CHANGE! Obama is behind this post.

Admittedly, I don't get the bumper sticker thing. I just don't have anything that I feel so strongly about that a little two inch by six inch sticker on my crapmobile is the best way to communicate my love to the masses. I mean, I am the only individual in the world boasting a trendy 2004 Source 95.1 orange window cling, but I use that to find my car in a parking lot as much as I use it to advertise my beloved college radio station that no one in Minnesota is within 500 miles to hear.

That being said, can we please retire the 2004 political bumper stickers? None of the four men featured on these displays of election fanaticism are running for office this time around. Let's move on.

Get a nice new Obama "Change" sticker or a McCain "Experience" sticker, or whatever buzzword best sums up a lifetime of work and their future of rule. While I never ever would put a political bumper sticker on my own vehicle, can I least get the United States behind me so that I can at least view fresh new material? What happens when these folks so far behind the times still haven't changed over come November? Then they'll be two elections behind and nothing says uncool like that.

Do your part, change over your bumper sticker today.

RIP: 2008 Cleveland Indians

I take a little extended Fourth of July holiday with very little access to the outside world (Missouri will do that to you) and even less yet of the sports sphere. Much to my surprise, I return to find the underachieving Cleveland Indians a shadow of their former selves. Joe Blows and CC No Periods are off the team. Woo! The team gave up halfway through 2008 and just like that we're done. I suppose things are back to normal. Man, one game away from the World Series seems like such a long time ago.

So the question definitely turns to what the hell happened?

The only thing keeping me from answering "everything" is Grady Sizemore. The man is marvelous and he's better this year than last. Unfortunately, he's the only thing that has improved has nearly every other position has seen a decrease in performance. You'll have to double the 2008 numbers to get a semi accurate comparison as we are now halfway through the the season. Around the horn:

Catcher, Victor Martinez:
2007: .374 OBP, 25 HRs, 114 RBIs
2008: .332 OBP, 0 HR, 21 RBIs, and DLed (198 at bats)

First Base, Ryan Garko:
2007: .359 OBP, 21 HRs, 61 RBIs
2008: .324 OBP, 6 HRs, 40 RBIs

Second Base, Asdrubal Cabrera*:
2007: .354 OBP, 30 runs, 3 HRs, 22 RBIs
2008: .282 OBP, 16 runs, 1 HR, 14 RBIs
*Asdrubal came up to the majors halfway through the season last year and managed 159 at bats before the season ended. This year, he had 158 at bats before heading back to the minors to stop sucking. The at bats are almost exactly perfect for our comparison.

Shortstop, Jhonny Peralta*:
2007: .341 OBP, 21 HRs, 72 RBIs
2008: .298 OBP, 13 HRs, 38 RBIs
*Jhonny's power numbers are about on par from last year which while unspectacular are seemingly immune from the Cleveland suckfest. Unfortunately, the .50 drop in OBP (sub .300!) was not.

Third Base, Casey Blake*:
2007: .339 OBP, 16 HRs, 78 RBIs
2008: .355 OBP, 8 HRs, 47 RBIs
*Casey ever the average third baseman has seen a tad bit of improvement. The problem being that most of the improvement came in the last 30 days when Cleveland was already playing catch up. As late as June 6th, his OBP was .315.

Right Field, Franklin Gutierrez:
2007: .318 OBP, 13 HRs, 36 RBIs
2008: .269 OBP, 3 HRs, 18 RBIs
*Franklin, like Asdrubal, was a midseason call-up last year. He had 271 at bats last season and has already had 202 this year. Oh yes, he's also hitless in his last 28 at bats.

Left Field, Who Knows:
Kenny Lofton, Trot Nixon, Ed Schillinger, Jason Michaels, and David Dellucci all occupied space here in 2007. This year, Lofton and Nixon were not resigned, Michaels was released midseason, and Dellucci is batting .223 having given way to Ben Franscisco.

Starting Pitcher, Paul Byrd:
2007: 15-8, 4.59 ERA, 27 HRs allowed
2008: 3-10, 5.53 ERA, 23 HRs allowed

Relief Pitcher, Rafael Betancourt:
2007: 1.47 ERA, 0.76 WHIP, 4 HRs allowed, .183 Opponent's batting average
2008: 5.67 ERA, 1.46 WHIP, 7 HRs allowed, .293 Opponent's batting average

Not to say anything of Fausto Carmona's injury and Joe Borowski's release. I have no idea what caused this cataclysmic decline in the entire team, but I'm going to speak in hyperbole and say that it is in fact the greatest collapse of any single team from one year to the next in the history of the world. The numbers are not close. They are all horrible. Cleveland sucks.

The good news is the last time we traded an overweight pitcher for prospects, Cleveland ended up with Grady Sizemore and Cliff Lee - the only two players worth a damn on this roster. Oh, and Joe Borowski will never pitch again for the Indians. Begin the Jeff Weaver era!

A quick political lesson

One of the joys at working retail is that I do get to work with a lot of very cool youngsters just entering the real world. These folk are graduating high school, deciding whether or not to go to college, making choices regarding careers, and occasionally no showing for their shift. Many of them also are learning about the political world with this being the first Presidential election they have the opportunity to cast a vote. It was against this backdrop that I had a conversation recently at work with one such youngster.

Photo Tech: "Drew, this sucks!"

Drew: "What?"

Photo Tech: "Look at my paycheck. Taxes always eat a huge hole in what I take home."

Drew: "Vote Republican."

Photo Tech: "What? Why?"

Drew: "Generally speaking, Democrats love to share. They want everyone to have every opportunity to be equal. The problem of course is that someone has to pay for it, which is why you have a huge amount taken out of your paycheck. They are nice people, but they are expensive people. On the other hand, Republicans don't play well with others. They want people to keep what they earn and want individual accountability to reign. The problem of course, is a separation of wealthy and poor not improving, and they are thought of 'protectors of the rich' because they don't want to tax everyone, instead letting people keep what they earn. They are nice people, they just don't want to spread wealth everywhere."

Photo Tech: "Oh."

Drew: "Make sense?"

Photo Tech: "I'm feeling Republican today."

Photo from liumfamily.com

The Handyman

My father is a great man and has many skills and traits which I have inherited and try to emulate. One of them, however, is not household maintenance and repairs. My dad built me a two tiered water bed with dresser built into it and a play tunnel underneath it - without using a single nail. The guy is an engineer and constructs things for fun, and his general knowledge and usefulness around the house is impressive.

I have none of that. A nail falls out of a board? I need help. Air filters need replacing? It's a half a day project. Picture needs hanging? I don't even try anymore after scarring too many walls.

This part of Minnesota has recently been inundated by big box hardware stores, as I have two Menards, three Home Depots, and two Lowes within a 10 minute radius. I fear these stores and have an anxiety attack just driving by them. Huge monstrosities with millions of parts, pieces, and miscellaneous stuff that I don't know what they do or how to use them. Generally, I step foot in these retailers once a year, when Becky wants to see their Christmas stuff.

Yesterday should have been a disaster. I am home alone as Becky is off at an opthalmic conference out of town, which set the stage for my greatest home repair triumph of all time.

The morning started off innocently enough. I woke up, showered, checked the old fantasy baseball team (still stretching for third), and ate some breakfast. I casually strolled into our downstairs half bath, used the facilities, and went to flush the toilet. I pulled down the handle just as I have for the last three years when all of a sudden I hear a massive SNAP. The toilet does not flush and the handle is dangling from the hole.

My first reaction was to panic. Home alone with no ability to flush the toilet, I might as well board up the door and never return. That plan of action, of course, was foolish. I can't use a hammer and nails let alone deal with acquiring the boards. So, after "some time" I built up the courage to attack the problem. I dismantled the top of the toilet and discovered a fairly simplistic lever and chain mechanism that created the oh so familiar toilet flush. I studied the pieces and even played with the plunger thingy inside until I felt confident in my understanding of how this thing works.

The next step involved replacement parts. Already thinking of having to go inside of these massive stores was causing me shortness of breath. Again, after "some time" I took the plunge, hopped in the $aturn, and picked Menards as my behemoth hardware store of choice. I pulled into the lot and set foot inside trying desperately to look confident enough to know what I was doing so as to avoid the sales clerk who would no doubt know me to be a fraud. A quick reconnaissance of the hanging signs revealed bathroom supplies to the left. I scanned for clerks, avoided the Charleys, and made my way into the four aisles with the much needed ammo required for the toilet.

Menards features no fewer than fifteen different arm and levers for toilets. Damn it. I didn't measure, and only because I have lived there for three years did the fact that the lever was even white somehow register in my forgetful brain. In choosing white levers, I eliminated half the possibilities. So many of them looked so similar. What to do? Wait a moment! Some of them looked a little too similar. Relying on my retail background, I flipped over the package and cross checked UPCs. Just as I suspected! Multiple facings of the same item! Score one for the Walgreens assistant!

I narrowed down the selection to two. One a five dollar arm and lever and the other a three dollar. They looked pretty similar, and I considered buying both to avoid making another trip back. I declined this thought pattern, instead opting to roll the dice on the latter one, gambling that this would be my one and only trip to Menards. I snagged the repair piece and headed to check out.

I again surveyed the land for sales clerks, and I successfully avoided all of them. This excitement though, left me parched and I succumbed to an impulse purchase of a bottle of Dasani near the front check out. I paid and ran like hell back to the $aturn.

Once home, I knew I had not the energy to continue the process. I napped. I cleaned. I ate. I did everything but finish the project. 4pm rolls around, approximately 6 hours after the initial crisis began, and I realized now was the time.

First, I detached what remained of the old lever and chain. My hands got wet, which frightened me that somehow this water was contaminated or something, but I strengthened my resolve in conjuring up memories of having scooped poop off the Walgreens' sales floor. This was nothing.

Second, I had to attach the new lever and chain. A feisty bastard, the hook connecting the chain to the lever was an elusive match. I inadvertently flushed the toilet twice in fiddling with the unifying piece. Eventually, I succeeded. All was one. All looked right.

This, though, was too easy. I knew something had to be in error. There was only one way to know for sure if my half a day, four dollar home repair was a success. I had to use the toilet. So, I did. I stood up took a deep breath and pulled the lever, watching the swirl with greater pride than ever before. The victorious pee left me. I had won.

Subsequently, I went to my local Blockbuster and rented Rambo. I feel manly.

Photo from thisoldhouse.com

Take a little of the top and shave back the conversation

Is there a better, more gratifying feeling than walking out of the barber shop with a freshly trimmed head of hair? Sure there is, but for the purpose of the blog post, we'll leave it rhetorical.

I dislike haircuts quite a bit. While I appreciate the end result, I dislike the process. The barber shop nearest the house has three barbers, and I have the same problem with all three. I hate the conversation.

When I lived in Plainfield, I did not have this problem. The barbers could contently trim the head without but a few words of pleasantry, not afraid of silence. Better yet was when they got a TV and they spent more attention to the news than on pointless, in-person talk. For five years, I did not appreciate the glorious-ness of that simple, main street barber shop.

No, in Blaine we just have to have a conversation. I'm not much of a socialist to start, but I do have a pretty decent knowledge of current events. I follow sports more than the normal patron, which in a barber shop you would think would be more than enough to get me by for the 20 or so minutes it takes to give me the same haircut I've had. But no, it's never enough. For there are four types of barber shop conversations that I inevitably fall into.

Conversation #1: Where do you work? I'm notoriously bad at discussing this topic. It's not that I hate work, I simply don't like rehashing it with a perfect stranger. Furthermore, just because I work at a pharmacy does not mean I'm a pharmacist.

Conversation #2: Various weather comments. The most neutral and meaningless of topics is that of the weather. If we could just let it go at "it's cold" or "lots of rain" we'd be ok, but there's always carrying on and some type of historical analysis. Furthermore, this is the conversation I have fifty times a day with the customers of Walgreens, and I'm tired of it.

Conversation #3: The great outdoors. By far the most popular of the barber shop conversations, I frequently get asked about hunting, fishing, camping or whatever else these people do in the wilderness. I don't do any of the above, and despite Minnesota having an unofficial holiday whenever the fishing or hunting season begins, I could care less about whatever wild game these men brought home last weekend.

Conversation #4: Barber shop jokes. Usually crude, not that funny, and poorly told. I don't get this one very often, but when I do it's the worst of the four.

And so the other day when I walked into the barber shop, I dreaded the conversation. I figured we'd end up going with #2 as Coon Rapids (next town over) and Hugo (the town over the other direction) were hit with tornadoes this past weekend. Having an account of the storm to share, I figured I was in good shape. I can talk for a little while about my side of the storm, the barber talks about his side, we exchange cash, and I walk out of there unscathed.

Additionally in my favor was a "new" barber in the shop. This guy isn't new, in fact he's the oldest of the bunch who I've seen a couple times filling in whenever one of the regulars is either sick or on vacation. It just so happened that he was the one available, and I was up next.

Since he did not even recognize me as the others in the shop do, we immediately went for conversation #1. Right away, I was asked if I was a pharmacist. He then promptly told me in a roundabout way he doesn't like Walgreens and doesn't go there. He's the second of the barbers who has told me that. Nothing creates an awkward silence like a man with scissors telling you why he doesn't like your place of work.

With all of 60 seconds eaten up with conversation #1, we glided into conversation #2. Sure enough the recent tornadoes came up. I was already to go with my story when he shared that he commutes in thirty minutes to fill in and not only was nowhere near the storm but hadn't seen any of the footage. Damn! Foiled in my attempt to get by with #2.

That naturally slid into #3 as he was not in town because he was at his cabin over the Memorial Day weekend. I then suffered through another fishing account while trying feebly to feign interest and grunt approvals and disgusts at the right moments in the story.

In a surprising twist, he wrapped up the story and began yet another topic. An unforeseen change! A life preserver! The topic? Sports!

Having seen me wear my Valpo t-shirt in, he quickly ascertained that I was an Indiana fan in all things. I told him that despite the shirt, my allegiances were actually for Cleveland. That presented a problem.

He wanted to discuss hockey and Cleveland doesn't have a hockey team. I tried to meet him halfway and say that I had loosely followed the Minnesota Wild this season even going so far as to knowledgeably know that the Wild lost in 6 games in the first round of the playoffs. He shot that down saying he only really liked high school and collegiate hockey. To which we sat in silence for the final three minutes.

At least I was spared conversation#4. And I look good.

Photo from Insiderpages.com

Summer Vacation

Memorial Day marks the unofficial start to the summer with many school children soon leaving the confines of a school building for the baseball diamond, which will culminate in many zany adventures leading to a major motion picture called The Sandlot. Others will take luxurious vacations to places with beaches and and blue skies. And yet others will keep the local pharmacy open.

But alas, after beginning my trek toward an MBA last summer, I have been kept busy fending off stupid opinions and poor proofreading. Vacations and time off have been rare and when present have always had that "you should be doing school work" guilty feeling ruining what fun may have been had. For the next six weeks, though, things are going to change.

Having just completed my seventh of ten classes toward the degree, I have taken a class period off. Instead of spending the next six weeks mastering some business topic, I will instead merely commute to Walgreens daily. Odd that while still working full time it'll feel like such a break.

Before I left the comfy confines of the University of Phoenix learning forum, I had one last spirited debate that went right up until the end of the class. You'd think that in a class full of emerging business leaders some good ideas might exist on how to solve the economic funk that this country finds itself in. I present to you a new poster, never before featured on Wolfden V. I'll call her Pocahontas.

I do not think that the stimulus payments are an answer to the economic problems facing our country.

Ok, I can start with Pocahontas' premise. The stimulus payments are a hot topic, especially with many checks just now finding their way into tax payers' accounts. So far so good.

Giving the average working american just between $300 - $1,200 extra dollars in a one-time sum just isn't the answer.

I'm normally a stickler for basic writing skills such as capitalization but given the informal message board post, I'll give "american" a pass, even though this was written on Memorial Day.

I am sure the original tax returns received by the majority of tax payers was more than the stimulus payments.

Citing such key data and reports such as "I am sure" the basis for this statement is shady at best. A better start might have been "my skewed, biased, unresearched opinion suggests..." We don't know this statement to be true at all and is quickly soaring to become the basis for a wild argument.

If the government truly wanted to help out the economy & taxpayers why not give taxpayers an additional payment that is equal to their 2007 tax return.

And here it is. The answer to all of the United States' financial woes! Because Pocahontas received a tax refund exceeding her rebate check, the government should employ this solution to save the world. Never mind that this solution is absolutely asinine.

A tax refund is repaying your own money that you over estimated over the course of a year. It is not free money. The government is giving you back what is yours that you shouldn't have paid in the first place. Pocahontas also is failing to take into consideration all of those who have to pay taxes on April 15th and not receive a refund. I'm sure that her plan would involve them paying back into the government twice over, which as economists all know is a brilliant solution to increasing discretionary spending.

Mercifully, it's vacation time.

Photo from Vadeck.com

American Idol 2008

Here during the morning after come down, I shall make my one American Idol post for the season. A season in which a rocker finally broke through and a season in which the show is revealing signs of fatigue with declining ratings.

We shall start with the conclusion that aired last evening. The thought of a 2 hour results show usually warrants a sigh and a groan from yours truly as these lengthy programs that could air in 10 seconds are typically painful and slow. Last night, however, I didn't look at my watch every thirty seconds. The producers have done well in making the finale a carnival of variety - in essence the Super Bowl of singing. This night is an event, less about the overall winner and first runner up and more about patting the music industry on its back with new talent mixed in with old favorites being exposed to a whole new audience. The program remembers that in the last five minutes it has to announce a winner, but as we've seen from the commercial successes of fourth place finishers, the victory is the exposure the final contestants have received and the chance to market not just their music but a personality and a face to accompany it.

With that said, for the first time in nearly two years, I gave a damn about the outcome. When Daughtry was erroneously booted to become a fourth place finisher in 2006, I quit caring. I still watched the show, but the hollow feeling following a season that saw soon to be appearing on the "where are they now" segment on Entertainment Tonight winner Taylor Hicks was too much to overcome knowing that the best talent didn't even medal. Last year was fine, but I wasn't crazy about any of the contestants. Even this year with a rocker back in the mix of things, I still preferred Daughtry, but hey, that David Cook guy is pretty good, too.

American Idol has three phases a contestant must master in order to win the show, and David Cook won deservedly having conquered all three. The first phase is the audition round in which a singer must persevere through long lines, weary producers, and attention-needy losers. Simply, you must have some level of singing talent. The second phase is the Hollywood round in which a singer must stand out against a slew of other capable singers. Whereas phase one is sifting creme from crap, phase two is trickier as now you must graduate in the top 10% of the lawyer class at Harvard.

David Cook had no trouble with either of these first two phases. Clearly he can sing, though he did have to overcome not even wanting to tryout as his brother was the one who wanted to go to the audition. The second phase wasn't overly grueling either as rockers tend to be in short supply on the show, and a guy singing anything other than Stevie Wonder is bound to sound different. Through two rounds, though, Cook was not a dominant force or a favorite. He was cruising without screwing up as so many do in these early stages. Cool and consistent.

Phase three catapulted Cook from guy in the background to the 2008 American Idol. This phase is the top-12 round. This phase is the most intensive and well rounded of three. No longer can artists get by on simply singing. Instead, they must have a likable personality, songwriting ability, and this season an ability to play a music instrument. The contestant's overall well roundedness propels him/her forward. In this phase, a charming chap like Taylor Hicks can make it further than he probably should, a musical instrument can hide vocal shortcomings such as the crutch the piano and guitar provided for Brooke White and Jason Castro, or reworking songs to sound original like Blake Lewis. Combining all three into a single person creates the 2008 American Idol.

David Cook has the "everyman" likeability factor. He's got the common man rises to fame and fortune story surging strongly for him. His cool demeanor and self confidence stood out against a befuddled David Archuleta, apathetic Castro, or constantly crying White. Cook could play the guitar which made it easy to picture him as the lead singer of tomorrow's hot rock band, but he didn't need the guitar to excel. The area in which Cook most definitely stood out was his songwriting ability. Whereas many of these contestant love to sing and can very well, American Idol has become a show in which originality lacks and those artists who have the ability to cover a song stand out. Cook had lots of help covering covers, which may or may not be as original as the audience may take it for, but when Idol fans remember stand out performances for originality, "Hello" and "Billy Jean" are at the top of that list. In short, Cook had a personality, played an instrument, and could cover a song like no other singer. No one would have said at the end of round one or two that Cook was the guy to beat, but the dominating way in which he handled phase three is the reason why his face graces the top of this blog post and countless other less prestigious media outlets this morning.

With that said, first runner up David Archuleta was probably the better singer. The kid had an uncanny ability to turn it on when he took the stage. When not singing he was a pip squeak of a kid awkwardly standing in the front of the class, but with a band and a microphone, he was damn good. He outperformed Cook in the finale and had the backing of the judges to win it all. He's a prodigy of a talent, and I fully believe that if he were on the show last year, he would have left Lewis and Jordin Sparks in his wake. It's been replayed quite a bit, but "Imagine" was one helluva performance.

The rest of the field also returned for the final show, which was a nice reminder of what was a very strong top 12. David Hernandez busted out a few moves that made us remember his origins. Amanda Overmyer being forced to dance in line with the top 6 females was a reminder of her very non-traditional techniques. Kristy Lee Cook who actually improved as she went on before ultimately being exposed as being over her head got in her few lines, sounding and looking great in the process. Syesha Mercado who just missed out on making the finale as an active contestant had a self-confidence about her that made her a capable partner for Seal and Donna Summer.

Of the returning group, I am of the opinion that the Michael Johns and Carly Smithson duet and walk down the stage stairs was most memorable. At the start of the process, these two would have been my pick for the finale. Both having had record deals before, they were more polished than the other contestants with distinct voices and strong stage presence. Johns suffered from never finding his niche and probably contributed to Cook winning the whole show when a similar fan base likely flocked from one rocker to another. Smithson was the dominant female voice on the show but had trouble in a variety of categories from wardrobe, to over singing, to caring too much what the judges said, to a rash that appeared to be overtaking her right arm. Overall, these two couldn't quite get it together and instead of a sing-off were instead relegated to a couple lyrics and then the fade into the background.

Despite greatly enjoying this season and the two part finale, I did have a few gripes with the season that I would be unfairly glossing over if I didn't comment on them.

For starters, the quality of judging is deteriorating rapidly. Much has been made of Paula Abdul's snafu in judging a song that has never been song. While the reasons for the boo-boo were later made public (last second changes, dress rehearsal viewing, etc.), it still was baffling that she couldn't tell what was live television and what wasn't. Be that as it may, no one expects anything from her and usually we get nothing in return. Yay for mediocrity. If she didn't follow Randy Jackson and have his comments to gently rework, I don't know if she is capable of an independent, original thought.

And Randy Jackson isn't necessarily a great judge to be echoing. The yo-yo-yo-yo-yo dawg shtick is really tiring on me. Sometimes he has something worthwhile to say which is fine, but the blithering start to his comments is frustratingly irrelevant. Then in the grandest moment of the season, Jackson used the "you could sing the phone book" cliche that if I hear one more time I will claw off my ears. Not only is that cliche stupid, it has been used countless times this season to describe Archuleta. Why not come up with something, ANYTHING different in the way of unique thought or descriptive adjective. Sorry dawg, not feeling it.

Mercifully, producers have said that next season the weekly result show will be scaled back from one hour to two. Those results shows are painfully long. Bring out the contestants, parade them around, remind everyone for the umpteenth time what they sang, take commercials, and have a couple mentors sing. All I need to know is who survived and who is out. Fortunately, we have 30 fewer minutes next year to do just that.

Overall, I loved this season as the diverse talent and optimal outcome contributed to what I thought was the best round of American Idol that I have seen. The minor flaws would appear in any show, especially after seven seasons of a predictable, yet undeniably successful formula. David Cook is a worthy champion who we'll see in a 3 minute performance at next year's finale. I just hope that's not the first or last we see of him in the meantime.

Photo from People.com