Love Me Love My Dog

You da MAN!

Growing up in my house the 1950s in Clairton, PA was different that growing up elsewhere. We had rules that we did not challenge. One had to do with television sets and the dangers they posed. Of course we were not the first on the block to get a TV or even the second. But when we finally did get the brand new Sylvania TV with Halolight (a muted light that surrounded the TV screen) the rule went into effect - Do not sit closer than six feet from the screen or it will ruin your eyes.

Another rule had to do with Coca Cola. We were forbidden to drink any pop (that is Pittsburgh for soda or soft drink) especially Coke. The reason? Clair Benedetto up the street drank coke and she had stomach problems. It did not matter what other issues were involved or what the nature of the stomach problems might have been. If Clair had stomach problems and she drank Coke, that was enough to ban all soft drinks from our environment. Of course, whenever we went to our grandparent's home, the pop flowed freely.

A third rule was no dogs allowed. I'm not sure why this rule was in place. We did not know in the 1950s that children were allowed to ask questions. They were given rules and had to obey them. End of story. So we did not have the luxury of having a dog in the house, but the Benedettos up the street had several over the years. I remember Pippi especially, a small brown dog.

It was from that frame of reference that once on my own I was almost never without a dog, and more recently a cat. When I married Mrs. Forgot a half sheep dog, half fence-jumping poodle named Lassie came with the deal. Lassie was smart and obedient. She rarely barked except when the water heater began to make noises. We were protected from any wayward water heater that might plan to break into the house and cause us harm, Lassie saw to that. She also loved to play soccer, nosing a ball around the outside perimeter of the pool.

But at age 15 she began to slow down. It was clear her life was in its twilight when she no longer barked at the water hearer heater. One evening after dinner, as was the custom, I let her into the back yard to do the things that are done after dinner. When she did not return after her usual 15 minute break I went out and found her unable to stand. She had apparently had a stroke of some sort and one side of her body would not respond. Try as she might, her left two legs would stand but her right two would not listen to the commands of her brain. I took her to the vet and tearfully said my goodbyes. It was the most difficult thing I ever had to do.

Since then we've gone through the life cycle of two other pets and era always causes reflection. When they are puppies or kittens they are so full of energy and mischief. As they grow they become loyal, fun, and unconditionally loving. It matters not how difficult your day has been, whether you're upset do to road rage on the way home, or whether the holiday bills have put you in a foul mood. When you walk into the house, regardless of the day's traumas, you are met by one who treats you as though you are the most important person in the world - the only one who matters.

It is no wonder that our pets are now treated so well that they are living longer than ever. In fact, over the past 50 years or so the life expectancy of domesticated animals has nearly doubled. Pets now get better nutrition, better care, and have a better health plan than most of their masters. Vets today are like lawyers. You hate to go to them but they are necessary in keeping your life in order. Vets have a much better deal than other doctors. It is true that most doctors, with the possible exception of pediatricians, get bitten by their patients, but pets rarely complain, rarely cry, and hardly ever sue for malpractice.

Even hotels are getting into the pet act. More and more accept pets and many upscale hotels offer spa treatment for the pets as well. What a life! A little blogging music to go with our animal post maestro... do you know "How Much is That Doggie in the Window?"

Dr. Forgot

We Got Class

What's a Little Plaza Among Friends?

The 1950s were idyllic years. I remember delivering papers when I saw the headline that screen idol James Dean had been killed in while racing his sports car in California. Some time later I remember following the exploits of James Starkweather and his 14-year old girlfriend as they ran from police after murdering hr parents. The third big shock to my tender young idyllic mind was watching the movie, "In Cold Blood," made after Truman Capote's spine tingling story about Kansas killers. For some reason I was so fascinated that the killers were caught in Las Vegas during a routine traffic stop on Fremont Street near the train Depot.

When I first arrived in Las Vegas in the 1960s I remember the Union Pacific railway station at the top of Fremont Street in downtown Glitter Gulch. A circular driveway stood before the entrance of the depot encircling a lawn where both locals and tourists stopped to rest between gambling gambols or enjoying a 25-cent shrimp cocktail in the hotel just across the street. Many is the afternoon that I sat there and imagined how the two killers were captured just a block or two away.

Some time afterward the old train depot was demolished, a precursor to how we deal with our history in Las Vegas. The train depot was moved a block or so to the south and merged with the Greyhound bus depot. In the vacated land was build a brand new hotel called the Union Plaza, preserving part of the Union Pacific name. Inside the hotel was a 50,000 watt radio station as well as a restaurant which overlooked Fremont Street and Glitter Gulch. It was a grand hotel by downtown Las Vegas standards. The hotel was sold to to a local casino owner and re-branded as the Las Vegas Plaza. It has stayed as such for the past couple of decades even though ownership has changed hands.

Fast forward to Las Vegas present. As many easterners have done in the past, Donald Trump has discovered us and has begun to build, as has ex-frau Ivana. Owners of New York's famous Plaza Hotel on Fifth Avenue have also decided to follow Horace Greely's advice and go west. They found a little patch of dirt in Las Vegas that suited them and promptly paid more than one billion (with a B) dollars for land that can only grow crops that are green and made of paper. Then the New Yorkers put forth their planned $ 5 billion resort - the Plaza Las Vegas Resort. Whoops

.A dispute over the name "Plaza" is festering. Unlike the fellow named Howard Johnson who was enjoined by the hotel chain from using his own name on his own planned hotel marquis, Plaza Las Vegas argues that it has had a long and proud history and that the bully boys from the city that began as New Amsterdam (yup, that was the original name of New York) cannot just come in waving their 5 billion smackeroos and demand naming rights. The plan is just too uppity.

Ok, let's face it. The Las Vegas Plaza is.... well, say Roseann Barr with visitors who live in trailers and the New York Plaza is.... ok, say Angelina Jolie but without adopted children. Owners of the New York joint want the case heard in federal court. The locals want it heard locally. But name changes happen all the time - the old Castaways became the Mirage. The Dunes became Bellagio. Sands became Venetian, Desert Inn became Wynn, the Bonanza became MGM Grand then MGM became Bally's, and the Showboat became the Castaways before it was demolished and became a pile of rubble. A little blogging music maestro.... how about a few bars from "What's Your Name?"

Dr. Forgot

Las Vegas Marathon Hero

A Hop Skip and a Jump

Where else but Las Vegas would 18,000 people show up to take off most of their clothes and run around early on a Sunday morning in December? Where else but Las Vegas would showgirls wearing more clothes than runners, hand out free drinks to people racing by? Where else but Las Vegas would 150 couples say their wedding vows while running 26 miles? And where else but Las Vegas would a Russian woman win $ 45,000 without first having pulled a slot machine handle? The 2007 Las Vegas Marathon has run its course and been put to bed until it will be revived next December.

President Bush and Vladimir Putin might be at odds over world affairs but Las Vegas showed the best kind of détente when Russian distance runner Silviya Skvortsova ran away with all honors including a heads up victory over her male competition. I'm not sure how much $ 45,000 is in rubles but no doubt it will spend like new money in the old Soviet Union. Aside from the money, why anybody would want to run a marathon is all Greek to me. My version of exercise is pushing the remote often enough to channel surf.

Admittedly Las Vegas is better known for its smilers than for its milers, but as in every event brought to our fair city the marathon was done with Las Vegas style and panache. With more Elvises per square mile than anywhere else on Earth, disappearing tigers, Blue Men, swooners, crooners, and even a few mooners, Las Vegas put its unique stamp on the Marathon.

On this day, however, there was one hero that was pretty much overlooked. Four years ago a couple of durggies who had allegedly been duped over the sale of some snow sought retribution. They knocked on the trailer door of the salesperson but only an 10 year old girl and her younger sister were inside. The druggies tricked the kids into opening the door and proceeded to stab both children viciously. The younger child died from her wounds but the 10 year old fought off death like the hero she is.

The injuries did take their toll though on Britteney. Paralyzed from the waist down she will be wheelchair bound for life. While adults all felt sorry for her, Britteney decided to get on with her young life and make the most of the hand dealt to her. She became an honor student and active in school activities. About three years ago she began to compete in wheelchair races and at age 15 she entered this year's Las Vegas Half Marathon wheelchair division. Oh yes, she not only completed the race, she won her division. Nobody who knew her seemed surprised.

The marathon was again a success. How about a little traveling music maestro.... let me think..... ok, "Hail to the Victors."

Dr. Forgot

College Sport - Good, Bad, and Ugly

What a Season!

Today we are a little off topic. College football is one of my favorite pastimes. I have worked closely with athletic programs at major universities and must tell you the excitement generated on a campus that has a winning program is like no other. The highs are higher and the lows lower in sport than in life. If sport is art and art does indeed imitate life, sport can teach us plenty about fairness, playing by the rules, consequences, and other life experiences, but there is no correlation between life experiences and those of a winning sport team, especially in a community that had not had one previously.

This analysis comes from a person whose own most intense college athletic experience consisted of shifting into second gear - and I'd often grind the gears when doing that. Ok, truth be told, while in college I did have three wrestling matches in the back seat of a Packard, but I don't tout those because I was pinned two out of the three times. Despite such a dearth of college athletic experiences, or maybe because of it, I found myself in the position of providing academic support services for student athletes at a major Division-I athletic program. I soon discovered a few basic truths: despite the stereotype, the vast majority of college athletes do indeed have the intelligence to complete a college degree. Most have a much stronger sense of self discipline than does the average student. Those truths are balanced by the fact that too often their coaches do not have the academic well being of the student athlete foremost in their mind.

I once approached a coach who had made much of the fact that his athletes were provided academic support services and he was most supportive of required study halls, academic progress reports, class schedules that were built around an actual major other than eligibility, and all things academic. When his star running back missed several study halls I approached the coach and suggested it would make a strong statement to both the team and the community at large if the student athlete were suspended for one game for missing required study sessions. The coach invited me into his office, closed the door, and gave me a strong dose of reality.

"Doc," he said, "That running back will probably be the determining factor whether we win Saturday's game." I was with him so far and told him that is exactly why a suspension would show the importance placed on academics in this university's athletic program. He held his hand up to stop me and continued, "If we have a zero graduation rate and my record on the field is 11-0 and we go to a bowl game, I will not only get to keep my job, I will get a bonus and probably a raise as well as bonuses for my staff and probably a great recruiting class for next year. However, if our graduation rate is 100% and our record on the field is 0-11, I will get fired and so will my staff."

I left his office with that feeling in the pit of my stomach that feels like I'd just had a dose of reality shoved down my throat and I didn't like it. The coach was willing to support my efforts for academic excellence but only to a point. So I decided to conduct an informal survey to see if that view was either held or supported by faculty, community members and members of the booster club whose money, along with the revenue earned by playoffs, bowl games, TV appearances, ticket sales, etc. provided for more than 80% of the budget of the athletic program.

First on my list were faculty members. I spoke to a cross section from all academic disciplines without regard to whether or not athletes would enroll for their classes. The results surprised me. Probably five percent of the faculty members spoke desparagingly about athletes. One, a philosophy professor, even told me that he did not feel athletes belong on a college campus and on the first day of class he always asks if there are any athletes. For those foolish enough to admit their status he tells them to drop his course. When I asked those who could be categorized as anti-athlete why they felt this way, especially if athletes rarely register for their classes, I heard every stereotype of a student athlete that one could imagine - they don't come to class, they're disruptive, they cheat, they require extra time when schedules require makeup work, etc.

Another five percent or so of the faculty were strong supporters of athletes and athletics. I was told that they welcome athletes in their class and do everything possible to accommodate them even if it means bending rules. One even asked it I could get tickets for his family and relatives who planned to visit over a particular weekend. I declined. After removing the 10% (5% anti and 5% overly "helpful") I found that the other 90% of the faculty couldn't care less what their students did outside their class. They were there to teach and offer support as needed.

The next group I informally surveyed were community members. I discovered roughly the same breakdown as in the faculty. Five percent were pro athlete, five percent were anti and 90% couldn't care less. But among the boosters, as one might expect, most believed the athletes should receive extra benefits. A surprising number couldn't care less whether the student athlete graduated, attended class or not. They just wanted to be entertained.

I took the results of my informal survey to the Director of Athletics at the university, a 30-year veteran of intercollegiate athletics who had been an athlete, coach, professor, and administrator, and told him what I had discovered and asked if the results surprised him. He said he felt what I'd found was fairly representative of the groups I'd surveyed and then smacked me with my next dose of reality. He said, "Do you think the community in general cares about what goes on in a university outside the athletic department?" As I looked up dumbfounded he continued, "Look no further than the local newspaper. Sports has its own section. Academics is relegated to perhaps a story or two when a bond issue is floated or teachers ask for a raise, or tuition costs rise. Otherwise, most Americans turn to the sports page first."

I left the office a sadder but wiser person. It is true, most people don't care about athletics unless their team is in contention for a trophy. So who is to protect the athletes from being exploited? Is it the college presidents who see winning teams as an opportunity to generate more fund raising for the university's general fund ? Is it the regulatory agency, the NCAA who earn millions, perhaps billions in TV revenue and other revenue generating sources built on the backs of 18-22 year old young people? Is it the coaches associations whose athletes are from poor and minority backgrounds in far greater percentages than the mostly white male coaching and administrative staffs?

No, my readers, college athletics is less about sport than business. Even athletes who show enough promise to have a professional career are forbidden to leave college prior to the time their graduating class has graduated. The college athlete is an indentured servant. What's that you say? In return for sacrificing his body for four years he gets a free education and academic support services? That is only partly true - assuming the athlete does not have a career-ending injury, does not turn out to be a "recruiting mistake" whose athletic ability did not develop, or who did not drop out for other reasons. Besides, the college degree might be worth $ 20,000 per year but the revenue paid to the university for one of the larger bowl games can exceed $ 10,000,000. College sports are big business. A little traveling music, maestro.... how about "Pennies From Heaven."

Dr. Forgot

Las Vegas Marathon

No Streaking on the Strip

The 2007 Las Vegas Marathon is scheduled to be run and walked Sunday. The weather promises to be cold, which is a relative term. The low 60s might feel a bit chilly if you live in San Diego, but downright pleasant if you hail from New England. But if you are one of the 18,000 or so who traveled to the Valley of the Dollars for the weekend in order to run, I hope you have a good time. A marathon is way too much exercise for me.

The Boston marathon is famous, as is the New York City Marathon. Las Vegas is small change by their standards, but Las Vegas has its unique marathon features. The race is kicked off with the help of a fireworks display and 4,000 volunteers line the 26 mile route to hand out water, render first aid and provide what ever it is marathon runners need. Several entertainers will take part in the run including members of the Blue Man Group as well as cast members from the many Circus de Soliel shows and other dancers and performers.

That got me to thinking. Is there a marathon in Boise? And if so do the runners include potatoes? What about the Boston marathon? Are runners fed baked beans for energy and additional speed? Ok, let's not go there. But what about Washington D.C.? Do politicians run for more than just election results? And how can they run 26 miles with their hands in their own pockets when they are so used to having them in the pockets of the public? Does the Pittsburgh marathon require runners to have steel-toed shoes?

The Las Vegas Marathon will start and end on the Strip but it will begin at 6 a.m. when most serious gamblers and partiers will jest be getting to bed. The famous Las Vegas Strip will be closed to auto traffic for most of the race so the drunks will have to find another venue to run into each other.

Runners come from around the world. Some are actually professionals whose job it is to run marathons. The winner can benefit more than by hitting three sevens on a quarter slot machine. Last year's winner ran away with $ 65,000. Not bad for a quick 26 mile jog. Of course, the other 17,999 people who don't win the race get to soak their bunions in hot water after the race. But at least they can catch a few shows and maybe hit a jackpot or two. A little marathon music maestro.... how about "I'm walking to New Orleans."

Dr. Forgot

No House Like a Ho-Ho-Ho House

You'd Better Watch Out

You'd better not cry, I'm telling you why. Repo sales are coming to town. The banks are making a list and checking it twice and they'll figure out whose payments aren't nice. Then more foreclosures will make owners frown. If you bought your home on margin, and paid no money down, when lenders threw their cash around like candy from a clown. If the rate you got's adjustable the piper must be paid. The mortgage ain't combustible and your payments will not fade. So unless you're Steve Wynn or one of those guys, like Ed McMahon with a million dollar prize, you will realize that "foreclosure's" a noun.

Much media has been focused on the housing slump. Of course, that, along with the ex-cop suspected of offing a pair of wives and so-called candidate debates conspire to take our minds off the thousands who have died and tens of thousands of American soldiers who have been injured in the Middle East. It makes one wonder just how bad the housing crisis is. One thing is for sure, in my neighborhood housing asking prices have fallen up to a couple of hundred thousand dollars and the five homes for sale at the moment have been so for months, or in one case, years. However it is difficult to tell how many homes that are foreclosed upon will place owners on the street and how many are owned by investors who bought to flip.

Still the Las Vegas population seems to be growing by about 6,000 new residents each month and job growth remains above the national average. That rate of growth (more than 70,000 new residents each year) has continued for more than a decade. That rate of growth has caused the infrastructure problems that one might expect - the opening of a new school every month, roads being built, then overcrowded, torn up, and rebuilt, and shortages of water. But it has also resulted in higher density housing. Apartments and condos that rarely exceeded two stories are now being stacked higher. And for the people who lose their houses? Some will leave, but the majority will stay and move into rentals.

Times they are a changing in Las Vegas and throughout the country. The answer now is the same as it was in the previous elections, "It's the economy, stupid." But the more pressing questions are when will we start to bring our soldiers home in a one horse open sleigh instead of in caskets and how will we know when we've won the war?"

Dr. Forgot

Is The Juice Turning Sour?

Will The Juice Have Juice in Vegas?

Juice is a Vegas term. It means political connections, drag, pull, influence. But a bad choice Minute Made Orange Juice, aka Orenthal James, aka OJ Simpson the talk of the town. Many think the former knife pitcher is guilty of bringing down Miss Brown in L.A town. Was OJ guilty? Jury says "No," Mr. Man of Gold says, "Not only yes, but Hell Yes!" Seems like the away crowd knew the Juicer was a stabber but the home crowd waved off the penalty and avoided the big Hertz. But that was long ago and far away. While the country withered at a mis-justice, the Juice did anything but wither on the vine. In fact, he moved to the state that resembles a flaccid male member and added vitamin G for golf and proceeded to live happily ever after.

But a funny thing happened to him on the way to retrieve his memorabilia. He got busted. Both of his two faces showed up on the TV screen - the one in which his profanity-laced diatribe bullied memorabilia salesmen into submission, and his TV persona side which appeared in the courtroom humble and contrite as a lad whose hand was caught in the Sunday collection plate. The pony-tailed young judge, son of a seasoned veteran judge who a few years earlier had sentenced Binion murders to the gallows (they were later set free) told the Juice man that he needed to return to the Valley of the Dollars for arraignment. And so he did.

In what resembled a cocktail party, with the OJ half of the screwdriver mingling with reporters the judge met behind closed doors with his high powered attorneys. As for the old Buffalo Bill, he then mingled with others in the courtroom, regaling his son's athletic ability, discussing Thanksgiving dinner, smiling and wishing anybody who would listen, "Happy Holidays." Perhaps he is hoping it is beginning to look a lot like Christmas and hoping that despite being naughty, the Las Vegas court system will treat him nice.

Within ten minutes, the grizzled veteran of courtrooms and charges pleaded not guilty to the kidnapping and armed robbery charges of two sports goodies salesmen in a hotel room. He had set a date with destiny, or at least a trial date of April 7, 2008. As he left the courthouse one could almost hear the female voice from his old Hertz car rental ad saying, "Go OJ." Others in the crowd held up signs and suggested more specific place that he might go. How about a little dancing music to get us on our way. Maestro, do you know a tune called, "The courtroom Waltz?"

Dr. Forgot