The Hodge Blog

7 YEAR OLD SIGNS PRO SOCCER CONTRACT. BY 15 HE'LL BE A...?

By Rick on August 11, 2011 4:02 PM | No TrackBacks

A lot of talk about that 7 year old kid from Argentina signing a professional soccer contract with Real Madrid. What the hell is a rug rat the size of an ewok doing going pro before he's lost all of his baby teeth? His name is Lionel Angel Coira. He's got game. Game good enough to have one of the top soccer franchises in the world get into his head before he started firing off headers for anyone else.

Impressed? Yes. Shocked? A little. Not as impressed or shocked at that 12 year old kid in the U-S who says he's getting close to disproving Einstein's Theory of Relativity. Both kids are prodigies. One kicks a ball the other is trying to reconfigure the cosmos. One of my kids showed me early on that he wasn't an embryonic Einstein (I saw his marks) or a budding Beckham. He spent most of his time on the pitch swatting mosquitoes.

There just seems to be something wrong about committing a 7 year old to something like this. But how many parents do you know who roust their runts out of bed at 4 am for a hockey practice. That's not a pro contract but it might be. A goodly number of these folks are thinking OHL/NHL. It happens to a lot of kids in a lot of sports all over the world.

I'm sure we all know "stage parents" who drag their kids to auditions for commercials and TV shows. And how many of us have watched our little Cosmo or Cora in the school play and thought "You know my kid has ton of talent. Maybe....just maybe......" After the annual grade one pageant where you're kid sang "gobble, gobble, gobble" dressed as a turkey in rousing rendition of Old Mc Donald Had A Farm you figured you had a budding Bieber on your hands and got him agent.

I don't know about you but the only time the word contract came up when I was 7 was when the doctor told my mother I had contracted measles. I was itching to get that over with. And what's the thought process of a 7 year old. What I wanted most when I was 7 was to be 8.

What was floating through my developing dome at 7?
-Going to bed at 8 o'clock sucks.
-Getting up at 7:30 sucks.
-Lima beans suck.
-Aunty Dotty kissing me sucks.
-Homework sucks.
-Don't pick your nose in class. It grosses out the girls.
-I wish my last name was Mulligan so I could get a do over on my spelling test.
-I hate all girls. Except for Cindi and Donna. And the new girl in my class but I can't remember her name but I know it starts with an L. I think.
-I like Betty more than Veronica but I would marry Veronica because her dad is rich and I could have a yacht.
-Pez suck. Except when it comes out of a Popeye dispenser. It's like he's spitting candy.
-I bet Oscar the Grouch could beat up Bert and Ernie but probably not the Count.
-I wonder if Polkaroo ever met Big Bird.
-Pick your nose in class. It grosses out the girls.

My career choices changed every day. One day a vet the next day a cowboy. I had a new job path with every TV show I watched. I spent a couple weeks trying to find the address for Star Fleet Academy so I could go where no man has gone before. For a while I wanted to be a proctologist (heard about it on Marcus Welby). I felt like an ass when I found out what they actually did.

Being an athlete crossed my mind. Hockey looked interesting. At 7 I thought I could skate. My ankle didn't.
I could throw a ball and swing a bat. I just never figured the yin and the yang of baseball. I couldn't hit the ball with the bat. I could play a mean game of lawn darts and was heartbroken when I found out there was no pro tour.

That's the beauty of being a kid. At 9 you didn't want to be what you had planned to be at 7. At 11 your 9 year old career dream was so yesterday. By 11 your voice was changing. By 12 the hormones started to kick in. By 13 you had hair on your body where no hair had grown before. By 14 you finally worked up the nerve to talk to that new girl in school from 7 years before. Who you'd dance with on Friday was a bigger concern than who would hire you at 21.

Leo still has a lot of growing up to do. Deciding on a career at 7 is a big commitment. And who knows? At 15 he just might walk into his living room and announce to his parents "Mom, dad....Gotta Dance". Jumps the next bus for Buenos Aires and lands a gig in the chorus of Le Cage Au Faux.

SAY HELLO TO BRETT LAWRIE BUT WHERE'S THE BUZZ?

By Rick on August 10, 2011 12:21 PM | No TrackBacks

If you're a Blue Jay fan, even if you're not, you've probably heard the name Brett Lawrie. Since the day the Jays sent the ace of their pitching staff, Shawn Marcum, to Milwaukee for the minor league maybe we've been getting the goods on this guy. It was the classic "short term pain for long term gain" type of trade.

Thing is Lawrie isn't a maybe. He's a can't miss. He can hit, he can field, he can throw. That's an impressive 3 ball combination on the resume. And what makes it even more warm and fuzzy is that he's a Canadian. Born, bred and spoon fed baseball in British Columbia. He's the best thing to come bouncing out of B.C. since Pamela Anderson.

Now I get it. I understand what the Jays are up to. They're laying a foundation for the future and right now it looks pretty damn good. Young and talented and if they leave the roof open at the dome and wind blows the right way these kids should all mature at roughly the same time which would finally give Toronto it's first genuine playoff contender since the early 90's.

Best of all Lawrie one of us. Born north of the 49th who chose baseball over hockey. Fungo fans drool thinking we could be on the brink of seeing the blossoming of another Larry Walker, Justin Morneau or Joey Votto. In his opening series on the road against Baltimore he looked like Captain Canada, a homer, a couple of ribbies and a gaudy 450-plus batting average. He was busted to corporal for his Toronto debut with an oh-fer against Oakland and ironically it was another Canuck, Rich Harden, who shut him down.

There was a lot of talk in the media on Wednesday morning about the buzz at the ball park and it all revolved around Lawrie. The future was finally here. You have to like the kid. Cocky but courteous. Confident but cordial. You'd have him for a son, you let him date your daughter. And yes there was a buzz but it comes mostly from the media.

To be sure there was stimulation in the stands. But it was commotion from a crowd of 20 thousand. That's less than half capacity for the arrival of a franchise saviour. Listen, you could dress the Toronto Marlies in Maple Leaf uniforms, send them out against Columbus and you'd fill the ACC. A Raptor team that looks more like a Development League team of wanna-bes, maybes and used to bes sells 3/4's of the tickets in that same building. So what was going on a the dome on Tuesday night is not what I would equate to a buzz.

Here's a buzz. 4 million fans a season. A sell out every night. Waiting weeks to get your dukes on a ducat. A Blue Jay game trumping everything else for your entertainment dollar. Treating trips to Dunedin for spring training like an annual pilgrimage. Watching a team that could win and did win. Toronto had all of that in the early 90's. Tuesday's reaction by the fans was more like casual curiosity than a buzz.

Fans didn't come out to see Roy Haladay, arguably the best pitcher in the game. They don't make the turn styles tick to get a boo at the Majors reigning deacon of ding Jose Bautista. We get a buzz for a bit and then it's back to apathy. Every time I turn on sports radio someone is chirping about signing Brewer free agent Prince Fielder in the off season. Here's a bulletin. They Jays aren't ready for him. They're not all grown up yet and he's not coming here.

The early 90's were a perfect storm for Toronto baseball. The Jay's had a higher payroll than the Red Sox and the Yankees in their World Series years. That's not going to happen again. They had a brand new state of the art stadium that inspired awe. Now it's a relic. The buzz back then was a sellout every night. Tuesday night was Brett Lawrie's coming out party in the city. There were more empties in the stands that you see after a frat party. Those frat boys got a buzz on. The Jays didn't.

GOD AND SPORTS

By Rick on August 10, 2011 10:37 AM | No TrackBacks

I heard an interesting discussion the other day about the quarterback controversy with the Denver Broncos. The incumbent, Kyle Orton has all the tools to be the starting passer but he's not a winner. Tim Tebow is a winner but doesn't have to the tools to be an NFL quarterback. So you've got 2 camps. One that wants Orton to fail so Tebow gets the gig. The other that wants Tebow to buy the back 40 and let a real quarterback be the quarterback.

But there's another part to this. There are some who want Tebow to go bust because he's a Christian. Not just a Christian to punches the clock once a week at church and gives to the odd charity. But a believer who uses his fame and the media attention that comes along with it to tell you that he got to where he got in life, and you can get there too, with the help of the Lord.

I've had conversations with "God Squad" athletes who pray before, during and after games. Some of them came to believe later in life after years of believing that cavort and sport were went hand in hand. Getting "some" after a bottle of rum was what athletes did. But not Tebow. He was washed in the blood at an early age.

Coaches seem to like religious athletes. Rarely controversial, they stay out trouble. Faith, family and football. They don't hang with thugs and they don't play with drugs. And if they can make it all the way through Leviticus chances are pretty good they get through a playbook.

The problem I have with these athletes is that after a win they want to thank God and their Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. It's like their affinity with the trinity decided the outcome. The critics argue "If there is a God he has far better things to do than worry about the out come of a sports event." Well, maybe not.

In Genesis God had a lot of time for humans. He hung out in the garden with Adam and Eve. Gave them advise, tossed the frisbee around and even warned them about the tree of knowledge. They probably should have paid attention to that pearl of wisdom. They didn't listen and had to downsize from Eden to The land of Nod.

He gave Noah a heads up on the flood and then walked him through the cubit concept to build the Ark. Yaweh said "this way" to Abraham and took him into the land of Canaan The 2 became pals.

He told an apprehensive Moses to go back to Egypt, round up his people, and bring them home. 'Course he appeared to Moses as a burning bush. A burning bush starts talking to you and you'll pretty much do what ever it tells you to do. Moses and Yaweh had an interesting relationship. They confided in one another, traded barbs and argued.

The chosen people did a lot of complaining. Manna for breakfast, manna for lunch and manna for dinner. This went on for 40 years. Moses is the paradigm for men getting lost. No GPS, no maps so he pretty much guessed his way through the desert while his followers were saying to each other "weren't we just here?"

God was getting fed up. He hung the handle "a stiff necked people" on the Hebrews although after seeing what their Yaweh did to the Egyptians with those 10 plagues you can understand why their necks would stiffen up from looking over their shoulders wondering what the good Lord had in store for them. God's face time with humans started to fade. No more walks in the garden. No more road trips with the tribe. No more dictating terms. We were on our own.

So maybe it went something like this. If there is a God and he created the world maybe he just hung around until he either got fed up with us or figured we could do it on our own. If evolution is a fact then maybe that was the plan. I'll get you this far and evolution will take care of the rest. If that's ture then it would seem that God does have time on his hands. Oh he'll toss us the odd curve ball like the pyramids, crop circles, corn dogs and the Kardasians just to see if we're paying attention but he pretty much leaves us to their own devices. So God has a lot of time on his hands and if his time is eternal then he has a lot of it to kill.

Movies? Same old same old? TV? I don't think "Trashopolis" is up his alley. "Ancient Aliens"? He gets a giggle out that one because we still haven't figured it out. "America's Got Talent" ? He knows better. He figures out "who did it" a couple of minutes into "Criminal Minds" and he stops watching when "Ellen" stops dancing. So maybe God pays attention to sports. Maybe he does care who wins and who loses.

Don't forget the apostle Matthew was a tax collector. I doubt if checking on Revenue Canada forms is a priority once you past the pearly gates. But Matthew knows numbers so what are the odds he's laying odds on all sorts of things. Bookie to the big guy. God just might be filling himself with celestial bliss these days by betting a bob or 2 on ball games. Tim Tebow banks on God and God bets on Tebow to cover the spiritual spread. Faith goes both ways.

If Yaweh has his way and according to Matthew it's a good bet he will then Tebow beats out Kyle Orton as the Bronco's starting signal caller. The Bronco's become God's squad. Except of course when the play The Saints. That game is off the board.

10 GOING ON 20: EXPLOITING THYLANE

By Rick on August 9, 2011 3:46 PM | No TrackBacks

Her name is Thylane Lena-Rose Blondeau. She's causing quite the stir for her pictures in the French edition of Vogue magazine. If you've seen the shots it's obvious she's pretty hot. IF YOU'RE AN 11 YEAR OLD BOY! Thylane is 10 years old made up to look like she's in her late teens. This goes way beyond selling fashion. It's selling fantasies and those fantasies are totally inappropriate for anyone this age to be pedaling.

If you haven't seen the pictures have a look.
http://youtu.be/yGki3vuRcmo

Mom has worked in television. Dad a former soccer star. The spotlight, fame and media exposure probably came easy for the daughter. She's been modeling since she was 5. Preteens modeling can be cute. These shots aren't cute. At best they're disturbing. Some think they boarder on kiddy porn. Mom has pulled the shots of Thylane's facebook page. Not because she came down with guilts about exploiting her child but because she didn't want to "distress" her kid with all the negative reaction to the pictures.

Listen if you're a 20 year old woman and you want to drop you skivvies for Playboy go knock yourself out. You are an adult. You can make adult decisions. You may regret it later but ultimately you called the shot on it. Thylane may have decided this is what she wanted to do but at some point it's up to the parents to you're not old enough.

Give a little thought to what we're doing with our kids. Paris Hilton was a B list, famous for being famous, wanna be celeb. Then her sex video when viral and gave new meaning to "spending a night in Paris" She turned infamy into an industry. Marketing muck to micro-boppers. Clothes, perfume and pup in a pouch purses. You have to know the dogs she carried around with her would rather be smelling butts than "Siren", "Tease" and the subtly named "Paris Hilton".

What was I doing when I was 10? Wishing I was 11. When my kids were that age they understood they had an image to protect so they begged me not to take them to Mc Donald's Play Land anymore. Chuck E Cheese was so much cooler. Angst started earlier for them.

Thylane is living in a different universe and it bothers me. Parents do the best they can to keep their kids safe. We've seen the tv shows, we've heard the horror stories. They're out there. People who prey on children. People who hurt kids. Abusing a child is one of the most heinous crimes there is. The sentences for these criminals are ridiculously light. How many child abusers are repeat offenders? How many serve their terms get out and the public is warned that the probability they will offend again is high? But according to the law they've paid their debt to society. No they haven't. You sexually abuse a child you destroy a life. You have to go away for life. We can't afford the risk these people present to our kids.

Are the pictures of Thaylane kiddy porn? No. Suggestive? Yes. But if they point one budding pervert in that direction then 10 year olds have no business being photographed like this and the child's parents have no right encouraging it or allowing it to happen. We can't take the risk. We can't risk out kids.

TIGER AND STEVIE: THE BEST RIVALRY IN GOLF

By Rick on August 8, 2011 6:12 PM | No TrackBacks

Hey, Stevie Williams, we get it. You're pissed at Tiger.

I have never seen a golf tournament like the one we saw this past weekend where the caddy was as big star as the golfer. Maybe bigger. Stevie Williams managed to pull that off. The one time wing man for Tiger Woods, who was recently fired, was carrying clubs for Adam Scott at the Bridgestone Invitational on the weekend. Scott won the tourney. Woods finished 37th.

Williams cut of Scott's winnings was about 140 thousand. His former employer took over just over 54 grand. That should be enough gloating for the guy who used to hand Woods his woods. But no, Williams had to twist the 9 iron a little deeper into Tiger's back. He called the Bridgestone win "the greatest win of his life". This is a guy who caddied for Greg Norman and for Woods. Oh, and by the way Stevie you didn't "win" it. You were the side salad to Scott's quarter chicken dinner.

The word "greatest" is up for debate here. With all the wins Williams had with Woods you would think the odd Master's title might be at the top of his chart. But some folks close to Williams think by greatest he meant most satisfying. Insiders say that's because Scott actually listened to what the big daddy of all caddies had to tell him. Tiger would too often blow him off.

We know all about the break between Woods and Williams. It started when Stevie asked Tiger if it would be okay for him to caddy for Scott at the U S Open. Woods was on the shelf so what would the problem be? Well the problem would be this, a good caddy (and Williams just might be the best ever) is like a coach. The golfer knows exactly what he should be doing. He knows exactly what club to pick. But it never hurts to get some advise from someone who has the goods on the game. The wisdom of Williams is legendary. Some think it can be worth as much as one shot per round, 4 shots per tournament. So basically what Williams wanted to do was give comfort to the competition. Aid and abet a rival. Tiger figured at that point it might be a good idea to cut the cord.

Williams is the media's dream come true. Someone with something to say about somebody important and who's willing to say it. C'mon, when's the last time you saw a caddy interviewed coming off the 18th after a win? When is the last time the hired help got more hype than the head honcho. Never. Not in a golf tournament.

Williams didn't just burn his bridges on the weekend he torched the trestle. Tiger wont be heading for the kiwi coast to celebrate Waitangi Day (honouring New Zealand's founding document) with the Williams family any time soon and I don't think we'll see much in the way of separation anxiety. This is almost as messy as the Tiger and Elin split. Actually messier. The one time Mrs. Woods didn't have much to say. His former course councilor has plenty.

I do have one problem with Williams though. He says he never, at any time, had any knowledge about Tigers randy romps in the raw with a string of women. Now unless Woods flew in all of them in at the same time for one lascivious liaison at the No Tell Motel in Reno on a long weekend I'm having a tough time buying Williams story. The trysts had been going on for years. This is like telling me that Bill Clinton's executive assistant had no idea Monica was dropping in on the Chief Executive to discuss the impact of cigars on domestic policy.

Observers at the Bridgestone say that Williams and Tiger didn't say a word to each other before, during or after the tournament. But if television wants to get back the audience it lost when Tiger fell from grace they might want to talk to the folks who run the PGA Tournament just to see if they might get a first and second round pairing of Williams and Woods. Well, Adam Scott and Woods. Stevie and Tiger would be teeing off on each other before the 7th fairway. Now that would be the greatest.

THE MURDER OF JAMES ANDERSON

By Rick on August 8, 2011 4:29 PM | No TrackBacks

My favourite movie is "To Kill A Mockingbird". It's set in small town Alabama in the 1930's and tells the story of a black man named Tom Robinson who's accused of beating a raping a local white woman. He's innocent. The evidence proved that. He was found guilty by an all white jury. While awaiting sentencing Tom escapes. He's hunted down and murdered by vigilantes.

The book, by Harper Lee, and the movie was an indictment of intolerance and racism in the American south where the hangover from the Civil War still ached. Where the Confederate battle flag was the flag of choice. Where democrats were always elected because it was a Republican, Abraham Lincoln, who emancipated the slaves. It was just 70 years after Lee surrendered at Appomattox. Memories die hard. In 1955 14 year old Emmett Till was beaten and lynched for allegedly whistling at a white woman. No one was ever convicted of the murder.

Most of us will never understand that kind of hate. Never understand how the colour of someone's skin can make them a lesser person, forces them to sit in the back of the bus or is forced to use a separate drinking fountain. The laws of the US say those days are over. The reality is different.

On a recent Sunday morning just before sun up 49 year old James Anderson was standing in a parking lot in Jackson Mississippi when 2 car loads of teenagers pulled in. They beat him and then 18 year old Deryl Dedmon ran Anderson over and killed him.

It wasn't spur of the moment. It was planned. They left home looking for a black person to "f**k with". They drove 16 miles to a predominately black area and got off the interstate. Anderson was the first black they saw.
While they beat him shouts of "white power" could be heard. The entire episode was caught on security video cameras. There's little debate as to what happened.

Police say that Dedmon was the ringleader. He's accused of driving the car and accused of the murder. If convicted he'd be facing 2 life sentences. He would never see the outside world again. Justice? What the hell is justice for a crime like this? Drink some beers, round up your peeps, climb into daddy's SUV and hunt down another human being. An innocent human being who was in wrong place at the wrong time. For these miscreants (who wouldn't know the meaning of the word let alone where to look it up) it was like a weekend hunting trip. Go out and bag yourself a deer. James Anderson became quarry. He was prey for kids who were acting like animals.

I don't think racism is inbred. I don't think it's hard wired into our DNA. It's taught. It's taught by family, it's taught by friends. I once read a theory that a lot of people need someone to look down on. In prison a murderer looks down on a child molester. Back in the the Alabama of To Kill A Mockingbird poor whites might have crappy lives but in their minds they'd always be better than a black person. But first someone had to point that out to them. Someone in Jackson Mississippi brainwashed these middle class kids into thinking the same way. Into believing that James Anderson's life didn't matter and they took it from him and his family.

I'm not a great believer in the "sins of the father." That I have to atone for the wrong doings of my father or his father. Slavery in the west was based on white greed. I am not to blame for that. That was a different time and a different culture and a different mind set. You would think. It's not in this case. In To Kill A Mockingbird Tom Robinson, a black man, was murdered for a crime he didn't commit. Emmett Till, a black youth, was murdered for a perceived insult. James Anderson, a black man, was murdered for being a black man.

It's a crime I can't can't conceive of but there are times when I am ashamed of being a white man.

SPORTS SNORTS: THE ISLANDERS, BEING A PREDATOR AND HOTTIE HOCKEY

By Rick on August 4, 2011 11:38 AM | No TrackBacks

The New York Islanders had an arena deal trashed the other day by their local city council. No tax money to keep the Isles on the island. That doesn't bother me especially in the current economic climate. So a new barn will have to be built with private money or the team packs up it's pucks and heads to a new location.

The new arena being built in Brooklyn is a possibility although it's a little light seat wise for hockey coming in at about 14 thousand capacity. Oklahoma City has an arena and no team. Portland crops up in the conversation although that's a long shot. Quebec City is the francophone fave. And this week I have heard the discussion about scoffing the Islanders for Southern Ontario (Hamilton) or even the GTA giving Toronto that oft mentioned second team that would be automatically embraced by everyone south of Sudbury except of course the Maple Leafs.

Let's get real about this. A second team in the Big Smoke or the surrounding area is estimated to be the 4th or 5th most valuable franchise in the NHL before they drop the first puck. When you're sitting on a gold mine like that you don't move an existing team you award an expansion team. What would the value of an expansion team be worth? I think you could peg it at a half billion dollars! You move the Islanders inside the Bud's boundary and the Leafs get paid off allowing another team to share it's turf. The other owners get the square root of diddly. Award an expansion team and every other team gets a slice of pie.

What would you do?

----

Shae Weber wins his arbitration hearing with the Nashville Predators. 7.5 mill on a one year deal. The Preds came in at 4.75 mill for one of the top 4 or 5 defencemen in hockey and a Norris Trophy finalist last season. Nashville says it wants to cut a long term deal with Weber. Here's the problem. The Predators are not a major player when it comes to finances. It's a team that spends to the salary cap floor. It can flirt with being a contender but the players will never sip the suds from the Stanley Cup.

The looniest part of this is Weber's agent, Jarrett Bousquet, telling us that his client is happy. He likes it down on Music City Row. Bousquet says Weber..."always wanted to be a Predator".   Hold that thought for a moment. Shae Weber always wanted to be a Predator. No he didn't. No kid growing up on the north side of the 49th parallel grew up dreaming about one day donning the duds of the Nashville Predators.

You grow up in Sicamous B.C. and you might have visions of Vancouver, fantasies of the Flames, maybe notions of New York or even ACC aspirations. But no hockey player has "always" wanted to be a Predator.

----

Beach Volleyball, Lingerie Football and now being unveiled is the Bikini Basketball League. Luscious ladies showing us that a "pick and roll" is not something you look for in a singles bar. They're even having tryouts for a Toronto troop of roundball babes. A low post wont be a catty comment on facebook.

I get it. Scantily clad sirens titalating the taste buds of lusty lads who are thinking..."Yea, I'd take her home." And you would. But they wouldn't. An air ball is the best you can hope for.

You know if these promoters really wanted to impress me they serve up the "HHL". The Hottie Hockey League.
Combine scantily clad hard body women with hockey and you have the 2 things Canadian men drool over. Women they can't have with a sport they can't play.

'Course you'd have to have a different set of rules than you do in the NHL. Holding is allowed. It's a male fantasy. The butt end is encouraged. And you want these puck bunnies to clutch and grab. Slowing the game down is what you want. Hooking is okay but not for money.

Hottie hockey would also have different takes on terms. Like the NHL a 2 on one is good. A 3 on one is better. But in the HHL that's not what the fans are thinking about. In the NHL you get a minor penalty for tripping. In Hottie hockey you get a minor penalty for having a player in the lineup under the age of 19.

The men watching these games will have to pay attention. Line change means coming up with something better than "Hey sweetie, what's your sign?" Charging doesn't mean you have to hand them you're Visa card. And between periods.....?....let's just leave that one alone.

----

BREAKING WIND, LEGAL AND LITIGIOUS (THE ART OF THE FART)

By Rick on July 27, 2011 8:53 PM | No TrackBacks

I don't know why men find farts funny. Well most men. I don't think we're hardwired for this. It's not tucked away in our DNA. It's taught. It's the "pull my finger" lessons that every father teaches his son. My daddy taught me his daddy taught him. I taught my sons and I know they'll continue the tradition and pass it down their putt-putt progeny. Paleontologists think this may date back to the stone age where our ancestors sat around the fire pulling each others digits. 'Course they didn't realize at the time that having a gas by passing gas so close to flaming embers could lead to burnt butts. It's the art of the fart. Today we refer to it as neoflatulence.

A while back I saw a letter in Globe and Mail from a woman who's boyfriend was constantly breaking wind. They were way beyond the usual bottom burps. This guy was dropping f bombs that set off sirens. He could and did, according to his girlfriend, clear rooms and he was getting away it. He was dropping SBDs. Silent but deadlies are the Black Ops of the fart fraternity. This stealth bomber was guilty of covert cuts but only he and his sweetie knew it. She was looking for advise to help her boyfriend stop expelling his demons. He didn't just stop clocks. He stopped time.

In Ohio a couple of 7th graders couldn't keep their rippin' under wraps. They were letting them go loud and proud on the school bus until the driver caught a whiff of what was going on. Their vapour caper cost the 2 their bus privilidges.

Now I didn't realize this until long after I was out of high school. I could never figure out why there was certain aroma to our late afternoon English class. Back then about 70% of all students had peanut butter sandwiches packed in their lunch bags. Peanuts are a legume. Legumes are a flatulent. You would have thought they might have given us a heads up on that in science class. We learned about Gregor Mendal's beans but not the pungent properties of the peanut.

When I was doing a comedy show on the radio the episode that got the most reaction, virtually all positive, was an all fart hour. Nothing but air biscuit bits including a cd of the World Farting Championships. Most of the thumbs up came from men. But not all men are fart friendly. One man is taking his former boss to court for, among other things, shooting the breeze.

Fernando Flores who once rode shotgun for Britney Spears is suing his one time employer for about 14 million dollars. The Litany on Britney goes like this.
-She walked around naked and sexually harassed him.
-She chained smoked and smelled like tobacco.
-She didn't brush her teeth.
-She didn't shower.
-She didn't use deodorant.
-She was loud and profane.
-She picked her nose.
-She farted unapologetically.

I think most of us figured that was going on behind closed doors. Britney has always exuded certain trailer trash traits that most of us could pick up on. You'll notice she never referred to her fans as the great unwashed. Not when she was one of them. But apparently Flores wasn't ready for lifestyles of kitsch and famous. He's charging that his time with Spears caused him psychological damage, insomnia, depression and anxiety attacks.

Apparently Britney was acoustically perfect with her tuneful toots. A good old girl doesn't lose her Mississippi miasma no matter how far from home she gets. The little stinker probably got the inspiration for her hit single..."Ooops..I Did It Again" from her unabashed butt bombs. She was more than happy to take requests for "Baby One More Time."

So not all women think the art of the fart is a male domain. Gotta like a woman who can look a man sqaure in the eye and say "go ahead, pull my finger" and give you the end result. Just one of the guys who knows how to put the fun in flatulence,

THE FORDS: ROB AND DOUG OR BOB AND DOUG?

By Rick on July 27, 2011 12:38 PM | No TrackBacks

I'm not much into politics. It's a dirty business. The older I get the less respect I have for politicians. They seem to come from 2 groups. The wealthy, who are looking for something to do with their time and people who failed at their chosen profession. So much for my preamble.

Now when I hear the name Ford the first names that pop into my head are Henry, creator of the first affordable car and Bob Ford, killer of Jesse James. But in Toronto, when you talk Ford these days you're talking about the Ford faction. The new power team in town of Mayor Rob and councilor Doug. They came out of the last municipal election as a Batman and Robin combo all set to save the city. This week they come across like the McKenzie brothers, Bob and Doug not Rob and Doug. Less endearing but funny in an odd sort of way.

Councilor Doug started rattling cages when he thought shutting down libraries might be a good idea to save money. Quite honestly, I don't know if he's right or wrong. If libraries are mostly empty, and again I don't know if they are, then maybe it would be a good way to trim a little fat. But it's his reaction to criticism, specifically criticism from Margret Atwood that gnaws at your noodle.

Atwood used twitter to start a campaign to stop the closures urging people to sign an online petition. A legitimate form of protest in a democracy. Apparently Doug doesn't equate egalitarianism with "for the people, by the people." He said "Tell her to go run in the next election and get democratically elected. And we'd be more than happy to sit down and listen to Margret Atwood."

That's not what bothers me. What bothers me is something he reportedly said at City Council. "I don't know her. If she walked by me I wouldn't have a clue who she is." Now, I am not a huge fan of Margret Atwood's writing. But dammit I know who she is. She is an icon of Canadian literature. A best selling author. Even if you've never read her books you know the name and you know the face.

'Course if you're a prepubescent who spends your time glued to Harry Potter or a post pubescent who can't get enough of Twilight I can understand how you might have missed Atwood. But you would think a grown man living in Canada and a politician must have come into contact with something other than comic books in his life and should know who Margret Atwood is. If he was being a smart ass and taking a shot at her he's boorish. If he's serious and really doesn't know who she is it's frightening. You wonder if he ever had a library card.

Move on now to Rob Ford, the mayor of all things metro, who out bonered his brother. A woman charges that "his honour" flipped her the bird after she told him to get off his cell phone while he was behind the wheel of his car at an intersection. The mayor says the lady is mistaken. The woman says no mistake, he put down the phone and flashed the pheasant. She clearly saw it and so did her 6 year old daughter.

That part of it is in dispute. 2 versions off the same story. What isn't in dispute is that the Mayor of Toronto was on his cell phone while he was behind the wheel. That is illegal. Years ago I saw a prominent local politician have his limo pull over and had his driver get out and run into a coffee shop for him. It happened on Yonge St. in rush hour. I thought "the arrogance of this guy". He was elected to serve the public not impede the public. He acted like a first among equals. And technically he broke the law.

Now there are a whole lot of people who don't take unlawful parking or the cell phone law seriously. Driving back from Niagara I counted at least 20 people on the highway on their cells. I don't have a problem with Ford wanting to do business while he's tied up in traffic. It's cost effective. But surely the mayor of the largest city in the country can afford a hands free car phone. If not then stay off it.

I don't want and I don't expect much from politicians. What I do want and expect is for them to set an example for the rest of us. You want us to obey the rules then you obey the rules. You set the example. The people didn't ask you to run for mayor, you asked the people for the honour to be your honour. This kind of an offense doesn't buy you a stay in the Don Jail. But it is an offense and doubly offensive when it's the mayor doing it.

This isn't about politics it's about image. It's about representing your city. You can't afford to have the Fords representing Toronto if they're going to act like The McKenzie brothers. G'day.

GRIN AND BARE IT: A RELIGIOUS REVELATION OF SORTS

By Rick on July 26, 2011 9:33 PM | No TrackBacks

I've been living alone on this farm here for about 5 months now. In all that time I have had 2 unsolicited visitors. A lovely young lady from Stats Can dropping off the census form. The other was a neighbour just checking in to see if there was anything I needed. Both were short cordial visits. It's virtually the life of a hermit. No one bothers me and I don't bother anyone.

This morning I had just jumped out of the shower, put on my bvd's and thought I'd run down and grab another coffee while my clothes were drying. I passed the first window on the stairs and "what the hell"! There was a black SUV parked out side. Now I've been watching Criminal Minds a lot lately so my first thought was that government agents had come to visit. Maybe a "Men In Black" scenario with Feds looking for aliens and not aliens from anywhere on this planet. Could the cats be from another world?

I went to the kitchen for a better look. Starring back at me from the other side of the widow was a pair of elderly people. Now when I say elderly I don't just mean the north side of freedom 55. I mean elderly. Like they were about 40 years past their "best before date." They, in their Sunday best. Me in my skivvies. Now, I don't bolt very often. Can't remember the last time I used the word. But I bolted upstairs, put on my pants and grabbed the first available Hawaiian shirt and headed back down stairs.

Living alone can make you just a touch paranoid. As I got closer to the door it occured to me that maybe this was a scouting party for the Grim Reaper. Maybe he had called in my IOU and it was time to cash in my chips. I'm looking out, the couple is looking in like one of those pictures with of those creepy kids with the big eyes. At first I thought the woman was blushing because she had seen me in my almost altogether. But no. She had enough rouge caked on her face to be mistaken for a pomegranate. The man seemed hauntingly familiar. Then it dawned on me. His lined face looked exactly like a road map of Newmarket.

I opened the door with some hesitation. Hoping they were lost and needed directions I asked if I could be of some help. That's when I noticed they had a wheel man. A guy in the driver's seat of the SUV. Maybe this was a hit for some unpaid debt. Maybe retribution from a former wife. For a moment I thought maybe just maybe Bonnie and Clyde did get away.

It was none of the above. The elderly lady looked me square in the eye and said "I'll be brief." I thought she was being a smart ass because that's what she saw me wearing when she came to the door. She continued "I'm here with good news." LOTTERY! I WON THE &%#(!@ LOTTERY! My hopes were immediately dashed when she started to explain that getting into heaven wasn't as hard as I might think. 'Course the first think that popped into my mind was "There's a lady who's sure all that glitters is gold...and she's buying a stairway to......"

She told me I just had to live a good life, believe what she believed. Do what she did. I didn't say it but I thought.... "Would that be pulling up to some unsuspecting person's house who never gets visitors and spends his days talking to cats while occasionally (and it is only occasionally) wandering around in his gotchies?".........("When she gets there she knows if the stores are all closed...with a word she can get what she came for".....I couldn't shake the damn song.)

She wanted to know if I believed. I told her I was agnostic which I though might open the door for a discourse on deism. It's not often I get to talk about things like this. I was giddy with anticipation like a sailor about to go on shore leave. Oh joy! But then the words to the song came back to me. "Ooh, and it makes me wonder". It made me wonder how I could possibly scurtinize scripture with a woman who had just seen me in my jockeys. Turn the other cheek went way beyond it's Biblical intent in this case. I know she wanted me to be "born again" but after almost seeing me in my birthday suit I thought it might be wise to end this before it began. I asked if she had any pamphlets that I could read. She handed me one, smiled and walked back to the SUV with her escort although I swear I could here her chuckle as she left. "And it made me wonder......" what she had actually seen.

The visit left an impression. Not quite Paul on the road to Damascus but I did have an Epiphany. From now on I'm keeping the curtins closed.

The Hodge Blog

Rick Hodge Tells It Like It Is

7 YEAR OLD SIGNS PRO SOCCER CONTRACT. BY 15 HE'LL BE A...?

SAY HELLO TO BRETT LAWRIE BUT WHERE'S THE BUZZ?

GOD AND SPORTS

10 GOING ON 20: EXPLOITING THYLANE

TIGER AND STEVIE: THE BEST RIVALRY IN GOLF

THE MURDER OF JAMES ANDERSON

SPORTS SNORTS: THE ISLANDERS, BEING A PREDATOR AND HOTTIE HOCKEY

BREAKING WIND, LEGAL AND LITIGIOUS (THE ART OF THE FART)

THE FORDS: ROB AND DOUG OR BOB AND DOUG?

GRIN AND BARE IT: A RELIGIOUS REVELATION OF SORTS

Search

Recent Comments

Recent Entries

Categories

Monthly Archives