Thoughts and musings 24 hours after a long day traveling from Atlanta back to Phoenix:

Atlanta isn’t my favorite town by a long shot, but it’s even less attractive when cloudy and cold as it was the majority of my visit. The sheer amount of traffic, and the difficulty drivers face trying to get anywhere – and I do mean ANYWHERE – never ceases to amaze me. I’ve seen the same kind of traffic elsewhere – for example, in Orange County – but at least that’s California, and if you can get to it, the ocean isn’t that far away. There’s nothing alluring about Atlanta and it’s never-ending sprawl. Forbes ranks it as the 16th most miserable city in America. Maybe, but I’d bump it up at least a few notches.

The most unhappy people I’ve ever watched seem to be those who ride on the MARTA train to and from the Atlanta airport. I guess they know what miserable really means.

US Airways is, at least in my view, the Atlanta of airlines. It’s bad enough to have to travel to Atlanta on any airline, but somehow US Airways just puts a cap on it. The employees are not friendly, their service sucks, and how they arrange travel boggles the imagination. Take yesterday for instance: Atlanta is a major city, correct? Phoenix is a major city, correct? But to travel from Atlanta to Phoenix took me north to Charlotte – yeah, I get it it, it’s a US Airways hub – but in a little tiny plane where just about everyone after Zone 3 was having to check their baggage through to their final destination. All the more infuriating because my flight to Phoenix, even with another Zone 5 boarding pass, had plenty of carry-on space. Friggin’ unbelievable.

And what’s up with this zone business anyways? Take my two flights yesterday. On my flight to Charlotte I’m in a window seat. On my flight to Phoenix, I’m in a middle seat, yet both of them are Zone 5. Makes no sense. One would think if you’re not going to board the plane from rear to front (the most logical, one would think), you’d board from the window seats in. But I gave up trying to make sense of anything the airlines do. Considering that every seat change now comes with an additional cost, you’d think everyone would be assigned Zone 5!

The baggage claim at Sky Harbor Airport is the US Airways of baggage claims. At every other Sky Harbor terminal they seem capable of delivering bags in a half-way decent amount of time, but if you’re checking baggage to Phoenix at a Terminal 4 gate, get ready for “the big wait”. Last night, I arrive and they tell us our luggage is arriving at Carousel 7. Fifteen minutes late, no wait! we really meant Carousel 5. Fifteen minutes after that, the bags start trickling out at a rate of 2-3 per minute. And this happens all the time. Of course, to get your bags means you’re one of the lucky ones – every time I’ve passed by the US Airways Baggage Claims office at Sky Harbor, there’s a line out the door, and last night was no exception.

Snapshot #1 – boarding my flight from Charlotte to Phoenix I pass by a guy letting out a big yawn. And he’s wearing a 5-Hour Energy sweater.

Snapshot #2 – I’m waiting for Tracey to pick me up and there’s a guy nearby smoking a cigarette in front of a huge “No Smoking” sign.

In contrast to Atlanta’s airport, the Charlotte airport is actually quite nice – not as nice as Minneapolis (in my view, one of the best) but a worthy stopover, for sure. Lots of choices to eat and drink, not too big, very nice people.

But I’ve escaped and arrived in one piece. It’s great to be back in Arizona.

I won’t bother to repeat my feelings about Atlanta – no need to trod over already-walked ground. I’m here for some internal meetings and am already looking forward to getting out of here in two days’ time.

Still, a walk in the forest from office to hotel under leaden skies and a chill breeze was quite nice – as much as palm trees and swimming pools are what I love about my present surroundings, I still really miss hardwood trees and forests.

A verse came to mind as I took a moment to take in the surroundings:

There’s something about bare trees
Stirring against a gray sky at dusk
With a rising wind and impending rain
They all appear so restless
Could be anyone of us

So maybe everything in Atlanta isn’t so bad after all.

Just don’t expect me to ever want to move and live here.

In addition to the slogan “what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas” there’s also the saying “nothing good happens in Vegas after midnight”.

(Before I continue, let me say that my experience has been that thathasn’t always been true. Several years ago (and I’m talking, like, one of the first Goodboys weekends we spent in Vegas) I recall a very early Monday morning – must have been about 2 AM or later (this was back in the days when men were men) sitting with a couple of the lads at the Mirage’s Kokomo bar (now, unfortunately, renamed the “Lobby Bar”) and watching an elegently-dressed lady wearing a navy blue evening dress and faux pearls saunter in and engage some drunk guy at the bear in conversation. It was only after I went up to the bar to order a few beers that I no0ticed the “woman” had no shortage of facial and arm hair; I was witnessing my very first transvestite. OK, he/she was defintely not my type, but I had to give him/her kudos for his/her taste in clothes – especially the fact that he/she had found pumps to match the dress perfectly.)

But I digress.

Got this tragic story passed along to me by one of my Goodboys weekend buds – incredible when you come to think of it:

LAS VEGAS — A gunfight between a Maserati and an SUV on the Las Vegas Strip caused a fiery crash at an intersection involving a taxi that burst into flames, leaving three people dead and at least three injured early Thursday, police said. The Maserati driver, the taxi driver and a passenger in the cab were killed. The SUV got away.

In all, five vehicles were involved in the dramatic crash around 4:30 a.m. Thursday at Flamingo and Las Vegas boulevards, a wide intersection surrounded by some of the most famous casinos on the Strip, including the Bellagio, Caesars Palace and the Paris.

It started with people in the Maserati and the SUV exchanging gunfire before the high-end sports car hit the taxi, said Sgt. John Sheahan. Three other vehicles were involved in the wreck, but the SUV was gone when police arrived, Sheahan said. At least three people were hospitalized, including a passenger from the Maserati.

The intersection is expected to be closed for hours as officers investigate.

A tourist who witnessed the aftermath of the crash told KLAS-TV the burning taxi looked like a fireball. More people may be hurt, Sheahan said.

It’s the latest in a series of violent actions on the tourist corridor since the beginning of the year. Two people were critically wounded in a shooting at a parking garage Feb. 6, and a tourist was stabbed in an elevator at The Hotel at Mandalay Bay Feb. 16.

I dunno…SUV, Maserati, gunfire – that doesn’t sound like a very good combination to me. Tragic thing is the innocent people involved. But the saying holds true: nothing good ever happens after midnight in Las Vegas – especially when it’s after 4 AM. It’s a jungle out there.

After the election I promised I would never again blog about politics because it’s become increasingly clear that as long as Barack and Michelle Obama occupy the White House no one in the mainstream media, few in Washington, and an increasingly-huge segment of the American population really don’t care that this country is on the road to financial ruin. It’s not hard to see the problems before us: our government is far too large and intrusive, and spending far more money than it can possibly support with the revenue (read: higher taxes) available, our country is growing older, which is pushing so-called “entitlement programs” like Social Security and Medicare to insolvency, and our unsecured southern border continues to invite low-skilled workers without jobs to take advantage of the various social services offered by border states. The latter also serves to take jobs away from lesser-skilled workers who just happen to be citizens of this country.

The above problems wouldn’t be such a problem if you had politicians in Washington from the White House on down – in both parties – not just unwilling and unable to even have a mature conversation with the American people about the dire consequences that await us if these problems are not dealt with, but, even worse, cynically play on the fears and emotions of people whenever the slightest suggestion of reigning in the size and scope of the federal government and federal spending is raised.

Consider the so-called “sequestration” that supposed to take effect at the end of the month. Never mind the fact this was – no matter how much he’s protesting now – wholly and completely President Obama’s idea as a way to force Republicans to his goal to end the Bush “tax cuts” and raise taxes for the so-called “rich”. What’s worse is that President Obama, the Democrats, and their syncophants in the mainstream media are doing their best to scare as many people as they can by painting pictures of catastrophic job losses and losses of services at all levels of government if the “cuts” imposed by sequestration takes place.

Fact is, and you won’t hear this from the Democratic Party/mainstream media complex, is that these are not cuts at all, but a reduction in the annual growth of spending. There are no cuts, it just that – gasp! – government departments may have to scale back plans to expand their staffs and services. Not cut. Just not expand. Just don’t expect to hear this anywhere else but conservative blogs and news outlets like Fox News.

What bothers me about this whole thing is how brazenly disingenuous the President and the Democrats are. And how no one – and I mean no one in the mainstream media has the journalistic integrity to call them out on it. And you have low-information voters who could care less about the country’s pending financial ruin, only that they get their “Obamaphones” and disbility while they can before it all goes to shit. Worse than that, you have Republicans in Washington seemingly incapable of standing up and saying “no” to all this madness. They were elected by conservatives and former Republicans like me to bring fiscal discipline and a true opposition party to the nation’s capital; instead, they’re more concerned with what the New York Times and the Washington Post writes about them and/or what the pollsters tell them. Gutles weasels, all of them.

My feeling since the election has been that, if this is what the country wants let ‘em have it: sooner or later, when everything collapses the people who think Barack and Michelle Obama care so much them will be the first ones squealing like pigs when the trough becomes empty. Anyone with a brain can see that Barack Obama’s presidency is, and always has been, only about them. He cares nothing about the unemployed (if Obama did, he wouldn’t have had a “Jobs Council” that never met regularly end its operation. He cares nothing about the Constitution (if he did he wouldn’t be trying to shove his socialist agenda through by executive action). He cares nothing about competency and transparency in government (if he did he would have demanded the resignations of Eric Holder for the Fast & Furious operation fiasco and Hillary Clinton for the State Department’s actions – or lack thereof – in last September’s Benghazi consulate massacre).

Taken all of the above together, while I rarely listen to Rush Limbaugh, I have to say I agree with him when he says that this whole sequester hysteria has him ashamed of this country. Not what it stands for. Not what it has done in the past in sacrificing its blood to free millions of people from slavery and oppression. Rather, what it has become today.

To my mind, a once proud, “can-do”, and self-sufficient people has morphed into a bunch of lazy, self-obsessed, and petulant children seeking in Barack and Michelle Obama a continuation of the parenting they’ve grown so accustomed to over the past two decades – parents who give them whatever they want before they throw a tantrum, parents who make them feel good about themselves (look at us, we elected the first black President!), parents who demand nothing in terms of rsponsibility and self-discipline. Don’t want to work? Don’t want to take responsibility for your life and the personal lifestyle choices you make? That’s OK, all that’s important is that you feel good about yourself. Don’t worry mommy and daddy Democrat will find someone to pay for that – after all, there’s plenty of mean and selfish rich conservatives to fund your every whim and need. Just don’t demand that we pass a budget and – heaven forbid – be forced to live within our means.

Maybe this all plays in Peoria and just about everywhere else, but Barack Obama’s drama queen presidency infuriates and disgusts me to no end – not because he’s some self-absorbed, manipulative socialist hell-bent on destroying this country – which he is – but so many people believe in this so-called wizard behind a curtain. To think this guy is even President ought to scare the bejeezus out of anyone who cares about this country and its future. I can only hope that Peggy Noonan is right when she writes that this sequester hysteria he’s whipped up is one bridge too far, that he who “doth protest too much” will ultimately reveal himself as the political shill and incompetent that he is and has been all along. But I’m not counting on it.

And it won’t end with Barack Obama: the liberal/mainstream media complex has already started the drumbeat for Hillary Clinton as the continuation of Barack Obama’s imperial, progressive presidency. God help us if that happens.

There. Rant over.

I’m not going to say that all of us so-called “Tea Party wackos” told you so, but…. well, we told you so! And it’s not going to get any better – just wait until companies by the thousands start ending health insurance benefits starting, oh, round about January of next year. Who was it who said health care costs will go down and you get to keep your own doctor? Hmmm…

All I can say to the Denver airport folks is, welcome to my world (my boldings):

Although officials have been removing 100 rabbits from the area every month, the damage continues. The persistent presence of rabbits can be attributed to the fact that the airport is surrounded by a prairie and the rabbits look to the vehicles for warmth and food.

“They come to the recently driven cars for warmth, and once they’re there, they find that many of the materials used for coating ignition cables are soy-based, and the rabbits find that quite tasty,” Wiley Faris, a spokesman for the nearby Arapahoe Autotek repair center, said.

Nearby apartment buildings have also been complaining about the animals. “A lot of people have called us,” Faris said. “They return to their cars and either they won’t start or they don’t run well because the wires are all chewed up.”

The perpetrators were identified by the fur and pellets they left behind.

Fortunately we’ve learned our lessons over many years of bunny cohabitation – some of them more hard than others. The folks in Denver don’t know what they’re up against, I can tell you that!

While I’m about as unmilitary as one can get, I have to agree with General McChrystal on this. Not only would it make the sacrifice involved shared by everyone without distinction to race, creed, class, social strata, etc., it would help reinforce the whole basic concept that the freedoms we share (and, in my humble opinion) overly abuse aren’t free. It would also teach young people valuable lessons about discipline and subverting one’s wants and needs for the good of the team – qualities sorely missing in our culture these days.

Hmmm…I may no longer be able to get mail on Saturdays but at least I’ll be able to show my appreciation for that icon of governmental efficiency by wearing something from their new clothing line! What will they think of next – perhaps suspending Friday deliveries and opening up a USPS-themed restaurant chain? (Hat tip: Hot Air)

A crazy day, weather-wise here in (supposedly) sunny Arizona. Of course, everyone is talking about the snow in Tucson that cancelled the start of the Accenture Match Play when two inches of snow fell. I guess what they say about the PGA Tour really is true – anything is possible.

…and it wasn’t just golf that was affected, check this video out from the Colorado Rockies’ spring training facility – just 30 minutes north of where we live. Pretty wild.

It looked like we here in Gilbert were going to miss out on all the fun, but then around 5 PM the sky got really black and a heavy rain turned quickly to hail. I walked down to the mailbox getting pelted by marble-sized hail and loved every minute of it! A couple of sharp flashes of lightning and some rumbles of thunder followed, then twenty minutes later it was over, but not before leaving a wintry sight on grassy surfaces:

I hate to see anyone left out of the fun, so New England, looks like you’re in for another snowstorm this weekend.

Sigh. Florida sure sounds sounds nice. I’m thinking Naples…

The glass of Pinot Grigio sat there on the polished wooden bar at the Wynn Parasol Up staring back at me, clean, crisp, and expensive. The happy sounds of another Saturday night in Vegas were unfolding all around me: pretty waitresses hurrying to and from tables filled with people looking forward to a night on the town, bartenders busy at work, the sounds of corks popping and bottles opening augmenting the din of a hundred conversations taking place around me.

“That’ll be $15.50″, says Odie the bartender.

“$15.50 – that’s outrageous!”, I say in mock horror. “Why, I could buy that bottle for half as much at the local Fry’s. Where do you get off charging that kind of money?”

Odie doesn’t blink or hesitate. “Look around you.”

I give a nod, smile back, and charge it to my room. I take a sip and, sure enough, the Pinot is as cool and crisp as it looked. My bones don’t seem to mind the chill even though just a few hours earlier they’d needed a thorough defrosting in the hot whirlpool bath and steam room at the Wynn Spa after 4+ hours of golf at Ice Station Zebra, otherwise known as the Las Vegas Paiute Golf Resort’s Snow Mountain Course. We’d played in temperatures hovering around 50 with 40 MPH winds that cut through your clothes as if you had nothing on. They don’t call it Snow Mountain for nothing – here’s the view looking towards the tenth tee:

It had taken a solid hour between the whirlpool and the steam to finally drain the last chill out of my bones, but now in the happy and cozy Parasol Up the only concern on my mind was what my de facto swing coach had to say about my play that day. Going by the numbers themselves – 50 + 53 = 103 – the work I had put in since my outing two weeks prior at Superstition Springs had really paid off: eight less putts on similarly fast greens, my chipping game much crisper, and improved play with my irons. Sure, as a resort course, the fairways at Snow Mountain were wider than those at SS, but the ten fairways I hit during the round would have been fairways hit just about anywhere – they were that clean. Despite the cold (the hardest thing all day was placing a ball on a tee with trembling hands), I found a good and fairly consistent tempo all day – something I felt pretty damned proud of, but would my swing coach agree, or would it be a couple of snarky comments before saying, “let’s hit the town!”.

Of course, not all was peaches and cream out there – truth be told, my 103 was nothing to crow about. After all, I’d thrown a rocking chair 94 away as carefree as I’d just signed my room to that $15.50 glass of Pinot Grigio with four holes of really pathetic play. On the par-5 6th, sitting in the middle of the fairway with just 250 yards remaining I’d yanked a 5-wood (the one club I’m having trouble hitting) OB left when an easy 3-hybrid (which I’d smacked perfectly two times already) would have done fine. Lying three, I chunked my first attempt at an approach shot, my second left me out of position and short-sided, then two chips and two putts later and I’m in for a crowd-pleasing nine.

But that wasn’t the worst of it.

We’re playing skins, so we come to the 12th hole with four skins on the line. After splitting the fairway, I hit a beautiful 5-iron to within a yard of the green, then chipped to eight feet. I only had to two-putt to take the hole and the skins. My playing partners now go into full Goodboys Invitational weekend mode and start giving me the business. After all these years one would think I’d be immune to such treatment, but instead I fold like a cheap bridge table and three-putt. On the next hole, still in PTSD mode and not thinking clearly, I take out driver even though I’d been hitting my 3-wood near pure all day and boom not one, but two big banana slices OB left before losing a third ball on another poorly-chosen 5-wood on my way to a big fat eight. I then three-putted again on the next par-3 for a six before settling down and bogeying my last two holes.

6, 12, 13, 16 – four holes of death, and all completely avoidable. One thing’s for sure: it’s not just the physical game that can get you, but the mental game as well. If I’m going to make any noise at this year’s Goodboys weekend I’m going to have to show improvement in both those areas.

I hear a “Yo!” and it’s my swing coach saddling up to the bar next to me. Ben “The Funny Guy” Andrusaitis orders himself a Stella Artois and we small talk a bit about our own ways of thawing out since arriving back at Wynn. The moment of truth had come – after all, TFG hadn’t seen me play since last fall, and certainly had never seen me play with my new Callaways.

“So, what do you think”, I ask, taking a sip of Pinot to steady the nerves at the shot of pure honesty sure to come.

TFG hesitates a second – a pretty girl has caught his eye – then gives me the low-down as as only he can: straight, right to the point.

“You’re really coming through the ball great”, he says. “Got those big muscles working for you, just like Bob Mann says. A big improvement, you’re really making progress. The only times you got into trouble were when you started over-swinging – those two drivers, a couple of crappy chips. There’s no way you shouldn’t be shooting under 100 consistently. Keep it up.”

Another girl catches his eye, and he takes a sip of his Stella. “But jeezus, you really sucked three-putting from eight feet. I mean, eight feet? With four skins on the line? Mother of God!”

OK, so there’s still work to be done – especially with that damned 5-wood – but the way I look at it, this is a marathon, not a sprint. And to shoot a 103 in extreme conditions just confirms that all the work I’ve been doing is starting to pay off. I have little doubt there will be bumps in the road along the way, but I’m hitting better shots and making better decisions out there. Like with anything else in this sport called a game, the key is becoming more consistent in all phases. And in that regard, I think I am making progress.

Vegged out tonight and watched one of my all-time favorite flicks, Andy Garcia’s The Lost City. Beautifully filmed and written, it’s just a reminder of everything that awaits the deaths of the Castros – something I pray that will happen in my lifetime. There’s something about classic Cuban music, food, and culture I’ve always found near and dear to my heart. And to know that in some small way I helped someone with connection to Cuba gain a foothold in the U.S. on his way to becoming a success is something I’ll always feel good about!

Perched under happy pineapple lights and accompanied by a Johnny Walker Red and an occasional Arturo Fuente (I mean, how good is life?), I’ve come to enjoy reading Cuban poetry as well. This is a good one. Enjoy.

Howling winds fuel the endless surge
of the waves breaking on the wall
Stars shine in the Havana sky
as if to answer the wind’s defiant call

Attacked on all sides and battered
by the waves of time and distance
Cuba stands proud and ever vigilant
in her defiant resistance

Tonight the sea is not her friend
as it threatens to escape its lair
Ever howling, never ending
the winds taunt Cuba on a dare

Can the past meet the future
and yet not lose its charm
Cuba is like a beautiful lady
held proudly on the world’s arm

The heart of man is seen
through the eyes by way of the soul
My dear Cuba-your eyes sparkle
and glisten in the wind like the finest gold

Hat tip: Helium.com

Apologies for the lack of posting but the weekend after my annual Goodboys Las Vegas weekend is kind of a low time. Been helping Tracey with some work she’s doing, and I’ve started categorizing all our 2012 expenditures for tax preparation which is just aroudn the corner.

Outside of that, haven’t done much this weekend. I’ve got a blog post about golf in Vegas that I can’t seem to finish. I’ve started putting together a business plan for a rabbit sitting service I plan on starting as an income-supplementing gig. I put the Margaritaville shopping bag that I brought back from Vegas in Marlie’s play area and watched her attack it for a while. Watched some golf on TC and and brought the trash barrel out. Slept in to 10 AM on Saturday and Sunday. I’m sure you’re starting to get the picture. Did some yard chores in preparation for a rain storm we’re supposed to be getting mid-week.

It’s good to have a lazy weekend once in a while – I don’t actually get a chance to do that much.

Catching up by linking to a bunch of cool stuff I’ve been putting off.

Check this photo out, it’s pretty amazing. I read about big-wave surfer Garret McNamara in Susan Casey’s fine book, The Wave. At that time he had just surfed a wave higher than 75 feet. Hey, if you’re gonna go high, go high! (Hat tip: Ken Clark’s Accuweather blog)

Hope everyone’s revved up for this. Don’t know if we’ll see it here in Arizona, but at least the weather will be good for sky watching if we will.

I’ve heard of golf tournaments being delayed by fog, by rain, and by frost – we see that here every year during Phoenix Open week. But a kangaroo delay? That’s awesome!

And speaking of links about life on the Australian links, check this story out – now that’s one tough chick!

Considering that Calvin Coolidge is my all-time favorite President, can’t wait to read Amity Schlaes’ just-released biography on “Silent Cal”. If it’s anywhere near as good as her last book it ought to be great.

Watched the new James Bond flick, Skyfall, on Blu-ray the other night and it didn’t disappoint. Without giving too much of the plot away, it was interesting to see how the film gradually evolved to set in place a new set of characters that recall those of the early Bond films. And Daniel Craig makes a really great 007.

Interesting how this kind of news somehow filters out three months after a presidential election. I thought it was pretty clear that those people in Benghazi were left there to die, this is just another piece of the puzzle. Mark my words: sooner or later the truth will come out that the US was using the embassy to run guns or worse to some group of rebels in the region, and somewhere along the way the cover got blown. And everyone will be found to be involved. It’s gonna take some time, but the scandal that develops will be bigger than Watergate. Like I’ve said previously, at least with Watergate no one got killed.

Finally, a happy Valentine’s Day to my bride of 26+ years. My love goes out to Tracey who still puts up with me after all this time.