Your Friday Moment of Pure Love

It is within the realm of possibilty that Dolly Parton is the very best person in America. You may have seen the sad news recently that her publicity-shy husband of 60 years, Carl Dean, passed away on Monday at the age of 82. Dolly just released this to honor and remember him:

We need more Dollys and fewer Donalds.

We're #69! Tar Heels Edition

One peculiarity this basketball season is the inconsistent, at times puzzling, performance of North Carolina. The Tar Heels are one of the sport’s blue bloods, an annual NCAA Tournament participant and on the short list of the nation’s most recognizable programs. 

UNC was ranked in the top 10 in preseason polls and picked to finish second in the ACC behind a loaded Duke, facing a schedule dotted with premier games. Fast forward, and the Heels have zero marquee wins. As recently as three weeks ago they were scuffling along just one game over .500 in the league and were barely on the fringe of NCAA consideration. 

A current win streak fueled by lineup tweaks has lifted UNC into the discussion, though ESPN bracketology gerbil [Ouch, babe.] Joe Lunardi and The Athletic hoop snoop Joe Rexrode both have Carolina among the first four omitted from the 68-team field. NCAA Net Rankings have the Heels a very bubbly No. 38, and Ken Pomeroy ranks them 38, as well. 

Let’s dig in our Heels: (Full disclosure: I grew up in Maryland, a fan of the Terps and Lefty Driesell and later attended College Park. Carolina’s consistent excellence under Dean Smith and frequent wins versus Maryland provided constant anguish for a kid in the days of the old ACC. Once I began covering sports for a living, however, my rooting interests subsided. I became a fan of decent stories, accommodating deadlines and reliable wi-fi connections. Though I must admit, there remains a small corner of my brain that smiles when Carolina struggles.) 

Recent History: Not too shabby. Twenty NCAA appearances since 2000. Three NCAA titles this century (2005, 2009, 2017), seven Final Fours, 13 appearances in Sweet 16. 

Mascot/Nickname Profile: Tar Heels and North Carolina’s nickname as the Tarheel State date to colonial times. The state was a massive source of material used in wooden shipbuilding – tar and pitch and turpentine from the state’s abundant pine forests – first for the British Royal Navy, and then domestically after independence. It was used to seal hulls and prevent rot. 

Around the time of the Civil War, outsiders began referring to NC natives and troops as Tarheels, a derisive nickname that natives later adopted as a source of pride, that they were more likely to “stick” to their causes and convictions than outsiders who were less committed. 

The school’s mascot, a ram named Rameses, dates to 1924. The football team’s star fullback, Jack Merritt, was nicknamed “Battering Ram” for his style of play. The head cheerleader at the time suggested that the school purchase a ram as mascot, which it did. Legend has it that in a scoreless tie against Virginia Military Institute, UNC’s kicker rubbed the ram’s head for luck and then went out and kicked the game-winning field goal. A ram has been on the sidelines at UNC football games ever since. The stuffed costume ram mascot seen at basketball games and other events dates to the late 1980s. 

IYKYK

Home Arena: Dean E. Smith Center, aka the Dean Dome (cap. 21,750). Opened in 1986. The baby-bluest building you’ll ever walk into. Smith was notably hesitant about a new arena three times the size of the program’s traditional home, Carmichael Auditorium. But he was eventually convinced because of the program’s growing popularity and the fact that it would allow more students to attend games. He was never entirely comfortable with the fact that it was named for him. For all of his success, he routinely deflected attention from himself. For instance, when people referred to UNC as a basketball school, he often responded that no, it was a women’s soccer school, owing to legendary coach Anson Dorrance and his title harvesting program. 

Notable Hoops Alumni: Dear lord, where to start? That Jordan fellow, Vince Carter, James Worthy, Tyler Hansbrough, Billy Cunningham, Phil Ford, Kenny Smith, Larry Brown, Antawn Jamison, Bob McAdoo, George Karl, Charlie Scott, Sam Perkins, Brad Daugherty, Al Wood, Armando Bacot, Walter Davis, Bobby Jones, Mitch Kupchak, Rick Fox. Three of their coaches are also in the Naismith Hall of Fame – Frank McGuire, El Deano and Roy Williams. 

Current Season: The Heels (20-11, 13-6 in the ACC) are in fourth place in the league, a half-game ahead of Wake Forest and SMU. Graduate guard R.J. Davis (17.2 ppg), the 2024 ACC Player of the Year and school career No. 2 scorer behind Hansbrough, is one of three players averaging in double figures, along with 6-4 freshman Ian Jackson (13.5 ppg) and 6-3 junior Seth Trimble (12.1 ppg). UNC has won six in a row and scored more than 80 points in each game, due in part to recent emergence of 6-9 graduate Jae’Lyn Withers (70 pts last six games) and 6-8 junior Ven-Allen Lubin (7.6 ppg, 4.9 rpg), who has scored in double figures in his past five games. Both bigs have also helped reverse the season-long trend of spotty rebounding. 

Hubert is a FOG:TB by proxy

Reasons to Believe: Late-season success, which is supposedly a factor in selection. Notion that it’s difficult to fathom the ACC not getting at least four teams into the tournament. The fact that they’re North Freakin’ Carolina. To that end, I was reminded recently that the selection committee knows precisely what teams they’re evaluating. The idea that the committee blindly compares resume’s for a supposedly more objective decision is a media concoction – often attempting to measure the worth of one team chosen vs. another that was left out. If you believe that committee members don’t consider conferences and schools when it comes to selection and seeding and juicy potential tournament matchups, we have a swell real estate proposition for you in a little paradise we call Gaza. UNC Athletic Director Bubba Cunningham is chair of the selection committee. Now, ADs are supposed to recuse themselves when their teams are discussed, but administrative back-scratching, anyone? 

Reasons to Fade Them: Metrics. The Heels have exactly one Quad 1 win, a Dec. 21 neutral site game vs. UCLA. They’re 1-10 against Q1 (Quad 1 results are home games vs. the top 30, neutral site games against the top 50 and away games against the top 75). The only team ranked above them in NCAA Net with one or fewer Q1 wins is No. 29 VCU (1-1), and obviously the Rams had only two opportunities. That said, a win against Duke Saturday and/or a deep run in the ACC Tournament would bolster their case. The fact that the ACC is down this season doesn’t provide the statistical cushion and boost of years past. In short, unless the Heels win the ACC Tournament, it could go either way. But don’t be surprised if they hear their name called on Selection Sunday.

Gheorghasbord: Heroes Gone But Not Forgotten

We've seen a handful of famous folks pass in recent days. Gene Hackman, Betsy Arakawa, Michelle Trachtenberg, all public figures whose deaths made the headlines. But we've a pair of others who haven't been quite as bold-faced in their personas, yet who left an indelible mark on this rapidly devolving global society.

For instance, it was sad news in my household when Francesco Rivella passed on February 14 at the age of 97. The Italian chemist was my daughter's favorite person for several years, though she didn't know his name. Rivella invented Nutella, which was my kid's go-to breakfast staple into the early high school years. We even made a trip to Chicago just to go to Mario Batali's Eataly because it had a Nutella-themed bar. (We didn't know, man.)

Literally millions of other families mourn and give thanks to James Harrison. The 88 year-old Aussie died on February 17, and his right arm could finally rest. Harrison's blood contained a rare and valuable antibody known as anti-D (sorry Daves, Danimal, and Donna), and he was generous with it. Anti-D is vital in preventing blood-related diseases in newborns, and Harrison's 1,173 blood donations between 1954 and 2018 are estimated to have contributing the saving of 2.4 million infant lives. Nearly as many as Elon Musk is going to kill this year.

Your Typical Anapestic Birthday Celebration

As many of you may know, I share a birthday with Dr. Seuss (and Desi Arnaz and Jon Bon Jovi, among others). But while I'm no "I Love Lucy Superfan," I've always felt a special connection to Seuss and his wild and whimsical words (and illustrations). Whitney has often regaled you with tales of our very popular (and very profane) song we made in college about the good doctor, inspired by his demise, so I don't need to recount that but in other shared birthday news . . .

For the last eighteen years, I've written a Seussian poem celebrating our respective birthdays. I thought this was a normal way to celebrate, but Google does not agree:

Here is my latest:

Me and the Seuss, we share birthday fun--
If the doc were alive, he'd be one-twenty-one!
I'm not quite that old, but D. Boon would be proud--
there's no shame in saying it, so I'll say it loud,
fuck all those youngsters, growing old is no crime--
I'll revel in my age: double nickels on the dime.

For the first time ever, I've collected all the rest of the poems in one place-- and it's a pretty weird ride. Starts as a creative lark, but then I start exploring the nature of time and mortality, and then, for no good reason-- unless perhaps it's just getting old and mellowing out, I become inspirational and optimistic and start looking on the bright side of life.

So here they are, in chronological order:

Today is the day-- I've turned thirty-eight!--
The Doctor and I, we share the same date--
If Seuss were alive, he'd be one-o-two,
And if I were like Horton, then I'd hear a Who!
(Actually, Seuss would be one-o-four,
but that is a fact that I choose to ignore).

I share my birthday with a Cat named Seuss--
who, like all writers, liked his juice
as I like mine, fermented and sweet . . .
especially for a birthday treat--
but this year, instead of getting all pissed
my present is a juicy sebaceous cyst.

This one is very Emily Dickinson:

A Birthday Slant Rhyme

Today is our day:
me, Seuss, and Bon Jovi,
and I am the youngest,
Though I just turned forty.

Today is my birthday, me and the Seuss
I'm now forty-one, and still feeling loose,
but if life is a train, I'm near the caboose.

Today is the day, I turn forty-two--
the meaning of life, but according to who?
and if you know, I'm willing to bet
that you have read all the books in the set--
you know that the dolphins had such simple wishes,
they just wanted to say thanks for the fishes.





If Seuss were alive, he'd be very old,
one hundred and nine years I am told;
I doubt very much that I'll make it that far --
but I have a tattoo of a fish in a car!

At this point, the poems become more existential and grim:

It's here once again, it's hard to ignore,
he's one-hundred and ten, and I'm forty-four.
My beard grows white, my skin grows loose,
the looming specter tightens his noose,
and if you deny him, he'll cook your goose . . .
let me remind you, it happened to Seuss.

The doctor and I are both a year older,
but his celebration is darker and colder.

Seuss was a man who created a cat,
with a number of tricks, and a fancy top hat--
I am the man who created a blog,
but I don't have a cat . . . I prefer my black dog.

Dave and Dr. Seuss Pontificate on the Meaning of Shared Birthdays (in a Universe That May be Experiencing the Nietzschean Eternal Return)

Me and the Seuss, we share the same date:
coincidence . . . or an act of fate?
I tend to lean towards the stochastic
but perhaps our world is finitely elastic,
so we run the same path after every big bang
and the Doctor and I share our groove thang.

The Doctor and me-- we share the same date--
Inevitably, we'll share the same fate.
As alive as he was, all the places he went,
In the end, he found out that his life was but lent.
I AM alive, I have places to go--
But since I'm now fifty, I'll just move kind of slow.
There is a lesson to be learned from the demise of the Seuss:
the best case with the reaper is an uneasy truce.

This one is quite historic, on both ends:

I share my birthday with a cat named Seuss
a man I respect for his creative juice
his rhymes were tight, his mind was loose--
and while the good Doctor liked to imbibe
Prohibition didn't feel his vibe--
I also like the occasional shot,
but on this birthday, alcohol is a NOT--
the shot I partake will go in my arm--
a present from Pfizer that might make me feel warm,
Seuss survived a pandemic: the Spanish flu--
Soon enough I might say: I survived too!

Then, for no good reason, I shake off this philosophical funk . . .

The good doctor and I share the same date of birth--
and for twenty-one years, we roamed planet earth--
our time intersected, we shared the same space,
we breathed the same air, we ran the same race--
but 31 years ago, the good doctor expired
while I continued living, he went and expired--
and I hope in good time, we'll meet once again,
and drink us some beers and eat us some ham.

The day has arrived, the day of my birth--
The day Seuss and I debuted on the Earth;
And while the good doctor has passed from this place,
I'm still hanging on still running the race,
still working the job, still writing the posts,
still chasing the lob, still taunting the ghosts--
I've been knocking around for fifty-three years,
my knees are a wreck, I can barely quaff beers--
but while I can walk, stand and not fall,
I'll remain in the game and play pickleball.

It's here once again, it comes without fail--
for rich and for poor, the next coffin nail . . .
for Bryce Dallas Howard, for the Wu's Method Man,
for me and Bon Jovi-- the occasional is grand:
We are still alive! our lifetime rolls on!
and one year from now we may well be gone . . .
But perhaps these trite rhymes will outlive my frame--


The Good Doctor is dead, yet you still know his name . . .
and the folks he invented, that lived in his books:
Yertle the Turtle, Thing One and Thing Two,
The Grinch and the Lorax and, of course, Cindy Lou Who--
you know all those souls, though they never lived--
you might know them much better than your very own kids!

So here's to creation--to birthdays and rhymes--
to writing it down, before there's no time.

Re-shaping The Discussion

It appears that elfin delivery magnate and newspaper dilettante Jeff Bezos saw fellow billionaire and serial ass-fez Elon Musk’s attempts to trample institutions and antagonize copious numbers of people and thought: Why should he have all the fun? 

Bezos continued his Solitaire Jenga of the Washington Post with a memo to staffers outlining an editorial shift that sent shock waves through the newsroom and beyond. He said the Post’s opinion pages will write every day “in support and defense of two pillars: personal liberties and free markets.” 

On its face, it’s a cheerleader call-to-arms. After all, who’s against personal liberty and free markets? (the Bolsheviks in the audience may want to sit this one out) Read more closely, however, and it’s a vague framework with more questions than answers and a fundamental misread of society and the role of newspapers. It’s the sort of memo written by someone whose wealth insulates them from the day-to-day and who builds a rocket ship for tourist junkets by other rich thrill-seekers. 

Here’s the full Bezos:

I’m writing to let you know about a change coming to our opinion pages. We are going to be writing every day in support and defense of two pillars: personal liberties and free markets. We’ll cover other topics too of course, but viewpoints opposing those pillars will be left to be published by others. There was a time when a newspaper, especially one that was a local monopoly, might have seen it as a service to bring to the reader’s doorstep every morning a broad-based opinion section that sought to cover all views. Today, the internet does that job. I am of America and for America, and proud to be so. Our country did not get here by being typical. And a big part of America’s success has been freedom in the economic realm and everywhere else. Freedom is ethical — it minimizes coercion — and practical — it drives creativity, invention, and prosperity. I offered (Editorial Page Editor) David Shipley, whom I greatly admire, the opportunity to lead this new chapter. I suggested to him that if the answer wasn’t “hell yes,” then it had to be “no.” After careful consideration, David decided to step away. This is a significant shift, it won’t be easy, and it will require 100% commitment — I respect his decision. We’ll be searching for a new Opinion Editor to own this new direction. I’m confident that free markets and personal liberties are right for America. I also believe these viewpoints are underserved in the current market of ideas and news opinion. I’m excited for us together to fill that void.

We live in a time when some have more liberty and are more free than others, the levels of which are often determined by money and race and class structure. In a society that’s increasingly gamed toward the wealthy and with a yawning income inequality gap, free markets ain’t exactly free for everybody. If an exercise of “personal liberty” offends or harms someone or some group, is that fair game or off limits for the Post editorial board? Do “free markets” include polluters and sweatshops where apparel seamstresses and shoemakers provide cheap goods without a squawk about hours and wages? How about corporate subsidies? Since when is free money part of free markets? Does Bezos, who’s made gazillions as Amazon honcho, want this new emphasis on personal liberties and free markets to champion everyone? Unclear, though his track record suggests not. 

Remember that the Federal Trade Commission and 17 state attorneys general sued Amazon in Sept. 2023, alleging monopolist and unfair business practices. The suit said that Amazon stifled if not squashed competition in multiple ways, manipulated prices and overcharged businesses, all while keeping wages criminally low and labeling many employees as gig workers to limit compensation and benefits. In the hands of the ultra-wealthy, phrases such as “personal liberty” and “free markets” are less aspirational and more license that translates to: “I get to do what I want.” For Bezos to justify the editorial shift by flippantly saying that the internet now does the job that newspapers did in the past is both tone-deaf and inaccurate. 

Sure, you can find all the contrarian takes you like on the interwebs. Few of them come with the heft and credibility of one of the nation’s most recognized, if increasingly self-immolating, newspapers. This is what happens when a newspaper becomes a possession rather than a public trust. Newspapers are supposed to speak truth to power – comfort the afflicted, afflict the comfortable, and all that; don’t pair the As and Cs. They have a responsibility to readers and to their communities, and should not be subject to the whims of the owner (your citation of William Randolph Hearst and Rupert Murdoch is so noted). 

You might recall that Bezos torqued off plenty of people inside and outside the Post last fall when he pulled an editorial endorsing Kamala Harris for President. He reasoned that presidential endorsements are outdated, unlikely to sway public opinion and demonstrate bias. In the aftermath of that decision, the paper lost a reported 250,000 digital subscribers. Does Bezos think going all-in on personal liberties and free markets will suddenly motivate Fox News viewers and Wall Street Journal subscribers to flock to the Post? Or will it make up for whatever the fallout is after this announcement? Doubtful. 

The man’s not stupid. The likely conclusion is that he made a calculation and is willing to follow through. He believes that he’s landed on a mission and now has a powerful platform to advocate for it. And he has money to burn, which not only entitles but blinds him. 

The last graf of Bezos’s memo is also a tell. The idea that free markets and personal liberties are “underserved” in the present news and opinion landscape is laughable. Look no further than the current occupant of the Oval Office and his inauguration, where billionaires and CEOs had better seats than Cabinet appointments, if you want a read on the impact of free markets and personal liberties. Look at the popularity of Fox News and the growing reach of Sinclair Broadcasting and its greasy affiliates and the aforementioned Wall Street Journal. Look at the consolidation of media and entertainment companies by corporate interests. 

Newspapers have been snapped up by hedge funds and vulture capitalists, who aren’t exactly going Marx and Engels on the editorial pages. Heck, today’s conservative movement and its mouthpieces have so glorified capitalism and the pursuit of wealth that any mention of government regulation or more equitable taxation is demonized as anti-business and anti-freedom and a bobsled run to communism. No, what Bezos and his ten- and eleven-figure bros want is validation. For them, America’s greatness isn’t as an idea but as a vehicle for extraction. Money isn’t enough. They all have plenty of that anyway. They want to hear that it’s good and right and noble to accumulate and acquire, that they’re the richest and smartest and bestest boys in the whole wide world. A newspaper with national cachet banging the drum every day is a swell addition to the club. Your move, Elon.