Chapter 77.4: Watch Out for that ... Asteroid

My, my, has it been a century already? Gosh, how the time flies! Yes, indeed, it was 1908 when the Tunguska Event occurred. Even now, it raises interest, especially among scientists.

For those millions who don't know about it, the Tunguska Event was a massive disaster that could have been worse. It's described in the above Wikipedia entry as the "air burst" of a large meteor that destroyed large sections of Russia exactly one hundred years ago today (regardless of whether you use the Julian calendar or not). I've also heard a theory that I don't see in Wikipedia (thank God) that suggests it was the result of an experiment by Nikola Tesla. If Wikipedia isn't going to spread that bit of nonsense, then I'll go no further with it.

Suffice it to say, the Tanguska Event remains one of the more intriguing mysteries of the twentieth century. The centennial reminds me that the Planetary Society is focusing on near earth objects (NEOs) this year. People who like a good scare should read up on these nonfictional calamities from space. Of course, if you've seen Deep Impact, then you have some idea of what NEOs can do.

If I may go off on a tangent (and it's my blog, so I suppose I can do whatever I want), the recent death of George Carlin has inspired several repeats of his classic television performances. This past Saturday, for instance, the original Saturday Night Live "pilot" was re-aired, which he hosted. Last week, HBO ran a series of his comedy specials. And I was reminded not only of how funny Carlin could be (and repititious, but, hey, that's comedy!), but also how exacting he was about language. As a writer and editor, I appreciate that.

But one bit has stuck with me. He spewed a fair amount of invective on the crying environmentalists who clamor for us to serve as better stewards of the earth. "The earth is fine," Carlin said. "It's people who may have a problem." The earth is a self-correcting system. It may take time, but the earth eventually will shake off humanity like fleas if it needs to.

Yes indeed, the earth will likely outlive us. We might find a way to scorch its surface or something may plummet from the heavens, but short of a well-placed laser shot from a death star, the planet should be able to continue orbiting the sun for eons after we've been lost to history. Food for thought.

Chapter 77.3: Honey, I'm Home!

Possibly the most significant "welcome home" moment in literary history has been given a pinpoint date. That is, if you believe in the scientists' interpretations of some possibly metaphoric allusions.

According to the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States, researchers have identified April 16, in 1178 BC as the day on which Odysseus returned home to win the archery competition as well as the heart of faithful Penelope — and then proceeded to murder the 109 suitors and the dozen frisky maids.

Feel free to comment with quibbles, for there are many possibilities. For example, was that moment one of "the most heralded events of Western literature" as the Times describes it? Are the scientists taking liberties with their interpretations? Was Plutarch right in believing that Homer (or whoever is the true author of this epic tale – if there is one) was describing an eclipse when he relates: "The Sun has been obliterated from the sky, and an unlucky darkness invades the world"?

I'm open to getting into a playful online discussion about this whole thing. I find it fascinating. I don't pretend to be an expert, but the idea of getting to the exact date of such a seminal moment in the history of Western literature strikes me as fairly exciting!

Chapter 77.2: A Sense of Normalcy

It's official: Tom Brokaw will take over the hosting duties of Meet the Press, the most important Sunday morning news and public policy show in the United States. Of course, one of the main reasons why it had become so significant is because of the effort the late Tim Russert put into it.

In my post offering my thoughts on Russert's untimely death, I openly pondered whether Brokaw would host. While I didn't come straight out and say it in the blog, Brokaw was who I was hoping would take the job.

To me it makes the most sense. Brokaw is the first person I thought of as capable of doing the job well while maintaining the sense of decorum that it requires (automatically cutting Chris Matthews out) through at least the election. I for one will miss Russert on election night. Brokaw will offer a sense of normalcy to what I suspect will be yet another odd election. At least President Bush can't win this time.

Soldier on, Mr. Brokaw, and I wish you well. America is watching and looking for you to pick up that torch and carry it forward.

Chapter 77.1: Summertime, and the Living Is ...

We are closing in on the summer solstice. Last one to Stonehenge is a smelly druid!

I was a little surprised to discover that the moment of solstice -- that is, the exact minute at which the earth's axis is most oriented toward the sun (yet, ironically, the earth is farther away from the sun than it is during our winter, at least for those of us in the northern hemisphere) -- is at 11:59 GMT tonight. Seems like an odd time for it to occur, but I'm no solar scientist.

These days, summer isn't nearly as much fun as when I was a kid. Sure, the beers that I drink are legal, but that's not as much fun as when I was 17. And I haven't worked as a camp counselor for a loooong time now, so working outside with a couple built-in trips to a beach that I don't have to pay for is a thing of the past.

But it's still summer time, the best season of the year. Enjoy, everyone! And crack open a cold one for me.

Chapter 77: See Ya Later, Willie

To me, the Willie Randolph situation had become so unimportant that I'd stopped watching the Mets. Yes, that may sound like a contradiction, but my point is this: The Mets are terrible, and unless I hear that things are actually turning around, I probably won't watch much.

I thought about turning the game on late last night, but before I turned the channel from Colbert, I fell asleep. The next thing I know, REM is playing on the Ferguson show. Time for bed.

I wasn't aware of Willie being fired till I heard it on the train platform. I'm not quite sure Omar Minaya flew them all out to California only to fire them. It seems like a pathetic way to avoid the heat in New York. At this point, I don't much care. The team is playing miserably, and I can't bear to watch.

It's not so much that they fired Willie. I can certainly accept that. But to do it in such a callous, cowardly way is simply despicable. The way the firing was handled suggests that the problem wasn't so much with the manager -- or even the players -- but with ownership. It's not enough to sign the checks and pave the way for a new stadium. You need some class, too. From the sound of it, they don't have any.

Jerry Manuel, I wish you luck. I'm sure I'll tune in eventually, but I need a moment.

Chapter 76.9: Tim Russert -30-

No, that's not a typo. It's a journalistic symbol that denotes the end of a wire service story.

But Tim Russert, who died today at the all too young age of 58, was no wire service reporter, though if he had been one he would have excelled. Russert was perhaps the premier American TV journalist of his generation. How fitting, then, that Tom Brokaw, who will forever be associated with The Greatest Generation, shoud announce Russert's unexpected death. Indeed, how appropriate for Russert to die on a Friday afternoon, the slowest time in traditional news, when the Saturday edition has basically been put to bed and the editors are starting on their desk stash of scotch in the office before hitting the bar.

Russert wouldn't want to have become the story, but by the same token, he'd want the story out -- and accurate -- as soon as possible.

From what I've heard, Russert was passionate about politics and public policy. He was perfect for Meet the Press. I had hoped to meet him one day.

I can't help but wonder who will succeed him. I wonder if Brokaw might serve as the moderator for Meet the Press on Sunday, though he retired a few years ago. Whoever is the next host of that show will have much to aspire to.

-30-

Chapter 76.8: Buy Me Some Peanuts and Crackerjack

This is the type of helpful travel tip that even non-baseball fans can sink their teeth into. The New York Times has posted an interactive map of the culinary delights available at all the major league baseball stadiums throughout the United States (and Toronto).

While I feel bad for my friends who are fans of the White Sox (not one item on their menu is recommended; the Times says bring a six pack and barter for a dog outside), I can agree with the assessment that the dogs at Shea are edible but way too expensive. (I think everyone can buy a full pack of hot dogs and possibly also the buns for less than the price of one dog at the game.)

I've gone to enough games and eaten enough expensive hot dogs to have decided that I don't need to have a dog and a beer at every game I attend any more. At the prices these days, I'm hard-pressed to attend more than one or two games anyway. But it's nice to fantasize, and if you do go to a game, why not have a game plan about the stadium menu!

Chapter 76.7: National "Take A Hike" Day

You may not have known it, but today is National Trails Day -- or as I like to call it: National 'Take a Hike' Day. While I'm sure the purpose of this day is to encourage people to walk through some of the many beautiful areas of our country -- mountain trails, forested areas, shorelines -- but I like the idea of telling people to take a hike.

The possibilities for corporate tie-ins are incredible. For example, Timberland might love this: "I can tell your wife's a hiker by that Timberland treadmark on your ass... Timberland: Take a hike!"

Ok, probably not what they have in mind.

Of course, today, the last thing I wanted to do was walk around in this oppressive heat; 96 degrees in early June is not my idea of fun. And tomorrow is expected to be worse. I already bought a six pack of cold beer. I'm in for the night, thank you!

So any one who wants me to head to a bar tonight ... Take A Hike!

Chapter 76.6: Remembering Old Friends

I've been blessed with an abundance of friends -- though I'm not always the best at showing my appreciation of their positive influence in my life. It turns out that my friends may be helping me in ways I'd never dreamed of before. Apparently, having more friends helps a person maintain a strong memory longer. Not only that, but my having graduated college helps me in that regard too, though the study also suggests that I should avoid the fatty foods and cholesterol. Damn, and I was really looking forward to eating monkey brains!

The study was conducted over six years, which may mean little, I don't really know, though it seems to suggest a bit more serious research than something that's only studying effects over a 12-18 month period. Surely, the impact of good friends cannot be measured over so short a period.

While it is unclear how social isolation and disconnected from others could affect memory loss, the implication is that seniors should continue to engage in social activities and increase the number of people in their social network. I can see it now: Senior Facebook! [Full disclosure, I do not have a Facebook page]

To be serious for a moment, these types of studies could be incredibly important as we the largest generation enter their senior years. Indeed, many of them don't even see their sixties as being old -- and at this point they're probably right. The fact remains, however, that their health is more likely to deteriorate than improve as they get older, and if engaging in more social interactions with people, developing more friendships with people, will help as life moves inexorably forward, then we should all do our best to help.

So my advice is call your parents regulary. See if they're spending time with their neighbors, their church group, their bridge club, at the nudist beach down the shore, whatever. It will help their memories, and they'll have reason to remember. Encourage them to make new friends and keep the old. They're all gold.