Chapter 76.5: Another Day, Another Month...

Soon we will enter June, but in the final beautiful days of May, I sense a calmness in the New York area. For the Mets have started to win.

The streak is modest, to be sure; three game winning streaks should be commonplace for good teams. But these are Willie's Mets. Willie Randolph, who many fans thought would be fired this week, has survived so far and has his team looking more stable (albeit at the .500 mark) than they've looked since banging the Yankees ... my goodness, was it only two weeks ago!

As coincidence would have it, Willie's former colleague, Joe Torre, was back in New York as well, his Dodgers competing against the Mets, which allowed for an interesting article to appear in the New York Times. Harvey Araton, in his column, noted that the Yankees weren't quite as whiny when Torre was being insulted last fall as was being remembered this spring.

Araton writes:

Last October, Mike Mussina said of Torre, “If we don’t perform, it shouldn’t be a reflection on his ability.” Johnny Damon said: “We’re not just playing for him. We’re playing for a bunch of players in there.” ... Alex Rodriguez was too busy opting out and begging back in to worry about a manager. Jorge Posada and Mariano Rivera were supposedly factoring Torre into their free-agent strategy, but the Yankees substituted an alternate Joe (Girardi) along with keys to the Steinbrenner vault. The band played on.

And the Mets fan looks at the standings, recognizes that the team is 3.5 games out of first place after taking two of three from the first-place Marlins (who are on their own three game losing streak), and says "Ok, Willie's safe for now. But don't let it happen again!"

We're fickle, we Mets fans.

As I've said to fellow Mets fans, who else is there right now? Short of importing Bobby Valentine from Japan, I don't think the Mets have a clear option that's better than -- or more importantly different from -- Willie. Jerry Manuel was a decent manager in Chicago (Cammy, Frank, correct me if I'm wrong), but his casual approach eventually allowed the players to get lazy. Laziness and complacency are killing the Mets. As for other options that have been voiced: Ken Oberkfell (Mets AAA manager) might have the chops, I really don't know; Gary Carter shot himself in the foot, which he'd already shoved in his mouth; Jim Fregosi doesn't impress me; and Tom Kelly is too smart to leave retirement for the New York circus.

I'd love to hear other people suggest other managers for the Mets, because I'm not convinced Willie's going to remain regardless of this little winning streak.

What I'd really love to see are Carlos Delgado and Carlos Beltran start to hit like they used to, Luis Castillo demonstrate why Omar lavished millions on him this past winter, and the pitching staff to work consistently and well into the latter third of the game. Is that too much to ask of a "championship-calibre team"?

Chapter 76.4: Cat Calls

I know that I shouldn't expect much of a cat, but our boy's been clammoring for the past 10 minutes for me to play with him. I've been trying to write (having already "enjoyed" cleaning the gutters; God, that stuff is disgusting!), and he keeps popping his mouth off, flicking his tail at my nose, and bopping his head under my chin.

Or maybe he's saying, if you let me out in the back yard on this lovely day, you can finish the last few pages of revisions to your novel in the porch you cleaned up. Wouldn't that be nice?

Maybe with a scotch.

Chapter 76.3: Got Change for a Dollar?

Have you finally gotten used to the "new" designs of U.S. currency? Well, it may be about to change once again, and possibly in a major way. The U.S Court of Appeals ruled that our current currency design descriminates against people who are blind.

While the five dollar bill has that big huge "5" in one of the back corners, that's not helpful for people who can't actually see. So our money may have to become more like some European countries, which make their bills of different sizes.

The government's argument was pretty flimsy, as the article points out. They claimed that people can help the blind to distinguish between bills (we all know how that can work out if a cashier is unscrupulous) or crease bills according to their designation so they know which is which. (Do the blind only receive uncreased bills when they receive change, and are they certain the unscrupulous cashier has given them appropriate change?)

The court made the right decision.

To be honest, I'm surprised the government hadn't fixed this years ago. Our coins are purposely shaped; a dime has ridges to help distinguish it from a penny, so too a quarter to keep it distinct from a nickel or GASP! a Sacagewea or Susie B buck.

Now comes the tricky part.

I'd imagine that at some point during the next president's new administration, there will be a commission that is tasked with overhauling U.S. currency. Shape will be considered. Color. Size. And there'll be complaints from cash register corporations that must redesign their registers, and vending machine companies who'll have to install new thingamajigs to read the bills. There'll be debates on the floor of Congress about whether we should do away with the penny and possibly a movement to get rid of the $1 dollar bill; perhaps we'll see the Thomas Jefferson $2 bill become more common. [I had to add this link, which I find very funny. Apparently one of the reasons for an anecdotal resurgence in the use of $2 bills is because they're commonly used in strip clubs. Boy, I've been out of circulation a long time!]

The Times article notes that the altered currency might open up new hiring opportunities for the blind, but I suspect that age-old prejudice will keep the blind struggling to find jobs to which they're best suited.

Stay tuned. This ought to be worth several years of late night humor and frustration. And by the time they've figured out what to do, we'll all be using debit cards for everything.

Chapter 76.2: Time to Strike the Match, Willie

I'm sorry to say this, but I think it's time for Willie Randolph to go. I won't belabor the point, because the arguments I'll make are pretty much the same ones that have been bandied about already.

The fact is, the Mets are playing like an uninspired, mediocre team. Billy Wagner is right that the players need to be held accountable; moreover, he's correct in saying he's not the one who should be answering reporters' questions about what's wrong with the team. (He's a reliever, already! He's not the reason the bullpen has been so bad. The guy hasn't given up an earned run all year.) But there's more to it than just that. The team is listless.

Don't blame the injuries, either. No one really expected much from Pedro or El Duque. The team should be hitting better than this. Part of the problem is that Carlos Delgado is past his prime. We could tolerate a .260 batting average from him with 20-22 home runs and maybe 80-90 RBI if Carlos Beltran were hitting, but neither of them are producing as expected. For that matter, neither is David Wright at the moment. Thank God for Ryan Church! But what has happened to Jose Reyes?

What kills me is that the way the Mets are playing is not what I have come to expect of a Willie Randolph club. When he was playing, Randolph was a hard-nosed, strong-willed player, proud of his abilities and too stubborn to accept losing. Ask him if he's worried about his team's performance now, however, and he gives an answer of "No, not yet. ... It's just one game. ... You can't judge a season on a couple games..."

Willie, a quarter of the season is behind you. If you can't get this club playing like champions by now, why should you be allowed to keep at it?

Ignite that fire in your belly, Willie. We all know it was there in the past. But if you don't find the fire, you'll find yourself fired.

Chapter 76.1: A Contrast in Humanitarian Crises

Clearly, all the world is aware of the two natural catastrophes that befell countries in Asia recently. Cyclone Nargis ravaged Myanmar/ Burma days before a massive earthquake rocked the Sichuan region of China.

Neither Myanmar, which has been under military rule for the better part of forty-five years, nor China, the last Communist power in the world, is known for being the bastion of humanitarian work. Indeed, protests against Chinese treatment of Tibet have seemingly called into question the legitimacy of this summer's Beijing Olympic games. And that's not even the half of the atrocities that have been laid at the feet of numerous Chinese strongmen.

But this quote in a New York Times article reflects one important difference between the emergency response in China and that of the military junta government in Myanmar:

“I am Grandpa Wen Jiabao,” the prime minister said as he watched two children being pulled from the rubble, according to Xinhua, the official state news agency. “Hold on, kids! You’ll definitely be rescued.”

The difference is a level of humanity. A matter of respect. But a question lingers: Is it real?

Of course, it's a comment from a politician. And politicians, in general, lie through their teeth. The article goes on to describe terrible acts of dehumanization in which parents are not allowed to view the bodies of their children. These are accusations by the people, not ironclad facts, but one fact remains clear: the people of China are devastated. I can only imagine how bad it is in Myanmar, where bodies may lie festering in the Irrawaddy delta; or perhaps worse, they may have been removed by a government that fears what might happen if the people were allowed to know the truth. They might rise up and topple them.

Neither of those nations deserve praise for their response to these humanitarian relief efforts. Indeed, for the country of Myanmar/Burma it may be the beginning of the end of military rule. Surely, no one can be so insulted without striking back. If I were a survivor in the Irrawaddy delta, I'd consider the actions of the Burmese leaders to be dehumanizing. And like a ghost, I'd arise.

I'm proud that this country neither deserves nor desires such revolution. I'm no fan of the Bush administration. I don't trust many of the words that come out of the White House; for that matter, I take the statements coming out of Democratic-controlled Congress with several grains of salt. But at least here we have a media that is generally able (albeit not always willing) to root out the bullshit and find the truth. They, like the government, need to be prodded but not eradicated.

In the wake of the Katrina tragedy, the Bush administration was raked over the coals for responding too slowly, for allowing too many people -- too many African Americans, especially --to be left vulnerable and powerless. It was a life-changing time for many in the United States; those fools who didn't recognize what 9/11 meant for this nation I hope recognized what Katrina meant and still means. But President Bush took his criticism and I believe he is well aware that his legacy will reflect his lack of leadership during the Katrina debacle. I respect that he's willing to be criticized and possibly vilified by American history; he's not going to try to rewrite it.

This isn't Myanmar; this isn't China.

Chapter 76: Are You an Australian Platypus Or a Tasmanian Platypus?

If you're like me, you were fascinated by cryptozoology and the eccentric animals of Australia as a kid. Ok, maybe I didn't know the term cryptozoology until I was past my dinosaur period, but what I'm getting at is: Who doesn't like a platypus?

So when this story ran in the Washington Post the other day, I knew I'd have to blog about it. At some point after second grade, I must have forgotten that the platypus wasn't discovered until 1799. Of course, it wouldn't surprise me if people in Tasmania knew about them in the same way that the folks in Madagascar were aware of the coelacanth, that is: food. What I knew about platypi (I prefer the Latin plural) was that they were mammals that laid eggs, they make milk but have no nipples, and they have poison for a defense mechanism like a snake. Yes sirree, the platypus is one interesting animal.

Now, it turns out they're even more interesting than was previously imagined. They have approximately as many genes as humans and two-thirds more molecular bits of DNA (sorry if I'm dumbing it down). "The genome was completely unknown, and we knew it was going to be fairly weird," said Jennifer Marshall Graves of Australian National University in Canberra, who led part of the analysis after the St. Louis team derived the basic sequence. "You'd look at some of these repetitive sequences and think, 'What on Earth is that?' "

What on Earth indeed! These creatures can't even be straight forward in determining sex. For all those folks who freak out at the seeming variety of sexual preferences people exhibit, watch out for the platypus. Where we have X and Y chromosomes (double X for females, XY for males), the platypus has ten different chromosomes!

For all my forgetfulness, I'm fairly certain that I never knew about this final point: Poet Ogden Nash appreciated the platypus. He wrote:

I like the way it raises its family
Partly birdly, partly mammaly

Amen, Odgen.

Chapter 75.9: Re-Energized

It's rainy and miserable outside, I've not had my supper yet, and I am daunted by the great number of things I hope to accomplish during the weekend and the challenges that face me at work next week. So why do I feel so energetic?

I won't go through all the details, but I feel like I'm accomplishing things. The book is moving along again and will soon be ready to venture out on its own, tapping on the shoulders of agents and trying to call attention to itself. They're so cute when they're precocious. While I had my difficulties on the train this week with balky outlets that refused to power my laptop, I still was able to make headway on these final edits.

I also received a nice comment on The Elephant's Bookshelf on a post from last August. Little things like that make me smile ... hint hint hint.

Perhaps I won't get into the 200s with my final revisions tomorrow. I might not run as many miles as I intend in the morning. Who knows, I might forget to change the storm windows or clean out my car. The Mets might lose. I may have to perform CPR on Sunday. But for now, on Friday night, before I've poured a smooth dram of scotch, the weekend is looking good. Clear!

Chapter 75.8: Spam Turns 30!

Happy birthday, Spam. (The email, not the meat product) You must look so young because you're confident, having used some of the special products that you sell ... nudge, nudge, say no more.

In one of those little stories that make reading a weekend paper so much fun, the Washington Post has provided us not only with the name but the nature of the first spammer. No surprise, it was a salesman. A guy named Gary Thuerk, who may never be remembered for anything else by the rest of humanity and probably will remain a footnote as it is. Surely, he doesn't get any royalties for every unsolicited bit of email garbage sent since. But wouldn't that be a pretty penny!

I find it mildly amusing that Bill Gates predicted the eradication of spam by 2004. He's got a better chance of ridding the world of malaria, which he's been trying to do for years now -- it will take many more, but I hope he and his foundation continue their quest. Spam will prove to be a more resilient case, I suspect.

In a side note, the article states that Viagara turned 10 in March. I can only imagine what percentage of spam is due to male enhancement. How long until we hear tales of Spam Babies graduating high school?