I'm not 40. I'm close.
But one of my best friends turned 40 today. Happy birthday, Jim.
I went out for a few hours with a fun group of friends to celebrate, then I bailed out early enough to get to work by seven tomorrow morning. The others, less fortunate than myself, have 4 or 5 hours of 'fun' ahead of them.

Again, not my 40th. But one of my best friends since kindergarten is 40. My ex-wife is 40. Good time to reflect on how (or whether) I've changed over the years. So here goes.

(added after the post was written: 40 is young. Not 20-something young, but young, nevertheless. A reflection on aging seems sort of silly coming from a 39 year old, but still, 40 is a milestone age at which people traditionally start to feel 'old.' I joke about it some myself, but I have to admit from the start that I don't really feel old in any way. My body certainly feels like it is aging, but I don't really in any way feel old. But the 40th birthday of a friend with whom I've been friends for 35 years still seems like a good time think about it.)

For starters, I'm home watching basketball rather than out drinking more beer. So I've changed in that way. It's easier to leave a party than it used to be. I was having loads of fun, but I had no problem remembering what tomorrow will feel like if I stayed. I'll count that as growth.

What else has changed?

I'm more mellow than I used to be. I'm every bit as opinionated as ever. Politics, religion, sports, the economy...my knee-jerk reaction is still that I am right and, if you disagree, you are wrong. But I'm generally more willing to keep my opinion to myself. Not always- maybe not even often- but more often than in the past.

I'm just generally more likely to recognize consequences that aren't worth it. Sometimes not as soon as I should, but at least sooner than I used to. For instance, I still post highly opinionated and probably inflammatory comments on this blog, but I often delete those posts within an hour or a day, when just a year or two ago I would have left them.

So the past twenty-plus years have seen my disagreements gradually move from fights to arguments to angry blog posts to polite dissent, which I feel is progress.

I think as people age they move in a consistent direction regarding 'social issues.' They either become more accepting of differing views and of things they disagree with, or less. I'm definitely moving toward the More Accepting end of the spectrum. Not that I don't often think views which are opposite of mine are a load of b.s. I do. But it bothers me less and less and even when I get angry about it the anger doesn't last as long.

I'm about half-way to my average life expectancy, I move even slower than I used to, and I have aches and pains that I didn't used to have, but I still feel very young. So overall, this reflection on aging makes me quite happy. To still feel young and to also recognize with confidence that I am generally a decent, moral person who is gradually becoming (slowly) more decent is sort of reassuring.
I might not ever get to where I'd like to be, but as long as I'm making progress it won't bother me much.

Bracket Man Is Here To Lead You To Fame And Fortune

After my glorious victory in 2010 (1 nice jackpot win out of 3 entered, raising my career total to 1 nice jackpot win out of about 100 entered), it's only fair that I point my loyal readers in the right direction.

I certainly haven't filled out my brackets yet. No matter, as I wasn't going to spoon-feed you the correct answers anyway. I'm just going to provide some brilliant insight. Do with it what you will.

I'm following roughly the same strategy I followed last year, as it was a new one for me and it worked. That strategy is: ignore all basketball which I have watched this season, and go strictly by the numbers.

First up, the local teams.
My Kentucky Wildcats stack up a lot better than I thought. In fact, according to the numbers I use (secret stats available only to myself and the select few others with access to ESPN.com or CBSsports.com or NCAA.com or a USA Today, or presumably USAtoday.com), Kentucky looks fantastic. Like a borderline #1 or #2 seed. But noooo, apparently the NCAA selection committee uses silly things like wins and losses to determine seeding. Be that as it may, Kentucky looks good. I don't expect them to fall the first weekend, and I can't say I believed that most of the year. I can't predict they'll get past Ohio State, but I haven't ruled it out yet.
Louisville, too, looks good to make the 2nd weekend. I actually think they got a lousy draw with Morehead State in the first round, but they'll squeak by. And Vandy is a good 5 seed match up for the Cards. Then Kansas.

Three potential Cinderellas
Utah State
Washington
Florida State


Five likely to bow out earlier than seeding indicates:
Notre Dame
BYU
Wisconsin
San Diego State
Cincinnati

Four good first round games:
7 Texas A&M vs 10 Florida State
6 St. John's vs 11 Gonzaga
6 Cincinnati vs 11 Missouri
5 Kansas State vs 12 Utah State


Conference most likely to disappoint: Easy, it's the Big East. I say they'll have 4 or 5 of the Sweet 16. Not bad at all, but when you start with 11 teams, and 10 of the top 36 seeds, and you are supposedly the best conference in the history of anywhere ever in the known galaxy, you should probably do better.

There. That was long-winded and fun (for me, if not for you).

After work this evening I detoured through the park hoping to view some interesting flooding. I more than half-expected I would need to turn around without getting very far- most likely no farther than near the 8th tee of Seneca GC.
But though the waters were high and rapid, Beargrass Creek was still within its banks as of 5:00, to the dismay (I assume) of the Wave 3 reporter stationed in the Big Rock parking lot.

I finished reading Philip Roth's The Plot Against America. Quite a good book. It's the first Philip Roth work I've read, and as he's quite prolific I am excited to have a new source of reading material.
It is an alternate history narrative, told from the point of view of a nine year old Jewish boy in Newark, New Jersey. The premise is Charles Lindbergh defeats FDR in the 1940 election and then makes a pact with Nazi Germany that keeps the U.S. out of WWII. Lots of not very fun hijinks ensue.
Throughout my reading I turned constantly to the internet to read up on real national figures woven into the story. There were lots of them, so I'm now better informed about Charles and Anne Morrow Lindbergh, Burton Wheeler, Father Coughlin, Fiorello LaGaurdia, and a few more.
Since many of the principal antagonists were real historical figures, and since most of these people weren't so clearly or completely evil in real life, I was at times uncomfortable with the story. At other times, though, I was uncomfortable with how easily it could all have been true.
Also, Louisville and Kentucky featured prominently and not very glowingly, which I didn't like. However, I think this was more for plot convenience than anything else. The boy's father praised Louis Brandeis and his Louisville roots early in the story, and thus Louisville was effective as a principal scene for negative stuff later. Plus Louisville is just a good representative for middle America.

This is my first post using my new little notebook computer. I'm not adept with the smaller keyboard yet. How does everybody manage with the tiny little keys on their smart phones? I can't even handle this relatively larger keyboard. If I don't improve I suspect I'll go back to using my man-sized computer for future posts.
Life in Lilliput sure is hard.

Some brilliant Kentucky fan updated the Wikipedia entry for jean shorts in honor of Josh Harrellson's Senior Day.

Almost that time of year again...

The Yogis softball banquet last weekend was fun, as usual.
As is customary, we used a brief amount of time pre-party to take care of some business and give out awards. Among the decisions is where and when to play. This season looks like Monday nights at the Lyndon Elks, and Wednesdays at St. Martha.
I regretfully said no to a Tuesday night cornhole league. There will be numerous Yogis playing in it since this is the first year in at least a decade and a half that we won't be playing softball on Tuesdays. But as I'm playing in another softball league on Sundays, I thought it best not to commit myself to 4 nights in a row.
Honestly, I'd prefer two nights of softball and one night of cornhole. However, I reasoned that at this point my softball-playing years are much more limited than my cornhole-playing years. I'll have plenty of time for cornhole when I'm even older and more decrepit than I am now.

What a weird dream.

I dreamt I was cooking dinner, suddenly realized I was out of sunscreen (I didn't need it for the dinner. It was just a completely unrelated thought) and needed to go get some. I briefly contemplated waiting until after I ate. Then, realizing I was also out of silverware, I left right away.
But then my dream flitted to me eating dinner, and then again to cooking dinner at the point where I needed sunscreen and then again deciding to go get some...and the dream sort of looped a couple of times before I set out.
It was late at night. I couldn't decide whether to walk to Walgreens or to some now-vague other store which was a lot farther away, but which made sense at the time.
I set out in a random direction, planting each footfall carefully as I walked, so as to avoid stumbling, because it was pitch dark. My hands were outstretched to avoid bumping into anything.
Then I tried running. Running in the dark was thrilling. Then I said to myself, hey, this is stupid. Running in the dark is a great way to get hurt. Then I ran some more (a therapist would have a field day with this dream).
I quickly got lost. There were small scrubby trees and bushes, lots of rocks and boulders. There was very little grass, but lots of thick sandy dirt. I felt like I should know where I was. I kept telling myself that if only it were light enough I would surely spot a landmark I recognized.
I found it quite amusing. I was exasperated and angry that I couldn't get my bearings, but at the same time I thought it was pretty funny.
And-as in many of my dreams- I kept looping back to previous segments, or jumping forward again to some other portion, as if I were using the 'scene select' option on my dream DVD player. Thus I'd be proceeding slowly, groping my way, then I'd be back in the kitchen, then running in the dark, in the kitchen again, then running again, and so on.
Every so often I would pass under a street light which illuminated my surroundings enough that I could almost make out something I almost recognized in the distance, but I had to leave the light to see it more clearly and then I was lost again. I have no idea where the street lights came from, because I wasn't on a street. But the lights were there and made perfect sense.
The landmarks I almost recognized were pretty weird, too. At one point I thought I saw the now-defunct Arby's which was at Shelbyville Rd/Hubbards Ln. I remember walking towards it and thinking I'd run into either it or the (also closed) ice cream place across the street.
I don't remember what else I thought I recognized, but it seems they were mostly local. At the same time, though, there were no actual streets, just dirt and boulders and shrubs, and I remember being careful to avoid any cacti, though I never saw or felt a single cactus. It was like I was lost on the Llano Estacado but it was in Louisville.
Then I woke up.
When I woke I realized that the dream also had a soundtrack of a single song, and I'd really liked the song a lot, but I couldn't quite place what the song was.
I racked my brain trying to figure it out, but the details were very sketchy. Female singer- maybe Rosanne Cash? The longer I thought about it the sketchier it became, until I lost the tune, the voice, the beat, everything. Now I'm not even sure it was a song I'd ever heard before, or if I even heard it in the dream.
Strange.

I don't know anything about dream interpretation. If I had to take a stab I'd say it means 1) I feel lost, and 2)I've read too much Cormac McCarthy lately and need to read something that's not set in the Texas/New Mexico/Mexico desert.
But I don't feel particularly lost, and I've just about run through all McCarthy's novels already anyway, so I'm not sure how helpful the dream was.

I've been trying to avoid political topics. I have generally been unsuccessful.
I think I've mentioned unions before, but I'm not sure.
Anyway, I'm extremely pro-union. Boiled down to a nutshell, my basic belief is that the long struggle of organized labor is responsible for ending all sorts of very bad things- slave wages, dreadfully unsafe conditions, unbearably long hours, etc. etc. And the long, slow end of organized labor has pretty much correlated to a long, slow decline back into all of the above conditions.
People I speak with mostly seem to think I'm ridiculous for believing the end of unions will mean sinking back into the same conditions once described so colorfully by Upton Sinclair. I say "Of course it will lead to that. It already is leading to that. Duh!" Sure, conditions aren't nearly so dreadful at the moment. But the peak has already been reached and workers are definitely heading back down the hill.
And it's amazing how fast the fall may come once a little speed is built up.
Why wouldn't it lead to that? Because government regulation will prevent it? Without unions, who is going to make sure government regulations are enforced? Or make sure these regulations even stay on the books?

I've just been thinking about that a lot the last few days because of the stuff in Wisconsin. I'm especially galled by the argument that union workers have nothing to complain about because "they make more than me, they pay a lower percentage of their health care than me, they have it better than me..."
Well duh! again. Why is that an argument against unions? It sounds to me to be more of argument to get your ass into a union.