From FDR's final State of the Union address, 1/11/1944:

"It is our duty now to begin to lay the plans and determine the strategy for the winning of a lasting peace and the establishment of an American standard of living higher than ever before known. We cannot be content, no matter how high that general standard of living may be, if some fraction of our people—whether it be one-third or one-fifth or one-tenth—is ill-fed, ill-clothed, ill-housed, and insecure.

"This Republic had its beginning, and grew to its present strength, under the protection of certain inalienable political rights—among them the right of free speech, free press, free worship, trial by jury, freedom from unreasonable searches and seizures. They were our rights to life and liberty.

"As our nation has grown in size and stature, however—as our industrial economy expanded—these political rights proved inadequate to assure us equality in the pursuit of happiness.

"We have come to a clear realization of the fact that true individual freedom cannot exist without economic security and independence. 'Necessitous men are not free men.' People who are hungry and out of a job are the stuff of which dictatorships are made.

"In our day these economic truths have become accepted as self-evident. We have accepted, so to speak, a second Bill of Rights under which a new basis of security and prosperity can be established for all—regardless of station, race, or creed.

"Among these are:

• The right to a useful and remunerative job in the industries or shops or farms or mines of the nation;
  
  
• The right to earn enough to provide adequate food and clothing and recreation;
  
  
• The right of every farmer to raise and sell his products at a return which will give him and his family a decent living;
  
  
• The right of every businessman, large and small, to trade in an atmosphere of freedom from unfair competition and domination by monopolies at home or abroad;
  
  
• The right of every family to a decent home;
  
  
• The right to adequate medical care and the opportunity to achieve and enjoy good health;
  
  
• The right to adequate protection from the economic fears of old age, sickness, accident, and unemployment;
  
  
• The right to a good education.
  

"All of these rights spell security. And after this war is won we must be prepared to move forward, in the implementation of these rights, to new goals of human happiness and well-being.

"America’s own rightful place in the world depends in large part upon how fully these and similar rights have been carried into practice for our citizens."

Sixty-five years later, I still have hope.

*sigh!* Yes, yes... I know it's been over a month since I last sauntered over here to make a simple LiveJournal entry. What can I say? I'm a Facebook junkie now. If you want to experience my life as a steady stream of consciousness (though in a format not nearly as pointless and banal as Twitter), then you should be over there. Still, Facebook's "Notes" are a poor substitute for a full-fledged blog (and my LiveJournal posts automagically get posted over there via RSS anyway), so I won't be closing down my journal here... at least not yet. If that changes, I'll give everyone plenty of advance warning. (By "everyone," I mean the half-dozen people that actually read this thing.)

So what has happened over the past month?

On August 12th, Heidi and I celebrated our 20th wedding anniversary. Lord, that's a weird thing to wrap your head around. 20 years seems like an eternity (it's over half my lifetime, for pete's sake), and yet in many ways it seems like this all happened in the blink of an eye. We didn't have much in the way of resources to celebrate, so the prior weekend we went down to Cincinnati to visit my mom and brought along a tent we'd borrowed from friends. While the kids stayed inside, we pitched the tent in the back yard and had a lovely evening under the stars with a few bottles of wine. Unfortunately, we woke to sweltering heat at 8 a.m. the next morning and quickly went inside to cool off. But as far as cheap dates go, that was a fun one. Upon returning home, we did have a nice dinner at Carrabbas to cap the anniversary celebration, but then we had to prepare for the onslaught of back-to-school activities.

Finally, after weeks of orientations, meet-n-greets and sports camps, classes began on the 18th. Hannah settled right in... though of course, she's had three years of quality preschool education to prepare. She's already reading at a much more advanced rate than most (if not all) of her classmates. And her teacher is very nurturing, so this should be a very comfortable transition for her. We also celebrated her sixth birthday last week with a bowling party at Signature Lanes.

Meanwhile, Trevor has begun middle school, and we have enrolled him back at Trinity Lutheran (mostly because the notion of his attending West Side Middle School was too frightening). Luckily he has many friends there, and the ones he left behind at Feeser Elementary will rejoin him in two years at Memorial High School. Trinity has a good educational program... with the exception of the biology curriculum, but I'll save that rant for another day. Suffice to say we'll have some interesting dinner table discussions.

Anyway, Trinity does have sports but they don't have a full-fledged tackle football program (just a flag football club offered as an elective). So Trevor signed up with the Elkhart Club Football squad, which is intended especially for 7th to 9th graders who attend private schools without a football program or who are homeschooled--and they take this VERY seriously. Trevor has been beat to a pulp doing drills and scrimmages for weeks, but all that effort is starting to pay off. On Monday he traveled to my old stomping ground at Concord to take on the 7th grade team, and he started the game at the TE/SE position. On the first few plays he made some great blocks to seal off the perimeter... but then unfortunately he made an egregious false-start penalty, and the coach opted to bench him for the remainder of the half. Trevor was quite angry with himself, but channeled it into a redemptive second-half performance. He made two catches--one across the middle in traffic for four yards, and then another catch in the end zone for a PAT! They ended up winning 25-0. His next game is Monday against South Bend Clay.

Meanwhile, Kayla's years of attending cheerleading camps have finally paid off. Just today we received word that she is now a cheerleader at Feeser! Woo-hoo!!! She was pretty nervous throughout the whole tryout process, but ultimately her knowledge, athleticism and overwhelming cuteness won the day. *grin!* Now we have even MORE after-school events to attend... but it's worth it.

As for myself, aside from providing taxi service for all these budding young student athletes, I've been spending my time preparing for our eighteenth annual fantasy football draft! Many of you might remember that I was the runner-up in our 16-team league last year. We get to retain four of our players from the previous season, so I've got a very nice core unit of backs and receivers, but I still need a franchise QB, and it doesn't look like there will be much to choose from... particularly since I pick next-to-last. *grrrr...* But we shall see what happens this Sunday. Wish me luck!!!

As the refreshingly mild summer continues along, we find ourselves in a rare moment of downtime before the run-up to the onset of the new school year. Next week Trevor will endure three days of "boot camp" with the Elkhart Club Football program, where he has already established himself as a budding young wide receiver (and has been given jersey number 85 -- "Ocho-Cinco!"); Kayla will go to her annual cheerleading camp at Elkhart Memorial High School (in preparation for 5th grade tryouts this fall), and Hannah will have her own cheer camp plus vacation bible school on the horizon.

Of course, when we last left our heroes about two weeks ago, we were about to embark upon the four-game opening rounds of the Little League All-Stars tournament... but we shall not speak of this. Suffice to say that the 11-12 year-old team was young (which is to say, too much 11 and not enough 12) and never really gelled in time to play competitively. Next year, despite the loss of Scottie (who hit several home runs that week), we should be a better, more experienced team.

Anyway, after enduring the final humiliation in Middlebury on Thursday, we rose at an ungodly hour Friday morning, packed suitcases and kids into the minivan and departed for Maryland, making very good time and arriving at the Shore Leave convention just after 3:30 p.m. After showering and resting for a bit, we took the kids around to sample the vendors' wares (which is probably their favorite part of the con). Later, as the opening festivities got underway, I took in the hilarious "celebrity roast" of writer Keith R.A. Decandido while the rest of the clan tried out the hotel pool and hot tub. Then after Pocket Books announced their upcoming schedule for the next 18 months, I participated in the "Meet the Pros" book-signing for the second straight year.

The number of autograph seekers seemed markedly down this year, especially for me, since my novel is now almost a year old. Rest assured that I am working to rectify the situation, and I did spend a little time at the con rubbing elbows with the current editorial management to get a sense of what they might be looking for in the near future. Time will tell if it yields any results.

On Saturday, I was invited to participate in a "Smackdown!" panel discussion of the new Star Trek movie... which was fun, albeit a bit difficult to get a word in on a panel with Peter David (*grin!*) I did manage to convey my general appreciation for the film and for what the filmmakers tried to accomplish (with much success), while also pointing out that the film unfortunately carries on the time-honored tradition of creating villains with incomprehensible (or poorly explained) motivations. After escaping the throng of fans wanting to continue the discussion past the allotted time, I joined the family for another romp in the pool.

Later that evening we all attended the annual masquerade, though everyone but Kayla eventually got bored and retired back to our room. Once Kayla and I returned, Heidi and I put the kids to bed and went to "Vic's Place" for a little late night karaoke, where we all were briefly joined and entertained by Robert Picardo (the "Doctor" from Star Trek: Voyager). It was a late night, but we nonetheless got up early for the big yummy breakfast buffet; then another panel with fellow Myriad Universes authors Bill Leisner, Scott Pearson and Steve Mollmann; and finally we packed up and made the long trip home. The following week was still "vacation," but we spent it at home, relaxing and getting things done around the house.

On the final Friday of vacation, we took the kids to the opening day of the Elkhart County 4-H Fair, where the kids took advantage of the "wristbands" to ride everything in sight, including a nifty new water ride. Hannah was finally old enough to ride some of the bigger rides, although mom had to go all "Griswald" on a carney who wasn't going to let Hannah ride the ferris wheel without an adult. (Her response: "Put her on with an adult!" When the guy acted as if he didn't know what one looked like, several adults in the immediate area volunteered their services by raising their hands.) And I did buy a few tickets for myself to ride the "Freak Out" with Kayla, who remains the one child willing to seek out the maximum thrills.

And finally, on Saturday we attended a party with many old friends from high school that we hadn't seen in many years, hosted by friends with whom we spent time getting reacquainted at the city fireworks display on the weekend of the 4th. I hope to see them all again at a karaoke outing in less than two weeks, as such friendships continue to reveal their value over time, and should be continually nurtured and cherished.

First off, I cannot begin a sports-related post without congratulating Roger Federer on breaking Sampras's record for the most major tennis titles in a career. But damn... my boy Andy Roddick sure made him work for it. Roddick gave us one of the greatest Wimbledon finals ever, losing in the 5th set, 16-14 (!!!); and if he doesn't win the damn thing one of these years, it will be a crime against all humanity.

Anyway...

This is going to be the week from Hell. It's time for Little League All-Stars, and so Trevor has a game Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday... and then Friday we will be leaving for the Shore Leave convention near Baltimore in the wee hours of the morning.

It's been over a week since the regular season ended, and Trevor's Dodgers went out on a very positive note. The penultimate game was a week ago last Thursday, and Trevor got his third start on the mound this season... and ended up with his third win of the season! (Woo-hoo!!!) He was helped out by the unbelievable hitting of our shortstop, Scottie, who had nine RBIs on the day, including a grand slam homer in the second inning that put things out of reach very early-on. (He would have had 11 RBIs if he hadn't missed clearing the top of the fence by about a foot later in the fourth inning.) The team cruised to a 14-4 victory.

Then on Saturday we played our final game of the year at Edwardsburg, and even though Scottie missed the game due to a family vacation, the rest of the team was pumped and ready to play. The coach allowed all the 12 year-olds in their final game to bat at the top of the order, and kids who had struggled all year suddenly began hitting like madmen. We had the same crappy umpire who blew the call in our tournament game, and the guy remained true to form, failing to call obstruction while one of our runners literally had to climb over the catcher to reach home plate. But it didn't matter. By the end of the game, Trevor and most of the other 11 year-olds were watching from the bench as we capped things off, winning 16-4.

So the team finishes up with a winning record (7-6, including one forfeit). Trevor finishes the regular season with a batting average of exactly .500 -- second-best on the team (behind Scottie). His pitching ERA was an impressive 2.0 -- again, second-best (behind Scottie). All the final stats are uploaded here.

Now the "real" tournament begins. The first four games are in a round-robin format, so we'll at least be playing through Thursday. The first two are at home against Warsaw and Concord, then we're on the road against Goshen and Middlebury. If we finish in the top four out of the eleven teams in our district, we'll move on to the semifinals on Sunday (which Trevor, unfortunately, will miss due to our trip out East). Given the hectic schedule of the next few days, updates may be erratic, so check the Elkhart paper for the results.

As of yesterday, I have a new primary care physician. And I feel good about it. Not only does he seem competent and have a friendly manner about him, but I will no longer have to deal with the drama that my old doctor's staff seems to thrive upon.

For almost twenty years I had been a patient at Concord Family Medicine, mostly under the care of Dr. Sam Borrelli, but occasionally being seen by the other practitioners there as well. I really liked them all. But in recent years, things began to happen that made me question what was going on "behind the scenes," as it were.

The first sign of trouble was an incident with Heidi's sister, Cindy, about a year ago. She had also been a long-time patient of Borrelli (in fact, she may have originally recommended him to us). Not having insurance, she went to a free clinic for a routine GYN exam and decided to become a regular patient there strictly for that purpose. So the clinic, naturally, contacted her primary care physician to obtain copies of the relevant information from her medical records.

A few months later, Cindy contacted Concord Family Medicine to schedule an appointment with Borrelli... and she was completely shell-shocked when they told her that she was "no longer a patient there." When she pried for further details, the office manager informed her that they had transferred all of her records to another doctor, so "obviously" she had found another primary care physician, or else she was "doctor-hopping." Her attempts to explain that she ONLY sought GYN treatment fell upon deaf ears. They basically accused her of lying, refused to let her talk to the doctor or anyone else, and made it very clear that her years of being a loyal patient meant nothing. She was persona-non-grata, though she'd done nothing wrong.

You'd think it was a simple misunderstanding and would be easily resolved. The next time I met with Borrelli, I explained what had happened, and he agreed that Cindy should still be his patient. I stood there while he told a member of his staff to make sure that Cindy was reinstated as a patient, and I left feeling confident that the matter was resolved. But then Cindy called the office a week or so later, only to learn that nothing had changed. Apparently Borrelli's staff routinely ignores his instructions... OR... the office manager holds the power, either delegated or reserved, to overrule him.

To this day, I'm not sure which is true. But one thing is certain: The office manager at Concord Family Medicine has a God complex, and is on a personal crusade to weed out of her patient pool all of the people whom she personally feels are undeserving of treatment.

Over the past two years, I have covered myself and our kids under my employer's insurance, while Heidi has covered herself under hers. Heidi's coverage is cheap, but isn't very good (i.e., high deductible, then just 80/20 or worse, etc.). Over time, the added expenses began to build up a small balance on Heidi's account. Not a lot, mind you--less than a few hundred dollars--but initially we were unsure as to exactly how much we were responsible for, and then it took us a month or so to work the payments into our budget. But at no time were we unwilling to pay or to cooperate on a schedule.

Suddenly, one day we received a letter. The letter declared, without justification, that the account was delinquent; and without any suggestion of compromise announced that Heidi had been dropped as a patient. Well, I should clarify... They didn't mention Heidi by name. But logically, it was her balance (though no fault of her own), so she would be the patient who was dropped. Right? We were upset about this. It was stupid. But the fact was, we had planned to pay off the balance by the end of the month (which, incidentally, we did). So perhaps Heidi would be able to mend fences with them once everything was squared away.

About a month later, I attempted to refill one of my cholesterol meds only to discover that the refills had expired. Granted, it was foolish of me not to have kept on top of the situation. As I've explained before on this journal, I suffer from severe hypertriglyceridemia--a condition that can have very serious medical consequences without regular treatment. In fact, the one time in 2006 when I went off my meds, I ended up in the hospital with acute pancreatitis and had to be fed intravenously for two weeks. So naturally, it was vitally important to get a new scrip as quickly as possible.

The drugstore contacted the doctor's office but couldn't obtain authorization for the refill, so I contacted the office directly. At first they seemed willing to give me a month of meds provided that I came in for updated lab work, but the receptionist was unable to find my medical file, so she had to call me back. When she did, I was horrified to discover that my file was closed. They had dropped me as a patient even though my own account was in perfect standing. When I found my voice, I asked them if they would be kind enough to authorize a month of medication while I looked for a new doctor. After the receptionist discussed the matter with the aforementioned office manager from Hell, she called me back to inform me that she had refused. Just like that. My health be damned; my longtime loyalty notwithstanding... They were done with me, and if I ended up hospitalized as a result, well, that was my own f**king problem.

So many emotions were swirling though my mind... betrayal, anger, fear for my health, and confusion regarding how to proceed. I took the rest of the day off work and began to drive around town, quite literally looking for any doctor that would take me on as a new patient. I eventually found myself at the Elkhart Clinic--a huge facility with a large staff, and thankfully they had a doctor of internal medicine, Dr. Pavan Ahuja, who was willing to see me the following day. He was young but seemed very thorough and helpful, and wrote me new scrips without hassle, even throwing in some free coupons.

Now that it's all overwith, I'm sure this is all for the best. I have no desire to return to a facility where the staff displays a callous and completely unprofessional disregard for my well-being. I still respect Dr. Borrelli as a physician and I am thankful for the fine treatment he gave me through the years, but if he cannot control the unethical behavior of his own staff, I cannot recommend that anyone else take such a gamble with their healthcare.

Man, it's hot out... but then, so is Trevor's Little League team.

It's been awhile, so I guess it's time for an update. And it's good news, too... After the abysmal start to the year, the team now has a 5-6 record and a chance to end up with a winning season!

After the heartbreaking loss in the mid-season tournament, our manager tried to reschedule some of our missed games but the weather refused to cooperate. So we had an extended layoff before finally getting back onto the field against the Edwardsburg Snowmobile Club on the 18th. As could be expected, the rust was very much in evidence. Eventually Trevor was called up to the mound for clean-up duty in the 5th inning, and only gave up one hit and no runs, but by then the damage had already been done. We lost 12-7.

On Saturday the 20th, Trevor got the start on the mound for only the second time this year, this time against Cleveland's Between the Buns Reds. Initially, our guys still appeared to be mired in the same funk we'd seen in the previous game. The first inning on defense was a comedy of errors, and three runs ended up scoring, though only one was earned--the others resulting entirely from passed balls and overthrown bases.

But then things began to turn around. Trevor settled in and pitched brilliantly in the 2nd and 3rd innings, and our fielders started making plays when needed. And best of all, we started hitting like madmen. Scottie (our most talented player by far) had three hits on the day, including a three-run homer over the left-field fence. Even the kids who normally struggle were making contact and getting on base. The other team's pitching struggles helped us, to be sure. All totaled, we got 11 hits and 10 walks that day... plus one base awarded to us on a pitch that hit one of our batters.

Oh, and that batter was Trevor. He got walked in his first two plate appearances, and then in the bottom of the third he turned his back on an inside pitch, and ended up taking it in the back of his neck. Luckily the helmet absorbed some of the blow, but he still collapsed to the ground, momentarily stunned. He was okay, but sat out the rest of the game as a precaution. The rest of the team stepped up, and the reliever (Brett) quickly dispatched three straight batters in the fourth, and we got the 15-4 win.

At this point, we had four wins on the season including the forfeited game at Edwardsburg, and in two of the three games actually played the winning pitcher was Trevor. We discovered the following day that Trevor had been selected for the 11-12 All-Stars team! Woo-hoo!!!

Last night the temperature at game time was 92 degrees when we took the field against the Best Formed Plastics A's--the team generally accepted as the most talented at Cleveland. The first time we played them, it was a heartbreaking 3-4 loss. But this time, despite the heat, our kids seemed ready to go out there and prove themselves.

Much like the first time we played the A's, the game was a defensive struggle due to some outstanding pitching on both sides. Scottie started for us and was lights-out, with 13 strikeouts and only one earned run. We continued to hit well, with eight hits on the day, but we ended up stranding a lot of runners on base. But Trevor was the early hero, hitting doubles in each of his first two at-bats, and each time driving in an RBI. In the bottom of the sixth, the game was tied at 2, and we had the last at-bat. Riley gave us a lead-off double--his first extra-base hit of the year. For our next batter, we made a late substitution, but he struck out... although a passed ball advanced Riley to third. That brought us back to the top of the order, although the batter, Trey, was 0-3 on the day. He quickly fouled off a couple of balls and found himself in the hole. Despite only having one out, I started to have doubts that we could pull this off. They were unfounded. Trey ripped a grounder through the gap in the infield, and we had defeated the A's, 3-2. Yah, boi!!!

We now have another game at home tonight (weather permitting), and the final game of the season at Edwardsburg on Saturday. Go Dodgers!!!

Yesterday in South Bend, a 67 year-old man was attempting to park his car at a Family Dollar store when he accidentally stomped on the accelerator instead of the brake and crashed through the front of the building, hitting a woman and her two young daughters. No one was killed, but the mother is in critical condition and her five year-old daughter is in stable condition.

No charges will be filed as a result of this incident. Why? Because driving while aged, addled and basically a dangerous menace to society is not a crime. Every day the Indiana Bureau of Motor Vehicles renews licenses for elderly people who cannot see, have horrendous reaction times, and with each passing day get more and more confused by the simple mechanics of operating a car. And the result is that people get maimed or killed.

Don't misunderstand; I'm not painting all elderly drivers with the same brush. Some 80 year-olds out there are undoubtedly better drivers than the average 20 year-old. But in the state of Indiana, no effort is made to determine who should be given a license and who shouldn't, and as a result, these tragic accidents are almost a daily occurrence around here. And certain drivers in Indiana have taken advantage of our lackadaisical attitude toward dangerous and impaired driving to the point of craven indifference.

One month ago in South Bend, 56 year-old Leroy Hoover was driving through a residential area when he struck two girls, ages 6 and 4. The four year-old was killed; the six year-old remains in critical condition with slim chance for survival and zero chance of a normal life. The driver then attempted to leave the scene of the accident until a neighbor with a handgun intercepted him, at which point Mr. Hoover allegedly defended his actions by claiming that the girls had "jumped out in front of him."

But guess what? The prosecutor, Michael Dvorak (574-235-9544) isn't pressing any charges. Apparently, it's just A-OK in St. Joseph County to run over two little girls and then drive away, provided they had "jumped out in front" of you. Or maybe we have a double-standard when it comes to vehicular homicide. You see, if Leroy Hoover would have blown a BAC of .08 he would have been hauled off to jail immediately. If they had found a half-gram of pot in his ashtray, they would have called out the Feds and raided his home. But if he gets behind the wheel of a vehicle knowing fully well that he cannot see due to advanced glaucoma and often suffers seizures, and then tries to flee after killing a little girl, THAT'S PERFECTLY OKAY! I'm sorry, but have we lost our f**king minds here? Have we no sense of right and wrong, or what constitutes culpability for one's actions in our society?

Oh, but wait... it gets better. It turns out that Mr. Hoover has a long and storied history of endangering innocent people. A TV news reporter discovered that he has been cited for:

• leaving the scene of an accident in 1986, and not having insurance,
  
• hitting a 13-year-old boy in his own yard in 1996 when Hoover lost control of his van,
  
• driving over a curb and hitting a telephone pole in 1999, once again without insurance,
  
• allegedly backing into a gas pump at a Speedway station in 2005, then leaving the scene.

And yet this guy remains a free man with full driving privileges. I wonder who he will kill next. Maybe it will be a member of MY family.

Before you respond, please think twice if you're going to feed me some garbage about "respect for the elderly" and "preserving their dignity" or some such rot. If an elderly person has no concern for the safety of others, then they have no dignity and they certainly don't have my respect. If you can't drive, then stay the hell off the road. I would rather have a highway full of drivers with a .08 BAC than one hoary old coot with a deathwish just looking for his next victim.

To say that this Little League season is frustrating for Trevor is an understatement. Granted, he's won a trophy in four of the five previous years he's played, so he's probably due for some bad karma. But the team (now 2-6 on the year) has lost three games by just a single run, and the tournament game played on Sunday was one of those losses that just leaves one scratching his head, wondering how the hell that one got away.

As with any tournament game, the need to plan for multiple games on consecutive days really hamstrings you with regard to pitching. A pitcher who throws more than 20 pitches in a game cannot pitch on the following day, and throwing more than 45 pitches means that the pitcher must rest for two calendar days AND cannot pitch in the next game, whenever it might be. So even though we started Scottie, our best pitcher, on the mound in our game against the Elkhart F.O.P., our use of him was limited. He was brilliant through three innings, giving up no runs, but then we had to pull him in the fourth once he reached his 45-pitch plateau. Our reliever was less effective, giving up two runs before settling down. Still, we went into the sixth inning with a solid 5-2 lead.

Trevor was terrific at the plate, going 3-for-3. But in the bottom of the fifth, with the bases loaded and Trevor on third, he ran for home on a passed ball. The F.O.P.'s pitcher ran up to cover home, and the catcher chased down the ball and flipped it to the pitcher just as Trevor was sliding into the plate. The pitcher caught the ball with his foot on the plate but made no attempt to lean down to make the tag. Our dugout burst into cheering... until the umpire made the call.

"Out."

WTF?

It was all I could do not to burst into an obscenity-laced tirade, but rest assured that I was pretty animated, screaming about the fact that there was no tag. Now, I know fully well why the umpire screwed up. The bases were loaded, so if the batter hits a fair ball there's a force at home. But the batter didn't hit anything. It was a passed ball. So there was no force, which meant that a tag must be applied. But the call stood, and so instead of being up by four runs, we were up by only three.

And it really, really sucks when that ends up being the difference in the game.

In the top of the sixth, our reliever ran out of pitches, so Trevor was brought up as a closer with one out and one man on base. We just needed two outs and the game was over. He struck out the first batter. He walked the second, but only because the umpire began calling a strike zone that defied any consistent rational explanation. Then the F.O.P.'s best hitter--one of those twelve year-old freaks of nature who probably carries around his birth certificate to prove his age--loped up to the plate. Coaches and parents alike vocally suggested walking the kid to load up the bases with two out, but Trevor was directed to pitch to him. One fast ball down the middle... (God, I hate having this image in my head...) and the kid ripped a line-drive over the left field fence for a three run homer. Tie game. F**K.

To his credit, Trevor kept his head and struck out the next batter. We still had the opportunity to win in the bottom of the sixth, but despite being at the top of our batting order, we couldn't get anything done on offense. So we went into extra innings.

Trevor's frustration continued. We had to pull him off the mound before he threw 21 pitches, but for some reason he was sent to third base--a position he hasn't played since T-ball. And sure enough, he had an opportunity to make a play on a runner who was stealing third, but with the instincts of a first baseman he put the wrong foot on the bag and turned the wrong way with the ball. Still, despite resorting to our fourth and fifth pitchers, we managed to escape the top of the seventh only giving up one run, which was probably the best we could have hoped for.

In the bottom of the seventh, Trevor was the first batter up. Again, he kept his composure and got to first base on a walk. A couple of passed balls during the next two at-bats advanced him to third, where he stood silently pleading for someone to bat him home and tie the game. But we wouldn't get another hit. The game ended, 6-5... despite the fact that we had nine hits to their four and no errors.

For what it's worth, that F.O.P. team went on to reach the quarterfinals of the tournament, where they lost (as does everyone) to one of the juggernaut teams from Middlebury. In fact, the semifinals are being played tonight, and the matchups are Middlebury #3 vs. Middlebury #1, and Middlebury #4 vs. Middlebury #6. I don't know what the hell is in the water over in that town, but I think it must be steroids. They take this shit way too seriously.

Anyway, Trevor remains in fairly good spirits despite having endured what will likely have been the most hopelessly maddening sports defeat of his life. This is still a young team, and clearly we can play with anyone if only we can buy a break once in a blue moon. Things can only get better.

Have you ever had that feeling that baseball ruled your life? You would, after getting up at 7 a.m. for a Little League game, then later spending three hours working the concession stand at the ballpark, and finally going to a friend's open house celebration for their son, who just got an athletic scholarship to play baseball at Goshen College.

But let's back up a bit.

The week prior to this past one, Trevor had quite possibly the best two-game stretch of his Little League career thus far. After pitching the shutout game for his team on Thursday, he returned to his normal position at first base on Saturday (against the very talented A's) and made three putouts; and over those two games he was 3-of-4 at the plate plus a walk. Not only that, in that second game he drove in all three of his team's RBI's; but unfortunately, they gave up the winning run in the bottom of the sixth, losing 4-3.

The next game was this past Wednesday in Edwardsburg. Trevor came to the mound in the fourth inning and once again was brilliant, striking out eight batters over the last three innings and giving up no earned runs. However, suddenly he found himself struggling with his hitting again, striking out in all three of his plate appearances. And the team as a whole returned to their error-filled ways on defense, resulting in a 6-3 loss, and bringing the team's overall record to 2-5.

This morning we made the trek back to Edwardsburg for a scheduled 9 a.m. game, only to discover that they had no field available for us to play on. Apparently the opposing coach knew about this ahead of time and informed the rest of his team, because they were all no-shows. But the guy didn't have the common decency to inform OUR coach, so our entire team was there wandering around wondering what was going on, until our coach called theirs and woke up his stupid ass. As far as I'm concerned, this game is ours by forfeit. We were there in good faith ready to play, whereas they weren't, and they made no effort to contact us about rescheduling. If anyone even suggests making this game up, I'm raising nine kinds of hell.

But the good news is that all of our pitchers will be available for our first game tomorrow in the mid-season President's Tourney, where all of the teams in the Indiana-14 district compete in a single-elimination tournament. Stay tuned for all the exciting results.

The all-Trevor show continues...

Wednesday night was the occasion of Trevor's "graduation" from elementary school. They didn't go nucking futs with caps and gowns or anything like that, but they did have a stage set up in the gym onto which the kids were called up to receive their "diplomas." They also gave out several awards, and Trevor was one of only nine students at Feeser to receive the President's Award for Educational Excellence, given for overall academic achievement from grades 4th through 6th. We definitely need to get ourselves some more document frames.

The last day of school for Trevor and Kayla was yesterday, so of course lots of tearful good-byes were said. This was especially hard for Trevor, as next year he'll be attending Trinity Lutheran School, whereas most of the other Feeser kids (including his current girlfriend) will be attending West Side Middle School. But he will, in fact, be reunited with many of his old friends who transferred to Trinity over the past few years, as well as the kids who remember him from third grade (when Trevor previously attended Trinity for a year). And of course, after two more years, nearly all of these kids will end up together at Elkhart Memorial High School. The only downside is that Trinity lacks a football program, so we'll gave to find a league in the area for his age group to keep him active until high school.

And speaking of athletics, Trevor got the start on the mound for his Cleveland Little League Dodgers last night, versus the visiting team from Edwardsburg. He was in a bit of pain, having gouged up the flesh beneath his left knee in a bicycle mishap on Tuesday, and was uncertain as to how much flexibility he would have during his wind-ups. So how did he do in his first start at the Major Baseball level? Well, let's see... he pitched a complete game no-hitter for starts. WOO-HOO!!! At the plate he had a base hit, a walk and scored a run. And in perfectly poetic fashion, he caught an infield fly for the final out in the fourth inning, ending the game with a final score of 10-0. So, um... yeah, I guess he did okay. *grin!* The next game is Saturday, so stay tuned.

As I'm sure you're all aware, yesterday the California Supreme Court upheld the voter-enacted ban of same-sex marriage, although they did exhibit the tiniest shred of compassion by recognizing the existing marriages performed prior to the enactment of the ban. So now those who support civil rights for all people must look toward 2010, by which time the voters may have realized the depth of the lies and the fearmongering that was perpetrated by the wealthy far-right religious groups, most of whom came to California from other states (notably Utah).

But why wait until 2010? It seems to me that the civil rights groups are going about this the wrong way. There's no point in trying to overturn the bans outright, especially not at the state level. After all, several states were still banning interracial marriage until the late 1960s, when the U.S. Supreme Court finally said "enough is enough" after a battle that had been waged for nearly a century. No, I think that the gays and lesbians should embrace the laws as written. A marriage has to be between a "man" and a "woman"? No problem! Oh, by the way... What exactly do those terms mean, anyway?

You see, in order for a particular law to be enforceable, it must be universally applicable. If the law applies to some people but not others, then it is a violation of the Equal Protection clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. So in order for the bans against same-sex marriage to pass muster, one must legally define what constitutes a "man" and a "woman."

Do you think I'm being silly? Facetious? Do you? Let me ask you a question. How do YOU define "man" and "woman"? Think carefully before you answer.

The temptation, of course, is to seek out a biological definition -- something clear and unambiguous that can be codified without any argument. After all, we can't have these transvestites out there pretending to be something that they're not, duping the courts into giving them marriage licenses despite having the wrong set of genitalia. Luckily, genetic testing will provide the answer! After all, girls have a set of "XX" chromosomes, and boys have "XY" chromosomes. So there's the definition! *WHEW!* That was easy! Once we've established a legal, binding definition of gender (i.e., "man" and "woman"), now we can enforce the law.

Or can we? Here's some interesting information you might not have considered.

First of all, not everyone has a chromosomal makeup of "XX" or "XY." In fact, in one of every 500 male births, the child has an extra "X" chromosome -- a condition known as Klinefelter's syndrome. One in 1000 males will have an "XYY" makeup. Other combinations, such as "XXX" or "XXYY" are also possible.

Granted, in the above cases, the presence of the "Y" chromosome usually means that the person will have the outward appearance of a male. So then, a "Y" means you're a male, right? Not so fast. Here are some commonly diagnosed conditions (i.e., > 1 per 10000 births) where the chromosomal makeup of an individual turns out to be irrelevant or contrary to the person's established gender:

De La Chapelle syndrome - People with this condition have two "X" chromosomes, making them genetically female. And yet, their physiology is entirely male, although following puberty they may suffer from small testes, large breasts and/or sterility. Everyone with this condition lives their lives as a male, despite their chromosomal makeup. However, if by law we are defining gender in terms of "XX" and "XY" genotype, then legally a person with this condition is female and cannot marry another female, despite the fact that they have a penis.

Congenital adrenal hyperplasia - Infants born with this condition have two "X" chromosomes and nearly all of the internal physiology is female as well. But due to the failure to develop a natural steroid hormone, babies are born with ambiguous genitalia. About 10% of cases involve "complete male virilization" in the womb, where the clitoris grows to the point where it is essentially a penis, the vaginal opening closes shut, and the labia distend like a scrotum. In other words, even though the baby is female, s/he has entirely male genitalia. Extreme cases such as this are rarely diagnosed at birth. Sometimes the child will be raised as a boy until puberty, when it becomes obvious that the child is developing female characteristics. At that point, the choices are gender "reassignment" (complete with reconstructive surgery), or a lifetime of hormonal therapy and infertility. Are you prepared to make some sanctimonious judgment as to who this person should marry? Under the law, they would have no choice but to marry a man, even though they were raised as a male child.

Androgen insensitivity syndrome - This is essentially the opposite of the previous condition. This baby will have an "XY" genotype and the internal organs of a male, including undescended testes. But outwardly, the baby will have a vagina and an extremely undersized penis, indistinguishable from a clitoris. Such a baby is usually raised female, despite the lack of a uterus or ovaries. But then the same problems (and choices) must be faced when puberty hits. Is this baby male or female? Who does the law say they must marry?

Sywer syndrome - Children born with this condition have an "XY" genotype, thus are genetically male, but externally they have normal female genitalia. Internally, they will have a cervix, uterus and fallopian tubes, but no ovaries, and therefore will not develop any secondary sex characteristics at puberty. Children with this condition are always raised as girls; indeed, there's no logical reason not to, even though they are genetically male. Does the law demand that they marry another girl?

These are only a few of the possible intersex conditions a person may have that renders moot the presumed "clarity" of the chromosomal makeup. And these conditions are not rare. In the U.S. alone, more than 50,000 people have one of the above (or similar) conditions which essentially compels the person to live their lives with a gender identity that conflicts with their genotype. Any law that restricts marriage to a "man" and a "woman," and then defines these terms according to their chromosomal pairs, is unworkable, and clearly a violation of the civil rights of any individual who has such a condition.

So then... If these laws are to remain on the books, and we cannot use chromosomes to define gender, then how does one define it??? If it can't be done medically, the only other option is to define it based upon the outward appearance of the genitalia. Do you really think that will solve anything? About 1 in 100 babies are born exhibiting some degree of sexual ambiguity, and about 1 in 500 require some type of medical correction, either chemical or surgical. In about 1 in 5000 cases, the ambiguity is so pronounced that the doctor cannot determine the sex of the newborn child without a barrage of tests. In about 1 in 20000 cases, even the test results are so conflicting that the gender assignment more-or-less is decided by the parents with a coin flip. That's over 200 births per year in the USA where a "traditional" gender assignment is completely arbitrary and artificial. And yet these pious nutcases still insist that the presence of a dick or a pussy is the ONE, SINGLE, OVERRIDING factor in determining whether or not a marriage is sanctified by God, or an abomination against all humanity.

Why, why, WHY has nobody taken this issue before a judge? All it takes is one person... one brave individual with true hermaphroditism to go into a courtroom, sporting both a fully formed vagina as well as a functional penis, and ask the world... "You seem to know so much about this man/woman thing... SO WHAT THE HELL AM I? WHO DOES THE LAW SAY I AM ALLOWED TO MARRY???" And if that court cannot make a determination... If they cannot define "man" and "woman" in such a manner that treats every person EQUAL and FAIR under the laws of the land and the U.S. Constitution, then the laws outlawing so-called "same-sex marriage" are unworkable, unenforceable and MUST be struck down.

And then maybe we can agree that we are all HUMAN BEINGS, and when two of us choose to marry and share the benefits thereof, the junk that we carry around in our skivvies doesn't really mean a goddamn thing.

Today is actually a big news day, what with Obama nominating a Supreme Court Justice and California upholding Prop 8, and you can be sure I'll have opinions on both matters in due time.

But for now, we need to recap the Memorial Day weekend, beginning with Trevor's triumphant return to Little League competition on Saturday: They got their first win of the season, beating the Edwardsburg E.P.S. team, 5-4! Woo-hoo!!! Trevor had a base hit and scored a run. He didn't pitch, but the coach has said that he'll get the start on the mound in Thursday's game this week.

Later that night, Heidi and I went out to B.J. Stars, ostensibly for a "reunion" of some old classmates from Concord High School who now interact on Facebook. The invitation was open, however, so other friends and family made appearances... while the guy who actually organized the event--a neighbor of mine who grew up with me in the 'burbs south of Elkhart--never showed up at all. It was great to see old faces again. And of course, the featured entertainment was karaoke, so I obliged with my old standbys (e.g., "Lightning Crashes" by Live; and "I Love You" by the Climax Blues Band, which was the first song Heidi and I danced to at our wedding), plus some new additions to my repertoire (including a rather frenzied rendition of "Head Like a Hole" by NIИ). Not to mention the duets with Joyce, plus Heidi's stirring performance (compliments of vodka and cranberry) of "Black Water" by the Doobie Brothers, with Joyce and I providing accompaniment.

Sunday was a more relaxing day, with such exciting activities as laundry and grocery shopping. And Monday, of course, was Memorial Day, which we celebrated at our cousins' home (with other family) by overindulging in a lot of grilled food and beverages. Today, it's back to the grind, though the shortened work week provides some level of comfort.

Number of Little League games scheduled up to this point: 5
Number that have actually been played: 3
Number that Trevor has been able to play in: 1
The team's record: 0-3
Number of earned runs given up by our pitchers: Oh, probably 3 or 4
Number of fielding errors: about 57

Needless to say, the beginning of the season has been a bit frustrating for everyone. Of the first four games on the schedule, only one (eleven days ago at Edwardsburg) was played as scheduled. Two games were postponed by us because we didn't think we could field enough players due to school conflicts (which may or may not have truly been the case, but anyway...), and one was postponed by an Edwardsburg team. One of the games was rescheduled for this past Sunday, when we had already planned Trevor's 12th birthday party. And then last night's game was the same night as Trevor's final band concert of the year. Hopefully the worst is now behind us. The next game is Saturday, and perhaps the team can start to pull things together, because we're really too talented a team to be struggling like this.

The good news is that the weekend was fun for us. On Saturday, Kayla went on an overnight field trip to the Field Museum in Chicago with her Girl Scout troop, where they were "Dozin' with the Dinos!". (Too bad Ben Stiller wasn't there, or things might have been really interesting.) On Sunday, we rented a pavilion for Trevor's party at Ox-Bow Park, adjacent to a playground for the little ones and a huge field for the older kids to run around like madmen. Weather was perfect for sports and the grilling of hot dogs (complete with our elitist librul Dijon mustard). And Monday night, Hannah attended her pre-K "graduation," where the kids all dressed up as animals for a Noah's Ark theme (Hannah was a butterfly) before they received their "diplomas." As Mr. Incredible would say, "It's psychotic!"... but in a good way. *grin!*

Now that the band concert is out of the way, tonight will be the first night in awhile that we can actually RELAX. I foresee an evening of folding laundry and (hopefully) watching Adam Lambert win American Idol. Summer can't get here fast enough!

Happy day to all you mothers out there!

The day thus far has been fairly relaxed, for Mom as well as the rest of the gang... which is quite welcome after the non-stop schedule we endured yesterday. Trevor played his first Little League game in cold, windy weather against an Edwardsburg team that has been in the news as of late, and sadly we discovered that our hitting sucks. In six innings we managed to get a total of three kids on base. Our pitchers, including Trevor, did well, but our fielding was a comedy of errors, and we ended up losing 5-0.

After the game, we went to a birthday party for one of our grand-nieces, and then took Hannah to a friend's birthday party at Gymnastics Michiana. When we finally arrived back at home, we headed right back out the door (with Kayla in tow) to the local Carmike Cinema to see the new Star Trek motion picture.

Now, granted, even though the local theater is a short drive from home, we much prefer to go to the Cinemark in Mishawaka. There are many reasons for this, not the least of which I detailed in a blog post two years ago, but this time we were too tired to make the drive. At least our Carmike theater now has DLP projection, though I was a bit annoyed by the fact that the screens have a 16:9 aspect ratio (instead of the full cinematic 2.39:1) and that they cropped off the edges of the frame to make things fit. grrrrr...

Regarding the film... Overall, I enjoyed it a lot. It was a fun thrill-ride, offering enough action and intrigue to entertain today's ADHD-addled generation, while still respectful enough of the source material to keep the "classic" fans in the fold. What problems I did have must be broken down into two categories: Internal problems involving realism and silly plot contrivances (which would affect the enjoyment for any viewer); versus conflicts with known canon which will only annoy the fanboys, but which professional tie-in writers (like myself) will have to be prepared to reconcile in some believable way.

[Spoilers will follow. You have been warned.]

My biggest issue with the plot itself--a complaint that Heidi also voiced without any prompting from me--is that when examined objectively, it boils down to a series of increasingly improbable events that simply must occur in order to get Kirk in command of the Enterprise. In fact, once Kirk meets "Spock Prime", this becomes an outright mandate, requiring Kirk to engage in some pretty reprehensible behavior simply to further this conceit.

All of this might have been forgivable if not for the final scene, where realism is completely abandoned as they give command of the fleet's shiniest new vessel to an insubordinate cadet whose command experience consists of one single battle against a megalomaniac with self-destructive tendencies. Why was this necessary? I understand that they want to have "Captain Kirk" ready to roll for the next film, but they could have accomplished the same thing in a sensible manner by merely moving the story ahead a few years. So instead of Kirk growing as a character and earning his command, he instead becomes the proverbial "Chosen One," who ends up the hero simply because it is predestined to be so.

This problem extends to the rest of the cast as well. Why is the command crew of the Enterprise comprised entirely of cadets? It was one thing in The Wrath Of Khan when the ship had been recommissioned as a training vessel, but this is the maiden voyage of the flagship in the midst of a planetary crisis on Vulcan. These choices by the scriptwriters only gave the naysayers more grounds to claim that the new franchise is in fact "90210 In Space."

I give the writers due props for coming up with a way to "reboot" the franchise, thus giving themselves complete creative control over its future, while retaining an "in-universe" explanation for the changes. They certainly made this abundantly clear in the dialogue. However, the explanations for how this came to pass, including the motivations of Nero, were somewhat wanting. Yes, a lot of this is explained in the graphic novel Countdown, but only a tiny fraction of the moviegoers will have read it. A better way to begin the movie would have been in the 23rd century timeframe, so we could see the roots of Nero's motivations first-hand, rather than gleaning everything later in a 30-second mind meld.

Having said all that... yes, the movie strains credibility at times, but what film doesn't? All this can be overlooked if the film serves its purpose, which is to reinvigorate the franchise and expand the fanbase. On those counts, it appears to be succeeding, and for that I am content. So now allow me to venture deep into the realm of geekdom, where we must analyze and reconcile the potential contradictions with known canon:

* CHEKOV'S AGE. This is a genuine problem. Canonically, Chekov is considerably younger than the rest of the crew; in fact, he's twelve years younger than Kirk. Kirk is 25 years old in this film. Somehow I don't think Starfleet generally gives the job of navigator aboard the flagship to barely-pubescent young boys. The only possible in-universe explanation is that, somehow, the destruction of the Kelvin resulted in Chekov's birth (in Russia?) occurring at least five years earlier. That should make for an interesting tale.

* CONSTRUCTION OF THE ENTERPRISE. In the original (i.e., "Prime") timeline, the ship was launched on or around 2245. In the "new" timeline, the construction apparently was delayed by about ten years, making Christopher Pike the first captain instead of Robert April. Presumably that extra decade in the design phase led to the much more "futuristic" look of the new ship. The question is, why? Wouldn't the destruction of the Kelvin and the unknown fate of its assailant have led to an accelerated timetable for the ship's construction? And... why Iowa, instead of in space, where it makes a hell of a lot more sense?

* SHUTTLECRAFT. The Kelvin had a buttload of shuttlecraft on board, which conveniently facilitated the crew's escape. The new Enterprise had a similarly stocked shuttlebay. But in the old "prime" timeline, this wasn't the case at all. Starships had only a handful of shuttles, and typically used escape pods for evacuation. This can't be explained away as a consequence of Nero's interference, because construction of the Kelvin preceded his arrival, and therefore the ship had all of these shuttles in both timelines. So apparently, something happened in the "prime" timeline, prior to the construction of the Enterprise, to foster the idea that bunches of shuttles were no longer necessary.

* "TRANSWARP" BEAMING: Plenty of times in Trek history, the writers have contrived silly technology to be used simply as a plot device. But this one is huge--nothing less than a massive game-changer. With nothing more than some fuzzy math equations invented by Scotty in the prime timeline (apparently sometime after the events of Nemesis, since we'd otherwise never heard of it), we can now beam a person anywhere in the universe. That will not do. We need to establish some severe limitations upon this technology, and the sooner the better.

* PLANET "DELTA VEGA": No, this is NOT the same "Delta Vega" where Gary Mitchell was marooned in "Where No Man Has Gone Before." That was near the outer edge of the galaxy. This "planet" is apparently so close to Vulcan that the image of Vulcan's destruction filled the sky from Spock's vantage point on the surface. Get a clue, people... Vulcan has no moon, but it does have a sister planet, seen in "Yesteryear" and the original edition of "The Motion Picture." The fiction refers to it as "T'Khut," so it's too bad the writers didn't pick up on that, but we'll just say it's a different designation.

That's all I can think of right now, but I'm sure more issues will crop up, especially if I ever get a chance to write something in this universe again.

Granted, this blog is beginning to sound like the "All-Trevor Journal," but what can I say... He's earning his props!

On Monday night Trevor was invited to the Elkhart Community Schools' "Celebration of Excellence" award ceremony at Memorial High School. He was presented this award for not only having achieved a GPA of over 3.5, but also for outstanding achievement in the performing arts.



The evening included a performance by the Memorial Jazz Ensemble and a motivational speech by local sportscaster Chuck Freeby. (Chuck was also the director of one of those "Women's Counseling" clinics, and ran an "abstinence-only" sex-ed program for Catholic schools... but let's not go there.) So the program had run a little long by the time all the kids had walked across the stage. But the length was not what annoyed us.

Before the kids were called up by name to receive their certificates, the director informed the audience that they would have to forego the traditional handshakes with the superintendent and speakers because of... (wait for it...) the outbreak of the SWINE FLU. Are you effing kidding me??? Not since 9/11 have I experienced such an outlandish media-induced panic about a non-existent threat. Do you know how many people in the U.S. die every year from the plain-old regular flu? About 30,000! And how many people in the U.S. have died from the horrible plague known as the swine flu? One. ONE! "Swine flu" my ass. I'm more concerned about spontaneous human combustion. But I digress...

Anyway, we rewarded Trevor with dinner at the Chinese buffet, then picked up the girls at grandma's and got home way too late (thus missing "24"... dammit).

Then yesterday, Trevor had his last "exhibition" game before the official start of the Little League season (which happens this Saturday at Edwardsburg, MI). This game was a full 6-inning rematch with the A's, and this time our boys prevailed, 6-4. Trevor pitched two full innings without giving up a hit or a run, then started to lose his stuff and gave up two runs before being pulled. Still, based upon his work thus far, he's got a projected ERA of 3.3--not too shabby! Oddly, he's struggling a bit with his hitting, but this is just a case of correcting his mechanics and getting his confidence back. I have no doubt that he'll be back in the groove quite soon, and the Excellent Adventure will continue. *grin!*

The weekend began in a manner that has become more and more common as of late: Another night of karaoke, this time once again at B.J. Stars. The birthday of our friend Joyce was the occasion, so we were joined by her and her husband. Others joining us for the sonic experience were Heidi's sister Cindy and her friend Missy, Nicole (from the library) and her new BF, our cousins Rich and Christine, and a friend I hadn't seen since my high school years, Maria, along with her two siblings and their significant others.

Even though the place was packed, surprisingly the singing rotation was fairly light, and I had the opportunity to do five songs, mostly chosen from my own collection: "Sorry" by Buckcherry, "Yellow Ledbetter" by Pearl Jam, "Solisbury Hill" by Peter Gabriel, "Possum Kingdom" by the Toadies (which was kind of a wreck vocally, but I provided some really creepy choreography) and "Fat Bottomed Girls" by Queen. Partnering with Joyce, I also contributed on "You Don't Bring Me Flowers," "Who Says You Can't Go Home," "Picture," "(I've Had) The Time Of My Life," and as a special treat, Heidi joined us and did a very capable job sharing the vocal parts on "Black Water."

The morning afforded us little time for recovery as we headed out to the Cleveland Twp. Little League, where the weather was absolutely perfect for the opening day ceremonies. Things got off to a terrific start when we learned that Trevor had won third place overall in the park's Pitch, Hit and Run competition last weekend! Then the exhibition games began, and thus Trevor gained his first real experience playing in a game situation at the Major Baseball level. He got the start on the mound against the Reds, facing the top of their batting order... and struck out the first three batters to end the inning. *Woo-hoo!!!* Since the game was merely an exhibition, none of our pitchers pitched more than a single inning each, so Trevor spent the rest of the time at first base. At the plate he was 0-for-1, and was also walked but got picked off trying to steal third. The first game was called after three innings, and our Dodgers won 4-1.

The second game of the "double-header" scrimmage was against the A's, who are generally regarded as having the most talented roster this year. We came out strong in this game as well, and led 4-2 after three innings. Then the coaches, punch-drunk from the beautiful sunshine, decided to continue playing beyond the planned three innings. We led 6-3 after four innings... and then, unfortunately, we ran out of pitchers. In the fifth, we gave up seven runs. Ah well... at least we know precisely how deep we can go before the wheels come off. Anyway... Trevor has a practice today, and then team photos at 4 p.m. (They will be given the opportunity to change clothes, natch.) Heidi also has a meeting with the "team moms." The first "real" game should be Tuesday, but I've heard rumblings that it may be rescheduled (which probably will lead to another season where we have to cram in a week full of games at the last minute).

Lest the girls get too bored, they have gymnastics classes on Thursdays, and Kayla has one more Girl Scouts meeting before the summer break. Meanwhile, somehow I have to find time to mow the lawn, trim some brush, repair the flowerbed, adjust our TV antenna, and help with the laundry and dishes. You can assume that blogging will continue to be sporadic at best.

The Easter holiday provided an opportunity for an extended weekend vacation, so on the Thursday prior we loaded the kids into the minivan and made the familiar four-hour drive to the home of my mom (a.k.a. "Nanee") in West Harrison, Indiana.

That night we all stayed together, but the next morning Heidi and I headed off to the lovely town of Madison, Indiana on the banks of the Ohio River. Our chosen place of lodging was the Madison Vineyards Bed & Breakfast, which was not only both elegant and affordable, but also offered the added bonus of wine tasting on the grounds.


The Alsace room, and the view from the window

That afternoon, we drove into downtown Madison, and despite a driving rainstorm we managed to hit two more wineries, plus some additional wine-tasting and hors d'œuvres at the MadMerc Cafe. Eventually we had dinner at the Key West Shrimp House, which came highly recommended. We liked the atmosphere (and were particularly impressed with the family waiting area), but the food was a little disappointing considering the upscale pricing. Each of our entrées included a dish of "Shrimp Panama"--a signature item with peeled shrimp wrapped in bacon and simmered in a "secret sauce"--only the bacon was fatty and undercooked, and the sauce, I swear, tasted like ketchup. Eh.

Back at the B&B we had a lovely evening sipping wine in front of the fireplace. (The innkeepers did seem a little annoyed that we couldn't get the gaslit fire going without assistance, but otherwise they were gracious hosts.) And in the morning we were treated to a terrific breakfast, including a pineapple boat filled with mixed fruit, warm sweet scones, bread with sausage and cheese baked inside, and eggs scrambled with ricotta cheese. (Heidi's not a big fan of ricotta, but I thought it was tasty.) Then we went back downtown (thankfully, under warm sunshine) to shop and stroll by the riverfront, and to have a nice alfredo pasta lunch at Café Dofi.



Eventually we had to return to mom's house, but we weren't ready to settle in, so we took mom on a rare night out at the Groesbeck Tavern, where she listened to me sing while a big hairy guy tried to hit on her (until he spilled his drink on her). The next day was Easter, and of course mom prepared an awesome dinner. On Monday we made the journey home.

The following shortened workweek passed without incident, except for a misbehaving Exchange server. On Friday, the family went out to the Wakarusa Maple Syrup Festival to see my former bandmates in Four and Twenty Elders performing in the entertainment tent. (The website is horribly out-of-date, but they have an iLike page on Facebook.) Trevor wasn't with us, because the budding young saxophonist was on a school band trip to Indy; but the next morning we all went back to Waky for the all-you-can-eat sausage and pancake breakfast.

That was yesterday, and oh yes! That was also my birthday. I have one more year left of my thirties, and I plan to remain in complete denial about my advancing age as long as possible... as evidenced by the fact that we were bar-hopping until 2:30 a.m. (And yes, I'm paying for it today!)

And life goes on...

Several years ago, I found myself embroiled in a conversation on an Internet message board. I don't even remember the intended purpose of the particular BBS, but I'm pretty sure it wasn't medically-related and certainly it didn't have anything to do with the male foreskin. But as is wont to happen in pretty much any online discussion, the conversation spiraled out of control and digressed into a heated debate about circumcision of male infants. And one particular poster had worked himself into a frothing lather, railing against the medical establishment which seeks to mutilate the male genitalia because... well, no one really knows why, but it must be for some nefarious secret plan for world domination by urologists...

Now, let's be quite clear about this: Circumcision prevents disease. It promotes cleanliness. It prevents several foreskin-related conditions that can arise later in life, some of which can drastically impede sexual performance. And yes, folks... there are plenty of real, honest-to-God scientific studies to support these conclusions. Much of this is discussed in an article I read this morning (which inspired me to make this post). Doctors have reasons for recommending the procedure. They don't idly clip foreskins because they want to save them and make them into a leather wallet (which, when rubbed vigorously, grows into a suitcase).

So anyway, the passion of this Internet BBS crusader puzzled me at first; but little did I know at that time about the massive underground backlash against the practice that has been festering on the Internet for some time now. There's even a group on Facebook, for pete's sake (no pun intended). And like so many other naturalistic movements out there (not all of which are bad, mind you), these folks believe that humans are essentially stupid and want to mess up the beauty of nature in all its forms... and that includes the wonderful, pulchritudinous contours of the uncut penis.

Google "circumcision" and one of the websites you'll find near the top is the "Circumcision Research Center." This is a shrill, alarmist advocacy group pretending to practice something resembling science. It's only one site of dozens, actively frightening parents into believing that the loss of foreskin is a trauma that will scar your child for the rest of his natural life.

The site would be almost satirical if well-meaning parents didn't actually believe the tripe on it. By far the most amusing page is titled, "Why Most Circumcised Men Seem Satisfied"--or in other words, "Circumcised men are really, really messed up, both physically and psychologically, but they're too stupid to know it." Here are some exact quotes:

"Circumcised men do not know what they are missing. They believe that the sexual sensitivity they have without a foreskin is 'normal.' (Similarly, a woman born in Somalia who had been subjected to a severe form of female circumcision insisted that it had no impact. 'It's the same thing. There is nothing different about my sexuality.')"

"It is possible that circumcision is an unrecognized factor in the high rates of impotence in older American men."

"The emotions connected with circumcision that may surface are very painful. Repressing them protects men from this pain."

"Attitudes about people, life, and the future may also be affected. An example of an attitude resulting from childhood trauma is "You can’t count on anything or anyone to protect you.'"

Okay, so... First of all, to equate a healthy and safe medical procedure with the horror of female genital mutilation in Africa is reprehensible, and whomever wrote that apparently has no shame. Second, implying that the practice could cause other medical problems without any evidence whatsoever is irresponsible speculative bullshit. Third, the procedure is done with a local anesthetic and causes no pain whatsoever, so exactly what sort of "trauma" did I experience that is affecting me even today?

I tried explaining all of this to that foreskin-bearing zealot, all those years ago. He assured me that HIS sexual experiences were faaaar superior to mine, because I would never know the pleasures of a properly stimulated prepuce. I tried to explain that I was getting all the stimulation I could handle, and that any additional arousal would, in fact, be counter-productive. But instead of considering my own feelings on the subject (since, unlike him, I was qualified to testify about such things), he only became extremely angry. In fact, it absolutely infuriated him that I wasn't suffering from PTSD, huddling in a corner, protecting my exposed glans with both hands from whatever horrific danger might befall it. Basically, his attitude was the equivalent of berating a rape victim because she doesn't feel quite as traumatized as you think she should. Does that make any goddamn sense?

Look, to the guys out there who have a foreskin and like it, great! Enjoy it! Although it's fair to warn you that some women I know (like, for example, the one I live with) think it's "icky"... but whatever. Just understand that my sex life and I are fine, and if I have any deep-seated psychological damage as the result of losing a ring of skin around my schlong, I'll just have to work that out with my therapist. In the meantime, try and find a cause that I give a damn about, or else leave me and my junk out of it. M'kay?

Tuesday night, poor Hannah was lethargic and repeatedly throwing up. The good news is that she bounced back quickly, and even went to a school field trip the following day to the Healthworks Kids' Museum in South Bend:


This is kinda freaky, ain't it?

Anyway, it would appear that whatever virus she had suffered from has an incubation period of about 48 hours... because late Thursday afternoon, I left work feeling as if I'd been hit by a truck hauling a load of ipecac. I spent the remainder of the evening in bed hugging a bucket.

Both Kayla and Hannah made me get-well cards. Here's what Hannah wrote on mine:

"I love you DAD I hope you fel bedr I whish you wrnt sike."

She wrote this without any assistance whatsoever. In case you're unaware, she's five and hasn't started kindergarten yet. How 'bout that, huh? :^)

That same evening, Trevor came back from his Little League practice. (He's been drafted onto the Dodgers in the major league and will likely be one of the three starting pitchers.) He immediately went to the bathroom and began making his own offerings to the porcelain god. In the morning, however, he felt well enough to go to school.

Kayla went to school, too. By noontime, she was celebrating March Madness by trying to hit the wastebasket in the classroom... except instead of using a basketball or paper wad, she was using projectile vomit. Heidi brought her home, and Kayla and I each slept the day away.

Tomorrow morning Trevor has to go to a band contest at Penn High School in Mishawaka, so hopefully we will all have recovered enough to attend.