take a nap after you rotate this.

this is MY last word on the subject. don't be coming HERE for any more lebum updates.

dear lebron,

you said that your "real" fans will still support you. you don't seem to understand that that is who you've really lost. all you have left are your basketball fans. you wanted to be a role model. there are 15 guys every year who earn a ring. there are plenty of those guys to look up to in the nba, if that's your new definition of a "role model."

your "real" fans believed you when you said that it was it was about more than a game. remember that? "more than a game?"

one day when you look in the mirror, the person that looks back at you will show you that you lost even him.

i am NOT and forever will NEVER be,
your #2 biggest fan

I guess it's time for an update on the lebron thing.  not like I have any news anybody's looking for -- this blog is only about OUR feelings, opinions, reactions.  last time I posted, it looked like we -- the cavs -- could be headed for the NBA finals.  no such fucking luck.  and since this side of the nbl is all about and only about MY thoughts, feelings, and reactions, don't be thinking that you'll find anything BUT that.

so, when we last spoke, we had hope.  hope and tremendous excitement for Cleveland basketball and my city.  we -- the cavs -- were still in the playoffs and playing well.  really well.  it was thrilling.  I was a fan -- as I said in the previous post, a fanatic fan (yes, I know -- redundant). then came game 4 of the Cleveland-Boston series.  Cleveland was up 2 games to 1.  game 4 was in Boston.  cavs lost.  no big deal.  it was a game.  sometimes you win, sometimes you lose.

game 5 back in Cleveland.  series tied 2-2.  jax and his girl, carrie, came with us.  the city was flying high.  before 3 or 4 minutes were up in the first period, I knew we were watching a basketball team meltdown.  I couldn't watch.  it was fricking unbelievable.  I had to pick up my iPhone and play solitaire to keep my blood pressure down.  

I am NOT, nor will I ever be, nor do I aspire to be a basketball expert.  all I know is that the cavs were totally not interested, involved, or engaged in this game.  ESPECIALLY lebron.  what the fuck?  all the experts want to talk about the coaching, the lack of any kind of offensive strategy, the elbow, whatever.  I'm sure that a lot of things contributed, but the overriding factor was the fact that the team fell apart.  totally and absolutely.  something happened.  I don't know what it was (frankly, I don't give a fuck), but it was there.  it.  was.  there.  and it pisses me off more than I can say, because these guys are in the BUSINESS of playing basketball.  and as professionals -- they acted like self-indulgent CHILDREN.   dan gilbert, the owner, said what I would have said -- that we didn't deserve that.  I paid 5600 HUNDRED DOLLARS for my 4 season tickets.  and close to ANOTHER THOUSAND for the seats during what little playoffs the cavs enjoyed.  pffft.  fucking grow up, assholes, and get out there and play basketball!  

but they never did.  they went down in game 5 in flames.  they sucked.  the series ended with game 6 in Boston where the cavs had 24 turnovers.  lebron had 9 of those.  unfuckingbelievable.  [you may or may not have noticed, but I sometimes make an effort to reduce the swearing.  sorry.  not today.]  

game 6 in Boston may have been the last time lebron will play as a cavalier.  nice job, bron.

at this point, I have already purchased my seats -- again -- for next season.  I fully plan to enjoy them next year.  I have faith that dan gilbert will put together a team.  that's HIS business.  

I'd love for lebron to stay.  for my city.  and because he IS a phenomenal player when he WANTS to be.  who knows if he will or is even entertaining the possibility of staying.  right now, he's just enjoying the summer of lebron.  it's ALL about lebron.  he is star of the world.  I'll be surprised if he doesn't call a press conference during the last game of the finals so that everybody tunes in to HIM and not the game.  more and more, everything is only about HIM.  

I'll never be the lebron fan that I was.  I thought, naively and mistakenly, that he was different.  that he cared about his city, that he wanted to be real, that he wanted to be a role model.  I believe now that he only wants to be the biggest celebrity ever.  that he is a pampered, spoiled millionaire, loving every minute of this carnival.  and he couldn't care less who knows it.  I don't believe one word he says -- everything that comes out of his mouth is a public-relations script.

we were driving into the city with friends the other night past the gigantic lebron photograph on the side of a building.  at the end of the season, the "witness" word was erased, replaced with the post-season motto, "one for all."  

they should change it now to "all for me."  don't count on me, bron.  not anymore.        

I have never been a fan as in the "fanatic" sense of the word of any team before as I am of the Cleveland cavaliers right now. oh sure, I've followed a couple teams now and then: THE Ohio state university bucks football teams (only since matt went to grad school there), a few of the Indians teams now and then. I've even been kind of a slightly vociferous (ahem) fan while watching some games. and then there was the fact that bill played baseball through college. he was even an all-American twice. I loved watching and, ahem, cheering at his games. I LOVED baseball. past tense. I subscribed to the George-carlin view of baseball as a cerebral game. not anymore. it's all about money and steroids, monkeys could play the game as it's played today. sorry. just the way I feel. so baseball bores the shit out of me. the racing ketchup and mustard bottles on the jumbotron don't hold my interest.

when lebron was in high school and the talking heads in the sports world were orgasmic over this kid, I would make gagging sounds to bill. I had 2 boys, one lebron's age; and I thought, "this kid is fucked. in a minute and a half, he's gonna be in big trouble with drugs. or gambling. or too many women. or..." so when the cavs got him, it was a big-whoop moment for me. big fucking whoop.

then we moved downtown. bill was excited because our cable company down here showed all the games. so when I noticed the something in the air thing, bill told me the cavs were playing, and plaintively whined, "pleeeeeease, come onnnnn!. let's watch the game!" I uncharacteristically agreed. got to give the poor guy something once in a while. I was mesmerized. the kid was unbelievable. and a team player!. holy crap -- didn't he know what the press were saying about him? after the game when he was interviewed by the big network announcer, he sure didn't sound like my 20 year old. he didn't sound like any 20-year old boy I ever knew. he spoke about team work and actually made sense. no sports double talk.

I was hooked. totally and absolutely hooked. we watched every game that we could after that. I bought a cavs hat. bill was in pig heaven. I was finally perfect in his eyes.

now, I'm a cavs season-ticket holder. we have 4 seats at center court. in the top row at the Q. I picked the seats. laugh if you want at the last-row thing; you cannot believe how great these seats are unless you've been with us. and when I say center court, I mean center court. bill sits on one side of the center court line, and I sit on the other. and we sit next to each other. we are at the top of the aisle, so no one sits in front of us. no one sits behind us. and this gimpy old lady loves it enough to not mind the trek up the steps to the seats. I hope to be making the long walk to the finals games in June. we purchased the same seats for next year.

you see, I have to believe. the cavs -- and lebron -- have become all mixed up in my love for this cool old town now. my poor Cleveland. the original rust-belt city. rusty and depressed and in a bad way. and now we are the most "miserable" city in the nation. John stossel (NEVER a favorite of mine) jumps immediately on the band wagon and does an entire series on how bad we suck. I'll admit that he may have made a good point in the obstreperousness and obstructiveness of our governmental entities here. look up "clusterfuck" in the dictionary. but. BUT. he also made no attempt to "get" Cleveland. Tony bourdain got Cleveland. if you haven't seen his piece on Cleveland and are interested enough to want to get Cleveland, you can see it online.

and I'm not just talking to out-of-towers -- I'm talking to you suburbanites. you are the biggest Cleveland haters of all. when - if ever - was the last time you went to the west-side market, a museum, or the orchestra? then shut the hell up.

by the way, the same government-supported "grocery" store John stossel derided as an example of Cleveland ridiculousness is the west side market, an amazing marketplace consisting of owner-operated and mini-shops. walk through the market on a crazy Saturday, and you'll get a big part of who we are. the market building was built in 1912, but the market operated on that site since 1840. many of the "shops" have been in the same family for generations.

we have world-class museums, major-league sports teams, the Cleveland clinic, world-class orchestra, museums, educational institutions, the second-largest theatrical district in the WORLD, and a rich and diverse population. yet, we have become the scapegoat of the nation and most of the media.

which brings us back to lebron. nobody outside of Cleveland gets how on earth CLEVELAND has the best basketball player on the planet. new yorkers can't imagine that he'll stay. "why would he WANT to," they say. of COURSE he will go to new York. or Miami. or Dallas. or Chicago. ANYWHERE but Cleveland.

my heart will break (ok, maybe not break, but it will be awfully sore) if he does leave. it will shatter all my notions of who he is. and -- he is the best thing that has happened to this city in YEARS. decades even. it will be like kicking an old gimpy lady in the face after she's fallen down the steps. I will be so, so sad for me and my city. we are trying so hard to pull ourselves up -- in spite of all the haters. this would be a terrible blow.

when we moved downtown, I said that I just want to see this city on top again before I die. for a while, I've felt like that could happen. if we lose bron, I don't know when -- and if -- that will happen.

I think even John stossel gets that.

you know who you are, dude. you and your two precious, PRECIOUS darlings came to the saturday morning animated shorts screening today at the CIFF. it didn't start well for you (in relation to the two-older-nearing-grandparent-age people who were seated long before you came in with your two precious, PRECIOUS darlings).

first of all, dude, DUDE! it's not DISNEY shorts -- there are many other animated films, MANY of which are not at ALL suitable for children. dude. you should have checked. the first two were especially inappropriate. then there was the CLOWN feature. karma will bite you in the ass (i'm sure) for the nightmares that are sure to be generated by that TERRIFYING short.

second, don't EVER let me catch you in a theater with a camera again. a digital camera with the FLASH turned on. just. don't. and are you CRAZY thinking that it would be cool for your precious, PRECIOUS son to use? in the theater? taking shots of his teddy bear sitting in a seat? taking shots of the SCREEN. just. don't.

it might be better if you avoided downtown cleveland altogether for a while to allow me to lighten my mood.

One would think that after, oh, say, 125 years or so, the cereal box technology would have changed. Sure, I admit the inner bag containing the Cheerios or Rice Krispies or Count Chocula has evolved so that the once easy-open, waxed paper bags are now some kind of hard-to-open, stab-like-Norman-Bates-proof, synthetic plastic composite bag; but the cereal box itself, that familiar smelling box that is somewhere between paper and cardboard, is still the same after all these years.

"Why is that?" you ask. And I don't rightly know.

Maybe the reason is the connoisseurs of cereal boxes have a hand in the after-market value of such things.

A beautiful bouquet of flowers came by delivery person. Since, as the name of this blog states, we have nothing but love for the entire world, we did not know who might be the sender.

While my better half was caring for the flowers, ensuring they would last a long time, I got my grubby hands on the envelope with the card. I read it.

I paraphrase here: We are so, so, so sorry for your loss. She will live on in your memory, but she will be missed forever. Love in this time of great sorrow -- Ralph, Geraldine, and Felix. P.S. -- I know you were in her will.

"Who are Ralph, Geraldine, and Felix?" I asked.

"Hmmmm ... don't know," she replied.

"Anyone we know die recently? Not movie stars, just someone we'd really be sad for and miss forever?" I asked.

"Two years since the dog died. So, no."

"Better call FTD because someone got a card saying, 'Had the best time celebrating the great occasion with you! It was a blast! Let's do it again! Party on!'"

Gravity. The Law of Gravity.

Pure and utter nonsense. Hoax by scientists.

I found the proof for which conspiracy theorists have been searching since Newton claimed that the apple falling on his head was due to some invisible rays of attractive force between his head and the apple.

I join those who say Newton is a fiction. Scientists have written books and translated books and recorded stuff about him that is simply hearsay.

Here's the proof. I was walking the dogs. Something shiny caught my eye:

Yes, that's right. Proof positive. An exposed nail holding down the sidewalk I was walking on -- preventing it from floating off the planet. Other nails holding down everything on Earth are obviously hidden from our view.

From time to time, actually, with increasing irregularity, this blog makes public service announcements.

This week is National Work Zone Awareness Week. Slow down in highway work zones.

For those who don't like guns, here's the link for a marshmallow-shooting bow:

http://www.amazon.com/Marshmallow-Fun-Co-Bow-Mallow/dp/B000W9KAQI

The ad for this weapon contains a warning of a choking hazard: "This toy is a small ball. Not for children under 3 yrs."

Small ball? It shoots fucking marshmallows!