My friends

My friends, I want to tell you about my friends. My friends live all across the country my friends. My friends are in Colorado and Kentucky and Massachusetts and Florida and Rhode Island my friends. My friends are in other places too my friends. My friends, there are some of my friends I haven't personally met. My friends, I know my friends through the blogosphere. My friends have even created a virtual cafe my friends. My friends congregate there my friends. My friends share the good times and commiserate in the bad times my friends.

My friends generally think the way I think my friends. My friends generally enjoy the same things I do my friends. My friends drink beer and play golf my friends. My friends are mostly in the same profession that I am my friends. Some of my friends have big families my friends. My friends, some of my friends are better off than I am. My friends, I enjoy the company of my friends. My friends make me laugh my friends. My friends, there are lots of stories about me and my friends.

My friends, I would like to tell you all more about my friends but I must call my friends now to tell them about my friends and what my friends are doing next week.

Bridge to Bridge

This is a great way to spend a Sunday morning...

I did the Bridge to Bridge Run/Walk in San Francisco. Trust me, it was a lot more walk than it was run. It was a 7K or 12K course that started at the Bay Bridge and ended in the Presido at the foot of the Golden Gate Bridge. The proceeds went to one of my favorite causes, the Special Olympics of Northern California.

Wow, there were a lot of people. These runners take things so seriously. They stretched, warmed up, and were sweating before they even started. I'm guessing they could tell I wasn't one of them when I showed up at start line with my Starbucks Venti Coffee with cream.

Because I pre-registered, the organizers knew the Bobness would be there and arranged for my own personal security detail. This fine SFPD officer is putting away the autograph I signed for him so he can focus all his attention on my safety.

The course was along the Bay, with the first part of the race down the Embarcadero past the piers and Fisherman's Wharf. I made a quick stop at Hooters looking for a little bit of the ol' In-N-Out. As usual, I didn't get any.

7 K's and 66 minutes later, I crossed the finish line to a throng of well wishers and adoring fans. Actually, it was all of the serious runners who had finished waaaay ahead of me. Still, it was cool crossing the finish line under the big digital clock just like the Boston Marathon. I could have almost been mistaken for an athlete. They had doctors on hand for me, thankfully not needed.

One of the local radio stations greeted me with live music. As you can see, they held the entire front row for me and my closest runner/walker pals.

There was a feast fit for kings at the finish line. Heaven knows a bunch of serious runners are looking for a Polish Sausage, Hot Dog, or Chicken Sandwich right after running a 12K.

Apparently we all were racing for Michelob Ultra. Had I only known, I would have moved along a lot faster to get my share while it was still cold. It's not my brand, but beggars can't be choosers.

It was a great morning, great weather, and a great cause.

Hope

I woke up this morning upset, mad, and disheartened. Well, I didn't wake up that way, but I soon went from barely awake to barely able to contain myself. All it took was turning on my computer and reading the ignorant, vulgar comment that was left on my previous Mavericks post. Don't bother looking, it's not there now. I deleted it as quickly as I was finished reading it.

Hillybilly Willy (the name he used, not mine) referred to Barack "Hussein" Obama and how someone with a name like that probably had something to do with 9/11. It went further than that, but I won't dignify its ignorance by restating it here, or anywhere. I'm all for political discourse. An open-minded conversation on ideas, philosophy, and beliefs can be healthy and educational. I've had plenty of these spirited discussions in the past, and will likely in the future when it comes to my beliefs. This had nothing to do with facts or civil debate. This was outright vile, disgusting racism. Hillybilly Willy, I invite you to never read my blog again.

I was shaken. I know racism exists, but it still hurts me. Playing golf last week, I was paired up with someone I had never met before. He seemed like a nice enough guy. Some people may even refer to him as an average Joe. The pace of play slowed down as we eventually caught up to groups ahead of us playing. The two groups happened to be of Asian descent. As we waited Joe would linger back a few yards, keeping to himself. This went on for a few holes when I went back to engage him in conversation. If we're going to have to wait, we can at least enjoy it right? When I got back there he sort of chuckled, shook his head in frustration, and said, "I feel like I'm playing in a rice paddy." I went back to my golf cart and don't think I said anything to him the rest of the day.

How can a country that has come so far still have people who think like this? How can a person hate an entire group of people because of the color of their skin, their religion or lack of one, or their sexual orientation? It just doesn't make any sense. It is so irrational. It makes me sad that people can harbor such dark, deep seeded hate within their hearts and minds. It makes me sad that people have died, and continue to die, because of this hatred. It makes me sad that the struggles and sacrifices of those oppressed sometimes seem to have all been in vain.

But then I look to the television. There's Barack Obama giving a speech in Virginia. A black man, running for the Presidency of the United States, giving a speech in a state that was part of the Confederacy during the Civil War. I wonder aloud sometimes how big a lead in the polls he might have if he was a white man with the same message. I wonder how many people believe in his call for change, but can't get past the color of his skin. I wonder and tremble at the thought that the only reason he may lose the election is because of those people. It makes me sick to think about it. But I have hope. Obama has a slight lead in the polls and more importantly has the support of many of America's youth. They are a new generation of Americans that don't see the color of skin or sexual orientation. They don't see the barriers that separate us; they see the things that bring us together. They don't see differences, they see diversity. They are the hope for the future, no matter how this election ends up. If they can translate their support into votes, history will be made on November.

This Saturday morning reminded me the power of hope will always be stronger than the power of hate.

Mavericks

There sure was a lot of talk about mavericks during the vice presidential debate tonight. So what exactly is a maverick?

Ford produced a Maverick in the 1970's

Tom Cruise was Maverick in Top Gun

James Garner was Bret Maverick

Roger Moore was Beau Maverick

Maverick is an air to surface missile

Dirk Nowitzki is a Dallas Maverick

Maverick is a Roller Coaster in Cedar Point, Ohio

Mavericks is a surf contest in Northern California

The Mavericks are an alternative country band

There's a Maverick County in southwest Texas

These are not mavericks

Now you know what a maverick is and isn't. Class Dismissed.

Sidelining depression

I was thinking last night as I lay in bed unable to fall asleep that I have not written in a while about my depression. That was brought to mind because RC had mentioned in a comment recently that: "Anyway, what I find so interesting about this post is there isn't that usual despair that I've read in your posts before...there is a twinge of hope." Of course, this sparked some more thought on my part. Hence, this post.

I know that my depression is never far from the surface. RC is correct, I haven't had the kind of spike lately that would trigger one of those Fog inducing episodes. Not getting interviewed for that last job opportunity did not reach the level of plunging me into the darkness. Why haven't those kinds of things brought me down? In the past I would have disappeared for days, retreated into my foxhole, and sought solace of mind on my own. It would have taken days, sometimes weeks to slowly emerge back into society. But why not this time? Do I really have a twinge of hope somewhere inside me?

I haven't felt well lately physically. Nothing really stands out as a glaring concern, but just a collection of little things that one on top of the next have been affecting me recently. That's one of the things that has taken my attention. It's also one of the reasons I have been blogging less frequently... sleep substituting for writing. But the overwhelming thing that has distracted me is the state of the country in which we live. I've spent so much time worrying about the other 305+ million fellow Americans that I haven't had the time or inclination to ruminate over my problems, concerns, and failings. The possible fall and collapse of our country's economy, people losing their jobs and homes, 401(k) retirement plans being decimated on a daily basis on Wall Street, no end in sight to conflicts in Iraq and Afghanistan/Pakistan, people in the southeast still unable to get gasoline weeks after Hurricanes Gustov and Ike, a soon to arrive winter and skyrocketing home heating bills awaiting those in the Northeast, people struggling once again to rebuild their lives in Texas and Louisiana, on and on and on and on. In my mind there is so much uncertainty about all of our futures that there is no time to be selfish and worry about my own irrational problems.

Even closer to home, Suzanne is struggling with all that is on her plate, Robyn is battling cancer again, Random Chick is under the weather and in pain, and Mr. Shife has a new baby on the way and just got laid off, Karen is reliving a nightmare, and Cecile is having a crap day. Everyone is on the ropes, trying to survive the round only to come out to fight again. How can I possibly complain about my minutiae while so many others have so many more significant issues?

The Red Sox are in the playoffs and I can't get excited about it. I played golf for the first time in over three months and did much better than I could have ever imagined. Even that could only register a fleeting smile, a sense of accomplishment, then a realization that I wish I could play more but can't due to life. You all know work sucks, so need to even go there. My underlying depression is ever present but currently under wraps. It is on the sidelines, studying the field, waiting to come into the game. There is no joy in my life, but the personal lows haven't been that low. So I haven't been bitching about it. When it moves back into the forefront, you'll know.