One of the fun games we in the management staff like to play in the restaurant business is called Look at this application! I mean application in its paper form and not the cool apps for your smartphone form.

     When someone questionable comes to the front door with an application already filled out OR asks for an application to fill out we wait to see how the person filled out their application. By questionable I mean someone who looks like they just escaped from prison or looks like they have been up for four days. First impressions do count. If you think the person who takes your application doesnt tell management of how you acted or how you looked you should just take t that job at the gas station your cousin offered you and get it over with.

      A friend of mine at another store in the company actually posts the better ones on his Facebook account. I think this is going to bite him in the ass since a lot of corporate people are Facebook friends with him but I digress. Here are some good ones:

     On an application for line cook, the box that asks What are your qualifications for this job? a person wrote: I can stand in one place for a very long time. Nope.

     I had a young kid put in his application. I passed on calling him at all because he didnt list any cooking experience at all.  He called me two days later around noon (Which, by itself, is a huge red flag. No one who knows anything about restaurants calls at noon to talk to the chef. Noon is usually when we are neck deep in lunch orders) to ask if I had seen his application. I said yes but I was looking for experienced cooks. He said; I can cook my own grill cheese at home. I actually laughed in the phone. He hung up. Putz.

     Usually, if we are actively looking for someone the person at the front door knows it and will come back and tell the chef there is someone filling out an app. I have gotten several great cooks this way and then there are the losers.

     I had one guy waiting for me at the bar when I came into work one day at 2PM. He wasnt drinking. The bartender told him I wouldnt be in until 2 and he said he would wait. It seems he was there with his friend and the friends little kid. Since I needed someone I went right out to talk to him before I even changed into my chef coat and pants.

     I want to preface this story by saying the guy with the app was black. His friend and kid were white.  I know racism is always an issue in this country but I am not a racist. Yeah, I know you have heard that before but let me explain.

     When, as a chef, I need to fill a position I need to do it very quickly. If the fry guy decides to not show up on a Friday night we cant just stop selling fried items. That isnt feasible. Not to mention the guy is probably working all weekend and at least five days next weekend. Either I start working 3 or 4 double shifts (And since I am salary, I wouldnt actually get paid for the extra hours.) or I fill the position. Now, if someone is willing and able to work so I dont have to work for free an extra 20 to 30 hours a week, great! I dont care what color you are or who you sleep with or that you just got out of jail. Show up on time, do your job, and I will be a happy man.

     Now back to the black guy waiting for me. When I got out to the bar to talk to him I noticed he had a tear drop tat under his left eye. No big deal. I have worked with and hired a few guys with the exact same tat. I asked him to sit at one of the tables to get him alone to talk about his work history. We turn to walk to one of the tables and the guys friend and kid follows us. I didnt think anything of it since it was also the direction of the front door. Well, I was in for a surprise. The black guy sits down across the table from me. His friend and kid sit down at the table behind him and the white guy turns so he can hear our conversation. It was a little weird but I didnt care if these guys didnt. I started asking the black guy about his work history, where he worked, what kind of cooking he did etc. Every time I asked a question, the white guy would answer for the black guy. After about three questions in I was thinking what the fuck is going on here? Are they fucking with me? Do they think I seriously wont care if the black guy doesnt answer any of the questions?

     I let this go on for about ten minutes and finally looked at the application closer. Every one of our apps has a question asking Have you ever been convicted of a felony? The black guy had written yes. In the second question it asks If so, what were you convicted of? Someone had written Will explain in interview. Not unusual. I have seen that a couple hundred times. But, at this point I was having doubts if the black guy even filled this app out or if it was his buddy who did. So, I turned to the black guy and asked What were you convicted of? He then said pretty much the only complete sentence of the entire interview: Its a long story. He said this with his arms crossed staring at me as if daring me to ask him to explain it. I wasnt afraid at all just a little amused. So I told him to call me the next day and Id have a decision for him. I knew he wasnt going to call. He didnt. I hired somebody else.

     One of the other chefs from another store told me about one of the funniest interviews he ever had. He also said it was the quickest. A guy came in to fill out an application and wanted to speak to the chef. The chef went out to speak to him and the guy wanted to know if he could come back the next day for an interview. The chef said fine since he was a little busy at the moment anyway. He had set up an interview with the guy for 1PM the next day. On the next day the bartender comes back about ten to 1 to say a guy has been sitting at his bar drinking for about an hour and has just told him he was here for an interview. The chef didnt believe him and went out to the bar. Sure as shit there was the guy who the chef had talked to the day before to set up the interview. The guy saw the chef and ACTUALLY RAISED HIS BEER in a hello gesture. The chef nodded to him and turned right back around and went back into the kitchen. Not technically an interview but close enough to NOT get hired. The guy ended up asking the bartender about twenty minutes later (Still swigging beers mind you.)  if the chef was ever going to come out and talk to him. The bartender was one of the old timers who could get away with murder and laughed in the guys face, shook his head and walked away.

    To this day, after 20 plus years in the industry, I am still not surprised at what people try to get away with in a restaurant or bar. Here are some examples:

    When I was the Executive Chef at one of The Companys stores we had just hired a new server. Ill call her Alex. Alex had been trained in and had only worked for a few shifts alone.  On one of these first shifts she was working the lunch shift with me. Towards the end of the day a couple came in and sat down. They were the only ones left in the restaurant. Alex approached the table and asked if they wanted to start with anything to drink. That was pretty much the last bit of normal conversation.

    The guy looks up from his menu and asks; Are the chickens fresh?

    Alex replies sarcastically, Yup, we pull the feathers in the back.

    Guy says, Ok. Ill take the chicken sandwich and some feathers.

    Girl orders a burger. Alex rings in the food on the computer system and brings out their drinks.

    As Alex is dropping off their drinks Guy asks, Where are the feathers?

    Alex replies, I just rang them in, ha ha. At this point she is just starting to think this guy isnt all there.

    I cooked the food and called out for Alex. She picks up the order and brings it out to the table. The guy looks her dead in the eye and says, Where are my fucking feathers? If you dont bring me my fucking feathers I am going to punch you in the face.

   Alex tells him shell be right back. She goes and gets the manager and goes up to the table and asks, Is there a problem?

    Guy says, I want my feathers. She said you had chicken feathers. She said you had them. If she doesnt bring them out I am going to punch her.

    Manager, You need to leave. Now

                As strange as this whole situation was, looking back on it now the thing I find the weirdest isnt the Chicken Feather Guy. Its his girlfriend that doesnt say a fucking thing through the entire WTF conversation the guy was having with Alex and the manager.

    When I was at First Base, we had off duty police officers (In full uniform.) carding people at the door. We thought this would deter people from doing anything stupid. Nope.  When I was bored, which only happened during the slow winter hours, I would go up front and bullshit with the cops. I was curious about some of the dumber things they had seen. Here are some of my favorites:

    On one of the first times I was talking to the cop at the door he had just arrested someone for a fake ID. It seems like I had just missed it. I asked him what tipped him off.

    He pulled out the ID and said Here. See if you can figure it out. It was a state issued ID card. At the time the state I was living next to was a counterfeiters dream. They issued their IDs and Drivers Licenses like a library card. You applied and got it the same day right at the DMV. It was a piece of paper with your picture in the upper left hand corner and all the info typed on it between to overlapping pieces of thick laminate.

    I looked over the card a couple of times before I caught it. There was a spot for Social Security number. The number was only seven digits. A real SS number is nine. Just goes to show the Devil is in the details.

    I asked the cop if this was the worst ID he had ever seen. He said not even close. He used to carry the real dumb ones on a key ring. He said one of the worst had ever seen was one night he was working at the door. A group of four guys came in and were loud and obnoxious. That in itself isnt abnormal since we are a several collage town. All four guys gave him their Drivers Licenses at once. He looked them over and said you are all going to get tickets. They all looked dumbfounded and scared. The cop knew right away they were all fake. The dipshits had handed a cop four fake licenses at the same time that had the EXACT same name, age, height, weight etc. They just had four different pictures.

    I have no problem with honest cops who dont abuse their authority. They are for the most part hard working people just like the rest of us. I can kind of understand trying to slip a cop a fake ID. Dumb? Yes. Worst thing you can do to a cop? No.

    The cops are at the door to mostly card people for the night club type bar we had upstairs. During the day it served food to families. At night it turned into a collage bar. One night a really large black man came in. Apparently he was a boxer. No one famous though. He decides he is going to drink himself stupid. No harm in that most of the time. This time, however, wasnt a smart decision. The boxer starts lipping off to everyone he can see. He threatens the bartender after he is cut off and refuses to leave. The bartender calls downstairs for the cop.

    The cop comes upstairs and asks the guy to leave peacefully. The boxer says he is going to knock him out because he is a boxer. The cop says he really, really, doesnt want to try that. The boxer gets in a boxing stance and starts dancing around like Ali. The cop pulls out his tazer and shoots the boxer who drops like Frazier. Then the boxer pisses himself. Some people shouldnt drink. No one should threaten a cop.

If I ever came to power I would change a few things. Here is my list in no particular order:

·         Duck Faces in all pictures are here by banned! Anyone doing the Duck Face will be sent an elite commando team called the Duck Squad. The Duck Squad will show up when the perp is in a very public place. They will use a set of pliers to hold the perps lips in the Duck Face position and then use a curling iron between said lips to brand them. Duck Face fixed.

·         All petty driving rules will be enforced with an iron fist. For example: If you are caught slowing down for no reason and then make a turn without a blinker your car will be thrown into a crusher. If there is someone behind you when you are slowing down to turn without a blinker and they utter the phrase What the fuck is this guy doing? you will be left in the car when it is placed in afore mentioned crusher.  Another example: If you are caught not going AT LEAST the speed limit while there are people behind you who have places to be and shit to do your car will be impounded and you will be issued a bus pass.

·         If anyone in a position of power in a church spews hate speech against ANY group that church will lose the right to call itself a church. It is now considered a club and any hate speech will be ignored.

·         Pepsi and Coke, will by law, be served in the same restaurants, movie theaters, sports stadiums, and anywhere else one or the other WAS previously sold.

·         No wars on the planet can be waged until all diseases are eliminated. All money used to wage war will be spent on research.  Cancer will be the first disease eliminated.

·         All convicted pedophiles will be shot in the head. No need to worry if they are within 100 yards of a child, no parole, no ankle bracelet, no need to register where you go or live. BANG! Youre dead.

·         People who abuse animals cannot come within 100 yards of an animal, will be placed on lifetime parole, will need to wear an ankle bracelet and register where they go and live.

·         Tax breaks will be given to people who buy large SUVs. Fuck global warming. The planet made it 4 billion years. Nothing we do short of all out nuclear war will scratch it. Even then in a few hundred thousand years it will reset. Just like an Etch-A-Sketch.

I started my culinary journey at a Ponderosa Steakhouse. Yes, I am using the restaurants real name because 1) they have plenty of other issues to worry about and 2) I wont be working for them ever again. A high school friend of mine got me a job right after we graduated at Ponderosa as a dishwasher. I was getting $3.25 an hour and it was supposed to be temporary while I was going to college. That didnt work out so well.

Ponderosa was a low budget steakhouse chain that had an all you can eat buffet. They sold subpar steaks that were tenderized with enzymes and electricity. However, they passed the savings on to the customer so the buffet, a porterhouse and a baked potato was something like $6. Most of the food was blah but they did have the most incredible fried chicken wings on their buffet. They were nice and peppery and the longer they sat on the buffet the better they got. You could get fired for eating the leftovers from the buffet at the end of the night (I guess they thought employees might accidentally cook extra food at the end.) but we all risked it for those delicious little bastards.

The management staff was pretty much in a revolving door. Every couple of months someone fresh out of Ponderosa management school would show up with their new company rhetoric.  One guy in particular was all high and mighty on the company. It was going to be the next big thing. We were all going to own shares in the company. I think they smoked crack at the company training seminars. Ill call him Joe.

Joe was transferred from another store. Our store was larger and he was on the way up. Joe pissed off a lot of people in his climb. Remember what they say about being nice to the people on your way up. You are going to need them on your way down. During his tenure he noticed a lot of silverware was missing. He never entertained the thought that customers were stealing it for their college dorm rooms. He assumed the employees were throwing it away. As a result he instituted a policy for the dishwashers. He would randomly walk into the dish room and dump the large 65 gallon garbage can over on on the floor. If he found any silverware in it the dish guy would clean it up. If he didnt he would clean it up. He always found silverware.

I know everyone has heard about the dark side of cooking. Someone spits in your food or worse. I can honestly say something like that only happened once that I saw. Those types of people arent professional to say the least and are weeded out of the industry. I dont want them in my kitchen and neither does The Company. They pose a financial risk (And health risk) in an industry in which your reputation is everything. I certainly dont condone what I am about to tell you but he might have had it coming.

One very busy day shift I was dish washing and Tom the broiler guy was just getting his ass kicked. I think they were running a special on steaks like buy one get one half off. Tom was busting ass and sweating like a pig. After about two and a half hours it finally died. Tom finally was able to catch his breath and asked Joe if he could watch his station while he took a piss and five minutes to himself. Joe said after he ate and ordered a steak sandwich. Tom was fucking livid. He came back into the dish room swearing under his breath and saying Ill give him a fucking steak sandwich.

Over the main drain in the dish room we had a large plastic bowl with holes in it. Just like a large sieve. We would put the dishes in the dish rack up on their sides and spray all the food and debris down into this bowl.  The water would drain through and after a half hour we would pick up the bowl and dump its contents into the garbage.

Tom comes back with Joes raw steak sandwich just as I am about to dump the very full bowl into the garbage. He says wait. He walks over, drops the steak into the bowl, and dredges it through the food, paper, straws, cigarette butts and God knows what else. He smiles grabs the steak and walks back up to the grill and cooks it off for Joe. He came back later on his way to his break and said that Joe had told him it was the best steak sandwich he had ever had.

A couple of months after Joe left the company another manager told us Joe would keep a fork in his pocket when he knocked over the garbage. If he didnt find silverware in the garbage he would put the fork there.

Two things to take from this story:

 Never fuck with the people who cook your food.

and

 Karma is a bitch mistress.

Check out Part 1 here:

http://www.ebaumsworld.com/user/blog/DarthTolkien/view=81084388

While at First Base I personally trained a couple hundred line cooks. Not all of them were able to handle the high volume, high pressure, and high jinks that a busy restaurant has to offer. Here are some notable things that people have done in and out of First Base:

One of the guys who trained me in was the type of guy that almost died at least a dozen times. The situations he got into and walked away from were legend at First Base and I had the pleasure to work with him and on occasion party with him. Ill call him Larry.

Larry was from the old guard that started at First Base when it was just First Base and a second restaurant. Basically before it was The Company. Back then employees were allowed (And encouraged.) to drink, fuck, and do drugs in the restaurant after the place had closed for the night. Sometimes they would drink inside and then finish at another bar. Sometimes they would drink all night into the morning hours and watch the sun come up over Lake Superior.

On one occasion Larry and a couple of guys got done with the day shift and decided to grab a case of beer and drive down the local cruising spot. This was a long residential road near the lake that had only a couple lazy curves. For some reason one of the guys had a recliner in the back of his truck. I dont knoow the story of how or why it got there but the after math was one of those times Larry should have died.

Of course Larry was pretty drunk by the time he climbed into the back of the truck and sat down in the recliner for the ride. Needless to say the recliner was not tied down or secured in any way. Neither was Larry. About 15 minutes into the drive they come upon an S curve. It is a very easy turn and you never lose sight of any part of the road. The driver (I was never quite sure if he was part of our company or not.) decided to gun it around the turn forgetting (or not caring) about the drunk cargo sitting in the recliner holding a beer.

As the truck came out of the first curve the recliner, with Larry in it screaming, hit the tailgate and kept going onto the street. It hit the street upright and skidded to a stop against the curb. The driver made a hasty U-turn and came back thinking Larry would be splattered all over the pavement. Upon coming up to the scene there was Larry laughing hysterically still sitting in the recliner holding his beer yelling:

I didnt spill it! I didnt spill it!

That wasnt even the worst thing that happened to Larry. After a day of drinking Larry decided to take his crotch rocket for a ride. Larry was an amazing driver when it came to motorcycles. He was one of those guys who could ride a wheelie for miles. His favorite trick was to go around corners on a wheelie.

No shit.

I thought he was full of shit until I saw him do it once.

Larry took his cycle up a winding road he drove all the time. He got the bike up to sixty and put it up on one wheel. As he came up to a corner he downshifted and the bike started to wobble a little bit. He tried to slow it down and drop it back down to two wheels. He didnt quite make it. He hit a tree doing a wheelie at an estimated 30 miles per hour. He doesnt remember much after that. He kept going in and out of consciousness. An off duty cop came up to the accident scene and called it in. Larry was in the hospital for a week. He broke an arm and leg. He was very lucky.

Larry was one of the good guys. The type of guy you wanted working with you when the shit hit the fan and two busloads of tourist showed up at your front door hungry, crabby, and cheap.

Some of these guys were the type of guys you dont even want sitting next to you on the bus:

Towards the beginning of summer we would hire about 3 dozen line cooks for the three kitchens. One of those guys was named Sean.

Sean came to us from one of the bigger cities. His work history was never checked. He also told us he had two culinary degrees. That was before the internet. That was also before I could tell when people were full of shit.

In actuality no ones work history was checked unless they had worked for someone we knew or one of the other stores. It was just a fact that if they wrote down they worked at the Olive Garden we took it for granted. It was a waste of time to call someone you didnt know and ask them about an ex-employee. Most of the time management from other restaurants didnt remember them or wouldnt give you anything other than how long they worked there.

Sean was a big fucker. Well over 6 feet tall with a skinny redneck goatee and a mullet. I was the lucky son of a bitch that got to train him in on the broiler station. The fry guy called in or didnt show up so I was pulling double duty, working the fry station and training (Babysitting.) Sean.

One of the things I ask people when they first start is: Are you an alcoholic? If they say no, I say you will be. If they say yes I say you will be again. If they say what? I say didnt you see the check box on the application? I asked Sean this and he said he was a recovering alcoholic and hadnt touched a drink in 6 years. He was drinking by the end of the week.

Larry was actually the wheel man that night. His job was to call out the orders to the line cooks, time all items among the four stations (Broil, Fry, Sauté and Salads)get all the food together for the various servers ordering the food and to be the last quality control before it goes out. Seans first order came up and Larry called it out to him.

 Larry called out: Sean, ordering a mushroom and Swiss burger.

Sean: Swiss? Is that the one with the holes in it?

Two culinary degrees huh? It was all downhill from there.

A few orders later Larry called to Sean: Ordering a Filet medium and a New York rare.

Sean: Is a New York the long skinny one or the short fat one?

Fuck.

Back then we cooked steaks and chicken on something called a sun broiler. It was a piece of equipment 6 feet tall and 4 feet wide by 5 feet deep. It was basically a broiler with no door that used open gas flames to cook the food from the top. It was called a sun broiler because it almost as hot as the sun. One time after it had just been cleaned out one of my predecessors as Sous Chef came on the line to cook his dinner and walked by it. He remarked:

Holy Shit! Its hot enough to cook a Jew in there.

He doesnt work for us anymore.

About half way through the night Sean went to piss. I finished up one of his items, put it in the window and took the ticket and threw it in the broiler to fuck with Larry. Sean came back at that time and saw the flare up in the broiler. He actually had to bend down to look into this monster and says:

Who put fire in oven?

I turned to him and asked: What are you? A fucking cave man?

Sean didn't last a month and a half.

I have been working in restaurants for 20 years and have seen and heard some really fucked up shit. I am currently working in a restaurant that is literally a stones throw from Lake Superior. I would like to share with you some of things that have happened in the last 20 years.

For those of you who have read the book Kitchen Confidential by Anthony Bourdain you will know what kinds of things I am going to talk about. For those of you who havent, I highly suggest picking it up. It is a great and funny read for those of us in the industry and those of you who arent. While I dont know any of the people in the book by name I DO know the types of people in it. While reading I have said to myself thats Tom, or Fred, or Steve exactly.

For obvious reasons I wont be using real names of people or some of the restaurants I have worked at. I have been working for the same company for over 15 years and have worked at a few of their different concepts.  Ill just call it The Company so I can continue working there. The first restaurant I worked at in The Company I was at for 10 years. Ill call it First Base.

At First Base I started as a broiler/grill man. I would cook burgers, steaks, chicken etc. for the thousands of tourists who came through our doors.  I eventually worked my way up to supervisor and then Sous-Chef (A Chef that reports directly to the Executive Chef, the top dog.) After being a Sous Chef for a couple of years I was asked to be Executive Chef of one of The Companys troubled restaurants (We call them stores.)

Most of the debauchery happened at First Base during my time as a line cook and supervisor. While there I met or trained over a thousand people. It was a big operation in the summer. We had three full size kitchens running in one building.

When I first started at First Base it was a fun and loose time. The Company is a privately owned (And still is.) company. We didnt have a Human Resources person. We were given free drinks after work (Sometimes during for special events.) and had little to no restrictions on behavior. The Company hadnt grown up yet.

One of earliest memories from First Base happened in the first week of training. I was training with Jim, a line cook. He had been with the company for a few years when I got there and he would go on to be an Executive Chef at 3 or 4 of The Companys stores. At the end of the grill station and sauté station we had large pots sitting on the floor filled with hot water and soap. These were called pan buckets. When we were done with the sauté pans or sizzlers we used on grill we would dump them in the buckets. When they were full we would call for Pan pickup! to the dish room. The dish washers would come in and hall them away to be cleaned, sanitized and replace them with clean pots filled with soapy water.

Jim was the type of guy who would not get visibly upset about anything. He was atypical in the industry. Most people in professional kitchens, me included in the beginning anyway, when getting upset will yell, swear, throw shit and call in to question someone elses sexuality, heritage, and lineage. Not Jim. His upset voice and demeanor was the same voice and demeanor he showed when asking about how your days off went.

When I showed up to work that morning Jim was already there setting up the line. The pan buckets were already there. I punched into the time clock and started setting up with Jim. About an hour into it he turns to me and say he has to pee. He then turns towards, away from me, the pan bucket on the grill station and hikes up his apron, unzips his fly and proceeds to piss into the bucket. I can hear and see the stream. He finishes, shakes twice, washes his hands in the hand sink, and continues to set up the grill station.

At this point I am just dumbfounded and staring at him. This isnt the first kitchen I have worked in so I know line cooks are a little off, sometimes twisted, but this was the most fucked up thing I have seen until now. Jim sensed I was looking at him and turned to me.

He gets a questioning look on his face and asks; What?

I say; What the fuck did you just do?

He says; I took a piss. What did it look like to you?

I continue staring at him while thinking twelve different things: do I tell someone?, I fucking ate here, that is sick, holy shit!

He starts laughing and pulls a squirt bottle half filled with water out from underneath his apron. He had it hidden before I came in. When it was time he just pointed it at the pot just like his dick and squeezed to get the same effect. Genius.

I have since followed in his footsteps with the practical jokes.

First Base has a top level with a large patio looking at Lake Superior. Here are some of the things people (And some not to bright employees.) have said while eating there:

A guy with a concentrated look on his face flags down his waitress. Thinking something is wrong with the food she asks Is there something wrong?

I was wondering if you could answer a question for me. The guy asks.

Sure. Says the server, What is it?

Pointing to Lake Superior he asks What ocean is that?

A gentleman walks up to one of the servers waiting at the end of the bar for her drink orders.

He asks How do I get down stairs?

She replies How did you get up here?

A lady waves for her server. The server comes over and he asks Yes? Can I get you something?

The lady replies There is something wrong with these onion rings. They dont taste right.

The server says  I am so sorry. Whats wrong with them?

The lady says  They taste too oniony.

And now the employees:

Alicia the server walks up to the bartender with an empty pitcher of beer in one hand and a serious look on her face.

Hey, do we give free refills on the pitchers of beer?

No. The customers would never leave. The bartender replies.

Again Alicia:

Asking the bartender  Do we put ice in the iced tea?

Yup. Thus the name. says the bartender.

Another one involving Alicia:

Alicia calls Adam, another server, over to one of her tables with three guys.

Adam, these guys need directions to Mukeegee (The next town over). Can you tell them?

Sure. Says Adam. He explains how to get there and walks away. As he is walking away he stops, looks back at the guys, looks at Alicia and walks up to her as she is sitting at the end of the bar.

Alicia? Dont you live in Muskeegee and drive here every day?

Yes. She replies. But I dont know how to give directions there!

Funny footnote about Alicia: several years after working at First Base she was in the paper for receiving some kind of prestigious academic scholarship to college. Book smart, street dumb.

(More memories to come)

Mark McGwire finally admitted to what pretty much everybody already knew. He took steroids. He does this as a door opens to his future as the hitting coach for the St. Louis Cardinals. But as that door opens another slams shut never to open. The door to Cooperstown. I am wondering if he thought coming clean will get him into the Hall. He probably should have asked Pete Rose about that.

Personally, I feel betrayed. He was a hero of mine growing up. A massive kid that crushed the rookie record for homeruns as he towered over everyone near him. He was Ruth re-born but, unlike Ruth (In baseball anyway) he was a liar and a cheater. A liar in that he has been telling everyone since day one that he doesnt use steroids. A cheater in that he used a chemical substance as an unfair advantage in baseball. Sure steroids werent banned in baseball until 1991 but it was and still is illegal to obtain a prescription drug for uses other than it was intended. In sports you and or your team use talent, strategy, and drive to beat the other team. Not a syringe full of chemical cocktail.

Using steroids in baseball is like turning the odometer back on your 1965 Corvette and selling it. It was worth money before you did it. It is still a Corvette. Sure its illegal but it is a personal choice. Doing this one illegal act has added value to something that already had a lot of value. On a very base level it is wrong. You know it is wrong. However, you wont be banned from ever owning a Corvette again if you are caught. The guy buying the Corvette gets screwed. He thought he was buying something with actual miles.

This should be the final nail in this issue. The Commissioner of baseball should say enough is enough. He should pick the beginning of the 2011 season as the official end of steroids. From that date forward anyone caught using any performance enhancing products should be banned for life. Period. No appeals from the Players Association. No second chances. They will have plenty of time to get off the crap and play real baseball or retire. Then fans can start believing in the players again.

In his interview with Bob Costas, McGwire admitted to using so many steroids he couldnt remember exactly what he took and went on to say, in practically the same breath, that steroids didnt enhance his abilities.

Wait...What?

Sure they didnt. He hit baseballs farther and faster than any human ever has. I watched him at batting practice in the Metrodome before a game with the Minnesota Twins. He was the third or fourth person up. The guys before him hit probably 2-3 balls total into the stands out of close to 75 hits. McGwire gets to the plate and starts sending the baseballs into orbit. He hit balls into the upper deck of far-right, right, center, left and far-left stands IN ORDER like he was checking them off a list.

Steroids didnt help him out though.

Miep Gies died today at 100 years old. Who is she you ask? I didnt know either until I read her obituary at CNN.com (http://www.cnn.com/2010/WORLD/europe/01/11/obit.miep.gies/index.html) In my opinion she is one of the most important people of the 20th Century. Is she a hero? If you asked her that question she would vehemently say no. But every hero I have ever heard asked that same exact question says the same thing:

 No.

Gies was among a team of Dutch citizens who hid the Frank family of four and four others in a secret annex in Amsterdam.

Yes, that Frank family. Anne Franks family.

That alone would have made her important and if she stopped at doing just that very dangerous and difficult deed we might not have known her or Anne Frank. But she went even further.

When the Gestapo showed up and took Anne, her family, the four others hiding out and two people who helped Gies hide them, the Gestapo left behind all of Annes papers. Those papers turned out to be Annes diary. Gies took the papers and hid them. She didnt read them for fear of what they might contain but kept them nonetheless.

After the war Otto Frank, Annes father, was the only survivor of the group taken away and he returned to Amsterdam. Gies gave him Annes diary and Otto published it in 1947 under The Secret Annex. Later it would be known as The Diary of Anne Frank and would be required reading in schools all over the world.

In the darkest time of the 20th century, when the most evil deeds were done to people, Miep Gies was a light in the darkness. She and her helpers risked not only their deaths but the deaths of all their families doing what she thought was right. Then when it all went wrong she had the foresight to hide the Diary of Anne Frank so the world could know the fear and anguish of a 14 year old girl. Without Miep Gies we would not have been able to read one of the most important books of the 20th century. Without Miep Gies we would not know Anne Frank and what was done to her. And the world needed to know Anne Frank so it, so we, could make sure those things would never happen again.

This is the lead story on CNN.com. What the fuck dont these people understand about 'Plead guilty to unlawful sexual intercourse with a minor?' This guy got a 13-year old girl drunk AND gave her part of a Quaalude to rape her. These people are upset because 'The filmmakers objected to his being arrested en route to (a) film festival, which held a tribute to him this year'. Holy shit! So they are OK with the fact that he drugged AND raped this girl but its NOT OK to grab him on his way to a film festival because THATS crossing a line? These directors/actors/producers make Polanski out to be someone who is single handedly saving kids from disease in some third world country. HE MAKES MOVIES! Get over it and yourselves.

Then they go on to say its been so long. Really? Do you know why its been so long? He hadnt been caught until now! So, let me get this straight. If you commit a crime (And plead guilty to it in court.) and the police cant get you for X number of years, you win! Oh, its like the lottery!

This is my personal favorite. It is in the petition these dirt bags are passing around Hollywood. The petition, in part, says: The arrest of Roman Polanski in a neutral country, where he assumed he could travel without hindrance ... opens the way for actions of which no one can know the effects

Here are my bullet points on the above statement:

1) They forget to mention he has a warrant for his arrest. Its not like the Swiss police just grabbed him at random. Hey, theres Roman Polanski! His movies suck! Get em!

2) Never assume. You know what happens when you assume.

3) These actions you speak of? Are you afraid the police can come on your private jets and take your cocaine? Does this mean you will have to pull your own brown M&Ms out of the bag and not be able to demand that a minion remove them as per your contract? Will you be forced to realize you are NOT performing (Well, unless it is in a movie or TV show.) brain surgery?

4) If the Swiss, who have been known for their neutrality and turn a blind eye attitude forever, arrested him...what the fuck does that tell you?

I know what arguments you are going to use:

1)    He has had tragedy in his life.

2)    The victim no longer wants him in jail.

3)    He has led a normal life as a productive member of society.

4)    They knew where he was this entire time.

Well, to answer these in order:

1)    There are millions of people in jail right now for committing crimes who have led much worse lives and THEY couldnt use that excuse.

2)    She did get a financial settlement and might not even have gotten paid yet. Polanksi from documents filed in LA Court say as of 1996 he still owed the entire $500,000 settlement and $100,000 in late fees. But, to be more realistic its not up to a single person (even the victim) to make that decision. If we could let that happen without anarchy we wouldnt need a court system or police.

3)    Hes led a normal life BECAUSE he wasnt in jail.

4)    True. But France wasnt going to extradite one of its famous (He was born there.) citizens and we werent going to send in the Green Berets to grab him.

What I dont get is a lot of people on the petition are mothers and fathers. Are you telling me they never stopped to think What if this was my daughter?? Oh...I know...They dont want to be forced to think they ARENT better then the poor slobs who sit through their movies and TV shows. That would make them realize they need to answer to society just like the rest of us.

UPDATE:

So I saw on CNN.com today that former Panamanian dictator Manuel Noriega will be extradited to France on money laundering charges. I guess the French think it's ok to ask for extradition from the US on very serious charges like money laundering. BUT it would be just plain WRONG of them to have extradited Roman Polanski on child rape charges. That would be going way to far.

The following is 100% Fiction. Take it for what it is.

About four years ago when I found out I was going to Washington D. C. for a work trip I decided to make a small vacation out of it also. I made arrangements with my company to take a full week of paid vacation after my four days of drumming up business for the software company I work for back home.

I had heard the best way to see D.C. was with one of the many charter touring companies. You pay them money they provide transportation and tickets to the various monuments and museums. I would make a whole day of seeing the White House as well as the various presidential and war memorials. I would also spend a few days going through all the buildings of the Smithsonian. That was all fine and good but what I really wanted to see was Arlington National Cemetery.

Arlington, for me anyway, was a duty to go and see. It was a duty, that as an American, I believed I owed to the men and women buried there. Dont get me wrong I didnt view it as a chore or something I did solely because I had to. Rather, I wanted to do it and I actually looked forward to see and walk on this hallowed ground.

It was a beautiful late spring day. It was almost a little too warm for this time of the year but at least it was clear and not muggy.  When the bus dropped us off the tour guide gave us each a return boarding pass with the tour company logo on it that matched the one on the side of the bus and its number. I guess they wanted to make sure we didnt get on the wrong bus. We were told to clip them to our shirts. They were the same kind visitors got when they went into secured government buildings. I guess they were playing up the D.C. angle. We only had about an hour before the cemetery closed for the day. We also had about 20 minutes to walk around before the last changing of the guard ceremony at The Tomb of the Unknowns for the day. I definitely did not want to miss that so I stayed close to the Tomb for the duration of the 20 minutes.

When the time arrived for the ceremony to start I was already in the front row. The crowd was respectfully quiet during the entire ceremony. The members of the 3rd U.S. Infantry (Also known as The Old Guard.) performed their assigned tasks with the utmost military precision and grace. The Tomb Guard marches 21 steps down the black mat behind the Tomb, turns, faces east for 21 seconds, turns and faces north for 21 seconds, then takes 21 steps down the mat and repeats the process 24 hours a day/365 days a year. Through rain, shine, sleet and snow they guard soldiers buried there that are "Known But to God."

After the ceremony most everybody was headed out towards the parking lot. I decided to head towards the Kennedy burial site. It was pretty much deserted when I arrived. There was only a grandfather and his grandson standing in front of the Eternal Flame. The grandfather was leaning over and speaking to the child in hushed tones. I waited until they moved away before I approached. 

The Flame is about ten feet away from the walk way. It was in the center of a bricked patio like structure with grass coming up between the gaps between irregular shaped large paving stones. It didnt look like an unkempt walk way in which weeds and grass were starting to push their way through the gaps. The grass in between the stones looked well cared for. Weirdly enough there was only a small chain roping visitors on the concrete walk and away from the burial site and the actual Flame itself. In front of the Flame are the grave markers.

I was reading the grave markers and starting to tear up a little bit. I didnt know these people. I hadnt even been alive when they were taken away from us. Other then Mrs. Kennedy I had only seen them in black and white news footage. I was very deep in thought and trying not to break down and cry like a baby when I realized someone was standing next to me.

 I knew it was a man. I could see his black shoes as my head was bowed trying to control the sobs. The next thing I know a handkerchief came into my view as my head stayed bowed and he said with a clearly Boston accent:

'Here. I always bring extra with me when I visit them.'

I wiped my tears and started to thank him. When I looked up into his face my brain took a good three seconds to register who had given me the handkerchief. While my brain was catching up I noticed he was wearing a well made suit to go with the black shoes. He was in his seventies by that time and his white hair was thinning a little. His famous face had a lot of wrinkles on it. He had lived a long and sometimes very trying life. It was all written on his face like a grandfatherly Marlboro man.

'You know' he started 'I come up here a lot. I try to come up when I can just visit them without all the cameras and reporters looking for a photo op.'

I just nodded stupidly.

'When I was four Jack used to carry me around on his shoulders a lot. I guess he was just practicing for when he carried us all around on his shoulders.' He said while looking at the plaque for President John F. Kennedy.

He then looked up and said 'Dont feel bad crying for them. Jack and Bobby were taken away way too young.  There is no shame in crying for them because they deserve our tears for their efforts of bettering our lives but remember the living for those are the ones that deserve our efforts for bettering their lives.'

He then did something profoundly human and simple. He reached his hand out and rested it on my shoulder as if reassuring me for my loss.

He then said 'Thanks for coming to remember them.' And turned and walked away.

It was then that I noticed five or six people standing behind us in sunglasses and ear pieces with wires coming out of them running down their shirts. I realized the Secret Service had pretty much kept all other visitors away from the site and I was alone now because of that fact.  

I was still trying to figure out what just happened when I remembered I had to catch a bus back to my hotel. I started walking quickly back to my bus. I didnt think it would be very dignified to run through a cemetery, let alone the most famous one in America.

When I came around the corner to the parking lot my heart sank. At first it looked like there was only a government vehicle left in the lot. Then I turned my head left and saw my bus had pulled up to the curb with the door open. The bus itself didnt catch my eye but rather the Secret Service guy waving me ahead did.

When I got to the door he talked into his mike that was in his right hand just like on TV. He said 'VIP is boarding bus now.' He then turned to the driver and said 'The Senator greatly appreciates you and your companys patience in this matter. '

He nodded to me and started walking towards the only other vehicle in the lot, the government car. I got on the bus in a daze and hardly registered the mostly shocked and questioning stares I got before I sat down. It was a very quiet trip back to the hotel room.

I boarded a plane home the next day. I had almost convinced myself that yesterday did not happen. Well, at least not how I remembered anyway.

As I write this shortly after his passing I cry a little knowing we are worse off with him gone but I also remember I need to better the lives of those around me. He had done it through the tears of his tragic loss of brothers. I think I could do it through the tears for a man I had only met once.

Every few years we are reminded, for better or for worse, what a true hero is. Just before 9/11 Bud Light was running radio ads entitled Real American Heroes. In these ads an announcer describes to us how the guy who invented the drink umbrella that keeps our drink a few degrees cooler by shading it is a Real American Hero while a cheesy rock ballad singer expounds its virtues in the background. After 9/11 when we were painfully reminded that one type of hero is someone who runs into a burning building while everyone else is running out Bud Light quietly changed the title of the radio ads to Real Men of Genius.

Today Les Paul died at age 94. For those of you who dont know Les Paul invented the solid body guitar and multi track recording. Multi track recording basically allows all the instruments and voices to have their own dedicated track on a recording. Every type of music, TV show, commercial and movie made today uses multi track recording in some way or another. Think about that for a few seconds.  Everything we hear on the radio, CD, MP3, TV, and DVD uses this basic premise. Everything.  Now think about your favorite band. Chances are they have a guitar. Chances are they have at least one solid body guitar if not more they use constantly. The enormity of Les Pauls contribution to music and other forms of entertainment cannot be over stated. Was he a hero? No. Not really. Was he a visionary? Absolutely! Will his inventions be around for a very, very long time? Yes.

Another thing happened today. A hero came home. The remains of Navy pilot Michael Scott Speicher were returned home after 18 years of being buried in an unmarked grave in Iraq. Who was he? He was the first official US casualty in the first Gulf War when his FA-18 Hornet was shot down on the first night of the war. Why did we bother? He deserved to come home. We are the only nation on Earth that actively searches out its fallen soldiers and brings them home. The US Government is the ONLY government in the world that has an entire branch dedicated to the return of all fallen service men and women.  This branch is called Joint POW-MIA Accounting Command (JPAC) and the members are ready to go around the world at a moments notice to search for a fallen US Soldier. Why? Well, quite frankly, those fallen soldiers gave up their lives fighting for us. They gave them up for you and me. It is the absolute least that we can do as a Nation. When they joined up for military service they promised to protect and defend us. We in return have promised to never stop looking for them and bring them home no matter what.

I think we got the better part of the deal.

In the last couple of days it has come out in the news that David Ortiz and Manny Ramirez tested positive for steroids in 2003. It seems no one in Major League Baseball that can do anything cares. Why? They put butts in the seats. And as much as the fans call it a sport MLB is in actuality a business. It is a business that is shy to bite the hands that feed it, namely the big name star players. These current players are pretty much immune to any type of disciplinary actions due to the lawyers and players reps. Oh sure they might get a slap on the wrist with suspensions or fines as long as they promise not to do it again. But there is one silver lining. Hopefully, the only way they are getting into the Baseball Hall of Fame is the same we can, by buying a ticket.

What does this mean in the long term? Well for one entrance to Cooperstown will be as scarce as World Series titles for Boston. Baseball was held in high regard as Americas pastime. Any hard working kid with talent could be the next Ruth, Gehrig or DiMaggio. Now any kid with a mediocre work habit who takes shortcuts can stick a needle in his ass and hit a ball 500 ft. Yeah simplistic but you get my point. MLB may not want to do anything but individuals can do something. Individuals like the Baseball Writers who vote players into the Hall.

These individuals may be the only hope for retribution. They dont have to explain why they voted for who they voted for. They dont have to explain to majority owners or players reps or lawyers or even the players themselves why they did or didnt vote a certain way. They can just vote. Maybe the Baseball Writers will keep the cheaters out of the Hall of Fame. If the 2009 vote is any indication we are on a fine start. Mark McGwire, who I was a big fan of while I was growing up, famously told the US Congress he wasnt there to talk about the past fell short by almost 300 votes for admission. That may be the way the votes for the players of the steroid era may go as they become eligible. We can only hope.

I saw this on CNN.com:  http://www.cnn.com/2009/CRIME/03/12/sex.offender.gps/index.html

And it got me to thinking that we need to be harder on these types of so-called human beings. It seems to me as soon as you touch a child in an inappropriate manner you GIVE UP YOU RIGHTS in society period. These pieces of shit need to be locked away FOREVER. They cannot be rehabilitated, they cannot be fixed, and they certainly cannot be allowed to walk around in public searching for their next victim.

Now before you start posting any crap about They deserve a chance to TRY and be rehabilitated OR theyre sick like alcoholics are. Hear me out. These kinds of people are hard wired into doing these kinds of acts. They either get off on it and/or they view it as something they need to do.  Either way the only way to stop them is to lock them up and throw away the key. These things they do to children arent like being an alcoholic.  If an alcoholic has a relapse and drinks a bottle of vodka chances are he is the only one who pays for it. Yeah, I know there could be other problems: What if he drives his car? What if he beats his wife? Well, those are things that MIGHT happen.  If these sick fucks fall off the wagon somebodys kid IS going to get hurt or worse end up dead.

I also don't see this as a Liberal or Conservative view. If you see it as such you REALLY need to stop, back away from your political party and stop seeing EVERYTHING in the news as slanted left or right. Sometimes things are just what they are. This is a common sense view.

It is time for judges to be hard on this scum. Throw them in jail until they get hauled out in a casket.  Let them get raped and feel what their victims felt.  And for the sake of everyones kids STOP LETTING THEM OUT ON PAROLE hoping they come around. What the fuck do you think they have been thinking of doing when they get out prison all those years? Getting a burger and a coke at McDonalds? NO. These guys fantasize about this stuff 24/7. They have been thinking about their next victim and how long its been.

It has been less than a week since the inauguration of the new President and I am still feeling the pride we as Americans should all feel. I feel the pride in the fact that America has made one more step towards the fulfillment of the promises of our founders. I feel the pride in the fact that for over 200 years we have changed leaders without military action or bloodshed. I feel the pride in knowing the Presidency is always bigger than just one man or woman.

We all know the promise that all men are created equal. Through the decades America has not always lived up to that promise but we as Americans will always be the first to point that out. Rather it is the ideal we strive for, the perfect game pitched, the perfect SAT score, which we recognize as a goal. We always try to go forward. Sometimes we make progress, sometimes we dont. Each new plateau reached brings us ever closer to the ideals of democracy and equality that were written down in 1776. When we get there we look around and say So, this is what it looks like. When we get that kind of image in our heads it is an incredible motivator for the next torch bearer or bearers to bring us forward.

What other country on Earth can claim a bloodless, orderly change of the head of state for 225 plus years? What other country can say it has never had a military coup in that long? In the countries with a monarchy the king or queen usually must die for the next one in line to be granted the title. In the dictatorships the guy with the backing of the Army usually prevails. In America we demand and expect the transition of power to be neat, orderly, and decisive without the intervention of our military. In America we have a loyal military that always serves the country and not any one man.

The Presidency has been around as long as America. There has been many a man that has risen to the challenges of the office. Before George Washington was elected President he gave up his commission as General of all the Armies. No other person with that much total power had ever given it up. When the other generals wanted to overthrow the Continental Congress and install him as a king-like head of state, it was Washington himself that talked them out of it. One of his more famous quotes is I did not fight a war against George the Third to become George the First. During the Civil War Abraham Lincoln was battling depression in his own life as well as a war. He was, arguably, the only man that could have kept the union together. He was willing to do anything to keep the States United. The list is staggering: FDR, Kennedy, and Teddy Roosevelt in the last 100 years alone have been recognized as some of the greatest Presidents in history. Not for whom they were but for whom they had to become as President. No scandal great (Watergate) or small (Monica Lewinsky) has ever been able to tarnish the Presidency permanently.

I do not envy President Obama. Not only does he have the hardest job in the world but he gets to take over in the middle of the biggest depression in almost 100 years while a war is going on. I truly hope (Rather selfishly I might add.) he will be the type of President that future generations will be able to put in the same category as a Washington or Lincoln. I wish him the best of luck. He will need it.

Let me start by saying I do not, nor did I ever, like President George W. Bush. I think he is an idiot. He didnt have the balls to go to Vietnam so he created his own: Iraq. Every time he talks I cringe and think Fuck. Stop talking. Youre embarrassing me in front of the world. And while he is trying to spit out a complete sentence he is leaning on the podium! How fucking lazy are you?

So, when I saw the journalist in Iraq through his shoes at President Bush I had mixed emotions. On one hand I thought Where the hell is the Secret Service? Stop him! Hes endangering my President. But on the other I thought Isnt there a new episode of Stargate: Atlantis on now?

And then it hit me.

Irony, in all of its shiny glory.

Here is an Iraqi who a few years earlier couldnt even SAY anything against the Hussein Regime for fear of him AND his whole family disappearing in the night, being tortured, and then buried in an unmarked mass grave. Then a few years later this guy insults President Bush in a way that would make, if done to any other Iraqi, scream for blood. Showing the soles of your shows to someone is an insult. THROWING them is even worse. This guy finally grew a set and USED them. If there were more people like him years ago our troops would be at home where they belong.

I understand the world hates President Bush and by extension the American people. But, dont be a fucking hypocrite about it. These people can do things now they couldnt even dream about years ago. Yes, war is hell. Yes, innocent people have died on both sides. But they couldnt exactly VOTE Saddam out of office. Even a Civil War would have been bloody. You cant complain about a situation and then when it changes in the only way possible condemn the people who facilitated the change. The Iraqi people dont want us there. Fine. I understand. Bring our troops home and let Iraqis deal with Iraq. Bring the troops home.

They dont deserve to be there.

The Iraqis dont deserve for them to be there either.