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Gwyneth Paltrow, Tim McGraw | PG-13 | R |
We've seen this movie before, but that's not to say that we shouldn't see it again. Country Strong rehashes the troubled-singer plot with Paltrow as Kelly Canter, an alcoholic crooner caught between her manager-husband (McGraw), her rehab lover (Garrett Hedlund) and a "country Barbie" (Leighton Meester) dying to take her place. It's Walk the Line with a love rectangle, a twangy All 'bout Eve. But as familiar as the movie feels, the point is that it feels quite deeply. Writer-director Shana Feste finely calibrates the tension between her foursome, making Kelly's boozy tour less a star vehicle for Paltrow (who's never fully in control of her out-of-control character) than a fine ensemble piece. That's great for the rest of the cast, especially McGraw, who nicely settles into the husband's menace (or is that regret?). It's even good for Paltrow, who proves she can blend beautifully into a chorus.


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A.B. Miller outscored Juneau-Douglas by 14 points in the second half to capture the Capital City Classic boys basketball title on Saturday.
Sound off on the important issues at
The Rebels from Fontana, Calif., used their speed and long-range shooting to down the Crimson Bears 71-53.
"The thing we focus on is trusting each other and having faith in each other," A.B. Miller coach John Romagnoli said. "That's part of why we're here. We're not just here to compete, we're getting ready for our league. ... It's a very special group of players."
The Crimson Bears (2-1) trailed by nine in the third quarter before reserve guard Robert Beierly helped pick up his team.
The senior scored five straight points as JDHS crept within four points of the lead.
A.B. Miller's Corey Vigil, however, knocked down a 3-pointer as time expired to kill Juneau's momentum. Deondre Brodie opened the fourth quarter with another 3-point shot as the Rebels went on to open an insurmountable 20-point lead.
"I think we learned right off that we're not mentally tough enough yet," JDHS coach Steve Potter said. "I thought we made a good run to close out the third quarter and gave up that 3. Then they started the fourth quarter with another 3. That got them going again. We had the momentum and those two shots turned it right around and they outplayed us from then on out. It was pretty clear."
While A.B. Miller didn't have the height of Juneau-Douglas, the Rebels owned an advantage in speed.
From the beginning, A.B. Miller looked to run at every opportunity and score in transition. The Rebels swarmed the passing lanes and seized a 17-6 first-quarter lead.
"We're a fast-break team," A.B. Miller forward Mychael Hearn said. "That's what we practice. We're a run-and-gun team. We try to out-run zones or any type of press. We've really good guards so that's what we do."
In addition to trying to outrun Juneau, the Rebels immediately attacked 6-foot-9 center Will Egolf.
The senior picked up three fouls in the first 10 and half minutes of play and one more just moments into the second half. He eventually fouled out in the fourth quarter after scoring six points.
"Once we saw (Egolf) in foul trouble we just started taking it to him even more and tried to foul him out of the game," Hearn said. "With him out of the game it can make the game a whole lot easier."
With Egolf mired in foul trouble, Juneau's bench provided a spark.
Backup forward Sam Clark knocked down a 3-pointer and then dished to Clae Baker for a bucket to cut A.B. Miller's lead to 26-24 late in the second quarter.
Hearn stopped the bleeding for A.B. Miller by converting a no-look pass from point guard Josh Segovia to make the score 28-24 at halftime.
"I thought they did great when Will was out of the game," Potter said. "We're not Will and the Miracles. We're not as effective when he's not in there, but I thought we still played extremely hard."
Four A.B. Miller players scored in double figures as Jonathan Jury led all scorers with 15 points. Hearn added 13 points while Segovia and tournament MVP Zach von Pertz chipped in 12 points each in the win. Dominique Brinson led JDHS (2-1) with 13 points while Baker added 12 in defeat.
Porter Creek 53, NBC Thunder 50.
Sina Kazemi poured in a game-high 21 points to lead Porter Creek from Whitehorse, Yukon Territories to a victory over Northwest Basketball Camp Thunder from Spokane, Wash.
Tim Steele-Beaver added 11 points, Zack Carey and Sam Johnson scored nine each and Brandon Wilks hit two free throws for the Rams. Porter Creek took third place with the win.
Cody Shackett led NBC Thunder with 13 points. Willie Lopez had nine points, Dontae Davis added eight, Caleb Barsh and Sam Hatley scored seven each, Alex Lund added four and Bryce Schule scored two points for the Thunder.
A.B. Miller 71, JDHS 53
ABM (71) - Brown 3, Hearn 13, Brodie 9, Vigil 7, von Pertz 12, Segovia 12, Jury 15.
JDHS (53) - Brinson 13, Saldivar 3, Larson 2, Clark 5, Beierly 9, Cook 3, Baker 12, Egolf 6.
Porter Creek 53, NBC Thunder 50
NBC (50) - Lopez 9, Barsh 7, Schule 2, Lund 4, Hatley 7, Shackett 13, Davis 8.
PC (54) - Kazemi 21, Johnson 9, Wilks 2, Steele-Beaver 11, Carey 9.
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subset: commoncrawl


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CBD, World Future Council Formalize Cooperation Framework
12 December 2011: The Secretariat of the Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD) and the World Future Council signed a Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) on 12 December 2011, in Hamburg, Germany, in order to establish a framework of cooperation for promoting the implementation of the CBD and its Strategic Plan 2011-2020.
The MoU covers the ongoing cooperation of the two organizations in Future Policy Award events. These will be organized in conjunction with meetings of the CBD Conference of the Parties (COPs), where high-level representatives can participate and increase their mutual interests on the conservation and sustainable use of biological diversity.
In signing the MoU, CBD Executive Secretary Ahmed Djoghlaf said "it is important to identify and promote laws and policies that successfully protect, monitor and regulate biodiversity in order to support the implementation of the Convention by its Contracting Parties." The World Future Council informs and advises policy makers about best policies for a sustainable future and awards visionary policies with its annual Future Policy Award. [CBD/World Future Council Press Release]


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I am getting the below error when i run payroll by using WT5678 in IT0014. I am getting this error only if a particular WT is present in IT0008 otherwise I am not getting the error. If a different WT is there in IT0008 i dont have this problem. This is an urgent issue. Please help.
Division by zero not performed
Calculation rule Z123*1234 DIVID ANA ZERO= N ADDWT *
IT0008 and IT0007 entries are correct. No issues with these Infotypes
Edited by: kumar Rag on Aug 18, 2011 12:02 PM
Dear Kumar,
can u please elaborate the issue so that i cab try...
as you have given
I am getting this error only if a particular WT is present in IT0008 (what wage type here is it the same 5678 ?)
I am not getting the error.
If a different WT is there in IT0008( othere than 5678 !) i dont have this problem.
Division by zero not performed
Calculation rule Z123*1234 DIVID ANA ZERO= N ADDWT *
z123 is a pcr if i am not wrong ?
pleaese paste the rule here !
Edited by: 0mohammed1 on Aug 18, 2011 12:22 PM
Edited by: 0mohammed1 on Aug 18, 2011 12:27 PM
Hi Mohammed,
You are right, Z123 is the PCR. Below is the rule. Thanks for the prompt reply.
1234 GPPP Pension Wagebase
DIVID ANA Division amt/no/rate
ZERO= N AmtNumRteTime = 0
ADDWT * OT Output table
Edited by: kumar Rag on Aug 18, 2011 12:44 PM
Can you check your rule Z123 or may paste here for analysis
Please check PCR Z123,
and divided by ZERO is not possible so please change the same and check again.
The Issue in detail:
If i use WT5678 in IT0014 and if i have WT1212 in IT0008 i dont have this problem (I am not getting any error). If i have WT1313 in IT0008 and using WT5678 in IT0014 i am getting this error.
I have newly created WT5678.
For Few people we need to maintain WT1313 in IT0008.
Please let me know if any more clarification is required.
I think you should compare 1212 and 1313 because I think these wage types cause the problem. Because I think wage base is calculated in wage type 1212 but not in wage type 1313.
This may also cause because of the master data.
Normally IT0007 is saved before IT0008. But in some cases if IT0007 is saved after IT0008 and IT0008 saved without any record in IT0007, the field work hours/period in IT0008 is zero. Normally IT0007 creates the entry in IT0008 automatically after saving IT0007.
So you can check the work hours/period field in IT0008. Here in the field "work hours/period" value of "monthly working hours" in IT0007 must be recorded.
Can you check it?
Sorry about this comment I have not seen that you have written IT0007 and IT0008 are ok.
Edited by: Okan Caliskan on Sep 2, 2011 2:26 PM
Run a Payroll Simulation with Log for an employee with WT5678 in IT0014.
Double clik on PCR Z123 to see the value of WT 1234 in the Input Table (IT).
Since operation DIVID ANA should divide the Amount by the Number and write the result in the Amount field but gives the "Division by zero not performed" error, it would seem that your WT 1234 does not contain a Number.
Then, go back into your Log and try to find where WT 1234 is created, and where it is modified (if it is).
Sometimes, executing program RPDASC00 (through se38) with the detail of all schemas, rules and sub-rules will enable you to find all PCRs that impact a WT (such as WT 1234 or WT 5678).


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Ex Fire Union Administrator Arrested
Perez Accused of Tax Evasion and Misuse of Funds
News Release from Santa Barbara County Sheriff's Department:
Former Santa Barbara County Fire Department Employee Robert Perez was arrested August 30 following a four month investigation by the Santa Barbara County Sheriff's Office.
Perez, who is retired from the Santa Barbara County Fire Department, is charged with grand theft and filing false tax returns. Through arrangements with his attorney, Perez voluntarily turned himself in to the Sheriff's Office at 10:00 Friday morning and was subsequently arrested and booked at the Santa Barbara County Jail.
The alleged misappropriation of funds and tax evasion occurred during the time Perez held the position of Insurance Administrator with the Santa Barbara County Firefighter's Local 2046. The Firefighter's Union notified the Sheriff's Office regarding the alleged criminal activity in March of 2013 which prompted an investigation by the Sheriff's Office's Criminal Investigations Division.
Perez is being held at the Santa Barbara County Jail on $110,000 bail. The case has been handed over to the Santa Barbara County District Attorney's Office.


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DALLAS (AP) - They chugged water, munched energy bars and wondered when Game 1 would finish. The Anaheim Mighty Ducks and Dallas Stars began playing Thursday evening and still hadn't settled anything when Friday began.
About half the original crowd of 18,532 was still in the American Airlines Center and they were doing their best to stay fresh, too. So during their seventh intermission, they did the wave.
Finally, 48 seconds into a fifth overtime, Anaheim's Petr Sykora smashed the puck by the stick of Dallas goaltender Marty Turco, ending the fourth-longest game in NHL history and by far the longest for either franchise.
The 4-3 victory in the opener of their second-round series brought more relief than joy. Sykora was glad to know his personal scoring drought was over and that his next meal wasn't going to be another Power Bar.
"I couldn't take one more," Sykora said.
The eight-period marathon lasted 80 minutes, 48 seconds beyond regulation. It was the longest game since Philadelphia needed 92:01 extra to beat Pittsburgh 2-1 in a first-round game on May 4, 2000.
Dallas backup Ron Tugnutt was in goal for the Penguins that game, and he thought a lot about it while watching this one.
"In the sixth period, both teams within two minutes had outstanding chances to score. When they didn't, I said this was going eight periods for sure," he said. "You get to the point where you think they're never going to score and that we're going to be here until the morning."
They were.
Before the final period, the public-address announcer said, "Good morning, Stars fans" as the team took the ice. They went back to the locker room for good at 12:32 a.m. - 5 hours and 52 minutes after the puck first dropped and 3712 hours before the start of today's Game 2.
When it ended, weary fans were silent for few seconds, then they stood and applauded.
How even was it?
Anaheim won 79 faceoffs, Dallas 77.
Each team went 0-for-3 on power plays. The Mighty Ducks wasted a two-man advantage for 1:12, yet scored short-handed the first time the Stars had an extra skater. There was only one penalty in overtime, and that came during the first OT.
Turco faced 54 shots, and Anaheim's Jean-Sebastien Giguere saw 63. Turco was busiest in regulation, while Giguere was most active in the overtimes.
Rating the goalies like boxers, Turco won the first OT and Giguere took the second and third. The fourth was a draw as each made two superb stops in the final 1:45. Giguere was never near the puck in the brief final OT.
Anaheim appeared to have won it in the third OT, but a goal off the leg of Steve Thomas was disallowed because officials said the net came loose before the puck went in. It was decided by a video review that went all the way up to the league office in Toronto.
A few minutes later, the Mighty Ducks were saved when a shot by Stu Barnes hit the crossbar. Dallas fans were teased again in the fourth OT when a long shot from Philippe Boucher went in, but officials clearly already whistled offsides against the Stars.
Dallas defenseman Sergei Zubov was the iron man among skaters, going 63:51. Teammate Mike Modano led forwards at 55:29 and tied for the most shots in the game with seven. Anaheim's top warriors were defenseman Keith Carney (56:20) and forward Rob Niedermayer (53:01).
The least-used player was Stars forward David Oliver. He was out there only 3:50 through two overtimes, then returned in the third OT - only to leave a minute later with a serious shoulder injury.
By then, when everyone was fatigued and afraid of making the game-ending mistake, the action was practically in slow motion.
"The more you go into overtime, the easier it is for the goalies," said Giguere, who blew a two-goal lead in regulation.
For Anaheim, the victory continues a postseason run that's already been better than anything a Disney screenwriter might dream up.
It began with a triple-overtime victory against Detroit that led to a sweep of the second-seeded Red Wings, who also happened to be the defending Stanley Cup champions. Now the Mighty Ducks are 5-0 and have taken home-ice advantage from the top-seeded Stars.
"When you have 20 guys who believe in themselves, things like this will happen," Thomas said.
Coach Dave Tippett said he would remind them they lost the first-round opener to Edmonton and came back to win in six.
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About Transcendence {Our Mission}
Transcendence is an organization that runs toward the "fire" to help build communities, enable dreams of children and transform the lives of families. We focus on the "hotspots" to support programs that will create opportunities for, and enhance the lives of, children and their families who today are under-served. We collaborate with community based partners and provide financial support of programs with similar objectives. Learn More
Collaboration Corner
A Special Thank You To Our Newest Corporate PartnersPosted by transcendence | Published on August 1, 2013
We wanted to say a special thanks to all of the organizations that have demonstrated their commitment to our local inland communities by offering generous financial support for our upcoming projects. Thank you: Edison International, Microsoft, TIBCO software Inc., and The University of La Verne
What do we mean by running to the fire?Posted by transcendence | Published on April 4, 2013
Someone recently asked, "what do you mean when you say, Transcendence is an organization that runs to the fire?" This is a fantastic concept that was introduced to our organization by our former executive Director Rev La Quetta Bush Simmons. She fondly recounted the story of how her father, who happened to be a well known figure in the community here in Pomona, came home one evening to see that one of the houses in his neighborhood was on fire. While they could see people running from the flames, he did just the opposite and ran toward the burning building […]
Welcome to TranscendencePosted by Michael Lacy | Published on March 1, 2013
Welcome everyone to the launch of our new website. Transcendence is an organization started in 1986 by a dynamic woman named Earlene Thompson who worked for Lockhead Aircraft and was a foster parent. Her vision was to "pull weeds" out of the lives of children and make their tomorrows better than their yesterdays. Along with her husband, Willie, they appropriately called the organization Wilene's Regrowth Center. Our history of child advocacy involved group homes, foster care and mental health programs. To read more about our history please see the About page. Today Transcendence is an organization that runs the "fire" […]


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Nice posts, Thanks for following me.
Thanks for following me.
I like EyeWriter Article. Thanks for posting here.
Great instructable. Thanks for following.
Nice stuffs. Thanks for sharing.
Fantastic information .Keep posting like this. Great insructables.
hi. Regarding the eye writer, is it okay if i use it with LabVIEW?


text:
A finalist in the 14th Van Cliburn International Piano Competition will join the Youngstown Symphony Orchestra for its next concert, after which the orchestra will unveil a new "After Hours" series.
Fei-Fei Dong will perform the Grieg Piano Concerto. Born in Shenzhen, China, Dong began piano lessons at age 5. She gave her first recital at age 10 and made her orchestral debut three years later.
She has appeared with the Aspen Music Festival, Hong Kong, Juilliard, Shanxi and Shenzhen orchestras and performed at Alice Tully Hall, Warsaw Philharmonic Concert Hall and the Louvre Auditorium.
She currently lives in New York and is studying at the Juilliard School.
The orchestra, under the direction of Randall Craig Fleischer, also will play Mozart's "The Abduction from the Seraglio" and Brahm's Third Symphony.
The concert starts at 8 p.m. Saturday at Powers Auditorium, 260 W. Federal St., Youngstown. Tickets range from $40 to $55 and are available at the DeYor Performing Art Center box office and by calling 330-744-0264.
Following the concert will be the orchestra's new series, called "After Hours," which is designed to strength the orchestra's relationship with the community and to further acquaint downtown visitors with the DeYor Performing Arts Center as an entertainment destination.
Musicians from the orchestra will perform in a cabaret setting in the lobby of Overture, which will feature a special menu created by executive chef Jeffrey Chrystal.
The music will start around 10 p.m. will feature Mozart chamber music. There is no cover charge.


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News Release - Backgrounder
Biography: Marilou McPhedran
Born and raised in rural Manitoba, called to the Bar of Ontario, the youngest lawyer to be named a Member of the Order of Canada (in 1985) in recognition of her co-leadership in the successful campaign for stronger gender equality protections in the Canadian constitution, Marilou McPhedran has specialized in starting, fundraising, designing, managing and sustaining mechanisms to promote equality and diversity for Canadian and international clients, having co-founded several internationally recognized non-profit systemic change organizations, such as LEAF the Womens Legal Education and Action Fund, which has conducted constitutional equality test cases and interventions for more than 20 years; METRAC the Metropolitan Action Committee on Violence Against Women and Children; and the always open Gerstein Crisis Centre for homeless discharged psychiatric patients. She is a pioneer in research and advocacy to counter human rights violations through systemic reform in law, medicine, education, government. She founded the International Womens Rights Project based on two of her intergenerational models: evidence based advocacy and lived rights. As chief executive officer of a federal center of excellence for womens health, she directed staff and programs including a cyber research network; she has chaired two public inquiries into the sexual abuse of patients; and she has co-investigated and co-authored social justice research, including: the ten country pilot study to assess impact of the UN Convention on the Elimination of all forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW) completed in 2000; What about accountability to the patient? published in 2001; the National Study on Rural, Remote and Northern Womens Health in Canada, completed in 2003; and the textbook, Preventing Sexual Abuse: a Legal Guide for Health Care Professionals published in 2004.
Marilou McPhedran holds a Masters in Law in Comparative Constitutional Law (2004) from Osgoode Hall Law School, York University. In 2003, she was the recipient of the Governor Generals Persons Case Medal the highest civic award for women in Canada.
In 2002 she was awarded the Queens Jubilee Medal; and in 2001, she was named as one of Canadas ten most influential womens rights advocates in Homemakers Magazine. In 1993 she was named Woman of the Year by BNai Brith Women, and in 1992 she was awarded an Honorary Doctorate of Laws by the University of Winnipeg; in 1985 she was named to the Order of Canada by the Government of Canada.


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Seeds of Promise?
Peggy Lemaux and Bob Buchanan think their technology could helpif only the FDA approved. Using genetic engineering techniques developed through their work in the Department of Plant and Microbial Biology (PMB), the pair devised a method to overexpress individual proteins within the grains of cereal crops such as wheat, barley, and sorghum. When California biotech company Ventria Bioscience caught wind of their innovation in the late 1990s, it immediately saw the potential.
Using Lemaux and Buchanans platform, Ventria found a way to use rice crops to produce two proteins, lactoferrin and lysozyme, which occur naturally in breast milk and have been shown to provide a range of health benefits for young children. The genetically engineered rice plants (also known as genetically modified organisms, or GMOs) produce a rice grain containing large amounts of the proteins, which are then extracted, purified, and used to formulate a preparation that improves the sort of anti-diarrheal rehydration solutions already consumed by half the worlds children.
In a 2007 study involving 140 children in a Peruvian hospital, researchers from Ventria and the University of California, Davis, found that the treatment not only reduced the duration of diarrhea in afflicted children by nearly 30 percent, but also lessened the diarrheas severity and the number of recurring episodes. In a related study at Johns Hopkins, the preparation dramatically enhanced recovery from diarrhea in adults, a common ailment among hospital patients taking antibiotics. Although not tested, these results seem to indicate that the rice product could alleviate some of the effects of choleraa worldwide scourge that in recent months has taken thousands of lives in Haiti.
In 2004 Ventrias product received the Generally Recognized As Safe label from an international panel of academic experts who specialize in pediatrics, immunology, and allergies. The product was quickly submitted to the FDA for approval as a food supplement, which would enable it to be brought to market. The company expected to receive approval in six months to a year. Instead, all it heard was silence. Concerned that their documentation may have been too broad, Ventria scientists modified the notification to target pediatrics, and resubmitted it in 2007. But three more years passed without a response, and in March of 2010, Ventria withdrew its notification a second time, not knowing where to turn next. Were sort of stuck in limbo right now, said Scott Deeter, the companys president and CEO. The potential and the benefits are so enormous. Its hard to give up on it.
There are risks on both sides. In this situation there are risks if you dont do it. The suffering of a lot of people might be spared, said Lemaux.
Meanwhile, Lemaux and Buchanan feel that a golden opportunity to potentially help save countless lives is being missed. The FDA has not told Ventria why it refused to review its oral rehydration solution, but the Berkeley researchers believe they know why: there is a hesitancy to approve products from genetically modified organisms. Its simply the GMO issue, said Lemaux, a PMB Cooperative Extension Specialist, who has researched genetic engineering at UC Berkeley since 1991. Thats what the concern is here. They have to be much more cautious than they are with other food supplements.
As Lemaux sees it, the root cause is that the FDA isnt sure how to move forward in this situation. Certain food-safety and environmental groups have launched high-profile campaigns against GMOs, emphasizing potential biological and environmental impacts. As a result, Lemaux argues, regulatory agencies are likely wary of approving such products.
If you could do this without genetic engineering, there wouldnt be nearly as many concerns, she said. People want to talk about risks. But there are risks on both sides. In this situation there are risks if you dont do it. The suffering of a lot of people might be spared.
Working in the Heart of Controversy
Controversy and innovative science have gone hand-in-hand since the days of the sun circling a flat Earth. More recently, embryonic stem-cell research has kindled ethical quarrels yet to be resolved. Looking forward, robotics and nanotechnology could well be the stem cells and genetic engineering of the future. All hold the potential to both solve and cause problems, and our society appears divided on whether or not to embrace them. As these tensions play out, significant breakthroughs are sometimes lost in the shuffle.
Disagreements over controversial science often boil down to differing perspectives on calculations of risks and rewards. Proponents stress a particular reward, or the cost of inaction. Opponents may concentrate on related risks, or employ the precautionary principle to place burdens of proof on those taking action. One can almost see the scales swaying.
The GMO issue is much broader than biopharming, the term used to describe the production of pharmaceutical agents through crops, such as in Ventrias work with rice plants. Within the United States, hotly contested debates surrounding genetically engineered salmon, alfalfa, corn, and other organisms have also brought an ideological divide to light. The same divisions are evident at the university level, and even within the College of Natural Resources. Miguel Altieri, a professor of environmental science, policy, and management (ESPM), is a staunch opponent of the genetic engineering of crops, having written numerous papers criticizing biotechnology. As an alternative to genetically engineered crops, Altieri focuses on developing methods that employ biodiversity and traditional farming practice to sustainably boost food production.
ESPM professor emeritus Andrew Gutierrez is another skeptic. He says the scientific testing that goes into many GMOs prior to production is of dubious quality, making it difficult to foresee environmental risks related to cross-contamination and effects on other species. Its not a system I would trust, he said.
The result is a scenario in which scientists often find themselves pitted on one side or the other of the GMO debate. Theres very little meeting of the minds, which is unfortunate, said Lemaux. But in the end, she adds, this may be no cause for despair: Thats the nice thing about being at a universityyou can pursue your own ideas, even if they dont match with what other people are doing.
Buchanan, PMB professor and CNRs Executive Associate Dean of Research and Extension, who has been at UC Berkeley since the early 1960s, puts the disagreement more succinctly: Its just different philosophies.
Improving the "Staff of Life"
While both Lemaux and Buchanan say theyre disappointed that the diarrheal treatment has yet to see the light of day, its not their only source of frustration. Some of their other discoveries have stalled at even earlier stages. In 1997 they used their protein-expression technique to begin creation of a wheat variety that was less allergenic, but they failed to find a partner to further develop it. However, this research led not only to the pairs interactions with Ventria, but also to a further innovation they believe could have a huge impact on worldwide food production. A group of Chinese researchers learned about the pairs work and figured out a way to apply some of the same genetic solutions to a significant problem facing farmers in China and around the world: pre-harvest sprouting in white wheat.
The problem occurs when seeds sprout before the plant is ready for harvest, often triggered by rain and high humidity. As much as 20 percent of Chinas wheat is lost to pre-harvest sprouting each year. Yet a field test of genetically modified white wheat that resists pre-harvest sprouting was planted in 2007 by researchers from Henan Agricultural University and they are currently growing the fourth generation with no reduced yield, Buchanan said.
Now the Berkeley researchers hope to apply the same approach to wheat that is of value to the United States, where pre-harvest sprouting in white wheat results in millions of dollars of losses every year. Not only would the change result in significant savings, but it would also allow many growers to switch from red wheat to white wheat, which has more nutrients and fiber. A Montana-based wheat-breeding company initially expressed interest, Lemaux said, but it was recently bought by a larger corporation that has not expressed interest in pursuing the approach.
Lemaux isnt giving up. Shes actively seeking grants and partnerships that may help support implementation of modified white wheat in the U.S. Upcoming meetings on pre-harvest sprouting in Brazil and Canada, where she will present this work, may help attract some interestand, ultimately, funding. Still, all the obstacles have taken a toll. I pick my projects carefully, ones that I think would have some positive impact on agriculture if they were able to get out. The fact that none of them has made it is quite frustrating, she said.
I wish we could take the wheat work further, because I think theres a lot of promise there, echoed Buchanan. It could change the way wheats grown, and the kind of wheat we grow.
The Cautionary Principle
Lemaux chalks up some of the challenges with modified wheat in the United States to nervousness about genetically engineering whats known as the staff of life. But many critics and fellow researchers have expressed practical concerns, perhaps the largest of which is the cross-pollination that can occur when genes from genetically engineered crops mingle with those of non-engineered crops or organic crops.
"There are a million things you can do with the technology, and some of them are going to be really good, some of them are going to be frivolous, and some are going to be harmful. You can't lump them all together and say 'I am for it or against it,'" said Marvier.
Santa Clara University professor Michelle Marvier, who specializes in risk assessment of genetically modified plants, views gene flowknown as out-crossingas an inescapable byproduct of genetic engineering. Its going to happen, she said. They have no success to date at keeping any genetically modified crop contained. Theres a huge list of examples of genetically modified genes getting out of the lab before theyre even released.
While Marvier doesnt view out-crossing as an inherently bad thing, she says it can be highly problematic for some modifications. With herbicide tolerance, genes in food crops or grasses could spread to nearby plants and create so-called superweeds that are resistant to certain herbicides. Shes also wary of biopharming. While lactoferrin and lysozyme occur naturally in breast milk and are relatively benign, other proteins such as human growth hormone could pose serious problems if they were to make their way into the food system via GMOs, Marvier said.
Both rice and wheat are almost exclusively self-pollinating, dramatically reducing the chances of cross-pollination, Lemaux said. On top of that, most genetically engineered crops are planted a significant distance from non-engineered crops in order to further reduce the odds of gene movement. Lemaux agrees with Marvier that the risk of commingling is never nil; something as simple as a seed spilling off a truck could cause a variety to end up somewhere its not supposed to be. The debate returns again to the question of risk versus reward: what might happen if we act, and what will happen if we dont?
Tempting as it may be to dwell in the past, Lemaux and Buchanan keep their gazes fixed straight ahead. In recent years they used similar technology in a partnership that sought to increase the nutritional content of sorghum, an important food crop in Africa. The research received funding through both the U.S. Agency for International Development and the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundations Grand Challenges for Global Health. Theyve since passed their advances along to another partner in the project, a Johannesburg-based organization, and hope someday to see them implemented. Even in the absence of further funding, Lemaux and Buchanan continue to work on improving the nutritional qualities of sorghum, largely with undergraduate students in their Koshland Hall laboratories.
Motivated by a desire to make a lasting contribution to agriculture, Lemaux and Buchananwho both grew up on farms; he in Virginia, she in Ohiomaintain hope that someday beneficial GMOs will be widely accepted within the United States and around the world. Buchanan likens the gradual eroding of public opposition to waves wearing away at a rock: Itll happen, he said. Slowly, I guess, but its evolving in that direction. Itll happen.
He may be right, but Marvier stresses that opinions deserve to be nuanced. Theres a million things you can do with the technology, and some of them are going to be really good, some of them are going to be frivolous, and some are going to be harmful, she said. Its just case by case. You cant lump them all together and say Im for it or against it. Lemaux and Buchanan agree. The answers, it seems, are never easy.


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Teri SharpPublic Relations Manager419-255-8000 ext. email@example.com
Dale Chihuly (American, born 1941), Gold Over Turquoise-Blue Venetian #528. Glass, blown; gold leaf and tooled decoration, 1990. Study Gallery
The works of modern and contemporary glass in the Glass Pavilion Study Gallery span primarily from the 1960s to the present day.
In the United States during the mid-20th century, a key new development emerged: glassmaking in non-factory settings. Artists experimented with glass using so-called warm glassworking methods, by softening, shaping, and fusing glass in ceramic kilns. For American glass artists to make the leap from isolated glass experiments, three conditions had to coalesce: focused artistic activity on the part of glass artists; access to technical knowledge; and sustained validation of the work of glass artists by galleries, museums, and universities.
These conditions were made possible in 1962 with two experimental glassblowing workshop-seminars held on the grounds of the Toledo Museum of Art and since known as the Toledo Workshops. These workshops inspired a generation of artists to explore glass as a medium for artistic expression, giving birth to the American Studio Glass Movement. Studio glass is a dynamic art form that has grown and spread around the world, continually pushing the boundaries of what glass is and what it can do.


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News & Local Info
Mayo are through to the All-Ireland senior football semi-finals..
In yesterdays quarter-finals at Croke Park Mayo beat Cork 1-19 to 2-15.....
Cork Media Enterprises t/a Cork's 96FM
Registered Address: Broadcasting House, Wellington Road, Cork. VAT Number: IE 4883442V. Company Registration Number: 137313
Directors: D. Buckley (Chair), R. McManamy, N.McKeown (UK), K. McGeary, S. Barry.


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Santo's Spring Training Baseball Odyssey
First of all, my spring training tour consists of two legs. We have relatives in Port St. Lucie, the winter home of the Mets, and began our vacation Saturday morning. My itinerary showed that the Cards were in town. My awesome hotel room in the PGA village is no more than 1 mile away from the ballpark, and I figured on catching the Mets and the Cards during my brief stay.
No GO!!! For the life of me, my brother in law is a huge baseball fan and my nephew is a cocky, loud mouthed, capable version of Frank Merriwell... fast, strong and able to crank a baseball 350 feet at 15 years of age. But, to my utter astonishment, I learn that they have never so much as thought about enjoying the very thing that brought me some 1000 miles to Florida and cost me my entire tax return. The spring dream recurred every year, and yet they had never so much as attended a spring training game or even been to the complex.
Flying over Ft. Lauderdale, one is stunned by the number of baseball fields that pepper the city. It was dark of night when we landed there, and not only could you make out the fields but THEY WERE ALL LIGHTED! The apathy of my in-laws finally came into full view as flight 709 out of Atlanta descended. Yes, they are self absorbed an unimpressed with our heroes. But, the prevalence of baseball in Florida works to make them that way. I was frustrated as hell to find out we would be chasing Manatees and boat rides today instead of the Mets and Cards, but then again I understand that Pokey's favorite athlete is Alan Iverson and that Johnny Bench, given his druthers, might have been a pro golfer or country music singer instead of the greatest catcher who ever lived. Some of us are fans, and some are still "in it" I guess, and there is a lot of that kind of smugness and great amateur baseball going around in Florida 12 months a year.
Speaking of catchers, I wasn't going to let my wife and my brother in law's wife deprive me of at least some first impression of my first on site right of spring. I woke up around eight am after five hours of restless sleep and used my hour window to cruise down to Thomas White Stadium. Pulling into the lot, I saw an unimposing figure chatting with an Asian woman. The closer I got, the more I was able to identify the man as none other than Mike Piazza in his street clothes.
Now, I don't think Piazza is a great catcher. For instance, I don't think the mere fact that he catches poorly puts him on par with Johnny Bench. But, there is not a better right-handed hitter in baseball today. If I have never said so on this board (and technically I have never said ANYTHING on this new board) I have a tremendous amount of respect for the man and his ridiculously screwed up thing of beauty swing. Absolutely one of my favorite hitters in the last thirty years, sort of like Vlad Guerrero with his ability to crush baseballs in lieu of location or velocity.
Silly fool that I am from Ohio, I stopped my car twenty feet in front of Mike and the lady, got out of my car and pointed the camera in his direction. You should have seen the staff gawk at me as if I was a crazed stalker. I guess with a star of his magnitude, there is an understated nervousness whenever anything peculiar goes down, even during the casual atmosphere of spring training. I was slow in my approach, however, and missed the Pizza man just about entirely as he disappeared behind the gate. The picture was so bad it is not even included here.
Oh well. Felt weird about that, time to park and tool around the park a little. I only had about 15 minutes before wifey needed me back at the hotel with her orange juice and morning paper, so I had to utilize it judiciously.
Darryl Hamilton was taking batting practice on one side of the stadium. A group of blue-capped youngsters with their noses pressed against the fence didn't seem to be especially impressed, especially with Darryl topping the pedestrian offerings into the concrete and popping them into the screen with no crispness to speak of at this early hour.
I turned away from this scene quickly enough and listened in on an old timer holding court to several other old timers further on down the fence. I couldn't make out his take exactly and wasn't nearly as interested as his cronies, but distinctly heard the name of Ed Kranepool repeated several times.
With this murmur barely registering in my ear, I noticed a certain lefty taking to the practice field in front of me with a partner. I soon realized by his motion, even in casual toss, as that of Al Leiter, a REAL major league pitcher. I was curious enough about that to want to end around the opening at the end of the fence and get some pictures. But, some white haired guy in a truck headed me off and told me the area was restricted, and that I would have to wait until 10 am to get closer to the players.
10 am? There was no 10 am for me, just pontoon boats and manatees! I was nice about it, but suggested that I was just trying to get some shots of the hurler. But, he was just as kind about repeating his position and I respected that.
Nothing much left to do here but walk around to the other side of the stadium and try to explore the area where Piazza disappeared to. After all, maybe he was lingering around chatting up with someone else. He wasn't, but I did manage to walk up to the foul territory grass and get some decent pix of the park behind first base, kind of the vantage of a first base coach. When listening to ballgames on the radio, it is a point of view I often envision whenever Junior, Sosa, McGwire or Piazza launches one into the stratosphere. I once saw a guy on my sandlot team crush one over 400 feet from that coach's box, and have been enamored with it every since.
Wish I had more to report. I could go on and on about the killer seafood dinner I had at the Tiki bar at Fort Pierce, and how my 10 year old nephew can impersonate Richard Simmons to a riotous tee. But, I'll cut it short in the best interest of baseball.
Promise to have much more of interest to report next week, as I get down to bidness with our Reds in St. Petersburg and Sarasota.
In yesterday's report I detailed how frustrating it was to show up for spring training just to find out that an itinerary of activities unrelated to the game had been drafted for me on the very first day. Today, damnit, I had to take matters into my own hands.
I woke up to the telephone ringing, and sure enough it was my in-laws saying that they were "uncomfortable" making the trip to Jupiter to take in the Cards and Dodgers. This had been a sure deal the night before, but after sleeping on it they surmised that a delightful trip to the trinket stores in the strip mall was much more suited to my tastes. OH NO, BABY!!!! Not again. As diplomatically as I could put it, I told them that they could have wifey all day long but I wasn't taking it anymore. Gimme my nephew and we're off to the land of high strikes and half nekkid Florida honeys, and they agreed and told me I might be sorry to miss out on their stuff. Yeah, RIGHT!!!
The drive from PSL to Jupiter says 60 miles on mapquest, but I swear I chewed up that asphalt in thirty minutes. My nephew was hiked and kept tuning the radio over to all this Shaggy rap and Pink noise, but it all sounded like Mozart to me. The sun was shining, I was decked out in my cool Reds tank top and cap, my nephew actually engaged me in some thoughtful conversation about ballplayers he had heard of named Mantle and Mays who didn't even play on his sandlot team and all was well.
When we arrived at Roger Dean stadium, the home of both the Cards and Expos, the lot was nearly full. The Ticketmaster lady had told me that my drive would payoff in at least SRO tickets to the titanic struggle, but she should have just said that it was the only tix available over the phone. The ticket taker at the window tried to go through her obligatory routine of checking her dummy terminal for abandoned seats, but the guy before me struck out no more than three minutes before. "Just gimme the five dollar crap" I thought to myself. "We'll take the Standing room, please, and love it and thank and worship you, most merciful goddess" I essentially said.
The last time I had seen my nephew he was an annoying little snot who hated girls and thought everyone was stupid except for Deion Sanders and HHH. Things change rapidly, I and I gotta report that his pubescent obsession with all the gorgeous women he realized cohabited the planet with himself was the subplot of the day. The boy's eyes couldn't lay off the ladies all day long... And, OH MY GAWD, if you are the young blond who worked the beer stand we stopped at on our way to our er, um, standing spots you have no idea what that little flirtation you laid on him has done! This kid has an ego the size of Florida, and when you winked and promised him a free beer if he came back when the boss was away he became an instant adonis. From then on, women were staring at him while holding the hands of their boyfriends, wishing they could be with him and secretly plotting ways to marry him. "You know, uncle Phil, if my dad were here he would let me have a beer." He said.
"Yeah, and your mom would have his butt in a sling too." I replied.
All this talk. What about baseball? When we got our first glimpse of the field from down the left field line, Gary Sheffield was putting on a show in bp. Man, that guy can hit. Say what you will about him, he is one of the best clutch hitters in the game. Shef pounded about 6 long balls in one round, one glancing off the thatched roof of the building in left center field. We missed the Card's bp, so maybe the apathy of the Cardinal fans was due to something much more spectacular from a certain hulk of humanity who characitures James Hatfield from Metallica. Who knows, but my nephew and myself were sufficiently impressed by the clout clinic that Mr. Malcontent was conducting today (more about him later).
The cage came down and the Dodgers took infield. We moved around a lot throughout the day because we had no seats, and I made my way down behind home plate and took some pictures with my cheap aim and click camera. Don't get me wrong, I hate both of these clubs with a passion. But, hey, it's major league baseball and seeing the pristine white ball under a gleaming Florida sun on real grass and presented by the greatest athletes in the world as if on a sandlot field was a beautiful thing. Just playing fungo and in slow motion. I hope these images turn out well.
I was about five feet from Andy Ashby when he took the bullpen mound. The guy never cut loose the entire time. Watching the grimace on his face, and seeing the ball nestle into the glove of catcher's mitt without so much as a puff of sound, I was wondering what the hell was wrong with this guy. I was quite certain I could have stepped up to the plate and crushed a double off this scrub. Anyone that goes to Cinergy has noticed that the last few pitches that a starting pitcher during his warm ups pops the mitt so loudly that it can be heard in the red seats, but not this clown. He had to have a ragged arm, I just new it. It was only after the first pitch in the bottom half of the first inning to Cardinals leadoff hitter Placido Polanco that I realized even more of the difference between spring training and regular season. A perfect strike down the heart of the plate and just under the arm pits. POP! The sound was back!
Speaking of the high strike, I have never heard more discussion generated by an adjustment in the game since the implementation of the designated hitter. Absolutely everyone was talking about it. I met up with a Bosox fan at one point, and he was crying his eyes out about what the change does for the Yanks. Clemens, Mussina, El Duque... he just knew all these guys would see their era's drop by a full run per game. I reminded him that the rule also applied for Pedro and he just scoffed. "He doesn't need it" he said. He was a good fella who bought me a beer for holding his standing room spot while he visited the facilities. You don't meet Red Sox fans at Cinergy very often at all, and the history between the Reds and Sox is a great one (1975). I totally dealt with his conniption about the Yanks, but tried to throw him a line with the Pedro line. He was prolly dead on the money with that one. "Gimme two for these fellas from Cincy" he told the vendor, to which I had to reveal that the boy in the Cincy rep shirt was sixteen, from Port St. Lucie and a hopeless tattle tale (so much for "cool" uncle Phil). I'm sorry, I would have been disowned by his mama.
Speaking of the kid's Griffey shirt and my own Reds attire, we heard several loud mouths in the stands goad us. Apparently the Reds/Cards rivalry is starting to take on some legitimacy. It's the effect we wanted venturing into enemy territory, but for the most part the Cards fans are civil folks even when the kid is chanting "Ga-ry! Ga-ry!" when the hated Shef is coming to the plate. God, those Cards fans spewed reams of hatred at the anti-Mac. I am anxious to see how he fares with Reds fans knowing the intrigue that has been so popular on this board and throughout Redland.
For much of the game, I stayed within full view of the field. Occasionally, I stepped back to have a smoke, but I was there for the game and the warm sun and didn't have much use for the shade of the inside of the park. Nephew had an entirely different agenda after the first couple innings. He was off to the radar gun, returning for cameos occasionally to report that his was the prize fastball of the day at 74 mph. He never guessed his own speed, the criteria for winning a prize, but was totally satisfied with being the one raw talent in the crowd yet to catch the attention of a major league scout. When he ran out of money, he would come back and tell me that he had resumed his illicit affair with the cute, blond beer vendor. Man, she wanted him SOOOOO BADDD!!!! He asked me if I thought it was a good idea if he took off his shirt for his next visit so that she could see how "cut" he was, and I told him that Arnold Schwarzenegger is known to frequent this venue and that he might hold off on that until he hits the magical 450 pound mark with his bench presses.
Speaking of physical specimens, I only took about 15 pictures at the game. I mean, this ain't the Reds and we're on a budget. But, I must admit that I found myself clicking no less than five times when Big Mac took a cut. I used to laugh at the flashbulbs that went off when Macster was chasing the home run crown, but found myself falling into the same trap almost irresistibly. To get a shot of the behemoth just as the ball left his bat and launched into parts unknown would impress Ansel Adams and make me an artist worthy of his own gallery at the Contemporary arts center. I began to work around the park to get the best angles on each of his three ab's. How pathetic can a reasonable man become when in the presence of greatness?
Ok, the nitty gritty for those that want to know my impressions of the ballgame. The Dodgers won the ballgame 3-2 with four very effective innings by Andy Ashby. He scattered five hits, worked out of a bases loaded jam by inducing a double play ball in the third inning and totally redeemed himself in my mind after what was an underwhelming warm up. I was particular interested in Albert Pujols, the heir apparent to the unsettled third base situation for the Cards, when he came up in an rbi situation in the fifth inning. Ancient Jesse Orosco battled and defeated the phenom without giving up so much as a base, but even my nephew recognized how well Pujols battled during the at bat. Who knows if Pujols is a player, but he's as viable as Craig Paquette at this point.
Another lead in, and speaking of Paquette, he ripped a ball down the line so high that it cleared the foul pole by twenty feet. I didn't see a call by the umps and neither did Craig, which is why he rounded second and touched third with a look of bewilderment on his face. There were no conferences by the umps when the guy on third base sent him back to the plate. But, it was an obvious guffaw by the crew.
Matt Morris had a great curve ball today, indicating he may be ready to join the Card's rotation. I don't care for that at all. Morris is better and smarter than Dustin Hermanson and Andy Benes put together when he is healthy. I can't say that the zip on his fastball dazzled anybody, but he knows how to pitch.
Some guy named Karnuth took the mound after Morris and looked like my nephew plucked out of the speed gun line and expected to get major league hitters out. He was obviously scared you-know-what-less, but soon settled down to bring some pretty good heat. His line is terrible, but the kid was not an altogether disaster.
In conclusion, it was a fantastic day. We raided the Cardinal party and might have been the only Reds fans in the crowd, my nephew got to finally see a spring training game after years of oppression, I began working on a tan that I will be able to take back to my co-workers to prove that I didn't spend the entire time watching the Andy Griffith marathon in my hotel room, and....
Did I mention all the beautiful women? I love my wife dearly and don't consider myself any more distracted than the next guy. But being with my nephew as he weaved his awkward way towards manhood, all the while surrounded by the game that I idealize, brought out a lot of memories today. It's on to St. Petersburg and the Reds vs. Devil Rays tomorrow and I will make an assertive effort to narrow my impressions even more to the game and the club we are all concerned about. But, today was loads of fun in the sunshine state.
Man, I wish the club gave me more to work with today. I missed the television broadcast the other night, so it was my first time seeing the men in red this year and they seemed to be as hung over as I was. Three errors and horrendous pitching by a guy we desperately need when the Bell rings. On top of that, three measly hits through seven innings off the toils of Brian Rekar and others. Yech!
We woke up in Port St. Lucie around 7:30 am and my wife knows exactly what to say to try and throw me off schedule. Breakfast, and she doesn't mean an egg a-muffin. She means sit down, eggs over easy, hash browns burnt, and if it ain't right after five easy pieces of lean bacon the waitress can march back to the kitchen with that slop between her knees and re-do it her own self.
I played it out long enough that we were on interstate 70 without a detour, but she kept looking for a Bob Evans or something. Only, as luck would have it, there were no restaurants along the two-lane highway except for a greasy spoon called Mama's Place, a decisively unappetizing converted doublewide trailer. So, by the time we hit Arcadia the infamous sausage-egg-cheese biscuit was calling her name. We lost little time in the drive through, just enough to allow us to get to St. Pete for the Reds and Devil Rays, I guessed.
We hit Bradenton about 12:15. Wifey goes, "well, so much for baseball today, honey". She was accustomed to the unmotivated, lackadaisical husband she knows when we're not on vacation and wasn't prepared for my response that, oh yes, we're getting on over to Al Lang Field even if it's the fifth inning and the Sultan is predicting a hurricane. I owe a report to my buddies on Redszone tonight, and ain't no amount of unpacking and hunger pangs going to stop me.
And so, we get checked in quickly, grab some directions from the hotel clerk and make our way towards 275 faster than house keeping can steal your bags.
I must say, the west coast of Florida might be more beautiful than the east. We crossed something called the Sunshine Skyway Bridge, about ten miles of four lane highway seperating St. Pete's from Bradenton and featuring a 150 foot hump that reminded me of the Beast at King's Island. It was awesome and even shook wifey out of her doldrums for having missed the Grand Slam breakfast. At the Redszone message board my friend Creek14 later informed me that this was the very bridge that collapsed twenty one years ago when a freighter collided with one of it's supports and sent 32 bus passengers plunging to their deaths. I had to take that thing a couple more times before returning to the safety of Cincinnati, so I thanked him profusely for his timely history lesson .
After several wrong turns and a scary route through a pretty run down part of the city, we finally got to Al Lang Field and into the park during the bottom of the second inning. It was already two to nothing Rays, and Rob Bell was sweating more than most under an unseasonably hot sun.
Bell had great stuff today, except on only about every fourth pitch. He powdered Greg Vaughn with a fastball that detonated into Jason Larue's mitt on one pitch, then walked him on the next. The curveball was there on certain pitches and flat on others. Unfortunately, in baseball, they don't frame certain pitches for posterity and so on the whole he was as bad as his line would indicate. I still think Bell is going to be a good pitcher, an innings eater and a solid guy who will keep the club in games and notch wins, but when? Love that curveball, but the home run bug bit him again today in the first inning when the indomitable Randy Winn added Rob to his long list of conquests. People are starting to talk, and we need this young man to get untracked sooner than later. He's crucial.
Hector Mercado was much worse. Just look at his line. I liked Mercado last spring and he still has that good hop on his heater. But, he's not changing speeds and might not have the movement on his pitches to assume the lefty role in the bullpen and allow Dennys Reyes to enter the rotation. With all the wheeling and dealing Bowden does, you might think that he would look into a deal for just a lefty. I mean, why send Yarnall back to the junk yard so quick, anyway?
Of course, one of the only bright spots of the day was Jared Fernandez. Two and two thirds inning of stellar pitching. He is a classic junk baller, but no call to break out one of my pet peaves after what he did today (ok, maybe I will anyway. Real pitchers must be able to break a pane of glass, gadamnit! ). He reminded me a little of Rick Mahler with his delivery and approach, and though I know that "Junk Mail-er" earned some credibility in the show he could never pitch on my team with that sissi stuff. I would only learn later that Fernandez was a knuckleball pitcher, so maybe this assessment was pretty harsh.
Other positives:
Chris Sexton turned a beauty of a double play behind Fernandez in the fourth inning. I was at the Cleveland series before the all star break last year, and Sexton played such a deep and fearful second base that a couple Indians not named Lofton beat out routine grounders to his position. But, Sexton played a good second base today, no doubt.
Prime Time: I know he's a football player and Redstorm and others know how I feel about him sticking his nose into the grand game, but I marked out for Deion today simply because of how the fans reacted to one of our guys. Sort of like, I can talk about my sister's stinky underwear but you better watch it, buddy! Prime rose to the occasion with a clean single through the right side, on the first pitch of course. That was the closest thing to great I saw all day. Morris and Deion hit back to back singles and I was like, heeeeellll yeah! Those are my boys!
Al Lang field has some cheesy corporate name now, but honoring my commitment to disavowing any knowledge of baseball's actions it will always be Al Lang to me. There are cool murals inside the old park of Stan Musial, Duke Snyder and other greats of the game who had passed through these parts. I can't say that the place reeks of awesomeness or anything, but there is a certain antiquity to it. The biggest farce is that the cheapest seats in the house are the bench bleachers that begin half way up the upper tier. Because these are the only seats that get any shade. On a day like this one when everyone was frying, it is where throngs congregate to when the season ticket holders dispatch to their Lincolns and Benzers.
I spent the majority of the game on my feet, trying to find good angles for pictures of my beloved Reds. I got what I hope to be a good one of Gully looking straight at me with a wad of chaw in his cheek and a "what da F you lookin' at" expression on his face. Casey was the biggest star on the field for the good guys since Lark and Junior were left home alone, so I spent a number of shots trying to capture the essence of his Opie Cunningham charm.
Again, there were beautiful, tanned young ladies in the audience, but with my wife on hand I refrained from any pix of a perverted nature. I did manage to achieve a certain level of rebellion when more than one usher admonished me for standing in the aisles and obstructing the view of customers in good standing, or seating if you prefer to be literal.
One of these days I am going to be able to report to you guys an insightful, baseball oriented post that would do my friend Redstorm proud. A real work of art that will be worthy of the archiving TeamBoone speaks of, descriptions of an epic battle our beloved corp engages in and emerges the victor of. Until then, I am just having a blast and giving you my impressions of what it is like to be down here in heaven.
A short but sweet one today. My wife informed me a trip to something called "Jungle Gardens" in Sarasota had become her "whatever you want to do" thing, so I avoided Creek's highway nightmare for another day and headed south. She had to know what this meant. I explained to her that we needed to find out where Ed Smith Park was so that we wouldn't get lost trying to find it Wednesday night. She had already factored that in, she replied.
Ed Smith Park is probably the least spectacular of those I have seen so far, at least from the outside. Not garnished with swaying palm trees and the whole old tyme baseball facade... just bland concrete with a trace of Red and a good guy banner out front.
Even so, I was going to grab some pictures of the empty place. I parked next to a trash bin and strolled around the side of the park towards an open gate. Just then, a guy rushed out, slammed and locked it and ran back through the door from whence he came. Hmmm... had to be another opening somewhere...
Wifey noticed an older gentleman about a block down the street standing in front of a parking lot down the right field side. He was wearing one of those hideous white caps that Rob Dibble deemed more suited for UDF than baseball, and he was chatting with another fella in Reds garb. Approaching him, I put on my best middle American smile, nodded howdy do, and recieved one of the coldest glares I have seen since I was eight and my dad found out I was getting into his Playboy collection. I mean, this guy was no Cincy guy, but one of those natives who gets bent when you beat him in line to roast beef at the early bird special. Out of the corner of my eye, I just then saw the practice fields, and an army of Red men taking bp, tossing the ball around and going through drills. I looked back to Prince Charming and boldly asked, "Can I cut through here?"
"Read the sign" he quipped so cleverly. "Players Only" it read.
Pardon moi, ancient mariner, and I reminded myself not to defer the last scoop of instant mashed taters next time I caught his ilk at the Picadilly Cafeteria.
So, I drove around the corner and found the parking lot adjacent to the practice field and walked up to them as if I was just coming to pick up my nephew from t-ball practice or something. I was IN!
I don't think about my size much, but people have told me I'm kind of short. Standing around the players, I felt like Tattoo from Fantasy Island. These are big boys in, and almost in, the majors.
Of course, the club was in Dunedin to take on the Jays. But, I was delighted to find that many of our best prospects were involved in an intra-squad game on field one. Dean Sardhina was behind the plate, Austin Kearns was in right field, Ben Broussard and Adam Dunn (maybe the biggest giant in uniform) were getting their work in. Grant Jackson and Freddie Benevides were chatting it up behind the backstop about something I couldn't decipher try though I might, and Tim Naehring seemed to be in charge of the practice.
I asked my wife if I looked to be as spastic as I was feeling inside, and she told me that I seemed stoic and "cool" milling around with my camera, baggy shorts and crappy Reds hat with the swooshes on the side. My hat was an apparent failed project by some correspondence school graphics design student.
Just one side note: I have been looking for a custom Reds cap since I arrived in Florida. I couldn't find one today either, unless you consider swiping one off the head of a guy destined for A-ball a viable option. More about that later.
Anyway, my visit only lasted about twenty minutes. But, being down on those fields with the Red men has been the highlight of my trip so far. I stood behind the dugout and noticed that professional ballplayers engage in much of the same shenanigans that little leaguers do, especially when they are not in the game. Throwing dirt at each other then acting like noone chucked it, saying "nice rip" when a teammate drives a baseball into the gap and folding their arms an looking terribly po'd off at somebody for not seeing that they are obviously the most gifted athlete on the field.
While I was sewing my wild oats and grabbing an entire roll of film, wifey climbed atop the observation deck that sat squarely adjacent to the four practice fields and took a seat.
Naehring eventually peeled away from a discussion he was having with another coach and went up the steps of the deck. I watched him as he clearly flirted with my wife after reaching the top step and figured I had better get up there before I'm flying solo back to Cincy on Saturday.
On the deck, I had barely taken a couple of steps when the boss of the proceedings turned to us and said "Guys, I'm sorry. But, this is just for Reds people."
The thought occurred to me, "but, dude, I AM Reds people. Don't you read Redszone? I'm Santo baby, Ed, but you can call me Phil if you keep your filthy hands off my wife. Besides that, check out my cool hat. You guys should be wearing these." But, Tim was Cincy people and the old geezer at the gate could take some lessons in manners from him. So, a simple "yes sir" was my response and we descended the deck.
Later, Wifey imparted this pearl of wisdom she had ascertained from eavesdropping on Tim and the man in street clothes sitting next to him on the porch. "He said, 'the catching is a problem.'"
"What?!?!?!?!?!" I pried her. "Catching is a problem? I can't go back to Redszone with something like that. Sweetie, you gotta gimme more, we're putting together a journal here."
But, that was all she heard.
As we left the fields and headed for Jungle Gardens, a player was leaving the restroom we were passing. "Do you want to get a picture of that too?" She teased.
I laughed.
"But, I bet Junior's used that john."
Hmmm.... You know, she was right. I focused in on the rusty bathroom door and squeezed the trigger. If I ever post these pix on an html page, the caption for this one will be "Junior squatted here".
Lots of Images from This day! I was, needless to say, pathetic .
So goes the end of part one of my Odyssey. The reports are already written for the last three days of my dream vacation, it's just that the film hasn't been developed. For a teaser, I will tell you that a harry situation arose between myself and Reggie Jackson, I caught a manatee doing a burlesque show, I got to give out propers to a hall of famer and experienced an onslaught of baseball flashbacks that very nearly left me institutionalized. Being able to walk amonst the men in red at the practice fields might have been the highlight of Florida, but the last three days threatened to rival it consistently.
- Phil


text: home Cyclospora Infection - Treatment Please describe the treatment of your Cyclospora infection. Share your story with others: MedicineNet appreciates your comment. Your comment may be displayed on the site and will always be published anonymously. Enter your Comment Tell us a bit about your background to make your comments more useful to other MedicineNet users. (Optional) Screen Name: * Gender of Patient: Male Female Age Range of Patient: Choose One 0-2 3-6 7-12 13-18 19-24 25-34 35-44 45-54 55-64 65-74 75 or over I am a: Patient Caregiver * Screen Name will appear next to the published comment. Please do not include your full name or email address. By submitting your comment, and other materials (collectively referred to as a "Submission") to MedicineNet, you grant MedicineNet permission to use, copy, transmit, publish, display, edit and modify your Submission in connection with its Web site. MedicineNet will not pay you for your Submission. You represent that you have all rights necessary for MedicineNet to use your Submission as set forth above. Please keep these guidelines in mind when writing your comment: Please make sure you address the question asked. Due to the overwhelming number of comments received, not all comments will be published. When selecting comments to publish, our staff will choose those that are educational and complement the topic. Please try to stay on topic. Your comment may be edited. We would typically edit comments to make them clearer and more readable. We will remove personal information such as last names, email and web addresses, and other potentially harmful information. We will not notify you if your comment has been published. We suggest that you check back on the topic article regularly. We do not provide medical or healthcare advice, treatment, or diagnosis. Thank you for participating! I have read and agree to abide by the MedicineNet Terms and Conditions and the MedicineNet Privacy Policy (required). To prevent our systems from spam, please complete the following prior to submitting your comment. Please select the white circle: What is the treatment of Cyclospora infections?Cyclospora infection often goes away by itself, and mild or asymptomatic cases require no treatment. For those who require treatment, the best option is oral trimethoprim-sulfamethoxazole (TMP-SMX) (Bactrim, Septra) twice daily for seven to 10 days. For those who continue to have symptoms or have persistent oocysts on stool examination, another seven-day course is usually effective. For people with a sulfa allergy, there are few good options. There are reported cases where nitazoxanide (Alinia) twice daily was successful as an alternate therapy. One small study suggested that ciprofloxacin (Cipro, Cipro XR, ProQuin XR) twice daily for seven days is an option in adults. However, it has a higher failure rate compared to TMP-SMX. These medications are not approved for routine use in pregnancy. Pregnant women should check with their obstetrician (ob-gyn doctor) before taking any new prescription. Return to Cyclospora Infection (Cyclosporiasis) STAY INFORMED Get the latest health and medical information delivered direct to your inbox!


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U Promise Scholarship
FAQs for recipients
- What is the U Promise Scholarship?
- How many semesters will I be eligible to receive the U Promise Scholarship?
- Do outside/additional scholarships affect my U Promise amount?
- What if I take a leave of absence or learning abroad?
- Where can I go for more information?
1. What is the U Promise Scholarship?
The U Promise Scholarship has provided gift support to low and middle income University students since 2005. Students are automatically considered for these scholarships by completing the Free Application for Federal Student Aid (FAFSA). In 2009 the program was expanded to include all Minnesota-resident undergraduates with family incomes up to $100,000.
Awards for the academic year will range from $570 to $4,000, with higher awards directed to students with the greatest financial need. The amount of your award is based on your Expected Family Contribution (EFC) as determined by your FAFSA.
2. How many semesters will I be eligible to receive the U Promise Scholarship?
U Promise is awarded for fall and spring terms only—the program is not applicable to summer attendance.
Students who enter the University as new freshmen are eligible to receive the scholarship for a maximum of four years. Eligibility will expire four years from the date you entered the University—whether or not the award was used each year. Students who transfer are eligible to receive the scholarship for a maximum of two years after the date they entered the University.
3. Do outside/additional scholarships affect my U Promise amount?
After all other gift aid is applied, the U Promise Scholarship is designed to help fill the gap between your financial need and your cost of attendance. Additional scholarships may reduce the amount of need and the U Promise amount may decrease as a result.
4. What if I take a leave of absence or learning abroad?
You must continue to be enrolled for consecutive terms to maintain your full eligibility for the U Promise Scholarship.
In some situations, students approved for a leave of absence may receive the U Promise scholarship upon returning to the University, if their U Promise eligibility has not expired.
Students in a learning abroad program will typically stay enrolled in their University of Minnesota degree program during their studies overseas. In this case you will continue to be eligible for a U Promise Scholarship toward the cost of attendance as a University of Minnesota student. You may have additional expenses related to your learning abroad program which are not eligible for U Promise support.
Your eligibility to receive the U Promise Scholarship begins with the term you entered the University as an undergraduate degree-seeking student. Your eligibility will expire—whether or not the award was used each year. Eligibility expires four years after the entrance date for students entering the University as new freshmen; and two years after the entrance date for students who transfer to the University. This timeframe limitation means that taking a leave of absence will reduce your ability to benefit from the U Promise Scholarship.
5. Where can I go for more information?
Crookston: One Stop Student Services
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Twin Cities: One Stop Student Services
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1. Meta-Mannequin
One cloudy April Thursday, Connor finds himself between projects—restless, a little lonesome—and so he heads out to the mall to take his sister to lunch.
Yellow pine pollen coats his car; it seems to swirl in the air around him. Connor suffers a miserable sneezing fit. If it would rain, he thinks. Wash some of this stuff away. The mall is like a space station: artificial light, airlock double-doors, a hermetic climate-controlled atmosphere. Once inside, his mood starts to lighten.
He finds Terri in women's wear wrestling with a postmodern mannequin—a blank-faced chrome-plated android; she's trying to slither a blue silk dress down over this thing's big shiny bosoms. Connor slips up silently. He doesn't say hey or call her name. He just says, very softly, "There's something unspeakably erotic about watching your sister undress another woman," and Terri, without turning around or missing a beat, says softly, "First, I'm dressing, not undressing, and second, this is a dummy, not a woman, and third, you are a fucking pervert and if you don't get away from me this instant I'll page security."
Connor kisses the top of her head, smelling sandalwood and patchouli. "How come there's no arms?"
"They're on the floor, over there," Terri says, and Connor sees them now, two chrome arms sure enough, and he asks "What are they doing on the floor?" and Terri says "To get a tight dress on a mannequin you have to detach its arms and twist its head and put it through a bunch of contortions like a circus acrobat. It's harder than it looks, David. It's pretty physical. You have to struggle. You have to get personal." She works the dress down over the dummy's hips.
Connor notices that this is one of the new mannequins with nipples. Small hard metallic nipples plainly visible through the tight dress. He points this out to Terri.
"Damn it," she says. "I forgot the bra."
Connor is laughing.
"It's so freakin' weird," she says. "On the realistic ones, the pink or brown ones with faces, their titties are smooth as ping-pong balls. But on these metalheads, it's all artifice, not realism—except for that one little thing. Some pervert designer."
They stare at the offending nipples.
"Guess I'd better fix it," Terri says.
"Leave it," Connor says. "Let's go to lunch."
They stand in line at the S&K—Salisbury steak and beets and mashed potatoes for Connor; seven-bean salad and beets for Terri—and once they get settled at the table Connor says, "You know I've been working on that documentary about flood stories for the arts council? Interviewing people who lost their homes or their farms or stuff like that?" Terri nods. "Well, watching you dress that dummy reminded me of something. There was this kid with a canoe who was going around saving old ladies, ferrying people's possessions and rescuing cats and whatnot, and he's on the river at dusk on the second day when he sees a totally naked dead female body come floating around the bend, and he paddles over to it, full of trepidation, I imagine, being a mere sixteen-year-old boy, and he pulls the canoe alongside, and guess what it is instead of a dead body?"
"Bull," Terri says, mouth full of beans.
"I'm just telling you what he told me," Connor says.
"First of all, how did it get in the river," Terri asks, not even bothering to play along, "and second of all, those things are too damn heavy to float."
"Who knows how it got in the river?" Connor says. "There was every manner of thing in there. If you made a list of things that exist in the world, you'd have found two thirds of 'em in the river." Anyway, he continues, the boy hefts his new girlfriend into his canoe and off they float, meandering all night through the flood plain. Dawn finds them adrift in the estuary. Against his will, the kid is winched out of the water by a National Guard Sikorsky—the rescuer rescued—and from the doorway of the chopper he watches that naked mannequin shrink smaller and smaller as she heads out to sea in his old blue canoe. The End. "What do you think of that," Connor asks his sister.
"I think some people will believe anything whether it happened or not," she says. "Now if you dressed mannequins for a living, David, you'd soon get over these patriarchal notions about water nymphs and succubi and women as ornamentation, and find yourself a real girl with some brains in her head and settle down and get married."
"I don't want to get married," Connor says, "and you don't either. Nobody in their right mind would want to get married."
Terri crosses her eyes at him. "Pfffffff," she says.
"I don't see you out scouring the wilds for a fiancee."
"Let's face it," Terri says, "we're both fucked. Cynics, pessimists. Freak-ass products of a broken home."
Connor says he hates the phrase "broken home," but Terri just waves him off.
"I'll tell you a real mannequin story," she says, slicing her beets into baby bites. "This is like that woman on Oprah who had all those plastic surgeries and implants and hair extensions trying to look exactly like Barbie. Remember Kathi, from Cosmetics? that I tried to fix you up with?" Connor nods, mouth full of mashed potatoes. "Well, she's turning into a mannequin—I'm not kidding." There's a brand new mannequin, a real pretty one, in Petites, Terri says, and Kathi stands around admiring it for whole minutes at a time; she buys whatever outfit it's wearing that week; and when she thinks nobody is looking she cocks one hip and bends her elbow just so, mirroring the mannequin's pose. She even got the same haircut and dye job. "Which is idiotic," Terri says, "and do you know why?"
"Yes," Connor says, proud of himself for figuring it out, "because it's a wig and tomorrow morning you might put a totally different color and style wig on that mannequin and then where would Kathi be?"
Connor's only date with Kathi had been five weeks ago. She wore black jeans and a black button-up blouse—it was the only time he'd ever seen her out of her white Clinique smock, and oddly, he found he preferred the smock. She seemed distant and forlorn and a little desperate to him; they didn't really click, but that didn't prevent them from rolling around on her chintz sofa for a few hours, half-undressed under a moonlit window. Connor remembers her bare shoulders, her collarbones, her lips, her small breasts. But now, when he considers this flesh-and-blood woman obsessing over a plastic dummy—and okay, he thinks, this is weird, I admit—he has no desire to see Kathi, the meta-mannequin, but he's dying to see the mannequin itself. "Let's go by and sneak a peek at it," Connor says, but Terri looks at him like he's lost his mind. "What's wrong with you?" she says. "It's just a damn mannequin."
"Well," Connor says.
His sister is staring at him. Deflated, he takes up his spoon and gazes at his concave reflection in the dull metal. His face is distorted, monster-like.
"Freak-ass," Terri says.
Connor goes back to the mall later that afternoon, half an hour after Terri has clocked out. It's raining. Whirlpools of yellow pollen swirl down the parking lot storm drains. Slung under his windbreaker are a Nikon loaded with 400 ASA black & white and a Pentax with color slide film. He tilts his wet face up to the rain and breathes deeply.
Inside, he approaches obliquely: through Lingerie, retreating through Sportswear, meandering the aisle across from Cosmetics, all mirrors and glass counters, white-smocked makeup technicians. Kathi is not working, he notices, and then he sees the Petites mannequin: a small, graceful thing standing with hips slightly cocked, a distant look and a bit of a Mona Lisa smile. It's wearing a pair of white capri pants and a familiar black button-up blouse. Connor raises his Nikon, focuses and clicks. He gets off half a roll before a salesclerk asks him what he's doing.
"I'm a friend of Kathi's," Connor says, backing up and shooting.
"Kathi has the day off. Is there something I can help you with?"
Connor keeps shooting. He sees shots of mannequin faces enlarged two or three times life size, blown up so big and grainy that you can't tell them from real women. He sees pictures of piles of arms and legs and torsos. He sees himself in a canoe with his arms around a muddy mannequin, drifting out to sea. He imagines his photos framed in black, with wide white mats, hanging on a gallery wall.
"Sir. Is there something I can help you with?"
Connor keeps shooting his mannequin.
2. University Billiards
"I was new at this school," Connor said over his shoulder.
"I hear ya," Skeeter said.
"I didn't know many kids. Junior high school—ninth grade and never been kissed. A bit of a late bloomer. It was at opening night for the drama club play. Even then I was a behind the scenes kind of guy. I was working lights, running the sound board." He watched as Skeeter chalked his cue; blue dust drifted down on the worn green table. "The show was over and we were cleaning up, goofing off. The drama teacher had left early for the cast party and told me to lock up. I was sitting down cross-legged on the stage and this girl comes up, a girl I'd never seen before, and she sits right next to me and starts talking to me and next thing I know her head's in my lap and she's looking up at me smiling and I'm totally about to lose it."
"Was she cute?" Skeeter asks.
"Aww, man, she was cute as a little dollbaby," Connor told him, "curly hair and a little turned-up nose and dimples and she was wearing cutoff jeans and this halter-top thing with a bare midriff and I didn't know what to do at all; I mean I knew she wanted me to kiss her, that was pretty apparent, but my best friend was sweeping up downstage right—"
"Wait, what do you mean 'sweeping up'?"
"I mean literally," Connor said, "he had a push broom and was sweeping the stage and wasn't even trying to hide that he was watching us; I mean he was sweeping in circles and craning his neck and grinning this crazy grin at me, and there was somebody else offstage in the wings breaking down a set or something and it just wasn't much of a venue for a first kiss."
Skeet broke with a tremendous crack and balls scattered and caromed but nothing dropped; "Open table," he said, and Connor stepped up and bent down and sighted and lined up his shot, still talking: "So she was lying there looking up at me and smiling and I'm just looking down at her and continuing the conversation, something inane, teenaged babble, purple people eaters or something, man, and"—Connor knocked in the two ball—"eventually she had to reach up and put her hand on the back of my head and literally pull my face down on top of hers until we were looking cross-eyed at each other and laughing"—Connor sunk the six in the side and turned to the four—"and then we were kissing, right there on stage, and it went on and on and on, like a five minute lip-lock without coming up for air or anything." Connor sank the four and walked around the table and saw the he couldn't reach the one or the five but could bank the three in the corner, so he did, and then came back for the one in the side. Skeet said in a girly voice, "And you thought, So this is kissing."
"More like holy shit, Skeeter," Connor said, "especially the way she was rolling her head around in my lap," and Skeet gave a soft "Whoooohoo" and Connor just barely tapped the seven and it rolled and hung on the lip of the corner pocket and teetered and then fell, but he wasn't watching; he was already stalking around the table to line up the five. "Don't do this to me, Connor," Skeet said, "not again, man," but Connor just waved his cue toward the far pocket, a straight shot right down the rail, and popped it with backspin and rattled it home. "So then this girl gets up and flounces off, like all she wanted was one kiss and that was it, and she disappears and I don't even know her name." "Whaaaa?" Skeeter said, "man, you're shittin' me, you didn't get her name?" and Connor said "I told you, man, I was new in this school and didn't know these kids." He called his last shot, lining up the white ball and the black ball and patting the side pocket. It was a reasonably easy shot: cut the eightball, barely kiss it, he thought, and he pulled back his cue. The eight spun into the pocket and Connor started to turn away to tell Skeet "rack 'em," but then he saw the cue ball rolling still, rolling straight for the corner, and—shit—there it went: scratch. Connor laid his cue across the rails, put his face in both hands, and shook his head. "Heysu Cristo," he said.
"No help for the wicked," Skeet says. "Rack 'em up, my friend."
Connor started racking. It didn't take long since all the high balls were still on the table.
"That's a pretty good story, though," Skeeter said, rechalking his cue, "that first kiss story. Better than mine."
"That's not the whole story."
Two hours later he was at the cast party looking for this girl. Somehow she'd gotten away from him and he was almost wondering if he'd been dreaming. Then he saw her, standing all by herself across the room; she was wearing slacks and a long-sleeved cotton blouse with every button buttoned. Connor dropped all his cool and beelined to her. "This is the hard part to tell," he said. "I mean it's embarrassing. I stood there talking to this girl—a girl whose name I still didn't know—and she totally acted like she'd never seen me before. I couldn't figure it. I kept kind of sliding her sideways without really realizing it, kind of backing her up into a corner, and finally I said something a little pathetic and disappointed, something like 'You're not being as nice to me as you were earlier tonight,' and she said 'What are you talking about?' and, man—"
Skeeter was leaning on his cue waiting to break. He raised his eyebrows: go on.
"For the first time in my life I made a move. I just leaned down and kissed her. Talk about balls. She pulled back and she looked at me really weird and then she smiled and leaned back in and kissed me back, but not like before; it was like a deep kiss but quick, and then she said 'I'll be right back' and she slipped out the door and I didn't see her again that night."
Skeeter turned to the table and broke with a mighty crack. High balls dropped in three pockets. "Stripers," he said, and Connor watched him backpedal around the table, sussing out the lay. "You were new in the school," Skeet said. "That was a given."
Skeet leaned over the table and drew a bead on the eleven. "Twins," he guessed. "You kissed twins without knowing it."
The eleven bounced off the edge of the corner pocket. Connor wasn't watching. He'd just seen his father come in, holding the heavy plate glass door wide for one of his students, a girl named Tamara Fox. They bought a rack of balls and set up two tables down. His father nodded at Connor and Connor nodded at his father.
"Your shot, man," Skeet said.
He was not going to get hung up on this. It was the kind of weirdness he had grown used to and it only gave him pause a moment. He turned his back and did a half-orbit of the table. "What am I, low balls?"
"Solids. Yeah."
Connor missed a bank shot on the fourball.
"Mary and Marcie McGruder," he said, a little wistful. "Mary was the wild one. Dropped out pregnant in eleventh grade. Marcie was honor roll, student council, pre-med, all that stuff. I had no idea."
"Connor, this is why you're so fucked up about women, man," Skeet said. "Don't you see it? You got 'em both—the virgin and the slut, the yin and the yang, man—on the same day, both vibes coming out of identical packages. It confused you—gave you unreasonable expectations. How could any one woman compete?"
"That's pretty funny, Skeeter," Connor said.
"You know I'm just yanking your chain here." Skeet knocked in the twelve and turned toward the ten. "But I will say one thing, Connor. These girls were good luck for you, this Marcy and Mary. Ever since then you've had good luck with girls whose names start with M." Skeet glanced up and winked. "Marcy, Mary, Melissa, Melinda—"
"—Melinda? What Melinda?"
"Miranda, I mean; that girl with the blonde hair—"
"Oh, yeah—Miranda."
"—Michelle, two Michelles now that I think of it—damn, Connor, you don't need any more M's; you need to move on to some other letter of the damn alphabet."
Skeet stopped to watch Tamara Fox bend over the table in her tight bluejeans. Connor looked too and saw his stern father watching him. He didn't care. He was thinking Allison, Amanda . . . Ashley, Belinda, Caryl, Christine . . . Donna, Ellen, oh yeah, Candi . . . . F, who's F? F. . . F. . . F. . . .


text:
There is nobody that enjoys talking college basketball in late February than The Buckeye Battle Cry Radio Hour. Yesterday, we talked Ohio State basketball with tBBC Editor Ken Kohl.
Today, we bring you another great roundball discussion about ESPN and BTN College Basketball Analyst Jon Crispin.
Crispin, who has called a ton of basketball games this season for ESPN and BTN, stopped by to talk about the gut check time of the season, when teams either play their way in or out of the post season.
Some of the Topics we discussed include:
- The recent VCU/Richmond game that he broadcasted on Wednesday and the double overtime ending where fouling late in the game played a factor.
- The coaching, player and competitive parity of the Atlantic 10 conference and just how good some of the teams in the league really are.
- Who the Best Player Jon has seen play this season.
- Is there a matchup that could put some fear into Kentucky's dream of a National title.
- Where Gonzaga sits in the discussion of potential Number one seeds in the NCAA Tournament.
- How the B1G is the most competitive conference in the country.
- The latest talks of the B1G discussing freshman ineligibility.
And Crispin Basketball, the program that he and his brother have built up to help better the game of college basketball.
Plus, so much more.
As always, thanks for listening to The Buckeye Battle Cry Radio Hour. You can find us on iTunes, where we are always excited to hear your comments and feedback on the show. Feel free to rate and subscribe the show.
To listen to this week's show, click play below. To download the show directly, click here.
GO Buckeyes!


text:
The most interesting cars for sale at Pebble Beach
The classic car auctions around the Pebble Beach Concours d'Elegance have grown into a financial juggernaut, with some $325 million in vehicles expected to be sold over the next few days. While a few Ferraris grab most of the attention, there's a fascinating range of cars going under the gavel. Here's our pick of some favorites:


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Congratulations to the couple!
Congratulations to the couple!
You know, I've always wondered if stuff like this happens. I suppose so...anyway, congrats to them both!
What stuff?Originally Posted by Red Dog
Whether two partners in skating eventually decide to get hitched..Originally Posted by RealtorGal
well, they're certainly not the first! :sheesh:
with that said... CONGRATS JAMIE AND DAVID!!!!
Love it! and how apropo! A search for the kingom of sweets through boxes and then: An egagement ring in a the box of Nutcrackers. I can hear the tunes and on Christmas Day. I think it may set a trend. Valentine Day is next.
While I wish Jamie and David the best. IMHO it's time for them to get married. After all, they've been living together for a number of years. On the other hand, a lot of couples live together for years, sometimes decades, before getting married, and some never get married. David is divorced with no children from his first marriage.
OMG OMG!!!! i'M LIKE A HUGE FAN OF THEIRS! yAY FOR jamie and david! David's proposal was so cute! Omg i'm so happy for them and wish them all the love and happiness in their marriage.
Congrats to Jamie & David! I'm very happy for them!
bumping this up as we're getting multiple threads on the same subject
Thanks Toni, I was wondering what happened to my thread. I checked before I posted. NJSk8Fan and I must have been posting at the same time. Well, I can see who counts here.Originally Posted by Tonichelle
Dee, this had been moved to the second page, and had been posted a few days earlier...
your thread wasn't the only one that was repeating so I just bumped up the one that had already started a discussion.
They finally are getting married!
Welcome to the Forum, Butterfies. You are the first new member of 2005! Yay!!!! (No prize, but still Yay!!!)