Despite our inactivity, my band Slazenger 7 has a new video up and running on YouTube. This video is for our anthem titled “Chicago.” Guitarist Todd put this together a few weeks ago, though we shot the footage in drummer Matt’s basement well over a year ago. It’s a pretty good piece of work, in my opinion. How it hasn’t caught on nationally (or at least city-wide) I’m not sure. Once it starts playing, if you click on the vid it’ll take you right to YouTube, where you can rate the video or leave a comment. I invite you to do both.

Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy.

So I’ve let a few months lapse by since I’ve really written a post. I threw a little thing up about the passing of Bettie Page, of course, but that simply needed doing. So I’ve decided to post something new here. I’m a bit apprehensive about doing this, but I’m posting a few songs I wrote recently. As some of you who are friends, and others of you who’ve followed the random postings on this blog over the years may know, for a period of time there I played bass in a band with a couple friends. We were called Slazenger 7. Unfortunately, the band has sort of stopped playing. We haven’t broken up or anything, we’ve just stopped playing. It’s a fine line of difference. Anyway, in the time since we’ve been inactive, I’ve come up with a few basslines that I thought were mildly interesting. So I did what I could to fine-tune them into actual songs, then I used GarageBand on my iMac to record them, add drum loops, more suplemental layers of live bass, and my own vocals. So the result is that now I’ve got three relatively complete songs, that I don’t know what to do with. So, rather than having them languish away on my own iTunes, I thought I’d share them with whoever stumbles upon this page. Since these aren’t actual Slazenger 7 songs, I’ve been labeling the artist as Slazenger 7.5. So I guess Slazenger 7.5 is just me.

Keep in mind that there are no guitars on these songs at all, and they’re recorded with the intention of adding guitars at some point. Of course, since I don’t play the guitar, I can’t do that. I’ve got an old friend whom I’m hoping will do the job at some point, however.

So, if you’re so inclined, I invite you to take a listen to the first of these songs. It’s titled “I Don’t Care Anymore” and you can give it a listen by clicking on the link below. I’d be interested in hearing some thoughts on it, as well. I’ve gone ahead and included lyrics below each link. That way you can sing along, too! The songs are listed in order beginning with the most recently recorded.

(Each link should open a new window taking you to a page the features the respective song. You should see something that says: “Play: Click here.” So just go ahead and click there. Thanks.)

I Don’t Care Anymore

The song ended just as his car began to sputter.
So he began to mutter.
He’s out of gas so far away from anywhere.
So he began to mutter.

CHORUS
This sucks I don’t care anymore.
Even karma should be good one time out of four
It’s not just mine but your life too that I abhor
I don’t look forward to what else is in store.

Things got worse when his car caught fire.
That’s right. It caught fire.
He just laughed and watched the smoke fly up to the sky.
It caught fire.

He reached into his inside pocket where he found a pen.
He found a pen.
He wrote down some thoughts that would be his goodbye note.
He found a pen.

CHORUS
This sucks I don’t care anymore.
Even karma should be good one time out of four
It’s not just mine but your life too that I abhor
I don’t look forward to what else is in store.

Clever Cleavage

Put your fingers over my eyes
And I’ll know that you’ll mesmerize
Never again try to disguise
Thoughts leading up to our final goodbyes

CHORUS
Just show your clever cleavage in the face of disaster.
Show your clever cleavage to get what you’re after.
Show your clever cleavage and be my master.
When life gives you questions clever cleavage is the answer.

See me sitting on top of the stairs
Hear me spitting out all of my cares
See me walking right out the door
Hear me say nothing no more

See me pick at that scab.
Hear me flag down that cab.

Its door is open and when I get in
A new beginning is about to begin
The cab is checkered and so is our past
And you can’t king me if we aren’t meant to last.

CHORUS
Just show your clever cleavage in the face of disaster.
Show your clever cleavage to get what you’re after.
Show your clever cleavage and you’ll be my master.
When life gives you questions clever cleavage is the answer.

It’s not about how you know (what I do)
It’s all about how you show (that you’re true)
It’s probably all gonna blow (up on you)
So just forget it (I love you)

Fingerlips
So this is the first song I ever did on my own. The lyrics were taken from a pile of songs I’d started writing but never came up with melodies for. So it’s a hodgepodge of different things that may or may not make any sense together. But lyrics aren’t always important. The important thing is the quality and the intensity of the psychedelic intoxicant that you’re enjoying while listening to the song.

Eeny meeny miney mo.
Harry Ashwater’s at the show.
Inky, Blinky, Dinky, Do.
Lick the ashes from the flue.
Come one, come one come all.
Enjoy the night before the fall.

Chorus
Everytime I kiss your lips I get goosebumps through my fingertips.
Everytime I kiss your lips I get goosebumps right through my fingertips.
Everytime I kiss your lips I get those goosebumps through my fingertips.
Everytime I kiss your lips I get goosebumps through my fingertips.

(spoken)
I’ve never been intentionally walked.
I’ve never been unwittingly stalked.
I’ve never seen a pitcher point out that he balked.
And when I die, I wonder if my twisted body will be chalked.

But that is why you can’t assume the double play.
That is why all the heroes have packed up, gone away.
It’s probably why I like Dr. Seuess more than Monet.
But it won’t fix my raging case of immaculate disarray.

Chorus
Everytime I kiss your lips I get goosebumps through my fingertips.
Everytime I kiss your lips I get goosebumps right through my fingertips.
Everytime I kiss your lips I get goosebumps through my fingertips.
Everytime I kiss your lips I get goosebumps through my fingertips.

Summer sun and winter cold.
Springtime rain and autumn mold.
Just like life, these things grow old.
Unless I’m dreaming, I struck gold.
Once or twice, so I’ve been told.
If I may be so very bold,
She’d like to have my hand to hold.
Shall I give it?
I suppose.

Chorus

Tuesday’s blues and Wednesday’s clues,
Thursday’s views are Friday’s news.
The weekend cruise with pretty sweet views,
Make us think about what choose.
But Monday’s dues from the abuse,
Makes us refuse to wait for cues.
Unless we lose our point of views,
We’re all gonna, gonna lose.

Chorus

Bettie passed away last night after suffering a heart attack several days ago. She was 85 years old.
Though her heart may have stopped, her bangs will live forever.

Fare thee well, sweet bondage princess.

bettie_page

Bettie Page stuff

I just have a single simple thought for today:

Playing catch with Adam Dunn must be like playing Frisbee with a hippopotamus.

Adam Dunn - left field - Cincinatti Reds

Adam Dunn - left field - Cincinnati Reds

Sometimes I feel like intelligence can too easily be ignored based solely on lack of strength. I’m an intelligent person. I know this. I have street smarts. I’m wise. I’m aware. But I’m not always informed. As a result, I’m not often strong about defending my convictions. As such, I don’t often impose my thoughts about politics and such on my friends during the occasional political discussions they have. Of course, it happens that a number of my friends are very fervent in their political beliefs, and to engage them in discussion about these beliefs is to place oneself under the scrutiny of their judgement of one’s personal knowledge of the political arena. My political awareness, both locally and nationally does not run deep. I’m under no delusions about this fact. The question is: how much of this lack of current event knowledge is self-imposed?

(Well obviously it’s all self-imposed. No one is blocking information from reaching me. What I mean is, how much am I subconsciously preventing myself from keeping myself in the know?)

I’ve seen the sort of blow-out arguments that occur as a result of basic disagreements. I remember my parents arguing over dinner about things. I’ve watched my father and uncles disagree vehemently with my grandfather on issues regarding race and religion; both trying to argue the points that they’ve known their whole lives. Neither party could necessarily be considered fundamentally wrong, as far as the times in which they each respectively came of age is concerned, but every party is probably indisputably wrong in assuming that they were right.

The problem was that after witnessing these “discussions,” I never felt like anything was solved. It was nothing more than a bunch of screaming, yelling, anxiety, and unease. It was just a bunch of drunken or caffeinated (or both) people trying to make other people believe that they were right about stuff. And maybe they were. But as a kid watching this crap, how the hell was I supposed to know who was right?

I remember one night in particular. There was a strong argument going on at the dinner table at my Aunt Gloria and Uncle John’s house. My grandfather was still alive and my twin cousins were not yet born, which means this took place no less than 22 years ago. The adults were around the dining room table arguing about something while I was in the living room. Unbeknownst to my family (probably to this day) I discovered a Playboy magazine beneath a bunch of other periodicals in a small basket near a chair in their family room. Now as a current subscriber to Playboy myself, and as my uncle was actually probably younger at the time than I am now, it’s important to state that I consider Playboy to be more like a GQ, or a Men’s Health, or some other such magazine, as opposed to an adult girly-mag. But as an 8-12 year old boy, this was the greatest thing I’d ever seen. If I’m not mistaken, this was the issue featuring Joan Collins. I was mesmerized. All I remember is flipping through the pages thinking about what a wonderful thing I was seeing (a naked woman — and a famously well-known one, at that) while all the stupid adults kept arguing about crap that I didn’t understand. I think that moment was defining for me in that I don’t think I ever wanted to understand it.

What’s the point in arguing about things with people whose minds will never change anyway when we could be looking at naked ladies!?

But I guess that’s what makes this world what it is.

I’ve learned over my years that we’re all fucked up in some way. For some of us, the fucked-up-edness (as it were) is a bit more disguised, where as for others it’s relatively blatant. We all learn to deal with our own issues in certain ways. And we all continue on with our lives hoping to prove to the rest of the world that we’re not actually fucked up. We do this by demonstrating our resolve in discussions over politics, religion, sports, the best way to mow a lawn, and so on. The problem is that everyone wants to be right, and seldom is anyone wrong.

Politics is nothing more than a sport. Everyone wants to back a winner. You’re a Republican or a Democrat. You’re a National League fan or an American League fan. You either like NASCAR or you make fun of it. But the truth is that we all want the same thing. That part is easy. The tricky part is that none of us knows what it is we want. Yeah, we want tax breaks. Sure, we want someone who will defend us from terrorists. Of course, we want a leader. Certainly, we want a person who will help us prosper. But how the hell can any of us tell whether one person will be so much better than another. Perhaps the exception is our current president. (“Thank you, Your Holiness. Awesome speech.”) Although, as I think about it, a majority of the jobs I’ve had in my lifetime have come through some sort of nepotism, so how can I criticize others for reaching ranks through similar means. Of course, my jobs haven’t put me in direct command of the most powerful military force on Earth, but still, you see my point.

But I didn’t start writing today to share my thoughts on politics. I love Barak Obama, but I can’t necessarily express to you why I do. Maybe it’s simply because I trust the beliefs of those closest to me, and they, in turn, believe in him. Perhaps this is naive. But frankly, I’m not a whole lot different than I was when I was fifteen. The catch is, I’m much more powerful now than I was then — now I can vote.

Laugh if you want. I’m one vote. Big deal. The thing is, we’re all idiots. We’re all worried about shit we can’t control. We all get worked up over things that we’ll never see resolved and as a result, we make things worse. We’re definitely moving in the right direction. We’re actually lucky enough to have witnessed a Democratic nomination race between a woman and a black man. Can any single person reading this who was alive and aware 20 years ago ever believe that this could be possible? Geraldine Ferrarro was Walter Mondale’s choice for vice-president during his presidential campaign in 1984. It’s doubtful that her selection for this post cost him the election (he was defeated in a landslide by incumbent president Ronald Reagan), but it took 24 years for a female to once again become a significant player in a presidential race.

The problem is that the most remarkable thing about the Democratic race wasn’t that anyone was celebrating what we’ve experienced, but rather that the two unlikely, yet allied party members who were running against each other may have done nothing but ultimately hurt one another. What the hell is up with that? It’ll be interesting to see if Hillary Clinton’s attacks on Obama hurt his chances in the overall race for president. It’ll be even more interesting to see if he actually chooses her as his potential vice-president.

I’m tired. That’s what I am. I’m tired of trying to fake caring about this election, even though I do feel strongly about it. The fact is, my life isn’t going to be a whole hell of a lot different whether a Republican or a Democrat wins. I don’t own property. As of right now, I don’t even have a freakin’ income to have to worry about being taxed. Come January  21, 2009, regardless of which party had the honor of watching their candidate inaugurated into office the day previous, I won’t go to my mailbox to find an envelope full of health insurance waiting for me. I’m struggling financially because of the choices I’m making. Not because of the choices a popular vote and/or Electoral College made (or didn’t make). But god forbid I should appear uninformed.

It doesn’t mean I don’t care. I do care. More than I’ll probably ever actually let on. It’s just simply not more important to me than it is to be able to create a wonderfully written sentence; or to come up with a beautiful musical melody.

Here’s an interesting question: if you had your choice, would you rather trade places with John F. Kennedy or John Lennon? Or how about Ronald Reagan or Roald Dahl? Perhaps the choice between George Washington or George Gershwin?

I’ll almost always choose art, over politics. But that’s not to say that I’ll choose frivolity over freedom. Whatever the fuck that means.

So I haven’t written in a little while. So what. Neither have you, have you?

So I’ve recently rediscovered three classic singles that I think many of us who listen to any sort of Classic Rock station will know, recognize, and appreciate. But I also have to believe that they’re three of the most underrated songs in quite some time. I’ll link to them below as I write about them. Go and listen, one at a time. Listen and read. Listen then read. Whatever you want. But however you hear them, just be sure to let the memories flood back from the deepest recesses of your subconscious. You’ve heard these songs before. You’ll hear these songs again. But from now on, you’ll notice these songs.

Follow the links below to hear each respective artist’s song. If necessary, click on the name of the song within the page’s music player. Then just allow yourself to listen to the songs.

First:
“No Time to Lose” by The Tarney-Spencer Band

I don’t know what it is about this song, but it’s been completely overlooked by filmmakers and soundtrack compiler guys. There needs to be a movie set in the early 80’s that’s the equivalent of something like Dazed and Confused. A film like Breakfast Club doesn’t qualify because it was actually made in the early 80’s. We need a film made now that looks back at the early 80’s in the way that Dazed and Confused looked back at the mid-to-late70’s (it was actually set in 1976, our country’s bicentennial). And this song needs to be part of that film. I will say that a film like Napoleon Dynamite comes close to capturing the mood I’m looking for. Except for the fact that the movie is essentially set in 2003 Idaho. However, the props, costumes, songs, and overall manner of the characters are parachronisms. Within the context of Napoleon Dynamite I sort of see them as parodies of the past placed in the future so as to parody the present. Make sense? Never mind. What’s important is that we get our authentic 80’s movie made today. And this song should be in it. In fact, “No Time to Lose” will be the name of the movie and the first song heard in the film. And to top it all off, Anne and Nancy Wilson of Heart will perform their own cover version of this song over the closing credits. This is significant because their successful mid-80’s comeback (not to mention Nancy Wilson’s chic status as the rocker wife of journalist/author/screenwriter/filmmaker Cameron Crowe. In fact, I suppose he’s sort of the logical choice to write and/or direct a film like this. But I feel like if he did that he’d simply be redoing Almost Famous with a Molly Ringwald feel. Anyway, “No Time to Lose” by the Tarney-Spencer Band. Listen and enjoy.

Second
“Rip Her to Shreds” by Blondie

Although this song was first released in 1976, I think I somehow remember it from being on one of their first Greatest Hits albums from like 1982. But I hadn’t heard it in more than 20 years until about four days ago. It came back to me in an instant and I felt like I was 10 years old again and listening to/overhearing my Uncle Jimmy’s records. (Without question one of my biggest musical influences growing up was my Uncle Jimmy’s vast record collection and his even seemingly vaster music knowledge). But nonetheless, this would make a great soundtrack song for such a movie.

Last:
“The Things We Do For Love” by 10cc

Again, this is a late ’70’s song. But this movie will cover the whole transition from Zeppelin into Pink Floyd into the Alan Parson’s Project into the Steve Miller Band’s 1982 hit “Abracadabra.” What more really needs to be said? This song fits. I see a scene where a romantic montage flowing seamlessly as “The Things We Do For Love” plays gingerly as an accompaniment to the frivolity the viewer enjoys even more as a result of hearing the song being played over that which they watch.

Maybe one of these days I’ll try to explain why I haven’t written in months. In fact, here you go:

I’m lazy.

There. Explained. Let’s move on.

I feel like I might’ve posted this here a long time ago, because I remember seeing this at least a year or so ago. But regardless, I stumbled across it again recently and was blown away by it, so I thought I’d put it up.

Pretty moving, I’d say.

I just got an email from my cousin Jess. Her husband Chris ran in a Seattle Marathon recently and she sent a pic of him with some of the family after the race. It’s always sort of inspiring to me to hear of people accomplishing physical feats such as a marathon or a triathlon. I’m impressed with these individuals because they’re doing something that I’m pretty sure that I’ll never achieve. Feats of strength and endurance simply aren’t for me. I tend to gravitate more toward feats of discontinuance. Like that week where I left every beer I opened with about three or four mouthfuls still at the bottom. It was a difficult task to attempt. And needless to say, I couldn’t stay with it. Once I got into the second week, I had to start finishing those beers.

Anyway, after reading my cousin’s email, I felt like I wanted to be involved in Chris’s next marathon experience. So I volunteered myself to be his personal motivator. I thought that it might be helpful to have someone there to offer up encouragement. So my idea is to rent a moped for the day, and follow him along on the marathon route.

I’m keeping a list of things to yell out that will be sure to push Chris as he toils in the race. Here are some examples of what I’m coming up with:

“Run faster you lazy-gaited sissy-strider!”

“You call that running? I’ve seen 75-year-old refrigerators run better than that!”

“My moped is running outta gas. Let’s stop at that Marathon gas station over there. Here’s 20 bucks. Run in and get me 10 bucks of gas and a Red Bull. And I want my change!”

“From back here you sorta look like Melanie Griffith.”

“Left. Right. Left. Right. Left. Right. Right. Right. Get up, slacker!”

“So then in my third senior year of college I was sorta dating this chick named Sparkles. Her eyes really did sparkle, too! But that was more on account of the bad case of Fungal Keratitis that she acquired somehow. But as a result of her poor eye sight, her other senses were heightened dramatically. Especially her sense of entitlement. Eventually, we had to go our separate ways, but I’ll never forget her scent. She emanated an odor not unlike a rose bush covered with stink bugs, lit on fire, thrown into a bathtub full of hair, and extinguished with a spray of the juice drained from fifty cans of tuna. I miss Sparkles.”

“Pick up the pace, there Prancer. Rudolph is waitin’ for you!”

“Ever hear the song by Bruce Springsteen called ‘Born to Run?’ Yeah. I didn’t think so.”

“Gettin’ tired yet? C’mon, I know you are. Look, there’s an Applebee’s. Let’s get some margaritas.”

“Your shoelace is untied! Just kidding. No, really, it is. Ha. Just kidding.”

“Remember that lady in the Olympics that ran with no shoes on? Remember when she knocked down Mary Decker Slaney and Mary Decker Slaney fell to the infield and started crying? Remember that? The lady without the shoes was named Zola Budd. Remember that? Zola Budd. What a great name. Maybe you should change your name to Zola Budd. You’ll have to take off your shoes though. Remember that Olympics though? It was ‘84. You know what else happened in ‘84? Yep. That’s right! The Chicago White Sox and Milwaukee Brewers played the longest game in MLB history! The 25-inning affair was played over a two day period and lasted 8 hours and 6 minutes. That’s almost as long as it took you to get through the first three miles of this race! How ’bout less slacking and crying and more running, Mary Decker! I’m starving!”

“You run like Nathan Lane with both legs asleep.”

“Push it! C’mon! You can do it! You’re doing great! That’s it. You look great from back here! You should be proud. Keep up with those long strides. Fantastic! That’s it, keep it — Chris, will you shut it back there! I’m helping this young lady with her form — that’s it! Long strides. Let your body rise and fall heavily with each step! Great! That’s just great! Oh yeah!”

“Dude! I’m so bored back here! Lemme use that walkman for awhile, will you? I’ve got a Lionel Ritchie cassette I’d like to listen to.”

“Oh, sweet! There’s a UPS store over there. Let’s run in and pick up some bubble wrap.”

“Aw, look! You just got lapped by Cate!” (Chris’s three-and-three-quarter year old daughter.)

Doesn’t it sorta bring a tear to your eye to think about one man doing so much to help and encourage a fellow man as he participates in a grueling event that tests the body, along with the mind and spirit. But please, don’t embarrass me with praise for my efforts. Just pay it forward. Use these gems of encouragement to help along someone that you love.

Pay it forward.
And let us remember what a wise man once said:

“Sorry about the mess”
-Han Solo

How about that Barak, huh? A strong showing in my second home state of Iowa. I’m so proud of that guy and can’t wait until he’s in the White House.

And who saw Huckabee’s victory speech? I couldn’t take my eyes off Chuck Norris standing behind him. His smile was blinding. I felt like I was staring into the sun. I’m actually sitting here right now watching MSNBC and they’re talking about Chuck Norris in great detail at this very moment. I’m curious to see what sort of spike I get in views here as a result. Everytime Chuck Norris makes the news or becomes the topic of conversation, this site gets massive view numbers. It’s amazing.

Anyway, congrats to Obama. I truly believe he’s the best person for the job. This will sound weird, but I think he reminds me a lot of Abe Lincoln. How could that be, you ask? Because in my mind, I see Abe Lincoln as having a similar oratory style. I have a feeling that we tend to imagine Abe Lincoln as having a very slow, deliberate, almost quiet speaking voice. But whatever. I’m not here to speculate on Lincoln’s speech delivery style. The fact is that Obama knows how sound presidential. He’s got a natural regal quality that demands a level of respect. He knows how to hold a room. He knows how to make everyone think that they’re hearing the most important thing they’ve ever heard. Part of this is because he’s just a good speaker. But it helps that the things he says are the things we want to hear. Much of what he says really is important. In some respects, the things he says very well might be some of the most important things many of us have ever heard. This is a very exciting time. I actually look forward to educating myself further as these primaries progress. Because as those of you who are regular readers know, I’m not exactly the most politically minded person in the world. But I know a good man when I see one, and that man is Barak Obama.

It helps that he seems to have a magnificent speech writer. Here’s the transcript of his Iowa victory speech (as apparently leaked from the New York Daily News):

“They said this day would never come. They said our sights were set too high. They said this country was too divided; too disillusioned to ever come together around a common purpose.

But on this January night – at this defining moment in history – you have done what the cynics said we couldn’t do; what the state of New Hampshire can do in five days; what America can do in this New Year. In schools and churches; small towns and big cities; you came together as Democrats, Republicans and Independents to stand up and say that we are one nation; we are one people; and our time for change has come.

You said the time has come to move beyond the bitterness and pettiness and anger that’s consumed Washington; to end the political strategy that’s been all about division and make it about addition – to build a coalition for change that stretches through Red States and Blue States. Because that’s how we’ll win in November, and that’s how we’ll finally meet the challenges we face.

The time has come to tell the lobbyists who think their money and their influence speak louder than our voices that they don’t own this government, we do; and we’re here to take it back.

The time has come for a President who’ll be honest about the choices and the challenges we face; who’ll listen to you even when we disagree; who won’t just tell you what you want to hear, but what you need to know. And New Hampshire, if you give me the same chance that Iowa did tonight, I will be that President for America.”

I’ll be a President who finally makes health care affordable and available to every single American the same way I expanded health care in Illinois – by bringing Democrats and Republicans together to get the job done

I’ll be a President who ends the tax breaks for corporations who ship our jobs overseas and puts a middle-class tax cut into the pockets of the working Americans who deserve it.

I’ll be a President who harnesses the ingenuity of farmers and scientists and entrepreneurs to free this nation from the tyranny of oil once and for all.

And I’ll be a President who brings our troops home from Iraq; restores our moral standing; and understands that 9/11 is not a way to scare up votes, but a challenge that should unite America and the world against the common threats of the twenty-first century: terrorism and nuclear weapons; climate change and poverty; genocide and disease.

Tonight, we are one step closer to that vision of America because of what you did here in Iowa. And I’d like to take a minute to thank the organizers and precinct captains; the volunteers and staff who made this all possible.

I know you didn’t do this just for me. You did this because you believed deeply in the most American of ideas – that in the face of impossible odds, people who love this country can change it.

I know this because while I may be standing here tonight, I’ll never forget that my journey began on the streets of Chicago doing what so many of you have done for this campaign and all the campaigns here in Iowa – organizing, and working, and fighting to make people’s lives just a little bit better.

I know how hard it is. It comes with little sleep, little pay, and a lot of sacrifice. There are days of disappointment, but sometimes, just sometimes, there are nights like this – a night that, years from now, when we’ve made the changes we believe in; when more families can afford to see a doctor; when our children inherit a planet that’s a little cleaner and safer; when the world sees America differently, and America sees itself as a nation less divided and more united; you’ll be able look back with pride and say that this was the moment when it all began.

This was the moment when the improbable beat what Washington always said was inevitable.

This was the moment when we tore down barriers that have divided us for far too long – when we rallied people of all parties and ages to a common cause; when we finally gave Americans who’d never participated in politics a reason to stand up and do so.

This was the moment when we finally beat back the politics of fear, and doubt, and cynicism; the politics where we tear each other down instead of lifting this country up.

Years from now, you’ll look back and say that this was the moment – this was the place – where America remembered what it means to hope.

For many months, we’ve been teased and even derided for talking about hope.

But we always knew that hope is not blind optimism. It’s not ignoring the enormity of the task ahead or the roadblocks that stand in our path. It’s not sitting on the sidelines or shrinking from a fight. Hope is that thing inside us that insists, despite all evidence to the contrary, that something better awaits us if we have the courage to reach for it, and work for it, and fight for it.

Hope is what I saw in the eyes of the young woman in Cedar rapids who works the night shift after a full day of college and still can’t afford health care for a sister who’s ill; a young woman who still believes that this country will give her the chance to live out her dreams.

Hope is what I heard in the voice of the New Hampshire woman who told me that she hasn’t been able to breathe since her nephew left for Iraq; who still goes to bed each night praying for a safe return.

Hope is what led a band of colonists to rise up against an Empire; what led the greatest of generations to free a continent and heal a nation; what led young men and women to sit at lunch counters and brave fire hoses and march through Selma and Montgomery for freedom’s cause.

Hope is what led me here today – with a father from Kenya; a mother from Kansas; and a story that could only happen in the United States of America. It is the bedrock of this nation; the belief that our destiny will not be written for us, but by us; by all those men and women who are not content to settle for the world as it is; who have the courage to remake the world as it should be.

That is what we started here in Iowa, and that is the message we now carry to New Hampshire and beyond; the same message we had when we were up and when we were down; the one that can change this country brick by brick, block by block, calloused hand by calloused hand – that together, ordinary people can do extraordinary things; because we are not a collection of Red States and Blue States, we are the United States of America; and at this moment, in this election, we are ready to believe again.

I’m not gonna lie to you, watching him give this speech gave me goosebumps.

Long time sports anchor Stu Nahan passed away yesterday at the age of 81. He was prevelent in California sports television as an anchor for about 30 years, but is most famous as being the announcer in all of the Rocky films.

However, I’ll never be able to hear the name “Stu Nahan” without also thinking of Jeff Spiccoli’s dream in which he shared in one of the greatest exchanges in motion picture history.

A highlight:

Spicoli: “Where’d you get this jacket!?”
Nahan: “I got this from the network.”

Enjoy!

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