Why University of Minnesota Students Ignore Gopher Football

Nadine Babu wrote an outstanding article posted on the StarTribue which offered explanations for the meager following of Gopher Football by U of M students.  First reason offered?  The Gophers lose.  A lot.

When you can't beat the pesky NDSU Bison on your home field, it's pretty tough asking a poor college kid to fork out nearly $100 to watch the ineptitude live and in person.

I encourage you to read the whole thing.  Great article.

Top 5 Coolest Things About Curiosity

A Dog Named Blit, Chapter 8 "4th Year, Part 4"

For background on this serial, please click here. You can also start at the previous section

I first met my buddy Fuzzy my freshman year at college.  He was loud and funny and loved to hunt and fish.  My type of guy.  We hit it off right away, and became close friends.  We remained close after school, often hunting and fishing together, standing up at each other’s weddings, and just doing things that friends do. 

That closeness all changed when his wife went off the deep end, had her version of a midlife crisis, and viciously ripped Fuzzy’s heart out of his chest by ending their marriage. She was cruel, hurtful, and Fuzzy saw none of it coming.  He was vulnerable.  Hence, the blindsided hit he took left him a complete wreck. 

With his world collapsing around him, he turned to me.  I’m not sure why he did, but I ended up a sounding board, psychiatrist, bartender, and shoulder to cry on all in one.  In his darkest days he stayed with Vera and me, and I held him once as he cried and said “My wife doesn’t love me anymore…”  When that kind of thing happens, you go from buddy to something far deeper. 

He is more than a buddy to me, and vice versa.  So when he left work early that day to hear about Blitz, he was being more than a buddy.  He was taking care of me, because that’s what we do. 

I got to the bar and found Fuzzy had beaten me there, and had a Grain Belt Premium already waiting for me. I told him all I knew from what had happened and from what the doctors had told me, and he offered an optimistic “let’s wait and see what happens,” response to all of my greatest fears and conclusions.  Back and forth we went, and the talking was helping.  Unfortunately, the beer was making it tough for me to control my emotions.  He was telling me “Hey, she’s a young dog.  In great shape. Who am I kidding, she’s in perfect shape.  If any dog can pull this out, it will be Blitz.”  At that point I started to crack.  “She has to,” I said, with my voice quivering, “I got her to help me get over losing Dad.  I can’t lose her too…”  As I trailed off, hiding my face, a strong hand grabbed my shoulder and a soft voice said, “I know.” 

We finished our beers, and I was off to see my wife.  Vera was waiting for me when I got in, and I fell into her arms an emotional wreck.  We cried and talked most of the night, and finally agreed that we could do nothing until we got word from the doctor in the next days of what we were dealing with.  All we could do was hope. 

The two day wait to pick Blitz up took forever, and I had a tough time working as I was waiting to get her back.  I struggled on my concentration, and spent a number of minutes in the men's bathroom trying to restrain my emotions.  Part of me was embarrassed by my emotional reaction, and part of me didn't care who saw what when it came out.  I was hurting bad, and frankly had other things to worry about other than what some coworkers thought.  Some were incredibly kind - in one of the lowest moments I had a woman that worked with me come into my office and rub my back while I sobbed - and some were total idiots.  "It's just a dog..." I heard them whisper. 

Yeah.  Just a dog. 

On the appointed day I drove to the University with very mixed emotions.  I really wanted to just get Blitz back and hold her, but I was also fretful for the results of the biopsy.  Unfortunately, we'd not be hearing on the test results for a couple of more days, and that added to the anxiety of the situation.  Regardless, Blitz would be coming home where she belonged, and that was the most important thing. 

I arrived and checked in, and nearly immediately a door was burst open by a wiggly yellow lab escorted by three young vet technicians.  No matter where she when and what procedure she needed, Blitz always loved vets.  She loved meeting new people, getting attention, and the treats that often came with the visits.  Similarly, veterinarian staffs loved Blitz back.  She was a genuinely happy dog; her tail always wagging regardless of the situation.  She never whined, nipped, barked, growled, or showed any kind of negative emotion.  She was just a happy dog, and all of the vet employees enjoyed her regardless where she went.  Judging by the entourage she had with her, it was obvious that she made some good friends here as well. 

Blitz was limping quite significantly, and that's when I saw the wound left from the biopsy.  Far from the small chip of bone that I expected them to remove, Blitz was missing a distinct piece of bone, about one inch by a quarter inch, from her knee.  She had a significant, sizable divot taken out of her leg.  Immediately, I again went back to that first day I picked her up and promised I'd take good care of her.  This procedure, this shockingly invasive and destructive procedure, was it necessary?  Regardless of the diagnosis she did not have long to live, so why the hell did I do it in the first place?  What was the use?  What the hell what I thinking?  Yet again, I broke my solemn promise to her.  Idiot! 

In mid-guilt trip, Blitz's eyes met mine.  She instantly went into a joyful frenzy, as if to say "Hi boss!  Man, have I missed you!" I went to my knees and threw my arms around her neck.  "I'm so sorry," I whispered to her.  Her thumping tail let me know that once again, all was forgiven.  No hard feelings at all.  Just like all the other times before.

After the reunion, I met with the surgeon to review the procedure, discuss when we could expect results, and discuss Blitz's convalescence.  We finished our conversation, and the surgeon looked at me with hurt eyes.  Given what they must see on a daily basis, I was surprised at her expression of emotion.  "I'm so sorry Mr. Sidders," she said.  "Blitz is such a sweet dog.  I wish you both luck."     

The Difference Between How Rich and Poor Spend Money

From Lam Vo of NPR comes a recap based on US Bureau of Labor statistics which shows the percent of income spent in different categories for different income cohorts. 

The results surprised me:

On a percentage basis, income groups spend very similarly.  The biggest differences reside with Food at Home, Utilities, Transportation and Gasoline, Education and Saving for Retirement.  Some of these are intuitive, others not.  But, clearly, the cost of energy hurts the poor the hardest. 

Hence, if one really cared about the plight of the poor, one would be seeking ways to add supply to the energy markets, thus lowering costs.  But, as we know very well, those in charge in Washington have another agenda all together.

Hitler Video: Paul Ryan Selected by Romney as VP Pick

Minneapolis Westin: A Review of What Stinks

As posted yesterday, the Minneapolis Westin bumped us to the Hampton Inn in Minnetonka because they sold my room.  My wife and I have been thinking about it all weekend.  The more we do, the more livid we become. 

Some specific questions, beyond those raised in the first post:

• I think the claim of "downtown is completely full" was hogwash.  When I placed my reservations 7 days ago, I had options all over downtown.  Now, when it would have cost Westin additional to put us up somewhere decent downtown, all of the sudden downtown is "full" and we're forced to go to a lousy hotel in the suburbs.  I call BS on that, and given the lie about the "nice suite" to which we were being sent, seems par for the course.
• I've been told a "manager" will call me this week sometime.  Why in the world does it take days to talk with me about how my anniversary weekend was ruined?  Are their people not empowered to take care of the customer?  It's called the "hospitality business."  Being hospitable seems to me to be the job of whoever is in charge over the weekend.
• Per their "guarantee" (what a complete bastardization of that word) on my reservation "confirmation" (ditto): "In the event more guests arrive than can be accommodated due to hotel overbooking or an unforeseen circumstance, and hotel is unable to hold rooms consistent with this room hold policy, hotel will attempt to accommodate guests, at its expense, at a comparable hotel in the area for the oversold night(s), and will pay for transportation to that hotel."  Our hotel was neither comparable nor in the area.  Neither one was close.
• But wait.  I had a reservation confirmation.  I had agreed to pay for my room, regardless if I showed up or not.  So why was my room given to someone else when all they needed to say was "I'm sorry, sir, even though all guest haven't checked in yet, we're all booked for the evening?"  The only thing that makes sense is some sap showed up without a reservation, was willing to pay an exorbitant amount, and presto, he has my room and I'm at the Hampton Inn.  Kick me out, soak him.

As a customer, I just feel like a total chump.  Their problem (or in the sap scenario above, their opportunity) became my problem, and a lousy experience was crammed down my throat. 

Beware this hotel.

Minneapolis Westin Nightmare

My wife and I are in Minneapolis celebrating our 18th anniversary.  We had a great weekend planned:

• Arrive early Saturday
• Time in the afternoon with the girls for her, and the boys with me
• Coldplay in St. Paul
• Downtown Minneapolis with a stay at the Westin
• Breakfast at Ike's
• Twins game
• Back home

Pretty much the whole thing hinged around getting and staying downtown. 

Imagine my surprise when I got a call from the Westin while on the way to the concert, informing me that they would not honor my reservation.  All the rooms are gone.  Tough bounce.

But not to worry!  They were going to put me up at "a suite at a Hilton" that was "just outside of Minneapolis."

This is our Hilton

This is our suite

Turns out we are staying well outside of Minneapolis, literally three miles away from my mom's house.  We could have slept there in better comfort.

I get that overbookings occasionally happen.  But I always come away with the feeling that because somebody bitched better than I did, they got my room and I got the shaft.

I don't want a free room at some crappy Hampton Inn.  I want to celebrate my anniversary with my wife downtown.  Like we planned. 

Westin, you blew it.  I don't travel much, but I assure you you'll never get another dime from me, and I'll be making sure that goes ditto for my team on all of their corporate travel.  Simply put, you can't be trusted.  Either in honoring your reservations, or being genuine in your solutions.

Coldplay St. Paul Concert Review, Second Night

We attended the second of two back-to-back nights for Coldplay in St. Paul, and if they were bored in any way with the lack of change in venue, it did not show.  The concert was simply outstanding.

Notes from the evening:

• Chris Martin is a front man in every sense of the word.  Showman, band leader, crowd pleaser, and lunch pail mentality all rolled into one.  While he's no Springsteen, he's Springsteen-like in approach to his work and his audience.  He flew around the stage, working his butt off, and had the crowd eating out of his hands.  Simply a great lead singer.
• The show was a visual spectacle.  Confetti cannons, laser lights, balloons, and these lighted bracelets made the event one for the eyes a much as the ears.  Really impressive.

• As they had done the last time we saw them, the band came off the main stage and set up an impromptu stage in the crowd.  And, just like the last time, we were really close to them.  15 feet close.  Here's a good shot:

• The set list was fairly standard, with the only big miss for me was Talk was not performed.  It is a personal favorite for me and holds a lot of meaning, so I missed it a lot.  That being said, the rest of the set was very sold and quite enjoyable.
• The opening acts were absolutely brutal.  Charlie XCX and Marianna & the Diamonds were both horrible in stage presence, way too pop oriented, limited in vocal ability, and just not very good.  Both were the worst musical acts I've seen in many years.  However, both had strong percussion, which salvaged their respective sets.  Avoid these guys at all costs.

Coldplay is a really great band.  Their musicianship, work ethic, and joy were on display in full force tonight.  It resulted in a great band delivering a great show.