I-don't.

And I-can't. Bring myself to spend five-or-six-hundred bucks for one, that is.

I was one of the last kids on my block to get a computer and a cell phone. And I know why.

I'm still annoyed over 8-tracks. Yes, I know I should have gotten over it by...oh...1972.
But in high school, I sank a lot of money into all those Three Dog Night, Grassroots, Cat Stevens and Four Tops 8-tracks. Got a nice player installed in my mother's '68 Dodge Coronet, too.

And then...it was all obsolete. The future was in cassette tapes. Of course it was. As it turns out, the "future" doesn't last that long.
So I was late to cassettes...and late to CDs, too.

But I'm getting better. I embraced iTunes fairly quickly. And the funny thing is that buying a single on iTunes in 2007 costs exactly the same amount I paid for the first "45" I ever bought in 1962: 99 cents. (For the record, it was "Sherry" by the Four Seasons...before Frankie Valli got top billing. Bought it at Patruno's Variety Store, next to Saxonville School in beautiful Framingham, Massachusetts.)
And after careful deliberation, I jumped into digital photography with both feet. Even bought a Photoshop program and a scanner to archive old pictures.

So I won't judge those who have lined up for days to buy an I-Phone. They look very cool, and they also serve as an I-Pod and Web browser, among other functions.
I suspect they will be in limited supply for a while, and many of these people will turn around and sell them on eBay for three times the price.

As for me, my regular old cell phone will do. I only use a fraction of my bargain basement 300-minute-a-month plan, and besides, I like being unavailable and out-of-touch for a little while each day.
The few people who might actually need me always know how or where to find me anyway.

And looking back to those 8-tracks, it dawns on me. I'm STILL sick of "Joy to the World."

I've been saving this one for the appropriate time, and the time is so right.

When they're not reporting actual news, the cable "news" networks are pigs that have to be fed 24 hours a day. And as I write this, they're eating raw sewage.

A person who's famous for being famous is chewing up airtime with Larry King on CNN. I only say her name when I'm paid to or forced to.

And on MSNBC and Fox, they're talking and talking and talking about Ann Coulter's attacks on John Edwards. (For the record, she told the AP she wished Edwards would be "killed in a terrorist assassination plot." She previously called him a "faggot.")

The graphic over Dan Abrams' shoulder right now says "My Take."
Why would I possibly care what Dan Abrams' take on anything is? Why would you? Do you know him? I don't.
And I'm not singling out Abrams. Throw in Hannity & Colmes, O'Reilly, Dobbs, Cooper, Scarborough, Olbermann...all of 'em. Why would I possibly care what any of them think? Why would you?

I hate to believe that anyone watches these shows to be told how and what to think. I want to believe that we (well, most of us) are smart enough to do our homework about what's important, form our own opinions, and make up our own minds.

Whatever your opinions or politics are, they should be yours...not theirs.
This is my opinion. Why would you possibly care what I think? Why would you? Well...thanks for reading this either way.

Talk is cheap. It's cheap programming.
"Chris Matthews on line one. He'd like you to be on "Hardball." "Why, I'd love to. Call the doctor and cancel my surgery."
There is no shortage of talking heads who just love to turn up on these programs...whether they be the likes of Doris Kearns Goodwin or Ann Coulter. They have egos to feed and books to sell.

And the likes of Anna Nicole Smith or the person who's famous for being famous? They're not "people" anymore. They're programming.

The pig feeds off them for hours at a time. And eventually it belches and moves on to the next "meal" (almost always white, and often blonde.)

It's just not healthy.

"I'd like a loaf of Wonder bread, a men's black thong, a jar of Skippy, that whip looks nice, and some Welch's grape jelly."

VIP (Very Intimate Pleasures) wants to open a store on the Berlin Turnpike in Berlin, and naturally, the NIMBY's (not in my backyard) are out. Hey, I don't blame them. I wouldn't particularly want a sex shop around the corner from my house either. Or, as they call it, an "adult business."

So VIP is revising the list of products it plans to sell, hoping to win approval as a retail store.

Berlin Town Manager Roger Kemp had what had to be the semi-amusing task of taking a look at those products this week.
He told NBC 30's Susan Goodman: "We will have to try and interpret the values of the community, plus our council's adopted policies that we have to follow, and it should be pretty easy to determine if something has a sexual orientation or if it doesn't."

Why would a sex shop (adult business) sell anything BUT items of a "sexual orientation?"
Taking into consideration the "values of the community," maybe they should look at stocking some of the staples of life if they're that interested in winning a zoning permit.

Hey, when my wife's away I've been known to occasionally buy that loaf of Wonder bread and the jars of Skippy and Welch's and gorge. And let me tell you, THAT is a Very Intimate Pleasure.

The black thong and whip? See me in my next life. I'll answer to Raul. Or maybe Zeus. Yeah that's it. Zeus.

It's amazing how many times I've said that over the last couple of weeks.

Golf is a major part of my summer. It's time consuming and often frustrating. I love it. One good shot...one long putt...and it's all worthwhile.

The past 2 Mondays have been taken by fundraising tournaments. First, the CJR Tournament at Torrington CC, which is actually in Goshen. CJR stands for Connecticut Junior Republic, an organization for "troubled" kids. I don't like the word "troubled" all that much. We all have troubles. I just like to say they point kids in the right direction. It's a great tournament, because I get to meet all kinds of people from the Northwest part of the state, and I always seem to play well there.
Yesterday, I played in a fundraiser for Hamden Hall Country Day school at New Haven CC, which is actually in Hamden. Go figure. A friend of mine runs the tournament, and I get to hang out for a day with the New Haven crowd. Great time, but after all these years, I have a question. How come Hartford people don't think twice about going to New Haven, but New Haven people think Hartford is a road trip to a foreign land? Just asking.

And then there was the Travelers Championship. I'm telling you it's going to get better and better. And what a finish! Aside from the improved attendance, you could just sense the turnaround. Congrats to all, and my deepest gratitude to the NBC 30 cast and crew who, as always, rallied together for our coverage.
My only moment of irrationality came Thursday, when the thunderstorm rolled in just before airtime. The Mother Ship suggested we not go on the air because of lightning. But with all the production and writing done, all I could say was, "We're here, we're ready, let's do it!" I had been told our broadcast platform was "grounded." I don't even understand the meaning of "grounded," but that was good enough for me. Dumb, dumb, dumb. But we survived.

Throw in my usual foursome at Tallwood CC in Hebron, and a couple of rounds with a friend named Joanne, and it's been a good couple of weeks.

But today, we get back to business as usual. And that's fine too. See you at 5:30, 6 and 11.

Jesper Parnevik stands out in a crowd.
The PGA Tour player has been a fashion trendsetter for years, and I noticed him on the driving range yesterday wearing a skin tight black outfit with a black porkpie hat.
Works for him.
I try it, and they'd call in the people from Mystic to rescue a beached whale.

Heading into the tent for the broadcast yesterday, I encountered another man in black.
We had a lively discussion, and I told him I thought Travelers was the best thing that could have ever happened to the tournament, and what a great job I thought they were doing. He, in turn, preached the gospel of raising money for the charities, and the need for people to come out and support the tournament.
Good guy...didn't have a clue as to who he was.

So I see his picture in the paper this morning. It was Jay Fishman, Travelers CEO.
Good guy...now I have a clue as to who he is.

But sometimes, perhaps, ignorance IS bliss.

Please join Kevin Nathan and me for our special coverage tonight at 7 from Cromwell.

UPDATE:
Parnevik must really love that porkpie hat. He wore it again today. His father was one of the top comedians in Sweden, and I'm beginning to think Jesper wants to be the Pinky Lee of the PGA Tour with that hat. If you don't remember Pinky Lee, fuggedaboudit.

And we had Jay Fishman join us for the 5:30 news tonight. He told us that Travelers would not have gotten involved if it didn't make good business sense for the company, but it does. And judging from what we've seen, that's a very good thing for the long-term survival of this golf tournament.

Ignorance may occassionally be bliss...but knowledge is power.

Have a good weekend...and if you can, take in the tournament.

Maybe I need help. Come to think of it, forget the "maybe."

Reading about the violence in Hartford, I latched on to the fact that there's a street gang called CNN.
I really don't want to know what CNN stands for. I'd just like to think that they're wayward youth interested in current events.

And being a good company man, I couldn't help but think that MSNBC could use some extra exposure. (Maybe the rival gangs could put down their weapons and pick up microphones.)

It brought me back to the 70's, when the 2 main gangs in Hartford were the Ghetto Brothers and the Savage Nomads. Good solid gang names.

I have to admit, I was partial to the Ghetto Brothers, only because they spray painted "GB #1" everywhere. (Not that I'm endorsing grafitti, mind you.)
The first time my parents came to visit, I proudly pointed out all the GB #1's around town, and said, "They love me here."

Looking back, maybe it was my parents who brought up the original idea of my needing help.

Looking forward to the Travelers Championship for many reasons.

This new sponsor means a true fresh start and lots of hope after a rough few years.
Nothing against Canon, which did a fine job for a long time…and nothing against Buick, which was kind enough just to bridge the gap and stage the tournament. But having a “local” company’s name on the marquee makes it so much easier to NOT be tempted to call it the GHO.
You can tell things are different…from the news releases being sent out to the perks being offered the players. And then there’s the SIX MILLION dollar purse.
I started covering the tournament in 1974 for WPOP. Dave Stockton defeated Raymond Floyd by 4 shots at Wethersfield C.C. And if memory serves correctly (and it may not, but it’s close), I believe he won 40-thousand dollars of the 200-thousand dollar purse.

The weather is going to be great. At least, that’s what our weather boys are saying at this moment.

The memories of making good acquaintances. With players, Sammy, tournament types, volunteers, spectators, and the beer distributors. In past years, it was very important to buddy-up to the beer guys who would take care of us after the day was done. (Of course, those days are gone. No, really. Swear to God.)

Meeting so many viewers over the years. Matter of fact, when someone comes up to me and says “Remember me?” …if I don’t have a clue, I say “GHO.” It’s the right answer 80% of the time.

About the only thing I don’t see is much live golf. I’m usually working on the newscasts and specials, and catch most of the action on closed circuit TV.

Please join Kevin Nathan and me for our 7pm specials on Thursday and Friday nights.
And even better…come on out to Cromwell and fill up the bowl around the 18th hole…just like the old days…and show the sponsor and the national TV audience that the GHO...THE TRAVELERS CHAMPIONSHIP...is really back.

Hope to see you in Cromwell.

I just like the word "miffed." It's somewhere between a snit and being mildly displeased.

Now to the "muzzled." Just imagine my dismay when my own blog informed me that my "invitation" to my own blog had expired. Like a library card. And my own blog also informed me that I had to ask Michele to "re-invite" me.

I felt like Dad took the car keys away...like I was locked out of the house.
Hey! I have important things to say!!! (Uh huh.)

And then...I discover that Michele can post in my own blog.

So is it my own blog? Apparently not. I'm at the mercy of a Yankees fan.
Michele, the blog administrator, "Ms. NBC30.com", is otherwise a bright, attractive person. She has a tiny little flower tattoo for all to see...but I suspect she has the Yankee logo tatted where...well...whereever.

Is tatted a word? If not, it should be. I may like it more than miffed.

Anyway...if an "I Love Johnny Damon" post turns up on this blog...it ain't me, babe.

Michele: My apologies To Gerry's Fan Club

Wondering where Gerry has been? Haven’t seen an updated blog? Going through Gerry withdrawal?

That'd be my fault.

I (blog moderator/web girl) accidentally locked Gerry out of his blog.

He'll tell you differently though. I believe he is referring to it as a "Yankees conspiracy." I'll save those conspiracies for later in the season.

But for now, he's up and running again. Sorry for the technical difficulties.

The story at the end of the 5:30 news tonight had to do with a Connecticut girl called out of the crowd to sing with Enrique Iglesias on the Today show.

So naturally, we compared it with Springsteen calling a young Courteney Cox out of the crowd in his famous video. Which I announced as "Born to Run."
It was, of course, "Dancing in the Dark," and ace director Michael Wright was happy to correct me.

Except the show was over. Couldn't correct it on air.

Look, I know it's just trivia, but I HATE MAKING MISTAKES ON THE AIR!!!!!!! And ironically, it's Courteney Cox's 43rd birthday today. (I read the birthdays in the paper every morning.)

Now I have this blog to make the correction, but it's not the same. (Let it go, man, just let it go.)

Have a good weekend.

"The caucus has elected myself as the new leader."

Great. John McKinney (R-Fairfield) is the new Senate minority leader, and he's talking like a professional athlete. If he starts referring to himself in the third person, put him on waivers.

McKinney succeeds Louis DeLuca, who "did the right thing" by resigning his leadership post. He's still a state senator, mind you, but stepping down as leader was the "right thing" after asking a reputed mobster to do a little bitch slapping to straighten out a family matter.

The people we elect are known as lawmakers. DeLuca went outside the law as we know it.
Yes, he pleaded guilty. Yes, good people do stupid things (my hand is raised on that one).
But his fellow caucus members are pleased that he "did the right thing."
My, they're easily pleased.

Just another reason to vote.

Except a bad cold.

I don't get sick often, but when I do, I'm 6 years old.
I'm cranky. I want my mommy. Maybe I need to be burped.
Typical male.

I suspect this started when I got soaked trying to play golf during last Saturday morning's downpours.

What a moron.

It’s quite an image. Orthodox Jews on mountain bikes…protecting their neighborhood…packing heat.

And that’s exactly what’s happening in New Haven’s Edgewood neighborhood after a number of robberies and muggings.
Rabbi Dov Greer was attacked outside his home on Elm Street Sunday, and that’s when he and his brother Eliezer said “enough is enough.” They formed the “Edgewood Park Defense Patrol,” and now, they’re hopping on mountain bikes every night patrolling their neighborhood.

Good for them. They seem to be concerned citizens who apparently love where they live, and want to preserve and enhance the quality of life there.

The problem is the guns. Yes, they are licensed to carry them, and yes, they are concealed. But whether they have faith in the police department (they say they don’t) or not, I have to question the wisdom of being a “do-it-yourself police officer.”
They say they aren’t vigilantes, and that’s fine. But what happens the first time they see a robbery or a mugging in progress? They’re human beings carrying loaded weapons. The adrenalin kicks in…and then what? This isn’t Gomer Pyle making a “citizens’ arrest.”

There seems to be far too great a chance to do bad while they’re trying to do good.
Oy.

Hey, how about that final episode of "The Sopranos", huh?

That last scene was SO intense. Tony, Carmela and A.J. sitting down to onion rings...Meadow having a tough time parking her car...the suspicious faces in the restaurant. All building up to...nothing. Cut to black. Fill in the blank yourself.

Oh, did I mention I didn't see it?

I knew I wouldn't have to. I knew within minutes of the show's end, bloggers would be filling the cyberwaves with their summations, reviews and opinions. I knew every major newspaper would have blowout stories this morning. Sure enough, it's front and center on the New York Times web site, and the Globe and the Courant gave it plenty of ink and space.

I had thought about recording it before I left on a golf day trip Sunday to Massachusetts. I knew I wouldn't be back in time to see it, though I have several platforms of HBO, and could have watched the west coast feed. But by then, I already knew what happened, and thanks to the bloggers and other internet stories, I had already seen it...in my mind.

Obviously, the day has long passed when you could set the DVR, VCR, Tivo, whatever, and catch up on a show without knowing the outcome.

That's OK. In the end, it's just a TV show. I know, that's blasphemy to Sopranos fans. But one of these days, I'll watch it on "On Demand" just to say I saw it. Or not.

For what it's worth (absolutely nothing), my favorite finales were those of "St. Elsewhere" (drama), and "Newhart" (sitcom).
Inventive, touching, and just laugh out loud funny. Because of my work hours, I don't get to watch much prime time TV, but my only "can't miss" shows are "The Office" and "Boston Legal." Love the acting, love the writing.

Hey, maybe David Chase will produce a Sopranos movie to give fans a real ending. But I doubt it. He ended the show just as he wanted...to leave you guessing and thinking.

And me? Since it's apparently the sworn duty of blog world to write about "The Sopranos" today, I've done my job.

Cut to black.

Lou DeLuca...bizarre storm with hail the size of quarters...and the strangest story we've had in quite a while involving the Bloomfield girl.

Sitting in the comfort of the anchor chair, I got to see our crack staff do what they do best. Many are people you never see: producers, directors, assignment editors, photographers and editors, all the technical people. And yes, the managers.

And while everyone shined on air, I've got to give shout-outs to Garett Argianas and Ryan Hanrahan for their non-stop weather coverage, and to Erika Tarantal for her outstanding coverage of the Bloomfield girl. Erika did an especially superb job in our live coverage of the Thursday news conference during which the parents spoke.

And we wrapped the week up with guest sportscasters Jim Calhoun and Howie Dickenman. I'm sure both men had better things to do with their Fridays, but they stepped up for Kevin Nathan who has earned their trust over the past 10+ years.
Aside from their long basketball careers and brief television careers, Jim ( who got in his UMass dig) and Howie give liberally of their time to worthy causes, and it is very much appreciated.

It's nice to know all of these people.

Have a good weekend.

Well, maybe not, but that’s what it’s about. Now that I’m blogging, I check out some others from time to time to see what people are writing about.
One of them is Colin McEnroe’s blog, because he’s smart and funny, even if I need a dictionary sometimes when I’m reading him.
In one of his posts today, he used the word s**k, and it’s not that he’s alone in using the word. We see it in print everywhere now.
But even though I use it liberally in conversation, I can’t use it here. There’s no prohibition…nobody’s going to tell me not to use it.

I just don’t want to.
It’s not that it’s offensive, unless you’re really sensitive. It’s just that it’s…I dunno…base.

It is in the dictionary.
"Vulgar slang: to be disgustingly disagreeable or offensive."
That kind of sums it up. I use it, I just don’t want to read it.

I feel that way about most profanity. I use all of George Carlin’s seven dirty words, and I use them in most of their variations. I’m not proud of it, nor am I ashamed of it. Sometimes I swear to vent over a bad golf shot. I always end up using bad language when I have any kind of tool in my hand. And I can’t begin to tell you how effective profanity can be when someone I don’t know really well sets me off.
Wow, the anchorman said “(fill in the blank)!!!!”
Rarely happens, but it’s never forgotten.

But I do try to be careful about profanity, because there’s something I’ve never forgotten. The taste of a bar of Ivory soap. As shoved halfway down my throat by my mother the first time I said something worse than s**k without evening knowing what it meant. Rhymes with it, though. And boy, did it s**k.

Some lessons last a lifetime.

The 6 o'clock news began at 6 o'clock yesterday. The 11 o'clock news began at 11.
Both programs were written and reported on time. We have a deadline, and we met it. We don't have any choice.

Did your kids complete their homework assignments on time? I'm sure they did. They don't have any choice.
Have a doctor's appointment today? I'm sure you'll be there on time. Use it or lose it.

It's after midnight as I write this. Just after the expiration of the legislative session. But our representatives to Hartford will be back next week, because they didn't meet their deadline. They couldn't agree on a budget, so they'll have a special session. A very special session. Just like a "very special episode of Blossom," as NBC used to tout, when Blossom was about to learn a very important life lesson.

But what very important lessons have we learned from this not-so-special session of the legislature? Ummm...adults don't play well together?

Governor Rell on the Democrats: "Tax and spend."
House Speaker Jim Amann on Rell's adminstration: "That is a dysfunctional office."

Sweet.

We did learn that spending 18 years in prison for being wrongfully convicted of rape is worth five-million dollars.
We learned that we should buy energy-efficient appliances.
We learned medical marijuana is good, IF the governor signs the bill.
And we learned that even the Catholic church couldn't stop Plan B emergency contraception.

We also learned that circus elephants couldn't be saved from handlers using bullhooks. That was a popular bill for TV news, so we could keep using video of circus elephants. And not a pachyderm called to thank us.

Anyway, get ready for that very special session of the legislature. Maybe they can bring in a very special guest star. I'm thinking Sen. Lou DeLuca's grandson-in-law, who gave us the sound bites of the week.

"Do I look like I'm afraid of anyone? It would have been a mistake if anyone ever came to my house. As far as anyone going to see me...Mr. Galante or anyone else...just make sure they bring a lot of bullets."

Now THAT'S entertainment.

By the way, speaking of entertainment, Bud Collyer was the genial host of the old game show "Beat the Clock." Guess nobody under the gold dome ever watched.

Don’t mean to infringe on Kevin and Don’s territory, but….

The passing of Clete Boyer brings back fond memories of the first great teams I was aware of: the Yankees of the early 60’s. What an infield: Moose Skowron, Bobby Richardson, Tony Kubek and Clete Boyer. For that matter, what an outfield and what a pitching staff. (Yes, this is a born and bred Red Sox fan writing. No, you don’t have to take my temperature.)
The Sox were stuck with the likes of Dick (Dr. Strangeglove) Stuart, Chuck Schilling and Eddie Bressoud for infielders. Frank Malzone gets a pass, because he could actually play. But Clete Boyer was right there with B. Robby when it came to flashing leather.

Leftover from the weekend: how come I don’t mind the Sox losing to Jeter and Rivera, but I hate to see them lose to A-Rod and Damon?

Clemens has a “fatigued groin”? You know there’s a filthy joke there, but I thought Dan Patrick put it best on ESPN Radio: shouldn’t that be A-Rod’s injury?

Speaking of ESPN, I co-emceed the American Heart Association gala over the weekend with Karl Ravech. We’ve met a few times, and I don’t know him very well. But you know what? When he’s anchoring “Baseball Tonight” I never change the station. The guy’s a good broadcaster (cablecaster?) who really knows his stuff.

Glad the Yanks and Sox aren’t playing again til August. You gotta save that emotion for when it really counts.

How about that Dustin Pedroia? Don’t you think he’d love to call WEEI and tell everybody to kiss his…uh…bat? Patience pays off, and if you listen to Boston sports radio enough, you’d think half the hosts and callers should get help. Immediately. Of course, my old friend Mike Adams has been in need of help since the day he was born. (Kidding, Mikey.) (Wait, no, I wasn’t.) Dale and Holley middays are the most thoughtful and rational of the bunch. The afternoon crew drove me back to WFAN, because they make Mike and the Mad Dog sound absolutely professorial. That is not a compliment.

For Kevin Nathan: the Mets. There. There’s a mention of the Mets. Though a Pedro-Schilling matchup in the World Series would be delicious.

It’s June 5th. Will someone please tell the NBA and NHL their seasons should have been over a month-and-a-half ago?
Cleveland-San Antonio. LeBron will get all the hype. (Is he not the oldest looking 22-year-old you ever saw?) But Duncan is pure gold. Cut from the cloth of the Russell-era Celtics. If only the ping-pong balls had bounced the right way. But that would have made Rick Pitino look good. Nah, he would have found a way to screw it up.

Game 5 of the Stanley Cup finals tomorrow night, right here on NBC 30. Pray for the Senators! If the Ducks win and there’s a long Stanley Cup ceremony…that blood-curdling scream you’ll hear is me…sitting on the set…waiting to do the late news.
Best case scenario: Senators win, game ends close to 11, then the Ducks wrap it up Saturday night. Sorry, Ms. Tarantal.

Finally, 2 weeks til the Travelers Championship. And for the first time (sorry, Canon and Buick), I’ll be really happy to say a sponsor’s name. It’s great to have a “local” company as the title sponsor, and I do believe this is the turning point for a most worthy tournament that’s had a few tough years. More on that coming up.
Pray for Philly Mick’s health. Kevin will have a baby if he pulls out.

And that’s sports…I’m Biff Brooks.

This being Men’s Health Month, a couple more thoughts.

For the most part, we (men) are pretty stupid when it comes to our health.

Case in point: Saturday afternoon, Tallwood Country Club in Hebron. 14th hole. The heat got to me. Sunny, 88-degrees, moderate humidity. I hadn't had breakfast or grabbed a hot dog at the turn. I got a headache, a little nauseous, and generally felt awful. I entertained the thought of bowing out, but how could I, I had a good round going! Hey, what’s more important? Shot a 41 on the front (very good for me), so I couldn’t walk away. I soaked a towel in cold water, used it as a compress, and plugged on.
And then there was one of my partners, a single digit handicap. His back was acting up, and he could barely bend over to tee his ball up. But did he quit? No way! He was en route to his best round of the year. (For the record, a 73.)

We are idiots, and we are representative of men. Men are idiots when it comes to their health. We think we can do in our 40s, 50s and 60s what we did in our 20s and 30s. And sometimes we can. Followed by a long shower and longer nap.

We go from, oh, 18 to 40 with barely a check-up. Then we find out we’re not as perfect as we used to be. Just ask my podiatrist, dermatologist, ear nose and throat guy, and…never mind.
At some point, we realize life is good, and we want to extend it for as long as we can, so we get to the game of taking care of ourselves a little bit late.
But it’s rarely too late to start…so take care of yourselves. Life IS good.

By the way, I struggled to a 51 on the back nine for a 92 on a day I’d hoped to shoot 84-85.
I want to break 80. Just once. But I probably shouldn’t die trying. Though it would be tempting.

June is Men's Health Month.

June also brings us Father's day, my father's birthday and my father's death day. They come one right after another. And 10 years later, my only question about my father's passing remains, "WHY DIDN'T HE EVER HAVE A COLONOSCOPY?"

Actually, it's been the only question I've ever had. He was a healthy guy who got his annual checkups. But for whatever reason, his doctor never said, "get a colonoscopy." So naturally, he got colon cancer, and it spread quickly, and that was that.

I don't want to go all Katie Couric on you, but it's really a dumb way to die. So very preventable. Since then, my brothers and I have had several colonoscopies (not together and not at the same time, of course.)

If you have your doubts about this procedure, let me assure you it is not unpleasant. The day before is no walk in the park. It's more like a walk to the bathroom. A brisk walk. Several times, as a matter of fact, as you clean your system out.
But the day of...no problem. They put you under, you don't feel a thing, and then your designated driver picks you up to take you home, because you'll be floating like a balloon. High as a kite. And happy. Especially after hearing the doctor say, "You're clean" or "We got a couple of polyps out of there."
Go ahead, just do it...especially if you're 50+ and have never had one.

By the way, my father's name was Mel. Good thing I wasn't a "junior."

"You forgot to take out the garbage again."
"Sorry dear, I'll check into rehab."

NEWS ITEM: NBC 30 news anchor Gerry Brooks checked into rehab today. According to his publicist, Brooks failed to take out the garbage for the fourth time this year, and decided to get help before the problem gets out of hand.
In a statement, Brooks said: "I'm ashamed of my inability to handle garbage. I need help, and I fully intend to get it. I'll be a better Gerry Brooks for this. And maybe I'll meet some cool celebrities in there."

"Do you plan to mow the lawn sometime this month?"
"No, my sweet, I really don't. I'd better check into rehab again."

NEWS ITEM: NBC 30 news anchor Gerry Brooks is back in rehab. According to his publicist, Brooks's lawn was the embarrassment of his neighborhood, but he couldn't summon the strength to power up his mower and trim the grass. Asked why Brooks didn't hire someone to mow the lawn, the publicist shrugged, and said, "Hey, he hasn't paid me in 6 months, the cheap you-know what."
In a statement, Brooks said: "I'm ashamed of my inability to handle lawn care. I need help, and I fully intend to get it. I'll be a better Gerry Brooks for this. And maybe Billy Bush will interview my mother to uncover some deep seated issues. That Billy Bush has the best teeth in the business, you know."

"Can you pick up some milk at the store?"
"As a matter of fact, no I can't. I'm busy doing...something. Back to rehab for me!"

NEWS ITEM: NBC 30 news anchor Gerry Brooks is doing yet another stint in rehab. According to his former publicist, Brooks is a publicity-seeking sloth in search of higher ratings and someone, anyone, to fawn over him.
In a statement, Brooks said: "I'm ashamed of my inability to run errands. I need help, and I fully intend to get it. I'll be a better Gerry Brooks for this. And maybe I can be a role model for others who have this problem. Yeah, that's it. A made-for-TV movie about redemption and...well...redemption's enough. Maybe that Java lady from the newspaper will even call me."

NEWS ITEM: NBC 30 news anchor Gerry Brooks has been released from rehab after seeking help for a rehab addiction. "I don't get it," said Brooks. "It worked for Mel and Miss USA. Everybody loves Robert Downey, Jr. now, and who didn't cheer Robin Williams after his second stint? Even that kid from Waterford on "Desperate Housewives" got ink. And I'm not even gonna talk about those precious little starlets with the parents who can't shut up. No "Access Hollywood"...not even Java called. You know what I am? Bitter. Really bitter. Hey, is bitter a disease? I could be a trailblazer for bitter. Yeah, that's it. Rehab for bitter. Check me back in."