Guilt

When I was attended Windsor Union Elementary School in rural Northern California—that would be back in the 50s children—we carried our own lunches to school. I brought 5 cents a day--”milk money”--to buy a carton of cold milk to have with my lunch. We weren't wealthy, but sometimes my Mom would put in a Twinkie or a chocolate cream filled frosted cupcake, or some other treat. Always made by Hostess. It was a special treat. My kids got the same treatment. But my grand-kids won’t. Hostess is liquidating due to a protracted strike by the Bakery, Confectionery, Tobacco Workers and Grain Millers Union . Hostess is gone, as are the jobs of their 18,000-some employees, and one more piece of the American landscape. Union strikers are probably proud of themselves. The standing joke about Twinkies was that they would be one of the few food items that could withstand a nuclear blast. But they couldn't withstand the union.

I make fun of The Weather Channel often enough. It's not like I seek them out to ridicule them—they do it to themselves, like now. TWC has taken it on itself to begin naming winter storms. I'm not certain at all when TWC decided to name every flurry this winter. I became aware when a Nor'Easter came into New England after the most recent hurricane, and TWC called it “Athena”. Really? Athena? I dismissed it. After all, it was just once, and, well, those New Yorkers are pretty self-involved, so naming their most recent tragedy seems OK—These are the same people who root for the Yankees. These are the same folks who called the 9-11 attacks on the World Trade Center “ground zero”--9-11 was an act of war and simply awful, but wasn't really quite the same as a nuclear blast, but, well, it was New York. I understand. When I turned on TWC this morning to get my local forecast, I saw that an winter snowstorm in Utah has been named “Brutus”. Uh...

We got hammered by Frankenstorm too—not like those unfortunates on the Seaboard, but we still got hit. That meant that I had some time on my hands while the wind was howling, and the rain was pounding.....Television Notes from the Rust Belt..... Youngstown, Ohio I watched the entire 13 episode run of Terra Nova on Netflix, streamed through my ROKU device into the wide screen high def TV. What a thrill, I tell you. This stinker had all the possibilities. It was a good set-up and good people were involved, but, like Lost, it suffered from lazy writing and not enough story to fill an hour a week. In other words, Fox screwed the pooch here and wasted a really good concept. Essentially, future Earth is polluted, so groups of Earthlings time travel back to prehistoric times for a fresh beginning, complete with futuristic gadgets, but with dinosaurs. How can this be anything but a blockbuster, I ask you? Seemed to have some elements of Mad Max, Lost, the X-Files, Seaqu...

So, being a fan of the San Francisco Giants, I turned on the MLB network this morning to see a little bit about the Giants winning the National League Pennant and going on to the World Series. Instead, here's what I saw and heard: Injured first baseman Lance Berkman of the St. Louis Cardinals crying that a broken bat single (by Hunter Pence of the Giants), that, incidentally, drove in 3 runs, should have been called a dead ball. And then having the normally reasonable Harold Reynolds of the show agreeing. I get it that San Francisco isn't very close to New York, and that according to the MLB network New York is the center of the known universe. I GET IT. So, here's my suggested solution: Take away the three runs that Pence drove in. That will leave the Giants with a paltry 6 runs. Then they will have won the deciding 7 th game of the League Championship Series over the Cardinals by 6 to nothing instead of 9 to nothing. Wait.....did he say “NOTHI...

Felix Baumgartner is a daredevil sort. Or so I have been told. He most recently made news by jumping out of a balloon that was 24 miles up in the air, parachuting to Earth from that lofty height. All on behalf of Red Bull. Be still my beating heart. Felix was born in 1969 in Austria. And, while it's true that at that time I was a Sergeant in the Military Police in West Germany, I deny paternity. If allegations are made, I'll demand the well-known Maury Povich DNA test which will clear my name, once and for all. I found out about Felix and his dare-devilshness by watching, of all things, The Weather Channel this morning. Seems that the Today show had interviewed Felix regarding his exploits, and The Weather Channel (TWC) re-played that interview in full. What it had to do with the weather is beyond me. In addition, TWC reported that on tomorrow's morning show, Al Roker will personally interview Felix for TWC. Someone..........Anyone..........

The San Francisco Giants (my team, in case you were wondering) are still in it. They play at home tonight against the Cards, a worthwhile opponent. The Giants are hanging on by their fingernails, needing two consecutive victories to advance to the World Series. I have to work tonight, so I'll try to not find out the outcome, and watch the game on MLB.TV when I get home. It's an amazing age we live in—I can watch the game as if it were live, complete with commercial breaks—after the fact. An amazing age, I tell you. So, what with Buster Posey winning the batting title, and being named the National League Comeback Player of the Year, I started wondering whatever became of Scott Cousins..........You remember him, Dontcha? Cheap shot last year at home plate that cost Posey (and, by extension, the Giants) their year. It's been pretty well documented by baseball pundits that the collision was within the rules, but not necessary. That's cute. Legal but unnece...

Youngstown, Ohio It's getting on towards winter here, and that means colder weather, and that means more indoor time, and that means.....Movie Notes from the Rust Belt. Today's feature, courtesy of Netflix streamed through my ROKU box into my wide screen high def TV is The Big Combo from 1955. Why did I watch The Big Combo you ask? Simple. I thought it might be about a really large order of fries with a double burger, or maybe a story about a four piece band that adds a saxophone player, making it, well, a really big combo. Nope, this is a film noir of the era. Not bad, either. Plenty of story here, what with good guys and bad guys, blond women and brunettes, plenty of gun play and witty repartee.   Hungarian native Cornel Wilde plays the hero, Police Lt. Diamond. Cornel came to the United States with his family when he was 8 years old, and was a champion fencer, gaining a spot on the U.S. Olympic team in 1936, but turned it down to be in a play—He w...