The headline in today's The Athletic begins: "Ted Ginn, Jr, ex-NFL receiver and UFL coach...". Ted Ginn Jr? Now that's a name I've not heard in a long time. A long time.

Ginn, for those of you who haven't wasted the past few decades following the rotting corpse of a once great football team called the Miami Dolphins, was the 9th overall pick in the 2007 draft. He played his college football for Ohio State, where he set a record for scoring on punt returns. I presume that's why GM Randy Mueller (who had been installed as something of a figurehead GM during Nick Saban's head coaching tenure only to find himself in over his head when Saban abruptly skipped town) drafted Ginn as high as he did. Ginn had great foot speed but hands of stone. He was an immediate bust.

I happened to be in the stands when Ginn finally scored his first NFL punt return touchdown following the Eagles' opening drive in week 11. The Dolphins were to that point winless on the season, and I had already soured on Ginn. My brother, an Eagles fan, knew it. So when Ginn scored, he immediately taunted me with "Who's your fav-rit play-er? Ted Gin Jun-ior!" He would repeat that whenever Ginn's name came up in NFL broadcasts in the following years.

Admittedly, the 2007 coach and roster Mueller assembled didn't do Ginn any favors. (Can you name any of the three quarterbacks who started for the Dolphins in 2007? There will be a quiz later.) But after just three years in Miami, he was traded to the 49ers. Thereafter, he spent equally short terms with the Panthers, Cardinals, Panthers (again), Saints, and Bears. That's actually a pretty good career by NFL standards, and he wouldn't be widely considered as a bust if he hadn't been drafted so high by a team that needed so much help.

Anyway, all that is what I think of when I read the rest of that headline: "...arrested on DWI charge in Texas." I have to say that it's nice to know that some things don't change. Nearly twenty years later, Ted Ginn, Jr. continues to disappoint.

Pop quiz, hot shot! The Miami Dolphins 2007 quarterbacks: Trent Green (5 starts), Cleo Lemon (7 starts), John Beck (4 starts). Lemon was the only QB on the roster when Ginn was drafted. Later-career Trent Green was signed in June on a one-year deal to shore up a terrible roster. John Beck was the rookie QB taken after Ginn with the 40th overall pick, after JaMarcus Russell, Brady Quinn, and Kevin Kolb. There's a reason 2007 is considered one of the all time worst QB classes.

Comments (0) | Leave a Comment | Permalink | Tags: dear diary dolphins dolphins quarterbacks suck family football news ted ginn jr trey

DAD: Do you think they'll play all Elite Eight NCAA basketball games in one day this weekend?

ME: No. They'll spread them over two days as usual.

DAD: I suppose they want us to be able to watch them all?

ME: Yes, but your viewing pleasure is a secondary concern. The NCAA is primarily interested in maximizing the broadcast window so that they can increase advertising revenue. Sports broadcasting decisions are all about the money.

DAD: You mean to tell me that if they broadcast a meteor falling to earth, the money caused that?

ME: No. That's totally different. No one is paying for meteor strikes.

DAD: So broadcasting decisions are not all about money.

ME (raising voice): No! I mean, meteors are not sports. Those are Two! Different! Subjects!

DAD: Now you're yelling. That's my fault. You don't take it well when I point out when you are wrong.

...

I don't wonder why some children abuse their parents; I wonder why more don't.

Comments (0) | Leave a Comment | Permalink | Tags: dad family

For the last few years, we've had a Jeopardy! page-a-day calendar. This year, Mom opted for a History Channel This Day in History calendar because she got a great price on it... in February. I'm starting to think the price markdown was for more than just the expiration date.

This Day in History for March 5, 1770, was the Boston Massacre. Maybe you've heard of it? It's pretty famous. According to the calendar, British Private Hugh Montgomery "slipped and fell, discharging his musket into the taunting crowd." Though this makes it sound like an accident, eyewitness testimony at the trial indicated that Montgomery shot only after recovering his dropped rifle and regaining his feet. That, plus the fact that he more or less confessed, is surely why Montgomery was one of only two of the eight soldiers found guilty of manslaughter.¹

The calendar also explicitly states that "John Adams and Josiah Quincy Jr.² defended the colonists." Both of those men would like to assure you that they defended the prosecuted soldiers. In point of fact, there were three trials related to the massacre, the first two against soldiers (Rex vs. Preston and Rex v. Wemms et al.) and the third, much lesser known, against colonists (Rex vs. Manwaring et al). There were no defense attorneys in the third trial, so the calendar is flatly wrong.

(Technically, I suppose, so long as we're being pedantic, we should say that there were four trials related to the Boston Massacre, as according to the 1771 summary of the trial published in The Trial of W. Wemms, J. Hartegan, W. McCauley, H. White, M. Killroy, W. Warren, J. Carrol, and H. Montgomery, Soldiers in His Majesty's 29th Regiment of Foot, for the Murder of C. Attucks, S. Gray, H. Maverick, J. Caldwell, and P. Carr, the sole witness for the prosecution at the third trial, Charles Bourgat, was found not credible and was later brought up on charges of perjury. I don't fault the calendar for omitting this fact. But it is a fun bit of Americana legal trivia.)

Now that I've caught This Day In History making these mistakes, I'm doubting the accuracy of everything it tells me. Sure, these may have been honest editorial grammatical errors, but in this day and age where Google's terrible search AI is giving me factually incorrect answers to everything,³ I think it's more important than ever that the people who claim to be authorities in their fields know what they're talking about. Why should I learn facts about history from people who don't know the facts of history? If you can't trust a discount page-a-day calendar, who can you trust?

¹ Montgomery's punishment was having the letter M "for murder" branded on his thumb,⁴ which is very The Scarlet Letter indeed.⁵

² These days, it seems historians usually refer to the father of 15th Harvard University President Josiah Quincy III as Josiah Quincy II. However, when the son published a posthumous biography cobbled together from father's "journals and letters" in 1825, he titled the book Memoir of the Life of Josiah Quincy, Junior, of Massachusetts Bay: 1744-1775. And who is the History Channel to argue with a former president of Harvard?

³ DO NOT READ GOOGLE AI RESULTS FOR ANYTHING. Seriously, people, I cannot tell you how unhelpful Google AI responses were in researching this topic, a famous incident in American History that has been extensively researched and documented. The responses were so astonishingly wrong, you're just as likely to get correct responses to queries if you asked the teenager at the window of your local Burger King drive-thru. Which, I suppose, does mean that in all the ways that matter, Google AI successfully passes the Turing Test.

⁴ According to Wikipedia, the "benefit of clergy" defense used to save Montgomery from the gallows was abolished in the United Kingdom 1827 and from United States federal law in 1790, though the possibility exists that it may still be recognized in some state courts. I recommend consulting a lawyer before trying it yourself.

⁵ Though it takes place in the 1640s, The Scarlet Letter was published March 16, 1850. I've already peeked ahead; March 16, the calendar tells me, marks the day in 2006 that the "First Lady of Drag Racing," Shirley "Cha Cha" Muldowney, was inducted into the International Drag Racing Hall of Fame, which at least fits the National Women's History Month theme. Weirdly, despite explicitly mentioning four other Halls of Fame she belongs to, Muldowney's Wikipedia page does not mention this induction, though the Don Garlits Museum of Drag Racing which sponsors the IDRHoF does. Why does the calendar endorse this one in particular? I guess that's just another one of history's mysteries.

Comments (2) | Leave a Comment | Permalink | Tags: family history john adams mom

My latest painting:

I wanted a photo of me punching that Mystery Box, and I couldn't take it myself, so I enlisted Mom's help. She has never played Super Mario Bros., and she didn't quite understand what I was after or, apparently, that you can keep pressing the shutter button on my phone to capture a whole bunch of images (because, you know, there's not actually a roll of film inside the phone). And that is how you get an expression like that on my face.

Comments (0) | Leave a Comment | Permalink | Tags: art diy family mom video games walter

Let's go ahead and put these three together:

6/2576. Francis (1950)
11/2581. Francis Goes to the Races (1951)
18/2588. Francis Goes to West Point (1952)

Once upon a time, one of my grandmothers expressed surprise that I'd never seen the Francis the Talking Mule movies. (Honestly, I don't remember which grandmother, and they're both long gone now so I can't ask. If I had to guess, it was probably Granny; she was a lifelong devoted fan of the "picture shows," even if she thought they got too coarse from the 1970s onward. In hindsight, I think she had a point.)

Thanks to TCM, I finally made the effort to watch the first three. (There are seven in all, but Donald O'Connor and Chill Wills are only in the first six.) I'm happy to report that these three are indeed quite enjoyable. I particularly enjoyed the talking mule providing secret assistance to the West Point football coach. The highest complement I can pay is that they make me want to read the book that inspired them.

More to come.

Comments (0) | Leave a Comment | Permalink | Tags: dear diary family movies

Mom shares her New York Times digital subscription with me, so I assumed that was why the algorithm thought I could use an ad linking me to this:

While my appreciation for spandex is well documented, what struck me about this particular advertisement was the obvious modesty-preserving panty liner the model was using. That crotch bulge seems so familiar....

Oh, right. It's how Dan Jurgens draws male superhero crotches.

Superman #123 limited edition "Glow-in-the-Dark" variant, May 1997

Maybe that ad was targeting me after all.

Comments (0) | Leave a Comment | Permalink | Tags: advertising comic books family mom spandex superman walter

Flower

I first heard of Phair in 1993 in the Mazda Miata with Mom during the afternoon rush hour commute between Emory University and Newnan when Phair's debut Exile in Guyville album was reviewed on NPR.

Thanks to the Internet, I can tell you that day must have been Tuesday, July 20,¹ when Ken Tucker reviewed Exile in Guyville, released in June 1993, for Terry Gross's Fresh Air. That was the summer before my freshman year at Emory, so what was I doing in the car? Was I working part-time in the Pediatric Infectious Diseases office with Mom before my work-study position started in August, or was I just killing time driving the convertible around downtown Atlanta while Mom was working? Could have been either.)

The Internet also makes it possible for me to transcribe Tucker's praise for this song in particular:

There's a thin quality to Exile in Guyville. It ends up making you think that Liz Phair is something of a dabbler, that If this rock thing doesn't work out, she'll take up painting or maybe just use her trust fund to live in Paris for a while. But there's a core of about four or five songs here that are really first rate, and one in particular, called "Flower," that I can't play on the radio but which is as fine and bold a song as I've heard about sexual obsession.

Obviously, I had to have any album with that kind of recommendation. I probably bought the cassette at the Tower Records behind Lennox Mall, and I recall playing it quite a bit during the long commutes between Atlanta and Newnan. Listening to Phair always made me feel rebellious and cool, as good rock music should. "I'll take you home and make you like it," indeed.

Thanks, Internet!

¹ The Internet tells me July 20, 1993², was the same day that the press box caught on fire at Atlanta Fulton County Stadium, which 90s Atlanta Braves fans will recall as the day that Fred "Crime Dog" McGriff made his debut for the team, in his third at-bat hitting a home run to drive in Ron Gant to tie the game at 5-5 in the 6th inning. The fire didn't start until 6, so I think we found out about the fire after we got home. The fire delayed the game start until after 9; I might have watched it, but I don't have any memory of that.

² You know what else happened on July 20, 1993? Some guy named Vince Foster committed suicide. And no one ever uttered his name again.

Comments (0) | Leave a Comment | Permalink | Tags: dear diary family internet liz fair mom music one word wonders youtube

This may come as a surprise to you, but I'm frequently irritated by the things I say and do. A little voice inside my head judges and tells me that it was pretentious or dull or cruel or any number of other words it looked up in a thesaurus under "wrong." I've been told that I shouldn't pay too much attention to that little voice, that I should be kinder to myself, but some days it's harder than others, and right now that voice is making it very hard to post anything that doesn't make me want to slap myself.

So instead, here's a picture I took this afternoon while the poodles were playing in Dad's backyard.

Comments (0) | Leave a Comment | Permalink | Tags: clouds dad family walter

My dreams lately have been full of shootings, stabbings, and death, but I wouldn't say I was having nightmares. Any outright horror in them has been subdued, like in a classic Hollywood crime story. I generally feel tense, not afraid. Using the language of movie genres, maybe I should call them suspense-mares.

One thing they seem to have in common is that many are set or begin in Victorian houses chock-full of bedrooms with dark-stained wood wall paneling, well-worn hardwood floors, cast-iron beds, chamber pots, and ornately carved fireplaces with roaring fires. And when I say houses full of bedrooms, I mean exactly that: the only rooms in these houses are bedrooms. Even the hallways, stairwells, and closets seem to have been adapted to bedrooms.

To be clear: these houses are not scary to me. I'm not trapped; I can leave the building any time I want. And I almost always approve of the tasteful layout, furnishings, decor. I'd willingly live in any of them. (Though, as my family will attest, I have unusual taste in residential architecture. Mom has long called eclectic houses with outdated designs "Walter Houses." Finances aside, I've never been able to understand why anyone would want to live in a house that looked like anyone else's.)

According to a quick Googling of the dream symbology of bedrooms, "a bedroom in a dream symbolizes your private inner self." Okay, if you say so. But what if it's all bedrooms all the way down? Am I just an especially deep person? Or so narcissistic that I'm just a Droste effect of navel gazing to infinity?

If my brain is trying to tell me something, I wish it'd just come out and say it.

Comments (0) | Leave a Comment | Permalink | Tags: dreams family mom walter

I'm pretty sure that tonight's game matching #10 Texas against #5 Georgia was the last game I'm going to see in Sanford Stadium as a season ticket holder.

To ensure we made it this time (after the traffic fiasco that prevented us from seeing Mississippi last month), Mom and I left the house four-and-a-half hours early. For many years, we parked at Clarke Central High School, where parking fees helped fund extracurricular activities, but as the University has driven tailgating farther and farther from expensive campus lots, the high school now fills up extra early. So we parked at the dentist office across the street instead. Mom wanted to walk the old route through the student center into the stadium, which ultimately only served as a reminder that the University has built new barriers to block it. Oh well. We had plenty of time, and were still in our seats 90 minutes before kickoff, even after I was misled by some context clues (temporary stadium seats that looked like the old seat backs replaced earlier this year) and mistakenly accused someone else of being in our seats. Poor Mom. She's usually in bed by 9, but we didn't get home again until after 2AM. (Don't worry about Audrey: the dogsitter got her fed and to bed on time.)

As it happens, the guy I wrongly asked to move has been attending UGA games for decades, even after moving from Covington, GA, to Florida, but he said after a few decades, he canceled his season tickets and now instead spends that money and more buying tickets on the secondary market just for the games he wants to attend (in Athens and in other locations for other teams). It's a sound plan, one I've been contemplating a lot recently in this modern era of pay-for-play college football. Once upon a time, the university told me my donations bought books and meals. Now, my money finances base salaries, freeing big-donor money to outbid other colleges for the best kickers in the transfer portal. Somehow, I don't find that as satisfying.

Which is not to say that I don't think the players should be paid. Since they are the product, they should get the lion's share of whatever the football program takes in. But it's also fair for me to judge whether I think I'm getting my value's worth from my season tickets. Given that I only made it to two games this year (UGA closes its home schedule next week against 1-9 Charlotte at 12:45 PM, and I am definitely not going), I think the math is pretty clear.

As it happens, when I wasn't stuck in my own head thinking about the future, I did notice there was also a football game played in Athens. It was okay, but it certainly did not live up to the hype. (Though I'm probably spoiled by the two spectacular wins UGA put on Texas last season.) Georgia was pretty obviously the better team for most of this game, even if their offensive coordinator was calling predictable plays that made Texas's defensive line look amazing for about half the game. But the imprecision of the Longhorn's youthful quarterback (some kid named Arch Manning) ultimately doomed them. You'll read in the tabloids about fourth down conversions and an onside kick that blew the game open late, but Georgia had 14 points by halftime, more than enough to win what would become a 35-10 blowout. Good Dogs.

I hope that some other team will be nice and give Georgia a chance to play in the SEC title game. If that happens, I'll happily watch that game with my dogs beside me on the couch.

Comments (0) | Leave a Comment | Permalink | Tags: family football mom sanford texas walter