CAN’T WE ALL JUST GET ALONG!?!

Attorney General Eric Holder speaks to reporters after a meeting Tuesday on Capitol Hill.

With the vote last Wednesday by the House Oversight and Government Reform Committee citing the nation’s top law enforcement officer with contempt, it signaled a new low in the partisan bickering between Democrats and Republicans that is crippling the American political system.

At issue here is when and to what extent did Attorney General Eric Holder know about Operation Fast and Furious, a botched gun-smuggling investigation run by the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives.

This controversial initiative, which began under the Bush administration in 2006, allowed weapons purchased illegally in Arizona to be walked back across the Mexican border and traced, with the intent of identifying smuggling routes and building cases against the Mexican drug cartels where these guns were trafficked.

U.S. Border Patrol Agent Brian Terry, who was shot and killed with a gun from Operation Fast and Furious.

Unfortunately the ATF lost track of more than 1,000 firearms, two of which were found on scene where a U.S. Border Patrol Agent was fatally shot on December 14, 2010.

Although Attorney General Holder has testified about this matter several times, and turned over thousands of documents, the Republican controlled House Oversight and Government Reform Committee took the extreme action of recommending a contempt ruling against a sitting attorney general that broke along strict party lines, with all 23 Republicans voting in favor and 17 Democrats opposed.

While this case is not entirely without merit, it is one that generally would be settled through quiet compromise. Instead this was looked upon as an opportunity by Republicans to taint the Obama White House with the presidential election 139 days off.

The question that comes to mind is, in an already polarized political environment, what kind of lasting damage is this sort of hyperbole having upon the electorate?

This is all considered part of “The Game” in Washington. Hit a guy when he doesn’t expect it, make something out of nothing, and hopefully you steal some headlines – whatever is necessary to move an agenda or campaign forward.

At the end of the day consultants, lobbyists and politicians mark their scorecards and go to dinner. Outside the Beltway those headlines resonate and battle lines are being drawn.

The Democrats are guilty too. They’ve employed similar tactics when advantageous, but the Republicans have led the way in creating a brand of “take-no-prisoners” policy.

Nobody is trying to protect Eric Holder – he’s a big boy and very capable. If there were a lack of candor on the attorney general’s part that vote would have been unanimous.

The president invoked his right to executive privilege, which is perfectly legal, and certain Justice Department documents containing internal deliberations about Operation Fast and Furious have been deemed off-limits.

Speaker of the House John Boehner.

Executive privilege is routinely utilized by Republican and Democratic administrations.

President George W. Bush did so six times, as recently as 2008, during a congressional investigation into the mass firings of U.S. attorneys and the possible use of the Justice Department for political aims.

In this instance White House Counsel Harriet Miers and Chief of Staff Joshua Bolten were both held in contempt of Congress, highlighted by the over-the-top theatrics by Rep. John Boehner, R-Ohio, leading a walkout of Republicans in protest.

President Obama’s claim of executive privilege should be the end of this controversy. Instead committee chair, Rep. Darrell Issa, R-Calif., is going to take his pity party to the full House chamber, where House Speaker Boehner will happily extend this pointless affair, wasting time and resources in the interest of damaging the president’s re-election bid.

Rep. Darrell Issa pressing for a contempt charge against Attorney General Holder.

I say pointless because this will accomplish nothing but fire up right-wing talk radio and stir an already spicy pot of hate between the two parties.

If no deal is reached to prevent this measure going forward, the contempt citation will be voted on by the House of Representatives, and should pass being Republicans hold a majority.

This decision would then be forwarded to the local U.S. attorney’s office in Washington, who in all likelihood will refuse to prosecute their boss for a charge lacking objectivity and one rife with partisanship that furthers an obvious Republican agenda.

*     *     *     *     *

I appreciate the maxim that “all’s fair in love, war and politics,” and understand the Republican Party has to come up with something beyond just Mitt Romney as a reason for people to vote for their party’s candidate, because the country is better off now than it was under the Republican leadership of George W. Bush – financially, intellectually and morally.

Romney alone is not a winner, but the party has to dance with their date to the prom.

As a Republican strategy this contempt allegation serves a dual purpose, of tainting the Democratic brand, and filling the airwaves with charged rhetoric, distracting undecided voters from perceived weaknesses in the GOP nominee.

Romney is running at all costs for the presidency.

Romney is a retread candidate from 2008, who couldn’t get out of the primary, and manifests obvious faults for any core-Republican, like having previously supported pro-choice abortion rights and advocated in favor of gun control measures.

After the dismal performance by all candidates in the protracted 2012 Republican nominating process, Romney emerged by screwing up the least.

In an effort to secure its core-constituency, the leadership of the Republican Party has gambled and made a conscious decision to run hard to the right, walking lock-step with Romney, and fighting the Obama administration on every initiative, regardless of merit or whether the legislative gridlock hurts the American people.

It’s a lot of smoke and mirrors in an attempt to pull off a sleight of hand victory.

President Obama makes his case for a second term.

On the other hand, after the catastrophe left behind by Bush and Cheney, President Barack Obama has managed to steer the country away from calamity’s edge and proposed concrete ideas for how America can achieve greatness once again.

My advice to responsible Republicans is to not create more smoke; we have plenty of wildfires burning out of control. If Romney is your guy and you truly believe he is more qualified to be president, jump on that horse and ride, but don’t sabotage America as a consequence.

I’m having a really hard time understanding where winning a campaign became more important than bettering America.

Roger Ailes, a true behind-the-scenes “Master of Disaster.”

The roots of this philosophy can be seen in Richard Nixon’s paranoia-driven administration, it then took a more jingoistic form under Ronald Reagan and George H. W. Bush.

It’s no coincidence that Roger Ailes, president of the conservative media outlet, Fox News Channel, happened to be the media consultant to Nixon, Reagan, and Bush, and was a driving force behind this “lie and burn” form of modern electoral politics.

Complimenting Ailes was the overtly aggressive Republican strategist Lee Atwater, who also advised Reagan and Bush, and later served as chairman of the Republican National Committee, before passing away from a brain tumor in 1991.

Matalin gets her point across.

Atwater described Ailes as having “two speeds — attack and destroy.”

Also on this militant tree is Mary Matalin, who served as Bush’s deputy political director on his 1988 re-election campaign, and under Atwater at the RNC.

Matalin later worked with Dick Cheney and Karl Rove, who together fashioned an already unscrupulous brand of politics into a “Black Ops” philosophy, that delivered the fear-drenched administration of George W. Bush.

*     *     *     *     *

America is at a tipping point, where several generational-shifting dilemmas must be faced:

Health Care? As modern medicine continues to cure diseases and extend lifetimes, how do we afford long-term care?

Immigration?

Education? The quality of education in America has slid over the past 20-years from top-notch to only average, falling behind South Korea, Finland, Singapore, Hong Kong, Shanghai and Canada.

Infrastructure? America’s infrastructure was given a grade of D by the American Society of Civil Engineers, and is ranked 17th by the World Economic Forum.

Cost and consequences of Climate Change?

Specific to this exact moment, the question is all about jobs. How do we create employment opportunities when manufacturing has been largely exported?

Matt Rhoades, the former Bush/Cheney operative, purposely stays in the shadows as Mitt Romney’s campaign manager.

Now these problems haven’t come crashing down upon our heads just yet, but huge chunks of them are falling all around.

Romney has offered little in terms of solutions thus far. He supports the same trickle-down economic ideals that sunk us into this recession under George W. Bush.

The concept of maximizing profits at any cost, then sloughing off the consequences to some sucker down the road is equivalent to running our nation’s economy like one big Ponzi scheme.

When the music stopped in the Bush Administration, the middle class was left without a chair.

President George W. Bush.

This is a risky bet, potentially irresponsible, and another example of predatory economics. This could be devastating to the middle class – who remains on life support from the last go-around with trickle down.

To get America back on a path to prosperity our intention must shift away from individual gain and focus on enabling our entire population, which will make for a stronger, more viable America going forward.

Investing in our people – that is good business.

So when “Breaking News” flashes across television screens about the contempt vote in Congress, listen to the argument being framed, the venom it stirs and think about who gains from creating that hostility.

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FATHER’S DAY 2012

Sunday marked my first Father’s Day. That is, as an actual father.

After spending 40-plus of them with my own dad I knew the drill. It’s always a rewarding day, but sitting in the driver’s seat was altogether different.

It was a cool experience to be holding my daughter and looking into her innocent eyes on Father’s Day.

There’s nothing quite like that, when they are a couple months old, and can’t do anything for themselves, but trust you to take care of them. That’s all in their eyes.

I was ambivalent about the day originally. I remain a bit shell-shocked that I even have a daughter, that she was born healthy, and that I’m a parent, but as often happens, Maia offered some expert perspective that served me well and dialed me into the day.

I’m an old guy after all. You throw me too big a curve ball and I might stroke out on you. That being said, Maia and Isabella took it easy on Daddy-O.

We went to the Langley’s house in the morning to see Maia’s family and hang by the pool, before heading to see my folks.

It was an overcast day, with some periodic rain, but nothing that precluded us from being in the water or sitting outside.

Arriving there I had one of those classic new-dad moments. I rolled in and offered my friend Dennis and Maia’s dad a “Happy Father’s Day,” and they fired the same salutation back at me, along with a “welcome to the club.”

I had to take a look around for a second, and then go, “who me?”

Indeed.

I imagine every new father feels some disbelief, especially on his first Father’s Day.

You might think that after 68-days into fatherhood I would be adjusted to the idea. Instead I wake up each day amazed and thankful that this tiny girl really is next to me.

My mom getting some quality time with Peanut.

Hard to say if having a child would have been more surreal when I was younger and still running the streets, or now when I’m in my 40s and will be trying to keep up with a new born.

I’m definitely an older dog, but not that set in my ways. I’m spontaneous if nothing else, adaptable, but this is a new routine for me, no doubt.

I learned from spending time with Maia’s older boys, Gabriel and Jacy, that being a good parent is a constant work in progress. No matter if it’s fundamental or fun, you have to engage kids, whether that is helping with homework, taking them out on their bikes, watching goofy cartoons, cooking a meal they enjoy, whatever, it takes time and intent to recognize what they’re into.

This damn sure isn’t like having a puppy.

I realized how big of a job I had on my hands a few days after Isabella was born, once the excitement died down and everyone went home.

It’s not like I could put some food out and place newspapers on the kitchen floor hoping for the best. Child protective services frowns upon such parenting.

The baby Kraken in a peaceful moment.

Sure there is some sacrifice involved, but it’s more a shift in priorities. I’m concentrating on my daughter’s needs, changing her diapers, providing bottle service, carrying her around, and trying to  translate the little sounds she makes to figure out what will put that beautiful smile back on her face.

It’s the ultimate VIP treatment.

For sure it’s work, but the perks are killer.

Isabella, or Peanut as I usually call her, or the Kraken (because she can get her cry on), oh and I’m told I refer to her simply as, “The Baby” quite often, regardless of what I call her, she is my littler girl, and I’ve got her back all the way.

I’m here to protect and serve, and am humbled to have her in my life.

Here’s to a happy first Father’s Day!

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Radiohead Invades Cincinnati on “The King of Limbs” Tour

Thom Yorke and Radiohead on stage in Cincinnati. / Photo courtesy of David Sorcher / Cincinnati Enquirer

Radiohead made its first-ever Cincinnati appearance at the Riverbend Music Center last Tuesday, touring behind their 2011 release, The King of Limbs.

I’m continuing to process the concert, and remain unsure of exactly what I saw. I know I liked it, and I’m glad I was there to experience the band’s take on reality, but like being abducted by aliens, I was immersed in an unfamiliar world, which is difficult to interpret.

I thought this verse from their song, Separator, offered an idea of how it felt:

“It’s like falling out of bed; from a long, weary dream; the sweetest flowers and fruits hang from the trees; falling off the giant bird that’s been carrying me; it’s like I’m falling out of bed from a long and weary dream.”

This was no straight ahead rock-n-roll show. Like Radiohead itself, the performance was built layer upon layer, to create a multi-dimensional, textural experience, composed of special effects, lights, videos and music.

Ed O’Brien. / Photo courtesy of David Sorcher / Cincinnati Enquirer

I hadn’t been this excited for a concert in a while. It also happened to be my girlfriend Maia’s birthday, so she and my buddy Matt and I made the 90-mile trek north.

The atmosphere in the parking lot was enthusiastic. This wasn’t a balls out tailgating affair. There was some beer pong being played, but mostly it was folks hanging out and drinking imported hops with friends.

Inside the crowd was a mixture of young and old, audiophiles, music snobs, hipsters, trippers, liberal posers and psychedelic enthusiasts.

They had a book-ish quality about them.

There also was a subset present who came to “worship” the words preached by Radiohead’s singer, Thom Yorke, which was amusing and disturbing at the same time.

Regardless, everyone was here for the music.

The hum of synthesizers signaled the moment had arrived. A cacophony of digitally looped chants emanated from the sound system, swirling about the arena, giving the band cover as they took the stage.

Daylight lingered as the houselights dimmed and Radiohead assumed control.

A massive wave of blue light cascaded from behind the band, bathing the crowd in aquamarine, as they opened with Bloom, the first cut off The King of Limbs.

The halting chord structure and dense percussion on this track created a lost-at-sea feel when paired with an underwater lighting scheme, undulating, as if we were inside an aquarium with the band.

In order to bring these newer songs to life outside a recording studio, and to breathe diffused energy into older tracks, Radiohead brought along a second drummer, Clive Deamer, from Portishead, to join their regular drummer, Phil Selway, on tour.

The new music is more ambient and less direct than 2007’s In Rainbows. It resembles the feel from Kid A and Amnesiac, where fragments of sound are looped electronically and individual noises are built upon, like an auditory collage, until the pieces form into a song.

There is a patience to this music. Words are stretched, echoed and mutated by Yorke’s ability to traverse pitch from glowering overtone to glistening falsetto in a single bound.

A message and mood are conveyed, filling in spaces partially obscured by pronunciation, then placed in motion by syncopated back beats.

It creates a soundscape, or dream sequence with a soundtrack.

Casual fans expecting to hear Karma Police and Creep probably had a challenging night, but Radiohead was in magnificent form.

The thing with this tour is you can’t make a judgment about it based upon the new disc, or the setlist. This is a more complicated endeavor. The sights, sounds, performance and atmosphere all merit consideration as they coalesce into a finished product.

The setlist included 23 songs, with nearly half of them coming from the last two discs, plus four songs (Staircase, The Daily Mail, Identikit, and These Are My Twisted Words), not previously released.

This by no means made for a disappointing night. The flow felt a little disjointed compared to the setlist on In Rainbows, but that’s because I don’t know the new material well enough.

To the band’s credit this was a quick two-hour show.

Radiohead prepped 75 songs for this tour. Around 15 are played nightly, leaving eight at-large songs to be added.

The band decided that on this tour they were going to keep themselves amused by playing what they wanted to play. After changing their sound once again, this is what Radiohead is about right now and they want to turn people onto that vibe and the aura it creates.

There’s no use fighting it – just kick back and enjoy their ride.

Cincinnati responded reasonably well. The attendance, while curious, remained standing and were supportive throughout.

Highlights included the haunting exhale that punctuates Nude; the tour debut of Subterranean Homesick Alien; the Neil Young teaser from After The Gold Rush that introduced Everything In Its Right Place; the disorientation of Morning Mr. Magpie; the driving symbolism behind The National Anthem, with an outro from Hunting Bears off Amnesiac, and my favorite cut of the evening, Reckoner.

[Radiohead – Reckoner, Cincinnati, OH, June 5, 2012]

The stage lighting and choreography were brilliant. The inevitable comparison that Radiohead is this generation’s Pink Floyd is legitimate considering both bands embrace conceptualization and experimentation, but I saw those last two Floyd tours and their lighting design was fuck-all compared to what was unveiled Tuesday.

Photo courtesy of David Sorcher / Cincinnati Enquirer

It’s very European feeling, clean and crisp, just like Radiohead’s sound.

One large bubble screen, made from recycled plastic bottles, ran the length of the stage behind the band and rose 20 feet high. This usually set a primary color for each song.

On top of that screen was another one of equal size that had narrow, vertical tubes of light, that could be set in motion, depicting streams of code like in the Matrix films, running up and down, perpendicular to the base screen below.

Eleven flat LED panels floated above the band, like mirrors, sometimes forming a lighted ceiling, other times tilting out towards the crowd so live videos of the band members could be shown on each individually.

There also was a row of six box screens posted above the front of the stage, each dedicated to an individual band member, that featured close-up shots of their faces or their instruments being played.

Nearly all the lighting was from behind or above, in a grandness that drowned the room in color – most likely by design so the audience would forget about trying to watch the band and instead concentrate on listening.

Radiohead became invisible as trance sounds washed across changing video screens, like electro-brain impulses zipping about the cerebral cortex.

The overall result was fantastic, but there was a whole other level of connectivity with this show for those who could see the effort involved by Radiohead to create this sonic landscape.

The fragmented screens only offered glimpses, meanwhile lead guitarist Jonny Greenwood and rhythm guitarist Ed O’Brien were busily playing their own instruments plus added percussion, programmable pads, keyboards, and DJing; Colin Greenwood’s bass rocked the house; the drummers stoically beat upon anything they could get their hands upon; and Yorke coaxed meaning from his voice, guitars, a piano, and his spazzed-out alien dance moves.

The band piled it on, sounding huge, happy and bleak all at the same time.

Adding to the simmering intensity at Riverbend was the attendance of the Red Hot Chili Peppers. In town to play U.S. Bank Arena the following night, bassist, Flea, who plays with Yorke in Atoms for Peace, was seated up front with drummer Chad Smith and new guitarist Josh Klinghoffer.

For those guys to come over and spend a rare night off attending a concert means something – it’s respect.

After seeing Radiohead it takes a minute for everything to absorb. It’s always interesting, even if you don’t know the material, but a few months down the road, when it all digests and I get some perspective, it gets even more impressive.

As I said at the beginning, alien abduction is a bitch to make sense of, but it makes you think, and thought provoking is a rare commodity these days in the corporate driven, “play the hits and do what sells,” world of popular music.

Radiohead’s performance eschewed immediate gratification for substance, a message needed now more than ever.

Thanks for stopping by boys – keep fighting for freedom, keep fighting the power, and please don’t stop being weird!

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R.I.P. Beastie Boy Adam Yauch (1964-2012)

Adam Nathaniel (MCA) Yauch was Born in Brooklyn, NY, Aug. 4, 1964, and died May 4, 2012.

The world lost a good man on May 4, 2012, when Adam Yauch, 47, one of the founding members of the experimental hip-hop band the Beastie Boys, died as a result of a cancerous tumor in his salivary gland.

For those who follow music or take notice of which artists are headlining the big music festivals each year, Yauch’s passing, unfortunately, should come as little surprise.

This story arc began in 2009, when Yauch received his cancer diagnosis.

The Beastie Boys had a new CD queued up for release in late 2009, entitled Hot Sauce Committee. It was a refreshing, of-the-moment recording, that harkened back to the sounds of New York City hip-hop that the Beastie Boys grew up around.

It was to be a celebration of sorts. A chance for these three guys who started rapping as a joke, to bring their polished sound and positive energy to full fruition and place it on display as a sort of homage to all who helped them reach the lofty peaks of popular music where the Beastie Boys resided.

[Beastie Boys – Make Some Noise]

The release of the CD was delayed after Yauch’s diagnosis, in an effort to allow him time to receive treatment and hopefully get healthy. It wasn’t until spring of 2011 that Hot Sauce Committee Part 2 was finally released to critical acclaim.

This appeared to be a good sign. Bold announcements were issued for a tour in support of the well-selling CD. Then in December, the Beastie Boys were selected for induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

It seemed the stars were aligning for the trio to have an amazing 2012.

The new disc made the Beastie Boys a hot prospect to headline several major summer music festivals, but rumblings of possible show postponements had already begun in early 2012. Then came the revelation that Yauch was too ill to attend the hall of fame ceremony in April.

Two of the band’s heroes, Chuck D and LL Cool J were giving the induction speech for the Beastie Boys – that is a moment that Yauch, or MCA as he was known, would not have missed unless his condition was life threatening.

[Beastie Boys kicking it live from Glasgow in 1999]

The Beastie Boys were spawned in 1981 as a punk rock outfit, with Yauch, on bass, and Mike Diamond, also known as Mike D, on vocals and later drums. In 1983, Adam Horovitz, or Ad Rock, joined the band on guitar, and by 1985 the Beastie Boys were down to their current lineup, and had shelved the punk rock in favor of rapping full-time.

The Beastie Boys and Run D.M.C.

Some in NY’s hip-hop community didn’t take them seriously, but when noted producer Rick Rubin, who was an NYU student at the time and DJ for the Beasties, turned Run D.M.C’s manager, Russell Simmons, onto the band, the boys were added to his stable of artists.

This provided them street cred. They were playing shows with Run D.M.C., LL Cool J and Whodini, and cutting singles for Def Jam, the predominant hip-hop label started by Rubin and Simmons.

Then came Licensed to Ill in 1986, the first full-length release from the Beastie Boys. Its impact was immediate, as traditionally white and black publications reviewed it positively – including Rolling Stone magazine’s snappy headline, “Three Idiots Create a Masterpiece.”

This might not have been their most enlightened period, but the rhymes were tight. This verse from The New Style is the distilled essence of what the Beasties were all about:

Cooling on the corner on a hot summer’s day, just me and my posse and MCA, a lot of beer, a lot of girls, and a-lot-of cursing, .22 automatic on my person.”

All of a sudden rap was blaring out of white FM radio. Licensed to Ill was Def Jam’s fastest selling debut record and became the first rap album to hit No. 1 on the Billboard charts, but equally impressive was it reaching No. 2 on the urban charts.

Licensed to Ill eventually sold over nine million copies and was the biggest selling rap album of the 1980s.

[Beastie Boys – (You Gotta) Fight For Your Right (To Party!)]

The sample-heavy Paul’s Boutique followed in 1989, going double platinum. This landmark recording remains a blueprint for experimental hip-hop. Rolling Stone ranked it number 156 on the magazine’s list of the 500 greatest albums of all time.

The band’s innovative spirit continued with their 1992 release, Check Your Head, when the Beastie Boys took up playing their own instruments, something unique in the turntable, beatbox driven world of rap.

The Beastie Boys: Adam (MCA) Yauch, Mike (Mike D) Diamond and Adam (Ad Rock) Horovitz.

Hip-hop is a harsh environment. The shelf life for artists is similar to that of pro-athletes, intense and short. The streets are littered with underground singles and one-disc wonders, but the Beastie Boys have remained relevant for over 30 years.

Yauch was a major factor in the band’s durability. He helped them to evolve past their homophobic frat-boy raps, and become socially conscious sonic explorers.

One verse that exemplifies Yauch’s shift in perspective away from the band’s early sexism can be heard on the Beastie Boys’ 1994 hit, Sure Shot:

I want to say a little something that’s long overdue, the disrespect to women has got to be through. To all the mothers and sisters and wives and friends, I want to offer my love and respect to the end.”

Yauch also recognized the need to diversify his interests in order to grow as an artist, and in turn grow the Beastie Boys’ brand. This led to the band creating the Grand Royal magazine and recording label. Additionally, Yauch had been dabbling in film, directing some of the Beastie Boys’ videos under the pseudonym Nathanial Hörnblowér, so he founded Oscilliscope Laboratories, an independent film production company.

As a practicing Tibetan Buddhist, Yauch had a deep appreciation for the Tibetan independence movement. In 1994, he started the non-profit advocacy group Milarepa Fund, to raise awareness of China’s control over Tibet.

In 1996, Milarepa organized the first in an international series of Tibetan Freedom Concerts, held in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park, which attracted 100,000 fans and raised $800,000 for Tibetan exile organizations.

Tibetan Freedom Concert, Washington, DC, 1998

I attended the Tibetan Freedom Concert at R.F.K. Stadium in Washington, DC, on June 13/14, 1998. During Herbie Hancock’s Saturday afternoon set, a freak lightning storm rolled through, dropping bolts inside the stadium. Twelve people were injured, four critically, in particular a woman who had been holding on to a metal railing and had electricity conducted through the underwire of her bra, leaving her chest severely burned.

This was tragic obviously, but with Yauch at the helm there was never any sense of desperation. The energy remained positive for this event. He and the other Beastie Boys worked behind the scenes to get as many acts as possible onto the Sunday ticket.

Reports indicated the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Beck and Kraftwerk couldn’t be rescheduled, but Radiohead, touring behind OK Computer, R.E.M. and Sonic Youth would be squeezed in the following day. Already on tap Sunday were sets from the Beastie Boys on their Hello Nasty tour, and Pearl Jam.

Radiohead was mind blowing. As Fake Plastic Trees was cooking up the whole stadium simultaneously shut up and turned to watch the band play in unison. Our attention was rewarded with an unscheduled performance of Creep, the band’s alt-rock anthem, which lead to a violent sing along.

[Radiohead – Tibetan Freedom Concert, Washington, DC]

After the Beastie Boys delivered a funky set a bunch of people left.

[Beastie Boys – Sabotage at Tibetan Freedom Concert, Washington, DC]

Pearl Jam whipped folks back into a frenzy, but finished early and didn’t return for an encore – which should have been the end of the concert, but all the band’s equipment remained.

Another bunch of folks departed, then out came the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

That was a hot finish!

Hats off to the organizers and especially to Pearl Jam, who gave up some of their set time and loaned the Chili Peppers their equipment.

The event drew 120,000 people and raised $1.2 million.

Mike D., MCA and Ad Rock.

What is the legacy of the Beastie Boys and Adam Yauch?

They brought hip-hop to suburban white America. Previously it was the domain of urban black kids, and that was too scary for the mall rats. As rude or off-color as the Beastie Boys may have been on Licensed to Ill, their mix of cutting humor, with urban hip-hop culture, punk beats and samples from classic rock acts like Led Zeppelin and the Clash, worked.

It crossed over.

To date, the Beastie Boys have sold over 40 million records.

[Here is a Coldplay tribute to Adam Yauch and the Beastie Boys]

The world is worse off with Adam Yauch gone. As large a platform as musicians, movie actors and sports stars are given in the United States, MCA was an influential artist achieving positive change through his actions, work and art.

My kindest thoughts go out to all the folks associated with the Beastie Boys, and to their families.

After writing this, I look back at Adam Yauch and see he lived a good life. He earned the chance as an artist to make a difference. A rapper and songwriter, yes, but also film director, producer, human rights activist and Buddhist. He evolved as a human being, and was a devoted husband and father. That is a life well lived.

Indeed MCA, you rocked the Sure Shot!

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Llama Daze Are Here Again

The Urban Llama rubbing elbows with some country llamas.

Being the Urban Llama, and a general llama enthusiast, I’m always on the lookout for the chance to do a meet and greet with some real llamas. I had just such an opportunity last Saturday at Scott County Park in Georgetown, KY, for the 12th annual Llama & Alpaca Daze gathering.

Georgetown is only 20 miles up the way from Frankfort, so not too far a venture. We took the boys and baby along for the ride. Like most of these little side adventures, Gabe and Jacy just get in the car, not really grasping what we’re heading to do, but somewhat trusting they will be amused.

One dignified, but hot llama.

We were greeted by a six-foot, black and white llama upon arriving. It was a hot day, and her body had been shaved, but her haunches and neck remained thick with fur. Her handlers brought her outside for a refreshing spray-down with the hose, in hopes of cooling the beast down a tad.

The other llamas, of which there were around 20, were housed in a covered stable area, so there was shade, and the individual farmers had holding pens so their llamas could hang out together.

It was a pretty peaceful scene. Considering the country feel, I found it amusing Frank Sinatra was playing on the stereo inside the stables – very civilized for llamas.

There were drinks, pizza, hot dogs and shaved ice available for purchase.

Good llama, nice llama.

I saw more money being pumped into the .25 cent gumball machine that dispensed feed for the llamas than was being spent on people food. I was pumping quarters into it as well. Having the llamas eat out of my hand felt funny. It tickled. They’d dig their noses into my palm in an effort to grub out the last bits of seed.

They’re such odd creatures. It’s like they were assembled with discarded parts from forgotten animals. They’re like a mini-furry giraffe from a Dr. Seuss book gone wrong – part camel, part mule, with a certain “je ne sais quoi.”

Max-chilling in the llama pen, as they take in the breeze from the fan.

Sometimes they look majestic, with their dense, rich fur. Other times like a more intelligent poodle, that’s had an unfortunate run-in with a mad barber.

You know, if you’re going to shave most of a critter, why leave some bushy – it’s not like they’re not hot in that area as well.

Regardless, there’s something about llamas that makes me laugh.

Maia, Isabella and Jacy feeding a gregarious baby llama.

Jacy, 7, Maia’s youngest son, was in a foul mood by the time we arrived because someone talked over him in the car, but once he had a llama’s nose rooting around in his palm he was all smiles.

It didn’t hurt having several baby llamas about either. How can you be in a bad mood with a little furry brown llama staring at you with those big eyes?

He looked like a furry duck.

And the momma llamas tend to make this humming noise when around their babies, so I would catch that crazy tune out of the corner of my ear occasionally while walking past the stalls.

Hilarious!

Gabriel makes a new acquaintance.

The handlers also did a great job of pairing llamas with kids, so they could take the animals for walks. Put a llama on a leash and away you go for a stroll around the stables. Gabe and Jacy both walked llamas, like proud parents, having a chat with them and taking them to see the sights.

There were also demonstrations to observe techniques on shearing, spinning and weaving.

I felt bad for the vendors. There were a couple of people selling hand-crafted fleeces and stocking caps woven from llama and alpaca fur. They appeared to be of a fine quality, but it was 94 degrees. I didn’t want to even look at a winter hat, much less pick up a wool product.

The llama says, “What up my bitches!”

The event was sponsored by the Kentucky Llama Alpaca Association. I had no idea these folks existed until I arrived, but there you go. I have since learned that the Kentucky chapter is the proud host of the 2012 North American Llama & Alpaca Show, coming November 2-4, 2012. This will be the show’s 21st anniversary, and is part of the North American Livestock Exposition, which is the world’s largest purebred livestock show.

Who knew?

The event will be held at the Kentucky Fair and Exposition Center in Louisville, KY.

Man, that event has to smell funky.

Peanut meets The Llama. Good thing Jacy is there to mediate.

Still, the Urban Llama may have to check out this grand gathering of the purest llamas. I have to stay in touch with my constituency. I wouldn’t want them thinking I’m putting on airs or anything.

If nothing else I bet those alpaca wool hats will look a might more appealing come November than they did this past Memorial Day weekend.

One random travel note, we stopped at a tasty shaved ice stand, that had a tropical theme, I want to say it was called Hawaiian Shaved Ice. If coming from Frankfort, you would go east on 460/Old Georgetown Road, and take a left at the downtown intersection where 460 meets N. Broadway Street/25. It’s down on the right just before reaching Scott County Park. It is cash only, they have lots-o-flavors and is perfect after a hot afternoon of greeting llamas.

In closing I leave you with a quote befitting of our Llama Daze outing:

“Today was good. Today was fun. Tomorrow is another one.” ~ Dr. Seuss

Happy Llama Daze!

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Isabella Naomi “Peanut” Langley-Wilson

A bewildered daddy holding his one-day old daughter.

Damn-hell, I have a baby!

I’m a father too…

That is an interesting jacket to slip on. It feels a wee bit snug, but I’m taking to its cut.

Isabella Naomi Langley-Wilson was born on April 10, 2012, at 8:25 a.m. – a healthy 8.04 pounds and 20 1/2 inches tall.

Mom and baby are doing fine.

I’m good as well, just taking it all in and trying to make sense of this tiny girl.

Those first few days are quite the ride. It’s one big blur of stress, anxiety, prayer, elation, relief and fatigue.

This all got rolling on April 9th, when Maia started getting regular contractions. The doctor advised we sleep closer to Louisville than Frankfort, in case she went into labor.

We weren’t going to be getting much sleep that night regardless, with our delivery appointment scheduled at Baptist East for 5:30 a.m. the next morning.

We dropped Maia’s boys, Gabriel and Jacy, off at my folk’s house Monday evening, then finished packing before heading to Middletown around 11:00 p.m. to stay at Maia’s sister’s house.

The alarm went off at 4:30 a.m.

I consciously paused before getting out of bed.

Isabella appears to be concentrating hard on relaxation.

This was going to be a DAY. Before it was over I would have a daughter, be a daddy, and Maia and I would be parents together.

I knew down to the half-hour when the baby would arrive, so once I got up I was on a non-stop, auto-pilot conveyor belt straight through this ride of major life changes – none of which I really ever thought I would be doing.

I was ready for it, just needed that moment to compose myself and detail everything that was going to go down that day. I wanted to be sure I took time to pause and drink in certain moments, because they would be snapshots to last a lifetime.

Then I hopped up to get moving so I could meet my daughter.

We chatted briefly with Gil, and her husband Dennis, who was leaving for Phoenix and San Francisco that morning on business.

Many thanks to them both for loaning out their bed to us!

Now the blur begins.

Peanut wrap.

Entering the delivery area of the hospital for me was akin to hopping on a roller coaster. I took a seat, and felt this bar go down across my arms to make sure I didn’t fall out and then the car begins to slowly climb that first big hill. As the ground gets further away I wondered if this was such a good idea, but there is no stopping the inevitable plunge…

And like a roller coaster, the exhilaration of becoming a father far out-weighed the trepidation.

I got this strange sensation when we checked in. I caught glimpses through doorway windows of baby delivery areas; faint cries of newborns could be heard; I remember thinking how cool it was that this is the spot where tiny new humans are brought into the world.

The prep room was like the green room behind the stage at a performance. Maia switched into her costume, a hospital gown, then all these stage hands, or nurses and anesthesiologists in this instance, came to stick her with needles or affix sensors to her body.

We spent two hours in there cracking bad jokes and nervously talking.

Then a gurney arrived a little before 8:00 a.m., and it was time to take this show on the road.

Peanut is living large in her fleecy blanket.

I wasn’t allowed inside the operating room until after they negotiated the spinal block.

Talk about feeling like you’re in the on-deck circle waiting to bat.

The baby is coming, the baby is coming, just not quite yet.

Wait for it, patience…

Such a tiny baby paw.

Let me tell you, those are some long minutes out there pacing back and forth, exchanging pleasantries through masks with the medical staff before I could be by Maia’s side again.

Meanwhile I looked like the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, with my zip-front white surgical scrubs, shoe mittens, sterile hair-beret and mask.

I rocked that look best I could.

I got the “all-clear” wave from the nurse and into the O.R. I went, under the bright lights.

This was a popular place.

She has baby spider monkey toes.

There were two anesthesiologists, our primary doctor, her assistant, two primary nurses, another nurse who was making runs outside the operating room, a post-birth doctor, a nurse-specialist, and two students.

It was a baker’s dozen including the two of us on this stage.

I surveyed the room and Maia was lying there calmly amongst all this commotion, with a curtain midway down her torso, separating her head from the doctors doing their work.

She shot me that easy, reassuring smile I love so much, then I noticed the clear bassinet under a light on the right side of the room. That auto-pilot conveyor belt that began when I hopped up out of bed this morning had delivered me to the precipice of being a parent.

The only thing close to this moment must be death.

I don’t mean that in a dark way, only that the contrast between life transitioning to death is as stark a difference as the one I felt sitting there with Maia, when it was just the two of us one moment, and then suddenly this new life joined us.

I must say I found there was a surprising amount of pulling and tugging involved in a C-section. I looked behind the curtain to see what the doctors were up to and that’s no joke. It was incredible she was able to remain awake through such a procedure, much less carry on a casual conversation.

After a few minutes Maia remarked how she wanted to hear the baby’s cry. That really got me praying. Any number of dark thoughts fleeted through my mind, but I pushed them aside for the positive, and asked for my baby’s deliverance and the safety of her mom.

As my buddy Matt told me, that moment right before your child is born is one of those situations where there are no atheists in foxholes. He was absolutely correct.

Isabella Naomi has entered the building.

Then we heard her beautiful cry and Isabella had arrived.

The doctor sat her down and I quickly counted fingers and toes.

She was healthy and normal.

A few minutes later I was holding my baby, so mom could see her face and touch that soft skin.

This was an excellent distraction from the mild complications Maia encountered, and took our minds off the doctors finishing up their work.

The staff and doctors at Baptist East were amazing! I can’t say enough about them all. They kept everything calm and let us know exactly what was going on, what was next and how mom and baby were doing each step of the way. They were really sweet throughout our entire stay.

Momma with her new baby girl.

We were in the recovery room for a couple of hours. Maia was hopped up on a variety of drugs. With Baptist East’s policy of Kangaroo Care and skin-on-skin, we had the baby there with us the whole time, in order for mom, dad and baby to make that connection.

I now turned to my cell phone duties. Maia put together group listings to get messages and pictures out to her people, then I had my phone as well.

The nurses took the baby around 10:30 a.m. to get her cleaned up. Isabella’s temperature was a little low, so she needed warming before she could be bathed, and there was a slight wheezing in her breathing.

This all meant she required several extra hours in the nursery before she completely stabilized and could be brought down to us.

A peaceful newborn.

The new nursery at Baptist East wasn’t open yet, so a temporary one was set up on the fifth floor. Maia’s room was down on two, so I spent the next four hours running back and forth, checking on Maia, and escorting family members through the maze of hospital floors to see the baby.

The ladies in the nursery were super kind at indulging my numerous requests to bring family in to see Isabella.

She was brought down to us at 3:00 p.m., all swaddled up.

She was a gorgeous work of art, with her little nose, head full of hair, tiny hands and spider monkey toes.

Maia was totally out of it the first day from the spinal block drugs, and what they gave her for the side effects. This resulted in some hilarious conversations where she would meld dreams with reality, making absolutely no sense – starting conversations in mid-sentence.

That was quality entertainment.

Jacy and Gabriel meet their new sister.

We stayed in the hospital until Friday afternoon, then packed up our baby girl for the trip home to Frankfort.

Heading home from the hospital.

I had been thinking about this particular moment for some time. Wondering what it would feel like to walk out of the hospital with an infant – knowing there’s no manual that comes with this little person, nor do they require me to pass a test in order to be a parent.

Hell I have to pass a test just to get a driver’s license, you would think there would be some sort of necessary qualification to raise a human being.

Perhaps it’s my age, and that so many of my friends have had kids and managed not to kill any of them, but I felt confident leaving the hospital. Part too was I know Maia is an amazing mom, and that Isabella has loving brothers, grandparents and relatives waiting to welcome her.

The strange thing was this innate protection instinct that kicked in. I’ve only known this critter a few days, but would step in front of bullets to protect her.

Isabella arrives at home.

It has now been a couple weeks and we’re doing great. I’ve been told by all my friends how short a period of time it is that babies are this small, so Maia and I are maximizing this first month to bond with Isabella.

Gabriel and Jacy have taken to her immediately and been really great about handling this new addition to the family and the transitional sacrifices involved.

It’s a work in progress for us all. The broken sleep thing ain’t great, but it could be far worse. She’s a stoic child, easy-going, and has a special energy about her.

We take some walks, but mostly we’ve been hanging around the house due to the cool, wet weather. I’m cooking a lot, and that’s pleasant. I must admit having Roku, or on-demand viewing, has been a blessing. The Avengers and X-Men cartoons have been in heavy rotation, along with marathon viewings of Breaking Bad, The Walking Dead and most prominently, The Sons of Anarchy.

We’re taking life as it comes; pediatric appointments, nursing, burping, diapers and finding where the binkie went.

It’s just nice to walk in a room and see Isabella’s deep blue eyes.

Taking some time to nap with her daddy.

We are blessed by her presence.

Thanks again to our families and all our friends for the help and well wishes – it means a lot.

Posted in Events, Family | 5 Comments

Baby Llama and Gumbo Ya-Ya in Louisville

Sitting in the chairs of honor at our baby shower.

A few weeks back there was a party planned of special significance on a Sunday in Louisville. The clans had gathered for a baby shower, which is not my usual speed, but what put the real twist on this shindig was my girlfriend Maia and I were the guests of honor.

Yes, a baby Llama is on the way!

I know what you’re thinking: Pedro + babies does not compute.

Trust me, I concur, this is a frightening concept. A few months ago, the only thing I was looking after was my dead cat’s ashes.

I have a healthy sense of mortality, and I am one scared soon-to-be-daddy, but it’s all good.

I’m not saying it’s not a shock, but a positive one.

We held off telling anyone for a while due to Maia’s age, until she was further along, and we knew it was a viable pregnancy. That was a stressful time for us.

The odds are considerably higher for chromosome disorders and other birth abnormalities in pregnancies by woman over 40, so we wanted to pursue early warning genetic screening to ensure everything was proceeding normally, and to give us some comfort as we moved forward with this life changing event.

A festive table awaited the cake cutting.

My hat is off to Maia. She has done amazingly well handling this unexpected surprise and coping with the changes it has brought.

As my friend Matt is fond of saying, we’d have run out of people long ago if it were up to men to bear children – guys aren’t tough enough to put up with being pregnant.

Thus far mom and baby Peanut are healthy and normal.

Maia’s boys, Gabriel, 9, and Jacy, 7, are psyched about having a baby sister. They’re thought is a sister is like a kitten but even better. We’ll see how they react to the whole diaper thing.

I remain stunned and amazed. I’m excited by the prospects, scared of what I might do wrong, but coping.

Nicole and Maia share a laugh about impending motherhood.

Maia’s done this twice before, and is a gifted mother. She believes I’ll be a fine dad. Supposedly instincts take over. Those instincts certainly haven’t kept many of my house plants alive, but I’m listening and praying.

So why not put my fears on full display at a baby shower.

Maia’s big sister, Gillian, and her husband, Dennis, were kind enough to host the event. Thankfully this was more house party than straight baby shower.

Still, I imagine some came with the possible expectation that I might have an episode in the middle of it all, or at the very least get to see me holding up tiny dresses while sipping cocktails.

It makes for good theater regardless.

In honor of this lovely and absolutely “unique” occasion I cooked up a huge pot of duck, andouille and chicken gumbo. It was Mardi Gras season and I wanted to lend the event a little New Orleans flavor.

A lot of love goes into making gumbo – it seemed like a fitting dish to share with this gathering of friends and family.

The weekend before the shower, I had to be in Lexington to shop at Once Upon A Child, a baby consignment store, which happened to be in the same shopping center as Critchfield’s. This was an added bonus because they had ducks and andouille sausage, neither of which is easy to find, in addition to a great price on fryer chickens, so I grabbed two.

Roasted chicks.

The shower was the following Sunday, so I started the gumbo process Friday after work by baking both the chickens.

That next morning I popped on some cooking music, Fallout from the Phil Zone by the Grateful Dead, ground some Tanzanian coffee beans and brewed a pot, then pulled the chickens out of the fridge. I rendered all the meat from the birds, chopped it up and set it to the side.

Now I’m ready to make the stock. In gumbo particularly, making fresh stock is key. It’s more time consuming than difficult. I like to allow a day in between making stock and putting it to use, so it can cook down, cool and steep. The flavor in comparison to pre-packaged stock isn’t close, and if you make extra it can be frozen for later use.

Here is my basic recipe. I throw other stuff in depending on what I have in my fridge:

Stock ingredients all chopped up.

2 pounds chicken bones; 6 quarts water; 1 cup peeled, chopped carrot; 1/2 cup chopped onion; 1/2 cup chopped celery, with leaves; 1/2 cup chopped fresh parsley; pinch of fresh thyme; 1 bay leaf; salt and ground white pepper.

Place the chicken bones into a 400 degree oven to be browned for 20 minutes; bring the pot to a boil, add the bones and reduce heat to medium, then simmer for an hour or until the liquid is reduced by half; remove from the heat and let cool, then refrigerate for 5 hours or overnight, this makes it easy to skim any excess fat from the surface, then strain the liquid and discard the remains.

I cooked up the duck and andouille sausage as the stock simmered, and hacked it up. The skin on the duck was amazingly thick. I had to use kitchen shears to remove it.

This little duck was so tasty.

While duck may be oily, it’s also moist, rich and densely flavored. I made appetizers for Maia and the boys by taking some of the duck meat and placing it on lightly baked French bread, topped with debris gravy. What a decadent appetizer.

That was it for Saturday. I was up early Sunday to get the gumbo assembled. I chose Jimi Hendrix, Live at Fillmore East, as my cooking tunes for the day.

First thing to do was chop up the trinity of onion, celery and green pepper, three cups each. I find fresh garlic to be equally indispensable.

Now as the Louisiana saying goes when making gumbo, “first you make a roux.” This is a thickening agent, and provides aesthetic color to the dish. It seems simple enough, equal parts vegetable oil to flour, but without constant attention it can burn quickly.

The trinity of celery, onion and green pepper.

I was making a batch and a half of gumbo, so I did 1 1/2 cups each of oil to flour. Get a cast iron skillet preferably and some hazmat sleeves for your arms. This gets very hot and pops and spits occasionally.

Heat the oil till it’s nearly smoking, then sift in the flour, stirring constantly. I wanted a dark roux for gumbo, chocolate brown, so once all the flour was added I needed to cook it on medium low heat for around 15 minutes or till I get the desired color.

Stir and keep stirring so it doesn’t settle on the bottom and burn.

Once the roux was ready I set it aside. Remember it will keep cooking in the cast iron for a bit after being removed from the heat, so account for that.

I placed 12 cups of stock into a 8 1/2 quart stock pot to warm, sautéed the trinity before adding to the stock, measured out salt, black pepper, white pepper, cayenne pepper, thyme, basil, homemade Cajun seasoning, parsley, Frank’s hot sauce and pitched all that into the pot with a couple bay leaves.

The chicken, duck and andouille sausage were next, followed by the okra, which helps thicken.

We're cooking now!

I got this boiling and hit it with 2 cups of sherry, which partially evaporated into the steam and put off a wonderful aroma.

I brought the gumbo down to a simmer and began spooning in the roux. With such a high flour content I added this a tablespoon at a time to judge the impact on the flavor, color and density. I used a little over a cup total, due to my overindulgence on the meats.

Here is my basic gumbo recipe. I then riff off of this to make it my own:

1 (5-pound) chicken; 2 teaspoons Creole seasoning; 2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour; 1 cup vegetable oil; 2 cups chopped onion; 1 1/2 cups chopped celery; 2 cups chopped green bell pepper; 6 cups chicken stock; 1 1/2 teaspoons minced garlic; 1 pound andouille sausage chopped; salt and pepper; 4 cups cooked white rice.

Once this cooled sufficiently I packaged it up and loaded the precious cargo in my ride. I brought along a gumbo triage kit, in case flavor-correction was necessary, and some parsley and green onions to use as garnish.

Nothing like cooking for 50 people to give you the shakes.

I was psyched to see some old friends, like Matt, Dennis, Nicole and Eric – people I’ve known for 30-plus years. My family and Maia’s; just odd that it was our baby shower that brought us all together.

Matt, The Llama (father-to-be), and Nicole share a generous laugh, most likely at my expense.

Considering my usual lifestyle, which was predicated on me having the freedom to do most whatever I pleased, the news of Maia and I having a baby was a tad startling to many, including me.

I haven’t lived around my friends and family in Kentucky for 25-years, so they usually only see me in a manic state, when I’ve come in for a week at Thanksgiving or Christmas, and I’m running around with my hair on fire trying to squeeze in visits with everyone.

That creates an interesting perception of me I’m sure, and over time forms an even crazier mosaic about what my life must be like all the time.

Factor in on top of that, since 2007, I’ve done little else but cover and write about music, music festivals, travel, food, restaurants, reality television, and club life. I’ve lived a vampire existence, and only recently come out of the dark to be amongst the day-walkers.

Maia offers aid and comfort.

This is a good thing, and Maia helped me see that light, for which I am eternally grateful.

What this means is, I’m taking my enthusiasm and discipline and focusing it in a new directions. Having a baby wasn’t something I thought was going to happen for me, but now that it is, I’m looking forward to embracing this new adventure and making it my own.

Maia looks on in my bewilderment.

I see the humor in all this as well. I’d be thinking the same thing if I was looking in on my circumstances. But Maia and I were blessed with this opportunity and I have every intention of making this little girl’s life a loving success.

One way to show that and kick things off officially was to have a baby shower. The friends and family who helped arrange this are the people we’re closest with and definitely who I’d choose to have around us to share in such a moment – plus they’re all veterans of parenthood. I’ll take all the advice I can get.

Thankfully we weren’t going to be playing any goofy games or dishing out joke gifts. It was a festive atmosphere. Beer, wine and bourbon were all about.

I got the gumbo back up to heat and cooked the rice. Gil and Dennis had fixings for Italian sandwiches, along with salad and sides. It was a great spread.

I have no idea what that is in that bag.

I ended up chatting so much I never did get a serving of gumbo. I was slightly worried it might have been too spicy, but the rice helped defuse the heat. The pan was licked clean, so I must have done something right.

Now if we could have kept on socializing it would have been swell, but with the food out of the way, it was time to open gifts.

The music went down and Maia ascended to the pink throne – offered to the “mother of honor.” I gladly took the smaller chair to her left.

That was one hot seat.

Little dresses, onesies with giraffe heads, lotions and shampoos, a baby recliner, towels, footed pajamas, a diaper genie, a crib – it’s all one big blur.

I wanted to be enthusiastic, but no doubt it was odd sitting up there opening baby stuff for “my baby.”

Pause for a sip of Old Grand Dad.

I can see my friends whispering lord knows what and laughing, cameras and cell phones snapping away.

This went on for some time, but with the assistance of Old Grand Dad 114 I made it through.

It was great in all seriousness.

I was proud and felt blessed to be up there beside Maia, supporting her in what has been a sometimes daunting endeavor.

Peanut's ducky robe is looking sharp on me.

Much thanks to Dennis, Gil and the girls for opening their house up “again” to host the event – and to everyone in attendance who gave up part of their Sunday to join Maia and I in celebrating Peanut.

I get this is a lot to take in at once, it is for us too, and it certainly has been for our families. After both mine and Maia’s looked at us slightly askance, and let out a nervous laugh, they’ve been nothing but loving and supportive, which I can’t thank them for enough.

Maia and I have always had love for one another. It took some twists and turns for us to find each other again, but we’re both stronger for having gone through it together.

I have mad-respect for the grand responsibility she has of parenting her two boys, and the one we shall share with Isabella Naomi.

It's on now...!

Gabe and Jacy are both nurturing souls, and have been practicing to care for their baby sister.

Jacy has been puffing out his chest in anticipation of stepping into a “big” brother role. We can’t wait to see these two in action.

Thanks again to all our friends and family. Your care and generosity is most appreciated. Being I’m 45 and trying fatherhood for the first time – anything that makes the first few months go smoother is a welcomed asset.

I’m not sure what the over/under might be on finding happiness ever after, but do yourself a favor in the betting pool, take the over. Maia, Jacy, Gabriel and I are good, and we can’t wait for Isabella’s arrival tomorrow.

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Kentucky Wildcats Claw Past Kansas to Win NCAA Championship

The 2011-2012 NCAA basketball championship belongs to the University of Kentucky Wildcats. Photo by Monty Schoolfield

The Cats did it!

After being ranked number one in the country for 20 of 29 weeks this season, Kentucky put the finishing touches on their dream season before 70,913 at the Superdome in New Orleans, and once again sit atop college basketball.

Kansas stayed in this game and made another of its patented come from behind runs, cutting a lead that had been 18 to five with 1:37 left to go.

Flashes of 2008 began dancing in my head, when Calipari’s Memphis team led Kansas by nine with two minutes to go, then blew the lead and lost in overtime.

It wasn’t going down like that tonight – Kentucky had too much talent. Kansas had the ball with a chance to make it a one possession game and Kentucky blocked a shot, forced a walking call and then a turnover.

The Kitty Cats hit their free throws, and that was the ballgame.

Kentucky 67, Kansas 59.

Enough can’t be said about the maturity displayed by these players. There are probably seven NBA ballers on this roster, any of which could have allowed their egos or attitudes to get the best of them, and put themselves before the team, but that didn’t happen.

These Cats played the entire season with a poise and dignity not seen on the college landscape often.

Coach Calipari and his Kentucky players ascend the podium to accept their national championship trophy. Photo by Monty Schoolfield

“This is not about me, this is about these 13 players,” Kentucky coach John Calipari said. “This is about the Big Blue Nation. But I don’t know of any team that has sacrificed for each other like this team and they deserve this moment, they really do.”

Kentucky surged to an 18 point first half lead and Kansas coach, Bill Self was seen visibly shaking his head at courtside.

“They’re good,” Self said. “The kids tried really hard. I’m so proud of them. They represented their school and themselves in such a first-class manner, but tonight they were obviously the better team.”

What could he do?

Michael Kidd-Gilchrist was a beast. After getting knocked to the court on two hard fouls, Kidd-Gilchrist dusted himself off and savaged the Jayhawks with his strength and tenacity.

Freshman Anthony Davis, the NCAA player of the year, was held in check by seven footer Jeff Withey, not scoring a point in the first half, and still Kentucky extended its lead.

Meanwhile guard Doron Lamb dropped 22 points on Kansas, Marquis Teague added 14, Terrence Jones nine and Darius Miller five.

Davis took his lunchbox and went to work in other ways, ending up with a box score that read: 6 points; 16 rebounds; 5 assists; and 6 blocked shots.

That is a mad stat line for a 6’10” freshman.

It earned Davis most outstanding player honors for the tournament.

This young man was barely over 6 feet tall two years ago, before hitting an 8″ growth spurt – and continues to grow. Since he played guard, Davis has an uncanny ability to handle the ball for a player of his size.

But to recognize he wasn’t going to be able to score the ball effectively and then go about doing everything else possible to help his team win is a credit to this young man’s self-awareness.

“It’s not hard to take a backseat, especially when playing with a great group of guys,” Davis said. “I knew I was struggling, so I told them, ‘I’m going to defend and rebound, y’all make the points.’ That’s what they did tonight.”

The party ensues in New Orleans as Kentucky celebrates its victory. Photo by Monty Schoolfield

This also was a night of vindication for Kentucky coach John Calipari. Vindication and validation. His system of utilizing one-and-done players has received criticism from college basketball purists – because it relies on brining in high-level talent that is only staying one or two seasons, must be mature enough to win with inexperience, then start again from scratch the following year.

A system predicated on such youthful talent remains dicey. There is not always going to be a Kidd-Gilchrist who is willing to get up at 6:30 a.m. and demand the other players join him for extra weight lifting sessions and shoot-arounds.

And Davis is a once in a generation-type player.

This kind of talent will get you into the conversation for a national title every year, but one selfish or lazy player could be the difference between playing for a title or like Calipari’s 2009 team, losing in the Elite Eight to a less talented, more experienced squad like West Virginia.

It worked this year.

In reality this game wasn’t even close. Kentucky was up by double digits the majority of the first half and pulling away. Calipari admitted he jerked the reins back on his young thoroughbreds in the second half, even though they were chomping at the bit to be turned loose – and Kansas knew it.

How good were these Cats. They won four tournament games by 12 or more, and the last two by eight.

Nobody could even give Kentucky a ballgame.

In 1996, Maker’s Mark commemorated Kentucky’s sixth national championship by doing a limited run of white-dipped wax bottles with blue denim-screened labels, to show its thanks to coach Rick Pitino and his team of “Untouchables.”

I hope Big Blue Nation will let itself enjoy this title. Calipari was already talking about getting out on the recruiting trail this week, which is great. That is his job. He gets paid to do it. Everyone else should sit back and enjoy what this young team achieved.

That’s something I noticed around this area in the 1996-1998 title runs, people couldn’t just accept the victory.

There is significant pressure on Kentucky to win a national championship every season, and when they finally do fans aren’t always sure how to take it. Of course they’re happy, but there’s this belief that somehow a light is going to shine down on the Kentucky faithful and improve their lives.

That’s what happens when fans attach their self-worth to a team’s achievement.

Those 13 Kentucky players, Coach Calipari and the people actually associated with the Wildcat program – this is their achievement.

Calipari did a masterful job of taking the expectation of excellence and downplaying it, like there was no pressure on him to win this thing and that the tournament and the Final Four were no big deal.

The fatigue in Calipari’s face was evident after the game. He has been like a force-field around his players, absorbing all the scrutiny and anticipation, eating it up and deflecting it away from his youthful charges.

Even in victory he refused to accept much adulation. It wasn’t about him, it was about the team and what they achieved through their hard work, which is exactly what potential recruits love to here.

Tastes so sweet after 16-years.

I imagine he is genuinely happy for finally winning it all, but is just as happy to have it checked off the list of reporters’ questions to always ask of him.

Calipari’s resume is now complete after Monday’s victory. It launders his dirty image, and wipes away the vacated Final Fours at UMass and Memphis.

He has a championship slate to operate from now. I hope he chooses the brand of success found in Lexington, and goes back to doing what he says is his real job – coaching basketball, because the NBA will come calling.

My advice is to not start fretting over early departures and how next season’s recruits stack up. Celebrate this victory. They don’t come around often – 8 championships in 73 years – because it starts over again in seven months.

On a personal level, I’m so pleased I was finally able to open my commemorative bottle of Maker’s Mark. This bottle initially came into my possession while living in Washington, DC, and has since lived with me in Iowa, and New Orleans twice, before coming back home to Kentucky.

This eighth championship, won by eight points, was 14 years in the making, and this drink of whiskey was 16 years coming.

Way to go Wildcats!

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The Kentucky Wildcats play for the NCAA championship Monday in New Orleans

It is Championship Day in the Bluegrass. That doesn’t mean the Kentucky Wildcats have this sewed up, but it sure is nice seeing them back in the title game.

Kentucky endured a spirited attack from their in-state rival Louisville on Saturday night, winning 69-61.

The buzz was off the charts for this game, but I found better energy in the air prior to Kentucky’s Elite Eight game against Baylor.

This has been a wonderful season by any measure, with Kentucky having been ranked No. 1 in the country since midway through the season, but if this talented squad of mostly underclassmen didn’t at least make the Final Four there would have been a sense of disappointment.

Not to worry, Kentucky dismantled Baylor from the opening bell on its way to an 82-70 victory.

Once the matchup with Louisville was set, there was nervous energy emanating from both Lexington and Louisville. This wasn’t the stage where these two wanted to play. Too much to lose.

The state of Kentucky ended up being like the parent of two brothers on rival teams – having to nervously watch them battle one another, rooting for and against both.

Something about it wasn’t that enjoyable to watch. I’d much prefer some random team for either to face, so I could have whole heartedly gotten behind either being victorious.

With a tip of the hat to Louisville for playing such inspired basketball – Kentucky now will face another familiar foe in Kansas for the national championship, at 9:23 ET.

Generally I’m OK with Kansas. It’s a great program, historic, and plays the game the way it should, clean and crisp. Allen Fieldhouse offers an amazing environment and the Jayhawk mascot is iconic.

That being said, the whole “Rock Chalk Jayhawk” thing needs to be silenced tonight.

This will be Calipari’s fourth Final Four appearance and second shot at a title. As an added plot twist, these two coaches met previously in this same game, with Bill Self’s Kansas Jayhawks beating Calipari’s Memphis Tigers for the 2008 NCAA championship.

Memphis had Kansas beat, up nine with just over two minutes remaining in the game, but lost in overtime.

As it turns out it would have been really painful had Memphis held on to win, since the NCAA vacated that entire Memphis season. It was bad enough removing the Final Four banner, imagine nullifying a championship.

This Kansas team isn’t as explosive as that 2008 squad, and the team Calipari has assembled at UK is more talented than the Memphis one led by reining NBA MVP, Derrick Rose.

It took Calipari five years and three NIT appearances before he got Memphis rolling. There was no lead in necessary at Kentucky.

Calipari was already a top-tier recruiter, but at UK he had the marquee brand to go with his spin, and immediately landed the number one overall recruit in John Wall, along with Demarcus Cousins, Eric Bledsoe and Daniel Orton – who all went to the NBA.

Coach Cal is a gaudy 101-14 in three seasons at Kentucky, and has advanced further each season, from Elite Eight, to Final Four, and now a berth in the national title game.

Each of these teams have been rebuilt mostly from scratch, and there is controversy around that. His system of relying on one-and-done players may not be in the best interest of college basketball, but he’s winning.

“Calipari gets a lot of credit for recruiting,” Self said. “But the thing that I think is sometimes lost is, he’s one of the very best coaches there is in the country.”

One of Calipari’s specialties is personality management. This is often more of a skill seen in the pros, where multiple all-stars must be kept happy in order for them to produce on the court.

Calipari, the former head coach of the New Jersey Nets, has consistently been able to bring in 5 star recruits to Kentucky, who all think they are the next LaBron James, and convinced them to buy into ‘WE’ instead of ‘ME.’

In return for this unselfishness Calipari gets them ready for the NBA as freshman and sophomores.

This current Kentucky team may have the No.1 and No. 2 overall picks in this year’s NBA draft.

The first will be Kentucky All-American Anthony Davis, who today won the Naismith Trophy for men’s college player of the year. It’s a distinct possibility that the second pick will be fellow freshman Michael Kidd-Gilchrist.

As a slight counterbalance to this, today Kansas coach Bill Self was voted Naismith Men’s College Basketball Coach of the Year.

Self knows all too well the daunting task his Jayhawks have before them tonight.

Kentucky and Kansas met on Nov. 15, when the Wildcats beat the Jayhawks 75-65.

Admittedly, the Jayhawks unanimous ballot All-American, Thomas Robinson, hadn’t found his potential yet, fouling out in frustration with 11 point in 27 minutes.

Problem for Kansas is Kentucky’s improvement arc is even greater.

The Wildcat faithful are salivating for a victory.

After Kentucky’s win over Louisville, hundreds of fans poured into the streets of downtown Lexington to celebrate.

For whatever reason UK students like to burn stuff when they win – similar to Maryland. I’ve never understood this, but numberous cars and old couches lit up Lexington’s skyline, resulting in road closures and two dozen arrests.

“The state of Kentucky is so connected to this program. It’s the commonwealth’s team,” coach John Calipari said. “They go overboard sometimes.”

Hundreds of officers will be out Monday night to keep order. Remember UK students haven’t stopped drinking bourbon since Friday. The majority obey the law, but burning stuff can sound like a good idea after a couple bottles of Jim Beam.

“I don’t want to go to that person’s house. They don’t have nowhere for me to sit,” said Kentucky forward Terrence Jones, referring to the burning couches. “That’s crazy!”

In 1998, the last time Kentucky won the national championship, 300 police officers in full riot gear lined the streets to keep the estimated 15,000 fans who gathered under control.

It’s fitting the game is being played in New Orleans at the Superdome, where redemption and vindication are themes. Hurricane Katrina ripped the roof off that gym, but faith and perseverance replaced it – and that was rewarded with the New Orleans Saints winning a Super Bowl.

The Superdome is where North Carolina won on a jumper by Michael Jordan against Georgetown; the Chicago Bears Super Bowl-shuffled all over the New England Patriots; it’s where Chris Webber and Michigan’s Fab Five called a timeout they didn’t have; where Adam Vinatieri kicked a field goal as time expired to give Tom Brady his first Super Bowl; and where Louisville native Muhammad Ali won his last fight in 1978.

If Calipari wins tonight it will be the ultimate vindication, and places a stamp of approval on his coaching style.

With the championship on the line only one thing needs to be said:

C – A – T – S.

CATS! – CATS! – CATS!

GO CATS!

Let’s get this done Kentucky. That eighth banner sure would look sweet up in the rafters of Rupp Arena.

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Battle for the Bluegrass in the Big Easy

LOUISVILLE AND KENTUCKY FACE OFF IN THE FINAL FOUR

Y’all ready for this?!?

Saturday at 6:09 ET, the University of Louisville Cardinals will square off in New Orleans against the University of Kentucky Wildcats in a Final Four matchup to decide one of the teams vying for the NCAA men’s college basketball championship.

This is one of those rare basketball moments that requires no additional hype, but for those not living in the Bluegrass, it might help to re-frame why this duel between bitter rivals rates so high.

Off the bat, the only games in college basketball history resembling the magnitude of this matchup takes us back to the 1961 and 1962 seasons, when in-state rivals Cincinnati and Ohio State played for the national championship two years in a row.

Intrastate rivalries are not unique, nor are border battles between connected states, but to elevate them past the ordinary and onto a national stage requires perceived excellence by both schools.

I give the nod to the Tobacco Road boys for having the premier college basketball rivalry. North Carolina and Duke are only separated by eight miles and play in the same conference.

But they have never played in the Final Four, and that rivalry gets dinged slightly by the fact the two schools do play at least twice a year. Each team gets a chance to avenge a loss to the other, while the Battle for the Bluegrass is a one game affair for all the bragging rights.

That is until this year.

* * * * *

Kentucky and Louisville have met 4 times in the NCAA tournament, with each winning two, but the Cards won the “Dream Game” confrontation in 1983, that really lit the fire under this rivalry.

Louisville, under hall of fame coach Denny Crum, was an elite basketball power in the 1970s and 80s. Kentucky coaches Adolph Rupp and Joe B. Hall considered Crum’s Cardinals the lesser step brother, and refused to recognize their emergence by meeting them on the basketball court.

It had been 61 years since Kentucky faced Louisville. Even after Louisville won the 1980 NCAA championship, Coach Crum couldn’t get UK to return his phone calls.

Here is where the NCAA’s peculiar sense of humor intervened.

Everyone wanted to see Kentucky play Louisville, and everyone knew Kentucky was dodging them, so the NCAA selection committee placed the Wildcats and the Cardinals into the Mideast Region together, where they met in the Elite Eight, with Louisville advancing to the Final Four after defeating Kentucky, 80-68 in overtime.

This triggered an uproar heard around the state and saw the sitting governor, John Y. Brown, Jr., intervene with UK officials to insist Kentucky resume playing Louisville on a yearly basis.

These days the prevailing thought in UK’s camp tends to be that they possess the steadier of the two programs, and while Louisville will win occasionally, Kentucky should dominate the series.

The two schools have played 43 times since 1913, and every year since 1983, with Kentucky ahead in the series 29-14.

* * * * *

Another aspect cranking up the volume on this game is the history of these two programs and where they rank in the pantheon of college basketball.

Kentucky and Louisville share 9 national championships between them – same number as UNC/Duke.

Kentucky’s 109 NCAA tournament wins, 52 NCAA tournament appearances, 2,088 total victories, and a .763 winning percentage are all ranked first in college basketball history. UK’s seven national championships are second only to UCLA’s 11.

The Louisville Cardinals are just outside the honor roll of college basketball, ranked seventh by my calculations. The Cards have two national titles, 64 NCAA wins (6th), 38 NCAA appearances (5th), an overall record of 1662-863 (16th), for a win percentage of .658 (9th).

This is a huge game for both schools that have diametrically opposed fan bases. Kentucky’s faithful refuses to acknowledge Louisville belongs on the same page of greatness with their beloved Wildcats, and Cardinal fans could care less.

It’s hard to say whether there is a direct racial undertone to this rivalry, but it’s a legitimate topic of discussion.

What is not conjecture is the tone set by UK’s legendary coach Adolph Rupp, who was blatantly stubborn to accept integration of his all-white Kentucky teams. This was a philosophy that started in the 1930s and continued until he retired in 1972.

There always has been this unstated sense of black versus white, urban versus country, within this rivalry.

Geography and demographics have a lot to do with this.

The city of Louisville is situated on Kentucky’s northern border, just across from Indiana. It’s a river town and a gateway west and to the East Coast. It has always been an important hub in the upper-South for shipping and travel, and best known as the host city for the Kentucky Derby.

These are elements that lend to having a diverse population.

Metro Louisville is over 700,000 people, by far the largest city in the state, and 17th largest in the country, with an African-American population of 21 percent.

Lexington is the second largest city in Kentucky at 295,803, rating 63rd largest in the country, and has an African-American population of 14.5 percent.

Located in central Kentucky, Lexington is known as the “Horse Capital of the World.” Less urban than Louisville and more tony and insular, Lexington embraces an old-South charm.

This country club set likes its basketball blue and white.

If you think in terms of a political map – Louisville is the lone red spot in a state of Wildcat blue, which is the exact opposite of the state’s political affiliations.

Often there are misconceptions about these two universities being radically different, when in reality they aren’t that dissimilar.

Kentucky has an enrollment of over 27,000 students. Its population is 78.4 percent white, with 6.6 percent being African-American.

Louisville’s enrollment is 19,743, of which 77.4 percent are white, and 10.9 percent are African-American.

What keeps the pot boiling between these two is their campuses are only 78 miles apart, which places students and alumni in close proximity to taunt one another.

* * * * *

It’s not possible to fully explain the insane devotion that comes with UK basketball fans. It takes normally rational, well-educated people and turns them into blood lusting blue-clad savages.

Louisvillians tend to be a bit more even keeled about their passion for the Cardinals. They want them to win, and certainly beat Kentucky, but can get on with their days regardless.

Kentucky fans also have a militant subsection that can be downright ugly. This group is about as witty as a bag of hammers. They take this sport WAY too seriously, and attach their own self-worth to the success of Kentucky’s basketball program.

This group thinks they are part of the team. When referring to an upcoming Kentucky game you’ll hear, when “WE” play Florida, blah, blah, blah, as if they are actually going to be out on the court playing defense.

Ironically, this crew is lucky if they finished high school, much less darkened the doors of UK, Louisville, or even a second-rate community college. They barely have the right to be a fan of a university program, much less pass judgement on a school like Louisville.

Previously, differences could have been drawn between the racial make up or style of play at Kentucky and Louisville, but that hasn’t been true for some time.

In fact Louisville’s coach, Rick Pitino, is the former Kentucky coach. He was hired away from the New York Knicks in 1989 to come and rescue UK in the aftermath of the recruiting scandal surrounding former coach Eddie Sutton.

Pitino has seen both sides of this rivalry. He took the Wildcats to the promised land in 1996, winning the national championship, then returned to the NBA after losing the 1997 title game to Arizona.

When Kentucky went on to win the 1998 NCAA championship, under coach Orlando “Tubby” Smith, Pitino referred to Kentucky as “The Roman Empire of college basketball.”

“There will be people at Kentucky that will have a nervous breakdown if they lose to us,” said Pitino. “You’ve got to watch. They’ve got to put fences up on bridges. There will be people consumed by Louisville.”

There’s some truth to that statement, and there’s the possibility that Pitino is trying to stew the pot under John Calipari, the current Kentucky coach.

These two don’t share the best relationship. Pitino’s Cardinals went up against Calipari’s Memphis teams when they were both in Conference USA, and since Calipari has come to Lexington, the icy veneer on their relationship has only thickened.

Interestingly these two coaches have reversed their usual roles. Pitino, 59, was always the more established of the two. The dapper-dressed New Yorker coached teams like the New York Knicks, Kentucky Wildcats, Boston Celtics and Louisville Cardinals.

Meanwhile, Calipari, 53, was seen as a snake oil salesman, looking for opportunities to spin why his UMass, New Jersey Nets or Memphis teams mattered, and that he belonged with the Big Boys – but in a less dignified manner.

Before it would have been enough to simply share the court with a Pitino team, because in Calipari’s head that made them equal.

Now Calipari is the coach of resource-rich Kentucky, the winningest program in college basketball history, and Pitino is up the road, where he’s never been able to recruit as well as expected.

Pitino’s Louisville teams are gritty and resourceful, but have lacked that NBA lottery pick-caliber of player.

Calipari began stockpiling high draft picks at UMass with Marcus Camby (2nd-1996), then at Memphis with Derrick Rose (1st-2008) and Tyreke Evans (4th-2009).

Wasting no time, Calipari stepped into the mess at Kentucky left after the firing of Billy Gillispie, and had five players selected in the first round of the NBA Draft: John Wall (1st-2010); DeMarcus Cousins (5th-2010); Patrick Patterson (14-2010); Eric Bledsoe (18th-2010); and Daniel Orton (29th-2010).

In his second year, Calipari reached the Final Four and sent four more players to the NBA: Brandon Knight (8-2011); Enes Kanter (3-2011); Josh Harrellson (45-2011); and DeAndre Liggins (53-2011).

Calipari specializes in point guards, and has a reputation for taking young, talented players and getting them coached up to enter the NBA quick.

His dribble-drive offense is designed to replicate the style run by professional franchises. It requires playmakers, not role models, and is incumbent upon landing the top-level of high school talent each year.

Calipari is also known for exploiting the concept of one-and-done players; recruits so accomplished they will only stay one year in college before jumping to the NBA.

In this system talent supersedes everything else.

This has quickly drawn the ire of almost every fan base except for the one where Calipari is coaching. There’s venom outside the Bluegrass for how these Kentucky teams are built. One because it creates a revolving door in the program and necessitates constantly rebuilding. Also, it turns UK into a default NBA training facility.

But Calipari has the Big Blue winning. The Wildcats are back in the Final Four and favored to win. That is something UK fans might consider selling their children over.

What’s not to like? Try this.

Calipari is the only coach to direct three different colleges to a No. 1 seed in the NCAA Tournament. He also is one of only two coaches to reach the Final Four with three different teams – Rick Pitino being the other coach by chance.

The problem, neither of those records are on the books.

The NCAA officially vacated Calipari’s 1996 UMass team’s Final Four appearance due to Marcus Camby accepting money from an agent.

The entire 2007-2008 season for the Memphis Tigers was vacated, including its NCAA run and national runner-up status due to academic violations by Derrick Rose.

The record John Calipari does hold is for being the only head coach to have a Final Four appearance vacated at more than one school.

Although Calipari wasn’t personally implicated in any of this wrong doing, the perception is he runs his programs fast and loose – whatever it takes to win and keep those draft picks coming in.

This is what haunts Kentucky in the dark. They know how close North Carolina, Kansas and Duke are behind their records. Losing 30-win seasons or taking down a championship banner would be devastating.

Check any message boards on the Web about the Final Four – there’s plenty of hate for Calipari to go around:

“UK = soon to be vacated championship.”

“Kentucky, I’m not a Fan, but I just hope that John C. don’t do to you what he did to the Memphis Tigers! I’m not a fan of them either, but that Man is just WRONG!”

I can hear the blue and white contingent screaming about Pitino’s sexual indiscretion with Karen Cunagin Sypher, and the tawdry extortion trial that ensued. I think all agree that wasn’t the brightest moment for Pitino or Louisville, but Sypher was found guilty.

* * * * *

SEC coaches voted John Calipari the 2011-2012 coach of the year after he led the Wildcats to a 30-1 record and a No. 1 national ranking. Freshman Anthony Davis was named Player of the Year, Freshman of the Year and Defensive Player of the Year – accolades he is anticipated to win nationally, along with being named a first-team AP All-American.

The difference between Kentucky and Louisville is UK has a starting five that soon will be playing in the NBA. A couple of Louisville’s guys will get a shot, but Davis is going to be the number one overall pick in the NBA this year as a freshman.

After Knight jumped to the NBA last year, Calipari reloaded with Davis, guard Marquis Teague, forward Michael Kidd-Gilchrist, and forward Kyle Wiltjer, to go along with returning starters Terrence Jones, Doron Lamb and senior Darius Miller.

Make no mistake Jones and Lamb stuck around to win a title.

Pitino usually can get two guys with NCAA star power, then mixes glue guys around them – work horses that make limited mistakes and outwork their opponents.

Problem is these are jump shooting teams. Pitino doesn’t have a Davis, Jones, Antoine Walker, or Jamal Mashburn; monsters that can get in the lane, overpower players, and score easy baskets.

He has Peyton Siva (6-0), Chris Smith (6-2), and Kyle Kuric (6-4). Nice players, who at times couldn’t drain a three if they were shooting alone in an empty gym. But sometimes they do hit a pressure three with the game on the line, and that’s what makes Louisville an exciting to watch.

They are the quintessential college team. A bunch of young men who play great at times together and at others make mistakes. When Louisville limits those turnovers and don’t have a cold shooting night they can beat anyone.

Against Kentucky, Louisville’s guards will have to get their shots off over Miller (6-8), Doron Lamb (6-4) or Kidd-Gilchrist (6-7), UK’s version of a shutdown corner. It’s not impossible, but it is asking a lot of these Cards.

Pitino is one of the best at coaching under the single elimination format, which is the beauty of the NCAA tournament. A team only has to be good enough one time. Ask UNLV when Duke broke up the Rebels undefeated season in 1991, or Houston when NC State hung around to win in 1983.

Both coaches have tried to downplay the significance of this game, but you can read between the lines and watch their body language – this is big for both men.

“Dont’ worry about Louisville,” said Calipari. “Don’t worry about them. Let’s just worry about us. That’s what I’m trying to get across to our fans. I’m just worried about us playing at our best. If that’s not good enough, it’s been a heck of a season.”

It’s a noble effort by Coach Cal to downplay the rivalry, and off-handedly lay the groundwork for the worst case scenario, but it’s tongue-and-cheek. Calipari relishes stoking the fires of the Kentucky faithful. He knows just what buttons to push in order to maximize what he calls “The Kentucky Effect.”

For Pitino this breaks perfectly. Louisville is the underdog. They’re playing on house money this deep into March. Pitino will say all the right things leading up to the game, but would love to spoil UK’s victory parade.

Certainly Kansas and Ohio State are big Louisville fans Saturday. No one wants to play the Wildcats. The question from detractors is will the moment get too big and inexperience finally catches up with this freshman-dominated squad, or does their raw talent enable them to overcome any obstacles left in the road?

Kentucky has played two close games this season, at Indiana, and against Vanderbilt in the SEC tournament final – and lost both. When UK really needs a bucket it’s questionable who can deliver it. There’s plenty of guys on this squad willing to take pressure shots, but thus far it’s unclear if they can actually make them.

This Final Four is a talented field. There are no underdogs like Butler, VCU or George Mason to provide easy outs for the big schools. Kentucky, Kansas, Ohio State and Louisville have combined for 13 NCAA tournament championships.

The stars seem aligned for Kentucky to dance upon the madness. They finally got the tournament ride that usually goes to ACC darling Duke. The highest seeded team UK has faced is a #3.

The Final Four happens to be in New Orleans, where Kentucky played three weeks ago in the SEC tournament. There’s probably some members of Big Blue Nation still down on Bourbon Street awaiting their team’s return. More importantly, UK is already familiar with the charged atmosphere in the Big Easy, and all its sights and smells.

No one has gotten to within 12 points of UK so far. There is the feeling this young batch of Kitty Cats will finish in similar fashion to Kentucky’s 1996 team, nicknamed “The Untouchables,” who cruised through Syracuse to an NCAA title.

It’s arguable this Battle for the Bluegrass in the 2012 national semifinal might well be for the championship.

Kentucky beat Kansas 75-65 on a neutral floor earlier this season, and that game wasn’t as close as the score. The Cats were faster and better at every position. Yes Kansas has improved but so has Kentucky, particularly at the guard position.

In last year’s Sweet 16, a less-potent Kentucky team edged a better version of this year’s Ohio State squad.

If Louisville can’t find a way to stop the Big Blue Express, there may be no stopping Kentucky from hanging its eighth championship banner in Rupp Arena.

The Cards only lost by 7 to Kentucky in Lexington when they played on Dec. 31st. This should be an in-your-jersey, backyard brawl on the Bayou Saturday.

Perhaps as a nod to the basketball tradition at both schools, they will play in the first national semifinal, so the winner may rest and scout both Kansas and Ohio State when they tip at 8:49 ET.

Break out the Maker’s Mark, with a splash of Kentucky branch water, and may the best team win.

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