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Joe DiMaggio: The Hero's Lifeby Richard Ben Cramer
No wonder we strove for more that sixty years to give Joe DiMaggio the hero'' life. Dimaggio was, at every turn, one man we could look at who made us feel good.
In the hard-knuckled thirties, he was the immigrants' boy who made it big-and spurred the New York Yankees to a new era of dynasty. As World War 2 loomed, Joltin' Joe became our poster boy for/p>
- Overview
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- Read an Excerpt
- What People Are Saying
- Meet the author
No wonder we strove for more that sixty years to give Joe DiMaggio the hero'' life. Dimaggio was, at every turn, one man we could look at who made us feel good.
In the hard-knuckled thirties, he was the immigrants' boy who made it big-and spurred the New York Yankees to a new era of dynasty. As World War 2 loomed, Joltin' Joe became our poster boy for American can-do, with his hitting streak of fifty-six straight-and the nation was literally singing his name. In postwar ease and plenty, he was our Broadway Joe, the icon of elegance and manly class…until he wooed and won, in Marilyn Monroe, the most beautiful girl that America could dream up. And even when he lost that girl for good, in1962 Joe was us at the start of our decade of national bereavement.
Joe Dimaggio was a mirror of our best self…and he was also the loneliest hero ever had. A nation of fans would give him anything…but what he wanted most was to hide the life he chose.
Editorial Reviews
New York Times
Don McLeese
National Review
Christian Science Monitor
New York Observer
Daniel Okrent Time Absolutely persuasive...Cramer is an all-star reporter....DiMaggio is rendered so vividly you almost want to look away.
Ken Garcia San Francisco Chronicle An often brilliant and deeply disturbing look into the rise of one of the country's modern-day giants.
Robert Lipsyte The New York Times The most absorbing and readable sports biography in recent memory.
Ken Garcia San Francisco Chronicle An often brilliant and deeply disturbing look into the rise of one of the country's modern-day giants.
Product Details
- 9780792724902
- Publisher:
- AudioGO
- Publication date:
- 07/28/2001
- Edition description:
- Unabridged
- Pages:
- 16
Read an Excerpt
Chapter 1
Joe DiMaggio sat on the tar of the playground, with his back against the wall on the Powell Street side, his legs cocked in front of him like a couple of pickets. At fifteen, Joe was mostly legs -- leg-bones, more like it -- and a head taller than his friends. It was Niggy Fo who gave him his nickname, Coscilunghi -- that meant "Long-legs" in Sicilian.
All the boys on the North Beach playground had names -- that meant you were in, you belonged there. There was Shabby Minafo and his brother, Bat (he only wanted to bat), and Hungry Geraldi (he could really eat); Friggles Tomei had those fancy feet at second base; Lodigiani they called Dempsey, because he once decked a guy in a fight; and Niggy, of course, got his name for his dark skin. They were always on the playground or on the street. Who had room at home? On this spring afternoon, in 1930, they were playing Piggy on a Bounce -- one guy with a bat, everyone else in the field, and one guy would hit till someone caught the ball, or caught it on one bounce, and then the batter had to take the field.
Joe was at the playground most days, too...but like today -- not exactly with them. He'd come out of his house, down the hill from Taylor Street -- but he'd sit apart, watching in silence, arms draped across his knees in a pose of solitary sufficiency. Or maybe it wasn't all pose. Joe was different from the other guys. They always wanted to play ball. They were desperate to play ball -- even if they could barely play. Joe could play. But you had to get him to play.
Bat Minafo and Frank Venezia always picked the teams. They were little guys, but pretty good players. They'd flip a coin, and whoever won would pick Joe. Guys would actually say, "Oh, you got Joe, you're gonna win." It wasn't just the way Joe could hit. (Even those mushy city-issue softballs, Joe could hammer them the length of the playground, a block and a half, into the swimming pool.)...But more than that, it was the way he was in a game. He had to win. That was the reason he'd play -- he wanted to win something. Sometimes, Bat and Frank would make everybody throw in a nickel or a dime, and they'd play winner-take-all. Then Joe would play, for sure. But playing just to play...well, mostly he'd sit.
In the long fingers of his right hand, he'd dangle a smoke in front of his shins -- if no one was looking. There were rules about smoking, but not for Joe. The playground assistant was a guy named Rizzo. He only had one arm, but he played a mean game of tennis. He'd throw that ball up, whip his racket around with the same hand, and bang -- the guy could murder the ball. No one but Joe could return his serve. So Rizzo let Joe smoke -- sort of a tip of the cap. Still, Joe was furtive, so no one would mooch. If he had a pack, he'd keep it in his sock. If anybody saw it, that pack was a goner. Mostly he'd roll his own. A pouch of Bull Durham cost the same five cents, but he could roll a hundred smokes. A nickel was something to hold on to in Joe's world.
At that Powell Street playground wall, he was at the center of everything he knew. There, arrayed in front of him, chasing that city softball, laughing at each other, tearing up their shoes on the tar, were the boys who were personages in his life -- apart from his family, it was almost everybody who mattered. That day, it was Niggy Fo, Shabby, Bat; there was Nig Marino watching from the side (Niggy was a fighter, not a ballplayer); big George Solari in the outfield; Hungry, Friggles, and Banchero in the infield; Ciccio LaRocca on the mound. And the batter was Frank Venezia, who was slapping line drives all over the lot (and laughing at Ciccio, who usually got him out with five pitches)...that was one reason Frank would remember the day -- he never thought he was that good with the bat.
They all lived within ten tight blocks. Joe knew their little brothers, who tagged along and tried to play. He knew their sisters, who played rotation basketball at the hoop past left center field. (Well, he knew the sisters by sight: Joe never said five words in a row to anybody's sister.) He knew all their houses, and who slept where. He knew their mothers, and where they shopped. He knew what their fathers fished.
On the left, past third base, was the boys' bathroom. Joe spent a lot of time in there, playing cards. Joe was good at cards. But that was like baseball: he wasn't just playing. Joe and Niggy Marino used to box the cards -- fix the deck -- or they'd play partners, and kick each other to signal for discards: five kicks meant to throw the five, two for the deuce, etc. By the time they finished, their legs were black-and-blue. But they went home with a few extra nickels -- money from the patsies. Poor Frank Venezia! He played all the time and never caught on they were cheating him. But that was Frank. He just thought he was lousy at cards.
Past the outfield, past the basketball and tennis courts and the open swimming pool, Columbus Avenue cut the playground off at an angle. Nothing was exactly square in North Beach -- a neighborhood of odd intersections and acute hillside corners -- because Columbus sliced through the street grid diagonally, from the office buildings downtown, north and west to Fisherman's Wharf. Columbus was the hub for Italian San Francisco, and the boys' window on the ways of the world. On Columbus, at the corner of the playground, they'd catch the F-car downtown -- Stockton Street, all the way to Market. After school, kids rode two for a nickel.
A block and a half up Columbus lay the expanse of Washington Square, the gran piazza, like a carpet of green spread in front of the great Sts. Peter and Paul's Church. The Italian Cathedral of the West was at that time only five years old -- Joe had seen the whole thing built. But its massive twin spires, the solemn gleam of the grand marble altar, even the bright modern classrooms for the School of Americanization, were designed to bear witness eternally to proud Italianità and the achievement of his parents' generation. On the grass in front of the church, the men of the community gathered every afternoon for coffee (maybe a little wine) and argument -- though Joe's dad seldom made an appearance. Giuseppe DiMaggio wasn't much for talk.
Near the church on Columbus stood the other institutions of the grown-up world: there was the Valente-Marini Funeral Home (you could pass from your christening at Sts. Peter and Paul's to a coffin -- hopefully not too fast, but all within a couple of blocks). Up the street, there was the community hall, Casa Fugazi, named for Commendatóre John F. Fugazi, a banker and one of the early Italian-American prominenti. At Columbus and Stockton stood the Bank of America, whose founder, A. P. Giannini, was most prominent of all prominenti. On Columbus, too, there was the library -- but no one Joe knew went to the library. The boys were more interested in other cultural sites on Columbus, like LaRocca's Corner, where the wiseguys played cards all day over cups of LaRocca's homemade wine. (Prohibition was an approximate science in North Beach, and Vince LaRocca, Ciccio's uncle, was "well connected.") And nearby were the nightclubs, the Lido Cafe and Bimbo's 365 Club, with their showgirls -- tall gorgeous girls, who'd come from all over...though not from North Beach. No Italian family had showgirls.
From Columbus came food for the neighborhood tables -- from Molinari's big new deli, and Caligari's bakery on Green, just off the Avenue. On Columbus at Green was the Buon Gusto Market, and off Columbus, on Powell, there was Celli's, where they made the best pasta and let you buy on credit. In Joe's crowd, there were months when everybody ate on credit -- say, before crab season began. Clothes, same way: without credit, you'd wear your big brothers' stuff forever. Every family ran a tab at Tragone's, on Columbus, for clothes and shoes. You could get the shoes cheaper at Gallenkamp's, on Kearny Street -- but that was all the way downtown. (And it was some kind of Kraut chain, strictly cash-and-carry.)
Three blocks west of the playground was Joe's first school, Hancock Elementary, just up the alley from his house. The school was built into a down-slope, so the recess yard in front of the school was a flat pad of concrete below street level. And a pathway, like a little bridge, led from the street to the school's main door. In that recess yard, the boys used to play a kind of baseball -- but with no bat: you'd just whack the ball with your hand and run like hell to first base, which was a basement doorway. Joe was the only boy who could smack the ball over the bridge. He had long arms and big hands he could swing like a hammer. That was his main distinction at Hancock. That and penmanship. One of the teachers, Mrs. Lieboldt, made her kids do every exercise in the workbook -- perfect round O's, straight lines crossing T's...then she gave out fancy certificates: "For acquired excellence in practical BUSINESS WRITING by study and practice from The Zaner Method of Arm Movement Writing. (The Zaner-Bloser Co., Columbus, Ohio)." It was the only school honor Joe ever won. (But everybody got one, even Niggy Marino -- and Niggy got thrown out of all his schools. Even the Ethan Allen School for tough kids, they threw him out.)
Joe's second school, two blocks east, was Francisco Junior High. Nobody made him do anything there. Joe and Frank Venezia used to sit in class like a couple of dummies -- they never kept up on the reading. The other kids gave all the answers. They just seemed smarter. Actually, Joe wasn't stupid. But he never wanted to open his mouth, say something wrong, and look stupid. That came from home. In the flat on Taylor Street, they talked Sicilian. Everybody laughed at Joe's lousy Sicilian. (Even his little brother, Dommie, made fun of him.) And shame was what Joe couldn't stand. He was a blusher. (That embarrassed him, too.) So, he just grew silent. His sisters talked about him behind his back: they thought he was "slow."...Anyway, Joe didn't have to talk at school. None of the teachers made him talk. They just moved him on, year after year. It was like no one even knew he was there.
Joe knew well enough to get along in his world. He knew how to strip the copper wire from dilapidated buildings and the lead from around the pipes. He could sell that stuff for four cents a pound any day. Of course, the way Joe was, he wanted six cents. There was a junk dealer who came up Columbus -- used to stop at the corner of the open field where the boys played hardball. They called it the Horses' Lot because the Golden State Dairy turned its horses loose there, afternoons and weekends, when they weren't out with the milk wagons. Where Columbus Avenue cut off the Horses' Lot (in left center field), there was a wall of billboards. That's where the junk man stopped to rest his horse. They called him Blue Wagon. "Four cent f'coppa..." Blue Wagon would say. Joe would mutter to his friends: "C'mon, Jew 'im down." (Of course, he meant Jew him up -- but that didn't sound right.) Sometimes, they could keep Blue arguing long enough to steal something off the back of his cart. Next day, they'd sell it back to him. Niggy Marino figured out how to wrap all the guys' wire together around a cobblestone -- and sell the whole bundle as copper.
Niggy was a leader. He could fight better than anyone -- and did: he had a bout almost every day. He'd take care of all the other guys' fights, too. Niggy led the raids when the grape trucks would rumble in. All the papas made wine in their basements, and the grapes arrived in big, rattling farm trucks -- tons at a time. When the trucks geared down for the hill in North Beach, Niggy would climb on the back, or he'd get Frank Venezia to run the truck down (Frank could run like a deer), and they'd throw grapes off to everybody else. Niggy had another trick when the pie truck showed up at the grocery. The driver knew the Dago kids would try to steal his pies. So he'd park where he could see his truck's back door while he was in the store. Niggy would saunter over to the truck, pull the back door open, take out a pie, and stand there, cool as an ice chip. Sure enough, here comes the pie man out of the grocery, screamin' bloody murder, and Niggy would take off. When he got around the corner with the pie man in pursuit, all the rest of the boys would step up to the truck and walk away with fifteen pies. They'd eat till they were sick and sell the rest, twenty-five cents apiece.
That sort of money could take them to the movies. Hell, the way they worked it, a dime took them all to the movies. One guy would buy a ticket at the Acme, or the Peni-a-cade -- those were the two cheapest theaters -- and then the guy who paid would fling open the back doors and everybody else got in free. (How's the usher supposed to catch fifteen guys?) It was movies that brought the roar of the Twenties to North Beach. Romance at the captain's table on some swank ocean liner, champagne socialites dancing in speakeasies -- the boys knew all that stuff from picture shows. When pictures started talking, in 1927, even North Beach was abuzz. But when The Jazz Singer finally arrived, they charged a quarter to see it. So Joe didn't go. Anyway, Joe didn't favor movies with a lot of guys in tuxedos, singing and dancing. He liked that desperate squadron of airmen in The Dawn Patrol...or tommy guns in the streets of Chicago -- Edward G. Robinson in Little Caesar...or maybe best of all, Gary Cooper, The Virginian -- or Johnny Mack Brown, the Alabama running back (hero of the Rose Bowl in 1926), who now bestrode the screen as Billy the Kid.
Outside the picture shows, it was like the boom of the Twenties never happened -- not in North Beach. In Joe's world, the papas still woke in the middle of the night and walked down the hill to the wharf and their boats. They'd be back in the afternoon, each with a catch to sell, with nets to fold, with maybe a secret paper sack (illegal striped bass, to carry home for supper). In Joe's world, meat was still for Sundays -- and Mondays, when the mamma made the leftover scraps into stew or soup.
Maybe Joe's house was poorer than most: nine kids, and a dad whose boat wasn't big enough for crabbing. But everybody had leftovers on Monday -- and the same pasta underneath. All the boys on that ballfield could trace their personal histories back to the rocky Sicilian coast -- to Sciacca, Porticello, Ísola delle Fémmine -- all the parents came from the same poor towns. Even in the present, on this vast new continent, the lives they made (and taught to their sons) had the clammy jumbled intimacy of the village. Take LaRocca's Corner, up on Columbus: the building was owned by an uncle of the pitcher, Ciccio LaRocca. But the apartment upstairs was the home of the batter, Frank Venezia (Vince LaRocca was his uncle, too). And now that Frank's dad had died (eating bad clams), Vince LaRocca was trying to marry Frank's mamma. This was a world folded in on itself.
And the future...well, that seemed just as contained -- and alarmingly close. With Frank's dad dead, Frank would have to go to work, for good. Niggy Marino's dad was sick: Niggy would have to take over the boat. Joe's older brothers Tom and Mike -- they already had to go fishing. No one ever saw them playing ball anymore.
Joe didn't want any part of a boat. He couldn't stand the sea, the smell of the fish. But even so, he would have bet five to one his future lay somewhere between that wall on Powell Street and the foot of Columbus -- Fisherman's Wharf. At that point, he couldn't see how he would ever escape his father's life, much less the world of North Beach. He barely left the neighborhood now. Why would he? Except when his mamma sent him off to buy meat -- that was cheaper over the hill, a half-mile away, in Chinatown. And afternoons he made the trip downtown to sell newspapers. That's how he brought money home -- and escaped having to help his dad unload and fold the nets on Fisherman's Wharf. That's why he was waiting at the playground, that afternoon. He and Frank Venezia would always share a nickel tram fare down to Market Street, to pick up their papers. They should have been on their way already. Joe never liked to wait. And if you showed up late, you could get screwed. They'd give half your papers to some other guy.
"Frank! Come on!" he yelled. "Are you comin' or not?"
But Frank was still batting -- Piggy on a Bounce. And he told Joe to cool his heels. Just a few minutes more...he was on a streak!
Joe sold The Call at Sutter and Sansome, near the Market Street trolleys. It was three cents for the paper and the kid who sold it got to keep a penny. On a good day, you'd come home with a buck and a half -- two bucks or more if the World Series was on or Lindbergh was flying. When Dempsey knocked out Firpo, you could sell 'em for a quarter -- people wanted the paper that bad. All the North Beach boys sold papers, if they didn't have some other job. Tony Santora worked at Hyde and Union, Shabby Minafo had the Standard Oil Building, Dario Lodigiani sold at Montgomery and Sutter, Frank Venezia was three blocks away at Battery and California. Joe had a good corner, banks on both sides and offices stacked on the floors above. By four p.m. there was a steady stream of businessmen heading home. They wanted papers. He didn't have to say a word. Joe's little brother, Dom, started hawking papers before he was ten (he took the corner right across from Joe) -- and even Dommie brought home more than a dollar a day.
The best spot was the safety zone where the Market Street trolleys stopped. That was Niggy's. Who was gonna fight him for it? In the safety zone, a guy would flip you a nickel, you'd hand him his paper and then dig around your pockets, like you had to hunt around for two pennies change. Half the time the guy's streetcar would come, and he'd say, "Forget it," and jump on his tram. Niggy was in tight with the wholesaler, Howie Holmes. One day, Howie told Niggy that some guy was giving his paperboys a hard time. So Niggy went and punched the guy out. After that, Howie would leave Niggy's papers in the safety zone. Nig could pick 'em up any time he wanted. Niggy made a lot of friends with his fists.
One afternoon, Niggy's little brother jumped on a streetcar to sell his last papers, but the conductor smacked him, and shooed him off the car. Joe got the number of the tram and told Niggy. The next time that car came through, Niggy jumped on, walked up to the conductor and hit him in the jaw with a straight right hand. The conductor went down -- change was rolling all over the car -- and Joe and Niggy took off, laughing. Joe still had papers to sell, but, for once, he didn't mind. "You hit him a pretty good shot," he said. Niggy nodded happily: "He won't hit no little kids anymore."
If Joe ever got in a beef, Niggy was there to take care of business. Not that it happened much: Joe never courted trouble with his mouth. And he wasn't the kind to push his way into someone else's fight. That was one thing the guys liked about Joe: he didn't try to be like anybody else. He didn't have to fight. That was fine for Nig. He didn't have to try to talk to girls. That was Ciccio's specialty. Joe was sufficient to Joe.
That's what Frank Venezia admired, why he liked to hang around with Joe. They were both quiet. But Joe was without need to talk. Joe was quiet at the bottom of himself. He had control. That's the way he was with a bat. Never eager, never jumping at the ball. He'd just stand there, while it came to him. Then he'd hit the tar out of it. That's the way he was about everything. If they had a good day selling papers -- they had enough to give to their mammas, and then some -- Frank would stop with the other guys at the U.S. Restaurant, on Columbus: fried ham on French bread, a big sandwich for a dime. But it wasn't really about the food. They were young, out at night, with money in their pockets -- how could they just go home?...But Joe would say, "You guys go on." And he'd be gone, with his dime still in his pocket. Joe always brought his paper money home. His parents were strict about that. But he always had some quarters, if he needed them, for cards. One time, Frank and Joe signed up for the Christmas Club at Bank of America. You'd put in fifty cents a week, and in December, you got a fortune -- twenty-five dollars. Frank gave up by summertime, took his money out, blew it that day on a new glove. But Joe kept going and got all the money. And that was his. Frank always figured that Joe's family didn't know about that twenty-five. The way Frank saw it, Joe was always a winner. And in his own eyes, Frank was always a loser.
Except today, with that bat in his hands, at Piggy on a Bounce. Frank hit for, musta been, forty-five minutes straight! It was like magic, like he could hit any pitch, any way, anywhere he chose. He could see the ball just sittin' there for him -- then he'd cream it. It was like he imagined Joe always felt....Jesus -- Joe!
Frank had forgotten about Joe sitting there. Frank turned around now. But Joe was gone.
That was the year they'd gotten so close. Frank and Joe had always been friends, but since that past September, they'd spent just about every day together. What happened was, they got to Galileo High School, and that's where their string ran out.
They were hopeless from the day they walked in the door. They'd sit in class, and it was like the rest of the kids had grown up in some other country. "Who knows this?" the teacher would say, and everybody else would stand up, waving their hands with the answer. Joe would look at Frank, Frank would look back at Joe: What the hell's going on here?
They'd never taken a book home. But they'd always got through with passing grades -- they made no trouble. The only thing they cared about was sports. But at Galileo, they didn't even get into gym class: they got put into ROTC, the fuckin' army class! As if Joe was gonna march around with a stick on his shoulder, like a stronzo. Forget it!
And then, Italian class! The teacher was Mr. Zuberti, a stuck-up Florentine or Genoese -- from up North somewhere, where they thought Sicilians were scum. He'd pick 'em out. Conjugate this verb! (What the hell's a verb?)...One morning, Zuberti threw Joe out of class. Joe didn't say a word. Just stood at his desk and walked out, while everybody stared at him. His face was burning red. Joe heard the giggles behind him, as Zuberti sang a little song, in Italian, to Frank: "Oh, YOU'LL be the next to go..."
And that was the end. Later that day, in Mrs. Cullen's English class, Joe was sitting next to Tony Santora, and he muttered: "I won't be here this afternoon."
"Why not, Joe?"
"My father comes in with the boat about one. If I don't help clean up, I don't eat tonight."
Of course, that was bullshit. Joe missed most days at Fisherman's Wharf. But this much was true: he didn't come back to school -- that day, the next day, or any day thereafter. Frank started playing hooky, too.
They had the same routine. They'd get up in the morning, get ready for school. They'd have some bread, milk with a little coffee, walk out the door and turn down the sidewalk toward Galileo High...then they'd wander off to the park.
They'd hang around Marina Park all morning, watching the older guys with their "tops" -- a monte game, where the aces and deuces show up, and you bet against the come. The older guys were always trying to take some young sucker for a buck or two. Joe and Frank would take lunch along, or figure out some way to eat. They could never go near the Wharf: someone would see. The playground was out: they'd be spotted for sure. Sometimes, they'd spend a nickel for the ferry and ride all the way across the Bay -- mostly in silence. They were just killing time, like a lot of guys. In that winter, the turn of the 1930s, a couple of young men with time on their hands was nothing to draw a stare. One day, outside the Simmons Bedding plant at Bay and Powell, Frank counted fifty men on the corner. Nobody had anywhere to go.
About three o'clock, Joe would have to check in at home. That was the rule in his family, and Joe obeyed rules. He'd bang the door like he was coming home from school, say hello, make sure no one knew anything. Frank had no one to check in with at home. He'd go to the playground, to see if he could get into a game for a while, before they had to go sell papers.
It went on for months -- Joe and Frank hanging out all day -- until Joe got caught: the school sent a letter home. Joe got a beating from his older brothers. And he was summoned to see the principal, Major Nourse. (No one knew why he was called Major, but the title fit him: he was discipline, first, last, and always.) Tom, the eldest DiMaggio brother, took Joe back to school. But when they got there, Major Nourse wasn't in.
They sat on chairs in the hallway. And they sat.
They sat an hour, an hour and a half. The chairs were hard. They sat.
Finally, Joe said, "Tom. They don't want me."
"Okay," Tom said. They got up and walked out. And that was the last day Joe went to high school.
He promised Tom he'd go to "continuation class" -- the school for dropouts. But Joe never went there either.
For a while, he hung around with Frank -- who was still on the loose -- the school never cared if he came back. But soon, Frank had to go to work. He hooked on -- as much as he could -- at Simmons Bedding, in the steel mill plant. He tied bed rails into bundles and loaded them onto trucks. That was five bucks a day.
Joe tried his hand as a workin' stiff, too. He worked a week or so for Pacific Box, stacking wooden crates, or bringing slats to the men at the nailing machines. The work was stupid, and the money wasn't great -- ten, twelve bucks a week. Joe moved on to the orange juice plant. But that was worse: up to your ass all day in sticky juice, with acid eating into the cuts on your hands. And for what? He didn't even make a full week there.
There wasn't anything that he wanted to do, except to have a few bucks in his pocket -- and avoid his father's boat. He went back to selling papers.
Frank thought maybe Joe could hook on at Simmons Bed. They had jobs there, if you knew someone. And they had a ball team. Maybe they could both play. He would have talked to Joe about it.
But they weren't talking.
After Frank made Joe wait for Piggy on a Bounce, Joe had to take the streetcar downtown -- on his own nickel. After that, Joe wouldn't talk to Frank for a year.
Excerpted by permission of Simon & Schuster, Inc. Copyright © 2000 by Richard Ben Cramer.
What People are Saying About This
Daniel Okrent Time Absolutely persuasive...Cramer is an all-star reporter....DiMaggio is rendered so vividly you almost want to look away.
Ken Garcia San Francisco Chronicle An often brilliant and deeply disturbing look into the rise of one of the country's modern-day giants.
Robert Lipsyte The New York Times The most absorbing and readable sports biography in recent memory.
Ken Garcia San Francisco Chronicle An often brilliant and deeply disturbing look into the rise of one of the country's modern-day giants.
Meet the Author
Richard Ben Cramer (1950-2013) won the Pulitzer Prize for Middle East reporting in 1979. His journalism has appeared in Time, Newsweek, The New York Times Magazine, Esquire, and Rolling Stone. He is the author of How Israel Lost: The Four Questions and the classic of modern American politics What It Takes: The Way to the White House.
Brief Biography
- Hometown:
- Maryland
- Date of Birth:
- June 20, 1950
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Somebody! (Anybody)! I'm begging you (Pleading, even) Tell me that Richard Ben (leave off the 'jamine') Cramer at some point (any point) stops with all the asides that are set off with parentheses. I'm about 100 pages (maybe 150) into the book and although the information is very interesting (I could almost say 'fascinating') the endless parentheses are infuriating. I'd like to ask the autrhor (and especially his editor) why they couldn't construct a sentence (or paragraph) that would negate (render unnecessary) the use of all the asides.
I can understand why DiMaggio did not want Cramer to write this book. I could not put this book down. If you do NOT really want to know the real DiMaggio this book is not for you.It starts off when he was a kid to the day he passed.
When I started reading this book, i was a little skeptical about whether or not i should continue. The beginning wasn't all about baseball, like I thought the whole book would have been. Then i realized that it was in fact a biography, and Joe DiMaggio wasn't a baseball player when he was five years old. This book talks about pretty much everything that Joe had been through in his life his first job, the first baseball team he was ever on, his first girlfriend. It even tells us about his best friends when he was a kid. Other then telling us about Joe DiMaggio and his life, I think Cramer was trying to get his own point across: Never give up. I think that one of the reasons Cramer mentioned such bad, and dark things that happened in DiMaggio¿s life is because he wants to show what Joe had to overcome. Joe never gave up, and he became one of the greatest baseball players to ever play the game. I like how Cramer went into detail about almost everything, such as describing Joe's childhood friends. At the same time, that was something i also dislike a little bit, because that took away from the baseball part of the book. The more Cramer went into detail about the non-baseball part of Joe's life, the more that took away from the baseball part. I would definitely recommend this book to anyone who is a baseball fan, even if that person knows nothing about Joe DiMaggio. Even if you are not a baseball fan, this book would still be good, but it would still be hard to understand what Cramer is talking about sometimes.
Though I am a huge Mets fan, I found this book to be a very interesting read into Joe DiMaggio the man, as well as Joe DiMaggio the Yankee. I especially enjoyed reading how the relationship between the Yankee organization and DiMaggio evolved throughout the years.
Yes, there are some references in this book that perhaps only fans of baseball can enjoy. However, overall, this book gives a detailed and deafeningly dark look at the life of one of the icons that everyone appreciated during his prime. If you have any inkling to learn about what the life of a star is like, I doubt you will find a better reference.
Richard Ben Cramer has written a very interesting and well-written biography about Joe DiMaggio that is hard to put down. Be warned, however, that much of what is written about DiMaggio will make you realize that he may not have been as deserving of the pedestal on which the American public allowed him to live his life. Rather, Cramer makes DiMaggio less of an icon and more like what the rest of us are -- mere mortals and very human. Cramer certainly gives DiMaggio his due as an outstanding baseball player and worthy of the legendary status he still holds. However, he does not mince words in describing DiMaggio's frailties as a husband and father as well as his self-centeredness and, oftentimes, selfishness as a friend and business associate. While DiMaggio has been loved and worshiped by millions of people for his heroic baseball accomplishments, he appears to have lived much of his private life -- particularly his post-baseball life -- as a lonely and unhappy man. Richard Ben Cramer's 'Joe DiMaggio: A Hero's Life' is much more than a biography about a baseball player. It is a book that transcends the game and it's players and very clearly makes evident that the public image created by the media about our heroes may not be true representations of what these people are really like. Much controversy has surrounded this book in terms of the honesty in which Cramer portrays various episodes about DiMaggio's life. Regardless of how much of what is written is true, this is a book that is well worth reading and one I'd highly recommend
A sad look at the true life of Joe. It was an eye opener and I think a good buy.
An interesting, albeit nostalgic and depressing look at one of America's heroes. This account is a real value play for sport's buffs!
Richard Ben Cramer tells a most comprehensive story of the life of one of America's greatest sports figures. Some readers may be upset and dissappointed by what they read, but to expect our sports heroes to be anything but complex isn't being realistic. For all the Red Sox fans who feel Joe D. could not hold a candle to Ted Williams I say, Ted Williams would trade his batting titles for one of Joe's World Series rings. As a long time Yankee fan, I feel I know, and still admire, the real Joe DiMaggio. A must read for all baseball fans.
A well written biography by an acomplished writer about a very complexed man. However, the 'Joltin Joe' we've read about in the sports page and the 'Java Joe' we saw on TV only reinforce the question - Where have you gone Joe DiMaggio? In fact, the 'Greatest Living Baseball Player' hardly possessed the same public persona off the field as he potrayed on the field. Perhaps, Dom DiMaggio only possessed a sliver of his brother's god given talent, but as a son, brother and friend he was a far better person than his athletically privilidged brother. In fact, as a Red Sox fan - Joe DiMaggio was just another no good dirty Yankee, who couldn't shine Ted Williams shoes either on the field or off!
For the people who have read this, I dont want to read this and have my whole perspective change about Joe DiMaggio. I think of him as a great man and if this biography will make me think of him as a bad person im not sure if I want to read it. So I guess my question is, will this make me think that about Joe DiMaggio?


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Ford Outsells GM for the Second Time Since 1998
Disregard the ads about the F-150 being the bestselling truck in 34 years: for only the second time in over a decade, Ford outsold crosstown rival GM overall, with 212, 295 vehicles, including some that aren't pickups.
Ford last outsold GM in February of 2010, but only by 471 vehicles. This time, however, the margin was by 5,674 more vehicles. In 1998, GM fell to second thanks to a strike at supplier Delphi, which allowed Ford to beat them by 83,883 vehicles.
Many of those were fleet sales: a 29% increase there and a 50% increase in commercial sales. Crossovers saw the best increases by 30%, while cars like the Fusion increased 15%. The recently-released Fiesta reached 9,787 units sold, a 56% increase over the previous month. Ford is rather proud of these gains but would rather you not mention the 2% decrease in Lincoln sales, despite the manliness of spokesman John Slattery.
And maybe don't disregard those F-150 ads just yet—despite crushing gas prices, most of Ford's sales gains came from trucks, which increased by 21%. The more fuel-efficient V6 model made a bulk of these sales, in case you thought Americans had a propensity to act irrationally in the face of gas price fluctuations.
[Source: Automotive News]

subset: commoncrawl


text:
Why your iPhone does not charge anymore?
Droid, Nexus One, Liquid .... basically each phone with more than 320x480 resolution, more capable of more than 1 app running simultaneously, capable of changing the battery, more RAM and maybe 10 ...
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Why does your iphone 3G not charge any more?
You need a new battery buddy. Take it to the Apple Store and talk to one of their people.
If you go on YouTube on your iPhone does it charge you?
No it does not. If you try to go to a store once in a while and get off your lazy butt maybe you would find out.:) no offense.......:)
Does it charge skype on your iPhone 4 when your far away?
Hold the home button and the lock/power button on the top for approx 10 seconds
If you use Wi-Fi on your Iphone does it charge your bill?
No, It shouldn't do.


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Born into a happy New England family, John Winslow Irving enjoyed the benefits of his father's position as teacher of Russian history and treasurer of Phillips Exeter Academy. He attended that prestigious school himself, which under various disguises serves as a setting for many of his novels, including The World According to Garp (1978) and A Prayer for Owen Meany (1989). After several false starts in college, including a year at the University of Vienna, he received his B.A. in 1965 from the University of New Hampshire. Following graduate work in the writing program at the University of Iowa, he became an assistant professor at Mount Holyoke College in Massachusetts.
His first novel, Setting Free the Bears, was published in 1969 and received more critical attention than most first novels. It is a picaresque novel and a Bildungsroman. Irving made use of his Austrian experiences in this novel, and he introduced many of the themes and motifs that were to reappear in his canon, such as caged bears, motorcycles, and bizarre deaths. He continued to write, relying on academic salaries from small New England colleges, writer residencies, and grants from large institutions. Although his next novels, The Water-Method Man (1972) and The 158-Pound Marriage (1974), sold only about six thousand copies each, he had gained a reputation as an academic writer and was supported by the Rockefeller Foundation in 1972...
(The entire section is 513 words.)
In order to write about the real world, Irving has tried to meet the extraordinary in combat and beat it at its own game. Throughout his sometimes echoing, recurring, and reflective novelistic worlds, a rightness prevails, guided by the hand and eye of the novelist, whose real job is "freeing the bears" of natural human impulses. There is no such thing as seediness or sin in Irving's novels—all smallness is strengthened by the largeness of life's positive value, and all sin is washed away by uplifting human emotions.
(The entire section is 91 words.)
John Winslow Irving was born John Wallace Blunt, Jr., on March 2, 1942, in Exeter, New Hampshire. His parents were Colin F. Irving and Frances Winslow Irving. A biological father had departed, and Irving was adopted by his stepfather and renamed when his mother remarried. His adoptive father taught Russian history at Exeter Academy, where Irving attended school. At Exeter, he developed two lifelong interests, writing and wrestling, and became convinced that both required the same skills: practice and determination. Though not an outstanding student, he developed an appreciation of hard, steady work and a love of literature. Of his early apprenticeships Irving remarked in a Rolling Stone interview, "I was a very dull kid. But I really learned how to wrestle and I really learned how to write. I didn't have an idea in my head." After graduating from Exeter at the age of nineteen, Irving spent a year at the University of Pittsburgh, where the wrestling competition convinced him that writing was a better career choice.
In 1962, Irving enrolled at the University of New Hampshire, where he began to work with authors Thomas Williams and John Yount, but a desire to see more of the world caused him to drop out. After an intensive summer course in German at Harvard University, he left for Vienna, where he enrolled at the Institute of European Studies. During his two years in Vienna, Irving married Shyla Leary, a painter whom he had met at Harvard, studied German, and became seriously devoted to writing. Living in an unfamiliar place sharpened his powers of observation; as he said in a 1981 Time interview, "You are made to notice even the trivial things—especially the trivial things." He returned to the University of New Hampshire, worked again with Thomas Williams, and graduated cum laude in 1965. From there, with his wife and son, Colin, Irving went to the University of Iowa Writers' Workshop, where he earned an M.F.A. degree in creative writing in 1967. During his time at Iowa, Irving continued wrestling with Dan Gable, the Iowa coach who won a medal at the 1976 Munich Olympics. Encouraged by writer-in-residence Kurt Vonnegut, he also completed his first published novel, Setting Free the Bears, which is set in Austria.
Setting Free the Bears was well...
(The entire section is 948 words.)


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2013-08-23 / Community
Wisdom From The Storm
I'm not quite sure if I had
Submitted by firstname.lastname@example.com on Tue, 2013-08-27 10:17.
I'm not quite sure if I had noticed these right away. But one day I had gone back to clean out the rest of the apartment & was putting more of our belonging at the curb & there was one on the utility pole outside. It certainly helped get me through the day. Such a simple & small act of kindness put a smile on my face. I kept wondering where they had come from. I would like to say Thank You to Stars of Hope!!! They really did give hope to some of us if not all.


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95 Jeep Problems
I was curious if someone could give me some help. Motor was changed out in my jeep, now it won't start or even attempt to. Can get motor to turn over by jumping across the solenoid, but not with the key. Changed the ignition switch and checked it with a test light and seems to be doing what it is supposed to. Could I have a ground problem or what? Don't have any fire etiher when I do turn it over with the jumping. Any help would be appreciated.
If you can jump it via solenoid/starter and you have new ignition switch, that's a good start. But you are jumping from starter to batt. Grounds would be, naturally, off battery, off solenoid, off starter, off alt, off coil. Re-tighten them all. You don't have an ignition module but coil could be toast? Or plug wires? Or distributor/cap?
When this identical thing happened to me, strangely, it was simply the battery...but I'm thinking coil.
wondering if you have the dreaded 88 computer.. # 88 right on it.. anyway, fuel and spark are 2 of it's notorious symptoms. hard part to find... $100... good luck. (oh.. and not interchangeable with a different #) new motor you say??? what ECU operated that?
Yes it has a newer motor let's say. The other one was blew up, found a used one with way less miles and put that in there. Coil? Even though it's fuel injection? Just has a coil pack right? Is that what you are talking about? I did put a new batttery in the ol girl also. The ECU hasn't been changed either. What #88 are you talking about? It has been really confusing to me, everything looks like it has power where it should. Except when you go to start it, it won't even attempt to turnover. Thanks for all the help with this matter.
Oh and also, when I turn the key on I don't here the fuel pump coming on either. May have more than one problem. Thanks again,
the dreaded 88.. 0r 828 jeep ecu
"> http://i1054.photobucket.com/albums/...1/IMAG0466.jpg
should be located near the back drivers fender. no fuel and or no spark are common symptoms that this may be shot. The engine not turning over I'm not sure about.
How much of the wiring did you undue when you swapped out motor? Did you pull the entire wiring off engine and leave it with the jeep or did you pull it all out with the motor?
as far as I know, you have to match the engine with the ECM or vice versa, if you have an engine that is later than a 95, that might be your problem...
All the wiring was left with the jeep. So if the engine and the ECM don't match, then it won't run or do anything like its supposed to? Is that what I read? Thanks again for all the help!
The reason I ask is because it could be something like a neutral safety switch or something along those lines. They're real easy to overlook when re hooking everything up. If you have an automatic, make sure your linkage is adjusted right so that it's not actually trying to start in gear
Its not an automatic, standard. I was told there wasn't a neutral safety switch on the 87-95 model jeeps. On the clutch or anywhere else for that matter. I don't know I am aggravated!
What year engine is the new one?
I am not 100% sure what year the engine is in it. I will have to find out. They could not be compatable then right? Is that what you are saying?
So if my engine and ECU don't match then there inlies the problem??
As long as you put the same engine back in there you should be fine. If the new engine is alot newer than the original, then they may have changed something that would cause a problem
I would take each problem one at a time. Follow your solenoid wire out to figure why it won't turn over with key. When that problems fixed move on to your firing issue. Make sure and check your relays too
Will do just that. Yes it was the same engine, but not sure if it is newer or older for sure. Been working on it for about a year and just seem to be running myself in circles with it. Frustrating! I have checked and swapped all the relays, everyone of them seem to be fine and in working order. There is however 2 missing. One is on the firewall to the left of the battery and the other is just to the left of the battery as well. I traced the wires to the one just to the left and it runs the fog lights. THe other I am not sure about, and not sure what relays to put in them either.
So when you put this engine back in, I take it you used the original injection set up and fuel system, along with alternator, starter,distributor and all sensors from the old engine etc.
If so the thing should at least turn over and have spark etc. Somewhere you have a broken or misplaced wire or unconnected relay..If you say your fuel pump does not run, the problem may be your ecm like Frenz said....
The fuel injection is fromt he motor that was put in, everything else came off the old engine. I am thinking a relay is missing, but not 100% sure. Yes the fuel pump is not kicking on when the key is turned on. I do have headlights, taillights, but don't have blinkers or brake lights, and the fuses are all good. It does have the 828 ECM that Frenz was talking about. I will take a picture of the engine compartment so I can show you the relays that are missing to give you a better idea, see if we can come up with a possible solution to what the problem is maybe. Not sure how to upload a pic, but will try and figure it out. Thanks for all the help and input with my situation.
Archie :banghead:
Would the ECM go bad just sitting?? The jeep has been sitting for a couple years since the engine blew, and about a year since the motor has been replaced.?!?!?!?!
Well? how's it going. any luck there?
you have an alarm?
Its going, at a roadblock still. It does have the 828 ECM in it. Is there any way to test to see if it is bad? No, don't have an alarm on it. So the guess is that the ECM is bad? FRENZ, how much did you say that they run on a general basis? I would like to have it running by summer or before if at all possible.
about $100 not less. but check fuses under the hood. rule out the other possibilities. maybe try getting codes off ecu by turning ignition on off on off on.. then count the light flashes on the dash. I sent u a pm with the how to's on the 5th. I'm still not sure that the ecm/ecu would prevent the engine from turning over. I know that it is a common place to intercept or interrupt signals during and for alarm installation. and I know that they go bad.. a lot. That is why they are hard to find.
5 things your car needs to start.
Thanks, I will try to clear the codes, that key has been turned back and forth a hundred times haha. I will keep checking, and like you said I am about to take it to a mech to see if he can figure it out quicker. The engine will turn over, just not getting the signal from the ignition switch to the starter. Thanks for all the help. I did get you pm and read through some of it. Been busy with that among work. You know how that goes I am sure.
Hey, the good news is according to my guy, it's prolly just your solenoid. hanging on the side of your starter. if we are talking about the engine not cranking when u turn the key. ahh.. never mind.
I had the starter off and took it to the auto parts store and they checked it and said it all checked out ok.
Is there any way to check the ECU to see if it is actually bad or not? Something else I was gonna ask was, with the ignition switch out and still plugged in, I can hit the prong that is for the starter, and the engine willl turn over. But, still no fire that way either. So could be the ECU? Not letting it have or get signal?
Checked the engine, it came out of 94 model jeep. August of 94. That shouldn't be much of a difference should it?? Appreciate the help, Thanks alot
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Fender Rhodes Full Refurb Kit$128.00
Restore your Rhodes piano with with all in 1 kit! It includes our hammer tip kit, damper felt kit, miracle mod kit, and tone bar screws, washers and grommets!
Our full refurb kits contain essentials for professional restoration of your Fender Rhodes piano. Kits come with choice of hammer tip kit, damper felts, tone bar screws and grommets and a miracle mod kit.
Need help choosing your hammer tips? Take a look at The Vintage Vibe Guide to Hammer Tips!
What's Included
Damper Felt Kit
- Hammer Tip Kit (Choose graduated, angled, square or felt)
- Tone Bar Screw & Grommet Kit
- Miracle Mod Kit*
*As post 1978 Rhodes have a bump incorporated into the key pedestal, the post 78 miracle mod kit does not include bumps.


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These Fein MultiMaster sanding pads (part number 63806136029) are for use with dust extraction. The pack contains two unperforated sanding pads.


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Stay in style on the boardwalk in Ocean City, Maryland! The Grand Hotel is a premiere choice for great oceanfront rooms, and exceptional beaches. With a variety of amenities, the Grand Hotel has boardwalk shops, a day spa and eateries on site. Spend your nights in comfort with great balcony views a...
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Beautiful Bay Views and Outdoor Terrace. Terrace not included in the above dimensions
Located on the 12 floor of the hotel, our King Jacuzzi Rooms are perfect for a romantic get away or for any VIP. Each room features a kitchenette w/ microwave, under counter refrigerator, coffee maker and sink. Each room also offers electronic safe, hair dryer, ironing board and iron.
Business is far from usual when you're at Hyatt Regency Chesapeake Bay Golf Resort, Spa & Marina. Beautifully situated on hundreds of acres on the Choptank River, with incredible amenities, your corporate function is sure to be a memorable success.


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Call 0333 200 2024 lines open Mon to Fri - 9am to 6pm
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Europa Leisure are a stunning brand in the designer outdoor furniture market, providing stylish and high quality lounger. The Europa Leisure Alfa White & Blue Lounger is just one example of this, and is characterised by the Alfa wheeled lounger with adjustable backrest will lay completely flat for sunbathing. It has a breathable synthetic fabric (which is replaceable in the event of accidental damage.) It has small roller wheels set into the frame, is stackable, and extremely strong and hardwearing; the same model as supplied to international hotel groups and major cruise lines for use around their swimming pools. The bed height is 30cms and includes armrests.These attributes would complement a modern outdoor setting.
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Filed under: Sleep
Regular physical activity can make you sleep better—but how close to bedtime should you exercise? While the general opinion has been that vigorous exercise within three hours of bedtime might negatively affect your sleep, new research is reexamining this belief. Some preliminary studies have found that exercise before bed (both moderate and vigorous) didn't negatively impact sleep quality. However, more research is needed to better understand truly how exercise closer to bedtime can impact sleep. Remember—there are many factors that contribute to a good night's sleep. Just be aware that if you exercise in the evening, it might affect how well you sleep at night. Check out HPRC's Sleep Optimization section for additional information.
Total Force Fitness requires optimal performance, and optimal performance requires optimal sleep. One way to get your best sleep may lie in some of the subtle sounds you hear every day. You may have heard of "white" noise, a type of random, constant sound that can filter or mask surrounding noises. Studies have now found that another kind of sound—"pink" noise—can help your sleep be even more restful than actual silence. Unlike white noise, the volume of pink noise is essentially the same regardless of its frequency. (For serious audio buffs, here's an explanation from Georgia State University's "HyperPhysics" department.) When you think of pink noise, think of rain falling or the rhythm of a heartbeat. This kind of noise regulates and synchronizes with your brainwaves, which enhances the percentage of time you're in a restful, stable sleep. Pink noise might be another strategy to add to your arsenal for getting better sleep. You can get recordings of pink noise from a variety of sources online—some even free—for your smartphone or other mp3 player or cd/dvd player. A little searching should turn up something you like. And read more about the importance of sleep and how it affects your performance.
According to a recent report about post-exercise recovery and regeneration for athletes, men over 19 and women over 18 needs 8-10 hours of sleep a night (plus a 30-minute afternoon nap, as needed) for optimal athletic performance.
Continuing good sleep habits established earlier in adolescence such as regular meals, early morning light exposure, and a nightly sleep routine remain important. However, it's also important to monitor the effects of stress and changes in sleep due to training/military operations.
Even if you're not an athlete, the recommendations above still apply, except that your total sleep needs are seven to nine hours a night to keep you at your best.
Some additional tips for sleep:
- Regular exercise during the day can help you sleep better at night.
- If you have a question about whether to exercise more or sleep, choose sleep!
- During the night, if you wake up and after 20 minutes haven't gone back to sleep, get out of bed, do something relaxing, and then get back in bed. You'll probably fall right asleep.
Also, for a better understanding of your current sleep habits, afterdeployment.org has an online "sleep assessment" that you can take. For more information on how to optimize your sleep, visit the HPRC's Sleep Optimization section.
Did you know that missing a night of sleep can produce performance results similar to those of being legally drunk? Even losing just a few hours of sleep can result in accidents and poor physical and mental performance. Sleepiness can inhibit balance, coordination, concentration, and response time—creating "the perfect storm" for accidents.
Make sure your sleep is optimal by turning off your electronics and other distractions well before bedtime, exercising during the day, avoiding caffeine late in the day, and sticking to a consistent sleep schedule. If you are in a situation where sleep is hard to come by, try to squeeze in naps when possible. For more information and ideas, check out HPRC's article on sleep and visit HPRC's Sleep Optimization resources.
Do you know how much sleep you and your loved ones are getting—and supposed to be getting? Keep in mind the recommendations differ by age group. According to a report from Canadian Sport for Life on optimal sleep for athletic performance at all life stages:
- Children under the age of six need 13–16 hours of sleep daily, including longer nighttime sleep and fewer daytime naps as they get older.
- As girls reach the ages of 6–8 and boys reach 6–9, their sleep needs drop to 10–11 hours of sleep a night.
- Girls 8–11 and boys 9–12 need 9 ½ to 10 hours of sleep a night.
- Girls 11–15 and boys 12–16 need around nine hours of sleep a night.
- In addition to their nightly sleep, girls 6-15 and boys 6-16 need a 30-minute-plus nap between 2–4 pm every day.
For young children, meals—particularly breakfast—are an important part of establishing a reliable sleep routine, and as children age they should start developing a 15–30 minute routine before bedtime to get ready physically for sleep. This is also a great opportunity for some quality time between parents and children that you can all look forward to each night.
To make this goal easier, be sure your kids avoid computers and TVs (anything with electronic stimulation) for one to two hours before bedtime. Allow an hour to unwind before bed—try soothing music, reading, and dim lighting.
As children become teenagers, make sure they don't start incurring a sleep debt by sleeping less than needed. Encourage them to keep regular sleep hours, get early morning light exposure, and carefully gauge their caffeine consumption close to bedtime.
The report mentioned above suggests using a sleep log (and provides a sample log) to get an idea of your and your child's sleep patterns. Remember that the warrior athletes of tomorrow need to develop good sleep habits today!


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Artist Wayne Thiebaud Honored at SFMOMA
Feb 01, 2007
The Modern Art Council gave painter and printmaker Wayne Thiebaud the 2006 Bay Area Treasure Award in recognition of his lifetime achievements at a luncheon held at SFMOMA yesterday.
Thiebaud's "Toy Mickey"
K. Eichler, W. Thiebaud D. Chamas, B. Linder B. Conrad, M. Sutherland
D. Spalding, M. Pilara A. Iann, K. Walker J. Sears, R. Baker
To see more of Drew's party and event pics, go to drewaltizer.com.
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Nonverbal Communication Projects?
Not all communication is transmitted through words. In fact, so-called nonverbal communication, which includes sounds, tone of voice, gestures, facial movements and body language, is an indispensab...
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What Are Some Ways That Nonverbal Communication Can Enhance Verbal Communication?
Communication involves much more than using words. Nonverbal cues, such as eye contact, gestures and posture, also influence how others interpret messages. These cues can change the way people view...
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How much of communication is nonverbal?
Researchers do not completely agree about how much of communication is nonverbal, though none of their approximations are small. Most researchers estimate that nonverbal communication accounts for ...
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Technology & Nonverbal Communication?
Communication is one of the many areas of human life affected by technological advancements. Devices are continually developed which serve to enhance the way humans interact with each other. A spec...
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Courses in Nonverbal Communication?
Nonverbal communication is the form of communication that we use most when interacting with another person. Nonverbal communication consists of our facial expressions, our posture when we communica...
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Team Evolution is a professional Kart racing team which has seen a wealth of drivers pass through their doors from complete novices to European drivers. The team are now one of the biggest and most dominant forces within Karting, and has previously seen drivers dominate club, British and European Championships.
The Team is based at Bayford Meadows Kart Circuit in Kent, where they have a fully equipped trackside workshop. Renowned for their honest and friendly advice, the Team cater for driver from 6 years old with their main forte being Bambino, Honda Cadet and X30 Junior & Senior Classes.
All budgets can be catered for so whether you are looking for one to one tuition day, a full arrive and drive package or more information on starting Karting please do not hesitate to get in touch
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Born: 26 June 1996
Location: Isle of Sheepey


text:
True Blood: Season Six (US - DVD R1 | BD RA)
More lurid vampire soap operas are on their way to your BR and DVD collections
Starring: Naked Vampires
Released: 3rd June 2014
Further Details:
HBO has announced the Blu-ray Combo Pack (Blu-rays/DVDs/Digital Copies) and DVD releases of
True Blood: The Complete Sixth Season.
The Blu-ray Combo Pack and DVD sets will include:
- Inside the Episodes (10 Clips) — Get the backstories on each of the episodes with revealing interviews with the show writers.
- Previews/Recaps
- 5 Audio Commentaries with the cast and crew including Executive Producer Brian Buckner, Stephen Moyer (Bill), Carrie Preston (Arlene), Amelia Rose Blaire (Willa), and more.
Blu-ray will also feature the following exclusive extras:
- Vamp Camp Files — Get an inside look at the secret trove of documents detailing the effort to eradicate vampires via the institution known as 'Vamp Camp.'
- True Blood Lines — Uncover secrets from relationships past and present in this engaging fully interactive guide and archive.
Quote: With the Authority in flames, Tru Blood in short supply, and humans in open conflict with vampires, a plethora of new threats and jarring storylines arise for human/faerie hybrid Sookie Stackhouse and her allies in the sixth season of this provocative, enthralling and wildly entertaining HBO series. As "Billith" comes to terms with his newfound powers after emerging from a pool of blood at the end of Season 5, Louisiana Governor Truman Burrell (Arliss Howard) declares open season on vampires, replete with anti-vamp weapons and a high-tech internment camp. Meanwhile, Sookie and Jason steel themselves for an encounter with the killer of their parents; the mysterious and ancient Warlow.
News by Gabriel Powers
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text: Next Story > Real Time Economics Rajan Defends His Hawkish Moves By Nupur Acharya Nupur Acharya The Wall Street Journal CANCEL BiographyNupur Acharya @nupuracharya nupuracharya Feb 26, 2014 10:50 pm ET Bloomberg News Raghuram Rajan, India's central bank chief, defended his decision to repeatedly raise interest rates, reiterating Wednesday that reducing inflation was the best way to foster stable growth. To Read the Full Story, Subscribe or Sign In Previous In South Korea, Reform Plan Resembles Japan's Abenomics Next Got Milk? Strong Dairy Demand May Force New Zealand to Raise Rates


text:
Career Development Program (CDP) accepts eligible individuals who desire to obtain full-time employment and provides them with the support necessary to be successful. In order to be accepted into the CDP, clients must meet a certain set of criteria and have minimal barriers to employment.
The CDP consists of three phases:
- Phase 1: Vocational Readiness in which clients volunteer at SHO in order to simulate a real-life work environment. During this phase, they receive training on interview skills,interpersonal skills, and resume development skills. This training is done both in-house and through a partner organization, STRIVE.
- Phase 2: Transitional Housing in which clients, who have attained jobs, move into housing provided by SHO for up to six months and have the majority of their costs of living paid for by SHO (rent, furniture, electricity, water, and sanitation). Currently,individuals in the CDP live in apartments leased by SHO for 30 days rent-free. However, after our property at 1155 Lucile Avenue* in Southwest Atlanta is renovated, new participants will live in this 10-unit apartment complex during Phase 2.
- Phase 3: Permanent Supportive Housing in which clients move into housing secured by SHO and pay rent on a bi-monthly basis. This phase happens after clients have shown continued and stable growth in their careers and have met criteria outlined in the Self-Sufficiency Matrix. During Phase 3, clients receive continued, intensive case management and support from SHO. All aspects of CDP take place under the supervision of a case manager who works closely with the clients and their employers. By providing long-term, intensive case management coupled with intimate relationships with our job partners such as CKS packaging and Starwood Hotels and Resorts, we work diligently to ensure our clients' success.
Participants CLICK HERE


text:
The Horned Gods of Yule
The Horned Gods of Yule
Eternal battles wage
between dark and light,
The Twins clash,
Never to reunite.
The Oaken Lord, warm and fertile,
breathes life into earth.
While the Holly King,
quelled, awaits rebirth.
The daffodils bloom,
Amidst the waterfalls and fronds,
Laden trees beside the winding creeks; and
Grassy knolls by the sunlit ponds.
Midwinter to Midsummer,
The Wheel of the Year turns.
Reincarnated and invincible;
The exiled king returns.
The trees grow bare,
And the leaves turn brown,
With every little breeze,
They pirouette down.
The king, winter incarnate, and
The harbinger of death,
Vanquishes the tired Lord,
Cold winds under its breath.
Endless cycles, of life and death,
Seasons of joy and pain.
The transience of existence,
Borne by this dual reign.


text:
H.Con.Res.63 - Honoring the service of Native American Indians in the United States Armed Forces.113th Congress (2013-2014)
Concurrent ResolutionHide Overview icon-hide
|Rep. Kirkpatrick, Ann [D-AZ-1] (Introduced 10/30/2013)
|House - Armed Services
|Latest Action:
|01/24/2014 Referred to the Subcommittee on Military Personnel. (All Actions)
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Text: H.Con.Res.63 — 113th Congress (2013-2014)All Bill Information (Except Text)
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Introduced in House (10/30/2013)
113th CONGRESS
1st Session
Honoring the service of Native American Indians in the United States Armed Forces.
Mrs. Kirkpatrick (for herself, Mrs. Negrete McLeod, Ms. Norton, Mr. O'Rourke, Mr. Cárdenas, Mr. Vargas, Mr. Conyers, Mr. Cole, Mr. Honda, Mr. Mullin, Mr. Denham, Mr. Grijalva, Ms. McCollum, Mr. Hastings of Florida, Mr. Ruiz, Mr. Michaud, Mr. Cook, Mr. McIntyre, Mr. Moran, Ms. Hanabusa, and Mr. Benishek) submitted the following concurrent resolution; which was referred to the Committee on Armed Services
Honoring the service of Native American Indians in the United States Armed Forces.
Whereas Native American Indians have served with distinction in the United States Armed Forces and in military actions for more than 200 years;
Whereas the courage, determination, and fighting spirit of Native American Indians were strengths recognized and valued by American military leaders;
Whereas more than 150,000 Native American Indians have fought for the United States in the struggle for freedom and peace, and often in a percentage well above their percentage of the population of the United States as a whole;
Whereas the Elders of the American Indian Society have proclaimed that official recognition of the military service of Native American Indians would help engender a sense of self-esteem and pride in Native American Indians;
Whereas, although November 11, Veterans Day, marks a day of observance for all veterans who served in the Armed Forces, the establishment of a specific National Native American Indian Veterans Day would honor the service of Native American Indians in the Armed Forces; and
Whereas November 7, a date during the annual Native American Indian Heritage Month, would be an appropriate day to establish as National Native American Indian Veterans Day: Now, therefore, be it
Resolved by the House of Representatives (the Senate concurring), That the House of Representatives—
(1) honors the service of Native American Indians in the Armed Forces;
(2) recommends the establishment of a National Native American Indian Veterans Day;
(3) encourages all Americans to learn about the history of the service of Native American Indians in the Armed Forces; and
(4) requests the President to issue a proclamation calling on the people of the United States to observe the day with appropriate ceremonies, activities, and programs to demonstrate their support for Native American Indian veterans.


text:
After what seemed hours of training Qurevok came over and gave me som flowers it made me blush the whole time he never looked a fialka and left.
Fialka and I were closer tha ever and I was sitting in our room playing with the flowers where I had put the in a vase. My throught started burning my thirst was growing stronger and I tried to ignore it.
"Anju"Booogie pleaded "Anju you cant ignore you thirst it will make you weak you need to feed soo I sense your in pain" Fialka was next to withn the moment looking into my eyes. She could the blood lut making my eyes shimmer.
"come one Anju time to go feed" she took my hand and lead to me the kitchen and sat me on the side whiled she looked in the fridge.
"Fialka I dont want too I dont want to drink blood it will make me eveil I-" she come over to mewith two bottles of blood I could smell the blood, it made my mouth water and my throut burn more.
she cut me off "Nonesense Anju its your natue you cant help it and put in my hand I groaned as I couldnt fight thehunger and stook my fangs into the lid and brank with big gulp it trickled down my throut and easd the pain. it trickled down the side of my moth and my neck. I started puring with pleasre of he blood I hadnt drank blood in many weeks.
I har someone enter the kitchen I snapped myhead round, I must of pure evil eyes glowin red and blood trickling down my chin, as the gasped and ran out. I put my drink down I looked at te floor I was evil.
Fialk cae over put her hand under my chin and lifted it up and the blood that escaped my mouth. "Its ok Anju there just used to seeing Vampires feed no need to feel ashamed her word made me feel better and I loked at her. my eyes now full with curiosity.
"Fialka how did you become a vampire? because I know your not a pure blood and what was ur life like before?"


text:
Changing Notions of Lifelong Education and Lifelong Learning
- Cite this article as:
- Tuijnman, A. & Boström, AK. International Review of Education (2002) 48: 93. doi:10.1023/A:1015601909731
- Citations
- 1.1k Downloads
Drawing on material from IRE as well as other sources, this article describes how the notion of lifelong education came into prominence in the educational world in the late 1960s, how it related to the concepts of formal, non-formal and informal education, and how it contrasted with the idea of recurrent eduction, as promoted by the OECD. The author goes on to discuss the emergence of the broader and more holistic concept of lifelong learning and the various ways in which it is understood. The article shows how IRE and its host institute have played an important part in the debate on these issues.
Copyright information
© Kluwer Academic Publishers 2002


text:
Very few Women are ever going to ask if you want them to talk naughty or send erotic pictures to you. For this kind of stuff you're gonna have to learn to beg.
Speaking of the above I recently received several messages on Facebook from Women who were looking for a long term relationship with a kind and honest Man. I soon became suspicious when these Women next used very graphic language to describe the kind of loving they had in mind for me. As I suspected shortly after erotic pictures started arriving the request for emergency money also showed up. After a little research I soon discovered these so called Women were really guys using fake pictures and fake prose to attract lonely Men. Thank God I'm not that lonely yet.
A couple of weeks ago we celebrated my Daughter Cami's 17th Birthday. I figure the next big events in her life will be her graduation from High School and College but the major event I'm looking forward to is when I get to dance with her at her Wedding. I have no plans though to make anymore Flower Girls.(Cami was the Flower Girl at her Sister Candis' wedding)
R I P Big John Gillis. Live stream of the service Saturday Nov 17 at 2 pm EST http://www.flannerbuchanan.com/
Can you imagine if we could vote on line. It's easy to safeguard the banks did it long ago. People who don't vote now would probably do it then which would change everything because there is no research in on them. The Politicians would be flying blind. Very exciting!
Jim Davis added an addendum to my claim that the the 3 words Women yearn to hear are "You Were Right" Jim's got it down to 2. "I'm Wrong" and "I'm Sorry" Now if we could get it down to one word Jim we could all get back to watching football a little quicker.
I got hacked recently and a request must have gone out asking people to endorse me. I receive a few messages everyday from folks claiming they have endorsed me. I want thank all the nice people who went out of their way to do this but what the hell does one do with all these endorsements?
I've always felt we have a way too many choices in America except in the Presidential Race. Surely those two weren't the best we've got!
Only two types of people tell you the truth about yourself ... Dear Friends and Angry Enemies.
Almost everyday we hear about another high paid executive being fired because he ruined the business he was running but was paid millions of dollars in severance anyway. I wonder if the reason Mitt didn't fare well in the election had anything to do with the fact that maybe the folks didn't buy his act because he looks too much like one of them. Regular folks don't get those sweet deals like that when they get fired.
While hanging with Ron Chapman for the weekend in Chicago at the Hall Of Fame ceremonies we did a little reminiscing about the early days at KVIL when we launched America's very first AC station in Dallas. Ron told me he didn't buy into the project at first but being a pro he would give it a fair shot. When the rating book came out he said he "Got It" completely and the rest as they say was history.
If you were born to stand out its going to be awfully tough to blend in.
I have heard the term "sales friendly" used in a lot of programming meetings but I don't ever remember hearing the term "programming friendly" used in a sales meeting.
When I first met Jim Hilliard I was a kid. Jim was this older guy with a Wife and 2 kids so consequently he was like a father figure to me. When ever I was thinking of buying something expensive I would be a little nervous about it so I would ask Jim if he thought I should buy it. You know things like a new Corvette or a Larger house or maybe even a trip to Hawaii or Paris etc. Jim would always say ... Step up there Man, you deserve it you work hard. It was almost like my Dad saying go ahead son. Dads always knew what was right for you. I don't know what the hell happened but Jim and I seem to be the same age now and he doesn't think I should buy anything.
The Hunny Bunny thankfully has a vicious attack dog named Rico guarding her.(see picture above) Rico's presence makes me feel a whole lot better seeing as she lives too far away in South Miami for me to get there quickly.
It's very dangerous to play it safe.
There is nothing better than double digit ratings.
My favorite celebration of course is a ratings party see above.
I think I could be best described as a reluctant romantic.
Have you ever noticed that the people who are not funny backstage all tell jokes when they go on the air.
The only way you make big money in Radio is to make management afraid you're going to leave.
All Radio stations eventually sound like the PD.
There's really only 2 tempos in music. It's either up or it's not.
The Walt Disney style of Management was done from the bottom up. Walt simply supported what all the people above him in the inverted pyramid wanted to do. This put enormas pressure on the troops to come up with something for Walt to support.
As Lee Masters remembers, the attitude in the hallways always manages to get on the air.
Have you ever noticed there aren't a lot of songs written about Mr. Businessman.
If your not talented your only other hope is ... Get yourself famous!
No matter how good you think your Radio station sounds a sales person will soon straighten you out.
Women with children or plans to have them hate 3 things on the radio. Sex Drugs and Rock & Roll.
The hundred dollar bill wrapped around a commercial or tune doesn't make it sound any better.
For me the only good show on a Radio station is the one that produces a great promo.
The only thing a listener remembers about a Radio station is it's inconsistencies.


text:
A Hawaiian fish. See also Fish, Songs.
Added by rinarose on February 15, 2010 | 7 people like this You Like This | Unlike
omfg , how the hell do you say that
meggy on February 20, 2010
humu humu nukka nukka apu ah ahh.
just say it fast.
i learnt the hard way...hig school musical 2!
Suiseiseki on April 9, 2010
its the state fish
oga buga on May 19, 2010
My new password
Bruce on May 10, 2012
They have those where I live!
Guest on December 1, 2013
Don't be a potato! Just register or login before commenting.
Your Name
Fight Spam! What's 5+3?


text:
Here are a few ways you can help:
- Apply to adopt a rescued pet
- Open your home to a foster pet
- Volunteer at pet adoption days at PETCO
- Volunteer to drive transports
- Organize fundraisers
- Volunteer your computer skills
- Volunteer grant-writing skills
- Make adoption follow-up calls
- Donate funds
- Donate supplies
- Used or new pet items
- collars and leashes
- towels and blankets
- Lemon Joy
- Office supplies
- printer paper and ink (HP 901)
- stamps
- three-ring binders
Gifts cards (gas, Walmart, and pet supply stores) Save and donate your newspapers (no salepapers please) for lining crates and puppy pens Have your pets spayed or neutered Support our shelter! Buy Frontline Plus and pet medications today! Donate a pet bed to EMAR Earn money for EMAR by simply searching or shopping on the web with Goodsearch!
If you are interested in donating time, money, or supplies, please contact Paula Joyner at (601) 553-3060 or by e-mail at email@example.com.


text:
Charlotte's Web Vintage Dolls and Collectibles
Cathy Adams, Available at Request, KY
Four vintage All Bisque Dolls. No cracks or repairs present. The largest one is 6 inches and marked on back Germany, a little loose in stringing, some paintwear, Second doll is marked Germany on back, is 5.5 inches long and jointed. Third doll not marked, is wired jointed and is 2.5 inches long. The last doll is painted bisque marked Occupied Japan, is a bit loose in stringing and is 3.75 inches long.
6 other shoppers have this item in their Cart or Wish List .
We ship 3-4 days per week! Submit your best offer
A Little Vintage Shop Specializing in Dolls, Toys and Headvases


text:
|Reviews for Lord of the Lost
| I3charliepace chapter 8 . 3/29/2013
dieing lol sooooo funny!
| Deranged Lil' Hobbit chapter 8 . 7/8/2007
Ha, I read the rest of it, and could not stop giggling -yes, giggling- for an hour! Love the Madagascar penguins. They're my favorite!
| Deranged Lil' Hobbit chapter 3 . 7/4/2007
"He then tripped over an ant, and landed flat on his face." BEST line ever!
"All the animals threw their acorns at Locke while screaming 'LIAR!'" HOLY SHAZNACK, that ties in perfectly with my theory... The squirrels are trying to take over the world, using acorns as projectiles, and the jealous chipmunks do their bidding while secretly planning an upheaval... Scary.
"The Inn of the prancing French lady" That actually makes sense... In a strange, disconnected sort of way...
Oh boi, too funny! This certainly was a crossover waiting to happen. Too much to read in one sitting, though, so I shall save it and read the rest later. I shall review once I have ingested the rest of your comedic goodness!
| hersheygal chapter 8 . 8/20/2006
I hope you update soon! :D
| Leaviel chapter 8 . 7/16/2006
Glorfindel... you're bringing in Glorfindel... no one seems to like him... I'm actually surprised you didn't have Kate charging in on that strange black horse of hers... hm...
| flight815surviver chapter 2 . 7/15/2006
now that was funnier. Lots of tiny one-liners that got me laughing, running in triangles, classic. Lets have some sawyer throun in... please
| flight815surviver chapter 1 . 7/15/2006
Funny even though we all know that is not there connection, please. Sawyer is such a manly man, jack only has manley man arms, sawyer has a great manly man body. I thought the first chapter was kinda funny a bit confusing and unnessercerily wierd in a not funny way. stil i will continue reading.
| Katiieiy chapter 8 . 7/13/2006
YAY FOR UPDATES! Hehehe,I found this chapter funny! Specially the banana part *-grabs a banana from the kitchen-* LC,I will stab you like the Others! *-stabs self instead-*...*dies*...Anyway,GOOD JOB! But now I have to update...
| Guardian of the crest chapter 7 . 7/13/2006
WOOT! JACK IS ARAGORN! I LOVE THEM BOTH! *glomps* Anyway, you must update very soon...*gives evil eye* very son... - MEEP!
(Ace says hi! Or maybe help...oh well.)
| review man chapter 7 . 5/24/2006
This chaper wasn't as funny as the first ones but I'm glad you updated, I thought you'd forgotten all about this story.
| Cyberdhampir chapter 7 . 5/21/2006
Charlie can actually spell locke's name? Well, of course he can, but he's acting like a complete peabrained stupidiot in this story. (stupidiot - stupid idiot. I made it up, but its not copyrighted so feel free to call anyone you like it.) yay! jacks in it! I think hurley would make a good dwarf - just an idea. update soon.
| Cyberdhampir chapter 6 . 5/21/2006
sam didn't do a disclaimers this chapter! Oh well, never mind. Was that spanish sentence something to do with elephant enchiladas? I speak french but I don't speak spanish. Whatever language it's in its still funny! more!
| Cyberdhampir chapter 5 . 5/21/2006
now this is just getting randomer and wierder. its realy funny. mor randomly wierd stuff, please.
| Cyberdhampir chapter 4 . 5/21/2006
random word of the day: BOWLING BALLS! that was so wierd, i like it.
| Cyberdhampir chapter 3 . 5/21/2006
At the line 'prancing french lady' a very strange image popped into my head. nothing rude or anything, just something very wierd. lol, please carry on.


text:
Gemme: If I leave, will you follow?Mature
I got a shower too, soon after he left and then got changed. I then gathered together my seven deadly sins paintings, then the other paintings I had brought with me of Luca and placed them out in the garden, along with the rest of the furniture that was still out there. Not a few moments after I threw a match in the bonfire Ben came from the house.
"Hey Ben," I smiled, watching as the flames enveloped the furniture. But mainly the faces of Luca that stared back at me. They were imperfect, I no longer saw the soul I put into them when I painted them. Every painting I painted since I was with Luca; poof.
"Why are you burning your art?" It was a simple question that deserved a simple answer.
"It's imperfect."
"It was brilliant, though. Even if you don't like what you've done you should never throw it away... I've got so much old stuff at my place in Cameron that it fills most of the spare room." he shook his head in disbelief.
I still didn't turn to him. "It was imperfect."
"Why don't you leave me?" I sighed, "everyone else does." This was more in a mumbled, beneath my breath tone. It wasn't a snap decision, I'd been mulling this over for a while and I wanted to run away again. I'm not a fighter.
"Cancer hasn't left either."
"He wants to." I retaliated almost as quickly, I knew he did, I wasn't a fighter.
"No he doesn't. Being negative isn't going to make this any better, is it?"
"I'M NOT A FIGHTER!" I exclaimed, throwing another painting onto the fire, ripping it in the process.
"Who said anything about fighting? I'm talking about being positive and just giving him time, not fighting."
"I'm fighting just to be here! I wanted to run away long ago. Everything I've done was just me trying to find an excuse to escape."
He sighed. "Well, if that's what you really want, then I'm not gonna stop you."
"Why not!?"
"Your call, Gemme, I'm not gonna make your choices for you - I'd be stupid to try."
"Well you should, you did before."
"Personally, I think you should stay, but you know what they say. Can't handle the heat, get out the kitchen, right, can't handle waiting for him to get over it, then don't?"
My heart began to thud in my chest. "You think I wouldn't come find you?" He said that, he did, I didn't believe him and I don't think he would. I looked at Benny and muttered a sorry, "I'm not quite in control of my power again yet."
He shrugged, "its okay. If it's any kind of consolation, you can look at his anger towards the whole thing as a positive thing... means he cares enough to get upset over it. It'd be worse in a way if he didn't care, surely?"
"I don't know if I can do this. He's stronger than me."
"Huh, physically, sure, mentally...?" he trailed off with a sigh. "Look, Gemme. I know he wants to make things better. I managed to get him to talk a bit last night and he really wants to move on, but you know how things stick in his head and eat away at him. Please hang in there... for both your sakes."
"So now I have to carry us both!?" Okay, I admit it, I wasn't quite listening to everything he said, I was still watching the fire, throwing the paintings on at every interval.
"That's not what I said," he muttered calmly, spreading his hands, "I just mean stay sane." He sighed and turned his eyes to the sky. "I should go, I'm probably making things worse the longer I stay."
"Because I'm gonna stay sane on my own, with a man that keeps taking drugs and can no longer touch me." I sighed, "Plus you can't go, Luca needs you as a guinea pig."
"I'm not so sure giving us all amnesia is really the way forward."
"Neither do I, but still, that fire looks so inviting." I sighed.
"C'mon," he muttered, holding out a hand for me, "let's go back inside."
"What is there for me inside?"
He smiled welcomingly, "a nice big brotherly hug and a coffee?" I let out a wordless whine, unwilling to tear myself away from the fire.
"Come on," he smiled warmly, reaching out to put his arm around me.
I still stared at the fire, one painting remained, the one of Luca, with two wings, not one. I laughed in my head at the irony and allowed him to take me inside.
He pulled out a chair for me at the table and turned to the counter, turning on the kettle. "Coffee, or something else?"
"Something that will possibly kill me," I whined, sitting down, my head nestled in my arms.
"Coffee, then, I'm not gonna let you kill yourself, now, am I?"
"Can't die," I moaned.
"I know, but that's still no reason to be even thinking about that kinda thing."
"You remember when you went out looking for me?"
"I hung myself, no one found me I died about seven times."
The mug he had been holding fell to the floor, breaking. "Shit," he muttered, "why? Gemme... Promise me you won't do anything like that again?"
"I wanted someone to find me, declare me dead and I could run away from it all. Gemme Lyniati would be dead."
He stared at me incredulously for a moment before crouching down, sweeping the bits of mug into his hands and dumping them in the bin. "He would have looked for you. If you want him out of your life, tell him and he'll go. Running away won't help."
"If I run away now, he won't look for me."
"Don't be so sure."
"Oh, I'm sure." I countered, as fast as a bullet.
He sat down across from me, giving up on the coffee. Leaning in a little, he tried to get some kind of eye contact as he spoke. "Luca will look for you."
I stared into his eyes, giving him his eye contact. "No. He wouldn't."
His jaw set irritably. "Go on then. Get yourself a car and drive away from here. Run away, see if I'm wrong."
"Fine then, I will!" I growled just as irritably. I got up and grabbed my coat, but not before I slapped him on the way. I persuaded the next door neighbour to give me his Ferrari, I got in and took off, at a comfortable speed, but as my anger escalated so did my driving.


text:
LOS ANGELES -- You could make a good case that Wisconsin's season turned in 12 seconds.
That's how long it took Badgers receiver David Gilreath to run 97 yards after receiving the opening kickoff against then-No. 1 Ohio State on Oct. 16.
"I don't know if it was a turning point," Gilreath said. "It was something that got us going. I still have people asking me about it. I can still watch it on YouTube and kind of get that feeling."
Gilreath's kick return touchdown set the tone for Wisconsin's 31-18 win against the Buckeyes, the biggest victory of the Bret Bielema era and one that spurred the Badgers to their first Rose Bowl appearance in 11 seasons. But the runback was just one of several special moments in the kicking game for the Badgers.
Special teams played an enormous role in Wisconsin's 20-19 win against Arizona State on Sept. 18. Safety Jay Valai blocked a potential game-tying PAT attempt in the closing minutes, and safeties Shelton Johnson and Dezmen Southward stopped Sun Devils kick returner Kyle Middlebrooks just shy of the goal line as the second quarter expired, saving a touchdown.
A week after the Ohio State win came "chain," a fake punt Wisconsin executed from its own 26-yard line while trailing Iowa 30-24 in the fourth quarter. The Badgers continued their drive and scored the game-winning touchdown to edge the Hawkeyes, 31-30.
"In those situations, those were big plays in our game, in our season, to get us where we are today," coach Bret Bielema said.
Special teams likely will loom large again Saturday against TCU in the Rose Bowl Game presented by VIZIO. The Horned Frogs are solid on special teams and exceptional on both kickoff and punt returns, ranking fifth nationally in both categories.
TCU receiver Jeremy Kerley ranks among the top 20 nationally in both kickoff and punt returns. Wisconsin has struggled on both kickoff and punt coverage, ranking 106th nationally and 103rd nationally, respectively, although most of the struggles took place early in the season.
"Turning a weakness into a strength was a major thing we did this year," Wisconsin safety Jay Valai said of the special teams play. "We had a couple [shaky] games there for a second, Arizona State and Michigan State. We really woke up from those games and knew we had to really emphasize special teams."
Gilreath will never forget his runback against Ohio State.
About the only thing that could top it is a return touchdown in Pasadena.
"To get one in this game, I don't even know what I'd do," he said. "I'd turn [to the coaches] and [say], 'I'm done for the game. Take me out.' You've got to go out like [John] Elway or something."