Reach for the Stars, Get the Moon

It's over. As of today I've posted 1,000,091 meters. Officially, the quest has ended. Two days early. Even after bronchitis kept me away for 3 days. Got back on these last two days and pounded out the final meters.

It's been worth every ounce of sweat, pain, and second of time.

Find yourself a goal. Make one. Achieve it.

It really feels good.

I promise.

On The Cusp

I missed my self-imposed posting deadline this week for the million meter row. Oh well.

Having said that, the update is this: meters rowed is now 976,612, leaving me 23,388 meters from the million.

With 8 days left in the month, this is a sure thing. If, of course, I'm not hit by a car, come down with a case of gall stones, or let Jeff Flanagan's column make me sick.

Fire Jeff Flanagan

With all due respect to one of my favorite newly found blogs, Fire Joe Morgan, I'm stealing the title to argue (rail against?) for the release of his duties one Jeff Flanagan, sports writer for the Kansas City Star newspaper.

If you're reading this, and you probably aren't, you might not be aware of Jeff. Jeff writes a page 2 piece called Top of the Mornin' in the sports section. And Jeff is really, really full of himself. Let's get a quick overview of how much Jeff is full of himself:

1) Jeff's byline is actually Jeffrey Flanagan. Not Jeff, or Jef, or Neat Guy. Jeffrey. Now, there are plenty of politicians and other self-important people who don't contract their names because it makes them sound like they're 12. But sports writers? C'mon, Jeff, get over yourself. You argue that people need to let go of finger pointing at Mike Sweeney (we'll get there, I promise), and yet you have the audacity to write a wittily-named reference column to the Irish with your full first name. I think there's a Saturday Night Live sketch in here somewhere. Get over yourself.

2) Jeff got into a publicized spat (in his own column, no less) with a local college athlete over his salary a while ago. Jeff actually decided that this college athlete deserved to have his opinion publicized and criticized by Jeff in print. Jeff, no one gives a rat's ass what you make. And your spending 10 seconds of time to respond to Mr. Watson's criticism makes you look weaker than your journalistic skills. Get over yourself.

3) Jeff is willing to shill for professional athletes and their wives who buy into franchises. Translation: Jeff is not a journalist, but a publicity whore who, given the proper opportunity, neglect hard-working Americans without hundreds of thousands of dollars in the bank to shill for you, the professional (or ex-) athlete so you can make up for the rest of us who battle daily to survive with our franchises, most of whom had to mortgage their lives away to buy into. Thanks, Jeff. More coming on this topic.

Got enough overview of Jeff's ego yet?

No?

Then how about today's column? Let's take a look.

Today's Top of the Mornin' column had three great areas for analysis: the Royals' Player and Pitcher of the Year awards, Meal Makers, and Kareem Rush.

Nobody outside Kansas City gives a damn about the Royals (and most Kansas Citians don't now that the Chiefs have kicked off, too). But Jeff has his vote for Royals' Player and Pitcher of the Year. For the Player, Jeff argues that it's a "two man race" and that's between Mike Sweeney and David DeJesus. Jeff eliminates Emil Brown (Kansas City lets out a collective, "Who?") by noting that he's a "4th outfielder somewhere else", and thus not eligible. Hmm, because Emil's not good enough to be an every day outfielder somewhere else, he's eliminated from contention. That's good logic. If Jeff had said that Emil is an okay hitter who's been productive but can't field his position worth a crap, I'd be more likely to agree since Emil's made 13 errors in the outfield this year and basically looks like he's playing in a blindfold. But Jeff eliminates Emil because he's not good enough to start anywhere else. Is this how we pick Players of the Year?

Jeff notes that Mike Sweeney is the best hitter on the team. True. He also dismisses the "finger pointing" and reputation that Mike's rightfully earned for himself of being 1) a pansy and 2) a clubhouse Bible-beating cancer. Mike Sweeney is probably the nicest guy on the planet. Sure seems nice in those TV interviews. Heck, he's the captain of the team, for crying out loud. But Mike also is injured a lot. A lot. Enough so that a lot of folks I know have lost confidence in the man. This is also the same nice fella who, during the Royals latest extended losing streak of 19 games, noted that "God willing, we'll win." Everything after "God willing" is a paraphrase. I have a wake up call for Mike: If God cares about the Royals, or for any professional or amateur sports team, we're all in trouble. Do we not think God has more to worry about than sports? There was actually a report at the beginning of the year about how good Mike has become at having Bible study before the games, and the number of players who're now carrying Bibles around to events and in the clubhouse. Should the fans be concerned when it looks as though, as ex-skipper Tony Muser once rightly and angrily opined, the team needs to be less of a milk and cookies team and more of a vodka and water team?

If Jeff thinks I'm just an anti-religion guy, he's off base. But religion should play no role in sports. God does not choose sides in sports, stop losing streaks, or let guys bat .300. That kind of selfish thinking is not my God. But it would explain why Hurricane Katrina wiped out the Gulf Coast. He must have been watching the Dodgers.

Mike Sweeney's a swell guy, I'm sure. And he's a candidate for Player of the Year on the Royals precisely because he's on the team. But so is Emil Brown. And so is David DeJesus. Just because DeJesus is currently on the disabled list, I believe Jeff has dismissed him. As far as I can tell, though, David's played in more games than Mike, 121 to 110, respectively. Sure, Mike's got some pop in his bat. But how can we hand out team awards by subtraction rather than accomplishment?

By the way, Pitcher of the Year? Mike MacDougal. Guess what? Someone must have written this part of the column for Jeff. Whoever did is exactly right. Not that anybody cared.

Here's what really boils my blood. In another segment of his column today Jeff notes that ex-Royal Shane Halter's wife Jennifer is opening a Meal Makers franchise in Overland Park, KS. First off, who is Shane Halter? And what did he or his wife Jennifer do for Royals baseball besides collect a few hundred grand and not make much of an impression? Second, what is Meal Makers? Well, Jeff explains that for us: Busy parents don't have time to cook anymore and Meal Makers invites them to their location to put together pre-cut and organized food into aluminum tubs that they can take home, freeze, and then cook when they have time. But guess what? Jeff does this by shilling directly for Meal Makers, a St. Louis-based company. Guess what? Kansas City and St. Louis don't like each other much. For example, when a vote in KC was required for raising the dollars via taxes for the new downtown complex that included the Sprint Center arena, St. Louis-based Enterprise Rent-a-Car pushed a campaign to kill it. Hard. They argued that because they would have to raise rental taxes it was an unfair burden on them. Uh-huh. St. Louis doesn't want competition for events and sports, and plenty was made of it, too. The measure passed. The Sprint Center is underway. Screw St. Louis is what Kansas City said.

Now, Jeff wants us to support a St. Louis-based franchise like this one? Here's where Jeff's lack of journalism skills becomes painfully evident. He does not mention that there are at least two other similar organizations in Kansas City already: Social Suppers and My Other Kitchen. As far as I can tell from my research, these two are not based in St. Louis and Social Suppers is a Kansas City-based, local organization. And they're viable substitutes for Meal Makers. And local. Give your money to them if you're going to use this type of service. Please. Let's make sure that Jeff's close friend Jennifer (wife of Shane Halter, ex-Royal of no regard) decides to find a Kansas City-based opportunity instead.

Last on this, do we really want Jeff telling us how ex-athletes and current athletes such as Shane (who?) and Jermaine Dye and Jeff Conine can simply write a check or tell their accountant where they want their millions invested to make more? Nope. Not me. I'd like to see Jeff rail on about athletes sending their money to the Gulf Coast like his cohort Joe Posnanski did a few days ago when he noted that Jose ("Serve 'em Up with a Smile") Lima got his latest $250,000 bonus for making his 28th start of the year. Jeff, next time you want to use your column for self-serving, direct address publication of a friend's new venture, remember to get the money up front. Oh, and make sure you donate it to the Red Cross relief fund.

Finally, Jeff wraps up with a gossip point. Jeff "hears" that Kareem Rush (a former local basketball player with the Lakers) will be delivering supplies to the devastated Gulf Coast region with a cavalcade of NBA players. He "hears" this? Or he knows this? Or this is so mind-boggingly inane that he added it because he needed to fill the final 30 words of his column? Jeff, we hardly thought your column as hard-hitting sports journalism to start with but I'd leave the People magazine stuff to them.

Of course, maybe you're simply trying to impress your next employer. God willing.

Minor Annoyances Alter 1 Million Run

Well, I'm gonna make it. Come hell or high water. Minor annoyances and pain won't stop me.

As of today I'm at 909,355, or 90,645 meters from the million by end of September.

I'm now working at 2 days on with 1 day off. I'll easily get there. I've no other travel to do. I'm getting between 20-25K each of those 2 days on, so I fully expect to finish off my first million in my allotted time.

I'll be glad to be done.

And ready to go for more a few days after.

People vs. Mein Kampf

People Magazine is ruining this country.

I'd rather my son read Mein Kampf than People Magazine.

People Magazine is a weekly. It has hundreds of pages, a majority of which are advertising. This means it's successful. Lots of people buy and subscribe. If not, People would have gone the way of The Industry Standard long ago (remember that one?).

People Magazine is very expensive, even to subscribers. Unlike car magazines like Automobile or even Auto Week, where annual subscriptions run in the single to double digits in dollars, People Magazine takes almost $200 out of your pocket each year for a subscription.

And here's the rub: People Magazine is taking time away from your life that you could spending with your children. I'm not going to defend car magazines any more than PM, but there's a difference between the two. People Magazine's core message is to share gossip and fact about celebrities. Car magazines explain in somewhat unintelligible technical or macho terms what cars do, how they operate, and which ones are good or bad. Basic difference: People Magazine is a waste of your personal time. Car magazines teach you something, can help you make a better buying decision, and generally are better written than People Magazine.

My initial post idea was to ask, "When did celebrities get so stupid?" I wrote that because I'd seen a headline on Fark.com that Kevin Federline said he'd like to name their child Vegas because they spent so much time in Vegas. When did this become news? When did the meaningless trivialities of "celebrities" outweigh the issues in our country? Who knew Cameron Diaz had such bad acne that was routinely covered with heavy makeup? Who in their right mind cares?

I know who cares. The readers of People Magazine. And I'm not lumping each and every one of those readers into the idiot pile. Just a bunch of them. These are the folks who think they're in dire need of a personality transplant, liposuction, or other life-changing reconstructive surgery because the profiles in People Magazine tell them so. Who knew Brad Pitt would be a multiple year winner as Sexiest Man? Boy, that was a surprise.

Folks, if you're reading People Magazine, I beg you to stop. I'd rather you spent that money on cigarettes and/or alcohol than People Magazine. People is as addictive as crack or trying not to look when passing an accident. Once you've picked it up, you can't put it down again. The pictures, the graphics, the hard hitting journalism on the backstage parties at the Oscars. It's all there in black and white filling your mailbox every week.

Why Mein Kampf? I'd rather my son be exposed to the concepts of a madman (and the consequences of reading and believing such writing) than be exposed to the drivel and dreck of a weekly publication with no redeeming value whatsoever. How many party conversations can you remember when someone wanted to debate the Jesse James-Sandra Bullock marriage? Mein Kampf is rarely a conversation starter, but the concepts presented within it can be. Look at it this way: Which discussion would you rather see your children in later in life? Or even at the dinner table with you?

All of the derivative, vapid People Magazine substitutes fall into this category, too. Stop reading them. They offer nothing that enriches your life. Here are some ideas as to things you could be doing instead of reading these publications, which, as I've said, are as likely to hook you into wasting your precious time as much as surfing the web for porn:

Catch a movie
Read a book
Play with your kids
Have stomach flu

These are all better than reading the waste of good paper that People Magazine is.

Why are these publications popular? Gossip columns have been around for a long time. As a matter of fact, they've existed since the first cave folk moved in close to one another. But they took off with the advent of 24-hour media coverage and publication capability. How do you think the Marilyn Monroe-JFK supposed relationship would have looked were it happening today? A lot like the Clinton-Lewinsky scandal? You're right. But in the early 60s we had no way of getting this information to everyone, all the time. The best we got was the weekly scandal sheet, probably posted in the newspaper and buried in the FYI section. This was, as my grandfather recalled, the section read only by women who were living vicariously through these gossipers and who spent as much time picking up the dirt around the neighborhood as they did around the house.

It's time we relegated this fascination to the back page, where it belongs. Our world is certainly screwed up, but when we devote more time and effort to learning about celebrity marriage break ups (Nick and Jessica?) as we do about a flood that ravages our deep South, we're all using this opportunity to escape from our own realities more than necessary.

But enough about that. I've got an October Automobile magazine just waiting for me. Came yesterday. So did my wife's People Magazine. Who's on the cover, I wonder?

Striking Distance

Today's update on meters to go for the million: 136,310 to go with 24 days left in the month.

Total meters completed is now 863,690. I can, if possible, get to the million by rowing 10,000 meters a day for another 13.7 days, or 13 full days and another 6310 meter day. The beauty of finishing this way is that I leave myself plenty of days of rest between rows, which is becoming more and more necessary. Little bits of pain and nagging injuries are rearing themselves over the last ten days, such as a slightly nagging left Achilles tendon, a leftover pain from my running days in my mid to late 20s, and a slightly arthritic feeling in my right hand ring and pinky fingers in the 2nd and 3rd knuckles.

Injury aside, this will get done. Not because if I really did hurt myself I'd stop, because I would. I'm no martyr, idiot, or masochist. These are simply annoyances that I've accounted for anyway, so why the heck would I stop now?

Just for fun I should invite the President to row with me. Since he's in such good shape, and with so much free time on his hands, I'm sure he wouldn't mind the distraction. I'd better tell him I won the Tour de France or something, though, otherwise I'm sure he wouldn't speak for me because I don't represent all other 38 year olds who are or are not using an indoor rowing machine for fitness.