'You ask whyyyyy? We don't give a f...'

Instead of sheep, those lyrics by Boss leap frogged through my somnambulant glazed condition all night. Whyyyyyy? Ray Rice, baby. And if you have been on another planet segue to TMZ and watch the brutal Rice video. The assault actually begins by the pillar in the hallway of the casino where Rice is waiting for Janay Palmer; you see Rice spit on her as she walks by him; she in turn spins around and slaps him with the back of her hand. They step into the elevator. The doors close. And Rice punches Palmer twice in the face, knocking her out cold. The violence is so shocking that a nation who hero worships on Sunday across the ballparks of America, collectively grabbed their devices and went all HAM yesterday. A viral shit storm hit the airwaves. On this day, and in this age, you might run, mofo, but you can't hide.

Some things I learned yesterday: 1. That TMZ a national broadcasting news rag is more powerful than the National Football League because evidently TMZ knew how or whose palms to grease for a copy of the casino elevator video feed. 2. That the aforementioned NFL could have procured a copy of that tape from Rice's attorney by asking. 3. By not digging deeper in their investigations, the NFL and the Ravens chose to believe and pander to the soft story the star athlete was selling. 4. That before the TMZ video yesterday, there were some who thought 'she' provoked 'him.' JesusH.

Roger Goodell, the NFL commissioner. The only thing he will be remembered for is 'Elevatorgate.'

Head coach, John Harbaugh's presser. Pathetic. Left on an island by Steve Bisciotti, the owner, and Ozzie Newsome the GM, Harbaugh looked uncomfortable and fell flat on his face trying to put a spin on a crime that has no spin. WTF?

Head coach, Jim Harbaugh, the brother of John, preached zero tolerance to his team, the SF 49ers, regarding domestic violence. Defensive lineman Ray McDonald was arrested, for allegedly hitting his pregnant fiance. The 49ers chose not to suspend McDonald but to play him because they were 'down' a couple of lineman. Huh?

If you talk it, walk it. Zero tolerance takes stones, my friends. Evidently, in the NFL no one has grown a serious pair yet.

Eat a....

1. Fickle. I bet that's the first word that crossed through your mind.
Thought I blew you off for the summer? Well as you could see from the previous post, things did derail me. But, tempus fugit. Remember that Carly Simon song from the 70's??? The one which had us all, on pipe filled Saturday nights, speculating as to whom the song was about? The one with the spectacular lyrics 'there were clouds in my coffee?' Well, I went to Saratoga Springs too and my horse (s) won; but it also was James Fenimore Cooper country, and absolutely lovely. Verdant. Pastoral. Sultry. Over tea one morning, I asked if it snowed in Upstate during the winter, and the denizens rolled their eyes and laughed. The restaurants were old school. Many of them flourishing under 2nd or 3rd generation ownership. It was refreshing for a change not to be presented with a fussy California menu. There wasn't a meal I met that I didn't like. Everyone was kind and informative. The frozen custard, step aside gelato, outstanding. The lakes placid and very forgiving.

2. The O'Henry peach. The season is short, my friends. Grown in and about the Central Valley, the crop is bountiful this year. From a distance in the
produce section blushing hills of ripening flesh made for good eating. Peach pie. Peach cobbler. And peach ice cream. Come to mama...

3. The Kurds have deployed all female military units to bolster the front lines in Iraq...Peshmerga women have been fighting in the field since the late 1990's, and have earned a reputation for their fierceness and bravery. Ponder this: the Jihadists don't like facing women in combat, because if killed by a woman they believe they will not go to heaven.

4. The A's. I leave Cali and they're in first place. I return, and they're sucking donks.

5. Joan Rivers. The red carpet will never be the same.