In early September, Mrs. Dubbatrubba and I spent a week on Anna Maria Island, on the Gulf Coast of Florida, sharing a rental house with three other couples that I’ve known since our college days.
Most mornings, we’d head up near the Rod & Reel Pier — a local landmark built in 1947 — to catch the sunrise.
[Photo credit: Peter Unger]
It was lovely.
Here’s what the pier looks like now:
Not just the pier, but the restaurant at the end of the pier: gone. Two powerful hurricanes in less than two weeks will do that to you.
Sure, maybe it’s just coincidence… the double dose of extreme weather.
And maybe the flooding from Hurricane Helene that wreaked havoc in cities like Asheville, NC… supposedly a “climate sanctuary”… was just a fluke.
Or maybe it’s climate change.
Multiple studies have shown that rapid intensification has become more common over the past three decades, pushing large storms to become even stronger…
A similar pattern emerged with Hurricanes Helene and Milton in late September and early October, with both gaining strength rapidly as they passed over unusually warm seas in the Gulf of Mexico. Milton’s winds peaked at 180 mph, making it the world’s strongest storm of 2024 at the time.
What’s the solution? Maybe flipping this script would be a good start:
You can choose to ignore the warning signs if you’d like. But that won’t change the science. Lives are being lost. Communities are being devastated. Paradise is being lost. And time’s a wastin’ to do anything about it.
Growing up in Arkansas, I had no geographic affinity for any professional sports teams. I was free to pick and choose my favorites based on such key criteria (for an 8-year-old) as “cool helmets” (hello Oakland Raiders) and “unique court design” (Boston Celtics). In those prehistoric times, the only exposure to televised baseball was the NBC’s Saturday afternoon “Game of the Week” with broadcasters Curt Gowdy and Tony Kubek.
The Cincinnati Reds were on the Game of the Week quite often back then — it was the era of the Big Red Machine — and I fell head over hillbilly boots for Joe Morgan, Johnny Bench, Tony Perez, Davey Concepcion…
But my favorite player by far was Pete Rose. A gritty grinder, tough as nails. “Charlie Hustle.” I remember when he was Sports Illustrated’s Sportsman of the Year.
The accompanying article in SI mentioned how Pete was so obsessed with getting better at the game that he had a satellite dish installed at his house so he could study opposing pitchers. (With the gift of hindsight, we now know the satellite TV was just a way for him to track his bets.)
My friend Ned and I were at Riverfront Stadium in September of 1985 when Pete broke Ty Cobb’s record.
All hail the new Hit King!
Less than a year later, I got my first real job, working in the marketing department at Turfway Park, a thoroughbred racetrack in Northern Kentucky. Imagine my sheer elation when Pete Rose showed up in the press box where I worked. The 8-year-old inside me was doing cartwheels: “OhmygawditsPete! Pete! Right here! Be cool! Don’t say anything stupid…”
My joy lasted about as long as a six-furlong race. I realized Pete was a bit of an entitled jerk, and clearly hooked on gambling. My bosses allowed him and his cronies (muscle-headed butt kissers – and as we later found out, Pete’s errand boys for booking his bets) and their pneumatic girlfriends/spouses to hang out in the press box, with free food and beverages, because they were really good at increasing the track’s daily receipts. Finally, their loud, boorish behavior got to be too much for those of us trying to earn a living at the track the hard way, so management moved them to another smaller spot (“The Rose Room”) adjacent to the press box. (We could still hear them hooting and hollering, but it was muffled.)
A few years later, Pete was back on the cover of Sports Illustrated, but for a totally different reason:
I didn’t need the results of the official MLB investigation. There was NO doubt in my mind that Pete bet on baseball while he was the manager of the Reds.
“Never meet your heroes” is the old adage, and in this case it certainly was true. Pete was always unabashedly, and unapologetically, Pete, for better or for worse. And it was usually worse. If he could’ve just walked away from the seamy underbelly of sports, he might’ve earned a bit of forgiveness from both MLB and the general public. But that same hard-nosed persistence that made him such a tough out on the field worked against him off it. He set up camp at every casino and race track in the country, selling autographs so he could wager that money right back to his hosts.
Yes, as countless others have already mentioned, now MLB is in cahoots with the gambling that was once so verboten.
But rules are rules, and Pete broke them, and lied about breaking them… he only came “clean” when it helped him sell more books.
I DO think Pete belongs in the Hall of Fame for his feats on the field. This Substack post from Mark Whicker does a nice job profiling a warts-and-all version of Pete. Money quote:
The baseball Hall needs Rose the way the country music Hall needs George Jones or the chess Hall needs Bobby Fischer. It’s not the Hall of Well-Adjusted People. It should be the place where players of impact are recognized. There is no question that baseball was a brighter, richer place because Pete Rose was at its core, or that people who didn’t know a slider from a playground slide knew who Rose was, and that if we all loved what we did the same way Rose loved the game, our national GDP would be unmeasurable.
R.I.P. Charlie Hustle. I’ll always admire your baseball skills, but your off-the-field antics took the bloom off the Rose.
One year ago today, we lost our dear friend Ned. (The “we” in this case includes the countless people Ned befriended during his too-short time on earth.)
I’m reposting my tribute to Ned from last October below. And adding a few more thoughts:
Be kind to everyone you meet, from the cashier at the supermarket on up, like Ned was.
Be caring, like Ned was. Ask others how they are doing.
Be faithful, like Ned was. A devoted husband, a proud parent, and a true-blue friend.
Be open to adventure, like Ned was.
If we could all be a bit more like Ned, the world would be a much better place. And to those of us who were lucky enough to know Ned, our part of the world IS a better place than it was before he came into our lives.
Photographs and Memories (from oct. 2023)
Back in my college days, if we needed someone to get swung around like a helicopter blade during a party, Ned was there.
If we needed someone to dress up like an elf, Ned was there.
Getting handcuffed to a loft? Ned was there.
Beer bongs? Ned was there.
For all of our Spring break adventures, Ned was there.
If we needed someone to man the grill, Ned was there.
At all those parties — in the dorm rooms, in the quad, and at the bars — Ned was there.
Whenever you needed a friend, Ned was there.
After college, when some folks from our gang got married, Ned was there.
At all the memorable moments over the past 40 years , Ned was there. Always.
Then, this past Monday, out of the blue, Ned was no longer there.
Suddenly — You were gone From all the lives You left your mark upon
Ned had a stroke back in May of 2020 – it caused all sorts of health complications. But his departure still came as a shock. Now he’s in another “there” and we’re still here.
Tried to believe But you know it’s no good This is something That just can’t be understood
Every one of us has a special place in our heart for the guy who was good-natured, sweet, kind, caring, smart, attentive, funny… and always up for a good time. Ned is still there. He always will be.
[Sorry I haven’t posted in a while. The man’s been keeping me down. – Ed.]
We did it!
We raised $1,400 for cancer research and care in Greater Cincinnati.
Sure, I was the one pedaling 24 miles in the Ride Cincinnati fundraiser. But I had lots of help.
[Actually I was out of town when the official event took place, but I did my ride the next day, and rode 25 miles, since my supporters went the extra mile for me.]
I had help from every single person who donated.
And my friends Phil and Suzie joined me on the 25-mile ride, which made it a heck of a lot easier and more enjoyable.
My inspiration and motivation was my friend John (a.k.a. “LJ”) who had a cancerous brain tumor removed back in May. Phil and Suzie have known John and his wife Patty since back in our college days, when Suzie and Patty were kicking butt as part of Xavier’s volleyball team.
We’re all connected. Not just John and Patty and Phil and Suzie and me and my donors… everyone has been impacted by cancer. Personally, or within their family, or within their social circle.
Just spokes on a big wheel – with love as the hub.
Yes, I still read comic strips. Not only that, but I also read blog posts from some comic strip creators (not the Dilbert guy, though…).
“Wayno” is the nom de plume for the guy who creates the weekday versions of Bizarro, a single panel strip created by Dan Piraro (who still does the Sunday version). Wayno just won the National Cartoonists Society award for Best Newspaper Panel. Here’s a recent example of his work:
A twist on the ol’ banana peel joke… with a tribute to music/pop art thrown in for good measure:
No wonder Wayno won!
But that’s not why we’re here today. We’re here because of Wayno’s blog. This recent post really hit home for me. It starts with a Captain Beefheart quote:
Art is rearranging and grouping mistakes.
Don Van Vlietaka Captain Beefheart
Don Van Vliet was eminently quotable, though much of what he said could be puzzling, as he had his own manner of forming thoughts and constructing sentences. The line we’re sharing here is straightforward and relatable. It’s also a valuable bit of advice.
My take is that experimentation and editing are required to produce art, and that it’s rarely created fully-formed. The most important step in creating any type of art is starting with something—a mark on a piece of paper or a couple of words, and building from there, keeping what works and setting aside what doesn’t. In fact, getting to a satisfying (if not great) work of art requires making countless mistakes.
It’s so true. And it echoes advice from other creators – Seth Godin’s “ship your work” and Steven Pressfield’s exhortation to fight “the resistance” by doing the work, and Anne LaMott’s concept of “sh*tty first drafts.”
If you want to make something great, start by making something. It might be awful… in fact it probably will be awful. But you’ll learn as you go – merrily screwing up along the way.
Trust the process – and mistakes are an integral part of the process.
Those great Danes in Copenhagen came up with a great idea this summer: tourists could earn rewards (free lunch, tickets to a museum, etc.) for doing something good for the environment (cleaning the beach, riding a bike instead of driving, etc.) while they were visiting the city. You can read more in this piece from The Guardian.
Thanks to cheap airfare and immediate access to travel info, the world is a lot smaller these days. But that often means the most beautiful destinations around the globe are in danger of being trampled by tourists.
Kudos to Rikke Holm Petersen and the other folks at Visit Copenhagen who dreamt up the CopenPay pilot project and brought it to life.
“We want to make tourism a force for positive change not an environmental burden,” she says. “We want to inspire a greener mindset in tourists while they are visiting Copenhagen and [for them] to take that home with them.”
It’s the best of both worlds for our shared world. Tourists (Rikke Holm Petersen prefers the term “intermediate locals”) get to explore and enjoy the city, while also doing something positive that reminds them — in a gentle way — of the environmental impact of their travels.
More ideas like this, please! Maybe it’ll lead to fewer scenes like this:
It’s been less than two weeks since President Joe Biden addressed the nation and revealed his decision to withdraw from the 2024 election. What a difference a fortnight makes, eh?
But while most of the media will focus on the horse race aspect of this year’s “new and improved” presidential election, I think it makes sense to pause for a moment and consider the record of Joseph R. Biden, the 46th (and still current) President of the United States of America.
He laid it out quite nicely in his speech:
Today, we have the strongest economy in the world, creating nearly 16 million new jobs — a record. Wages are up, inflation continues to come down, the racial wealth gap is the lowest it’s been in 20 years. We’re literally rebuilding our entire nation, urban, suburban, rural and tribal communities. Manufacturing has come back to America.
We’re leading the world again in chips and science and innovation. We finally beat Big Pharma after all these years, to lower the cost of prescription drugs for seniors, and I’m going to keep fighting to make sure we lower the cost for everyone, not just seniors.
More people have health care today in America than ever before. And I signed one of the most significant laws helping millions of veterans and their families who were exposed to toxic materials. You know, the most significant climate law ever, ever in the history of the world, the first major gun safety law in 30 years. And today, violent crime rate is at a 50-year low.
We’re also securing our border. Border crossings are lower today than when the previous administration left office. And I’ve kept my commitment to appoint the first Black woman to the Supreme Court of the United States of America. I also kept my commitment to have an administration that looks like America and be a president for all Americans.
Yes, he’s fading a bit these days. Show me another 81-year-old with a schedule as mentally, physically and emotionally demanding as his. But it’s clear from the facts above (facts, not claims) that “Sleepy Joe” was never asleep at the switch. Heck, strip his name from his record and show it to most Americans and they’d vote for that person for president in a heartbeat.
If you want to blindly follow the world’s biggest bloviator, that seems weird to me, but you’re free to do so (for now… Day 1 Dictator plans to gut a lot of our freedoms, including voting. ). But I’ll take a strong record of productivity over the cult of personality all day, every day.
America is going to have to choose between moving forward or backward, between hope and hate, between unity and division. We have to decide, do we still believe in honesty, decency, respect, freedom, justice and democracy? In this moment, we can see those we disagree with not as enemies, but as fellow Americans. Can we do that? Does character in public life still matter?
I believe you know the answer to these questions because I know you, the American people, and I know this, we are a great nation because we are a good people.
Despite the loud protests from my aching knees (damn you, Pickleball addiction!), I’ll be biking 24 miles in the Ride Cincinnati event in mid-September.
Ride Cincinnati is a grassroots bike tour that raises money for life-saving cancer research and care. Since 2007, Ride Cincinnati has raised over $6.6 million for vital cancer research at the University of Cincinnati’s Barrett Cancer Center.
I’d greatly appreciate it if you’d make a donation to support my efforts.
As you can see, at present, I’m woefully short of my fundraising goal. (Let’s hope I ride better than I raise money…)
Your hard-earned cash will be going to a great cause.
The Ride Cincinnati organizers have encouraged riders to share their “why” – their motivation for participating in the event. I think I covered most of my “why” in yesterday’s post about my dear friend LJ, who currently is battling brain cancer.
LJ is getting great care. Thanks to my neighbors Whit and Barb, he and his wife Patty were even able to consult with Dr. Bill Barrett, the medical director of the Barrett Cancer Center, about their treatment plan, and he said they were doing all the right things.
But not everyone has those connections. And overall, our fair city could use some help in achieving a National Cancer Institute designation, which would unlock millions more in research funding.
Currently, the Greater Cincinnati area lacks a National Cancer Institute (NCI)-designated cancer center. This prestigious designation signifies a center of excellence, offering patients throughout the tri-state access to the latest research and treatment options. Without one, many residents are forced to travel far from home for critical care. Ride Cincinnati is on a mission to change that.
My “why” also includes my mother-in-law Gloria, who passed from cancer last year… and my own mother, who died of leukemia 56 years ago. We’ve made great progress in the past half-century, but more work lies ahead.
Your donation is tax-deductible. But more importantly, if you donate to support me in Ride Cincinnati, we all win something much more precious than money. We win more days, weeks, months…. even years… with the ones we love who are battling cancer.
Thanks for reading. Thanks for your support. I’m going to make you proud in the ride.
Here’s a photo from my friend John’s 60th birthday celebration back in March:
The folks in the photo (L to R: Art, Sheila, Patty, BD Boy John, Suzanne, Phil, and yours truly) all went to Xavier waaay back in the 80s. (Hence the “X” poses.) It’s where we met – and in the case of Patty & John and Suzanne & Phil, it’s where they fell in love. (Art and Sheila both went to X at the same time, but didn’t connect until after we graduated.)
Hard to believe we’ve been friends for more than 40 years now. And in those 40 years, I think I’ve called John by his real name only a handful of times. An upperclassman dubbed him “Loew Junior” because he looked like another Muskie named Loew (or Lowe… not sure… it’s been a minute) and that quickly morphed into “LJ” and that nickname stuck, as college nicknames tend to do. Heck, at this point, when someone calls him “John” it throws me for a loop.
Here’s a photo from a very different celebration for LJ yesterday:
He just finished 30 rounds of radiation for brain cancer. Patty invited his friends — including his XU buddies who served as his “Uber drivers” to get him to several of the appointments (Art, Phil, Tom, Brian and me) — to be there when he rang the bell to mark the completion of treatment.
Here’s what we know:
LJ had a tumor in his left frontal lobe. He was diagnosed in May when it started impacting his speech. Doctors removed the tumor.
The form of cancer he has is aggressive.
They’ll do another MRI in a month, and map out next steps based on results.
Cancer sucks!
Here’s what we don’t know:
What the future holds.
Here’s what else we know:
LJ is in great shape.
He has a positive attitude.
He has a family that loves him… and grandkids who adore him.
His faith is strong.
His support network is deep and wide — relatives, neighborhood friends, church friends, even a bunch of knuckleheads from college.
[Phil, LJ, Brian, Dubbatrubba, and Art – Uber driver Tom wasn’t able to attend, but his wife Jodi was there.]
LJ’s world was turned upside-down between his birthday party in March and his diagnosis in May. The blink of an eye for someone who is 60. The best of times; the worst of times.
If anyone can beat the odds — and people DO beat the odds — it’s LJ.
We hope. We pray. We believe in miracles. And we cherish the time we get to spend with him.
We don’t know what the future holds. That’s not just true for LJ. It’s true for all of us.
I love live music, but I’m not really a stadium tour kinda guy. I’ve really only been to two stadium concerts in my life – the first was in 1986 (I think) at Cleveland’s old Municipal Stadium to see The Who on the first of their gazillion “farewell” tours. The second was two nights ago – Foo Fighters at the Reds stadium. The opening acts were Mammoth – the band led by Wolfie Van Halen, son of Eddie and Valerie Bertinelli – and the Pretenders, a band I adore.
I wasn’t planning to attend – the ticket prices for those big shows are waaay too high to suit me. I’d rather spend $200 on eight $25 club shows. But my friend Paul had an extra ticket. And I’d always wanted to see the Foo Fighters live. How could I refuse?
Photo credit: Sam Greene, The Cincinnati Enquirer
I’m really glad I went. I see what all the Foo fuss is about. Dave Grohl is incredibly energetic and charismatic, his band mates are extremely talented, and they put on a heck of a show. Their song catalog is perfect for stadiums too – a lot of singalong anthems. I don’t know how Grohl is able to scream his way through two-and-a-half-hour shows on a regular basis. My vocal cords would be shredded into sawdust.
Photo credit: Sam Greene, The Cincinnati Enquirer
I have some high-fidelity noise-reducing earplugs (as a regular concert goer, I highly recommend them – here’s my brand) but didn’t bring them because I didn’t think I’d need them in an open-air stadium. I was wrong. It was LOUD.
The Foos hit the stage at 8 p.m. and wrapped up their main set at around 10:15, then came back for an encore. As my friend Paul said, “Now there’s a guy (Dave Grohl) who loves his job!”
Photo credit: Sam Greene, The Cincinnati Enquirer
It was really cool to see a show like that where 38,000 fans were singing along. But after the sun set, I found it hard to keep my eyes from straying from the band on stage to the giant TV screens to the left and right of the stage. It’s hard to not look… but then you’re essentially watching a show on TV vs. seeing a concert.
Net-net: I loved it and I’m really glad I got a chance to see them live. But I think I’ll go back to my club shows. Stadiums are cool, but I’m a “small ball” music dude at heart.
Damian on Connecting the Dots: “Thanks for reading, Doug! Not surprised that your media roots run deep.” Jul 3, 23:07
Douglas Balogh on Connecting the Dots: “6 degrees from KSD. They were my client when they were a Pulitzer station. Tell Alicia I was with Blair…” Jul 2, 22:40
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