You likely read about or saw footage of NASCAR driver Tony Stewart fatally hitting competitor Kevin Ward during a dirt track race, after Ward got out of his car and angrily challenged Stewart on the track.
A New York Grand Jury cleared Tony Stewart of any wrong-doing on Wednesday. That was the lead in the story. But it shouldn't have been. That's because buried in the story was that the D.A. Michael Tantillo also noted that toxicology tests of Kevin Ward showed that he had enough marijuana in his system to "impair judgment." Consider that a moment. Forget even the tragic end result. What if you were another driver in that high-speed race and you discovered that one of your competitors had not only been smoking marijuana, but had smoked enough to impair his judgment. Would you be livid or terrified? Now add to the picture the image of Kevin Ward getting out of his car during a high-speed race with cars whizzing past him, and he's wandering angrily on the track, challenging another car. Impaired judgment? Gee, ya think? A lot of people thought it was impaired judgment even before they knew about him smoking pot and knowing how much was in his system. It's a terrible, sad situation. And Kevin Ward's family is still saying that they're unhappy with the decision to clear Tony Stewart, and that it will "pursue all remedies in fairness to Kevin." I assume that that means the possibility of a lawsuit in civil court. It doesn't matter what I think about what happened at the race, because I didn't see the race. If the family wants to pursue a civil case, that's their right. And for all I know maybe a jury will agree that Tony Stewart is at fault, unlike what the Grand Jury decided. Or not. But it certainly seems to me that when the defense brings out that Kevin Ward had smoked marijuana before the race and had enough in his system to "impair judgment," that's going to be a monumentally tall hill to get over. I had initially written that that's going to be a "high hill." The story is too tragic to end on what could have been perceived as a joke. But it would have made the point all on its own.
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This week's contestant is Fran Bold. from Las Cruces, New Mexico. It's a nice tune, and it's clear where the tune is being played. But I didn't have a clue. But the song is quite known, just hidden well with harmonics, and the classical composer style is even far-better known. But...well, I missed it all.
This from Jon Stewart on the Climate Change march in New York City is just too wonderful not the post here, even if you've seen it already. But it's when he moves on to the hearing that the House of Representatives Science and Technology Committee that things become majestic. Among many other gems, his phrase, "willful misunderstanding," should become emblazoned across the country.
For a long while, I've had annoying run-in with my neighbors downstairs. I know such things aren't uncommon, though in my case this has been going on for about...oh, 15 years. I won't go into all the details and minutiae, because it would be too mind-numbing. I've discussed it with the building owner who has his own issues with them, and commiserates with me, but that's about all he can do.
The short version is that they complain about all the noise I make. (Most of it from one guy, the other doesn't speak English well.) The noise I make, I should note, is walking around the apartment. It's an old building, and there are areas where the floor makes big creaks whenever you step on it. I try politely to avoid those areas, but some you just can't avoid. Like the entrance into the bathroom. There even have been a lot of times when I've stayed in my bedroom late at night, rather than stroll to the kitchen since I know the floor will creak and going to the other room really isn't critical enough. Nothing I say can convince him that I'm doing nothing, how it's an old building where the floor has spots that creak badly, and that therefore there's nothing I can change other than get in my bed and stay there all day. Once, I dropped a soup bowl while drying it after dinner -- the guy started pounding on the ceiling. Another time, after throwing out my back I had a cane, and it fell over at 11 PM, thwock. Pounding from below immediately followed. For 15 years this has been going on. "We are both men" is the way he likes to phrase things. (The other fellow mostly glares.) And he makes sure to add that's he's just politely asking me to be quiet. Relentlessly. I've invited him into my home so he can see where the floor creaks, but he refuses, and simply doesn't accept that that's the problem. I'm the problem. "But I'm just walking in my home. Don't I have the right to walk in my home?" But I can hear you, he says. We are both men, I am just asking you to consider being quiet at night. The problem, among other things, is that apparently he goes to bed really early because he gets up really early. But that hardly means I'm supposed to go to bed early. Or stop walking in my home. The neighbor to my left has never once complained. The neighbor to my right has never complained. Just the devil below. For 15 years, if not more. It was suggested that I get the police involved, but not for the reason you'd think. It's because I'm pretty sure that the two are not, how shall I put it?, legally invited guests in the U.S, and if the police came it might terrify the bejeepers out of them. But I don't have it in me to do that. About two months ago, the talkative one of the good fellows ratcheted things up. Still whining about how much noise I supposedly make, and me saying that I’m just walking around my apartment, but the floor creaks. But now he's added to how I play the TV so loud, and me saying that my neighbor next door who shares the wall with the TV never has complained about TV noise once. Nor has whoever who's lived in that apartment in all the years I've been living here, which is quite a while. And then the other night it was taken to a new level. I spent an hour having the most insane, pathetic, annoying, infuriating discussion with the fine soul from downstairs. You must believe me when I say describing this doesn't even begin to do it justice. It went on in a maniacal circle for an hour. One hour. It began when he knocked on the door around 10:45 or 11 o’clock, complaining about my TV being too loud. (When I actually lowered it, to make a point, I asked, “Is that too loud?” Yes, he said, because he could still hear it. “Of course you can hear it,” I said, “you’re 10 feet away!”) He kept says that all he was doing was just asking me politely if I would turn down my TV as a good neighbor. I kept explaining, “You’re not asking me, you’re telling me. And you’re not being polite, you’re actually being a bully and harassing me because you want me to live my life the way you want it to be. And you’re not 'just' telling me to turn down my TV, because you also always complain about how I walk around my home. And I did turn down my TV when you came here tonight, but you’re still complaining about it.” That’s because I can still hear it, he’d say. “But you’re 10 feet away,” I’d answer. Again. It’s 11 o’clock, you’re keeping me up, I can’t sleep, he’d say. I’d ask him then if I’m not allowed to watch the news? To watch David Letterman or the Tonight Show? “All I’m doing is asking you to turn the TV down.” And on and on we’d go in circles. For an hour. “I’m not doing anything unreasonable,” I’d say. “I know you can hear noise. And I feel terrible about that. And I've felt terrible for years. But I’m just walking around my apartment. And it will always make noise. It Will Always Make Noise. And you will always complain about it.” And I have the right to complain, he’d say. And I will complain every day you’re too loud. "Yes, you do have the right to complain," I'd reply. "But I can't do anything different. I'm just walking in my home. Don't I have the right to walk in my home?" He wouldn't ever answer that, just keep saying that I'm making too much noise. "Don't I have the right to walk in my own home??" I'd ask again. If you keep making noise I will call the police and the manager, he'd threaten. Ah, I just wish he would. “Call the manager,” I would keep saying. “Call the police if you think I’m doing something unreasonable.” No, he won’t do that -- I knew he wouldn't dare, and I knew he wouldn't call the owner either because I'm aware that the owner would love him out of the building because he hasn't always paid his rent or in full, but...well, there are legal rental issues too long to go into -- but he said, no, it's me who should do that, I should call the police or manager. “Except I’m not complaining about anything,” I’d say. What do you want me to do differently? I’m just walking around my apartment, and I have every right to do that. “You could be thoughtful and think that your neighbor is being kept awake.” So, I shouldn’t go to the bathroom in the middle of the night? Is that reasonable?? What do you want me to do? I shouldn't walk in my apartment? Really, what do you want me to do? Well, what should I do?, he’d ask. Don’t I have the right to have it quiet? I explained that the world over, people in lower apartments hear the person above. "What do you suggest I do?" he'd ask again, Well, he could put in ear plugs, I suggested. That brought a howl of laughter, oh, no, he would never do something that ridiculous, he said. Mind you, why it’s ridiculous I have no idea, and I said I’d do it if I were me. Or he could move. More laughter from him. He will never move, never. "So, you will not change anything," he'd say. I'm not doing anything, I'm walking in my home. Don't I have the right to walk in my home? Which he still wouldn't answer, until I finally kept saying he was being a coward to not answer. After about 40 minutes he finally answered, "Yes and no." Well, that's a cowardly response I told him. "I am just being a good neighbor and asking you politely to do down your TV." No, I finally had had enough, you are not being polite and not a good neighbor. You are harassing me and being a bully, trying to get me to live my life the way you want to live. He found that hilarious, that he wasn't at all a bully. But you are, I repeated. Because you are trying to get me to live my live the way you want. "I am only asking you politely to turn down the TV." But I did turn down the TV, the first moment you asked, and you're still hear complaining about it. "Because I can hear it." You're 10 feet away! And you're complaining about me walking around my home. And on and on and on we’d have the same discussion the same points. For an hour. I’d keep mentioning how no other neighbors are complaining about me being loud, not even the person who’s next door and shares a wall with where the TV is. “Well, I can hear you. And it keeps me up.” The floor creaks, I repeated again and showed him – and invited him to see all the creaks, but he again as always refused – and I said it will always creak, every day, tomorrow and the next day. It will always creak. And I suggested that he won't come inside to my polite invitation because he just wants to complain. “All I’m asking you to do is be a good neighbor and turn down your TV.” And I turned it down, I’d say – again. And you’re not asking me, you’re telling me. And you’re being a bully and harassing me. And I did turn it down. “All I can do is ask you, and I will complain every time.” Fine, complain. Call the manager, call the people if you think I’m doing something unreasonable. “I won’t do that,” he’d keep refusing. “I will just complain to you.” And every night the floor will creak, I said, every single night. And no one else here complains. “But I hear it,” he'd snap back. I know you hear it! And I feel terrible you hear it, and have for 15 years. But I’m not doing anything unreasonable. I am just walking in my home. I said I would try to keep the TV down, but I had to have the right to hear my TV at night. I said I would try to walk carefully and softly, but the floor WOULD creak, every single night. And I will continue walking in my apartment, which was my right. And on it went for an hour! And it was worse than what I’m describing, going off on bizarre other tangents. (At one point, I used a metaphor, and he told me "Don't use a metaphor." Honest.) And it will happen again. He will complain again. Because the floor creaks and I’m just walking in my apartment. And I will be watching television past 10 PM. This only took three minutes or so to read. But it went on for an hour. Over and over and over. Repeating everything endlessly, and going off in bizarre directions, only to return to the endless circle. At one point, I said how weary he was making me. He said, “See, now you know how I feel every night.” No, I said, it’s different. You’re weary because I’m just doing something normal, walking in my apartment which I can’t do anything about. I’m weary because you’re up here complaining about something that makes no sense. “They’re no different,” he said. They’re completely different, I answered. You don’t have to be here. But I have a right to walk in my apartment. “And I have a right to complain,” he said. Yes, you do, I’d reply -- again. But it’s not going to accomplishing anything, because I’m just walking in my apartment and I insist on having the right to do that. And it will always creak. It Will Always Creak. And you simply are unwilling to accept that. “Because I can hear you. All I’m politely asking is that you think about others and be more quiet.” To which we’d get back to, No, you are not politely asking, you are telling me to live my life the way you want it to be. And then...oh, you know. Because we are both men. Except for those of you who are women. Sigh… I've often noted -- at length -- how remarkable my friend Nell Minow is. I'd like to think that the things I've written (like this) have made that clear, through her various jobs and range of endeavors, and family history. But sometimes you need more. I did post a photo of her as a little girl with President Kennedy, and I thought that was pretty good, but then when you're Nell Minow, there's always a topper. That's Nell standing, the oldest of the three little girls. And yes, the oldest of them all there, that's Eleanor freaking Roosevelt. Nell posted this on Facebook, and I thought of just "sharing" it there, but then people here on these pages wouldn't get a chance to see it. Here's what she wrote about how this meeting came about. When my dad was Chairman of the FCC, he got a call from Eleanor Roosevelt, who asked if she could come to see him. He immediately called my mom and said, "Get the girls out of school and bring them over to my office." She wanted to talk to him about a black Congressional candidate in Mississippi, running against a "raucous spokesman for white supremacy." The challenger, a Baptist minister named Smith, was not allowed to buy television ads on local station WLBT. Dad got the FCC to intervene (at the time, the FCC's "equal time" rule was still in effect). Decades later, a man came over to my dad to introduce himself. It was Rev. Smith. And he told my dad his group had bought WLBT. This is our photo with ER. I'm the one with pigtails. You may recall over the past several Winter Olympics, I've written many articles about how I really dislike the figure skating coverage on NBC with Scott Hamilton, Sandra Bezic and and Tom Hammond. Hamilton often says very insightful comments, though usually beforehand, but during the skating itself he drops to a level of mediocrity. Bezic, however, is a waste of airspace. Her commentary during a skate is at best "Oh, my, how lovely," and at worst total silence. Though given how empty she is when talking, total silence is sometimes a relief. Hammond is personable enough, but like most anchors in skating comes across as somewhat clueless. At best, I expect the anchor to direct the experts into more insightful commentary. He doesn't. You may also recall that during the last Winter Olympics, I went overboard glowing about Tara Lipinski and Johnny Weir, who were doing the figure skating commentary on the NBC Sports channel, which I happened to watch because I inhale watching the Olympics. They weren't brilliant, but given that this was their first Olympics doing commentary and will learn and grow, I assume, they were quite wonderful, offering at least far more insights by comparison, as well as humor and having a great rapport, all managed terrifically by anchor Terry Gannon who knew how to keep things professional, yet play along when it fit. Their appreciation for him showed, and was even vocal in their thanks to him at the end of the games. It was clear that NBC was getting the sense that they had something good with the pair, using them near the end of the Olympics on some late night main-network coverage, and then even put them together for doing reports during the Kentucky Derby about clothes. And now comes the news from Philip Hersh of the Chicago Tribune that NBC is promoting Lipinksi and Weir to become the top figure skating team at the network, and saying goodbye to Hamilton and Bezic. While I was thrilled to read this (as much for knowing I wouldn't have to suffer through Sandra Bezic anymore, and pleased that the people I'd been praising so much got a promotion), I was wary about whether the change would include Terry Gannon, who was such a critical part of the team's success, knowing how to deal with them properly. And the reports suggest that indeed he will be promoted, as well.It hasn't officially been announced by NBC, but Hersh is a top-notch reporter who, among other things, covers figure skating, and was even part of the recent documentary on the anniversary of the Nancy Kerrigan-Tanya Harding debacle. And quotes from all the participants seems to confirm it. "I was blessed to have that seat for seven Olympics," Hamilton, wrote in a text. "I always had the best interests of skating and the skaters at heart. I never wanted it to be about me, and I still don't. I wish them great success." Hamilton, who won the 1984 Gold medal for men's figure skating, might still have a role at NBC with studio work, and I think he'd be excellent at that. Bezic sent out a tweet -- "Wishing @TaraLipinski @JohnnyGWeir the very best success covering figs for @NBCSports. So grateful to have had the honour for 24 years..." And Hammond sent out a text message, "I think my figs days are over." (I'm sure NBC will find some other place for him in their coverage -- both at the Olympics and elsewhere on the network.) So, though it's not official, it looks like it's official. Starting soon, the rest of the world who didn't get around to find the NBC Sports cable channel will now get to see the new team. I'm sure that there will be some criticism -- not just because some people don't like change, but also because Lipinski and Weir are so...well, different. Very flamboyant, though somehow (and this is their deft trick) in an understated way. Mainly, it works that way because as flamboyant as Weir is, and as much as Lipinski supports that, they are clearly being themselves in nothing more than a personal way and having great fun at it, while being insightful. The balancing act will be to make sure that the skating itself is the star, and not the announcers, as well as NBC letter the team be themselves and not soften them up for primetime. Given the free reign they gave them for their Kentucky Derby assignment, it does seem like NBC knows what they have. But for now, all we can go on is that Tara Lipinski, Johnny Weir and Terry Gannon will be the new #1 figure skating crew for NBC broadcasts.
See what comes from inundating oneself in watching Olympics coverage? Hey, like I say, watch this space, we tries nots to steers ya wrong... |
AuthorRobert J. Elisberg is a political commentator, screenwriter, novelist, tech writer and also some other things that I just tend to keep forgetting. Feedspot Badge of Honor
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