrific violence in video games for children, movies have disturbing and hateful brutality and immorality and we cheer the blood and guts in ultimate fighting (who can watch this stuff?).  Yet remember people — we are now told that it is the Bible that is the shocking danger to society!  But I digress. . . . . 

The world spirals into chaos.  The Nightly News makes you want to climb into bed and pull the covers over your head.  It’s all a good reason to watch for anomalies (6/18/12), to keep a weather eye on your six and to warn all family members of “stranger danger.”   

In 2003, Toby Keith and Willie Nelson released a great music video that most can relate to.  “Beer for my Horses” won the Country Music Awards “Best Music Video” award later in the year.  It’s a first since in this video – no one sings!   It’s the kind of music that will make you narrow your eyes and smile.  It suggests a means for dealing with really bad people.  You’ll want to raise up a glass – and share a a bottle of Dos Equis with a large four-legged pal.  Watch –  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o1JOFhfoAD4     Now if we can only extend that rope in Texas to the boys and girls from ISIS, Boko Haram, Al-Shabaab, Hezbollah, Hamas, Al-Qaeda, the Taliban, Islamic Jihad and the rest of them.  Beer for my horses . . . .

Try? Win. Don’t try? Lose.

On By scottpetersenIn North Shore Country Club, Ya gotta tryLeave a comment

My father was born in 1913. In the late 1920’s, he was a caddy at North Shore Country Club in Glenview. He would take the “train” (streetcar) from Portage Park up to Waukegan Road and Glenview Road. From there, he and his chums would hoof east to the Club.  He would do one – or two – “loops” and then go home on the streetcar which ran down the middle of Waukegan Road.  His best tip as a caddy was a five dollar bill from one wealthy (and apparently grateful) member.  He said he felt rich. 

What’s interesting was my dad’s clear recollection of what happened after work.  He and several other neighborhood boys would exit from the west end of the Club onto Glenview Road and walk around the corner.  Streetcars ran every hour or two.  Thus if a streetcar was approaching – or there – there was lots of incentive to traverse the quarter mile or so as quickly as possible.  My father said it was often the same conductor.  If he saw the boys — and he saw them running — he would look at his watch and hold the other arm in the air.  Holding up the streetcar.  Standing on the pavement.  Arm in the air.  One eye on the watch.  One eye on the boys.   However if one of the boys lagged, or slowed to walk, Mister Conductor would look up.  Twirl his arm in the air (“go!”) and hop on the streetcar.  And off it went.  And the boys would have to wait for an hour for the next streetcar home. 

If they tried, and ran, or at least made an effort, the streetcar would be held up for a few minutes for the boys to arrive.  And then go.  My father said he learned a lesson here.  About trying.  That nameless conductor of nearly a century ago appreciated effort.  He also knew something about charity.  It was simple.  Try?  Win.  Don’t try?  Lose.        

The Lottery – of Birth

On By scottpetersenIn The Lottery of Birth1 Comment

I’m lucky.  You who read this post are lucky.  Very lucky.  You were born into a relatively stable environment. To decent parents. You have an education. A job.  A family.  You can travel. And if you get sick, there are doctors to take care of you. The twinkling spark that suddenly became YOU arrived just at the right moment. In the right place.  The lottery.  Of birth. 

Think about those who lived a hundred years ago. A thousand. There were few of the benefits we have today. And for many folks, they just endured.  Day by day.  Yet think too about those in our world today who are born into abysmal poverty, suffocating hunger and crippling disease.  Raised in countries ravaged by violence, hatred and injustice.  Places where every day is one arduous, painful and frightening saga.   I sometimes think — that could’ve been me.  It could’ve been you.   

I’m still at a point of wondering what we can do as a nation or we can do as individuals to somehow make things just a little better.   Whatever one’s persuasion, we can all profit by the Franciscan prayer which ends “God grant me enough foolishness to believe that I can change the world so that I can do what others claim cannot be done.”  Today is the first day of the rest of your life.  What are you going to do with what’s left of it?  It’s a question we’d do well to ponder every day. . . .       

Iran

On By scottpetersenIn Iran1 Comment

What if you heard someone avow to “Kill All Americans!”   Or “Kill all Blacks!”  And then they made detailed plans to do so – and helped others to do so.  Would you want to hang around with them? Trust them?  Give them arms and ammunition?  Of course not.  You’d probably want to do something very precipitous to stop them.  But America has cozied up to Iran – the world’s leading state sponsor of terrorism.  And hatred of America and Israel.  And concluded a “nuclear arms treaty.”  Terms?  As Nancy Pelosi might say “we won’t know until we pass it.” 

Iran just last week reiterated that its objective is to “kill all Jews.”   And to “wipe Israel off the map.”  And “to kill all Americans.”  Last week.  That means most of YOU!  And every blinking day Iran puts its money where its mouth is — in support of Bashar al-Assad in Syria (all of our Gulf state allies oppose him).  Iran supports and funds Hamas, Hezbollah, the Palestinian Islamic Jihad, and factions of al-Qaeda.  It collaborates with North Korea on developing their weapons-grade nuclear weapons.  And on.  And on.  And yet, Iran is now our BFF.  And we trust them to be good.  And we are striking a deal that allows Iran to keep thousands of nuclear centrifuges.  And a sunset clause that then allows Iran to “wipe Israel off the map.”   

 America – and the world – seem to be unspooling.  Quickly.  As Henry Kissinger wryly observed a few weeks ago at a D.C. conference “[in the last six years] . . . the world has lost stability.”  In the past when evil reared its head, America would lead.  Impose harsh sanctions, seize bank accounts and lock arms with our allies.  And the stern face of unanimity would turn against the aggressor.  But today, we go hat in hand to the negotiating table.  Pleading.  And turning our back to our best friend in the region (Israel).   We work with Russia and China (I mean really?) to chip away at prior demands for compliance.  And all the while, our allies in the Middle East are circling the wagons against America.  What can possibly go wrong . . . . ?  

Swinging Blue Jeans

On By scottpetersenIn Hippy Hippy Shake, Swinging Blue JeansLeave a comment

In 1963, a 4 piece British Merseybeat band poked its head out of the Rock N’ Roll waters with “The Hippy Hippy Shake” (see https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Ke8mzgex4U ).  The group was called The Swinging Blue Jeans.  In 1966, the band went into decline.  And yet — the band – is still breathing.  Performing occasional gigs.  Interestingly, the Beatles in their ascent also did the “Hippy Hippy Shake” in September 1963 (see https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4H6i_zkjjLg).   

Donna’s hip replacement surgery went incredibly well — so well that while she is not – yet – doing the Hippy Hippy Shake, she is walking around sans cane – with little discomfort.  It’s amazing what hip replacement surgery can do.  It’s kinda “hip.”  I understand orthopedic surgeons put on the Swinging Blue Jeans when doing surgery.  They do a conga line around the operating table.  They’re also fond of “Hips Don’t Lie” (Shakira).  And it’s “Hip to be Square” (Huey Lewis and the News).  There’s even “Moviendo la Cadera en Tribal” [“Moving the Tribal Hip“] by Tommy y Los Compas.”  For some patients, they play Al Stewart’s “Hippo Song.”  Donna was not one.  I don’t think . . . . . 

ENOUGH!

On By scottpetersenIn ENOUGH!, I hate winter, Winter's Full Court Press1 Comment

March is supposed to go out like a lamb.  Not a tyrannosaurus rex.  I have had it with winter. February in Chicago was the coldest on record. Friday was the coldest March 27th in 140 years.  This morning it was 20 degrees.  The Cubs pennant run starts next week!  ENOUGH!!  Enough winter!!   I’m perfectly content when the thermometer notches into the 90’s.  I put on my Speedo, a t-shirt and flip flops and head off to work.   But today, I walked out the door bundled up like Admiral Byrd. 

Last year (March 6, 2014), I had a post about “Winter’s Full Court Press.”  The laments of a horrible, suffocating winter.  It is a year and four weeks later.  March is required to go out like a lamb.    &*#x@+%!  And we’re still getting the full court press.  Spring in Chicago is a fiction.  We usually go from 30 degrees and slushy to 90 degrees and humid on a Wednesday afternoon in April.  Where is “global warming” when we need it?  Of course that’s pretty much a fiction too as we’re learning. . . . .

So this Guy

On By scottpetersenIn Humor, So this guy1 Comment

So there’s this single guy living at home with his father and working in the family business.

When he found out he was going to inherit a fortune when his sickly father died, he decided he needed to find a wife with whom to share his fortune.

One evening, at an investment meeting, he spotted the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her natural beauty took his breath away.”I may look like just an ordinary guy,” he said to her, “but in just a few years, my father will die and I will inherit $200 million.”

Impressed, the woman asked for his business card and three days later, she became his stepmother.

Women are so much better at financial planning than men.

The Race Card

On By scottpetersenIn The race card, The Stupid CardLeave a comment

You ever done something stupid? Said anything you regret?  Said a bad word?  A word that wasn’t politically correct? If you say no, I won’t believe you. 

In my post of February 1, 2012, I mentioned how I had used an offensive slur at Boy Scout camp when I was 12 years old.  None of your business what it was.  And I was grabbed by 6 fellow Scouts and had my mouth washed out with soap by the guy who went on to be best man at my wedding.  It was the Damascus Road.  I learned.  What ever happened to washing someone’s mouth out with soap when they use a bad word?  How ’bout if we grab those boys from the University of Oklahoma and wash their mouths out with soap?  Oh yeah.  Progressives will condemn it as cruel and unusual punishment.  Better to just play the race card (which lately trumps freedom of speech) and crush them.            

I have an idea.  How about having a “stupid card“?  I remember being 19 and I was pretty stupid.  How about if we give those under the age of 21 several “stupid cards” for dumb things they do or say?  Not the criminal stuff where you throw the book at them but the stupid things — like singing a vulgar and hateful song.  Wouldn’t it be better to play a “stupid card,” then sit down with the culprit and talk to him (or her)?  And make them understand that what they did was wrong.   Give them a chance.  And then move on.  What about forgiveness?  Mulligans (see 11/9/14)?  To me, rehabilitation is a lot more productive than trying to exact a pound of flesh, to crush and to destroy.  

Talking Food

On By scottpetersenIn Fasty and Slowy, Talking foodLeave a comment

In my post of November 27, 2011, I talked about “Fasty and Slowy” — two mischievous tabletop spiders (my right and left hands each with an index finger “head”) who would often visit in restaurants when Lauren as a toddler was getting antsy. Fasty was speedy and very light (easily picked up) and Slowy was ponderous and heavy. The two would ply the tabletop – one sprinting all over creation, the other lead-footed and sluggish.  They walked up, on and around Lauren. And she would squeal with delight.  We learned that this activity would enhance her appetite and feeding her became easier. 

Fast forward to my esteemed role as grandfather. Fasty and Slowy have made their debut with Eve but so has talking food. When we’ve been out with Eve – and we want her to eat her asparagus – suddenly the fork bite of asparagus jumps to my ear and begins whispering. And I translate. “You want to go visit Eve’s tummy?” The asparagus nods. “Don’t you want to go back on the plate?” The asparagus shakes side to side – and begins whimpering. “Don’t cry I say.” Eve looks at me like she’s not quite sure.  And I offer Eve the bite. “Make the asparagus happy.” And she does. Next comes a bite of chicken. The chicken has the same modus operandi.  “You’re lonely for your friend asparagus?”  And it seems to work pretty well.  The dessert remains silent as it doesn’t have a chance to say anything. . . .

5 Guys

On By scottpetersenIn 5 Guys, Friends, Tell me who your friends are and I'll tell you who you are2 Comments

When I was a kid, my father used to tell me – over and over – “Tell me who your friends are and I’ll tell you who you are.”  I think I learned.  We all want friends we like but more importantly, we want friends who are good for us.  Friends who enrich us.  Make us think.  Make us better.  I work with really good people.  And in my off hours, I try to hang around good people.   Really good people.  Smart people.  Good golfers.  🙂   I have a vague idea of who I am.  But the jury’s still out . . . . .

And I tend to view food the way I do friends.  I normally want food that’s good for me.  Food that likes me.  Food that’s not going to cause me trouble – if you get my drift.   I have avocados for breakfast (August 20, 2013) and Saturday lunches are pretty healthy (March 15, 2012).  Donna feels the same way about food.  It’s gotta be nutritious.  So dinner can be pretty boring. . . . .  

But on Friday night, the planets aligned.  The stars stood still.  Sages from ages past looked down.  And rubbed their chins.  Looked at each other.  Solemnly.  And gave the nod.  Donna’s been home recuperating from the hip replacement.  And Friday we had no plans for dinner.  I threw out “how about some burgers and fries from 5 Guys?”  I quickly ducked.  But no missile was forthcoming.  I looked.  Donna was rubbing her chin.  She looked up and said brightly “sounds good.”  Oh my socks and shoes.  I grabbed the keys and dashed off to 5 Guys before she could change her mind.  The last time we’d had 5 Guys was maybe four years ago.   I walked in and ordered.   Got the goods.  Burgers.  Dripping with onions, cheese, lettuce, tomato and ketchup.   Crisp greasy, salty fries.  And I returned home.  And we ate.  Slowly.  Seriously.  O’m’gosh it was delicious.  We looked at each other and resolved right then and there that we are going to do this again.  At least once a year. . . . .