I don't usually blog from work—or about work—but this is too good to pass up:
Last week I had an interview with American Idol winner Taylor Hicks. Looks like he found me to be a funny guy... at least, he used one of my lines in later interview (unattributed, natch.)
Read about it at the GO Magazine blog.
Peace
M
Thursday, July 19, 2007
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Shameful Saturday
The merriment of a co-worker/friend's birthday and a sort of general malaise prevented me from going on my long Saturday run today with the rest of the Team In Training-ites. Probably not a good move, though not an unforgiveable sin. Therefore I'm doing a switcheroo on my weekend routine--today is coffee and Internet day (followed by two interviews downtown and a Bat Mitzvah. No joke! More on that later.) and tomorrow will be the nine-miler. I hope it's just as overcast tomorrow as it is today.You'll notice a few new links on the right hand side of the page: There are a lot of good bloggers in Springfield. Click around, you'll enjoy the reads.
A few bullet points for a Saturday and I'll be on my merry way.
-- So about this Bat Mitzvah. The younger sister of one of my wife's bestest students is having her Jewish coming-of-age (I really don't know what else to call it) and the family invited us to attend. Nichole and I traveled with three members of this family during our trip to Italy and Greece in March... this bestest student took her mom and brother along, and bonding ensued. Just to prove I didn't make this up, I included a photo of Nichole and I at the Colosseum at the top of this post.
If you couple this evening's sure-to-be-interesting experience with the fact that I was best man in a traditional Jewish wedding a couple of years ago (my bestest buddy Nathan) and I, perhaps, have more first-hand ceremonial Jewish experience than any other journalist in Springfield. You know, unless any of them are actually Jewish.
-- Perhaps as karma for shirking my weekend run, I woke up this morning to find out the TV isn't working (it's obviously not the cable, because I'm working on our broadband right now.) If it's the picture tube on our barely one-year-old plasma, I'm going to flip out. How am I supposed to follow Big Brother 8?
-- I ate at Springfield's newest, swankiest sushi joint last night. It's called Kai, and it's very Asian-hipster... in all the best ways. I really haven't tasted sushi rolls like that, like, ever; from the noises my fellow diners were making, the seafood entrees were pretty tasty as well. There were a few service hiccups, mostly with the hostesses, but it's too early to knock that stuff anyway. Check it out if you haven't already.
-- I'm reading Cormac McCarthy's post-apocalyptic novel The Road right now. I'll give fuller impressions when I'm finished, but I think this is the book that might, finally, graduate me from my "Matt is obsessed with post-apocalyptic novels" phase (No, I haven't read the Left Behind series. No plans to), not because it's bad but because I'm pretty sure there's nothing left to say. You should read it. Oprah says so.
Gosh, I'm self-indulgent this morning.
Peace.
M
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
In America, he'd be directing FEMA
Nice shout out from Ron Davis at Chatter yesterday. Ron's one of Springfield's most relentless and respected bloggers (at least I think that's what the Blogaroni Award means.) He's also one of our city's bigger media critics, so his words about GO are appreciated.
But with that recognition comes added pressure to keep this blog updated and relevant, so here goes.
I've decided to put the running stuff LAST in each of my posts, as it will likely be of interest to the fewest people. I found the link to my Team In Training donation website. Click here to send me some much-needed moolah. I'm going to put a list of donors in a sidebar... as soon as I have some donors. Hugs and kisses (if you're hot and my wife isn't looking) in advance.
I'm not a news-a-phile. I mean, I keep track of current events but rarely do I obsess over foreign happenings or what's going on in the Bush White House. But yesterday, one story made my jaw drop: The execution of former Chinese State Food and Drug Administration head Zheng Xiaoyu.
From the New York Times.
If China's ambition is to be the next U.S., it's well on their way. Granted, approving potentially deadly pharmeceuticals is more blatant an offense than, say, taking soft money for your war chest. But is it THAT far from leaking the name of a CIA agent? Is it THAT far from being painfully, painfully incompetent when thousands of people are stranded in a football dome? Is it THAT far away from sending soldiers off to die on flimsy evidence? I'm not sure it is. Don't read this as a call for Scooter Libby to get the chair... I wouldn't want that to happen. But the man's sentence was commuted.
My incredulity sparked a brief but interesting e-mail flurry with my boss, during which I asked the question (or something to this effect): Can a country with such a deep-seeded sense of honor and shame really compete as a global superpower? To which Greg replied "Bring back Eisenhower!" I'm no historian, but it really does seem like our collective national shame went out the window when Marilyn Monroe did her little dance for JFK. It started with a feather boa; world domination ensued.
Enough on China, and I promise I won't get too heavy here too often. How 'bout that All-Star game, huh? I sat there for four hours waiting for Albert Pujols to hit--figuring he was being saved for a clutch situation at the end of the game, and then watched as a g-d Philadelphia Phillie few out with the bases loaded to end the game. Pujols had a right to be mad at his manager, Tony LaRussa, for not playing him, though the St. Louis paper's story gave his comments a bit more context than the national jokers, and bothered to mention that Pujols was in a fairly good humor during his interview. Still, no excuse. My favorite Cardinals blog, vivaelbirdos.com, got pretty animated today. I think, whether or not the Cardinals turn it around this year, it was the end of Tony LaRussa, or the beginning of the end, anyway.
You do not mess with El Hombre.
Tuesday's run was ho-hum. I tried to mix things up a little bit and run through a nearby neighborhood rather than going straight to the Greenways. It was sort of a mistake. People like to park their cars across sidewalks and trash cans smell icky. I ran about 3/4 of a mile on Golden Avenue, not remembering that there is no sidewalk on Golden just north of Battlefield. In all I went about four miles, with the usual big hill at the finish. Saturday's a longer nine-miler. We'll see how that goes, as I plan on mixing in several hills. My abs say thank'ya!
Peace.
M
But with that recognition comes added pressure to keep this blog updated and relevant, so here goes.
I've decided to put the running stuff LAST in each of my posts, as it will likely be of interest to the fewest people. I found the link to my Team In Training donation website. Click here to send me some much-needed moolah. I'm going to put a list of donors in a sidebar... as soon as I have some donors. Hugs and kisses (if you're hot and my wife isn't looking) in advance.
I'm not a news-a-phile. I mean, I keep track of current events but rarely do I obsess over foreign happenings or what's going on in the Bush White House. But yesterday, one story made my jaw drop: The execution of former Chinese State Food and Drug Administration head Zheng Xiaoyu.
From the New York Times.
Basically the guy took kickbacks in exchange for approval of substandard products, drugs, etc. For this he was executed. I'm not saying the execution was right or wrong. Eastern cultures have a complicated sense of shame and honor that I am not qualified to judge. Here was the kicker:Zheng Xiaoyu, former head of the State
Food and Drug Administration (SFDA), dominated television and print news a day after he was executed for taking some 6.5 million yuan ($850,000) in bribes to let medicine companies slip past his regulatory net.The People's Daily, voice of the ruling Communist Party, said the punishment was intended to deter other wayward officials.
"Corrupt elements will be thoroughly investigated no matter who they are, how high their post, or how deep they hide, and there can be no appeasement or softness," the newspaper said.
But even as the media cast Zheng's punishment as a sign of the leadership's commitment to curing graft, reports described a system of kickbacks and favors that went back a decade without public exposure.
If China's ambition is to be the next U.S., it's well on their way. Granted, approving potentially deadly pharmeceuticals is more blatant an offense than, say, taking soft money for your war chest. But is it THAT far from leaking the name of a CIA agent? Is it THAT far from being painfully, painfully incompetent when thousands of people are stranded in a football dome? Is it THAT far away from sending soldiers off to die on flimsy evidence? I'm not sure it is. Don't read this as a call for Scooter Libby to get the chair... I wouldn't want that to happen. But the man's sentence was commuted.
My incredulity sparked a brief but interesting e-mail flurry with my boss, during which I asked the question (or something to this effect): Can a country with such a deep-seeded sense of honor and shame really compete as a global superpower? To which Greg replied "Bring back Eisenhower!" I'm no historian, but it really does seem like our collective national shame went out the window when Marilyn Monroe did her little dance for JFK. It started with a feather boa; world domination ensued.
Enough on China, and I promise I won't get too heavy here too often. How 'bout that All-Star game, huh? I sat there for four hours waiting for Albert Pujols to hit--figuring he was being saved for a clutch situation at the end of the game, and then watched as a g-d Philadelphia Phillie few out with the bases loaded to end the game. Pujols had a right to be mad at his manager, Tony LaRussa, for not playing him, though the St. Louis paper's story gave his comments a bit more context than the national jokers, and bothered to mention that Pujols was in a fairly good humor during his interview. Still, no excuse. My favorite Cardinals blog, vivaelbirdos.com, got pretty animated today. I think, whether or not the Cardinals turn it around this year, it was the end of Tony LaRussa, or the beginning of the end, anyway.
You do not mess with El Hombre.
Tuesday's run was ho-hum. I tried to mix things up a little bit and run through a nearby neighborhood rather than going straight to the Greenways. It was sort of a mistake. People like to park their cars across sidewalks and trash cans smell icky. I ran about 3/4 of a mile on Golden Avenue, not remembering that there is no sidewalk on Golden just north of Battlefield. In all I went about four miles, with the usual big hill at the finish. Saturday's a longer nine-miler. We'll see how that goes, as I plan on mixing in several hills. My abs say thank'ya!
Peace.
M
Sunday, July 8, 2007
Easy Like...
Ah. Sunday mornings.
It's a comfortable routine, and after the early morning runs on Saturday, a blessed one. I wake up between 9 and 10, make some coffee. Goof around on the Internets for a couple of hours and then, maybe, take a shower and start my day. I'm still 20 minutes or so from that shower, which today, I think, will be followed by taking my dad to a movie, something I don't do nearly enough. Many Sundays include a few hours at the office, but with no deadline this week I think I'll manage to avoid that.
More about this marathon. I should add that my wife, Nichole, is training with me. She's preparing to run a half marathon the same day as my full. The catch: It's in San Francisco on Oct. 21. It's the same weekend as our fifth wedding anniversary. No, we're not into S&M. Earlier this year I joined the board of the Springfield Lukemia & Lymphoma Society, and felt compelled to participate in their Team in Training program. It's on my "life list" to run a marathon, and I figured I'm not getting any younger, right?
The San Fran race is the Nike Women's Marathon. Though men are allowed to compete (obviously), race veterans tell me men are often booed. Militant lesbians, you know? I plan on fashioning some sort of shirt or loose cape that says "I'm running with my wife." Imagine finishing 26.2 miles and getting effing booed! Good thing I have sizeable sense of irony.
The big catch to this marathon business is raising enough money to go. That means $3,800 each for me and Nichole. Yow. That's a lot of bake sales. Of course, if we do it, it means an all-expenses paid trip to the Bay Area for our anniversary--the actual day is Oct. 19, so all the romance can get out of the way prior to the dry-heaving. If you'd like to donate to our cause (I'll give you a big shout out, plus it's tax deductible) you can e-mail me at matthew.lemmon@gmail.com and I'll tell you how. When I get a link to the donate-online thingy, I'll put a permanent link at the bottom of the page.
Well, it's noon. Time to clean up and take the old man to see Live Free or Die Hard.
Peace.
M
It's a comfortable routine, and after the early morning runs on Saturday, a blessed one. I wake up between 9 and 10, make some coffee. Goof around on the Internets for a couple of hours and then, maybe, take a shower and start my day. I'm still 20 minutes or so from that shower, which today, I think, will be followed by taking my dad to a movie, something I don't do nearly enough. Many Sundays include a few hours at the office, but with no deadline this week I think I'll manage to avoid that.
More about this marathon. I should add that my wife, Nichole, is training with me. She's preparing to run a half marathon the same day as my full. The catch: It's in San Francisco on Oct. 21. It's the same weekend as our fifth wedding anniversary. No, we're not into S&M. Earlier this year I joined the board of the Springfield Lukemia & Lymphoma Society, and felt compelled to participate in their Team in Training program. It's on my "life list" to run a marathon, and I figured I'm not getting any younger, right?
The San Fran race is the Nike Women's Marathon. Though men are allowed to compete (obviously), race veterans tell me men are often booed. Militant lesbians, you know? I plan on fashioning some sort of shirt or loose cape that says "I'm running with my wife." Imagine finishing 26.2 miles and getting effing booed! Good thing I have sizeable sense of irony.
The big catch to this marathon business is raising enough money to go. That means $3,800 each for me and Nichole. Yow. That's a lot of bake sales. Of course, if we do it, it means an all-expenses paid trip to the Bay Area for our anniversary--the actual day is Oct. 19, so all the romance can get out of the way prior to the dry-heaving. If you'd like to donate to our cause (I'll give you a big shout out, plus it's tax deductible) you can e-mail me at matthew.lemmon@gmail.com and I'll tell you how. When I get a link to the donate-online thingy, I'll put a permanent link at the bottom of the page.
Well, it's noon. Time to clean up and take the old man to see Live Free or Die Hard.
Peace.
M
Saturday, July 7, 2007
One foot goes in front of the other, right?
Like so many of us in local media, I have decided to start my own blog. There are two reasons why:
1. I am training to run a marathon. Today was our weekly Saturday-morning "long run." Eight miles, to be exact. It fuc*ing sucked, my first day where I finished and said "Why in God's name am I doing this." I'm sure there will be more. A purpose of this blog is to help me through it.
2. Cleverly, however, I named it such that on days when I don't have a running update, I can sound of on this or that. There will be plenty of days like that. As journalists we so often write for other people that we need a place to write for ourselves. That may be a bit self-indulgent, but do blogs have any purpose larger than immediate gratification?
I suppose it's time for the "disclaimer." I am the editor of a magazine here in Springfield. Many of you will know it, some may not. This blog has nothing to do with that magazine. I will refrain from complaining about work if you refrain from confusing this blog and the opinions contained herein with the opinions or purposes of that magazine. I may link occasionally, if there's something worth sharing, but that's about it. For a proper example of a "this has nothing to do with my job" statement, I refer you to the homepage of my boss, mentor and fellow blogger, Gregory Holman (gregoryholman.blogspot.com.)
More later...
M
1. I am training to run a marathon. Today was our weekly Saturday-morning "long run." Eight miles, to be exact. It fuc*ing sucked, my first day where I finished and said "Why in God's name am I doing this." I'm sure there will be more. A purpose of this blog is to help me through it.
2. Cleverly, however, I named it such that on days when I don't have a running update, I can sound of on this or that. There will be plenty of days like that. As journalists we so often write for other people that we need a place to write for ourselves. That may be a bit self-indulgent, but do blogs have any purpose larger than immediate gratification?
I suppose it's time for the "disclaimer." I am the editor of a magazine here in Springfield. Many of you will know it, some may not. This blog has nothing to do with that magazine. I will refrain from complaining about work if you refrain from confusing this blog and the opinions contained herein with the opinions or purposes of that magazine. I may link occasionally, if there's something worth sharing, but that's about it. For a proper example of a "this has nothing to do with my job" statement, I refer you to the homepage of my boss, mentor and fellow blogger, Gregory Holman (gregoryholman.blogspot.com.)
More later...
M
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