Sunday, July 29, 2007

Amen brotha

Well the Broncos reported to training camp today, and it won't belong before the pre-season starts. Given that it's almost time for the Hall of Fame inductions, I thought I'd comment on how not only T.D. belongs in the Hall, but so do many other Broncos besides number 7. Low and behold, my arch nemesis from The Denver Post, Mark Kiszla, was thinking the same normally I can't stand anything that this guy writes, since his primary job at the Post seems to be to bitch about the four professional sports teams in Denver, but in this case he's dead on.....

2,008 reasons T.D. must be in Hall

By Mark Kiszla
Denver Post Staff Columnist

Article Last Updated: 07/29/2007 12:29:55 AM MDT

Let's start banging down the doors to the Pro Football Hall of Fame for Terrell Davis. Anybody who votes to keep him out does not know the game. Ask yourself this: Needing 3 yards to move the chains on third down in the tense, final minutes of a tied game, who ya gonna call to carry the rock? The No. 5 worn by Paul Hornung, given a Hall pass only because he appeared golden when reflected in the glory of the Green Bay Packers dynasty? Or the No. 30 on the sturdy back of T.D., who twice carried the Broncos to the NFL championship? There's not even a doubt which of the two running backs Vince Lombardi would have picked to run to daylight.

But let's be honest here.

Taking all the hits while rushing for 2,008 yards in a single season will not be as difficult for T.D. as wedging one lousy foot in the door at the Hall of Fame. "When I look back at the other running backs that have made the Hall of Fame and where (Davis) ranks with his accomplishments - MVP of a Super Bowl, MVP of the league, rushing for over 2,000 yards, I would be very surprised if he was not inducted into the Hall of Fame," Broncos owner Pat Bowlen said Saturday. The truth, however, is nastier.

The Pro Football Hall of Fame hates Denver.

That not only aggravates Bowlen, but it should worry coach Mike Shanahan and cornerback Champ Bailey if they have any aspirations of seeing a brilliant career end in Canton, Ohio. You can't get there from here. Unless your name is John Elway. Win for win, no NFL team of the past 30 years has been more ignored by the Hall of Fame than the Broncos. Way too much football history has been made in Denver to have Elway as the franchise's lone member of the pro game's most exclusive club. And the case is already being made against Davis, who will be honored by a welcome to his own team's Ring of Fame later this year. Here's the rap: T.D., a product of Denver's offensive system, was as an old man by age 30, and injuries robbed the longevity from his pro career. We hear the argument.

But maybe we should give those bashers of T.D. a slightly altered version of the Mile High Salute.

If greatness is defined by coming up big when it matters most, then check the numbers compiled by T.D. in the NFL playoffs: 1,140 yards rushing on a 5.6 average with a dozen touchdowns, to say nothing of bravely running blindly on the field with a migraine in Super Bowl XXXII. It's hard to deny what Davis achieved against rugged competition in those eight postseason games is as spectacular as anything Hall of Fame running back Gale Sayers did in the best of his seven short seasons with the Chicago Bears. Hall of Fame voters have ripped off Broncos linebacker Randy Gradishar, and it's too late to expect them to start giving proper credit to the Orange Crush defense now. So the NFL owes Denver. A good way to make amends would be to recognize that T.D. was the most essential player in making a great football city's fondest dreams come true. "We don't win those Super Bowls without Davis," Shanahan said.

Sure, tight end Shannon Sharpe might be too loud for the voters to keep out. But the contributions of tackle Gary Zimmerman, receiver Rod Smith and any other hero from the Super Bowl years could well be ignored for decades to come. "It has always been a thorn in my side that the team has played in six Super Bowls, won two and is a team that has had a lot of great players. We have one player in the Hall of Fame, in John Elway," Bowlen said. "I've made it clear as a member on the board of the Hall of Fame, that I think our process on electing players into the Hall of Fame is flawed." Only one thing can prevent the gatekeepers to the Hall from admitting Davis. And it's not his history of injuries. It's a history of voter stupidity.

Monday, July 23, 2007

Hello from Iowa!

What am I doing in Iowa you ask? Well, we are bidding on a very large commercial printing job at work, and it required a site visit to a production facility in Des Moines. Yes, my first ever business trip - booked a flight, rented a car, stayed in a swank hotel (well, it's a Hampton Inn, which is far more swank than I'm used to - they actually called me 10 minutes after I'd checked in to see how I liked my room. Nice!) and everything. Tonight we're going to dinner with the folks we're here to see, then we have our big meeting tomorrow.

So far, my impression of Iowa is that it's a nice place....with corn. Sweet jeez, there is corn everywhere you look. Even in the middle of the commercial areas, there is corn. Mmm....corn on the cob sounds really good right now. With lots of butter and salt.....anyway, I'll be home tomorrow night. If you like corn, visit Des Moines sometime.

Friday, July 20, 2007

Senator, Here's the Scenario...


By Hart Seely
Posted Friday, July 20, 2007, at 11:07 AM ET


On May 15, Fox News host Brit Hume brought excitement to an otherwise dull presidential debate with this question:

"Here is the premise: Three shopping centers near major U.S. cities have been hit by suicide bombers. Hundreds are dead, thousands injured. A fourth attack has been averted when the attackers were captured off the Florida coast and taken to Guantanamo Bay, where they are being questioned. U.S. intelligence believes that another larger attack is planned and could come at any time. First question to you, Senator McCain. How aggressively would you interrogate those being held at Guantanamo Bay for information about where the next attack might be?"

Here are questions that should be posed at upcoming Democratic and Republican debates....

Gentlemen, here's the scenario: As you are flying home from Moscow—having told the world you will never deal with terrorists—hijackers, posing as reporters, seize Air Force One. They vow to kill a hostage every half-hour, including your wife and daughter, until you release a murderous Russian general. I'll start with Senator Obama. Do you negotiate with the hijackers in the hope of saving lives, or do you flee into the bowels of the craft, then pick them off, one by one, with makeshift shanks and your bare hands?

Candidates, pay attention: An international financier has smuggled an atom bomb into Fort Knox. He loves only gold. Only gold. After an amazing sequence of events, including car chases, sexual conquests, and your defeat of the assassin known as Oddjob, you find yourself staring at the interior of a nuclear device. The final seconds are ticking down. This goes to you, Senator Clinton: Do you cut the blue wire, or do you cut the red wire?

Listen carefully: A computer from the future has sent a shape-shifting cyborg, made of prototype liquid metal, to kill you. At the last moment, the governor of California appears, saying, "Come with me, if you want to live!" We'll start with Governor Huckabee. Would you agree to run with this bizarre, Republican hybrid, if it requires you to soften your stances on gay rights and climate change?

A tornado has transported you to a magical land, where a jubilant throng of midgets greets you as liberator. They direct you toward a road paved with yellow bricks. We'll start with you, Mayor Giuliani. Would you consider capturing one of these exotic creatures and subjecting him or her to enhanced interrogation techniques, such as waterboarding and electric shock, if it means extracting vital information that will determine whether the yellow route leads home — or into a trap?

For unexplained reasons, you find yourself reliving a Groundhog's Day festival throughout eternity. Let's start with you, Senator McCain. After, say, 10,000 of these repetitive days, would you consider capturing one of the locals and subjecting him or her to enhanced interrogation techniques, such as waterboarding, to gain answers about your predicament, or—for that matter—as a means of breaking up the endless monotony?

It is the year 2011. New York City is a super-prison. After an attempted hijacking, your Presidential Ejector Pod lands in the center of this urban hell. Fortunately, the White House is sending to save you a condemned criminal and war hero, the infamous Snake Plisken. Let's start with Congressman Tancredo. Should you lie low and wait for help, or should you make a desperate run at the wall that was built to keep illegals out of America?

Three criminals from Krypton, freed by a nuclear blast in outer space, have come to Earth with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal man. Worse, Superman has disappeared. The criminals' leader, General Zod, orders you to kneel before him as a symbol of America's defeat. I'll start with you, Senator Brownback. If the act means saving millions of lives, and perhaps buying time until the Man of Steel returns, would you forsake your belief in Jesus Christ and bow before this evil alien?

You see dead people. They do not know they are dead. Let's start with you, Congressman Kucinich. Have you figured out why you can see them?

Saturday, July 14, 2007

Lisa Roti

I've never really been that into live music, but when I heard that Lisa Roti (who has become a recent favorite of mine) was coming to Hilton Head to play at the Jazz Corner I decided to go see her perform and take Allison out for a night on the town. We both had a great time and Lisa was every bit as awesome in person as she is on her album. During one of the breaks I even worked up the nerve to go and talk to her, asking where I could buy her CD (she isn't on iTunes, and if you ain't on iTunes Morgan ain't gonna buy your music.....although Morgan will make an exception in this case!) and she pointed me to her album on CD Baby. If you are any kind of Jazz fan at all, do yourself a favor and buy her CD. Seriously.

Wednesday, July 04, 2007


By Keith Olbermann
Anchor, 'Countdown'

“I didn’t vote for him,” an American once said, “But he’s my president, and I hope he does a good job.” That—on this eve of the 4th of July—is the essence of this democracy, in 17 words. And that is what President Bush threw away yesterday in commuting the sentence of Lewis “Scooter” Libby. The man who said those 17 words—improbably enough—was the actor John Wayne. And Wayne, an ultra-conservative, said them, when he learned of the hair’s-breadth election of John F. Kennedy instead of his personal favorite, Richard Nixon in 1960. “I didn’t vote for him but he’s my president, and I hope he does a good job.”

The sentiment was doubtlessly expressed earlier, but there is something especially appropriate about hearing it, now, in Wayne’s voice: The crisp matter-of-fact acknowledgement that we have survived, even though for nearly two centuries now, our Commander-in-Chief has also served, simultaneously, as the head of one political party and often the scourge of all others. We as citizens must, at some point, ignore a president’s partisanship. Not that we may prosper as a nation, not that we may achieve, not that we may lead the world—but merely that we may function. But just as essential to the seventeen words of John Wayne, is an implicit trust—a sacred trust: That the president for whom so many did not vote, can in turn suspend his political self long enough, and for matters imperative enough, to conduct himself solely for the benefit of the entire Republic.

Our generation’s willingness to state “we didn’t vote for him, but he’s our president, and we hope he does a good job,” was tested in the crucible of history, and earlier than most. And in circumstances more tragic and threatening. And we did that with which history tasked us. We enveloped our President in 2001. And those who did not believe he should have been elected—indeed those who did not believe he had been elected—willingly lowered their voices and assented to the sacred oath of non-partisanship. And George W. Bush took our assent, and re-configured it, and honed it, and shaped it to a razor-sharp point and stabbed this nation in the back with it. Were there any remaining lingering doubt otherwise, or any remaining lingering hope, it ended yesterday when Mr. Bush commuted the prison sentence of one of his own staffers. Did so even before the appeals process was complete; did so without as much as a courtesy consultation with the Department of Justice; did so despite what James Madison—at the Constitutional Convention—said about impeaching any president who pardoned or sheltered those who had committed crimes “advised by” that president; did so without the slightest concern that even the most detached of citizens must look at the chain of events and wonder: To what degree was Mr. Libby told: break the law however you wish—the President will keep you out of prison?

In that moment, Mr. Bush, you broke that fundamental com-pact between yourself and the majority of this nation’s citizens—the ones who did not cast votes for you. In that moment, Mr. Bush, you ceased to be the President of the United States. In that moment, Mr. Bush, you became merely the President of a rabid and irresponsible corner of the Republican Party. And this is too important a time, Sir, to have a commander-in-chief who puts party ahead of nation. This has been, of course, the gathering legacy of this Administration. Few of its decisions have escaped the stain of politics. The extraordinary Karl Rove has spoken of “a permanent Republican majority,” as if such a thing—or a permanent Democratic majority—is not antithetical to that upon which rests: our country, our history, our revolution, our freedoms. Yet our Democracy has survived shrewder men than Karl Rove. And it has survived the frequent stain of politics upon the fabric of government. But this administration, with ever-increasing insistence and almost theocratic zealotry, has turned that stain into a massive oil spill. The protection of the environment is turned over to those of one political party, who will financially benefit from the rape of the environment. The protections of the Constitution are turned over to those of one political party, who believe those protections unnecessary and extravagant and quaint. The enforcement of the laws is turned over to those of one political party, who will swear beforehand that they will not enforce those laws. The choice between war and peace is turned over to those of one political party, who stand to gain vast wealth by ensuring that there is never peace, but only war. And now, when just one cooked book gets corrected by an honest auditor, when just one trampling of the inherent and inviolable fairness of government is rejected by an impartial judge, when just one wild-eyed partisan is stopped by the figure of blind justice, this President decides that he, and not the law, must prevail.

I accuse you, Mr. Bush, of lying this country into war.

I accuse you of fabricating in the minds of your own people, a false implied link between Saddam Hussein and 9/11.

I accuse you of firing the generals who told you that the plans for Iraq were disastrously insufficient.

I accuse you of causing in Iraq the needless deaths of 3,586 of our brothers and sons, and sisters and daughters, and friends and neighbors.

I accuse you of subverting the Constitution, not in some misguided but sincerely-motivated struggle to combat terrorists, but instead to stifle dissent.

I accuse you of fomenting fear among your own people, of creating the very terror you claim to have fought.

I accuse you of exploiting that unreasoning fear, the natural fear of your own people who just want to live their lives in peace, as a political tool to slander your critics and libel your opponents.

I accuse you of handing part of this Republic over to a Vice President who is without conscience, and letting him run roughshod over it.

And I accuse you now, Mr. Bush, of giving, through that Vice President, carte blanche to Mr. Libby, to help defame Ambassador Joseph Wilson by any means necessary, to lie to Grand Juries and Special Counsel and before a court, in order to protect the mechanisms and particulars of that defamation, with your guarantee that Libby would never see prison, and, in so doing, as Ambassador Wilson himself phrased it here last night, of you becoming an accessory to the obstruction of justice. When President Nixon ordered the firing of the Watergate special prosecutor Archibald Cox during the infamous “Saturday Night Massacre” on October 20th, 1973, Cox initially responded tersely, and ominously. “Whether ours shall be a government of laws and not of men, is now for Congress, and ultimately, the American people.” President Nixon did not understand how he had crystallized the issue of Watergate for the American people. It had been to that point about the obscure meaning behind an attempt to break in to a rival party’s headquarters; and the labyrinthine effort to cover-up that break-in and the related crimes. But in one night, Nixon transformed it. Watergate instantaneously became a simpler issue: a President overruling the inexorable march of the law of insisting—in a way that resonated viscerally with millions who had not previously understood - that he was the law. Not the Constitution. Not the Congress. Not the Courts. Just him.

Just - Mr. Bush - as you did, yesterday.

The twists and turns of Plame-Gate, of your precise and intricate lies that sent us into this bottomless pit of Iraq; your lies upon the lies to discredit Joe Wilson; your lies upon the lies upon the lies to throw the sand at the “referee” of Prosecutor Fitzgerald’s analogy. These are complex and often painful to follow, and too much, perhaps, for the average citizen. But when other citizens render a verdict against your man, Mr. Bush—and then you spit in the faces of those jurors and that judge and the judges who were yet to hear the appeal—the average citizen understands that, Sir. It’s the fixed ballgame and the rigged casino and the pre-arranged lottery all rolled into one—and it stinks. And they know it. Nixon’s mistake, the last and most fatal of them, the firing of Archibald Cox, was enough to cost him the presidency. And in the end, even Richard Nixon could say he could not put this nation through an impeachment. It was far too late for it to matter then, but as the decades unfold, that single final gesture of non-partisanship, of acknowledged responsibility not to self, not to party, not to “base,” but to country, echoes loudly into history. Even Richard Nixon knew it was time to resign. Would that you could say that, Mr. Bush. And that you could say it for Mr. Cheney. You both crossed the Rubicon yesterday. Which one of you chose the route, no longer matters. Which is the ventriloquist, and which the dummy, is now irrelevant. But that you have twisted the machinery of government into nothing more than a tawdry machine of politics, is the only fact that remains relevant.

It is nearly July 4th, Mr. Bush, the commemoration of the moment we Americans decided that rather than live under a King who made up the laws, or erased them, or ignored them—or commuted the sentences of those rightly convicted under them—we would force our independence, and regain our sacred freedoms. We of this time—and our leaders in Congress, of both parties—must now live up to those standards which echo through our history: Pressure, negotiate, impeach—get you, Mr. Bush, and Mr. Cheney, two men who are now perilous to our Democracy, away from its helm. For you, Mr. Bush, and for Mr. Cheney, there is a lesser task. You need merely achieve a very low threshold indeed. Display just that iota of patriotism which Richard Nixon showed, on August 9th, 1974.


And give us someone—anyone—about whom all of us might yet be able to quote John Wayne, and say, “I didn’t vote for him, but he’s my president, and I hope he does a good job.”

Good night, and good luck.