I Got Moosed

I was born and raised in southwestern Pennsylvania, which meant that by default of where my parents copulated and conceived, “My Teams” were the Pirates, Steelers, and Penguins. A recent interaction with Tyrone on my Rickey Henderson post brought back a particularly vivid and traumatic memory from when I was nine years old.

The memory revolves around a wild pitch thrown by a relief pitcher during the 1972 playoffs—a moment that cost the Pirates their chance at victory. To most, it might seem like just another heartbreaking sports moment, but to my 9-year-old self, it was monumental. I can still recall isolating myself and crying inconsolably, grappling with the crushing weight of disappointment for the first time. In hindsight, those moments teach us to handle life’s setbacks.

But today, with the clarity that comes from five decades of reflection, It’s obvious that it was all scripted. Yes—scripted for dramatic effect. Almost nothing we experience (in the media) is truly natural or organic. Let’s just consider this yet another piece of evidence that manipulation isn’t a new tactic—it’s something we’ve been subjected to for our entire lives.

The (1-minute) video picks up in the bottom of the 9th inning of the final game of the divisional playoffs. The winner would go to the World Series. When he throws the wild pitch, there were 2 outs and only a runner a third. He literally could have walked two more batters. Bob Moose was born 10/9/47 and “died” on 10/9/76 at the age of 29.


Notable Death Watch: Rickey Henderson

Rickey Nelson Henley Henderson passed away on December 20th at the age of 65, leaving behind a legacy as baseball’s greatest leadoff hitter and baserunner. His life and career were a testament to passion, resilience, and an unwavering belief in seizing the moment.

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Nattering nabobs of negativity

Not too many readers will remember the words in the title above. It is from 1970, and the  words are attributed to Vice President Spiro T. Agnew. He acted as a distractive force for President Nixon, and was dispatched regularly to grab some headlines. The nabobs in question here were the sad lot of pundits known as “journalists”, said to be one of the easiest college degrees to attain.

Natter: To talk continuously for a long time without any particular purpose.

Nabob: An Indian ruler within the Mogul empire; someone of great wealth or importance; a person with a grandiose style or manner.

Agnew certainly did his homework on this one, drawing out two obscure words and making them memorable, so much so that I still remember the quote 54 years later.

Below the fold are some more quotes from the 31 pages I have preserved:

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A magical Christmas

 

Christmas is mostly for kids, and I think it is perfectly OK to let their imaginations be filled with Santa and reindeer and chimneys. When my kids were little we had a tradition that lasted for a brief while until some cynical brat ruined it.

We lived in Billings, Montana. It’s a nice town, mostly, and is under what are called the Rims, a long geological formation, part of it seen above, that runs the length of the town. I am told that they formed as waves from an inland sea washed in and out, not unlike Galveston, Texas.

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Notable Death Watch: James Corcoran

Joseph Edward Corcoran was an American convicted mass murderer executed on December 18, 2024, for a 1997 quadruple murder in Indiana. Corcoran’s story is a whirlwind of family dysfunction.

I’m starting to think I might have a built-in flaw when it comes to searching for photographs. In this media-saturated world we live in, you’d assume it’d be easy to find high-resolution, unaltered images of “notable” individuals. But nope—apparently not. Case in point:

What is it about Joseph’s body configuration that causes his clothing to fall/shift to his right side? I added up the number 992454 on his fake-ass looking placard…I’ll give you 33 guesses what it totals, but you’ll only need one.

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1971-1979: 100 Best of the Best-Selling Albums (The First 50)

After completing my deep dive into the best-selling albums from 1971 to 1979, I’m here to share my personal picks for the 100 most satisfying listens of the decade. Nobody asked for this, but here it is anyway! Keep in mind, these aren’t necessarily the best albums of the era—just the best of the best-sellers. And yes, the list leans heavily toward white male-centric releases. That’s partly because, well, I’m a white male, and also because the 1970s were undeniably a white-male-dominated decade in music.

Selecting the first 50 albums was fairly straightforward, and for anyone over 40, there won’t be many surprises. The second half of the list has been trickier to finalize, but I’m working on it. After spending so much time exploring this musical landscape, I felt compelled to share my findings.

Under each selection, I’ve included a “CliffsNotes” review courtesy of AllMusic. While I typically don’t hold professional critics in high regard—they often feel like industry insiders with unreliable takes—I found myself agreeing with their assessments. Plus, it saved me a lot of effort!

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Good Calories, Bad Calories

The above title of this post is also the title of a book published in 2008 by science writer Gary Taubes, full title Good Calories, Bad Calories, Fat, Carbs, and the Controversial Science of Diet and Health.** At 609 pages (counting bibliography and index), I guess we could call it a tome. However, I found it hard to put down.

We had moved to Colorado, and sometime prior to 2011 we went to Boulder to hear Noam Chomsky speak. We got probably the last two tickets and were at the very back of the balcony. I remember it well because I had a hard time squeezing my fat ass into my seat. Some time after that I told my wife that I had to change my eating habits. I had read Taubes’ book, and it made sense to me. Here’s a partial list of the things I gave up:

Pizza, cookies, ice cream, spaghetti (all pastas), bread, beer, pizza, donuts, candy, candy bars, chocolate, potatoes, pizza, onion rings, French fries,  … man I love pizza. Also, many fruits and vegetables have high carbohydrate value. Here’s a link to a site that lists good low-carb fruits and vegetables. Strawberries are always in season at our house. White wine is a safe bet over red.

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The Curious Case of Xmas Albums

When I was a kid, my parents rented half our duplex to a lesbian schoolteacher. That arrangement went smoothly until her girlfriend’s “overnight tutoring sessions” became a bit too frequent, and she got the boot. I bring this up because this teacher once threatened to wring my neck if I didn’t stop playing the Chipmunks’ Christmas classic “Christmas Don’t Be Late” on an endless loop. Yep, I was obsessed with that song. In hindsight, I get it. Listening to Alvin and the gang whine about hula hoops 50 times in a row could push anyone to the brink.

Fortunately, I grew out of it—no more Chipmunks. In fact, I can’t remember ever buying a Christmas album, for myself or anyone else.

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Right in the Nuts

As I continue to trudge through the musical gold and platinum mines of 1971-1980, I can’t help but wonder: did people actually listen to this stuff? The sheer volume of mediocre music churned out during this time could only be explained by three quintessentially American tendencies:

  1. Questionable taste (let’s call it “poor discernment” to be polite).
  2. A suspiciously robust ability to spend money we don’t have.
  3. An insatiable hunger for entertainment, no matter how mind-numbing.
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