Road trip

I’m headed out on a 17 day road trip tomorrow morning and am unlikely to have anything new to say until I get back.

I’m flying to Memphis where I plan to visit the Stax Museum of American Soul Music (Soulsville), then heading down to Clarksdale, Mississippi for the Juke Joint Blues Festival. I plan to visit Holly Springs (long-time home of R.L. Burnside) and Oxford while in Mississippi, and before heading down to New Orleans.

There will be a dinner at Emeril Lagasse’s in NOLA and at least one day of the New Orleans Jazz and Heritage Festival.

After that I will work my way through Mobile, Birmingham and Atlanta, on the way to Myrtle Beach to take in the rich cultural attractions of that megalopolis.

God willing, I shall return to New York on May 4th and will give you a full report then – if it warrants it.

Thilla in Manila

There is a terrific new special running on HBO now called Thriller in Manila. While it focuses on their third fight, in October 1974, the film examines the long relationship between Mohamed Ali and Joe Frazier, their previous fights, the extreme animus between them, and the unusually polarizing quality the two camps had on American society in the last days of the Viet Nam era.

Which leads me to a confession: back in the day, if you were young and had even one once of hipness, you had to be an Ali fan. Ali was pretty. Joe was ugly. Ali was cool. Joe was country. Ali was radical. Joe was family values. Ali was fast and creative. Joe was a brute. I rooted for Joe.

This was partly just my contrarian nature, and partly because I didn’t really like Ali all that much. Yes, he had a certain undeniable charm, and I respected his decision not to go into the Army, even if it was the Muslims pulling his strings. But he talked too much for my taste and disrespected all his opponents, which was taken to the nth degree when Frazier gave him a shot to win back his title in 1971. Ali started out calling Joe ugly and progress through gorilla and Uncle Tom.

It was shameful in any event, but especially so since Joe had fought to help Ali get his license back and even gave him money when the ex-champ was broke. Joe deserved better and Ali’s claims 30 years later that he done it, “to sell tickets,” had a very hollow ring.

Then there was Joe himself. What a force of nature. He may not have been the best looking man in the ring, but he worked harder, punched harder, and took more hard shots than anyone, and he never gave up. Really, if it were not for that one weird fight with Foreman, when George knocked him down six times, I think Joe would rank right up there in the top three heavyweights of all times – ahead of Ali.

Some call it fraud

If you are still interested in understanding the current financial mess I recommend that you view a recent segment of Bill Moyer’s Journal. It’s a half-hour long, but it is a fascinating thirty minutes. His guest is William Black (left), now an economics professor, he was a senior litigator during the savings and loan crisis in the ‘80s. He has just written a book called, "The Best Way to Rob a Bank is to Own One."

He pulls no punches, calling the current situation a fraud that was organized, planned and executed from the top of a number of major financial institutions, and with the aid and support of legislators and regulators. He points fingers directly at Larry Summers, Bob Rubin, Phil Graham, Hank Paulson, Tim Geithner and a number of other well known people -- including George Bush, who transferred 500 FBI agents out of the financial fraud investigations unit after 9/11, and never replaced them. The net result is that today we have 1/5 as many FBI agents working this beat, while the AIG bleeding alone is greater than the entire S&L debacle.

And while he worked to elected Barack Obama, he has some sharp criticism for the way he is dealing with the problem now that he is in office.

Even if you don’t believe, as I do, that many financial executives and Congressmen are criminals, you may find Black persuasive when describing how intellectually dishonest we are in our attempts to even understand the problem. His comparison of the financial mess with the way we analyze aircraft accidents is very apt.

This is well worth your time.

Picking your team

Picking the team you want to win is both an art and a manifestation of all one’s experiences and prejudices – at least it is for me. I have a very firm set of rules, but their application and hierarchy are very subjective and subject to change at any time.

Let’s start with the basics: my earliest memories are of sitting on my father’s lap watching the Cleveland Browns. They are the nucleus of my sports universe. The Cleveland Indians and the Ohio State football team are very close to this core, as well. I root for them always over any team, without exception. The same is true for the Cleveland Cavaliers but I can’t put them at the same level – in fact, without a spellchecker you might not even recognize my version of the word meaning French swordsmen.

Next, regardless of sport, I root for teams from northeastern Ohio first, and then any team from Ohio over any team from someplace else. My next order of allegiance goes to the Big Ten, and then to teams from the Midwest, which I define as falling within an area bounded by Pittsburgh on the east, West Virginia on the south, Nebraska and Kansas on the west, and the Canadian border; however this area does not include Missouri or the Dakotas.

From here my allegiances become more variable, but there are some rules. I will generally root for an eastern team over a western team, and a northern team over a southern team. That said, I don’t think I’ve ever rooted for a team from New England other than the Celtics – and that was a long time ago and only because they had John Havlecheck. Actually I always root for the American League winner in the World Series, so I have rooted for the Sox.

I have never rooted for a team from New York.

I will almost always root for a public university over a private school, and never, ever, root for Duke, USC, Stanford, or Miami. I will occasionally root for Notre Dame but only if they are playing one of the aforementioned private institutions, or a Florida team in a bowl. I think of the-team-from-up-north as being in this category, although their Big Ten-ness trumps their other negative qualities when they play outside the conference.

Race plays a role -- especially in basketball. I don’t like all white or all black teams as much as integrated teams. Uniforms can tip the balance; as long as Phil Knight is dressing Oregon like circus clowns they will not have my support. Coaches can sway things too. Jim Calhoun at Connecticut is a negative example, Mike Singletary is a positive example, as I would otherwise never favor the 49ers.

Some teams I just hate. The Raiders, the Cowboys, the Dodgers, the Mets (although it is mostly their fans that I hate), the “U,” (in fact, pretty much any team from Florida except the Dolphins, and that’s only because of Paul Warfield).

Once there is no Midwestern team involved it can get complicated as some of these rules can conflict with some others. When there is no clear cut rule to apply, I root for underdogs – especially at home.

I have no idea if the above is the sign of a sick and overly idle mind or just my version of how sports fans think in general. Please enlighten me.

Go Spartans

If there is any justice in the world, Michigan State will beat UNC tonight at Ford Field in Detroit. It’s not just that the people of Detroit could use a victory, but also that a defeat will feel like another nail being pounded into the communal coffin if the sunbelt ballers get to put on their special tee shirts and ball caps under falling blue and white confetti.

It’s been a rough year in Motown. MGM is even trying to sell their Detroit casino. When you can’t make money gambling you know times are tough.

I have nothing against the North Carolinians. They have a nice team. And if this were the University of Michigan playing, say, Tehran Tech, I’d be out recruiting my own personal berka-clad cheer leading squad to root the Persians on to victory.

But these are the Sparties. The sons of the Midwest working class. Magic’s team. Go State!