I don't like Ike

It was bad enough that Ike did a huge amount of damage to the TX and LA coast, leaving millions without electricity and thousands wondering what was left of the homes they fled. Until Sunday afternoon, I was simply an observer, monitoring the destruction from my comfy seat in front of frequent updates from CNN.

That was until I arrived for my Delta flight to NYC, departing gate 12 at SA International Airport. I was supposed to connect in Cincinnati. But as we sat on the tarmac waiting to take off, the pilot informed his captives that Ike had produced 60 mph winds in Cincinnati, causing the air traffic controllers there to flee the tower. I quickly sprung into alternate-route mode.

My pivot to a 6:10 p.m. flight connecting through Atlanta and arriving at JFK at 12:35 a.m. was brilliant. Or so I thought. Upon landing in Atlanta, I learned that my good friend Ike had caused delays in the plane that would carry me to JFK. Here I sit. Waiting to depart ATL at 1:45 a.m., arriving at JFK at 4 a.m. A quick trip in a fine NYC cab should put me to the hotel around 4:45 a.m. I'll likely catch 3 hours of sleep, and then it's off to my meeting in mid-town. Then I catch a 5:30 p.m. flight Monday headed home to San Antonio. My fingers are crossed that Ike and I don't cross paths again. I really don't like Ike.

Moving My Life

Boxes. Tape. Dolly. Rental truck. Rental Unit. I'm tired of moving my kids. From dorm rooms, apartments. You name it. No mas. And the last two have been without my main man SAS picking up the slack on my lack, of muscles that his.

Today finds me in Oklahoma, nursing tired legs, arms and shoulders after moving the T child from her apartment. Stephen? I need you, man. Pick me up, brother.

Ok, I understand your need to chill with SN. That's cool.

But why can't I rent moving help with the same ease of renting a U-haul. Today, I can go online and specify a 14" truck to be reserved on a particular day, tell them how long I need it, etc. Why can't I do the same with human assets. Let me see ... I'll pick the 6'2", 190 lb. guy who bench presses 322 lbs, has manners like an English butler and the stamina of a Jack Russell. I only need him for 6 hours. Click the box, move to the shopping cart, I'm done. Then, I do what I do best. Supervise.

U-haul executives, U hearin' me? I've got consumer needs. Please meet them. 'Cause I cannot do another move without my main man, or at least one I can rent.

[Disclosure: Aaron did a large amount of lifting on the T move and I'm not looking to replace him. Only myself.]

Peace. Out.

JoJo

Raezinski lands in Crack-kow

My little Polish Rae-Rae. Girl has run away from home for the summer. I pleaded with her: "No! Don't go Rae! Stay in San Antonio, that's the place you otta be, but she loaded up her bag and she moved to Crack-er-lee." Fans of Jed Clampett will feel me.

Have only received a brief e-mail from my raebae. She was not real high on the food. Wasn't able to gormandize much in her first 24 hours in town. Bland and nasty were two words that came to her mind. I'm confident she will find a fine grilled cheese before too long.

She did a little class work with Doc Kramer and found it interesting. Walked around the town square. Liked what she saw. That's about it.

Rae, if you can read this blog from an Internet cafe in Crack-kow, give me a shout back and let Solski know you be OK.

Your Momsinski and I Love you,

Popsinski

She loves them ponies

The run for the roses left many folks sad. yes, they lost their lunch money on bets they shouldn't have made and yes it was tragedy we witnessed when eight belles broke both legs and had to be put down.

But the race reminded all of the betting prowess of one Sarah T. I got a call an hour before the race with her picks: eight belles to WIN and big brown to PLACE. Well, she got the top two ponies right, but reversed. That girl could always pick 'em. Impressive. Next year -- Vegas.

Perfect to a "T"

Sarah T is the champ. No ifs, ands or buts about it. She picked the Jayhawks in the NCAA Final and JoJo and Aaron didn't. So lift your pint to this lassie and wish her well in the offseason.

She's a basketball picker from way back, no doubt. Her skills have been honed over the past 10 years of participating in the In Your Face Disgrace bracket brawl put on by the AT&T pr troop. She has led the IYFD before, but she has always faded after the 3rd round. Not this year.

She loves her Jayhawks and always has. You see, her grandma GG was raised about 11 miles from Lawrence, in little Tonganoxie, Kansas. GG taught Sarah T. had to shout Rock Chalk Jayhawk, Go KU when she was just a little pint.

Enjoy the next 11 months while you can T, 'cause Aaron and I will be gunnin' for you next March.

Congratulations, you are the champ.

Old Man Bolts to the Lead

That's right, the old man (pictured on the right at Augusta two days before the 2004 Masters, which kicks off next week) pulled a rabbit out of his ballcap by going two-for-two in the national Semis -- smokin' the young uns with picks of Kansas (had to go with the 'hawks seein' Bill Self and I went to the same high school and college) and Memphis (spent plenty of time on Beal St. with STS in an A-frame toddler-carrier strapped to my back).

The toteboard stands at:

ls 81

ss 79

ab 78

Never before has a race remained so tight throughout. Parity has hit the March Madness bracket ranks. No longer does one picker run away from the field. It's tight, tight, tight ... and that's alright.

OK. Who you going with Monday night? Stay tuned.

Final Four in SA Town

Score is ss 74, ab 73 and ls 70.

Here we go. Picks for the Final Four:

North Carolina (ab) vs. Kansas (ls, ss)
Memphis (ls, ab) vs. UCLA (ss)