I guess they are just gonna have to bend over and take it.
Looks like no don't really mean no after all, huh?
Are we sure the memo didn't say NRA, you know those initials look kind of similar to NFL. Maybe if we put this kind of effort into sensible gun laws we would have a few less non domestic violence victims too.
As previously stated, I am no fan of the NFL, they probably deserve everything coming at them and then some. But mob justice still looks pretty much the same regardless of whether the participants are wearing white hoods and bed sheets or power skirts and Vince Camuto shoes.
Domestic violence claims and child support are two toes on the same claw and, when teamed up with Family Court, have done more to destroy families than hookers and blow coupled with an open bar tab.
No you don't get to beat women. At the same time, you don't get to beat men either. This whole thing is nothing more than mass hysteria and the criminalization of manhood/fatherhood.
This train ain't going nowhere good and everyone on it will deserve the same thing the NFL is getting. You see problem is things are never quite as simple as your 60 seconds of network air time dictate it to be. So if you are not actually going to try and fix the problem, may I respectfully request that each and every one of you STFU.
Joe Sample was a musician that was comfortable in different settings.
He had a pretty good run with the Jazz Crusaders and he was rightly called a jazz musician. But I knew his music better from the non jazz side.
The best memory I have of Joe Sample was when he came to town to play a gig. Later that night he dropped by the local jazz watering hole to sit in for a few. Of course this was the one night I chose not to show up and had to listen for months to everyone talk about the night Joe Sample showed up.
It is with the greatest respect and utmost admiration that we acknowledge the passing of another pillar of jazz Mr. Gerald Wilson at the age of 96. He did us the favor of living a long and fruitful life thereby eliminating the need for us to speculate about what could have been. He showed us what could be done with a great talent, a little determination and the benefit of a long lifetime dedicated to the art of jazz.
I don't know if he ever set foot in a class room, but I do know that he was an extraordinary teacher. Even the most accomplished musicians need to be shown how to channel your artistic gifts into the proper format from time to time. If you understand it well enough you can make even the tin ears like me hear it.
You had to be careful when listening to his music. His orchestrations tapped into something that few musicians can consistently find. His music was just so right that it would force you to your feet and make you exclaim with joy because all the notes were exactly where they were supposed to be. Its as if he were inside your head and new what you wanted to hear before you even knew what you were listening to.
I came to Mr. Wilson late, the last 10 years or so, but Gerald Wilson owned a legacy that emanated from the very beginnings of jazz and, as far as I know, lasted up until his death. Mr. Wilson recreated and updated some of his previous master works and found a whole new audience including me.
You probably already have his music in your collection and didn't know it but do yourself a favor and get a copy of his "New York New Sound" and enjoy a real musical romp.
I wish I were better able to compose my thoughts but maybe Gerald Wilson can best say it himself.
I knew the NFL was a lost cause 10 years ago when women successfully lobbied for equal access to the men's locker room on the pretext that women reporters weren't able to get the same stories as men reporters. The men's locker room!
Now I have never been much of a fan of professional or amateur football but I do get it. The main attraction for many has been the joy of being in a room full of beer and snacks with your compatriots watching 300 pound men knock hell out of each other for fun and profit. This was simply an acceptable way to release your aggression so that when you went back to work on Monday you wouldn't choke the living shit out of that idiot supervisor of yours. You know, that whole opiate of the masses thing. I am still trying to understand why anybody gives a shit about football much less why women give a shit but here we are.
The sole redeeming quality of the NFL was that it provided a few sacred hours where men could bond with each other and, I can't stress this point enough, participate in a wholesome activity where they could get the hell away from the women folk. That's not anti women that's just the way it is. We are different creatures. Men are from Mars women are from Venus and we are supposed to do different shit. No girls allowed and your woman can't accuse you of being unfaithful. That was the deal.
Then those greedy somebitches at the NFL decided that women were an untapped market. The next thing you know everybody is taking sensitivity training and getting in touch with their feelings. I mean the whole point of the NFL is violence. As soon as little boys are old enough to put on a jock strap they are trained to aspire to this supreme level of violence. And surprise, surprise, surprise, turns out that football players can be violent.
I really don't think the value to our society of professional football players smashing into one another is worth paying them a gazillion dollars a year and I certainly don't think that the grand wizard of the NFL, who never has to get the hell knocked out of him, is worth 40 gazillion dollars a year. But they bout to take this bitch out on a humble. And I'm wondering if I should be sad or grateful.
Personally, I think women should be equal to men in every way possible. And I think we all should be held to the same standard.
Alls I know is that if any man in America had gotten liquored up and tried to attack Ray Rice in that elevator and gotten knocked the fuck out nobody would have thought twice about it. I'm just saying there is a difference between domestic violence and combat. And the whole Ray Rice episode looks like combat to me. But that doesn't seem to matter to folks who choose not to deal with facts.
I'm not saying that the elevator event was Ray Rice's finest hour or that perhaps he shouldn't have handled it differently or even that he shouldn't have to suffer the consequences of his actions. I am saying that losing a fight is not the same as domestic violence. And all you talking heads trying to build your careers on this one incident are doing way more damage than Ray Rice ever could. And now they got all these so called thought leaders co-signing this bullshit out of fear of being labeled pro domestic violence. Et tu Brute?
Well Jack what's your point. My point is this whole conversation is stupid and meaningless and I am truly tired of listening to it. Talk about the weather, talk about ebola, talk about why America needs to have a war or two every generation, talk about some real domestic violence victims, but get this stupid discussion out of my media feed.
Upon having the opportunity to visit a tourist locale recently, I took time to partake of the the local culture.
Now some cities are just making the best of what they got, and rely heavily upon the hype to put butts in the seats. And then other cities have a pretty comprehensive arsenal of entertainment choices. So when you are confident of your offerings you feel less inclined to prevent the urban leisure technicians from plying their wares. This particular city had a somewhat lax policy towards innovative self employment strategies.
Now we had just departed from the main tourist drag where you see pretty much everything including one enterprising individual dressed as an inanimate skeleton statue. When the tourist ventured too close he would lunge at them with a hearty "Boo" and point to his tip box as the crowds screamed with delight upon learning that a skeleton wanted nothing more than a tip rather than their soul. OK fair enough.
Further down the line the strip transitions into more of a town vibe with shops and bars and what not but still very touristy. Now here's where the hustle continues. Sitting next to a standard issue street trash can was a full blown urban leisure technician in full regalia complete with missing teeth and shoes with more hole than shoe. Now he was just sitting there holding a freshly cut and very leafy tree branch in front of him that obscured his presence from semi-drunk holiday mode tourists. Now when in a strange place with lots of people I pretty much I pretty much stay in threat detection mode so I spotted him right away. But most people didn't. And so the group of women right in front of us received the benefit of his offerings. I saw the whole thing. Out he jumped with his bush in hand with a hearty "Boo".
There was screaming and laughing and a quick little ruckus before home boy went immediately back into position for his next victim. A good time was had by all.
I got half a block down the street and said to myself "naw, I'm not letting that pass". That is a worthy hustle. I turned around and went back to hand homeboy a dollar and he directed me to his improvised tip jar, a restaurant take out box. Of course it is!
This renewed my faith in America.
Homeboy could have stood there pestering passersby for unearned financial favor and in this environment probably made a fairly decent living. But no! This brotha decided to join the capitalist system and earn his keep despite his lack of proper shoes, much less any type costume. And to be truthful about it, his contribution to his tourist based economy was just as valuable as most of the rest of the overpriced crap in town.
I don't know his name but homeboy is the recipient of the official jackedUPjazz hustle of the day award.