Stopping them is still no easy task.
Stopping them is still no easy task.
Ford, aging, cold, and Kaczynski teasing.
2017 represented so many things that it’s hard to put it into words, but I’m going to try. Donald Trump took office, Hollywood’s elite took a blow, the Patriots won … Continue reading 2017: The end of the year rant
When a good parent meets evil, tragedy happens.
Let’s punch Monday in the throat with a stream of consciousness.
A day in the life of a shopper at Walmart.
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!
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.
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…..today. 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…

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.
I look at the columnists now like Ortiz, BenFred and Hochman. I absolutely could write better columns on sports in STL than any of them
— Nicholas Ebmeier (@ShortOfDaybreak) June 11, 2016
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. (more…)