Stream of thought during the Dog Days of Summer

It’s been one of those periods where writing – about anything – has not been at the top of my priorities list. Health issues in the family, an upcoming wedding, Summer doldrums, political burnout and a general lack of enthusiasm all combine to muffle my desire to speak in the public square.

Certainly this too shall pass. But in the meantime, some random thoughts and musings.

I’m already sick and tired of discussing politics and especially of reading others “discussing” politics. More like “disgusting” politics … Nothing but two groups standing on the sides of a deep chasm tossing insults and epithets at each other. I am no saint in this regard if judged by my past internet history, so I will toss no stones from my glass house. But here’s a thought … If you cannot stake out a thoughtful position and defend it intellectually without having to denigrate the character and motivations of the opposition, you are not helping find solutions; you’re only making the chasm bigger.
To the guy in the Audi, chattering away on his cell phone trying to edge out in front of me from the Dunkin Donuts after getting your bagel and Dunkaccino: Sorry, but you weren’t sitting through three cycles of the traffic light before you tried the I’m-too-busy-on-my-important-cell-phone-call-to-bother-waiting-like-everyone-else trick. I have a Rule of Thumb for these occasions: If you are sitting there at the driveway as I pull up, I will gladly allow you to exit into traffic in front of me. But if you pull up as I’m sitting there – especially when I have been sitting in heavy traffic for a spell, you are subject to the vagaries of my
Steve Van Buren

current Commute Mood. Your worst scenario is waiting until the next traffic opportunity presents itself. Sorry …
Melky Cabrerra, Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, Mark McGwire, and now Lance Armstrong … I’m really regretting holding athletes in such high esteem based on their ability to play children’s games. Seems like more and more of them cannot manage to do what they do for a living without cheating like riverboat flim-flam artists.
And yet despite the above, a tip of the hat to recently passed Steve Van Buren, an athlete from a time when men simply strapped on the pads and went at each other mano-y-mano without the need for pharmaceutical enhancement! Beer seemed to fit them just fine. (Read Ray Didinger’s column on memories of Van Buren.)
Medical researchers claim to have the Happiness Gene that is apparently effective in women but not so for men. Several thoughts here … a) That women need a gene to make them happy is not surprising. For us guys, happiness is as close as our golf clubs, fishing and hunting gear, television, or the ever elusive “happy woman”. b) How long will it take medical researchers to figure out where the female Happiness Gene has been hiding since Adam ate the apple Eve made him eat?!?
Wait for it now … “Oh yeah … Well, if you guys weren’t such ——- ——- —–, WE wouldn’t NEED a Happiness Gene!!!”
Some will say I am Brave, Stupid, or Reckless. Actually I’m just glad my wife thinks my blog is pointless and rarely reads it!