Tiger Woods Improves His Lie

The Tiger Woods story continues to catch fire. Unfortunately, Tiger's official statement only makes things worse, and not better.

According to the highest paid athlete in human history:

This is a private matter and I want to keep it that way. Although I understand there is curiosity, the many false, unfounded and malicious rumors that are currently circulating about my family and me are irresponsible.

Three big things here. 1) That billion bucks you got in the bank, Mr. Icewater-in-his-veins? Yeah, that billion. That’s the money that the public gave you, and you rapidly accepted, which no longer affords you any privacy. You are a public figure, and a damn well-paid one at that. Time to put your man pants on and suck it up.

2) – A buddy on Facebook wrote today that this was the only time he could ever accurately say that he had a better weekend than Tiger Woods. True, indeed.

3) – If South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford coined the latest great euphemism for infidelity (“hiking the Appalachian trail”), what could be the excuse that Tiger could use? Here are some thoughts:

“Playing a provisional”

“Teeing off from the tips”

“Improving his lie”

“Leaving a ball mark”

Please post up with any others…

Charleston Beach Thanksgiving

It was a great Thanksgiving Day here in South Carolia, as evidenced by this "South Carolina Snowman" that we watched getting constructed yesterday. We spent nearly two hours on the beach - walking, flying kites, learning to ride bikes, wading in the water, and overall enjoying the clear blue sky and 70 degree temps.

The videos add some additional insight.

Hope you all had a great Thanksgiving.

"You know, you're lucky..."

It has become tradition at my family Thanksgiving dinner to go around the table and recite aloud to those present the reasons why you're thankful. I have been thinking a lot about this the past couple of weeks, as it has been a really hard year for my family and me this year. Since I'm good at worrying about stuff like this, I've been racking my brain this entire time as to what I'd say when it came my turn to speak.

Then the voice of my dad came to me.

Throughout my life - probably a half dozen times or more in total - he'd hit me with the comment of "You know, you're lucky." Sometimes he'd drop it on me when he had an obvious point to make, and sometimes it was in far more subtle situations. But every time he did it, he was effective of jarring me into an accurate accounting of my state relative to others.

He's right. Even despite a challenging year, I am lucky. Blessed even.

Consider this:

• I'm healthy. Sure there are tweaks that could be made, but overall for someone my age, I have no complaints of any significance. Physically and mentally, I have a sound foundation.
• I want for nothing. Yes, a new truck, a boat, and a European trip for my wife and I would be great, and are not forthcoming anytime soon. But give me a break. We live a comfortable life; one that's not opulent, but one that is not frugal either.
• I'm surrounded by friends and family that love me. There's really not much more to add to this.

Indeed, I am lucky, and I apologize if my tone here sometimes doesn't take that perspective into account.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.

And thank you, dad.

How Bad is it Getting for Obama?

When SNL leads off with this, you know the base is turning.

Big time.

Global Warming - A Political Hoax (One of Many)

You've being lied to.

Hackers have proved that there is an abject conspiracy afoot to propagate the myth of "man-made global warming." More details, with multiple links can be found here.

Considering the vast societal changes, economic impacts, and massive transference of billions that is tied to this conspiracy, you'd think that coverage of the lies and cover-up to be a massive news story.

And you're wrong.

This is another in a long line of left policies that is nothing but a massive fraud, and one that is committed under the air cover of a media that chooses to simply ignore the story. The "stimulus," heath care, cap and trade - nearly every major left initiative - is nothing but a colossal west-loathing transference of wealth.

Even small projects like "cash for clunkers" and breast cancer screening recommendations are fraught with massive amounts of fraud and ignorance of simple concepts.

And, finally, the American people are starting to get it, despite a complicit media.

Joe Mauer? MVP. Twins? .500

Congratulations to Joe Mauer, the 2009 American League MVP. He was the clear choice, as with Justin Morneau out for the stretch, Mauer was the guy that picked this team up and carried them to a post-season appearance.

Now the big question comes: will we keep him?

I fear that either way we'll lose. The Yankees and Red Sox would gladly pay whatever it takes to land Mauer. Their catching corps would be massively upgraded with a bat and defense Mauer would give them, and whoever would land him surely would be the odds-on favorite for the championship. Mauer is that good, and their current solution is that bad.

If the Twins somehow find a way to pay Mauer, they'll need to be at least close to market value, which will mean zero, and I mean zero money gets spent on anyone else. Basically we'd be left with Mauer, Morneau, and a bunch of guys like Nick Punto. Ugh.

With a new Twins stadium launching this season, the decision will not be an easy one either way. Unfortunately, I fear the outcomes will be similar - the Twins will be about .500

Regardless of what happens, it has been fun to watch the M&M boys these past years. Who would have thought we'd be talking about two Twins MVPs in the past four years? Incredible.

2009 Minnesota Duck Season - Week Eight

Do you see anything in the sky? That's right, loyal reader, there is nothing.

Unfortunately, this last week of waterfowl hunting was spent looking at sky that looked exactly like this.

While the season technically remains open, it is over for me as I spend Thanksgiving with my family. Numerically, it was a good season, despite the worst opener of my life, and despite a complete bust the last weekend. Viewing it in retrospect, though, I guess this last weekend seems a fitting bookend to an otherwise enjoyable season.

Our results were unfortunate, as we had a Yellow Dog Patrol (plus two others) just waiting to do their part.

No more duck hunting until the annual Yankee invasion of our beloved Tallulah in later January.

It will be here before we know it.

Terror at the Duck Camp

The old farm house that serves as our duck camp can best be described as "rustic." It was built about the turn of the century (no, the other century) and hasn't really housed people on a full-time basis since the early 1970's.

Its owners now consist of three partner groups made up of guys' guys. We're way into hunting, sports, dogs, and dirt. We're definitely not into comforts or cleaning.

As such, the house is stricken with vermin. Fly infestations right out of The Amityville Horror, hornets nesting in the walls, Box Elder bugs, Asian Beetles, rats, bats, and just about every type of mouse, mole, and shrew has plagued our humble abode.

So when I was awaken in the middle of the night last week by something in my room, I assumed (as had been the case a number of times before) that a mouse had made its way into my room, and by my simply making a noise to announce my presence to the critter, he'd recognize that he was not alone and would skedaddle right out. So I groggily rapped my hand against the bed frame, expecting the next sound I would hear to be scampering little feet.

Wrong. Couldn't have been more wrong.

The next sound was not of a small mouse, but of something big. Damn big.

I opened my eyes, and silhouetted against the window in the pitch black of the room, I could see the figure of an animal atop the empty bed across the room.

I gave myself a second to verify what I was seeing: it was indeed an animal, it was big (like raccoon size), and it was moving. And it slinked off the bed.

At this point I did what any macho, alpha-male, great white hunter would have done. I bolted out of bed, screaming a the top of my lungs "WHAT THE F---! WHAT THE F---!" and reached for the light switch.

In the dark, my aim was true as my hand hit the switch right on the button, and with a quick snap the room filled with light. I looked down, fully expecting to deal with a raccoon or giant swap rat, and instead, sitting right next to me, was this:

My partner's young dog had left her crate in the middle of the night, and had decided the spare bed in my room would make a good place to finish out the night, especially since my open door appeared to be such a welcoming invitation.

As I let out vile spew of profanity, half of me was relived that I didn't end up fighting a vile beast, and half of me was ticked off that a tiny little lab pup could cause so much abject terror in a grown man.

While the pup headed into her master's room, I quickly made haste downstairs as all of that excitement required an immediate trip to the bathroom.

It's kind of hard to pee with your knees shaking.