An accident spawns a column

The timestamp on the column read 7:22 p.m., which is when the post was initiated. Four hours later, the screen was as white as a puffy cumulus cloud on an early spring day.

Writer's block -- something every journalist experiences. At least, I like to think so.

First of all, I thought about things I wanted, which didn't lead to much. Second, I thought about trying to write something funny about some people I disdain, which didn't lead to much.

Suddenly, a column idea was conceived.

"Oh crap!" THUD!

A fall from my bed caused my foot to impact the bottom-right corner of the screen, rendering the screen of my four-and-a-half-month-old laptop useless. The $550 necessity is nothing more than a paper weight now.

The formation of the distorted screen almost looks like the side of a snow-packed mountain. If only I were that lucky.

Is that the Abominable Snowman?

In a state of shock, thoughts began racing through my head.

"How am I going to finish my homework? How much is it going to cost to fix this? Should I just get a new one? How the hell did I fall off the bed?"

Speaking to the latter, it was just one of those everyday accidents that are purely inexplicable.

However, those were all afterthoughts. The accident birthed this column.

The cracked, hopeless screen, starting me in the face, screamed "column." Everything from the mishap itself to the coincidental screen formation to the newest addition to the Christmas list just made for a writing opportunity.

A new laptop immediately jumps to the top of my Christmas list. I keep telling people not to get my anything for Jesus' birthday, but I might change my tune now.

Either that, or the current one needs to be repaired. Extended warranties are something I usually laugh at, but I'm desperately wishing I had purchased one nearly five months ago. Taking into account the time, cost and effort, it might just be better to purchase a new one. At least there should be some good deals during the holiday season.

As a journalism student, a laptop is a necessity, rather than a luxury -- which could be said for pretty much any student these days. I use my computer every single day, as all journalists do. Now I'm going to have to improvise, especially with finals coming up.

In the end, this was a blessing in disguise. Sitting here with a blank screen not knowing what the hell I was going to write about could have kept me up for hours.

Who am I kidding? I'd rather be sitting here with no ideas and usable laptop screen. At least that wouldn't cost me at least $500.

But, everything happens for a reason. I'm sure said reason will present itself in some fashion soon.

So Santa, if you read this, you know what to get me. I like to think I've been a good boy this year. I guess we'll see in a few weeks.

Merry Christmas to all and to all, chip in for a new lappy for this journalism student.

I'm thankful for Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. The food, the family, the football, the fun -- everything about it just appeals to me.

It probably has to do with the fact it's also winter time, which is also my favorite time of year.

In the past, a trip to Southern California was the norm. The trek would begin on late Tuesday night or early Wednesday morning. The six-hour trip to La La land was about the only drag.

My mom, her now ex-husband and my brother made the semi-annual journey to Brentwood, Calif. Yes, the same Brentwood where Orenthal James Simpson didn't murder Nicole Brown Simpson and Ronald Goldman. But that's a whole other issue.

My mom's ex-husband's family is, for lack of a better phrase, filthy rich. The three-story, $1.5 million estate (at the time) was the gathering place for well over 100 family members on turkey day. The feast was plentiful and exorbitant, as would be expected with so many guests.

As an adolescent and young teenager during the majority of these trips, some of the highlights included being able to see my cousins and other family members who came from out of town. We had a plethora of things to do, including cops & robbers, tag, hide-n-go-seek, video games and once, swimming, were on the menu.

Another attractive part of the trip was just to marvel at the size of the house. I have not been in a house so enormous since and won't be surprised if I never will again.

Since my mom divorced her ex, Thanksgiving hasn't been like that. However, it has been better than any of that material stuff.

The less-extravagant Thanksgivings have made the family get-togethers feel that much closer and special. I know there will always be a turkey, mashed potatoes, gravy, Stove Top Stuffing -- the only stuffing anyone should ever eat -- Martinelli's Apple Cider, football -- even if it is a bunch of crappy games -- and most importantly, the people I love most in this world.

The late-afternoon nap that soon follows the midday feast was also something that was highly anticipated. With a tummy full of turkey and fixings, a short nap usually recharges the batteries for a mid-evening second round with the leftovers.

Speaking of leftovers, what would Thanksgiving be like without the next day. I could care less about the crazed shoppers looking to get the best deal on a plasma television. I'm talking about hot turkey sandwiches.

One piece of bread, cold turkey leftover from the day before, hot gravy -- it doesn't get any better than that. So simple, yet so satisfying.

However, the things I enjoy most are the things I am most thankful for: A loving family, an outstanding girlfriend, my health and a roof over my head. That should be the foundation for any successful and happy Thanksgiving. What more could anyone ask for?

Maybe another slice of turkey and a half-way decent football game. The turkey is doable, but I'm not holding my breath on the game.

Columnist Profile: Jon Weisman

Every true Los Angeles Dodger fan's dream is to some how, some way meet or have a chance to meet a living legend -- Vincent Edward Scully. Lord knows it's my dream.

Not only did Jon Weisman meet the man affectionately known as "Vin," he had the privilege of writing a column about Scully on Sports Illustrated's Web site just over two years ago.

Weisman, 41, was kind enough to reply to some e-mail questions.

When asked about his favorite piece, he recalls the afore mentioned Scully column.

"I do enjoy thinking about a column I wrote about Vin Scully for SI.com, when I compared his call of a game in the late 1960s to his call of a game 40 years later," Weisman said.

Weisman (left) writes a blog, Dodger Thoughts, for the Los Angeles Times. However, it did not start as a Times' blog.

"I was just doing my own thing," Weisman said. "After a few years, when the site showed some real growth, it didn't seem quite so unlikely. But it wasn't my be-all, end-all ambition."

Dodger Thoughts, started by Weisman in June 2002, was picked up by the Times in February.

Weisman is no rookie when it comes to journalism, though.

"I sold my first story to the Los Angeles Times in 1986, while in college," Weisman said. "I did a detour into screenwriting for much of the 1990s, but I've done a lot of journalism work this decade."

Weisman, who attended Stanford University and Georgetown University, earned his bachelor's degree in American Studies in 1986 and master's degree in 1993, respectively.

Despite his passion for Dodger baseball, Weisman has been an associate features editor with Variety since September 2006 after doing freelance work for the publication for the previous three years.

However, he said he plans to stay in journalism for awhile, especially a paying job.

"My day job is as a features editor with Variety. I figure to remain in the business for some time; I haven't planned any major career shifts of anything."

Like many journalists, Weisman got started early.

"The very, very first thing, I believe, was I was asked to write an article for my high school newspaper on a production of a live Doonesbury show I was attending," he said. "I enjoyed doing that and looked for more assignments, and was committed to the newspaper for the rest of my high school and college life. I decided fairly early on in college that I wanted to be a sportswriter after graduation."

Weisman is the father of three children -- a daughter and two sons -- and is married.

As a life-long Dodger fan, like Jon, I am jealous and envious of his accomplishments. I hope to be able to lay claim to some similar accomplishments in my journalism career.

His most memorable moment, meeting Vin, was "unforgettable."

"It wasn't my best interview, but it was the one that had the most meaning for me."

I'm sure Weisman isn't the first, nor will he be the last journalist to utter a such a phrase.

If I may editorialize for a moment: Weisman is my favorite person to read when it comes to anything Dodgers. His insight, analysis and open-mindedness are a welcome change from his doppelganger L.A. Times' brethren.

Just look at this piece and you'll get my point.

California, don't fall prey to the Phoenix

California's budget situation is quite bad. But is it bad enough to actually consider selling off the State University system to a private institution, such as the University of Phoenix?

Unlikely.

However, the question, posed by Professor William Tierney of Southern California University in a recent column, merits at least some consideration.

While the sale -- approximately $2.3 billion in Tierney's estimation -- would likely help California right now, it would be a mistake to expect this to be a good long-term solution.

The CSU system is comprised of 23 schools up and down the Golden State and houses nearly 450,00 students. The University of Phoenix is home to the roughly 225,000 full-time students nationwide.

California State, Universities

Despite a sale not being in the best interest of the state, would it be all bad for the students?

Education is being hit hard by the budget crisis, and the CSU is not immune to this. The students are suffering through higher fees and less education -- not exactly a good combination for success and happiness.

With the acquisition, the private-profit higher learning institution would not have to worry about the money woes of a particular state, such as California. It would be able to determine fees and likely keep said fees consistent. That would be a draw for students, knowing what the fixed cost would be to go to school.

University of Phoenix tuition fees are about $12,000 a year, compared to the $4,000-plus I am paying for tuition this year at Sacramento State.

A Phoenix-run CSU would likely cost more than current CSU fees, but not as much as the current Phoenix tuition. Besides, who's to say the CSU fees would not increase in the coming years, thanks to the poor economy and budget predicament?

The government, not just in California, is not doing its job. Government has always said education is important, yet even basic cuts are being made from community colleges.

For instance, enrollment at San Joaquin Delta College is being capped at 16,000 students. Also, some general education classes that are to be expected at a junior college are being cut. With class cuts come larger class sizes, which decreases the quality of education.

If these cuts are being made at community college, you better believe it's coming to the university system. And the CSU will be first targeted first.

Some would argue that the cuts and changes are already here. It is likely to get worse.

Still, despite all the negatives with the CSU right now, it is still better than a Phoenix-run State University system. Better for students and better for the state.

A transaction like this has little chance of happening because there are just too many moving pieces and would likely be a logistical nightmare. California must realize that it is not in its best interest to move an asset like the CSU for short-term help.

Things look bad now and probably won't get better in the near future, but things will ultimately get better. When that day comes, California will be extremely pleased, and fortunate, to still own the State University system.

I'm perfectly fine being a Hornet. Let the Phoenixes be Phoenixes.

National Health Care? Don't hold your breath

National Health Care will never get passed.

At least, that's the way it seems.

The Senate Finance Committee voted down two amendments for a government-run public health care option on Sept. 29.

The Democrats have a super majority and still failed to pass the reform? Beautiful.

There is absolutely no doubt that this country needs to provide a public option for the close to 50 million people without it. At this rate, however, we may never see a public option put into place.

Many young people are insured through his/her parents' coverage until a certain age. Others get insurance through his/her job -- usually full-time employment.

But what about those who do not have a full-time job or are too old to be on their parents' plan? Why should folks in that age group be forced to either pay exorbitant fees for insurance (if he/she can even qualify) or go without it?

They shouldn't. Health care isn't a right, but it is certainly important enough for it to be available at reasonable rates and under reasonable circumstances to every single U.S. citizen.

The United States has the 19th-worst preventable death rate in the world, according to the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development.

Nineteenth? Are you kidding me?

The nation that spends the most money on health care is only No. 19 in the world at preventing deaths? Something doesn't add up. It shows the inherent flaw in the health care system, as not everyone has health insurance.

Let's face it: Many Americans are not in top physical condition. Well, to get health care on your own, that's pretty much what a person must be -- an Adonis, if you will -- otherwise, you're a "risk." Insurance companies don't like dealing with "risks."

A New York Times poll revealed that 65 percent of Americans are in favor of a public option, which begs the question, "Why hasn't anything been passed yet?"

Because it all comes down to money. Seemingly everything in life comes down to money. The insurance companies are more concerned with making a profit that the well being of its members. America is the land of opportunity and capitalism, but this goes too far.

It goes too far because a monetary value cannot be placed on a human life. Life is much more important than profits.

Think about this: It is a law that drivers must have car insurance; why isn't it a law to have health insurance? Oh, that's right: We value our cars more than our lives, apparently.

And no, Righties, this isn't Socialism. This is trying to do what's best for the citizens of this country.

Agendas, agendas, agendas. It's about agendas! Politicians have agendas, and this subject is no different. If a politician doesn't get what he/she wants in the plan, he/she isn't willing to compromise. This isn't party-specific, either. Politicians on both sides are guilty of this.

So here we are, months into the health care "debate," and we are seemingly no closer to any type of government-run public option for health care.

Here's a message for the elected officials: Pull your heads out of your collective asses and get something done. The plan isn't going to be perfect. Make some concessions and come to an agreement so that there won't be nearly 50 million Americans without health coverage.

Do what's best for us, not for you.

Life Experience: Paintballing, part deux

The tension and anticipation built. It had been seven-plus years since the last undertaking. The sun blazed with an unforgiving heat. The attire only exacerbated the warmth.

Yet, the anxiousness and eagerness grew with each passing minute.

And then it happened.

"The game will start in five seconds!," exclaimed the referee.

My heart was pounding. My mask was fogging up from excessive heavy breathing. Sweat poured down my face like a waterfall because of the heat and intensity of the situation.

And then it happened.

"Go! Go! Go!," the referee yelled.

Each round is comprised of two teams. The number of players on each side is determined by how many souls are brave enough to participate in the skirmish -- usually 10 players on each side.

The assault was predetermined: Push up the right side of the dirt-laden field while solid, round, red and blue projectiles traveled at 285 feet per second, splattering on the surroundings. With only mounds of dirt, old tires and wooden electrical spools to hide behind in hopes of avoiding the round game-ending shots; the anxiety was at an all-time high.

By this time, the afore mentioned strategy for success had long-since been abandoned, which was not totally unexpected. It was time to improvise.

As the other participants held their own, the situation called for skulking up the left in hopes of flanking the opposing team. After surviving the initial onslaught and making it to the position of choice unmolested, things were falling into place.

I looked down the barrel of the gun and had an unsuspecting player in my sight.

And then it happened.

BAM! Like Emeril Lagasse bombarding a gumbo dish with garlic, a plethora of paint balls hailed upon on my left elbow.

The shock of the shots, mixed with the sting was perplexing.

I had just been tagged by a teenage girl.

Despite the elimination, the anxiety quickly turned to excitement and eagerness to start the next round, as revenge was definitely the on the menu for the next round. Needless to say, the revenge was oh so sweet -- sweet like a cream cheese frosting on a fresh carrot cake, which, incidentally was the birthday cake.

Still, I will forever have to live with the fact that I was eliminated by a teenager. But, that wouldn't hamper the rest of the day. That would be foolish.

The day was to celebrate a friend's birthday. A friend who had been through a lot of family issues recently. It was a nice escape for him and a great time for the rest of us.

Paintball is a physical activity. However, it isn't the best activity for those who are, shall we say, "less-than physically fit," such as myself.

The aches and pains were prevalent from the afternoon of intense, brute toil. The next morning, on the other hand, is when the soreness made its presence known.

Getting out of bed was a chore in itself. The bruises throbbed from the multiple impacts. The all-day struggle to move after the fun, yet strenuous day, was expected. Yet, it actually felt good, in a weird way. It felt like something had been accomplished -- a good time with family and friends while doing something out of the norm.

Monday reared its ugly head everything returned to normal. Maybe it'll be another seven years before paintballing is the outing of choice.

And then it happened.

"Paintball next weekend. You in?," a text from a friend read.

In the words of the robot cop from Futurama:











Ahh yeah!

Life Experience: Paintballing

The tension and anticipation built. It had been seven-plus years since the last undertaking. The sun blazed with an unforgiving heat. The attire only exacerbated the warmth.

Yet, the anxiousness and eagerness grew with each passing minute.

And then it happened.

"The game will start in five seconds!," exclaimed the referee.

My heart was pounding. My mask was fogging up from excessive heavy breathing. Sweat poured down my face like a waterfall because of the heat and intensity of the situation.

And then it happened.

"Go! Go! Go!," the referee yelled.

The round is comprised of two teams. The number of players on each side is determined by how many souls are brave enough to participate in the skirmish -- usually around 10 players on each side.

The assault was predetermined: Push up the right side of the dirt-laden field while solid, round, red and blue projectiles traveled at 285 feet per second, splattering on the surroundings. With only mounds of dirt, old tires and wooden electrical spools to hide behind in hopes of avoiding the round game-ending shots; the anxiety was at an all-time high.

By this time, the afore mentioned strategy for success had long-since been abandoned, which was not totally unexpected. It was time to improvise.

As the other participants held their own, the situation called for skulking up the left in hopes of flanking the opposing team. After surviving the initial onslaught and making it to the position of choice unmolested, things were falling into place.

I looked down the barrel of the gun and had an unsuspecting player in my sight.

And then it happened.

BAM! Like Emeril Lagasse bombarding a gumbo dish with garlic, a plethora of paint balls hailed upon on my left elbow.

The shock of the shots, mixed with the sting was perplexing.

I had just been tagged by a teenage girl.

Despite the elimination, the anxiety quickly turned to excitement and eagerness to start the next round, as revenge was definitely the on the menu for the next round. Needless to say, the revenge was oh so sweet -- sweet like a cream cheese frosting on a fresh carrot cake, which, incidentally was the birthday cake.

Still, I will forever have to live with the fact that I was eliminated by a teenager. But, that wouldn't hamper the rest of the day. That would be foolish.

The day was to celebrate a friend's birthday. A friend who had been through a lot of family issues recently. It was a nice escape for him and a great time for the rest of us.

Paintball is a physical activity. However, it isn't the best activity for those who are, shall we say, "less-than physically fit," like myself.

The aches and pains were prevalent from the afternoon of intense, brute toil. The next morning, on the other hand, is when the soreness made its presence known.

Getting out of bed was a chore in itself. The bruises throbbed from the multiple impacts. The all-day struggle to move after the fun, yet strenuous day was expected. Yet, it actually felt good, in a weird way. It felt like something had been accomplished. I had a good time with family and friends and did something out of the norm.

Monday reared its ugly head everything returned to normal. Maybe it'll be another seven years before paintballing is the outing of choice.

And then it happened.

"Paintball next weekend. You in?," a text from a friend read.

In the words of the robot cop from Futurama:











Ahh yeah!

Cutler, the 'Franchise'

What makes a franchise quarterback? First of all, he has to have talent. Secondly, maturity is a must. Finally, the "It" factor, an intangible which all franchise quarterbacks seem to possess.

One out of three isn't going to cut it for Jay Cutler.

He is not a franchise quarterback.

Cutler, acquired from the Denver Broncos by the Chicago Bears on April 3, was supposed to be the franchise quarterback the Bears have lacked since, well, ever. If his first regular season game the savior is any indication of his franchiseness, then Bears' fans are in for a long season.

Cutler's Chicago debut was inauspicious, to say the least: 17-36, 277 yards, one touchdown and a career-high four interceptions.

His 43.2 QB rating was actually quite generous, as his play was atrocious for much of the evening.

But let's go back to why Denver traded the brat.

It all started after the Broncos hired Josh McDaniels, former New England Patriots' offensive coordinator. McDaniels tried to acquire QB Matt Cassel, who enjoyed a career year in his system in 2008. Upon hearing the rumors, Cutler threw a toddler-sized tantrum and demanded to be traded.

After weeks of posturing and attempts to make up by both the Broncos and Cutler, Denver finally gave in and traded the crybaby.

Prior to the saga, Cutler had endeared himself to Denver fans as the heir apparent to John Elway's throne, which has been a revolving door since Elway retired.

After the opening of the 2009 NFL season, Denver fans must be elated after witnessing Baby Jay's performance on national TV.

Cutler threw three first-half interceptions, resulting in just seven Packer points.

He finally seemed to be on track in the second half after throwing a 36-yard TD pass to wide receiver Devin Hester. But it wouldn't last.

The Packers eventually took the lead with just over a minute to play in the game. This was Cutler's chance to prove to everyone that he was worth the price Chicago paid and would show Denver what a mistake it made in trading him.

Cutler, the prima donna, failed miserably.

On the first play of the final drive, Cutler threw a horrifically bad pass that was picked off by Green Bay cornerback Al Harris, clinching the victory for the Cheeseheads.

One play, one interception, one embarrassing loss.

Cutler walk's off the field after throwing the game away.

Kyle Orton, on the other hand, was not so unfortunate or embarrassing.

The QB Chicago sent to Denver in exchange for Cutler went 17-28, 243 yards and one of the most miraculous TDs you will ever see -- with a little help from Lady Luck.

After Cincinnati scored a TD to take the lead with 38 seconds to go, Orton threw a pass that would give Bronco fans a heart attack, followed by pure joy and adulation. The pass was tipped in the air only to be snagged by WR Brandon Stokely, who ran 87 yards for a game-winning touchdown.

As the old adage goes, "It's better to be lucky than good." Orton was definitely lucky on this day.

Cutler, on the other hand, was neither lucky nor good -- a bad recipe for winning football games.

Orton may not be the definition of a franchise QB, but Denver is 1-0 while Chicago is 0-1.

Will Cutler have better games? Of course he will. Will he ever evolve into the franchise QB Da Bears so desperately need? Don't count on "It."

Da Bears!

Students, faculty passionate at fee increase rally

A 95-degree day is enough to get anyone worked up.

A 95-degree day while rallying about rising student fees and professor pay cuts is enough to get everyone who attended worked up.

Roughly 200 students, professors and faculty showed up to protest the rising fees and slashing salaries outside the library at Sacramento State University.

The rally opened with a couple of protest songs from teachers and faculty signing protests songs as if they were protesting the Vietnam War. It is not quite that serious, but it is an issue worth fighting for, nonetheless.

This rally had a little bit of everything: TV cameras, singing, signs and slogans. The particular slogan of choice was, "They say cut back, we say FIGHT BACK!"

The California State University system raised fees twice from the end of the spring 2009 semester to the beginning of the 2009 fall semester – a span of three months. Tuition for the fall semester is $511 more than last semester. Not only did tuition increase, the quantity of education decreased – by about 10 percent.

Because of the state's money epidemic, teachers and faculty are forced into taking furlough days. Incidentally, furlough will be the buzz word of the year throughout the CSU system, if not the rest of the impoverished state. While some students may invite the extra days of no class, some are peeved about not getting enough instruction.

Paying more and getting less – not exactly an uncommon occurrence. One might expect that from a fancy-shmancy restaurant, but not something as important and essential as higher education.

It's no secret that California is broke, despite having the 10^th-largest economy in the world, according to the CIA World Factbook. In fact, California once had the fifth-largest economy in the world. State employees are taking furlough days as well, but why does it have to extend the education system?

Students pay good money for a college education and the rising fees make it more difficult for said students to get an education. With higher tuition fees come more student loans which results in more money out of our pockets in the long run.

But hey, no one cares about education in this country, right? Our education system is top notch compared to countries like Japan, the United Kingdom and Finland (which one of these is not like the other?). Or not.

The only way students and faculty can make a difference is by holding these rallies and the soon-to-come marches on the Capitol.

Is taxing oil companies, which are seeing record profits and have been for quite some time, the answer? Perhaps. It might not be feasible, but we all know the companies are not hurting for money. This was an option that was echoed many times throughout the rally.

Much like Mother Nature did to the attendees on that early September day, it is time to turn up the heat on the legislature and compel it to take money from another institution. Education is far too important to have multiple increases and to be furloughed.

Fight back!