When it doubt ... eat

I have nothing against skinny people, I just can't be one. I know skinny folks are most likely healthier than me and will probably live longer. Nevertheless, I'm not sure I wan to live that long if my diet is based on flax seed and anything made from soy.
If it tastes good I eat it. I've always been a big fan of eating, in fact, I try eat on a regular basis. Sometime I even do it 3 or 4 times in a give day. Don't get me wrong, I try to have some moderation. I don't want to end up weighing 500 pounds and ending up on the cover a tabloid while the fireman have to haul me out of the house on a crane. But, when the notion hits me, I eat.
You can pretty much fry anything and I'll eat it. From chitlins to Oreo's, I've fried about everything and it all tastes good. There is nothing wrong with a good salad, but a man cannot live on leafy greens alone. I need meat. I want my meat grilled or fried, bar-b-que. I live my deserts too. I've been known to eat my desert first. The way I figure it is I want to eat the best thing on my plate first just in case I die. If I do that then at least I'll have died eating the best.
In the Bible the Lord gave us our marching orders when he said man cannot live by bread alone. Somewhere in there he said we have dominion over all things on land and in the sea. When you have opposable thumbs you can do a helluva lot of dominioning.
I was eating lunch with a friend of mine and we both have different eating habits. He ordered something low-cal that looked like baked gruel. I ordered a country fried steak smothered in sawmill gravy, turnip greens, butterbeans and a biscuit. He looked at my meal and shook his head saying, "Dude, that stuff is going to kill you." I promptly said that he's probably right, this food might one day be the death of me. But at least when folks look in my casket they'll see me smiling knowing I died with a full belly.

Always Grim

I'm a sports guy. I grew up playing catch with my dad and in turn I now do the same with my daughter. I played sports, covered it as a sports writer and it's still a part of my life. I watch ball games on TV, take my family to games and talk about games with my friends. A lot of who and where I am is directly related to sports.
Nevertheless it's just a game.
I got ground checked Thursday morning when the news broke that a 22-year-old pitcher for the L.A. Angels was killed in a car wreck. A drunk drive ran through a red light, hit his car and killed him. Just a few hours before the kid and played his best game as a Big Leaguer.
This kid was cut down just as he was entering the prime of his life. He'd overcome odds, climbed the mountain and was making his dream come true. It's a helluva thing to see somebody reach the summit only to get knocked off before getting an opportunity to enjoy the view.
I'm not sure what will happen to the drunk diver. I feel assured jail time is in his future. I hope they let him go to the kids funeral . Let him listen to words and the tears. There's no worse sound than a mother crying over the loss of a child. He needs to hear that sound and etch into his memory.
A drunk driver is no better than somebody firing a gun into a crowd. Instead of a revolver he used a vehicle as his weapon of choice. Justice is coming and he'll be judged twice. Once by peers and in the end by God. Choices made last longer than just a lifetime.
I was at a ball game Thursday evening. We had a moment of silence. I said a silent prayer for the kid and his family. Death is a sneaky sonofabitch ... it makes not a sound.