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Dec 8, 2011 at 5:51 am #1282824
Ken T.BPL Member
BPL's community has suffered a great loss with the passing of George Matthews. This is from his son Chad.
George Matthews passed away last Wednesday, November 30th, 2011. His life was cut short around 5:30pm EST after a quick 20 minute run before it got dark.
He was a GREAT father and lived his life for everyone else. He enjoyed talking about his passion (backpacking and running) with everyone on Backpacking Light and I wanted to let you all know.
He will be missed…
Take care everyone.Dec 8, 2011 at 6:21 am #1810000
Art …BPL Member
I'm in shock.
While I never met George in person, I felt I was coming to know him online. He was part of our Grand Canyon Group and I was looking forward to running with him this April.
We'll miss you George.
ArtDec 8, 2011 at 6:41 am #1810008
DougBPL Member
For those interested, a quick Google search turned up his memorial site: http://obits.dignitymemorial.com/dignity-memorial/obituary.aspx?n=George-Matthews&lc=4712&pid=154843845&mid=4905904&locale=en-USDec 8, 2011 at 7:24 am #1810025
W I S N E R !BPL Member
My sympathy to his family.
I've always enjoyed his contributions here…This is really sad. I was looking forward to running with him.Dec 8, 2011 at 7:48 am #1810031
Adam MatthewsMember
Thank you all for the kind words…
ChadDec 8, 2011 at 7:59 am #1810035
David UreMember
This is really sad. My blessings go out to Chad and the family.Dec 8, 2011 at 8:34 am #1810041
David LutzMember
@davidlutzLocale: Bay Area
This is really awful news.
George was a valued contributor to this community, I always clicked on a George Matthews post.
I never met him, but I'm certain I would have enjoyed his company.
My condolences to his family.Dec 8, 2011 at 8:35 am #1810042
Eugene SmithBPL Member
@eugeneiusLocale: Nuevo Mexico
My heartfelt condolences for the Matthews family and friends. What a tremendously bright and positive contributor to this community, his joyful presence will be missed by many I am sure.
Run. In. Peace. George.Dec 8, 2011 at 9:01 am #1810055
Diplomatic MikeMember
@mikefaedundeeLocale: Under a bush in Scotland
RIP George.Dec 8, 2011 at 9:26 am #1810060
Gary DunckelBPL Member
@zia-grill-guyLocale: Boulder
This is distressing news to us all. George was a gentleman, he shared his good insights (and his fun artistry), and he has been a valued member of BPL. His contributions will be missed by many of us.
And as David Lutz said, "I never met him, but I'm certain I would have enjoyed his company."
My condolences to the Matthews family.Dec 8, 2011 at 9:55 am #1810074
Misfit MysticMember
@cooldripLocale: "Grand Canyon of the East"
God bless you and your family in this time of sorrow and loss Chad.
Happy Trails George, but I hope you're not resting; I hope you're hiking or running.Dec 8, 2011 at 10:31 am #1810089
Jeffs ElevenBPL Member
@woodenwizardLocale: NePo
Bad news.
Whenever I saw his posts I always checked his avatar. He always had some monkey face rendition, or some kind of little alien-gnomes, and IIRC his feet we his avatar for a while! (VFFs right?)
You will be missed, George!Dec 8, 2011 at 10:33 am #1810090
Jay WilkersonBPL Member
@creachenLocale: East Bay
I am sad! He will be truly missed. WOWDec 8, 2011 at 10:38 am #1810093
t.darrahBPL Member
@thomdarrahLocale: Southern Oregon
I'm thinking maybe a group picture at the end of the run with a banner stating:
"BPL.R2R2R.2012 / We Ran For George" (or something to that effect)
All runners could sign it and send it to the family.
Just a thought worth considering.Dec 8, 2011 at 11:15 am #1810114
Travis LeannaBPL Member
@t-lLocale: Wisconsin
Terrible news indeed. He will truly be missed.Dec 8, 2011 at 11:43 am #1810126
Miguel ArboledaBPL Member
@butukiLocale: Kanto Plain, Japan
Ach, what terrible news. George was one of the members whose sense of humor and constant turning the seriousness of threads on their heads made so many conversations so much easier to bear and made many of us stop and look at ourselves. The space where his voice spoke here in the forums will be sorely missed.Dec 8, 2011 at 1:05 pm #1810156
Ken HelwigBPL Member
@kennyhel77Locale: Scotts Valley CA via San Jose, CA
So sad to hear. My condolences to his family.Dec 8, 2011 at 3:45 pm #1810215
John S.BPL Member
My condolences to the family. He came across on the forums like a great guy indeed.Dec 8, 2011 at 3:55 pm #1810219
Jason ElsworthBPL Member
@jephotoLocale: New Zealand
I'm so sorry to hear that. He will be missed by our little community and my thoughts are with his family. His posts, especially on threads that were becoming confrontational, always provided a delightful and much needed change in tempo. Let's all think of him next time we are out in the hills.Dec 8, 2011 at 4:32 pm #1810235
Clint HewittMember
@walksoftly33Locale: New England
My condolences.
Jason your post triggered a thought for me, a twist on a common quote.
"Hike with the end in mind"Dec 8, 2011 at 4:34 pm #1810236
Franco DarioliBPL Member
@francoLocale: Tarptent
So sorry to hear that.
deepest condolences to family and friends.
well, most here I suppose..
FrancoDec 8, 2011 at 4:34 pm #1810237
Evan McCarthyBPL Member
@evanrussiaLocale: Mid-Atlantic
Thank you, Chad, for thinking about your father and his love for BPL. He taught the rest of us a ton through poignant gear and life reflections. He will be missed.Dec 8, 2011 at 5:04 pm #1810243
Kathleen BMember
@rosierabbitLocale: Pacific Northwest
I am very sorry to hear this sad news. I never met him but always appreciated his posts. I miss him already.Dec 8, 2011 at 5:23 pm #1810249
Tad EnglundBPL Member
@bestbuilderLocale: Pacific Northwest
Sorry to hear about George, I always appreciated him bringing us back to reality-
One of my favorite posts from George:
>Science? My guess is that there is none.
So, why switch?
A combination of insanity and pure joy.<
My thoughts and prays are with his familyDec 8, 2011 at 6:17 pm #1810264
Mike MBPL Member
@mtwardenLocale: Montana
I was really looking forward to meeting George this April. Like many folks on this site, even having not met them in person, you feel like you know them. George will certainly be missed here.
My deepest condolences to Chad and his family.
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|Chris Hostetter <hossman_luc...@fucit.org>
|BooleanWeight.normalize(float) doesn't normalize prohibited clauses?
|Wed, 10 May 2006 23:39:36 GMT
I'm looking into some of the issues with LUCENE-557 and it seems that a lot of them are triggered by the way BooleanWeight.normalize is implimented... public void normalize(float norm) { norm *= getBoost(); // incorporate boost for (int i = 0 ; i < weights.size(); i++) { BooleanClause c = (BooleanClause)clauses.elementAt(i); Weight w = (Weight)weights.elementAt(i); if (!c.isProhibited()) w.normalize(norm); } } ...since prohibited clauses aren't normalized, they sub-weights don't get their weights set properly, which means that when the Explanation is claculated, they tend to result in an Explanation with a value of "0" ... and since they are prohibited, the Explanation for BooleanQuery thinks that is a good thing. Does anyone know why normalize ignores the prohibited clauses? was that just intended to be an optimization (save time calculating stuff for clauses we don't care about scoring in depth) ... ? -Hoss --------------------------------------------------------------------- To unsubscribe, e-mail: firstname.lastname@example.com For additional commands, e-mail: email@example.com
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We're branching out a bit here in the "How it Should Be" series to include a movie, the big bad Batman 3. Let me just say that Nolan is an absolute requirement for me. I just don't think anyone else will be able to fill his shoes and carry the series in the awesome direction it's been going so far. Another director could try but without the Nolan Brothers behind the story I just don't see how it can live up to Batman Begins much less the Dark Knight. All right, let's dive in.
For the story of batman 3, I'd really like the focus be back on Batman. No doubt about it, the biggest heist in the Dark Knight was the Joker stealing the spotlight, as it should be. The Joker is an amazing character that deserves his own movie and he got it. Not only that but the Dark Knight had a strong cast of characters with their own very personal stories. So much of the second movie was spent following the Joker, Harvey Dent, Rachel Dawes, Jim Gordon and the City of Gotham itself that Bruce Wayne/Batman wasn't even on the screen for half the movie. Don't get me wrong, I think the Dark Knight was perfect as it was, but for the sequel I'd like to follow Batman, see his character, see how Rachel's death affected him. We saw him make the sacrifice of "not being a hero," now let's see the aftermath of that decision. I want to see the deadly weapon he's become. In the dark knight he was outwitted and out matched by the Joker. If not for a handy bit of technology he might never have stopped him. In this one let's see Batman back on top, mentally. At this point in his career he needs to be the master of his craft.
All right, that's our focus. Now for the good part, the Villains! This may seem strange but as a part of the plan to focus on Bruce Wayne, we need a lot of villains. Having many bad guys that we don't get really attached to decreases the likelihood of Batman's spotlight getting taken. It also gives us an opportunity to examine just how awesome Batman really is by setting him up against insurmountable odds.
A fair few people have been guessed that the Riddler and Catwoman will be the two big villains of Batman 3. I think they should certainly be in the movie, but they just don't work as main villains in the vein of Falcone or Ras Al Ghoul and we need big players like that. Why, in a word, Henchies. Batman is best when he's taking down organizations. He gets to crack more skulls that way, and organized crime is probably a bigger threat to Gotham's safety than lunatics in funny outfits (the Joker being the notable exception). Gotham's original organized crime families are left in disarray in the wake of the Joker who personally killed two mob bosses while his disciple (Two Face) killed a third. Naturally some other big criminal organizations are going to try to move in and fill that vacuum of power. That's why I've made my picks for the main villains to be:
Bane: "What!?" you may cry, or at least those of you who aren't familiar with Bane beyond his magical steroids that act like a bicycle pump to his muscles. Bane is a ruthless mastermind with a large highly organized criminal organization. He's no brainless meat head. The muscles are just icing on the deliciously evil cake. His story begins (quite literally) in prison. Anyone who wants a detailed summary of Bane's history can visit the wikipedia page because I'm not going to rehash it here. The focus of this post is the movie Batman 3, so we're going to look at how Bane might fit in there. For the purposes of Batman 3 the Nolans and Goyer would almost certainly focus on the intelligent side of the character while downplaying the Venom-induced super strength. Indeed, if the evil elixir is even makes it into Nolan's ultra-realistic take on batman it would probably be a mixture of adrenaline, dopamine and painkillers (unlocks his natural potential, gives him a slight high, and make him insensitive to pain). A cocktail his lab-boys cooked up for ultimate fighters. The real threat of Bane will be his organization. Bane would be the head of a South American drug cartel trying increase


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Topal Bay
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- For the character, see Topal the Pilot.
Topal Bay, or the Topal Sea, is a bay in the southern part of Tamriel that encompasses the coasts of Elsweyr, Cyrodiil and Black Marsh. It is named after an Aldmer explorer, Topal the Pilot, who discovered the bay, the Nibenay Valley and its many rivers, such as the Niben River. During the Second Era, the Maormer controlled most of the Topal Bay through outposts.
On the shore of the bay lies a number of places worthy of interest, such as the abandoned Crimson Scars stronghold situated on an island jutting out of the coast, Deepscorn Hollow, and Tidewater Cave.


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December 1, 2005Netherlands Institute of International Relations
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The Room
When we were safely out of earshot, I began to direct my thoughts at Dean.
An inn? Really?
Dean looked amused. "Since when did you have high standards?" he asked aloud, deliberately reminding me of the fact that I couldn't talk.
An inn is below even you. And you're quite low.
"Oh thanks (!) I'll remember that next time I ask myself why I let you follow me."
I ignored this empty threat. I appreciate it that it's freezing cold outside but to come here? Why did we have to leave that hotel, anyway? I was enjoying myself there.
"Only because everyone was a cat lover and asked to pet you. You adored the attention. I, on the other hand, was getting sick of those compliant donors whose blood tasted how sop would."
What is it about you and having to drink from resistant people?
"I've told you this a hundred times, Samantha. I like the adrenaline."
He reached the door of the room and unlocked it.
I stepped inside first and almost retched at the smell which infiltrated my nostrils. I ran out.
I can't stay here, I can't.
Dean winced. "You're right - this is pretty bad."
In a flash of motion, he walked over to the window and opened it before returning to the position outside the doorway. He then crouched down and looked into my eyes.
Oh no. Not that.
But he was already transfixing me with those magical copper-coloured eyes. Who would have thought you could hypnotise a cat?
But you're not a cat, he thought in my mind, strengthening the connection I felt when he was using mind control thus drawing me in further. You're a person. And people fall. So fall, Sam. Let go and fall...
I fell.
I awoke upon the single bed. I found I couldn't smell anything. It was quite odd.
Are you going to be okay? I asked, internally grateful that he had removed my sense of smell.
Dean nodded. He was standing by the window, watching the night.
I stood up and stretched. Has my milk been brought up?
Dean smiled and pointed to a bowl near his feet. I jumped off the bed and wandered towards it. I nuzzled against Dean's legs before beginning to lap up the milk, which I found I could taste despite the fact my nose wasn't working.
Afterwards, I returned to the bed and lay down, rolling a few times to release the tension in my muscles.
Night, Dean, I thought sleepily.
"Night Sam." His tone was almost affectionate. But he was a cold-blooded vampire and so emotion didn't come naturally to him.
I considered the shame of this as I drifted off to sleep.


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In which we camp....
"The smell of pine trees, the campfire glowing, the marshmallows cooking, and the breath of crisp cool air are some great things I like about camping but my favorite one of all is camping underneath the stars with lights so brilliant it brightens up the deep blue sky making you feel a sense of peace and tranquility amid the great outdoors."
The sign was carved out of wood. The words Promise Land were glued onto the sign in big wooden block letters that were painted a bright yellow. The edges of the sign were zigzagged with a strip of light blue that looked slightly faded in the sun. This was where we settled to camp. The Promise Land.
As the car turned into the parking lot, I saw a big grassy field. Next to the parking lot was a one-floor, flat roofed, dirty looking white house. On the grassy field next to the white house, there was a large sign that said The Tabernacle. As the car drove onto the grass, we eventually stopped under a small tree near a small creek that ran through the camping site.
"Where is the registration desk?" Mom asked as she got out of the air conditioned car. We watched as she walked over to someone to ask. In a minute she was back.
"They said it was in the main building.That big white one over there." She pointed at the building next to the parking lot. We had to get to the building to register before we could set up our tent. And that meant getting out of the air conditioned car. I reached for my sunglasses, tucked away in my bag and waited for my brother, Thomas, to get out of the car.
"Holy cow, it's hot out!" My brother yelled outside of the air conditioned car.
I scrambled out to see if he was right... Not really.
"It's not THAT bad." I said to him with a small roll of my eyes. That was until I stepped out of the shade. Well, it wasn't that bad without the shade either. You just had to keep moving. Walking at a brisk pace through the parking lot, we rushed to the entrance of the building. And there had to be two doors.That first one looked like it had a sign but it fell over or something. The second one didn't have anything on it. We tried the second one first and it wasn't it. That's when we see someone take that sign that fell over and put it back up.
Camping Registration it said. Annoyed, we opened the first door and was welcomed by a blast of cold air, even cooler than our air conditioned car. The air conditioning was nice and as we stood there cooling off, my little brother, Daniel, saw the snow cone machine. He tugged at the corner of Dad's shirt and pointed at the machine.
" I want one of that." He half-whispered shyly.
"What do you want?" Dad bent down a little not being able to hear my little brother's whisper.
He pointed at the snow cone machine again and whispered a little louder.
"That one."
"Snow cones." I say, noticing that confusion on Dad's face.
"Oh. You want a snow cone?"
My brother nodded. I looked at that flavor sign.
"There's Blue Raspberry, Orange, Watermelon, Cherry, Cotton Candy, Grape, and Bubble Gum. Which flavor do you want?"
He pointed at watermelon.
"Watermelon. I want this one."
I told my dad:
"He wants watermelon."
My dad looks at the person selling the snow cones and asks for a watermelon one. Then he ask if Thomas wanted one and he asked for orange. I had a grape one. With new snow cones in hand, I walked out of the registration building into the heat and back to the car. Someone from the registration desk was giving Mom a tour of the camping grounds and we waited near the car, where Dad found a small bridge that lead into a small island in the middle of the stream entirely shaded by trees. It was the perfect camping ground. But it was unfortunately taken already. The car rumbled to life again as we drove around the camping grounds searching for a place that would be near the bathrooms and also was consistently shaded by trees. Eventually, after driving past the canoe house, we settled for a small area between a large pine and a wall of trees. It would be a squeeze, but the tent would fit.
* * *
Standing outside in the sun wasn't easy. If the heat wasn't bad enough, my feet started to hurt from being in the sun for too long. I had to stand in the shade that was pretty miniscule. The tent was dragged out of the trunk after everything in front of it was unpack, including bags of food and sleeping bags. Setting the tent down, we opened the case and dragged out the flat canopy tent. The tent spread out into a pentagon with each corner cutting into the trees. I grabbed the bag that had the sticks that supported the tent and dumped them out onto the ground. A pile of gleaming red foldable sticks rattled on the ground. I started straightening them out, connecting them together one by one and then my brother guided them through the tubes in the tent and straight through, into the big black centerpiece. Dad secured the sticks in place. Mom was watching when she suddenly noticed that one of the sticks was so much longer than the rest.
"Wait, why is this stick so long?" Then she picked up a another stick. "This one's a lot shorter."
Dad looked at the two sticks in comparison and switched them. Mom seeing that there were still two long sticks on the ground, wondered,
"What do these two sticks do?"
We all had no idea at first. Then both me and my brother thought it was for the windows, and it turned out we were right.
We didn't know where the stakes were and so we thought they were the little short metal sticks on metal rings that were attached to the edges of the tent. We tried using them and they would just come up and the tent would slip again. Frustrated, we thought it was the sand at first, being that we built our tent on compacted sand. But soon we found out that the stakes were actually in a separate bag in the in the tent bag. Finally finishing the tent, we stood there for a little while resting. I saw our beach umbrellas lying on the ground and decided to put them up. Putting up the umbrellas was not as easy as I thought it would be. After multiple attempts at it, I sat down with the umbrella lying on the ground, giving up. The compact ground would not let the thick pole of the umbrella go any deeper than 2 centimeters which was nowhere near the deepness needed to keep an umbrella standing. Dad, seeing the problem took the umbrella and jammed it as hard as he could into the ground. It stood.
Being all setup, we all stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do.
"We shouldn't have come so early. There really isn't that much to do here..." Mom looked around at the camp. "Let's take a walk."
Following Mom, we walked past a large pile of wood surrounded by a circle of logs. It was the bonfire that was not yet lit. We turned onto a large wooden bridge that extended across the wide creek and walked to the other where there were a few wooden cabins and picnic tables. Behind the cabins was an open field that stretched until a line of tall grass where the camping grounds ended. The entire area was for camping and a few tents were already set up there. Walking along the dirt road that followed the line of cabins bordering the creek, we reached a grassy field that turned back over the creek and back to the other side. We stopped on the middle of the grassy road to look at the creek, now only a small strand of water moving sleepily along into a slightly wide pool of water. Mom noticed some fish, but they swam away too fast for me to see. We were met by Thomas who happened to come from the other side of the grass road and it turned out that the grass road led straight to where we were camping. Walking back to our tent we didn't know what to do. Mom took out the paper she was given when we register and looked at the activities part.
"It says you can go canoeing in the small creek. Only 3 dollars for half an hour. But I don't see anyone at the canoe house..."
"Maybe it's at the main building." I suggested.
"Alright, you can go check."
"I wanna row a boat!" My little brother tugged at my shirt complaining. So I took his hand and we both walked back across the parking lot and into the main building. It turned out that you had to ask the people in the main building from a slip to rent a canoe and then they would send a person out to get a canoe for you.
* * *
Thomas joined up with us as we were handed paddles and life jackets. A green canoe was dragged out of the shelves and pushed to the edge of the water. We all climb into the canoe and Mom pushed the canoe into the water. I sat in the back, Thomas in the front and Daniel in the middle. Being the tiller wasn't that easy. My brother was a terrible rower and Daniel couldn't row at all because he was too small. It was hard for me to constantly change back and forth between sides and we constantly ran off course. Thankfully the water was calm so we didn't have a current to paddle against. The area of the creek that could be canoed on was rather small. On one end, tall grass stalks grew high and a low bridge blocked the way. At the other end, the creek narrowed into a thin sliver and ran through a small sewage tube before reaching the other side, where the water was still and dirty. The creek, being so still, smelled pretty bad. First we canoed towards the long stalks, running into land sometimes. I had to constantly yell at Thomas to row harder because he wasn't rowing enough. After reaching the stalks, turning around was a struggle. I tried paddling one way just to have Thomas paddle the other and it turned into a battle of who could paddle harder. It was a struggle and we splashed a little, causing Daniel to get a little wet. He didn't like getting smelly water on him either and started whining and yelling at us not to get him wet. We finally turned and was rowing smoothly back towards the other side. The large wooden bridge that we crossed while taking the walk now loomed over us as we canoed beneath it. We almost ran into one of its large wooden pole as we rowed because Thomas kept on rowing on the wrong side of the canoe and I had to push us away from the pole multiple times with my paddle because we were so close to land.
After turning around and passing through the bridge, we decided to head for the other side. There was another group of people that were also canoeing. As they got neared our canoe, they starting scream,
"Ha! We're the pirates and you're the British and we're going to steal all your money!"
We laughed and rowed a little faster so they wouldn't catch up. At the other end of the creek, we first passed the small island where you could camp on. Then, as the creek turned, we reached a small split in the creek. One led to a small dead pool where the water had obviously been sitting there for quite a while. The other led to a another pool where a smaller, uninhabitable island stood. The island was close to the far side of the creek and it was so close, it could barely fit a canoe. We met Mom on the other side where the island wasn't and she took pictures of us rowing the canoe.
Wanting to take a challenge, we decide to go through the small area of the creek between the edge of the creek and the island. The water there was shallow and it was hard to control a canoe in such a narrow space. The edge of the island was also covered in spiky bushes that jagged up against our boat. At one time, we kept running into a tree that was in front of us being that it was really hard to turn. We finally passed the tree, just to find out that we were barely in water. There was a log that was in the water and the shallowness of the water pushed it up against our canoe and we were practically banked up against a tree. There was nothing to push against but spiked brambles and one of the thorns cut three of my fingers, all in one line.
"Push harder!" I shout at my brother as he paddled, trying to get us off the log. I tried pushing at the mud beneath us but we couldn't move. For a second, I actually thought we would be stranded there not be able to get back to land until someone came to find us. Then, with a large scraping noise, we finally broke loose from the stubborn log. Paddling out of the circuit, we decided to row back towards the bridge. We clambered onto land half an hour later splashed with smelly creek water, hoping the log we got stuck on didn't make too much of a scratch on the canoe.
* * *
While we were going to rent a canoe, our friends Yang Yang and Wei Wei also arrived. They had a huge light green tent that apparently could fit eight people. After rinsing off my feet in a small, dirty shower in the back of a musty-smelling, overheating, leaky public camping bathroom, I rushed back to our tent, unfortunately stepping on the sandy ground with my wet flip-flops. With sand-covered shoes, being worse off than before I rinsed them, I ran to back to meet my family and grab a paper towel there to wipe my shoes off. Yang Yang and Wei Wei were there already, asking their parents nonstop if they could go canoeing, being that they saw us go canoeing that they thought that it looked really fun. Their mom told them that they could go with their dad after they ate.
Canoeing for so long, we were getting hungry and we all sat down on little mats, with an upside down box as our picnic table. Mom brought cold grilled chicken that was soaked in barbecue sauce (bought from a store) and some chips. Yang Yang's mom brought cut sausage, corn and sweetened popcorn. There was supposed to be a shared picnic with everyone who came here to camp, but Mom didn't think that it would really happen so we ate by ourselves anyways.
I grabbed the camera that was sitting in the car and started capturing pictures of everyone. There was at least one picture of everyone.
After our little feast, Yang Yang and Wei Wei both dragged their dad to the main building to rent a canoe. I walked back to our tent to grab my sunglasses I left there and by the time I got back to the dock, they were already back and clambering into the canoe. Both parents somehow fitted into the boat along with Yang Yang and Wei Wei. Daniel, wanting to canoe again, climbed in with them. Thomas just wanted to squeeze in because there were so many people in the canoe and he thought it would be fun to canoe with a lot of people.
I watched them with my parents. They struggled at first, having a hard time being in sync with each other. Sometimes they would end up turning around in circles or just not move at all because everything was so chaotic. In eventually, they were able to row together and started racing with another group of seven kids who all squeezed in one canoe. We could hear them scream and laugh as they plowed through the water trying to beat each other. Later I found out that they raced three times and beat them the first two times. Then apparently they lost because the other team had a ridiculous head start. Even then, he said they almost caught up.
They canoed for only one circuit. It was hard to tow along six people with only three rowers, even if the other three were only little kids. Soon, they were back onto land and the canoe was returned.
* * *
I thought it would be a good idea to blow up the beach ball and play beach volleyball with it on the sandy volleyball courts. Unfortunately, two people was not enough to play volleyball. Next to the bathrooms was a playground. On the other side was the volleyball courts. There was a large concrete platform that faced the bathrooms. A lot of kids were gathered at the playground, playing with each other. There were two wooden swings, both which were the type where a kid sit on each side and they would swing back and forth. Daniel loved going on them, but he was afraid of going too high and would always start screaming as the swing started getting higher and higher. Eventually, Mom had him get off the swing because his screams got so obnoxious and loud.
"Can I have 8 volunteers come and meet me at the playground to set up a few tables? I repeat, can I have 8 volunteers come and meet me at the playground to set up a few tables? Thank you."
We all looked up, little surprised. I saw the person who spoke, put down the microphone of the loudspeakers and walked over to the playground. We stood there and a few people showed up minute later to help with the setup. It turns out there was going to be a group picnic.
Surprisingly, I didn't really want to eat anything really and only was looking forward to the watermelon because it would be a nice refreshment in the heat. Each watermelon slice was huge and by the time I finished my two slices, I had watermelon juice running down my face. I sat on the concrete platform for a moment before I saw something that would have definitely made Thomas very happy: Soda, especially coke.Thomas was already at the table, mixing different sodas together, "cocktailing" them and drinking them in large gulps. I laughed as I poured myself a cup of soda. I looked at all the and had a sudden urge to eat something hot. Minutes later, I was stuffed with hot pepper noodles and soda.
Originally, there was going to be dancing, but no one wanted to because of the heat and so we ended up all watching Karate Kid. Then, in the middle of the movie, someone stopped it to see if people wanted to finish the movie or light the bonfire. Everyone wanted to finish the movie. Unfortunately, I never actually got to see the very end of the movie.
* * *
It is dark out by the time the movie ends and the fire is lit already. Everyone rushes to the fire, where people are handing out sparklers to everyone. Little fireworks are lit and everyone ooh's and ah's as they light up the night. The sparklers send bright sparks that look like little fireflies that float gently onto the ground. Everyone shares the fire from a sparkler to light another and chains of bright sparklers shine in the air. As the fireworks and sparklers burn out, kids rush near the fire with a stick in one hand and a marshmallow on the other. Some have giant chocolate flavored marshmallows, other have small fluffy white ones. Sounds of laughter fill the air as children have fun roasting marshmallows, sometimes taking turns, sometimes having three one a stick. Some children laugh as their marshmallow catches on fire and burns up, eating it in one large gulp. Others try to quickly blow it out as the fire spreads across the marshmallow like a plague. There are children discussing roasting techniques with each other, a professional sound in their voice. Some just stand there, a simple stick in their hand, a marshmallow at the end of the stick,and the stick over the fire, roasting a white fluffy marshmallow.


text:
Celebrate the culture of agriculture & share skills (Growing! Cooking! Eating!)
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1945 ARC Identifier 38336 / Local Identifier 188.3. On the inspection, grading, and butchering of b…
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Dec 8, 2010
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text:
The DitchMature
So my first day was a little rough. So what? I'd only just begun, and I had a lot of naive hope that I would somehow learn to read both Kristen and Bill's minds (or close enough) so that I could do what was asked of me. The next day, Kristen took me to check the Ditch. What's the Ditch, you ask? It took a lot of gleaning, but I eventually learned that it was a man-made river of sorts from all the way back in the 1800's that supported the irrigation of Smit and two other ranches downstream.
Our mission at the Ditch was to monitor the water levels and to look for any fallen debris that might be affecting the flow of water. I rode on the back of Kristen's four-wheeler alongside a dog named Peggy Sue on one of the most unfortunately unkempt roads I'd ever been down. This road had a sign that had been appropriately vandalized to read "Road Maintenance Comes Never." My butt, situated over metal bars spaced a good four inches apart, was really hurting by the time we got there.
We hopped off shortly after passing a sign warning us of grizzly bears, which, from Kristen's point of view, was a mere silly warning a citizen of Harrison had insisted upon erecting. Peggy Sue hopped down. I noticed that she rarely used one of her back legs. I later found out it was due to an injury she had gotten when she was a puppy. She was a likable old black dog with white hair around her eyes and mouth from her age. She was a small dog, though I don't remember quite what her breed was. She was a cross, anyway; I remember that. She was about the size of a beagle but her ears perked up like wolf's. And there was no doubt that she was as fierce as a wolf when it came to helping herd the cattle.
The walk along the Ditch was very pleasant, and it was a trek I would grow familiar with and fond of before my time at the ranch was over. We passed hillsides coated in gorgeous, bright yellow wyethia flowers and a lake that that hid impressive fish beneath the obscurity of its surface. Kristen had made it known that she didn't like pictures taken of her, but I asked her to take some of me in front of a view of towering mountains. I was falling in love with the beauty of Montana.
After the hike, I had lunch back at the ranch house. Chance was there. He asked me how the hike was as if he expected me to have had trouble with it. I'd done quite a bit of hiking in my day, and it had actually been a breeze. I told him that it was beautiful, but it had seemed perhaps a bit long after all; some of the trail was arduous simply for the fact that we had to wade through thick, uncleared brush. He nodded. "Yeah, that elevation. It'll get ya." Actually, it didn't bother me a bit that I had noticed, but I held my tongue. Hard to argue with the embodiment of charm as he flashes his pearly-white smile at you.


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Is this restaurant good for breakfast?
Is this an Italian restaurant?
Is this a Mediterranean restaurant?
Is this restaurant good for brunch?
Is this restaurant wheelchair accessible?
Can a vegetarian person get a good meal at this restaurant?
Is this restaurant family-friendly?
Can a gluten free person get a good meal at this restaurant?
Can a vegan person get a good meal at this restaurant?
Does this restaurant offer takeaway or food to go?
Thanks for helping!
Overpriced, awful decor, toilet facilities ought to be condenmed useless lock. Waitress served pizza to us with long hair in it. Bar staff rude, scruffiest bunch in Cannes overcharged us.
Same experience as others. 2 small Leffe beers and one orange juice cost 17 euro. When I queried the bill which was marked 2 smiroff (not Leffe) the owner became abusive and had to be restrained by other bar staff - all this occurring in front of my wife and 10 year old son. Avoid this bar at all costs....
Service was not at all bad, slightly expensive to eat, range of food average, when I visited pizza was ordered, thin crust was a little bland,left most of it and just ate the topping. A member of staff did come out and ask whether the food was fine so they are trying to lift their customer service. Room for improvement...
We went out in Cannes on our 8th day of our holiday and had a superb night at MaNolans and on for a pizza. On the way back we called of at the Tabac Le Meynadier for a hot chocolate and a pint (500ml) of draught beer. the price was the highest we paid all week anywhere in Cannes. The...
Went there for dinner one night and the place was full of rough looking people and we were surprised that the cook's hands were clean and that when he was cooking he dropped several pots and pans.
When the omelette's came out they were large but quite run of the mill and at the price the bistro charges I was...
Entered Cannes after 6 days on a cruise ship and after finding some wifi and a few hours on the beach, my husband and I wanted a glass of wine at a reasonable price. We walked a few side roads and found Le Meynadier - 3.3e for a glass of wine. Cross street is 7 Rue Marechal Joffre. The place...
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In Reply Dr Roehm requests more information about the gallbladder disease outcome in the WHI trials. The goal of our article was to provide a comprehensive, integrated overview of findings from the 2 hormone therapy trials, including results from extended postintervention follow-up.
Due to the large number of outcomes presented (including primary and secondary adjudicated end points and quality-of-life outcomes), we only had space to present age-stratified analyses for the primary and secondary outcomes. We presented the hazard ratio (HR) for gallbladder disease in the overall cohort for each trial and noted that no significant differences by age group were observed.
Manson JE, Chlebowski RT, Aragaki AK. Hormone Therapy Use and Outcomes in the Women's Health Initiative Trials—Reply. JAMA. 2014;311(4):417-418. doi:10.1001/jama.2013.285163
© 2017


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total lecker
Verified Purchase
total lecker
Toller Geschmack nach Vanille! Wird wieder bestellt :)
My favorite !
Posted by 5445184738201907022 on Jun 11, 2014 | Verified Purchase
I love this oatmeal. I usually mix them wit 30g of plain oatmeal so it balanced the taste. I will order again and again for sure :)
total lecker
Posted by chalalit on Sep 03, 2016 | Verified Purchase
Toller Geschmack nach Vanille! Wird wieder bestellt :)
Excellent Product.
Posted by 5279165842256930853 on May 02, 2015 | Verified Purchase
I've been purchasing this for years locally. But found it here for much less and have begun buying it in bulk just for the price advantage.
Very nice
Posted by Reviewer3144417 on Feb 24, 2011 | Verified Purchase
Wonderfull taste e nutritional Profile.
My Favorite
Posted by Reviewer2078463 on Mar 19, 2010 | Verified Purchase
Lovely flavoured tasty breakfast that satisfies for ages. Which I could get Go Lean products in the UK.
nice sweet taste
Posted by Reviewer2292722 on Mar 01, 2009 | Verified Purchase
sweet taste, but not to sweet and healty
Great Cereal.
Posted by Reviewer3034575 on Sep 07, 2015 | Verified Purchase
Great tasting, the vanilla gives it the right taste.
Kashi, GOLEAN, Creamy All Natural, Instant Hot Cereal, Truly Vanilla, 8 Packets (1.41 oz. 40 g Each) (KSH-74200)
Posted by Reviewer1025972 on Nov 16, 2008 | Verified Purchase
The cereal was very good!
Posted by Reviewer2875419 on Feb 23, 2012 | Verified Purchase
These are yummy. The only thing I didn't realize was that they must be microwaved...as opposed to simply pouring hot water over them.
Quick, easy, tasty
Posted by Reviewer2210544 on Nov 29, 2011 | Verified Purchase
Really good, but a little sweet...
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Mobile Solutions
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Hey! Remember that one time 2, 3, 4... 10! posts ago when I said something funny? When I wasn't all, "Hey, let's talk about God and sadness and things that make me feel like shit." Remember that? Well I think it's time for a little more of it right now. So come, join me in laughing at my pain. Because sometimes, laughing is the only thing that makes it all better.
Where do I start? Oh yes, I know... how about two Monday's ago when I took my preshus, baby boy to his six month check-up.
I KNOW right!? How could I even think of willingly poking many sharp and painful needles into that squishy, smiley, love bug? Oh how I dislike shot-days. But alas, he was schedule for four of them and being a parent who believes in the benefits of modern medicine and my pediatrician, I was going to allow it. Just as they were explaining to me how much pain I would be inflicting on the many rolls of his tender, smooshy baby thighs, they pulled some serious parental-decision-crossroads-bullshit on me and said, "Since he's six months he can get the flu shot now, too." Uh wah?
The mouse began to turn on its wheel inside my brain and I started to feel angsty at having to make this decision. You see, I believe in karmic irony and I knew that if I chose NOT to give him a flu shot then he would most DEFINITELY get viral within 24 hours. But if I DID, he would totally go permanently cross-eyed or something from too many shots in one day. Oh I wanted a way out of this one so bad. I didn't want to subject him to any more needle-pain than necessary, but I also didn't want a flu-ridden infant, either.
Then the doctor threw me teeny shred of a lifeline to release me of my karmic fate and I grabbed on to that sucker like my toddler's wrist in the Target parking lot. She said that this year's flu season has been relatively mild and they stop giving flu shots in mid-March anyway so I had just a little over a month to go and... Peeeerrrrfect! No flu-shot for you my sweet, cherub child! Nu uh, not MEH bebe! No way! Besides, he's too happy and perfect to get sick AND I'm breastfeeding so he has my immunity and I have the flu shot so we'll both be just fiiiiiinnne.
Que thunder.
Twenty-four, muther-effing hours later my husband goes viral. The poor guy was hot and cold flashing for two days while I frantically Googled instructions on how to quarantine our bedroom. I certainly felt sorry for him, but let's face it, there wasn't much I could do. He is a grown man with the ability to find his way to the toilet and I had a brand new, un-innoculated baby with sweet, virginal lungs to protect. I mean, this kid still has his new baby, not-even-one-sniffle-in-his-whole-life smell and everything! I wasn't about to taint his sweet, sweet baby air with my husband's germ-infested, man-virus especially since it was MY decision not to vaccinate the poor thing! Nu uh, NOT MEH BEBE!
But it couldn't be as simple as having an ill spouse and two small children to take care of at home (Ha!). Because that would be too easy for my life. My husband's bed-ridden illness was timed perfectly with a pre-planned three-day weekend in the mountains with his family wherein we had a nonrefundable security deposit. Perfect.
Holy shit the packing. For two adults, one toddler and a baby, our SUV was bursting at its metal seams with everything you could imagine including two cribs, a high chair and a boppy, (because God-forbid we don't have the fucking BOPPY). The morning we were leaving OF COURSE we were running late, why would be doing anything ELSE but running late? As I ran around the house listening to the baby whine because he was overdue for his first nap while my husband held him and hacked phlegm into his perfect little, I've-hardly-ever-even-sneezed-nose, I just started grabbing anything that wasn't nailed down and throwing it out the door. Everything accept my shoes, my jacket, my pillow, my swimsuit (who's elastic hadn't eroded over the winter), and my sanity.
Oh, but as soon as we got in the car I was all awwwwwww, deep breath, it's going to be okay, let's make lemons out of lemonade people! Ahead of me were two peaceful hours of two hands on the wheel with nothing to do but toss sweet or salty snacks into the backseat whenever I heard a whine.
And then... there was uncontrolled toddler-puking. Keeping with the theme of precision timing, it all happened the VERY MINUTE we drove past the LAST exit before the mountain pass. Not only was there projectile vomit and frantic crying, but there was absolutely NOTHING I could do about it for many, many, snow-covered, excruciating miles. And just like that, we had another man down.
My resolve to protect this angel baby's breathe just got a million times harder with a cough-in-your-face, wipe-my-snot-on-everything, puke-where-I-please, toddler running around. Quick! Someone please shower me in vitamin C!! What?! I forgot a bathing suit with non-see-through parts? Son of a...
The next couple days would prove that the toddler just had a nasty cold and NOT the virus o' death my husband had. Phew. At least I dodged that bullet.
Okay then! Vacation over. It was a lovely time and now we're headed back to routine and house cleaning and nursing a sickly toddler back to health. All will be well right?!
Holy shit the UNpacking. As I'm loading the 8th load of laundry into the dryer I start to feel a little... sick. Oh no, not now. "YES bitch, NOW! You, me, the bed, PRONTO!" Said the nasty bug inside my body. And just like that, the baby lost his frontline against attack. I failed you my son, I'm sorry, but Mamma is goin' down.
The next day was what I call, 1st world, I-ain't-got-real-problems-but-this-shit-really-sucks, kind of hell. All I wanted to do was sleep. All I HAD to do was watch a sick toddler and one infant by myself. What happened to sick days? I remember I got at least six of them required by law as an employee? I mean my husband got a couple sick days don't I get a sick day, too? Huh? Pretty please?!
As I'm stumbling through the kitchen in my bathrobe at noon to get the toddler some juice (not this juice, that juice!) I step in a big, milky puddle. What the? As I lift the kitchen mats and follow the trail I find that what I just stepped in, and what my toddler has stepped in and is now tracking all over the carpet, is melted ice cream which is coming from our balmy freezer. You have got to be fucking KIDDING ME RIGHT? I mean YOU'RE KIDDING ME WITH THIS BULLSHIT? RIGHT!?
And the hits just kept coming. My husband's car wouldn't start and something about flooding and oil and $400 later he has new brakes, too. Then the tire went flat on the SUV and we had to get THAT repaired. And to top it ALL off... my husband, the only fully recovered adult this week goes down with ANOTHER virus, this time of the lower half. I just gave up and hung these outside our door.
Today, as I write this, everyone is finally, nearly 100% recovered. And you know what? Through that whole thing that baby never did get sick? Isn't that some crazy shit?
More from parenting


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Get an overview of this hotelSuburban hotel in Goodlettsville with free parking
Popular property highlights
Situated in the suburbs, this hotel is 1 mi (1.7 km) from Manskers Station and 2 mi (3.2 km) from Rivergate Mall. Amqui Station and Visitors Center and Historic Rock Castle are also within 9 mi (15 km).
A 24-hour front desk, free self parking, and free WiFi in public areas are available at this hotel.
Hotel Features
Room Amenities
All 50 rooms offer free WiFi, TVs with cable channels, and free local calls.Information missing or incorrect? Tell us!Opens in a new window
Somatel Goodlettsville Hotel
Hotel Amenities
Hotel Amenities
Wireless Internet access is complimentary. Complimentary self parking is available on site.
- 24-hour front desk
- Total number of rooms - 50
- Number of floors - 1
- Free WiFi
- Year Built 1989
- Free self parking
Available in all rooms: Free WiFi
Available in some public areas: Free WiFi
Free self parking
Room Amenities
- Air conditioning
- Phone
- Free local calls
- Private bathroom
- Shower/tub combination
- Television
- Cable TV service
- Free WiFi
If you have requests for specific accessibility needs, please note them at check-out when you book your room.
- Accessible bathroom
- In-room accessibility
Hotel Policies
Check-in time starts at 3 PM
Minimum check-in age is 21
Check-out time is 11 AM
Payment types
Children and extra beds
- Children are welcome.
- Kids stay free! Children 10 years old and younger stay free when using existing bedding.
- Pets not allowed
You need to know
Extra-person charges may apply and vary depending on property policy.
Government-issued photo identification and a credit card are required at check-in for incidental charges.
Special requests are subject to availability upon check-in and may incur additional charges. Special requests cannot be guaranteed.
- The name on the credit card used at check-in to pay for incidentals must be the primary name on the guestroom reservation.
No rollaway/extra beds available
No cribs (infant beds) available
Hotel Name
- M-Star Goodlettsville
- M-Star Hotel Goodlettsville
- Somatel Goodlestville Hotel Goodlettsville
- M Star Goodlettsville
- Somatel Goodlestville Hotel
- Somatel Goodlestville Goodlettsville
- Somatel Goodlestville
- Somatel Hotel
- Somatel Goodlettsville
- Somatel
- M Star Hotel Goodlettsville
We should mention
Children 10 years old and younger stay free when occupying the parent or guardian's room, using existing bedding.


text: Deal 95 clicks Internet-Only Specials: up to 75% off Save up to 75% off Select Internet-Only Specials at Jackson & Perkins. Your two cents Share USE COUPON Did this coupon work for you? YES NO Share this exclusive offer with others! Copy this link and share it anywhere Copy Tweet Share Add comment Leave the community your two cents … Your name


text:
SVS SB-1000 300 Watt DSP Controlled 12" Ultra Compact Sealed Subwoofer
Model: SB1000BLK UPC: 850071005158 Item: 1583
Questions? We're here to help.
Product Information
Impressively Deep, Clean SVS Bass in an Inconspicuous 13" Cabinet
Like a stick of dynamite, the SB-1000 300 Watt DSP Controlled 12" Ultra Compact Sealed Subwoofer is easy to conceal, but its impact is hard to ignore. It's the most SVS bass that can be condensed into a 13" package. When it's time to party, your music comes to life, bass lines are tight, and drums are never muddy.
Elegantly finished in premium black ash, gloss piano black, or gloss piano white, it fits with any décor. And yet, it's small enough to tuck in a corner if you need to keep it out of the way. To maximize the slam and impact of your home theater (with a minimal footprint), two SB-1000s can be paired, one on either side of the room.
For big movie and music enjoyment in a small package, go with the SB-1000.
Sledge Amplifier STA-300D
The Sledge STA-300D amplifier packs technology and sophistication not found anywhere else at this price point.
This amp features a highly advanced DSP processor offering unmatched control over the subwoofer at all drive levels, for the ultimate in refined behavior. The control knobs are actually digital actuators for precise and noise-free adjustment.
SVS 12" High Output Driver
With SVS, compact and affordable doesn't mean compromising on performance. The 12" driver in the SB-1000 pumps out loads of deep and powerful bass with low distortion, for smooth and accurate performance on music and movies.
- FEA-optimized motor for low distortion
- Long-throw suspension for high output at deep frequencies
- High-power voice coil for excellent thermal management
- Lightweight 12" cone for enhanced sensitivity and transient response
- Rubber surround for durability and long life
- Dimensions (H x W x D): 13.5" x 13" x 14"
- Weight: 27 lbs.
- Driver size: 12"
- Frequency response: 24 - 260Hz ± 3dB
- Front-firing 12" driver
- Sledge STA-300D with 300 watts RMS continuous power (720 watts peak dynamic power)
- 300 watts (720 watts peak dynamic)
- Efficient and cool-running Class D topology
- Green standby mode with > 0.5 watts consumption
- Input impedance: 47kΩ (unbalanced line-level RCA)/2kΩ (speaker level)
- RoHS compliant, lead-free construction, worldwide safety certifications
What's in the Box
What's in the Box:
- SB-1000 300 Watt DSP Controlled 12" Ultra Compact Sealed Subwoofer
- 6 foot power cord


text:
Missing places
They press me into the mold they have shaped,
but I am not longer pliable.
My edges are hard, and spaces once filled
have no room for me now.
The material has become flimsy,
and the transparency clouded,
for this is what happens when you become your own.


text:
MW Reveals Men's Hoops Conference Schedule
Aug. 13, 2012
By Stephen Trembley
FRESNO, Calif. --- The Fresno State men's basketball team has learned its first Mountain West schedule, which features home conference games against four teams that made the 2012 NCAA Tournament.
"We are thrilled about the opportunity of embarking on our journey into the Mountain West, one of the most competitive conferences in the country," head coach Rodney Terry said. "It is a league that produces multiple NCAA bids, high draft picks and some of the toughest venues in college basketball. It's an exciting time to be a part of Fresno State Bulldog Basketball!"
The Bulldogs' first-ever MW game will be on Jan. 9 when Fresno State hosts San Diego State, who was of those four MW teams that played in the 2012 NCAA Tournament.
The other three NCAA Tournament MW teams from last season - Colorado State, New Mexico and UNLV - will visit the Save Mart Center during the middle part of Fresno State's conference slate.
The Rams will come to town on Jan. 26, the Rebels will visit on Feb. 6 and the Lobos will make their way to Fresno on Feb. 13.
Game times and the full television package will be announced at a later date.
The season will culminate with all nine schools playing in the 2013 Mountain West Tournament in Las Vegas at the Thomas & Mack Center from March 12-16.
With three returning starters, including rising junior guards Kevin Olekaibe (17.8 ppg) and Tyler Johnson (9.3 ppg/4.6 rpg), and junior forward Jerry Brown (8.8 ppg/5.5 rpg), Fresno State returns five letterwinners and features the addition of at least seven newcomers. Senior veterans Kevin Foster, Brad Ely and Garrett Johnson will be back for their final seasons in a Bulldog uniform.
The Bulldogs' incoming class is one of the program's top collections of talent in a single class that adds immediate depth to Terry's roster. All of the newcomers have a chance to compete for immediate playing time.
The class is comprised of junior guard Allen Huddleston (who sat out last season as a Division I transfer), sophomore forward Braeden Anderson and currently five freshmen - Aaron Anderson, Tanner Giddings, Marvelle Harris, Broderick Newbill and Robert Upshaw. All of the incoming players enrolled at Fresno State for the 2012 summer session and began working out as much as allowed by the recently updated NCAA guidelines.
For fans looking to support Fresno State student-athlete scholarships and secure 2012-13 men's basketball season tickets, packages are available for as low as $149 through The Bulldog Foundation ($99 for Level 7 season tickets and a minimum donation of $50) by calling 559-278-7160.
Fresno State's 2012-13 Mountain West Conference Games (Men's Basketball)
Jan. 9: vs. San Diego State (WED)
Jan. 12: at New Mexico (SAT)
Jan. 16: vs. Wyoming (WED
Jan. 19: vs. Nevada (SAT)
Jan. 23: at Boise State (WED)
Jan. 26: vs. Colorado State (SAT)
Jan. 30: at Air Force (WED)
Feb. 6: vs. UNLV (WED)
Feb. 9: at San Diego State (SAT)
Feb. 13: vs. New Mexico (WED)
Feb. 16: at Wyoming (SAT)
Feb. 19: at Nevada (TUES)
Feb. 23: vs. Boise State (SAT)
Feb. 27: at Colorado State (WED)
March 2: vs. Air Force (SAT)
March 9: at UNLV (SAT)
March 12-16: Mountain West Tournament (Thomas & Mack Center, UNLV - LAS VEGAS)
Note: Home Games Listed in BOLD. All played at the Save Mart Center.
"Discover Fresno State Athletics!" - The flagship radio station of the Fresno State men's basketball team is KMJ 580 AM and the Spanish Flagship is KGST-AM ESPN Deportes. Be sure to follow @RodneyTerry on Twitter for updates throughout the year about the team, recruiting trail and upcoming season. Remember to vote every day for Fresno State at www.ESPN.com/CollegeColorsDay and wear your Bulldog red on Aug. 31 for College Colors Day.


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FL lines
|This article does not cite any sources. (May 2013) (Learn how and when to remove this template message)
|Transit type
|Commuter rail
|Number of lines
|Number of stations
|Began operation
|System length
|672 km (417.6 mi)
|Track gauge
|1,435 mm (4 ft 8 1⁄2 in) standard gauge
|3 kV DC, overhead line
The FL lines, formerly Lazio regional railways (Italian: ferrovie regionali del Lazio) consist of 8 commuter rail lines operated by Trenitalia, converging on the city of Rome.
The lines FL1, FL2 and FL3, particularly in areas closer to Rome, function like a rapid transit service, integrated with the Rome Metro and surface transportation. The other lines (numbered from FL4 to FL8) are served by traditional regional trains, and used almost exclusively for commuter traffic.
All eight lines are considered regional trains by Trenitalia. On timetables and departure boards at the stations the trains are marked with the letter R (Regional). The numbering of the lines (FL1, FL2, ...) appears only in some informational materials and on the signs of some stations. However, in the ATAC network, the numbering appears in all network maps.
- FL1 Orte ↔ Fiumicino Aeroporto
- FL2 Roma Tiburtina ↔ Tivoli
- FL3 Roma Ostiense ↔ Viterbo Porta Fiorentina
- FL4 Roma Termini ↔ Frascati / Albano Laziale / Velletri
- FL5 Roma Termini ↔ Civitavecchia
- FL6 Roma Termini ↔ Cassino
- FL7 Roma Termini ↔ Minturno-Scauri
- FL8 Roma Termini ↔ Nettuno
Sections with one train every 15 minutes:
- Fiumicino Aeroporto - Fara Sabina (line FL1)
- Roma Ostiense - Cesano di Roma (line FL3)
Sections with one train every 30 minutes:
- Fara Sabina - Poggio Mirteto (line FL1)
- Roma Tiburtina - Lunghezza (line FL2)
- Cesano - Bracciano (line FL3)
- Roma Termini - Civitavecchia (line FL5)
Sections with one train every 60 minutes:
- Poggio Mirteto - Orte (line FL1)
- Lunghezza - Tivoli (line FL2)
- Bracciano - Viterbo Porta Fiorentina (line FL3)
For travel between stations in the City of Rome, ticketing is integrated with the Metrebus Rome system. A passenger may use the integrated ticket "BIT" from 1,50 € (valid for 100 minutes) or any other type of integrated ticket or Metrebus pass; in addition, Trenitalia sells special "Anello" tickets where one may travel on any Trenitalia train within the City of Rome with a single 0.90 € ticket (valid for 90 minutes). The "Anello" and the Metrebus Rome tickets are only valid within Rome, bounded by the stations: Capannelle (FL4 and FL6), Cesano di Roma (FL3), Fiera di Roma (FL1), Lunghezza (FL2), Roma Aurelia (FL5), Settebagni (FL1) and Torricola (FL7 and FL8).
For all trips that take place outside the "Anello" ring, or that cross through the ring, the typical regional mileage rate applies.
See also[edit]
- History of rail transport in Italy
- List of railway stations in Lazio
- Rail transport in Italy
- Transport in Rome
- Paolo Blasimme: Il treno-metrò di Roma. In: ″Italmodel Ferrovie″ Nr. 139 (May–June 1968), p. 4520–4525.
- G. De Grisantis: Il servizio urbano FS a Roma. In: ″Italmodel Ferrovie″ Nr. 203 (April 1977), p. 234–238.
- Marcello Cruciani: Roma per i suoi pendolari. In: ″I Treni″ Nr. 152 (September 1994), p. 26–28.
External links[edit]
Media related to Ferrovie Regionali del Lazio at Wikimedia Commons


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-Library Journal
Ghosts of Warby George Mann
Ghosts of War picks up the story a month after the end of Ghosts of Manhattan. New York City is being plagued by a pack of ferocious brass raptors – strange, skeleton-like creations with bat-like wings that swoop out of the sky, attacking people and carrying them away into the night. The Ghost has been tracking these bizarre machines, and is close to finding their origin: a deranged military scientist who is slowly rebuilding himself as a machine.
However, this scientist is not working alone, and his scheme involves more than a handful of abductions. He is part of a plot to escalate the cold war with Britain into a full-blown conflict, and he is building a weapon – a weapon that will fracture dimensional space and allow the monstrous creatures that live on the other side to spill through. He and his co-conspirators – a cabal of senators and businessmen who seek to benefit from the war – intend to harness these creatures and use them as a means to crush the British.
But the Ghost knows only too well how dangerous these creatures can be, and the threat they represent not just to Britain, but the world. The Ghost's efforts to put an end to the conspiracy bring him into an uneasy alliance with a male British spy, who is loose in Manhattan, protecting the interests of his country. He also has the unlikely assistance of Ginny, a drunken ex-lover and sharpshooter, who walks back into his life, having disappeared six years earlier in mysterious circumstances.
Suffering from increasingly lucid flashbacks to WWI and subjected to rooftop chases, a battle with a mechanized madman, and the constant threat of airborne predators, and with the fate of the world hanging in the balance, can the Ghost derail the conspiracy and prevent the war with the British from escalating beyond control?
From the Trade Paperback edition.
Editorial Reviews
-Library Journal
Product Details
- 9781616143688
- Publisher:
- Prometheus Books
- Publication date:
- 07/05/2011
- Sold by:
- Penguin Random House Publisher Services
- Format:
- NOOK Book
- Pages:
- 232
- Sales rank:
- 380,424
- File size:
Read an Excerpt
Ghosts of WarA Tale of the Ghost
By George Mann
Prometheus BooksCopyright © 2011 George Mann
All right reserved.
Chapter OneHe was falling.
Tumbling out of the sky, his arms wheeling as the air rushed past him, his black trench coat billowing open around him like a single black wing.
He gasped for breath, but his lungs failed to respond: the blow that had sent him careening over the lip of the building had knocked the wind out of him, causing his stomach muscles to spasm and leaving him struggling to breathe. His heart was thrumming like a beating drum, pounding in his ears, drowning out the sound of everything else: the roar of the biplanes that soared through the sky on spikes of yellow flame, the coal-powered cars that hissed and sighed as they barreled down the avenues, the chattering of the bizarre mechanical things that had sent him spiraling toward his death. It was as if he had been cocooned inside a bubble, as if the rest of the world had been shut out and all that was left was him and the rush of the sidewalk that was coming up to meet him. Falling had become everything. There was nothing else.
He blinked. Raindrops sparkled in bright flashes of neon light, glimpsed in flickering snapshots as he tumbled over and over. He felt unconsciousness tugging at him, threatening to overwhelm him. Blackness swam at the edges of his vision. If he allowed himself to give in to it, to welcome its embrace, then everything would be over. It would only take a second.
For a moment, the Ghost thought that might not be such a bad idea. These days, he didn't have much to live for, save for the anger—that constant, burning fire in the pit of his stomach—and he wondered whether it might not be better to allow that fire to burn itself out. Better for everyone. Better for him. To surrender to it would be easy.
The Ghost felt the needles of rain lashing his face, felt it sting his eyes, wished it could somehow cleanse him of the things he had seen and done. He wanted it to be over. He wanted peace.
Then, suddenly, his lungs were working again and he was sucking at the air, dragging at it in grateful gulps. The sounds of the city permeated his bubble. He had only seconds left in which to act. He moved almost mechanically, his instincts taking over. There were people up there who needed him. He had that much to live for, at least.
The Ghost, still tumbling and spinning as he fell, reached inside the lapel of his trench coat and fought to disentangle a thin cord from among the buckles and straps of his black jacket. He yanked it hard and felt his entire body jerk as the twin canisters strapped to his calves ignited with plumes of bright orange flame and he was propelled sideways into the building.
He slammed against the wall, striking his right elbow hard while cushioning his face in the crook of his arm. He called out in pain—a short, sharp wail—and then forced himself to ignore it, to bury it until later. He rebounded, continuing his plummet toward the ground, arcing away from the building on a streak of flame as his rocket boosters propelled him through the air at a tremendous speed. He was only twenty feet from the ground. If he got the next move wrong, all he'd have succeeded in doing was hastening his own demise.
Mustering all of the strength that he had left, the Ghost angled his body, twisting in midair, forcing his legs down and around so that he was upright once again. He bucked and flailed as the upward momentum of the rocket canisters fought against the momentum of the fall. He slowed in midair, almost lost his balance, and then he was streaming upward again, riding on twin spikes of flames as he shot through the sky toward the two raptors who had forced him off the roof.
He looked up and saw nothing but scintillating raindrops and the top of the building, silhouetted against the moonlit sky. In the distance, the searchlights of numerous police dirigibles played back and forth across the rooftops, monitoring the streets, vigilant for any sign of the brass monsters. As usual, they were too slow and ponderous, and had failed to spot the twin raptors that had descended on Fifth Avenue to pluck two unwary citizens from the street.
The Ghost had been there, however, watching from his favorite vantage point atop his own apartment building, and had opened fire on the mechanical creatures as soon as he'd been able to get a clear shot—the result of which meant he had ended up being knocked over the side of the building during the ensuing tussle as the creatures descended on him, their talons bared.
He only hoped he wasn't too late. He'd been trying to follow one of the things back to its lair for weeks, but they were simply too fast, and he had yet to discern any obvious weakness. Not only that, but there were also the abductees to consider. If he could prevent the raptors from getting away with two more innocent people, he had no choice but to stand his ground.
The Ghost had lost his hat in the fall, and the rain plastered his sand-colored hair across his face. His goggles were pushed up on his forehead, and he reached up and pulled them down sharply over his eyes, welcoming the protection they offered from the rain and the definition provided by their night vision.
As he came up over the lip of the building he caught sight of one of the civilians, squirming in the grip of a raptor's talons as it lifted her off the roof once again and pitched forward into the air. The other was nowhere to be seen.
The Ghost leaned into the gusting rain and shot across the rooftop, slewing around a pyramidal skylight to careen bodily into the back of the raptor.
The mechanical creature screeched in fury as it was bowled forward, nearly dropping the woman as it freed one of its talons and twisted around, trying to rake at the Ghost furiously as he grabbed hold of two of its brass ribs and held on with all his might, trying to force the thing back down onto the rooftop. The woman screamed and held on to the raptor's other talon with both hands, dangling over a hundred-foot drop to the street below.
The raptor beat its batlike wings, trying to shake off the vigilante, who held on despite the claws that raked at his face or scrabbled at his forearms, trying desperately to pry him free.
This was the closest he had come to one of the things, and he was at once appalled and amazed by the artifice on display. It was about the size of a large man, vaguely humanoid in appearance, but with a skeleton constructed out of gleaming brass components. Two large cylinders sprouted from its shoulders, housing spinning propellers—the engines that enabled it to fly. The wings were like those of an enormous bat—taut, pink flesh stretched over elegant fingers of brass; there, he supposed, to guide its flight. Its head was a brass skull, reminiscent of that of a large cat, with long, jagged fangs and an absent lower jaw. Somewhere in its belly the power unit hummed and crackled with a powerful electric charge.
Most disturbing of all, however, were the pentagrams and weird occult symbols daubed on its chest plate, which appeared to house a small cavity hidden behind an ornate brass door, and the fragments of what looked like human bone incorporated into its skeletal frame. Its eyes burned a demonic red, as if signifying a fierce intelligence.
The Ghost had no idea where the things had come from, but they had been terrorizing the city for weeks, if not longer. For the last two months people had been reporting dead birds found all over the city, pigeons and gulls shredded midflight, dropping to the pavement like gruesome, feathery bombs. The raptors, the Ghost had discovered, were the cause of it. The birds were being chewed up by the raptor's propellers, sucked in by the back draft and spat out again as the brass monsters soared through the sky above the city streets. As yet he had no idea of the creatures' purpose, their numbers, or their origin, nor the reasons why they continued to abduct seemingly random members of the populace, but he intended to find out.
The raptor's talon flashed as it struck out at the Ghost, catching him fully in the chest and forcing him back, straining against his hold. Grimacing as the sharp brass claws punctured the fabric of his jacket, burying themselves in his breast, the Ghost released his grasp on the ribs and clutched for the talon instead, swinging his legs up and round so that the angle of his booster jets was countering the pull of the raptor's engines.
The three figures drifted almost lazily across the rooftop, twisting and turning as the Ghost and the raptor fought for dominance. The creature emitted a chattering howl as it battered at the Ghost's head and arms, scratching and pulling, trying frantically to get away. Below, dangling from the raptor's other leg, the woman continued to scream in terror.
The Ghost knew the ammunition from his fléchette gun—the projectile weapon he had strapped beneath his right arm on a ratchet—would do nothing to harm the brass creature. Even the explosive rounds he had developed to combat the lumbering moss golems of the Roman would bounce off its metal frame, finding little or no purchase. But he needed to find a way to slow it down.
The raptor beat its wings again, the barbed metal tips and fleshy membranes striking the Ghost full in the face, disorientating him as he hung upside down clutching the raptor's clawed foot. But it gave him an idea.
Straining to twist himself around, the Ghost released his right arm and flicked his wrist sharply, causing the long steel barrel of the fléchette gun to snap up and around on its ratchet, clicking into place along the length of his forearm. The rubber bulb that served as a pneumatic trigger dropped into his palm. He paused for a moment, took aim, and fired.
A hail of tiny metal blades scattered from the end of the barrel, showering the raptor and causing it to reel suddenly, confused by the suddenness of the attack. The blades bounced harmlessly off its metal face and chest, just as the Ghost had anticipated, but where they struck the fleshy membrane of the raptor's left wing they tore through, opening large rents and causing the mechanical beast to wail in frustration.
Together, the three figures began to spin wildly out of control as the raptor's wing flapped uselessly at the air, unable to maintain the status quo any longer. It screeched and scrabbled, and then, as if realizing it needed to lose some ballast to remain airborne, casually tossed the woman away as if shedding a dead weight.
Horrified, the Ghost watched her tumble away across the rooftop like a discarded rag doll, striking the paving slabs and rolling, unable to slow herself as she bounced over the low lip of the roofline and went sliding over the edge. The Ghost heard her cry out and strained to see as the raptor spun around crazily in the air, then realized with some relief that she had managed to catch hold of a flagpole and was dangling over the side of the building. Beneath her was a hundred-foot drop, and the rain, still lashing them in a relentless torrent, made it harder to hold on. He didn't have long before she'd be dashed on the sidewalk below, but there was still time to save her.
Cursing loudly, the Ghost released his grip on the raptor's leg and peeled away from the creature, bleeding profusely from the scores of scratches that marred his face and arms. Righting himself, he pulled the cord inside his trench coat to cut the fuel line, and the flames at his ankles guttered and died. He dropped quickly to the rooftop, hitting the slabs on his side and rolling to a stop about ten feet away from the baying raptor. The creature landed softly on its clawed feet and cocked its head, regarding him as if trying to work out his next move.
The Ghost cursed again and climbed quickly to his feet. This was his best chance. The thing was damaged, its wing a mess of brass spines and ragged flesh. That would slow it down, and if he followed it now it might lead him to its lair. If he could find out where the things were nesting, who was controlling them, and why, he could save innumerable lives. Perhaps even the lives of those already taken, if they weren't already dead.
That would mean sacrificing the woman, though, and even though the odds were against her, even though it meant other people might have to die, the Ghost couldn't simply leave her to fall. He'd never be able to live with himself if he abandoned her there, dangling from the flagpole, preparing to tumble to her death.
Refusing to take his eyes off the raptor, he backed up toward the lip of the building. He saw the creature start forward, as if it were intending to follow him, and for a moment he thought his luck might be in, that it might rush him across the rooftop, leaving him enough time to haul the woman to safety before continuing the fight. But he realized with dismay that it was trying only to get enough momentum to launch itself into the air. It staggered forward, skipped lightly over the flagstones, and then came down again. Then, on its second attempt, it got itself airborne once more and dropped over the side of the building, banking sharply as it soared away into the rain-soaked night.
Sighing, the Ghost turned to the woman, whose upturned face was stark and white and scared, gleaming in the silvery moonlight. She was clutching the flagpole with both hands, but he could see that her arms were already growing tired with the strain, her fingers beginning to slip on the wet metal pole.
The Ghost dropped to his knees, bowing his head against the rain so that it sprayed off his upturned collar, and reached down over the side of the building, grabbing the woman by the arms. He hauled her up, slowly and carefully, without saying a word.
She was as light as a feather—thin and pretty—and he could see how absolutely terrified she was by the ordeal. He pulled her over the lip of the building and dragged her to safety.
Then, kneeling on the rooftop in the driving rain, he allowed her to wrap her arms around him and clutch him tight, sobbing on his shoulder as she trembled with fear and relief. She felt as fragile as a bird as he wrapped his arms around her to protect her from the storm.
"Who are you?" she whispered, after a few moments. She looked up at him, studying his face for any clues. Her mascara had run in the rain, streaking her face with tributaries of black ink.
He turned his head, searching the sky for any sign of the raptor. He was too late. It was gone.
"I'm no one," he replied, his voice low. "No one but a ghost."
Excerpted from Ghosts of War by George Mann Copyright © 2011 by George Mann. Excerpted by permission of Prometheus Books. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Meet the Author
George Mann is the author of Ghosts of Manhattan, The Affinity Bridge, The Osiris Ritual, and The Human Abstract, as well as numerous short stories, novellas, and an original Doctor Who audiobook. He has edited a number of anthologies including The Solaris Book of New Science Fiction and The Solaris Book of New Fantasy and a retrospective collection of classic Sexton Blake stories, Sexton Blake, Detective. He lives near Grantham, UK, with his wife, son, and daughter. You can follow him on Twitter at twitter.com/George_Mann.
From the Trade Paperback edition.
Customer Reviews
Average Review:
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
See all customer reviews
In 1927 Gabriel "The Ghost" Cross patrols New York City to keep the residents safe from evil. Though he wants to take time out to grieve the death of his beloved Celeste who saved the world (see Ghosts of Manhattan), the vigilante avenger knows he cannot. The city has seen a series of kidnappings reportedly by flying machines dubbed raptors. The police are stymied as there is no apparent link between the victims except for the city. The Ghost assisted by his friend Police Inspector Felix Donovan try to capture one of these terrorizing mechanical kidnappers. At the same time Felix hunts a British agent whose information will cause the third war between the former colonies and the mother country. Soon the two seemingly divergent cases merge as the Ghost decides on a dangerous ploy to end the mounting terror. George Mann provides a fun throwback pulp science fiction thriller. With plenty of rooftop activity and lucid flashbacks by the Ghost to WWI, the story line is action-packed and incredibly fast-paced as the author takes no prisoners with this entertaining save Manhattan tale (Ruth and Gehrig save the Bronx). Harriet Klausner
This book wasnt as good as the first in the series but its still a good read.


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Camshaft upgrade
I'm looking to put a camshaft in my 1998 5.2l v8 and i was looking at a hydraulic roller with around a .500 give or take on intake/exhaust and around a 265 duration. With these specifications should I need to replace anything else like valve springs and what not? Thanks.
Yeah, replacing the springs will need to happen. Check the pushrod length as well; you may need to change those, too.
Definitely change springs, the stockers will never hold up. Definitely upgrade the pushrods. Stock length should be okay, but you definitely want stronger ones. The added lift vs heavier spring loads will induce flex in the stockers. That's the last thing you need as the rpm's rise. I'd also add hardened valve spring retainer locks. It's cheap insurance. Also, expect to need computer mods. Sounds like CompCams Xtreme Energy XR265.
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March 27, 2006
As major corporations squander customers' trust in their security measures, small businesses are being advised to tighten security and privacy procedures. The Council of Better Business Bureaus (CBBB) is launching an education effort to provide smaller businesses with the tools to lock down vital data.
Small businesses "often believe they're better protected than they really are, because they don't have in-house experts to advise them on what else they should be doing beyond locking up their storefronts," said Steve Cole, president and CEO of the Council of Better Business Bureaus.
"It's difficult for them to know where and how to access support. This makes us all vulnerable, as small businesses are a strong part of our economy. Business owners of all sizes need to be vigilant in protecting their customers, their employees and themselves," he said.
The BBB's program is designed to demystify the complexities of data security and give small businesses a non-technical roadmap to securing their customer data.
The national program includes free, easy-to-read security and privacy toolkits, with separate kits focused on customer and employee data protection. The customer data kit is available now, and the employee kit will be released in the fall.
In addition, the program will feature a downloadable "webinar" featuring key topic experts, plus ongoing updates about new security and privacy developments that affect small businesses. The educational materials are accessible online at: www.bbb.org/.
The program was developed in partnership with two privacy and security experts -- Dr. Alan F. Westin, founder of Privacy & American Business, consulting with Dr. Lance Hoffman, Distinguished Research Professor, George Washington University Department of Engineering and Applied Science. Hoffman also founded GW's Cyberspace Policy Institute, serving as its director for seven years.
As a first step, the toolkits will be distributed through the 116 local Better Business Bureaus (BBB) across the country, reaching a potential audience of 380,000 small businesses and thousands of other small businesses nationwide.
The program is being supported by IBM, Visa U.S.A., Equifax, Verizon Wireless, The Wall Street Journal, eBay and PayPal.
The high profile data breaches at major corporations have largely eclipsed small business vulnerabilities. Yet, a 2005 survey by the Small Business Technology Institute reports that more than half of all small businesses in the U.S. experienced a security breach in the last year.
Nearly one-fifth of small businesses do not use virus-scanning software for e-mail, over 60 percent do not protect their wireless networks with encryption, according to the study, and two-thirds of small businesses do not have an information security plan. Small businesses, overall, make reactive purchase decisions in relation to information security, and usually purchase products only after suffering an information security incident.
"Small business owners are focused on running their businesses, but all it takes is one data breach to damage customer relationships and impact their bottom line," said Dr. Alan Westin. "Our initiative encourages small retailers to take ownership of their responsibilities, to develop a privacy and security policy, and implement an action plan that makes privacy and data protection an integral part of their everyday business operations. This will pay off for them across the board."


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Willie Young, DE, Detroit Lions
Willie Young, DE, Detroit Lions
The Giants have earned two Super Bowl wins in recent years in large part due to their great pass rush. It's a copycat league, and teams like the Detroit Lions have been following suit, acquiring as many quality pass rushers as possible.
The starting defensive ends in Detroit, Cliff Avril and Kyle Vanden Bosch, recorded 20 sacks last year. When one of them needed to rest, last year's Lions Secret Superstar, Lawrence Jackson, came in and the quality of play remained high. Throw in Ndamukong Suh and his +9.3 pass rush rating and 2011's first-round pick Nick Fairley as the interior linemen, and you have a pass rush that will keep opposing quarterbacks up at night.
With so many star players, it might surprise you to find the one with the highest overall rating on the Lions' defensive line in 2011 was Willie Young. Usually, players drafted in the seventh round don't make much of a name for themselves–and with how little Young gets to play it will be hard for him to–but when he is on the field, you will likely catch him making plays.
Struggling for Playing Time
Young was drafted with the 213th overall pick in the 2010 draft from North Carolina State, where he saw significant time all four years and recorded 46 tackles for losses with 20 sacks. The problem was the Lions already had Cliff Avril and Turk McBride on the roster from the previous year. Kyle Vanden Bosch was added earlier in the offseason to be reunited with Jim Schwartz.
During training camp, the Seahawks were shopping Lawrence Jackson after two years of not living up to his first round hype. The Lions traded a 2011 sixth-rounder for him. You could make a case for Young being the sixth defensive end option on the depth chart because the Lions moved Andre Fluellen from defensive tackle to defensive end for 62 snaps. With so many players ahead of him, it's a little surprising Young made the active roster. He was kept inactive for all but two games in his rookie season; seeing a total of seven defensive snaps, most of which were near the very end of the last game of the season.
Breakout Pass Rusher
The Lions decided not to re-sign McBride last offseason and he went to the New Orleans Saints. This bumped Young up to the fourth defensive end spot, a place on the game day roster, and playing time. During the 2011 season, Young's share of the defensive snaps fluctuated between 14% and 28%, depending on how often the other team was throwing the ball. The two exceptions came in Weeks 8 and 16 in blowout wins against the Broncos and Chargers where Young saw more playing time than usual in the fourth quarter.
Of all 4-3 defensive ends with at least 100 pass rushes, Young had the fourth-highest Pass Rushing Productivity rating (13.4, behind just Trent Cole, Jason Babin, and Chris Long) bringing pressure on one of every six plays. While it's impressive how often he gets to the quarterback, it is how he does it and when he has that has made him especially interesting. He lined up on the left side for over 86% of his pass rushes, going up against the opposing right tackle. He has shown both the strength to engage the right tackle and push him right back into the quarterback and the speed to just run around the blocker.
Either one of these moves gets to the quarterback quickly. This is easiest to see in his two games against the Bears. In those games he recorded a sack and five hurries. On five of those six plays, the pressure came within two seconds of the snap. For another example, in the Week 6 game against the 49ers it only took him a second and a half to get to Alex Smith. Smith saw this, and threw the ball to avoid the sack, but Young batted it away.
Not only has Young shown he can get to the quarterback quickly, but also when the team needs him to make plays the most. In Week 4, the Lions played the Cowboys, and one of our Rookie of the Year candidates Tyron Smith was shutting down Cliff Avril all day. On 40 pass rushes Avril couldn't record a single pressure. When the closing minute of the game was at hand–and Dallas needed a touchdown for the win, but didn't have any time outs left–it was Young on the field at left defensive end. He drove Smith back, forced him to the ground, and recorded the sack. The Cowboys then had 20 yards to go for a first down and a ticking clock. Needless to say, the Lions won.
A team doesn't need a big play anytime more than in the playoffs, and that's where Young had his biggest. Against the Saints with the game tied 7-7, it was Young who got to Brees and forced a fumble.
Hints of a Complete Game
When it comes to pass rushing, Young has shown he can do it all in just one year as a part time player. While it's too early to call him an All-Pro because of the small sample size, it is certainly enough to want to see what more he can do. Against the run, though, the sample shrinks further; Young played just 101 run defense snaps in 2011, so he hasn't gotten much of a chance to show what he can do. In that time he has notched just one tackle for a loss with three more for just short gains. He's also had a number of other plays where he causes problems for the offensive line or tight end without being the player that ultimately makes the tackle. His biggest problems in the run game have come when a tight end or fullback blocks him instead of the right tackle. So far, the positive plays he has made have outweighed the negative.
His Future
Right now, Young remains the fourth defensive end on the depth chart. Cliff Avril has yet to sign his franchise tender, and the two sides haven't come close to working out a long-term deal yet. After this year Lawrence Jackson is a free agent, and at Kyle Vanden Bosch's age and salary, he might not live out the last year of his contract. While Young is stuck at No. 4 for now, it shouldn't be too much longer before he gets his time to shine. Until then, the Lions should be very happy with the depth they have at the position.
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Nathan Jahnke | Director of Analytics
Nathan has been with Pro Football Focus since 2010. He is the Director of Analytics, an NFL analyst, and a fantasy writer.
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Bill Clinton didn't have 'em with Monica L.
Accordin' to himself
by Pwn20r2!!! March 10, 2005
The Urban Dictionary Mug
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Interactions involving sexual behavior with another person, or other people including, kissing, petting, humping, making out, sex, anal sex, oral sex, rimming, t bagging, fucking, licking, hickeys, sucking.
Wow is that girl president of the celibacy club? Clearly not because shes having sexual relations with that random guy!
by Celibategirl March 18, 2009