March Madness

Gimme some stats University of Rhode Island.

Not the overall record of Jim Baron in his eleven years as head coach of the men's basketball team: 184-166. Not the times that Baron was awarded Atlantic 10 Coach of the Year: Three. Not the number of seasons that he coached his team to twenty plus wins: Six.

I don't want to hear about this year's losing record, during a time of complete and total team rebuilding: 7-24. And please don't bring up the amount still owed to Baron, to be paid in addition to the salary for an incoming coach: One million bucks.

What I want to know, as an alumni of URI, is the number of players that not only stayed in school during Baron's tenure, but graduated, you know, with a college degree.

Call me silly, but isn't that the true objective of an institute of higher learning? That all students, athletes or not, achieve a quality education? Coach Baron got it. He understood the importance of not only obtaining an advanced degree, but using basketball as a means to get it done.   

URI leadership? Not so much.

"Right or wrong, a Division I basketball program these days is judged on, 'Did you make the tournament or didn't you'," said University of Rhode Island athletic director Thorr Bjorn in Monday's Providence Journal.

Wow. So, with that, we'll be seein' ya, Coach Baron. Nothing personal. It's just business.

But it shouldn't be.

Coach Baron did a rare thing during in his tenure at URI; he conditioned his players to see hoops as a jumping off point for life. And in a culture based on instant gratification and impatience, yeah, much like that displayed by the URI top brass, ready to judge the success of their program on a single NCAA appearance, Baron showed true character.

It could have been a great moment for you, URI--an opportunity to change a bit of college sports culture.

But you, like so many before, blew the call.

My Own Private Antiques Roadshow

It's all so easy when you're watching Antiques Roadshow from your couch.

Twenty grand for someone to take that moderately creepy wardrobe off your hands? You know, the one you dropped $300 for in 1987, even though those realistic baby faces, burned into the wood, seemed to stare through you from beyond.

Where's the dilemma, here? Buy low. Sell high.

But what if you sorta like what you've got?

Enter our latest thrift shop score. My dad gets complete credit for the find. We put him on the case for heavy, metal, vintage patio chairs. The kind you'd see outside motels in the 1950's. (Shout-out if you've got some.) He stepped it way up and expanded the search for any type of outdoor furniture.

Sadly, this might be the last time. Dad has a good eye.

"They're really neat," said Dad. "I've never seen anything like them before. I'd buy all of them."

Yup. You probably should have.

Because beneath the seat bottom, next to the wads of gum, was a label:

40/4 Chairs. David Rowland. 1980.

It didn't mean a thing to us, but a quick Google search revealed we were in possession of something kind of special--drumroll please--a small collection of the world's first stacking chair.

Apparently, back in 1963, industrial designer David Rowland developed these as alternative to folding chairs, creating a product that could store compactly, with 40 chairs fitting in a space 4 feet high, without compromising style or comfort.

Other fun facts: Mr. Rowland's chair is in the permanent collections of the Museum of Modern Art, the Louvre Paris, the Design Museum London, and for now, our basement. According to his obit in the New York Times, the original steel and plastic model sold for $16. Today, prices start at $100. Um, let's just say we bought low.

So the question remains: Will we sell--high or otherwise? Verdict's still out.

The truth is, I kind of like owning piece of history. And I'm not sure you can put a price on that.

Walking Pneumonia, Step Off!

I've been sick for five weeks.

Five. Weeks.

If you need a bit of perspective, in that same amount of time, Lenny Kravitz started the US leg of his Black and White America Tour, criss-crossed the country and is two days away from wrapping it all up.

On a bus.

Don't cry for me Argentina. I've recently gotten my sense of humor back. Which apparently reappears before any desire to work out, clean my house or grocery shop. I guess that's a good sign. Plus there's gratitude. See.

Oh, Thank You Walking Pneumonia for Teaching Me...

10.  The lasting power of a Shellac manicure is not a measly two weeks. It's closer to seven. Well, at least on my non-dominant hand. The right one is looking a bit crack whore.

9.  At 6am, 19 Kids and Counting works as a gentle time release sedative.

8.  My husband married me for my laundry skills. In sickness and in health. Emphasis on sickness.

7.  Running a bath in a soaking tub is a simple task, if you remember that a) a repair man lowered the temp on the water heater, in 2010 and b) boiling pots of water on the stove, will indeed provide the necessary warmth, as well as a faint chicken soup aroma from last week's dinner.

6.  Excessive TV viewing triggers some sort of alarm at the cable company, reminding them your free introductory package, the same one that's been killing your brain cells since 2009, needs to be cut off. Immediately.

5.  Intelligent reads like The Happiness Project, MWF Seeking BFF and the entire collection of Pamela Ribon, can prevent you from drooling in a corner.

4.  Taking Clarithromycin 500 mg, twice a day, for ten days, will make you feel like you've been left in a car with the windows up, during the height of the summer, in the deserts of New Mexico.

3.  That refreshing hydration drink you've been chugging, no really chugging, contains citrimax, which is not some sort of exotic juicy tropical fruit you've pictured in your mind, but a heart palpitation inducing dietary supplement. 

2.  Do. Not. NOT. Attempt. Your. Taxes.

1.  You should never, ever, ever say out-loud, 'Gee, I haven't been sick in a while.' Superbugs are listening.

Let's Start At the Very Beginning

When did I decide to become a professional writer?

The year? 1989, when the following essay snagged a top ten spot in the Providence Journal Reading Week Editorial Contest. At the awards ceremony at the Biltmore Hotel, I received a Cross pen, a cheesy wood grained plaque with my name engraved on it (that still hangs over my desk) and a belief that I had indeed found my passion in life.

So, without further adieu, I present one from the archives:

Substance Abuse: A Growing Problem?

Substance abuse has risen in recent years, the result of the overall increased use of controlled substances. Not all, but much of the problem lies in the sporting world, where the problem is publicized the most. Many athletes use drugs to enhance their performance. What these athletes fail to recognize is the strain that they are putting on their bodies by using these 'high-performance' drugs.

Some of the most exploited drugs of our times are anabolic steroids, composed mainly of synthetic testosterone, the chief male hormone. These drugs are banned in the United States, although they may be used by a qualified person in the medical field to treat a select number of patients. Yet, signs of steroid use appear again and again during athletic competition, most recently at the Olympic Games in Seoul, Korea, bringing the downfall of Canadian superstar Ben Johnson.

The case of Johnson should set an example for other steroid users, by showing the negative aspect of taking the drugs. But these athletes seem to ignore the warning signs, instead constantly making rationalizations for their use of steroids. They frequently argue that because everyone else is taking steroids, they must too, just to compete.

No longer is athletic competition based solely on natural ability. Some athletes believe that they cannot win without the aid of drugs. True, there appears to be positive aspects from the user's point of view. The increased strength, speed, endurance and self-esteem may initially improve their performance, but the dangerous side effects far outweigh the beneficial results of the drug. Severe health problems face the drug users, problems which normally would not occur until much later in their lives. These athletes give little or no concern to the ill effects of the drugs on their bodies, instead only focusing on victory.

Another problem which occurs when the sporting world is plagued by drugs is one that affects the general public, the fans of the athletic personalities. Children especially admire sporting superstars. They idolize athletes and give them heroic-like qualities. How can a mother explain to her young child that taking drugs is wrong when the child's role model is physically contradicting the mother's words?

Yes, drug abuse is a growing problem in today's society. To address this issue, we must first recognize the fact that drugs are not glamorous and neither are the drug users. Secondly, we must enforce harsh penalties on the offenders, setting examples for prospective drug abusers. An action directed specifically towards athletes is unannounced drug testing, given periodically throughout the year, not just immediately before competition. Offenders should be suspended indefinitely from their respective sports.

Regretfully our society will probably never be fortunate enough to be totally drug-free, but with immediate action and cooperation among the people of our civilization, maybe future generations will live in a brighter world.

Life On and Off a TV Set

Maybe I was just cranky because I hadn't finished my first cup of coffee.

Highly doubtful.

Sometimes I wish I could turn my brain off, and just think in single words, like a squirrel: Nut. Hungry. Car.

Nope.

Instead, my overactive noggin' goes deep into contemplation mode, even before 9am, considering stuff like the great societal implications of a new Cover Girl commercial starring Sofia Vergara and Ellen DeGeneres.

The two funny ladies doubled up recently for this thirty second spot promoting some sort of two-in-one concoction. I wasn't even really paying attention until I heard Sofia say, "That's what I was supposed to say now." To which Ellen responded, "Well, no one can understand you."

The camera panned to Sofia, the beautiful Colombian actress and star of Modern Family, who gave some sort of self-depreciating, shy smile, like, oh, silly me.

If it stopped here, I could have let it go. But of course it didn't.

In the next frame, Ellen continues to mock Sofia's English, first saying, "See, that's what I was talking about. See, what did you just say?" But then it goes way over the top, with Ellen stuttering her version of a Spanish accent.

Pause and watch. I'll wait.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-7YzJr3ZJu0&NR=1&feature=endscreen

Now tell me, which part of this is okay?

Granted, I understand Sofia has developed her schtick from being cheeky, self-effacing and difficult to understand. I get that Sofia, as a Latina, has the right to make fun of her accent, all the way to the bank. I also comprehend both ladies are comediennes, acting in a scripted piece.

But you'd think that somewhere in the creative process, someone, anyone, would have paused and said, hmmm, if we lived in a world that could tell the difference between satire and stereotypes, we'd be okay. But we don't, so let's work out another angle for this advertisement.

Think the modern viewer isn't making assumptions from what they see on tv? Think again.

One of my girlfriends, born and raised in Puerto Rico, has lived on the mainland for 20 years. She speaks Spanish and English fluently. Yes, with an accent. Recently, while talking to her son, a girl approached and said, "Hey, you talk just like that woman on Modern Family. Do you live near her?"

Her son replied, "No, we don't live on a TV set, stupid."

These words? They bear repeating.