The Deed Is Done

Well, my daughter had her palette expander installed today. She took it pretty well. The staff at the orthodontist's office raved about how good she was.

Yep, she's a trooper.

I am not.

This morning I called her babysitter and pleaded with her to take my child to the orthodontist for me, and I would watch the children for her. She turned me down. So I took her myself and sat inpatiently in the waiting room, all the while envisioning that the evil monsters on the other side of the door were inflicting unspeakable harm upon my innocent baby. It took everything in me to not jump up, run through that door, and rescue her from the grasp of her torturers.

Now you see why I have to sleep with the television on, right? I can't be trusted with my own imagination.

Anyway, my daughter came and got me after about a half an hour. Hmmm. She looked okay. There was no apparent distress. I was skeptical as she led me back to the room of horrors. Once inside, I asked her if she was in pain. "A little," she replied. Then the doctor came in and directed me to wash my hands. I complied without asking why. (The force is strong in that one.) He then proceeded to show me the appliance in my child's mouth and "activate" the device by turning the key right in front of me. Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, the man handed me the key and directed me to do what he just did.

Let me just say that I'm a strong person. I am not your typical feature film female (100 points for alliteration!). I've got a high threshold for pain, I don't scream when I'm startled, and I've never fainted in my life. But when that man asked me to crank that device, my knees got a little weak. I was happy to be already sitting down.

Dr. Tingling was great. He was patient with me and guided me through it. My child was not as patient. She wanted me to hurry so she could get back to school. She's a strong kid.

So, all is well for now. She says her mouth hurt earlier but feels much better now. She's drooling a lot. Dr. Tingling says this will get better as she gets used to having the appliance in her mouth. And she hasn't quite figured out how to chew with that thing yet, but I'm hoping that will get better too...or she'll have to live on oatmeal and apple sauce for the next three months.

Anyway, I want to thank everyone who helped me through this drama. I've got wonderful friends. I especially need to thank Shoney and Tammy, whose words of wisdom gave me great strength. Thanks y'all. I love ya!

-e

Not Too Shabby

Wow! I've gotten a lot of wonderful compliments on my new fall-themed blog header. Although I'd love to take ALL the credit, I can't. I created the header from digital scrapbooking kits I downloaded from http://www.shabbyprincess.com/. Most of the header (papers, ribbons, bookplate, staples, and cool transparency) came from their Shabby Fall kit, while the title alphabet and the photo turns are in the Shabby Mommy kit. Each of the kits I used are free, but they have a great selection of kits for sale. If you are into digital scrapbooking, you should really check out their site. If you're not into scrabooking but you are just looking for blog headers, they have some premade blog headers for sale which are reasonably priced at $2.50 each with additional button graphics included.
Oh, and the flowers I used are from a free kit I found called "My Girl". I wish I had noted the site on which I found it, but unfortunately I didn't. I think it's from a French designer, since the downloads are labeled "papiers", "bordure", "fleur", and "cadre". It also says "Charlie 54 Design", but I was unable to locate the website again.

Anyway, thanks again for all the kudos!

-e

Mommy The Terrible

My daughter is supposed to go to the orthodontist on Thursday, and I'm the one feeling anxiety. I love my child. I would end your life in less than two seconds for even thinking about harming her. So how is it that I am going to pay someone, a relative stranger to me, to install what looks like a medieval torture device in my child's mouth?

Dr. Tingling, my daughter's orthodontist, calls it a palate expander. My daughter has significant tooth crowding, owing to the fact that her mouth is too small for her permanent teeth. It's hereditary. I have a small mouth, too. (I'm holding up my middle finger to everyone who scoffed at that statement!) I was shown x-rays and photos and was assured that this apparatus would help correct the space issue. She will later need braces to coax the permanent teeth into alignment.

Okay. Sounds simple.

Except that the expander is designed to literally pull apart the roof of her mouth. I was advised that it is best to do it now, before the palate fuses together. If I were to wait, surgery would be necessary to break that suture apart, then she would still need the expander. A friend of mine has a son younger than my daughter, and he had an expander installed and survived. So logic dictated to the vulcan in me that it would be best for her to get it now.

When I inquired whether this is going to be painful for my child, I was told she "might" feel some "discomfort". That is medical speak for "yes". And then he showed me how the thing works, as if that was supposed to make me feel better about it.

Apparently I am going to have to stick a key into this thing twice each day and make it exert even more force upon my child's mouth. I am to be my own child's torturer, and I am paying an orthodontist for the right to do it. I'm not sure I even have the stomach for it. Nevertheless, I sat there in that man's office with my child, and I agreed to this. I don't know how to account for my apparent lapse in good sense, though I suspect some version of the Jedi mind trick was involved.

As we get closer to her appointment, I'm having to fight the overwhelming urge to protect her from the cruelty of this world. The orthodontist is clearly a sadist who has found a way to legalize child abuse in this country. And I am clearly his flunky.

-e

Better Late Than Never

Justice is slow, but sometimes it comes around. This morning, the Georgia Supreme court finally put an end to Genarlow Wilson's nightmare and ordered his release.

For those who aren't familiar with the case, Genarlow Wilson was convicted in 2005. It seems that young Genarlow, at the age of 17, attended a New Year's Eve party in 2003, where he received oral sex from a 15-year-old girl and had sex with another 17-year-old girl. In true sign-of-the-times fashion, these sex acts were caught on tape, which proved to be both a blessing and a curse when both girls later cried rape. The young Mr. Wilson's claim that the sex was consensual was corroborated by the videotape, and he was acquitted of the rape against the 17-year-old. Unfortunately for Genarlow, the age of consent in the state of Georgia is 16. So, because there was video evidence of his sex act with the 15-year-old, although clearly consensual, he was charged and convicted of aggravated child molestation, a felony at the time which carried a mandatory minimum 10-year sentence.

Now, far be it for me to point out the two-ton elephant in the room, but one should definitely note that Genarlow Wilson was an honor student and star athlete at the time. He is also African-American. Both of the girls who he was accused of assaulting are White, as is the prosecutor in the case. I bring that up because it's a factor, not only because the prosecutor's office believed these girls despite clear evidence to the contrary but also in the prosecutor's decision to charge a 17-year-old with molesting a "child" less than 2 years younger than him. Would the case have even escalated to that point if the young man in question had been White? Call me a cynic if you must, but i seriously doubt it. Prosecutorial discretion would probably have prevailed in that situation.

For the record, the prosecutor did offer a deal shortly after a judges decision earlier this year to reduce this kid's sentence to 12 months and free him (the state's appeal of that decision is what necessitated today's ruling). They offered to reduce the charge so that he would not have to be labeled as a sex offender. The reduced charge would have carried a 10-year sentence also, but he would only have to serve five with credit for the two he has already served. Thanks, but no thanks.

Georgia's law has since been changed so as not to affect kids so close in age. It came too late to help Genarlow Wilson, who missed out on his college scolarship because of this.

Anyway, this should be a lesson to all young boys (and girls) about discretion. Just because you can do something doesn't mean you should (this also applies to Kobe Jellybean Bryant, for the record). But I am glad that Genarlow is finally free.

Read more about the court's decision here.

Real Women Please Stand Up

When I'm surfing, I sometimes come across some of the most unique things. Most are worth a chuckle or two, but I quickly forget about them. This is definitely different...because I've been laughing about this for the last few hours.

Okay, so I happened upon a Canadian website advertising a product called the P-Mate. What is it? It's a device that supposedly gives females the ability to pee...wait for it...standing up!!!!

Give me a moment. I'm laughing uncontrollably again...

Okay I'm good now.

If you get a chance, you should definitely check out the stories on the humor link of the site.

The obvious comedy of all this aside, I can definitely see why this product would be useful. Any female who's ever had to relieve herself in a filthy, grimy public restroom can see it too. As well as any mother who has found herself in the middle of nowhere when her young daughter, who swore before they left home not five minutes prior that she didn't have to use the bathroom, suddenly declares she can't hold it any longer.

And what about the evolutionary implications? Young girls could develop hand-to-eye coordination as toddlers like their male counterparts.

Haha! First we pee standing up, then we elect a female leader of the free world, then we force men to have periods and give birth to our young!

Okay, maybe not. But still those crafty Canadians might actually be on to something...

-e

High School IS important!

I've been told all my life that education is important, and I always believed it. But I must confess that there are precious few things I learned in high school besides algebra (which I technically learned in junior high) that have had actual application in my real life. In fact, most of what I use daily - reading, basic math and logic, be polite, and don't go outside without your coat in the middle of winter - are things I learned in grammar school.

So what, exactly, was the point of high school besides acting as a stepping stone to college? I've finally figured it out.

I was at IKEA today, and I bought a tall bookcase for my daughter's room. After I got it to the car I realized it was much too long to fit in my trunk. As I pondered how best to get my purchase home, I thought back to my flag corps days. I remembered how we'd pile 5 or 6 girls, each with a 6-foot long flag pole, into a compact car on a daily basis.

And then it hit me - I would have to lay the long furniture-containing box just like the flag poles.

Ha! Success!

The box wasn't quite as easy to get into the car as those narrow flag poles were, but the principle was the same.

And there you have it! After all these years I finally know why high school was relevant. You make life-long friends and you learn how to transport furniture.

-e

Oh Lord!

I've had it up to HERE with folk and their religion these days. Don't get me wrong. If you find a religion that moves you, I'm nothing but happy for you. But, please...LEAVE ME OUT OF IT!

This is especially true of the newly faithful. Come on! Last week you were a hedonistic, narcissistic, pernicious lush. Then you happened into a church one day, and now you think you must drag me down your chosen religious path with you, whether I want to go or not.

Why do some people seem to feel it is their right to dictate to me about what I believe or don't believe? I think there has to be some kind of bounty on my soul. Why else would people be trying so hard to "save" it? Perhaps the procurement of my soul buys one a free pass into heaven...and a handful of extra game tokens.

In any event, I've grown weary of the constant badgering. So I've compiled a list of pointers that will allow us to peacefully coexist.

1. If you ask if I am of a certain religion, and I tell you I am not, you DO NOT get to ask me to explain myself. It is not incumbent upon me to justify my beliefs to you.
2. You DO NOT get to debate monotheistic religion (Judaism, Christianity, and Islam included, among others) if you cannot engage in an educated discourse about paganism or polytheism in general. How can you effectively lobby for any religion if you are unaware of its origins?
3. If you engage me in any debate on religion, DO NOT attempt to use your religious book of choice to prove your point. Newsflash: this is circular logic. If I don't espouse your religion, it follows that I do not regard its text as the ultimate truth. Think people!
4. Regurgitating chapter and verse numbers to me DOES NOT make you sound smart. Nor does it in any way aid your argument (see #3). Get over yourself! Other primates have also demonstrated the ability to memorize...so score one for Charles Darwin.
5. DO NOT try to convert me to your religion by testifying to me about how your faith saved your life. Please keep in mind that I can assemble, within a matter of minutes, people of all different religious beliefs, all of whom can relate similar anecdotes about their chosen path.
6. DO NOT proclaim that you are going to pray for me and then wait for me to thank you. Who asked you anyway? There is really no reason for you to tell me of your intent. If praying for me helps you sleep at night, then do it. Or don't. Either way, my acknowledgement should not be requisite for your personal action.
7. DO NOT DARE tell me to whom you think I "need" to pray or what you think I "need" to believe. This is not only presumptuous, condescending, and insulting, but also very annoying. I am not an idiot. Do not treat me like one.
8. If you invite me to a religious service, and I decline, you SHOULD NOT take that to mean that if you annoy me about it long enough I will miraculously want to go. There are reasons I do not enjoy attending these things, and you've just brought the primary one into sharp focus. If you delight in going, then go. You don't really need to roll with backup.
9. DO NOT continually try to get me to espouse your beliefs. If your religion is so wonderful, why do you need the hard sell? Who are you trying to convince anyway?
10. NEVER tell me that the reason I don't share your beliefs is that I don't understand what it's all about. There's a good chance I've studied more about your religion than you have.

Mos Def: You Make the Call

Okay, so HBO's Real Time With Bill Maher is one of my favorite shows on television, and I believe last Friday's episode (9/7/07), with Mos Def and Cornel West as panelists, was a classic. I've seen it at least seven times since it aired. So, imagine my surprise when I found several people online criticizing Mos Def for some of his comments on the show. I kinda thought he was brilliant.

For those unfamiliar with Real Time, it's the old Politically Incorrect (the show that got Bill Maher kicked off ABC) kicked up a notch. It's a panel, usually with three members, discussing relevant political issues with Bill. In case you don't have HBO, I've posted the entire episode (in sections) in sections, beginning with Bill's opening monologue:


In the interest of continuity, I'm also posting Bill's interview with retired Colonel Larry Wilkerson. It's not a bad interview, but it's definitely not as great as the rest of the show:


And now the good part. This is where the panel comes in and, in this case, pretty much takes over the show.



A brief but interesting interview with Ralph Nader:


Then back to the good stuff:




At the end of every show, Bill introduces his "New Rules". These are usually funny little life rules that Bill comes up with through astute observation and interesting reason.


After the show, hbo.com hosts Overtime, where the panelists briefly respond to a viewer question or two.


Okay, now that you're up to speed...LOL

I've read several posts from people who believe MD came off as a paranoid idiot and that he lost all credibility when he said he didn't believe Bin Laden and al-Qaeda are a threat and were behind the attacks on the WTC. I disagree. Although it isn't an opinion most people share (and I, for the record, am included in this pool), I had to admit that the man had a point. Why do most of us believe al-Qaeda is our greatest threat? Because our country's current administration told us they are. And why do we take this at face value when they have a record of lies and miscalculations? I think he showed a great amount of independent thought in his assessment, something that has been seriously lacking in this country for several years now.

People are criticizing him for saying he believes in Bigfoot. Oh, come on, people! Please go buy a sense of humor.

Anyway, I'm interested to know what you think. Is MD an uninformed lunatic? Or is he a brilliant free-thinker?

A-Ha!...I Knew It!

It looks like I've been vindicated. The New England Patriots are cheaters. I've been saying it for years, and now it seems the league might actually acknowledge that fact. The devil might finally get his come-uppance. I love it!

Dilemma

I've got a problem.

Okay, you've got jokes...but I'm serious about this. This is keeping me up at night. (Well...that's not exactly true, since I'm up most of the night anyway.)

In case you didn't know, the NFL is kind enough to give me a spectacular birthday gift every year. It's called the start of the regular season. This year is no different in that respect, as the first Football Sunday falls on my birthday again this year.

But I'm approaching this wondrous event with a good deal of trepidation. Why? For one reason:

Randy Moss is playing for the New England Patriots.

Okay, so maybe it's not the end of the world. But it's pretty damn close. I can't stand it! This situation threatens to shatter every notion I ever thought I had about the world of football. The crux of the problem is twofold:

1) I adore Randy Moss.
2) I abhor the Patriots.

Why do I love Randy? That's easy. He's a great athlete, and he's obstinate. How could you NOT like a guy like that? (By the way, the "great athlete" part of the equation is key, lest you mere mortal men think it's okay to be obstinate. Oh, and someone explain to T.O. that the key word is "obstinate" and NOT "asinine"...and then get him a dictionary...and then read it to him 'cause I'm not too certain he knows how.)

You see, ever since I was a wee little tot I've been a Raiders fan. I think I was about three years old when I first became enamored with The Black and Silver. Madden was a coach then, not a video game. That's how long I've been a Raider fan. It's why the names Marcus Allen, Howie Long, and Rich Gannon always bring a smile to my face. It's why the words "Tuck Rule" cause my body to convulse uncontrollably for several minutes at a time. It's why I despise the Patriots. It's why I believe Bill Belichick is the devil.

Yeah...the whole satan thing is a little harsh, but it's the only thing that makes sense. First I thought Tom Brady had made a deal with the devil, on account of the whole U of M thing too. Then I realized that, with Belichick is both GM and coach. So how does a team continue to win despite releasing a string of world-class players to free agency? How does a team become the only champions in the history of the NFL ever to benefit from the Tuck Rule? You make the call.

But you're an agnostic. You don't even believe in satan.

Ah, but you are incorrect Grasshopper. My being agnostic simply means I'm not arrogant enough to believe I know definitively one way or another whether heaven or hell exists. Personally, I tend to lean toward the negative side of that argument. But Belichick, in my opinion, is the closest thing to concrete proof that the devil does exist. Well, him and G. W. Bush, to be sure. But I digress.

So, I've had to watch athletes I can't stand play on teams that I love. Romanowski, who I never liked, playing for the Raiders comes immediately to mind. And then there's Antoine Walker, who I consider a jackass, playing for the Miami Heat. That has never been a problem. I root for the team I love and hope the player I can't stand doesn't do anything stupid. (As we all know, hope didn't work very well for Romo.)

But now a player I love is on a team I hate. How do I reconcile that in my head? I want Randy to catch passes, but every football he catches benefits the Patriots. I'm not really sure I know how to handle that. Since my time is obviously running out, and I'm no closer to a solution, I'm asking for your help.

Does anyone have a solution for me? If you've been in a similar situation, how did you handle it?

If It Isn't Love

Before I forget to mention it, I gotta tell you that I went to the New Edition concert last Friday night. Those fellas gave a great concert! It was arguably the best I've ever attended. However, there were a couple things that could have made the evening better.

First, when we initially decided to buy tickets, they were advertising the New Edition concert with Jodeci. More than worth the price of admission. The day we bought the tickets, however, it was changed to K-Ci and JoJo.

We thought we were buying front-row seats, and, in fact, we did. What we didn't know, though, was that they were going to put several fold-away seats between us and the stage. I'm not sure how you got to sit there. I'm guessing those were radio contest winners and VIP's such as Derrick Coleman, who ended up sitting right in front of us.

Now, when K-Ci and JoJo came on stage, my first thought was that they found two little kids to put on pinstriped suits and pretend to be K-Ci and JoJo. It took me a minute to realize that the two little guys were, in fact, actually K-Ci and JoJo. Not everyone had filtered into the Fox Theatre yet, so they were pleading with those of us who were in our seats to stand up and get into it. We felt bad for them (most people were not getting up), so we stood up and danced and clapped along with them. Just so you know, JoJo's voice is pretty much the same. K-Ci struggled a little, but I was pleasantly surprised. I'd heard that he was so cracked out his voice sounded like a down-and-out Eddie King, Jr. in The Five Heartbeats.

Is there a heart in the house tonight?...

Then K-Ci started acting a flat-out clown, including a stint where he rode the shoulders of a large guy, who appeared to be a bodyguard, into the audience. And I've never seen anyone so fascinated with their own pelvis. I guess when you're high you have to keep checking to make sure it's still there.

So, then there was a long, long, lonnnng (and I do mean lonnnng) intermission. The crowd definitely filled in for New Edition. A whole lot of people showed up during intermission.

Including Derrick Coleman, who bulldozed his way down our row, shoved me backward, and stole the bag of New Edition concert stuff I had purchased. I had to chase that fool down and snatch my bag away. And then I told him, "Listen here, DC! I don't want any trouble. But if you try taking my stuff again, you and I are gonna have to come to blows!"

Okay, that's not what really went down. He actually did make his way down our row (I don't think he knew he was in the chairs between us and the stage. Anyway, the row was pretty narrow, so as he passed in front of me (and he did politely say "excuse me"), I was forced to lean way back so he could pass. I guess his foot got caught on my bag, which was on the floor in front of me, and he was dragging it down the row as he walked. I did have to chase him down and unhook my bag from his foot, but, in actuality, he was pretty oblivious to having dragged it.

But the real story is not very exciting, so I'll stick to what I first told you from now on. Sorry, DC. It's not personal. It's all about dramatic effect.

When New Edition came out, they gave me my money's worth. They sang all the old hits, even Candy Girl and Popcorn Love, and performed all the old dance routines that went along with them. They did this with an energy that near-40-year-old men (and, 40+ in Johnny Gill's case) do not normally possess. In fact, as they performed, I almost forgot that they had aged at all.

And, I gotta say, I felt I had already gotten my money's worth about 4 songs in, when they performed I'm Still In Love With You. That, you might be surprised to know, is one of my all-time favorite New Edition songs. The exchange of lyrics between Ralph and Ricky was as perfect onstage as it is on the recorded track.

If you thought they would only perform New Edition songs, you would have been mistaken. Ricky, Mike, and Ronnie brought the house down with renditions of Do Me and Poison. Johnny did his My, My, My and Rub You the Right Way. And Ralph did Sensitivity and a wonderful rendition of Do What I Gotta Do. It was great to see all five guys remain on stage the entire time, with Ricky, Mike, and Ronnie lending background vocals to Ralph and Johnny's solo efforts and Ralph and Johnny joining background vocals during the BBD hits. That was wonderful to see.

Before I forget, I have to single out Ronnie. Back in the day, I always thought he was the best dancer in the group. Last Friday, he proved he still is. He can definitely dance! I love to watch him. Especially on If It Isn't Love.

Ya love her?...WHAT?

Their fans are obviously die-hard. The entire theatre sang along to almost every song. I gotta think that's both irritating and endearing to them. Some of us even did some of the dance routines, most notably on If It Isn't Love and With You All the Way.

Even DC stood up the entire time and sang along. I had no idea he was such a fan. Afterward, he and I had a discussion about teaching the younger generation about NE, since he had brought what I assume were his two sons (but I could be mistaken) to the concert. I had the notion to take my 8-year-old daughter, since she likes New Edition too. But then we decided to get front-row seats, and I wasn't going to pay $90 for another ticket (DC has it like that...I don't). Besides, they didn't even perform Delicious, which is her favorite NE song.

In all, though, I would definitely recommend that if a New Edition concert comes to your town you should catch it.

Ha! Get it? Like the Catch the Wave promotion they once did for Coca-Cola back in the day! (Catch it, catch it, whew!) What, you don't remember that? Hmmph! And you call yourselves New Edition fans.

-e

I've Been Tagged!

Well, my girl Felicia tagged me a couple weeks ago, so I figure it's about time I posted these ten things about me:

1. I'm a rebel, through and through.
2. I love to play devil's advocate. I'll argue with anyone...even if I agree with their position.
3. I'm a hopeless insomniac. I'm usually up until 3 or 4am.
4. Sci-Fi: I absolutely LOVE it!
5. Football and basketball are stress-relievers for me (usually!), and I know more about both games than most of the men I know.
6. I'm a very private person.
7. People who can't think for themselves aggravate me.
8. I love most animals.
9. I despise all insects.
10. Horror movies give me nightmares, so I don't watch them. (Vampire movies, however, are not included in this.)

So there you have it! And now...

Angie, Tiffany, Kemula, Torrie, Shoney...you have been tagged.

The Way the Basketball Bounces

Just so you know, I am NOT happy about the Phoenix Suns losing Game 5 to the San Antonio Spurs.

I know, I know. You're thinking, "But Ericka, you're from Texas. Shouldn't you get behind the team from your home state?"

Uh...no.

First of all, I'm from El Paso, NOT San Antonio. Since El Paso has no professional sports teams, it's pretty neutral in that respect. Except for football. 'Cause they love them some Cowboys. But, I'm a non-conformist anyway, so the Raiders have been my team since I was four years old.

But I digress.

For the record, Phoenix is closer to El Paso than San Antonio. So there! LOL. Okay, so that's not the ONLY reason. Let's just say I've enjoyed watching the Suns play since the Kevin Johnson days. And the current group, led by Steve Nash and punctuated by Amare Stoudamire, is just as fun to watch.

On the other hand, I've NEVER particularly liked the Spurs. (Kinda strange, don't you think? Especially since they share team colors with my beloved Raiders.) I always thought David Robinson whined a little too much for my taste, as does his protegé Tim Duncan. I don't think either of them feels they've ever really committed a foul in their lives.

So, it should come as no surprise to anyone that I was less than thrilled about the Stoudamire and Diaw suspensions. For those of you who missed it, after Robert Horry was called for an obviously flagrant (though not as terrible as it looked) foul on Steve Nash at the end of Game 4, Stoudamire and Diaw each took one step onto the court. Now, the NBA has this assanine rule that if any player comes off the bench during an altercation, they are automatically suspended for a game regardless of the circumstances. Most people, myself included, believe the league should have been flexible in this situation. After all, Horry was the one who committed the foul against their franshise guy, their MVP, their perennial All-Star. And yet, the NBA decided to punish the victim in this case by suspending both Stoudamire and Diaw for Game 5. But, so they don't look like they're completely biased, they suspended Horry, who's not a starter anyway, for two games.

I have always liked Horry, and what he did in Game 4 doesn't change that. Anyway, I don't believe Horry's intent was to harm Nash. I think he just didn't want Nash to blow by him, and, being old and slow and knowing he couldn't get over to grab him, he just reached out to bump him. The Spurs had been getting away with that kind of contact all series, so why would Horry think he was being excessive? Nash is a líttle guy (and a bit of a thespian), so he went flying into the scorer's table. He wasn't hurt. I mean, come on. The guy took a head butt to the nose from Tony Parker earlier in the series and barely even winced.

I've got to interject here, because that was a whole lot of foolishness too. I mean, have you seen the size of Tony Parker's head? Nash definitely took the worst of that collision. And yet it was Parker, true to Spurs form, who curled up into a fetal position on the court for a good five minutes. I was thinking: Oh come on! Man up! Your fiancée's in the building...have some pride man! After lying there forever like a little child, he was able to get up (sniff! sniff! poor baby!) and finish the game. Meanwhile, Nash couldn't even get back into that game because he was bleeding like slaughtered hog. But you didn't see him crying like an infant!

Okay, now that I've gotten that out, I feel much better.

So, anyway, I didn't think Horry deserved to get thrown out of that game. Was the foul flagrant? Clearly it was. But I don't think it was worthy of ejection. It wasn't even worth a one-game suspension, let alone two.

Stoudamire's and Diaw's transgression was definitely not worthy of a one-game suspension. David Stern said that the rule is clear and they had to be suspended.

What a load of crap!

Especially since the referees' loose interpretation of the rule book is what's gotten this series to be this physical. Last I checked every other rule seems to be subject to someone's discretion. The rule is clear on what a foul is, unless you're an all star or known for your defensive prowess or it's a playoff game (cause everybody knows they don't call fouls the same in the second season). And I'm almost sure that there's a direct correlation between how long a guy stays on the floor writhing in pain and whether a foul is called flagrant. Then Stephen Jackson gets ejected for clapping. Clapping! Last time I checked, there was no rule against clapping in basketball.

Stu Jackson, the league's enforcer, says the NBA didn't want to influence the outcome of the series, but they had no choice. There's always a choice, Mr. Jackson. Besides, we all know that David Stern, the NBA Commissioner, has a crush on Tim Duncan. I mean, have you ever seen the league suspend a ref, especially one who's been with the league as long as Joey Crawford, for wrongfully ejecting a player? Refs have tossed guys before for idiotic stuff, like laughing, clapping (as mentioned above), and staring. I've never seen them get suspended for it.

The Suns lost Game 5 without Stoudamire and Diaw, although they gave it all they had. They showed a lot of heart, and could have won the game. But, because their backups had to play extended minutes, they ran out of gas in the last few minutes. Without Stoudamire, the shot blocker, the Spurs were able to penetrate the paint at will. And, without Stoudamire, Duncan was able to rotate over and stop Nash's penetration.

Hopefully, with Stoudamire and Diaw back, the Suns will claim Games 6 and 7. Especially now that Amare is rested, he should come back with fresh legs. Game 6 should be a dunkfest for him. I hope.

If not, then the loud thud you hear, Mr. Stern and Mr. Jackson, will be the sound of Western Conference Finals ratings crashing to the ground. 'Cause not too many people will want to see a San Antonio-Utah series. And you'll have nobody to blame but yourselves.

Maybe That Jackass Should Have Acted More Like a Mule

Since people keep asking me to opine on the Imus situation, I will now gladly oblige.

For the first few days after Don Imus went on his now-famous rant about the Rutgers women's basketball team, I was on the fence about it. I am not anymore. After having time to sort through not only what he said then, but also what he's said since and my own feelings, my stance is surprising even to me, which is why I'm not in favor of knee-jerk reactions in the first place.

Just so you know, I was exposed to Imus at an early age, and I've long since thought of him as a racist jackass. That is why I don't listen to him. I think his show caters to the lowest common denominator of society.

And that is why I don't think the man should be fired. In fact, I don't think he should have been disciplined at all for his statement.

What? How the hell can you say that?

Well...it ain't easy. In fact, I'm doubled over as we speak, feeling the same internal pain I felt when I once had to defend Ron Artest and Terrell Owens (neither of whom I consider to have a grain of common sense) within the same week.

Now, don't get it twisted. I am NOT defending Don Imus. It's just that I am against censorship. Period. People like Imus are the price we pay for allowing free speech. Don Imus and his idiot sidekick Sid Rosenberg have just as much right to express their opinions on their radio show as I do in this blog. If you don't like what they have to say, don't listen to it. If you don't like what I have to say, don't read it. It's that simple.

The fact of the matter is that he was hired to be controversial. Being a jackass is his job. I don't think it's fair to fire the man because he excels at it. I mean, you wouldn't fire your hairdresser for making you too fierce, now would you? Come on. What those jerks said, though extremely ignorant and in very poor taste, did not violate any laws or FCC regulations. All he did is what he gets paid to do. And now, because he offended the right people, he's everywhere. There are more people talking about him now, many of whom didn't even know who he was a week ago. I'd say that's a shock jock at his best.

But weren't you offended by the use of the words "nappy" and "hoes"?

Well, as an African-American woman, I have to admit it bothered me a little for about three seconds. Then, I considered the source, and I've been fine with it ever since. What does a man like Imus know about beauty? Have you seen him? He's about 200 years old and looks like that creepy, old, crotchety guy who lives in the haunted house across the street in all the horror films. He doesn't even fit his own narrow-minded European view of beauty. And it wouldn't surprise me if the only women who can stand to be around him are those he pays. I'm sure women are synonymous with garden tools in his world.

What does anger me is his apology. I don't know what it is about Americans and their need to hear apologies. Especially when they are hollow. Just as Michael Richards, Mel Gibson, and even Jesse Jackson before him, Imus and Rosenbutthead said exactly what they felt at the time. And they meant every word. Had there never been a backlash as a result of these comments, they would never have been moved to issue an apology. I would actually have liked for them to just come out and say, "We said what we meant, and we don't think there's anything wrong with what we said." That act of stubborn defiance would have garnered at least a little respect from me. Instead, Imus opted to issue a meaningless apology for anyone he offended. Is he serious? His radio show has been offending people since it's been on the air! Am I really to believe that now, in this instance, he regrets what he said? Puh-leeze! Does he really think Americans are that stupid? Okay, so maybe we are. Because in a couple of months, I'm sure the public will have other things on its collective mind.

I knew Larry Birkhead was father from the beginning!
Oh, wait...must...focus...on...current...issue.
Meaningless news stories, the ultimate distraction.

And, I'm sorry if I offend anyone, but I must speak on Revs. Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson. 'Cause I don't understand why Sharpton even wanted Imus to come on his show. That was a farce. Why did he invite him if he wasn't going to let the man talk? He had already made up his mind to insert himself into the situation and was calling for the man's head on a platter. Having Imus on his show made no sense. And then I see Jesse Jackson on the Today show talking about how they should fire Imus. Yes, folks, you read that correctly. Jesse Jackson said that Imus should lose his job for making racist comments. If that isn't the epitome of the cast-iron skillet calling the kettle black, then I just don't know what is. Let me get this right. When Jesse offended the Jews, he also made an obligatory apology and felt he should be forgiven. I was so glad when Ann Curry asked him how he figures this is any different. His ridiculous response doesn't even warrant comment.

Why is it that every time there's controversy that needs an African-American "perspective", the news media instantly runs to the usual supects? Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton. We already know how they both feel on every issue: we must grab our picket signs and pitch forks and make sure are demands are met! The problem is, they are demanding the wrong things. Why can't the Today show solicit commentary from fresh voices? Tavis Smiley comes to mind, as well as Michael Eric Dyson. I'd suggest Cornel West, too, but only if you've got a good dictionary handy. These brothas understand what the real issues are. They understand that the Imus's and Rosenberg's of the world are only a symptom of the underlying problem. And, folks, the problem is systemic. Severing an extremity won't cure the pervasive disease.

So what if Imus loses his job? That won't help me and my contemporary African Americans. That won't affect our lives one bit, since nobody I know listens to him anyway.

And while we're focusing on this madness, our county is still at war and genocide continues in the Darfur region of the Sudan.

Love & Basketball

It's that time of year again when young men's fancies turn to... basketball. The Big Dance. The Sweet Sixteen. The Elite Eight. The Final Four. The agony. The ecstasy. How can anyone NOT adore the season? The NBA playoffs are in sight, and teams are gearing up for that final push, not only to reach them, but also to solidify their seedings. Basketball, I always say, is one of my favorite of the three seasons. (Yes, three. Football, Basketball, and Off. Didn't they teach you anything in school? Geez!)

What I don't quite understand is why there aren't more female fans of the game. I mean, what's not to like? Physically fit men running up and down the court getting themselves sweaty. Come on, ladies. Is there anything sexier than the sight of Alonzo Mourning all lathered up with perspiration after his fourth block of the night? It's a beautiful thing, I tell you.

I'm not saying ladies should watch only to see fine men. There's also the strategic aspect of the game to which we should be attracted. We, the females of the species, are a cunning and conniving bunch. (Hey, don't hate me 'cuz I told the truth.) I would think that any game that involves strategy, as well as skill, would rate high for us. I mean, you could watch a ballet and see muscular men prance around, but I'll bet the end of Swan Lake can't get your adrenaline pumping the way a good, close, overtime battle can.

It's not just ladies that need to give the game a chance, either. I've met men who know little or nothing about sports. This is a real turn-off for me, because I watch sports regularly. I'm the one you do not call on Football Sunday, unless there's an emergency. And even then, it had better be halftime. Same with basketball.

Believe it or not, I put a guy I was dating out of my apartment twice for bugging me during the game. I remember it like it was yesterday. The year was nineteen-hundred and ninety-five...LOL

Okay, I'll spare you the sitcom-like flashback. But let's just say I tried to give the man a chance.

He insisted on coming over and watching a Monday Night Football game with me. I cautioned him against this because I can get pretty riled up watching football. I don't even remember who was playing. What I do remember is that after the first touchdown and PAT, as the broadcast cut away to a commercial and flashed the score on the screen, I heard...

"Ooh, they got that score wrong. They said seven points, but they only scored one touchdown."

I just looked at that dude in disbelief. He was so proud of himself, too. He thought he was making intelligent commentary. Poor, dumb soul.

I calmly explained that touchdowns are worth six points each, and the extra point kick added another. Then I put his butt out of my apartment before the commercial break was over.

He later explained that he didn't know much about football. (Naw, really?! You don't say!) Basketball, he claimed, was really his game. I am apparently a glutton for punishment, because, when the NBA season began a couple of months later, I allowed him to come over and watch a game with me.

So, I was coaching and helping the refs out, as I always do, and listening to make sure he actually knew the game. The ball went through the hoop.

"That's two!", he exclaimed. I breathed a sigh of relief. Hallelujah!, I thought. He knows how scoring works in this game. This won't be so bad after all.

A few minutes later, I hopped up and yelled toward the television. "Illegal defense, Ref!"

Just then, the whistle blew...the ref had seen it too. (Remember, this was back in '95... long before the rules changed.) Yes!

"What's an illegal defense?" ol' boy asked with interest.

Alright. Don't panic. It's an advanced concept. Maybe he's a fan of the college game and doesn't know NBA rules.

"You gotta play man-to-man in the NBA. It's not like the college game where you can play zone defense," I calmly explained.

"What's a zone defense?"

What the...? I was trying to enjoy the game, not teach Basic Basketball 101. So I put his butt out of my apartment.

Needless to say, that relationship did NOT last.

Now, I'm not suggesting that sports knowledge should be the cornerstone of everyone's criteria for a mate. But it doesn't hurt.

I can tell you're not convinced yet. So don't take my word for it. Turn on a good game, settle in, and enjoy the competition of it. You'll get sucked into it. You'll develop a love for the game--whatever the game--as I have. Then, you'll expect the same devotion to your sport of choice.

~e