Another day in the Boneyard for me. I have to get rid of some thoughts so I can function and the Boneyard is the only place where I can safely deposit them.
My first thought concerns the recent trip Mary and I took to Salem, Oregon. Man, Oregon sure is green and lush and full of beauty. We were there trying to re-energize ourselves (which we did) and we stumbled across an independent film theatre that was showing 20 Feet from Stardom, the story of backup singers who were essential to the music of the 1950s and 60s but who never got the full deserved credit for their talent.
It is an amazing documentary and again shows, for me, the ugly head of racism that existed then. Music studios back then did not headline many of the black singers for fear the white population, which was crucial to financial success, would not purchase their records.
In that sense, the film produced sadness and anger in me because of the beauty of the music those backups were able to produce but could not profit from. There were plenty of examples in that period of studios hiring black singers to produce a record and then issuing it under a white group that would lip-sync the song. This was especially so for the songs sung by Darlene Love.
Darlene Love
So in the film great singers like Lisa Fischer, Judith Hill, Mable John, Claudia Lennear, Merry Clayton and Love were stifled when they tried to become solo acts. Love has gone on to have success (she has been inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame), but it wasn’t as easy as it should have been.
This old racism act has really got me bummed. There continues to be an undercurrent of racism in this county that appears in various contexts. I think of the “Stand Your Ground” law in Florida and other states that is a not-so veiled attempt to allow somebody like Zimmerman to be acquitted of murder.
A lot of these type laws are emerging from the South and is the same ol’ dance that has percolated just beneath the surface since the Civil War. It’s almost as if the South is rising again.
It all makes me sick that there are humans who still think color matters, and that whites are entitled to be supreme.
I’m not one to jump on bandwagons. I would rather walk then ride with the crowd. But if I were to ride it would be with the Seahawks’ bandwagon. Their exhibition game victory over San Diego was impressive. It shows the depth Pete Carroll has. I’m not predicting like the Go-To-Guy is that they will go unbeaten in the regular season, but the Seahawks deserve the national recognition they are getting.
But I would issue a warning. If Russell Wilson goes down with an injury, that bandwagon will blow out a few tires. It’s alarming to put so much in one basket. Not that the Seahawks have a choice. I’m not sold on T-Jack as relief quarterback. He would have to show me more than he did in his first incarnation with the Seahawks
Of course, T-Jack has to beat out Brady Quinn for that backup spot, which he should.
Does it look to you like age has caught up with Raul Ibanez? He is 41 and has not hit a home run since he hit two on July 12 against the Angels. He has been stuck on 24 homers since, a stretch that covers 24 games.
I agree with the Angels’ Mike Trout, by the way. Trout has said he would like to see players who get caught using PEDs to be banned for life from baseball. I’m glad he spoke out. When a guy like A-Rod, who admitted his use a few years back, uses performance enhancing drugs it ruins the game for players who perform the game honestly.
Think of it this way: If I’m a player who works his butt off, plays as hard as I’m capable, and do well and then watch as somebody on PEDs does much better and gets handsomely rewarded by a huge contract, how does that make me feel?
I either have to take PEDS too, or watch as somebody who is on them takes my job and I wind up driving a garbage truck for a living (not that driving a garbage truck is bad; those guys get paid well).
It’s totally unfair and I agree with Trout that baseball needs to have a zero tolerance rule against their use. Get caught, you are out (of the game). And I think the rule ought to be called the “A-Rod Rule.”
Obviously, I don’t like A-Rod. He’s an insincere guy who doesn’t get it that he’s not liked. He seems oblivious to his faults and just keeps going like nothing has happened. He’s sullying the game with his behavior and the use of high-paid lawyers to take on MLB. He’s almost Roger Clemens in personality. Both of them think they are better than the game itself, and they can do what they please.
The sad thing about all of this is that when A-Rod finally arrived in Major League baseball for good in 1996 with the Mariners, I quickly accessed his ability and thought to myself that this guy would break all the records I figured Ken Griffey Jr. would claim.
I actually thought that Griffey would break the MLB Career home run record that was then held by Hank Aaron and that A-Rod would break that. As it turns out, A-Rod will probably not break the home run record (now held by another alleged PED user, Barry Bonds at 762) even with suspected chemical use.
Griffey, of course, was hampered by injuries from accomplishing what I thought he would. His injuries mainly came after being traded to Cincinnati.
I really believe MLB should have two Hall of Fames. One for the clean player and the other for the dirty ones. Baseball could put the dirty one in Gorst at Otto Jarstad Park. Bonds, Clemens and A-Rod would be early inductees. Pete Rose would have to be in it, as would Ty Cobb.
Actually, we just should call it the Baseball Hall of Shame.
I’m with most people that I can’t quite figure out why A-Rod would do something he didn’t really need to do. Same with Bonds, whom I thought prior to his suspected drug use was already Hall of Fame caliber.
But who knows what lurks in the minds of some people?
Will I ever vote for A-Rod or Bonds for Cooperstown?
If the vote was held today, no.
I still think Bonds was good enough to be in Cooperstown before he stooped so low. But I’m having a tough time justifying it based on what everybody suspects but MLB didn’t prove. So we’ll see. Maybe I’ll die before I have to cross the bridge.
That’s enough for now.
Be well pal.
Be careful out there.
Have a great day.
You are loved.