"BLICK"

I've a good friend in Pittsburgh who can tell an ethnic joke like no other.

My buddah-like friend is extremely bright and one look at him suggests he probably is not of Minnesota nordic descent.

One of his favorite jokes has to do with two Rabbis who are looking for a truly black suit. They shop several places in the pursuit of the "ultimate blick" suit befitting their vocation.

To try and retell the joke here would be an enormous mistake and insult as it requires my friends vocal inspiration.

Dick, who is not a practicing Jew but, who has ancestors not that far away in the Middle East, has never been criticised for his joketelling at the expense of the rabinical duo.

Why? The joke is funny and was never meant to have been- nor interpreted- as an assault on another ethnic group.

Now, if we can just convince USA writer/columnist DeWayne Wickham that everything involving a dispute between a black person and anyone from another race is not an attack on all Afro-Americans.

Of course, one assumes (with prejudice, of course) Mr. Wickham would be reluctant to do so.

Should he ever accept a more mannered and reasonable writing style, the editorial folks at USA Today would not receive the number of critical letters they do following the release of his latest self annointed defense of anything "black." (but, not blick).

Why is it so difficult for so many people apparently bereft of any sense of reason to seek a common ground that is palatable- yet not patronizing?

Look, I'm not going to go into the old white guy rationalization.

That's the one we "Whities" used to employ: "I'm not prejudiced against "people of color". (pick your favorite associative politically correct term here).

"And, if you doubt me, then come over to my house and see my huge collection of music by Nat King Cole, Ella, Sassy, & the Duke."

Perhaps, I could double my innocence defense by sharing that I was also a big fan of black (and gay) author James Baldwin.

Recently, I was pleased to read about more signs of assimilation of blacks -a shrinking minority group - into a society that was once dictated by whites.

Of course, my black media critics would probably accuse me of favoring any solution wherein blacks have to "become more white" and indicates my disrespect for the expression "black is beautiful."

I don't know if I'm allowed to speak of this while residing in a section of our country that still has more than our share of bigots.

That observation is based on their use of words like "colored" and much more demeaning terms to describe an entire race.

Wickham seems to conclude that the recent run-in between Arizona Governor Jan Brewer and President Obama on a tarmac in Arizona took place only because our President is black.

Anybody who is white, black or whatever, and who has taken the time to dispassionately follow some of Brewer's remarks and actions might reasonably conclude:"No, sorry DeWayne, Brewer will probably do the same with St. Peter on that last great day should he choose to disagree with her".

I'm sure Wickhams response to the last remark would be,"However, lacking any photos of St.Peter,admittedly we cannot be sure he is not black, as well."

So, we have a white Governor who is sure she has been dissed and a black President who allegedly felt similarly.

Per Wickham, Brewer may have been most angered by "Obama's calm demeanor", "his wry smile" as well as his decision to "walk away from her in mid-sentence".

So, let's see: "The Governor is a bigot - and the President is a male chauvanist?"

There is an old joke about a psychiatrist and her male patient who is alleged to be a sex addict.

The doctor proceeds to show her patient various innocent photos to which he is required to interpret their meaning.After each viewing, the patient describes the picture as having a sexual connection.

Finally, in frustration, the doctor says, "How can you possibly see nothing but sex in all of these photos?"

The patient replies, "Hey Doc, you're the one who keeps showing me all the dirty pictures!"

Apparently, it's all in the interpretation, folks.

We have made a serious amount of progress in the area of racial tensions - but, admittedly have a long way to go - and not just in the south.

But, having certain media personnel - both male and female -persist in reading anti-black prejudice into any and every disagreement between folks; it's going to take a long time to get to the next level.

Me? I'm going to stick to laughing at Dick's retelling of the "blick" joke.

And, I'm not prejudiced against rabbi's either.

You should see my collection of books by Rabbi Chaim Potok.

"Idol" thoughts!

Can't believe that there was a time when my fear was the possibility that a lack of information might keep me from writing blogs. Here are some reasons why my fear was misplaced.
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We continue to worry about the inconsistency of what comes out of our candidates mouth.Thomas Jefferson called slavery an "abominable crime".Yet he owned 600 slaves during his lifetime and provided for the emancipation of only 7 upon his death in 1826."
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For those old geezers out there who insist on marrying a much younger woman:

A recent study revealed,"As seniors, the answer to the question of their equally aging spouse,'Not in the mood dear?' should not be one of discouragement.

A majority of women reported sexual satisfaction increases with age - and arousal and orgasms are frequent, despite having low sexual desire - and sexual participation which decreased as they aged.

But, here's the kicker," Almost half (47.5%) of the oldest women reported sexual satisfaction almost always or always. The youngest women reported being very satisfied less frequently (33.5%).

Now, there is so much unsaid in the conclusions, but, you old guys may have found a great ice breaker at the next community Potluck Dinner.So many lines to deliver - so little time!
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Journalism - both good and bad - continues to be featured in the news by our politicians. Occasionally the subject of "muckrakers"
arises.

The term - coined by Bunyan (John not Paul) in "Pilgrim's Progress" became the byword of Progressive politician Theodore Roosevelt in his encouragement of what he saw as real investigative reporting.

So many of these journalists, Nellie Bly, Julius Chambers, Lincoln Steffens, and the always tantalyzing Ida M. Tarbell, did their thing to expose industrial wrongdoing.

Even Pittsburgh's own Ray Springle, a white reporter and Pulitzer Prize winner, who in the 40's applied skin coloring makeup, and sent back letters from the south describing his experiences as he represented himself as a negro was a valuable contributor.

Hopefully, "muckraking" will again become popular.Maybe we're ready for more Erin Brockavich's.

A recent article by columnist George Zornick in The Nation exposes the impending proposed settlement between the government and the Big Banks, and will be addressed in more depth down the road.

Heaven knows we have more information available - more informed sources - and Freedom of Information privileges than were available to those investigative journalists of the early 19th century.

Let China have "The Year Of The Dragon" and us "The "Year of The Muckraker."

That would be as opposed to the plentitude of yellow journalism we are witnessing on TV ads, the radio, the print media, the so-called political debates. This latter term applies to folks who were and are more interested in increasing circulation through articles devoted to scandal, crime, entertainment and sensationalism.

Who was it who said "the more things change - the more they remain the same?"

My first exposure to the "yellow "term came with delivering "The Pittsburgh Sun Telegraph" one of William Randolph Hearst's news properties.I tried to get people to add it to their Pittsburgh Press subscription and soon heard about the "yellow journalism" of the old 'Sun Telly".

It has been stated that Hearst, the well established yellow journalist - did a better job of building castles and getting popular movie stars into the sack than he did to making any valuable contribution to meaningful journalism.

We have gone through several changes in both the media and the staples of Hollywood productions.

Those of us who have been around long enough, know that there are only so many cities, bridges, and cars one can blow up via special effects in an attempt to camaflouge the absence of any meaningful plot or serious acting.

Likewise, there are only so many interesting places on the body an aspiring vampire can locate and choose to nibble.The latter observation also applies to porn.

Not much has or will change down the road - regardless of the number of increased breast enhancements - full frontal nudity - Viagra prescriptions and that which was wrongfully assumed to be the anonyimity of the Internet.

Hopefully, the really good, well-constructed movies: Hugo, The Help, The Descendants, The Artist, and Albert Nobbs will increase in number and people will again start to fill up the movie theatres.

But, Lord help us if actress Glenn Close in her many diverse movie roles later reveals she's also a Zombie.
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Finally, back to sex. After an exhaustive study recently completed by a team of German scientists, they concluded that they could not locate the apparently mythical "G Spot."

In a separate release, the scientist's wives unanimously agreed.
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Have a great weekend.

DON'T PANIC ABOUT THAT WIND

To all of you In Pennsylvania who are experiencing the sudden gust of wind - DO NOT PANIC!

It is just the reaction of the news media to the announcement of Joe Paterno's death this week.

It's called " back pedalling" and is temporary, at best. That is those members of the media who raced to turn the Sandusky affair into the Paterno affair.

It is not exclusive to the media, however.

It also includes the many politicians in Pa. who stood united in their criticism of what they saw as Paterno's inaction.

They criticized him for not going the extra mile(But, Lordy, Lordy surely not the "second mile"). Upon hearing the news of his demise they immediately suggested all flags in Pennsylvania should hang at half mast.

Hey, better to do it with flags than old Italian football coaches.

The guilty also include the Board of Regents (whatever the hell that is) who are the ones now in a panic. Big decisions to be made here after their impersonal use of a terse phone call in firing their head coach with the 409 wins.

"What to do?", they ask themself as they search for any leader amongst them who might possibly possess an ounce of common sense?

Another statue? If so, obviously it will not be one with a child sitting on his knee.

And, that's a shame - because it would have meant that by doing so this guy who turned a lot of children into men (the right way) during his many years at the helm of his football team might possibly erase the latent image of the man the Regents left by their kneejerk reaction in mis-addressing the whole mess.

And, make no mistake - it was His football team.

It seems the current rage - closely attached to the tail winds Pennsylvania and the country as a whole are experiencing - is to solicit signatures on-line to change the name of the football stadium from "Beaver" to "Paterno".

Interesting switch. One builds dams for a living - the other made damn sure his "extended family of children" graduated and ironically understood that there was more to life than just football.

The eulogies continue. Perhaps only Gene Collier, a Pittsburgh Post Gazette sports writer and a frequent Paterno critic, did the best job of summing things up - by honoring him for just being the man he was - with flaws like all of us. I agree.

An excerpt from the eulogy in the USA Today was typical of the naysayers:

"Time and multiple investigations, will tell whether Paterno was as naive as he portrayed himself in his last interview (with Sally Jenkins of The Washington Post) in which he said he was unfamiliar with male rape and past accusations against Sandusky."

Perhaps Paterno was too busy with that famous nose of his stuck deep in a playbook or perhaps a novel titled "The Best of Shelly, Keats, and Byron" to have paused from his reading, wander over to the TV and watch a few moments of the movie "Deliverance", or maybe switch to an Elmore Leonard mystery.

Not sure which is worse; those who followed poet Alexander Pope's use of the expression "damn him with faint praise" or those who now suddenly turn as if caught in a whirlwind and back pedal quickly as they go full speed into a cover up attempt.

It is the latter group whose pictures can be found in the latest edition of Websters under the definition of "obsequious" or perhaps, "sycophant".

Regardless, it's hard to believe Joe wasn't ready to go. His rapid descent both reputation wise and healthwise were contrary to the way he lived and all that he seemingly represented.

To have the kind of serious surgeries he had during the past two to three years - and keep coming back- were more of what you had come to expect of the guy from Brooklyn - who also occasionally spouted poetry.

Perhaps Joe Paterno, the reader, simply opted to follow the tenets of the Serenity Prayer that preaches (in various formats): God grant me the courage to change what I can change - the serenity to accept what I cannot - and the wisdom to know the difference."

Therefore, the question I kept asking myself upon hearing of his sudden death was, "Did Joe win 409 or 410?"

Maybe time and those investigations to which USA Today referred will someday provide us with that answer as well.

IT IS A CURSE!

While friend Harry (http://harry2335blogspot.com/) continues to excoriate the Republicans with his funny blogs; I am far busier with much more important challenges.

The word is SPAM - and it rhymes with SLAM.

I'm being "slammed" with all these tempting offers I continue to receive via my SPAM folder. It's like trying to get a parking space on Saturday at Walmart anywhere close to the door leading to the "barrels of Pinto beans" section.

I'm also a little concerned as to what kind of "cookies" I must be leaving in my computer wake.

"And, 'folk' we ain't talking about the pumpkin chocolate-chip ones my wife made over the holidays that have all the neighbors raving."

Which reminds me. Speaking of holidays, let me digress for a moment.

You wouldn't search for Easter Baskets and that purplish green grass in October - right? Admit it, you're probably not even frantically seeking chocolate Easter bunnies to eat the ears off in the winter months.

And, it's doubtful that you're looking for that exactly perfect Christmas tree to haul home in July before cutting off about 3 feet at the bottom so it fits in your gameroom.

We don't do this for a very logical reason. Each of the above purchases has their own special time and place.

You don't buy Easter baskets in October nor Christmas trees in July - even if you own a wholesale business located in the Lower Hill or the Strip Section of Pittsburgh and have a warehouse the size of Romney's safe.

This I understand. What I don't understand is why Eggnog has to disappear from the dairy shelves each year by about January 6.

Do people not enjoy this tantalizing beverage anytime before the week preceding Thanksgiving until the week following New Years?

What about the Albanians or whatever ethnic group out there who chooses to celebrate Christmas on a later date. Why should they be deprived of their Eggnog privileges or "a little toddy for the body"? I know some Albanians who can go at it pretty good.

I'd just like to say, "Hey man! Can't you keep some around for whatever strange type of New Year the Chinese are celebrating? Who knows if this year isn't 'The Year Of The Nog', or 'The Year of the HDL?"

Please think about this miscarriage of justice as I continue to wrestle with my SPAM options.

The reason I have an overwhelming amount of SPAM is because I don't have the nerve to adjust the spam controls to the '100% refusal' option.

I'm always afraid someone -or some company- with whom I may now be dealing, would not be able to reach me if I opted to block all SPAM and they're not yet part of my address book. Where would those e-mails go advising me for the thirtieth time what my password is?

Thus, here's my dilemma. Before deleting, how can I possibly make a well informed choice out of all the options my SPAM folder offers me? I admit, I'm a sucker for a bargain. Please help me out with my dilemma:

1.Should I be worried about the number of Christian singles out in the Bradenton, Fla. area who are apparently desperately seeking my company?

2.Should I opt to inquire further and satisy my curiosity, is there really any need for me to also check out the many offers I'm receiving to obtain unlimited expansion of my penis? Is this something that is important to Christian singles?

3.Another thing. How concerned should I be by the identity of people who allegedly have been inquiring about me or who constantly insist on changing my credit score?

There could definitely be a downside in the first instance.

At my age, do I really want to find out that there is an heir out there about whom I have no knowledge? Why would some transitory female from the Truman administration have opted to keep me in the dark until now regarding this potential knowledge?

4.Should I really be concerning myself about starting a 401K at a time when I'm assured I should have started withdrawing years ago?

5.Why are so many SPAM people in my list insisting that I take all of these free gift certificates? Is it like that movie where the guy has to give away a million dollars a day in order to retain his inheritance?

6.Finally, and this pops up a lot, do I really want to acquire more information as to how I can spy on my kids? Hell, I still can't figure out how to turn on Oovoo and look upon them from the security of my laptop?

I could go on and on (and usually do) but, I'm sure you can commiserate with the difficult decisions I'm facing.

However, I do worry about all those Christian Singles pining away because they do not know how to get in touch with me.

(I just looked at my full body image in the bedroom mirror and - it's truly "a curse"!)

So many options - so little time.

OTHERWISE A MODEL OF GOOD BEHAVIOR

I apologize for some repeat comments that follow.

A friend of mine sent along a press release recently about something that took place in Bloomsburg, a rural Central Pennsylvania community to which I had been "promoted'" in the mid-eighties.

It reads as follows:

Bloomsburg, Pa -"A Pennsylvania man who admitted having sex with 10 horses and a cow must spend a weekend in jail after having his probation revoked because he told a counselor 'I done it again'
(ed).

Prosecutors said 44 year old Paul Ganter was nearly finished with court supervision when he was ordered Tuesday by a Columbia County judge to serve time instead.

Ganter was sentenced to a year of probation last January when he pleaded guilty to disorderly conduct. The Press Enterprise of Bloomsburg reports Ganter was charged after having sex with the animals and filming some of the activity at a farm in Main Township.

Probation officials say Ganter was "otherwise a model of good behavior", paying fines and meeting his probation officer as scheduled.

A phone message to Ganter's attorney wasn't immediately returned Wednesday."

I'm going to repeat some of my previous blog comments about living and working in the area only for the purpose of trying to explain (but definitely not accept) what to most of us is viewed as aberrant behavior.

Here I'm referencing (once more) 'The Jerry Sandusky Affair' ("Soon to be playing in a neighborhood theatre near you.") and some local Central Pennsylvania culture.

I have written a few times about my personal shock in 1986 after leaving Pittsburgh when confronted by the Bloomsburg store with a large hanging sign proclaiming it to be "Eudora's Corset Shop."

My immediatge reaction was to question whether or not I truly had been promoted to the area, or shifted like a New York City cop whose new assignment was checking parking meters in "Faraway Rockaway".

Being the new guy in town, one of the Bloomsburg insurance claim representatives I supervised volunteered to take me on a tour of a neighborhood community - so "I could become accustomed to the area."

When we returned to the office after a long ride he came back from his desk - closed the door to my rear office - sat down and asked me for any observations I may have made during our trip.

I hesitated as I felt was necessary. I had been cautioned to demonstrate in my new supervisory role that I was indeed politically correct,long before the term became fashionable.

A former boss had even forewarned me that the difference between Bloomsburg and Penicillin was that the latter was cultured.

Becoming impatient by the absence of my response, my new colleague continued with his probe - which apparently was a local custom in the area.

Finally, in exasperation, I expressed my observation that the residents of the town just down the road from our office appeared sightly backward. I added they were never in any danger of being confused with the bulk of the population in Pittsburgh.

Not being too bright, I did this in spite of being repeatedly warned never to say, "Well, this isn't the way we did things back in Pittsburgh."

The C/R smiled and said, "OK, you saw some pretty homely people - right?"

I nodded. He proceeded to explain the reason for the lack of Miss America talent, at least as he professed to know based upon being a semi-native.

"This is your first visit to our area and I wanted you to get some idea of the difference between the people you will be dealing with as customers here versus those you may have previously serviced or supervised back in Pittsburgh."

He continued his explanaation, "An extreme amount of intermarriage within the same families is responsible for the results you observed. You might even say it's a custom that is inbred." (pun intended).

He then smiled, left me with my mouth hanging open, and quietly closed the door as he headed back to what was no doubt a hurriedly organized men's room conversation with his co-workers.

I never forgot that discussion, even after meeting several really great folks in the area who had not succumbed to the attraction of "sticking with those you know".

This was just one of the many lessons I learned while assigned to the area. I had a similar "culture" experience when moving to a rental home in another rural area close to Wilkes-Barre, Pa.

I observed the moving process into my rental was proceeding extremely slow. So,I went down to the local 7/11 to pick up sodas's and sandwiches for the movers.I figured the caffeine in the drinks might encourage them to work with a little more enthusiasm and vigor based upon my act of hospitality.

Before I could check out of the store, the cashier/clerk proceeded to put me through a third degree that would have made Kyra Sedgwick's Deputy Chief Johnson extremely proud.

I wondered if this bombardment of questions was part of a local hazing. They were starting to sound like a well practiced ruse, much more than a "need to know" question and answer session, or even an over zealous Welcome Wagon representative..

And then it happened. The clerk proudly proceeded to tell me: the new location and address where I was living, the name of my landlord, why I was in the area, the length of my lease and the identity and location of my employer.

At first, I thought perhaps I had discovered rural Pennsyvania's own version of "The Amazing Kreskin". Later, I realized, actually, it was pretty much business as usual for any newcomer to the region.
.
Despite that I can recall hurrying out of that store - perhaps leaving some of my purchases behind- as I recalled specific scenes from the movie "Deliverance."

There's a reason I go through all of this "local" history.

It has much to do with my prior blog comments regarding how so many of the Central PA.citizens reacted to the Sandusky matter. Those blogs also covered how the citizens were so quick in their defense of Penn State University and Joe Paterno's actions - or lack thereof.

It has been my experience in my travels to observe that many folks, upon moving into a new environment, unconsciously adopt some of the speech patterns and actions of the natives - or almost natives - despite still mispronouncing the names of most of the local towns and rivers.

Even as a new Floridian I realized it is not unusual to find yourself slowing down both your own speech patterns and your movements - and, of course, forgetting to use your turn signals.

I used to laugh at a former friend from Pittsburgh who,after residing in Jacksonville, Fla, for less than 6 months, quickly adopted the "you-all" affect in almost every other sentence.

In review: As before, I can find no defense for anybody protecting someone whom they genuinely believed - or even suspected - was the perpetrator of the pedophilia for which Sandusky is accused.

But, I can understand why this alleged vile offense could be curiously overlooked by some in deeply rural sections of Central Pennsylvania, much to the chagrin of the "big city" media - who have conveniently forgotten their own small town roots and customs.

In some strange distorted way, it might be as easy to understand the response of Central Pa folks as we were apparently willing to "understand" the actions of many of the so-called sophisticated folks in Chicago when they concluded that an Illinois Governor attempting to sell a Senate seat was just "politics as usual."

The above sentence reflects no attempt here to compare one action with the other - just to make an observation as to the creative rationalizations that take place in almost every area of our country.

There is an old story about a rural man who was caught having sexual intercourse with a sheep. He sought legal representation from a local attorney and friend.

The friend opted not to represent him. However,he did recommend two top notch local attorneys. One of them was good but very expensive. The accused chose the other attorney who, while not as sophisticated, was cheaper and reputed to have great success in picking juries.

When the voir dire was completed - jury selected - and trial begun -the accused was eventually put on the stand by his counsel.

The attorney asked him what could have compelled him to attempt to do what he did. The client said, "Well, as I was backing up to her, all quiet like, she turned and planted a big kiss right on my mouth."

One juror turned to the guy beside him and whispered, "You know, if you get a good one, they'll do that sometimes."

The accused was acquitted by the jury, presumably because he also was "otherwise a model of good behavior."

I believe it's important to understand that a reaction to the alleged commission of a heinous act may be one based on acclimation rather than affirmation.

TRY AS I MAY

Try as I may, I'm still having problems with an internal promise I made to myself.

My dilemma has to do with the "Anti-Penn State" articles that continue to be printed day after nauseating day and my internal promise not to respond in this blog.

I made my own contribution in a previous blog with my vilification of the decisions made by the Penn State brass. I also criticised the overwhelming community support shown before, and after the accusations against Sandusky became public.

One assumes these were similar to those rendered by members of Bernie Madoff's family at the time the financial fecal matter hit the fan.

But, Penn State denials were a little different if you had spent any time in this extremely rural area of the state.

It reminded me a little of the story about a very unhappy committee member in a Kentucky political PAC group run by a rather aggressive and non-attractive husband and wife.

The critic, upon announcing his resignation, asked the unkind question, "If you two get divorced - will you still be brother and sister?".

I wouldn't go that far although my first blog may have suggested as much. I met lot's of good non-related people up there.

At first, I figured one explanation for their unswerving loyalty to Sandusky, Spanier, Paterno etc, was one of misplaced loyalty.

It was easy to assume that if you chose to live up there year round in the middle of nowhere you probably didn't have much else to stimulate your life than your commitment after you signed the "Penn State Football Pledge".

Of course, there was the annual State College Craft Fair, the excellent community playhouse down the road, and of course, the magnificient Toftrees resort with it's fantastic golf course.

Finally, my conclusion was that their reaction was just another of the predictable follow-up stages of grief.

Nowadays, we're faced with the other side of the coin - those who absolutely refuse to take any prisoners in their character assassinations of anyone tangentially involved with Penn State - either as a player, student, or vendor.

That presumably includes any of us who may have purchased the bread or meat sauce products endorsed by Paterno in his heyday and for which he donated all the monies received to the university.

Please understand. There is no intention here to wipe out or bury in the sand the deserved ramifications for those who "knew and said nothing."

However, this presumes the accusations are accurate - and that we will ever discover with reliability just who knew and did nothing.

There is a clause included in litigation - particularly involving legal accusations of various business entities - but also employed in the United States Navy sexual harassment suits a few years back.

It is called "knew or should have known"

It's a small clause, sometimes included in a boiler plate legal complaint, regardless of it's inappropriate insertion in the matter to be decided.

It speaks to reasonable and necessary behavior by people in charge.

In some strange way it's being invoked these days by almost any critic of Penn State who seemingly have now found their voice - and possibly couldn't get good game seats at Beaver Stadium.

It particularly has application to those who are denying the qualifications of any coach seeking to replace Joe Paterno if they had ever passed through the hallowed gates of State College - even by mistake (which is hard to do).

Having read the various sports articles about Penn State, written in heretofore thought-of-as responsibile sports publications, I find that the writers are playing hell with my rather sensitive gag reflex.

This happens most of the time when confronted by the irrational responses of the most ardent Penn State critic as I attempt to complete my Evelyn Wood perusal of the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette on- line sports columns.

I forget that some of these columns/blogs allow for the printing of the readers response to the opinion of the column's author - and that I've wandered too far into 'the Woods'.

My conclusion is, "there has to be one helluva lot of angry people out there in the sports fanatic world - who have never had a pause switch on either their mouth or typing hand."

I grew up during the irresponsible period of Joe McCarthy tactics".

I saw the careers of many talented and responsible members of the artistic community ruined by the accusations that almost anybody was willing to support in the guise of misplaced patriotism..

This phenomena is an interesting topic and one we'll pursue later in depth.

My failure to abide by my internal "try as I may" promise (above) is reflective of my growing concerns about the outrageous sputum from the mouths of the unconscious PSU critics.

There is always another side to an equation and one for which I apologize for enlisting now as I'm adding length to an already long blog.

It's one I'm starting to see slowly arise in an almost Phoenix fashion 'out of the ashes' to counter unfair commentary..

I observe the latter constantly as I review the media's abuse of the normal pendulum path of any topical subject as it moves along it's continuom.

Like any unfair critique, it's a view that refuses to consider the positive, particularly if it fails to support their allegation.

One such example of the latter bias is the Penn State IFC/Panhellenic Dance Marathon. (or THON as they call it)

A flyer I viewed recently, refers to it as a year long fund raising effort that culminates in February with a two-day no-sitting, no-sleeping dance marathon.

Yeah, I know. Similar to my own college fraternity days spent elsewhere, there will be critics coming out of the woodwork.

Some will conclude that up in Happy Valley it's probably just a bunch of loud naive kids dancing around wearing beer stained football sweatshirts that they never took off after their stand-in outside of Paterno's house.

Actually, it's about more than 350 Penn State student organizations with a mission to conquer childhood Cancer.

Last year they raised a record $9.56 million - 97% of which went directly to the Penn State Hershey Children's Hospital.(almost unheard of in any fundraising activity.)

Maybe you can excuse "dem kids" if a few of those dummies, while stumbling around the floor, occasionally pause to shout, "We Are Penn State!"(too).

They really are.

NEW YEAR DISCARDS

A friend from Pittsburgh was kind enough to praise my writing.

Honest, there are many other reasons I think of him as a friend - but, that will do for now.
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A guy who was apparently into nostalgia asked me recently, "Do you know the name of the female Borden's cow?"

My reply was, "Elsie"

He then inquired, "Okay, what was the name of her husband?"

I said, "Elmer, of course."

He thought for a minute and then asked, "Ever wonder why cows get married?"

I muttered something about "animal husbandry' and got away as quickly as possible.
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Some good E-mails to discard now and start anew:

"An elderly couple were taking a stroll when a bird flies past and relieves himself on the woman's head.

"Yech! cries the woman, "Quick get me some tissues."

"What for?", the man asks. "He must be half-a-mile away by now!"
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My granddaughter asked my wife what it was like to be old. My wife said, "Put cotton in your ears and pebbles in your shoes. Pull on rubber gloves. Smear vaseline over your glasses. And, there you have it: instant Old Age."
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"If the professor on Gilligan's Island can make a radio out of a coconut, why can't he fix a hole in a boat?"
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To my son, Michael: "Is there ever a day when mattresses are not on sale?"
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Doing some cleaning recently and paused to wonder, "How do those dead bugs get into those enclosed light fixtures?"
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Love the new vacuum cleaner we purchased up in Pittsburgh. But, again I wondered, "Why do we keep running over a string a dozen times with our vacuum cleaner, then reach down, pick it up, examine it, then put it down to give the vacumn one more chance?"
_______________________________________________

Finally, while reading the constantly changing poll results from Iowa, I wondered why we get so excited about the results.

During the NBA strike the polls constantly told us that a very large % of the people polled claimed to "care less" whether the matter was ever resolved - and the TV viewing numbers since the strike settled have never been higher."
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That's enough wondering for this old guy.

Happy New Year.