Five Other Hunts By Dr. Walter Palmer

omawarisan:

I made a fresh batch of words for you over at one of the other places that I write, Long Awkward Pause.

Click on over for more reasons to rage at Walter Palmer, DDS.

Originally posted on Long Awkward Pause:

Well, we all know by now that Minneapolis dentist Walter Palmer is disliked for more than just his root canals. The revelation that he hunted and killed a beloved lion in Zimbabwe has made him the newest target for internet outrage.

(public domain) This morning, I signed on and saw the news that Dr. Palmer paid $127,500 to settle a 2005 sexual harassment claim brought by one of his employees.

After I thought about what an uncool guy he is for mistreating the woman he harassed, I thought about $127,500. That’s a lot of money for us non-dentists. For Walter Palmer, that’s a hunting trip.

So because he had to pay off that misdeed, he probably didn’t get to go hunt anything “cool” that year. Poor guy. That thought set me to wondering what else Dr. Walter Palmer has hunted down and killed. I pretended to look into it and…

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You Don’t Become A Baseball Player By Putting On A Uniform

omawarisan:

I wrote this about my dad a few years ago. The wisdom of his lesson has served me well throughout my life. Ironically, he taught this lesson using a game that he never played.
Call your dad today, if you can. He remembers you at your best. Sometimes he remembers you better than you actually were, and that is kind of cool too.

Originally posted on Blurt:

I love baseball. Always have. Always will.

Baseball Field Baseball Field (Photo credit: howsmyliving)

That doesn’t mean that I was especially good at it. I never threw particularly well. I could field adequately, but I wasn’t all that fast. The one thing I could do was hit. I didn’t hit the long ball, but I could get myself on base. When I was old enough to try out for Little League, I made the team.

I always made the team. That’s where I’d hit the wall.

I made the team, I had a uniform, I went to practice and I showed up for the games. I usually didn’t make it into the games. I’d go on the field for pregame drills. Sometimes I’d get the catcher’s mitt and warm up whatever pitcher the coach was going to put in the game next. A few times, he sent me out to coach third…

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News Flash: Some Animals Don’t Mind Hurting You

Originally posted on The Nudge Wink Report:

The news media seems always eager to identify the latest “trends”. And yet they’ve missed a potentially dangerous one that has come up this week – animals have begun killing us at an alarming rate.

Hakuna Matataaaaauuuughh

“Dude, I will totally kill you” – every lion ever born (image by Robek CCbySA3.0)

A lion attacked and killed a woman as she toured a place called Lion Park in South Africa. Lion Park safety rules require visitors to tour in cars with their windows rolled up because, you know, lions.

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Let’s Do Fireball Shots! Bad Idea.

Originally posted on Long Awkward Pause:

Fireball.

Its name brings a smile to the faces bar owners who see their profits rising when they hear one of their unsuspecting patrons say “let’s do some Fireball!”. Why do I say unsuspecting patrons? Because as they’ve driven Fireball Cinnamon Whiskey from being a relatively unknown product to one of the top-ten liquors in the US market, few have taken note of Fireball’s dark secret.

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The Power Of My Mom’s Capes

omawarisan:

Well, it has been a busy week. The cat has allergies, I had stuff to get done at home, my son is graduating from college and Mother’s Day is Sunday.

I’m re-posting this piece from four years ago in honor of my Mom and my son, two of my favorite people and because I like it. Got a problem with that? Well maybe I’ll just bring my cat over and let him sneeze on you.

Originally posted on Blurt:

I went into my son’s room the other day. It is kind of quiet in there, what with the away at school thing we have going on. I just like going in there.  Hooked on the back of the door are three little kid sized capes.

My Mom’s Capes

Superman (comic book) Image via Wikipedia

My mother can make anything. She has always been that sort, always will be. If you give her two things, she will make a third whose function is barely related to the original. Her creative ability is unrivaled. This ability was a real help when I was very young.

My parents and I lived in a tenement apartment, two floors above my grandparents, in Hoboken, NJ. My folks were young and struggling to get their feet under them; there wasn’t a lot of money coming in. Options for getting me outside were pretty limited. It was a tough…

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Your One Direction Questions Answered

omawarisan:

Once, the world was predictable and safe. But now we know that one of the members of the band One Direction has left the group.

Now, questions abound. How will we go forward from here? Why did this happen?

Join me at Long Awkward Pause as I answer all your questions about a group I know nothing about and a future I no longer understand.

Originally posted on Long Awkward Pause:

The world was knocked a little off its axis this week by the news that Zayn Malik has left the British boy band, One Direction.

(public domain)

I’m sure we all know where we were and what we said when we heard the news. I remember it like it was yesterday, which it was. I was on my couch, read about it on Google News and said “who?”

But anything involving One Direction affects everyone. Even someone like me, who didn’t know that Zayn was a name, knows that the world is not the same today as it was before he left the band. It is at times like these that the world needs answers.

I am here to give the world the One Direction answers it so desperately needs. For the next several days or weeks – for as long as it takes to get the planet through the…

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Three Years Later

This doesn’t mark three years ago that my friend died, the number is now four. I tried writing something new about him but the words didn’t come this year. Sometimes it goes like that. This is a reprint of last year’s piece on this date.

Humor returns to the blog tomorrow.

Today, as every day, I miss Fred.

 

Three years ago today was a Friday. I’d slipped out-of-town for an over-night visit with my son at college. By the time I arrived, Fred had passed away back home.

Despite a heroic effort to contact me, I didn’t know we’d lost him until I read the news the next morning. I remember staring a lot that day. There were other things, but mostly there was staring.

That Saturday night, back home, I was still staring. I published what I felt that night, and then went to work at 4:30 a.m. Sunday, on no sleep, for my first shift without him. I wasn’t the only one sleepless and staring.

The staring returned this morning. I’m angry about the accident that cost his life months before he was to retire. I’m hurt for his family as they move on without him. I’m disappointed that I can’t call him to laugh about some of the stories we lived through and compare notes on how much being retired from The Job doesn’t suck.

But I’m also happy to have had the privilege to enjoy time with Fred. That’s the direction I hope the staring takes me today.

Things are better than they were three years ago. A lot of water has gone under the bridge. I’m stronger, healthier and smarter. I’ve even learned lessons because Freddy had to leave; I’d rather have stayed ignorant of those.

It is quiet today. I’ll take time to think about the stuff we saw and did. And about pulling each others bacon out of the fire on several occasions. And finding each other on SWAT calls and saying “I’ll see you when this is over”.

Life goes on, brother. It is good.

I’ll see you when this is over, but it’s gonna be a while.

Fortes Fortuna Juvat.


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