Hello everyone! It’s a Friday and I’m actually doing my duty and preparing for WWW this week. Life gets in the way too often anymore and I haven’t made this space the priority it deserves to be of late. So here I am. Let’s talk about some things.
The Last Word on Baker Mayfield and Hue Jackson…
I don’t care… Too brief? Too curt? O.K. Here’s some more.
I’m not convinced that anyone actually cares what Baker Mayfield had to say about Hue Jackson this week. I know the conversation was “everywhere” thanks to the talking head shows and Baker Mayfield’s willingness to craft an online response. That said, it all feels much ado about nothing.
If there’s one thing we know about sports media in 2018 as it heads toward 2019, the volume of chatter in the sports world isn’t necessarily indicative of importance. How many hours have been spent talking about Tim Tebow in a baseball uniform let alone in the sport where he made his name?
On top of that, I subscribe to the philosophy that if I don’t care what Colin Cowherd or First Take has to say when I agree with them, I definitely shouldn’t care what they have to say when it’s the opposite.
Plus, the Browns won a game. The Browns won an away game. The Browns won an away game against a divisional opponent that hired their former head coach and they did so with a quarterback that is good enough it led me to buy a couple of his jerseys in children’s sizes for a certain upcoming holiday. (Shhhhh! Don’t tell them! It’s a surprise!)
So, ESPN and First Take and Colin Cowherd and the rest of the sports world can talk about the things that Baker Mayfield said this week. I’ll continue to focus on the good things he’s doing on the field. That’s the enduring story in my world. I’m guessing it’s the enduring story in your world too.
Kids and swearing and music…
Some years back I worked with some fellow WFNY’ers on a playlist that would be played as my kids went to sleep. It started when my eldest son was born. At the time it was an iTunes playlist that I loaded on a couple of clearance iPod Nano MP3 players. Today, it’s a Spotify playlist that gets played from an iPad over a couple of cheap WIFI speakers by Hitachi in each of my sons’ room. That’s not the point of the story today though. This one is about an F bomb that made my wife and me laugh this week.
Despite the fact that it’s a “good night kids” mix, I insisted on putting real songs that I love on this playlist. At times, even softer, slower songs can have rough edged lyrics, but when my kids were infants and young toddlers, it was of no concern. Now that they are eight and six, it’s a little bit different, but I refuse to censor my own playlist because of an errant curse word.
One night this week, I loaded up the playlist and the first song up was “Family” by Noah Gunderson and for some reason the speakers were on full blast. Before I got a chance to fix that issues, in both of my kids rooms, Noah could be heard singing the opening lines.
Say something awful
as if fucking the world is your right
And I watch you stumble
drunk out into the night.
It’s a really beautiful song, but in this moment, my wife was a bit embarrassed. My six-year-old didn’t notice because he’s still oblivious. My eight-year-old thought it was really funny and looked at me knowingly because he’s heard that word before, though not from me or his mom. And that’s the interesting thing.
I don’t swear in front of my kids. I have a perfect record in eight-plus years of parenting. They’ve never heard me utter a curse word. My wife has slipped up here and there, but nothing all that notable. And just the same, despite my puritanical reign, I’m totally fine with these songs that include the occasional curse word.
I don’t know if it’s right, wrong, or just a personal choice, but I think I’m trying to teach my kids about artistic license more than anything else. You should mean it when you use a curse word and putting it in a song that you might have to sing every night for the rest of your life is a commitment if nothing else.
I loved The Meg even though it wasn’t good…
My only regret is that I didn’t watch the Jason Statham-led summer shark movie in a 3d theater during the summer movie season. While I’m sure many movie-goers were proclaiming they’d never get their 113 minutes back, I was totally satisfied with the giant shark movie.
I know it’s not for everyone, but when a movie delivers on exactly what it’s supposed to be — giving you a healthy dose of Jason Statham as a hero and (spoiler alert) multiple gigantic sharks, I’m unsure what else you could possibly want in life.
The Meg was goofy, campy, had a couple of scare jumps, and ultimately succeeded in not taking itself seriously at all. Unlike the latest round of Independence Day film, it didn’t sully a previous franchise. It stood alone even if it didn’t stand out.
See it. Or don’t. I don’t care. I loved this mediocre film!