Breaking News: My retirement from writing

Writing and I are getting a divorce. Pour a drink, pull up a chair, and play the Michael Bolton music. There may be some man tear dust in the air here soon.

An old man once told me. Get out before you stink up the profession. Never mind the fact that he was drinking warm red bull and picking up a half eaten sandwich at Union Station, Perhaps, profound thoughts occur at your lowest point. Maybe he was really hungry and didn’t want to pity any fools. Either way, as old man advice will do, it hangs with you through the years.

The time has come for me to hang up the writing gloves and do something else.


What else? Badminton tournaments are an option. I’m not just talking about a middle school P.E. class battle between a punk kid and the overweight female gym teacher who doesn’t shave. I am talking about the biggest and baddest players on the earth. Natural geographic carnage. I’d seek these people out.

I could go to Francis Park and whisper sweet nothings into the statue by the fountain. Is there a fountain in Francis Park? Let’s table that one.

I could work at Dairy Queen for obvious reasons.

I could go out and get a real job.

Worldwide coffee shop philanderer could work. Go around the world, beg for coffee, get really worked up, and come home to recount my tales.

The radio business is soaking up some time so I could just talk more there. Being the voice that literally wakes up St. Louis takes time so I could work on that.

Writing is hard shit, bro. It’s homework for life. An everlasting chore. A need to impose a will that most find annoying. Delivering white hot passionate takes about the Cardinals only gets you 20 parody accounts and hate DM’s. What’s the worth?

Why write about who to find in the free agent trade market when a hundred other sets of hands are writing the same thing? It isn’t like Baseball Reference is special to just a few writers. WAR, OPS+, DRS. How about GTFOOH? Get the fuck out of here. Try that out. Oh, wait. You can’t say fuck. Family site. Too bad. Let Quentin Tarantino work it into his last film.

I could finally finish one of my seventeen screenplays. Wait, that’s writing. Scratched.

I could travel around and interview the safe zone dwellers who were struck down by the Donald Trump election triumph. We could discuss their future in dark caves in remote locations where all they can eat is ramen noodle and spam. Talk about Huff Post Podcast worthy.

I could be a better husband and father. Stop telling Vinny hold on or give me a minute while I finish an article. The minute really is an hour anyway. No, this won’t happen.

I now understand when people say enough is enough or a passion dies a thousand deaths in the right time of November with the temperature under 40 degrees. Sometimes, a thing just can’t last.

I could blame it on Tate Donovan. What a prick.

Hilary Clinton deleted my urge to inform.

Gordan Ramsay told me I had fat fingers.

The keyboard thinks I’m ugly and filed a lawsuit against my hands.

Tom Cruise didn’t run enough in my articles.

Hollywood wants to reboot my writing so I have to stop.

Bruno(the #1 Twitter handle for Cardinals knowledge, not the actor or musician) made me do it. (Imagining the sound of his high pitched voice telling me how bad I am makes my stomach hurt).

Daniel Winnett was no longer optimistic about my writing’s future.

John Mozeliak finished second in negotiating for my writing to continue.

Real Housewives wouldn’t whine about it.

The Bachelor didn’t give my writing a rose.

My writing went to the same restaurant that Tony Soprano went to before the fade to black and Journey song.

It went to the same doomed construction site that Stringer Bell went to.

It met Negan and that barbed wire baseball bat.

Let’s just say I have had enough and will retire from writing at the tender age of 34.

It started with 3,000 word email/rants to a group of friends.

It ends with KSDK, St. Louis Game Time, and Inside STL ramblings that look semi professional.

This is the end. Thanks for reading if you did. If not, thanks for leading to this decision.






By the way, this is all bullshit. There’s no way in hell that I’m stopping.

November FOOLS! Yes, that’s a new thing. Happy Thanksgiving!





Learning from Orlando: Preaching Acceptance

What if we dropped the gun laws and political jargon and just preached acceptance? My wild theory.

Why can’t we just lay our egos and beliefs aside and learn to accept one another for who we are?

Let me back up and explain.

I’m an emotional person. When something bad happens, I react immediately. I wish I could take my time and wager a few thoughts but I just say or do what comes to me right then. I came out of the box swinging hard on Monday with my initial reaction of The Orlando Shootings. Like a boxer going for the knockout in round 1. Let me try again.

Part of being human is not only being yourself but accepting that certain things are out of your control. This shooting in Orlando has been on my mind for three days and I haven’t been able to wrap my head around the logistics of a solution or how to help prevent it from happening again.

Continue reading “Learning from Orlando: Preaching Acceptance”

The real weapon of terrorism: Fear

What the St. Louis bomb threat and Orlando murders reminded us of.

The definition of fear: an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or a threat.

Earlier this morning, there was a bomb threat near Mercy Hospital in St. Louis, Missouri. Law enforcement and the Bomb squad had to shut down a portion of a major highway in the city, I-270, in order to defuse a bomb threat and ensure the safety of hundreds of people. If you were traveling between the Ladue exit and the I-64 interchange, you were derailed. For good reason.

This was a real threat. Sure, they blew up the two devices they found and all was well… Backpacks or duffel bags that may or may not have contained something terrible. It was real. You don’t shut down a major interstate on a hunch. 270 takes passengers from North County to South County. It connects cars to the central highway of the city in Highway 40, which takes them into the city or out to West County. It takes cars to I-44 and I-70. It is a major highway and the biggest one in the city. Holding that up costs businesses money and people time. It was done for a reason.

Hospitals are a juicy target. There are people of all ages inside a hospital and more importantly, there are caregivers. Kids, babies, middle aged folks, young doctors, and elder souls. Take out a hospital and you aren’t just taking away life, you are taking away care for life. When a terror attack happens, the first place ambulances and officers think of is a hospital. Take that away and it incites more fear. That is the greatest weapon in all of this. FEAR. Every time an attack takes place, the fear count triples.

It can happen overseas. It can happen in Paris, Russia, China, or on United States soil. Terror lead to a heightened sense of fear and a different way of looking at people. It’s easy and marketable to say an attack brings people together. It can also spread people apart. After the shootings at the Pulse gay night club in Orlando, Florida, I bet one out of every three people went to the gun store and bought. 1 in every 2 family members applied for a concealed carry license. When they walk down the street and see someone that unfortunately carries the skin color of a radical from ISIS or someone who merely unsettles them, violent tendencies will occur. Whether it’s for a legit reason or not, it will happen. Terrorism leads to more fear which leads to distinct reactions to race and therefore sparks terrible evil things inside the most innocent souls.

At the core of our nature, we are innocent and good. Every soul starts out as noble and well. It can then be twisted or bent into something else through teachings, events seen, or just a need to be different. Religion plays a heavy part in terrorism. More often than not, someone is trying to do right by their God by taking life. NBC News reported that the shooter in Sunday’s Florida killings called police and declared himself a radical of ISIS. This terrorism cell is coming over the water and onto USA ground. All of it comes from a certain belief.

I have no horse in the religious game. With no offense to slant to the believers in God, I believe in life, choice, and chance. I believe in what I see. Right now, all I see is death and violence. Via the US government, over 1.6 million people have died via domestic shootings since 1963. Since the 1700’s, 1.2 million Americans have died while serving their country. It’s real. When did the world become so violent? It all begins and ends with fear.

Whenever something bad happens, fear ratchets up like a volume dial. Once it goes up, it can’t go back down. It doesn’t matter who is in office. Obama. Trump. Clinton. Blah. The system remains the same with any talking head in the big chair.

Some say take weapons out of peoples hands. What good will that do a family trying to protect their home and future if evil comes knocking? Guns don’t go off by themselves people. Bad people get them and fire them. It’s all about the user and not the instrument. What about the various attacks where a man or woman has a weapon on them and takes out the shooter before more harm can be done? What about a good soul trying to protect his wife and kids carrying a weapon? Guns don’t kill people. People kill people. You can have four more Florida events and that won’t change.

No matter the weapon used, the end result is fear and what it does to people. Who can you trust? Will you be at the wrong place at the wrong time? Can you stop something from happening or merely wish to survive it? Evil lurks everywhere and there’s nothing we can do about it. What you can do is protect your own. There shouldn’t be a law against that.

Whenever something terrible happens, I look at my four year old son and wonder what I will tell him when he gets older and starts to understand this madness. What can one man do to calm his son of the chaos that awaits him one day. I’ll tell him that I still believe there are more good people than bad ones out there. I will tell him the evil have their hands full. That, at the end of the day, the good can still win. The painful thing is the fight is an ongoing one with no end in sight.

All we can do is hope the fear doesn’t spread so fast and produce wild reactions. Terrorism or not, the real damage comes from what we do to each other as a result of fear.

Or as Walter White once said…


The “I could” writers are the worst

If you say you are going to write, stop messing around and do it. If not, piss off.

There’s nothing more annoying than hearing someone on social media say they can write better than someone and not backing up with an actual piece of evidence. I call these people the “pretend” writers. The “I’m going to” or “If I had time” writers.

Let me make something crystal fucking clear. You either write or you don’t. Forget the promise or planning. Sit down and do it. Life passes you by while you are busy making plans to do something else. Opportunity and credibility also run past if you keep pretending.

I ran across this from one of my biggest trolls on Twitter last night.

Let me introduce you to Nick and what a troll is. A troll on social media is someone who doesn’t engage yet merely stops by to pick at an old scab and then run away. They pop up when they feel it’s time to hate and then disappear. They rarely wish to have a conversation. That would be too much. For example, this is the 15th or so time Nick has complained about these writers at the Post Dispatch. Keep in mind Jose Ortiz, Ben Frederickson, and Benjamin Hochman are all on social media and have accounts but Nick didn’t want to tag them for fear of actual engagement. He lists their names and trolls them. Nick is a coward. Don’t be like Nick.

The above tweet angers me most. “I absolutely could” is a big statement for a man who hasn’t written an article(or at least one that I could find) in the past year. He’s pretender. Continue reading “The “I could” writers are the worst”

Random musings during an oil change 

Setting: Starbucks cafe. 

Partner in crime: My son Vincent. 

I have 30-45 minutes to spare so let’s have some afternoon fun with a stream of consciousness. 

First off; how about them fucking Cardinals?! Yeah I said fuck. This isn’t ksdk so I can say mean words that upset people in certain zip codes. 

The Birds flew away from the nest ineptitude with a series win over the Giants and it was all about good pitching. Three games and solid starts all the way around. After a late nap on Friday against Johnny Cueto the bats came alive. At 30-27 the Cards are still shitty by the legendary standards their fans hold them to but baby steps were made. 

Since the Cards own the most playoff wins since 2000, fans can’t stand an average team. They want to sell parts in May. Close the season after 55 games. Done. There’s still time left and in case you forgot, there’s two wildcard spots and the Cards made a few impressive runs this past decade as a wildcard team. Keep the damn faith. 

Why do they do this? It’s easy to cast a team off. Better on the nerves. You don’t need to hold out hope. The fact is this 2016 team is bizarre. Their pitching is seesaw average but their bats are fierce. Their defense is ugly and their base running is elementary. They are impossible to predict but stick with them. Let them finish June, get halfway, and then the bandwagon fans have my permission to let their interest die. 

Rams Carelessness

For the first time since 1994, St. Louis has no football team to gauge or prepare for.  There will be no football in STL this year or next. Or the ten after that. 

That’s okay. Hockey and baseball are enough. I won’t watch much football this year. As a fan, they took my woman and my mistress. The Rams left and Peyton Manning retired. I’m not adopting a team. Sorry Chiefs fans. Sorry Jags fans. No thanks. I gave my restocked testicular fortitude to the Rams for twenty years. Got a super bowl out of it. That’s it. All I need. The truth I stopped giving a shit a few years back. When Stan bought his lot of land in LA. It was only a matter of time. 

I got better things to waste my time on. 

2016 lacks a dynamite film

In the sixth month of this year and no film has blown my tits off. Left me with that giddy feeling. No dynamic weapon yet. 

There have been good ones. Some of them even great or little more. 

13 Hours showed me Michael Bay wasn’t a complete waste of space. 

Midnight Special was a personal blend of ET and the Abyss mixed with Super 8. 

Civil War was one of Marvel’s best but it didn’t resonate like Dark Knight or Winter Soldier. 

Deadpool was hilarious but fleeting. 

There were others. Nothing outstanding. I’m still waiting for my Chef(2014 gem released in May). Waiting on a End of Watch(released in May 2012). A Purge Anarchy surprise. A sleeper slam like Killer Joe. A wide eyed tale like Martian. 

Maybe this summer will elicit something truly great. Maybe not. 

Muhammad Ali’s influence

A few more words on Ali. His influence was his greatest source of legacy.  Floyd Mayweather Jr. worked from the book that Ali built on opponent pre fight dissection. He taught fighters how to back up your words. He taught a nation how to speak up for yourself and stand strong. Save me the “he was a member of the Nation of Islam”. I won’t slam anyone’s religious beliefs. The people who get mad about a man not believing in their particular God can get bent. Get over yourself.  

Even when Parkinson’s robbed him of his physical gifts just two years after his career ended in 1981, he let the rest of his soul shine. There will be another like him. Just imitations. Rest easy champ. 

A word about David Freese. Last night in Pittsburgh, Pirates manager Clint Hurdle let the players sport penguins gear in practice. David Freese asked if he could wear a Blues one and got a look. Thanks Freezer. You can take the kid out of the Lou but you can’t take the Lou out of the kid. 

How serious am I about the radio? As the lovely Katie Kay Dallman pointed out to me a couple of weeks back, I passed up a chance to see my beloved Dave Matthews Band in Arkansas last month to do an extra night of We Are Live Radio. Those two nights of hosting a radio show on CBS sports radio proved how bad I want to do radio in the future. 

It has to do with a need to get my voice out there to an audience that doesn’t want to sit and read. It has to do with great guys like Chris Denman and Travis Terrell who gave me the chance. Radio is exciting and something I want in my future. Those two nights in May gave me and a few listeners a small peek into a future. 

Cards phenom Alex Reyes exited after 1.2 innings today. While he’s a white hot talent, the kid is young and only made four starts at Memphis. Give him time. There’s no need to rush a guy with that much skill. 

The kid is truly enjoying this oil change wait. 

There’s nothing wrong with resting Yadier Molina more. He’s only caught the most innings in baseball for quite some time. Save those knees. 

Mike Matheny is an expert at messing up the simplest parts of managing. 

Now that Banshee finished its legendary run on Cinemax, the must watch show is Kingdom. Yes Frank Grillo is in it but that’s only one of the reasons to tear into this MMA series. It’s DNA is marked in authenticity. If you like good drama, unexpected moments, great acting and some fights give it a shot. Audience network on Uverse. Channel 1114(114). 

Daddy realization. When your kid can function on his own but starts doing adult things like negotiate, work an IPAd, and cook his own food. “They grow up so fast” is the truest saying ever. 

Dream vehicle is still a truck. They are a lot of work but damn it a Dodge Ram is all this man needs. 

Iced coffee is always a good option but any coffee joint that can perfect a macchiato has my money. Four shots of espresso and some foam to ease the blow. 

Beer of choice at the moment. Stella Artois. A smooth drink and good year round. Also one of the healthiest beers on the market if you want to watch your figure and enjoy something without a light attached to its name. 

T-shirts are all I wear these days. The goodness of being a writer/stay at home parent is being able to grow a beard and having pants be optional for work every day. 

When you wear t shirts for a living, there’s a specific kind you grow to like. My favorite blend is the tri blend. Fine cotton, polyester and rayon. Ringspun cotton and modal are also nice fabrics. Yes I just went there. 

Closing comments and bits:

At this point I’m not voting. Please don’t tell me my one vote matters. 

Drivers ANYWHERE suck. Not just your city. 

Internet trolls are real people and sad ones at that. I’ve had 20+ accounts make a fine attempt to upset me by ragging on my family. Too bad their mom’s basement doesn’t have air conditioning. 

Band to listen to-Gaslight Anthem. Lead singers voice makes you feel everything.  

Show to watch later this year-Quarry on Cinemax. 

That’s all I got. Time to wrap this up. Thanks for digesting not this unprofessional random stream of thought. 

Stanford Rapist Gets off Easy: Painful sign of our times

Brock Turner brutally raped a woman and got six months. If this doesn’t make you mad, check your pulse.

Fuck you Brock Turner. You gutless piece of shit. What you did to an innocent 23 year old college student will never go away in the eyes of the right people. The law, including soft Judge Aaron Persky, decided you only needed six months of jail time for being found guilty on three felonies, including assault with intent to rape. Instead of getting the maximum of 14 years or even 3-5, you get six measly months. I can only hope someone inside gives you a friendly welcome.

Let me catch the rest of you up on the events. In January of 2015, a young woman took her sister to a party and woke up the next morning behind a trash can. She was missing underwear and was raped by a freshman. He ran off but was thankfully tackled by a pair of Swedes who were riding their bikes nearby. This woman would spend her night getting poked, prodded, and thoroughly examined by doctors. The feelings of her abuse would never simmer.

Judge Persky noted how more than six months of jail time would do too much damage to this young man, who was a noted swimmer. Yeah, too much damage for him but the woman he abused in the worst way will feel this for the rest of her life. She won’t be able to be touched, held, or stand close to another man for a long time. The closest people around her will tax themselves trying to make her feel safe. Her sister will feel terrible for bringing her to the party. Her boyfriend will be the uncomfortable shadow of a terrible memory. Thanks Judge for taking it easy on Poor Brock for invading a woman in the most uncomfortable way.  Continue reading “Stanford Rapist Gets off Easy: Painful sign of our times”

From STL to Arkansas: The evolving job status

Before you assume what I do for a living, let me go ahead and tell you.

I didn’t have a dream job in St. Louis. It was a decent paying gig and I did my best to make do without hating it. Ronnoco Coffee was the warehouse and I did a number of things for them. I worked the dock-unloading and loading trucks-as well as working in the production and picking areas. I drove the transfer truck and even roasted coffee for a few weeks. When you work in a warehouse, you do everything but sit around and count the squares on the wall. It’s busy physical work.

When it comes to warehouse grunt work, I’m a veteran. I’ve worked in six different warehouses for five different companies. Park 370 Schnucks, Senoret Chemical, Bommaritto Wines, Conway Trucking and Ronnoco. Each place has their own personal rigors and delights. You haven’t loaded a truck until you’ve pushed 60 skids of chemicals onto a 53 foot trailer with the driver sleeping inside his truck. I’ve driven a Yale, Toyota, Kawasaki, and a few other fork lift brands. The smell of propane in the morning is worse than a bad instance of gas from a football fan who loves bratwurst.

In December of 2014, my wife had an opportunity to acquire her own store. She was an assistant manager at the Tile Shop in Sunset Hills and had a chance to be a Store Manager but it would have to come in a different state. Florida and Alabama were possibilities. Then, Arkansas came up. Little Rock, Arkansas. It seemed harmless at first. A new beginning in a different place. The cover of the book looked great but if you flipped the pages inside too fast, the general climate of change would pass you by.  Continue reading “From STL to Arkansas: The evolving job status”