Truth in Avettising
Victor and I were tackling a fairly difficult, 300-piece jigsaw puzzle last night. We had the Avett Brothers playing on iTunes and one of us was enjoying a pale ale. The conversation had hit a lull and we both found ourselves engrossed in the challenge when the song Paronia in B Major cued up and one of the Avetts, I’m not sure which, sang this line:

"You can’t make everybody happy all of the time"

Without looking up, Victor broke the silence and said, "It’s true, daddy, you can’t make everybody happy."

The sentiment isn’t an original one, but it certainly qualifies as a truism. And even though the notion is tinged with cynicism, it’s a lesson that a young kid like Victor needs to know. That he picked up on it already, on his own, speaks well for his ability to deal with what life has in store for him.

The Pipes, the Pipes
Sometime around high school, I made the decision to change my name. I would no longer be Danny, the boy of Irish wonder, but Dan, the mature up-and-comer. A drummer and quiet by nature, I didn’t like being associated with the wise-cracking bassist of the Partridge Family.

My new name caught on fairly well, although family and certain friends from my St. Al’s days continued to call me Danny. It never bothered me when they did, or do.

I bring this up now because today most of the people who know me, or know of me, know me as Dan. That’s why I was quite surprised to get a Google Alert today (yes, it’s slightly egotistical to set up a Google Alert for your own name, I’m not free from vanity) for Danny Naumovich. It was a ZoomInfo page, of which I know nothing about, except that it linked to some of my blog posts and SJ-R columns, where I’m known exclusively as Dan. Not much of a mystery, as these things go, but still I wonder.

Madonna is a shrewd political observer . . . or a dumb chick from Detroit
When ignorant or manipulative folks on the right attempt to link Barack Obama to Islamic terrorism, there’s no shortage of people on the left at the ready to rightly point out the ridiculousness of the comparison. Will they also be willing to point out the ridiculousness of comparing John McCain to Adolph Hitler and Robert Mugabe, as some marginally talented and freakishly-toned pop stars have attempted to do? Or do you talk yourself into finding a hint of truth in the preposterous when it applies to someone you’re obligated-by-ideology to hate?

Where the Action Is
Although I’m officially, and genuinely, undecided, I did want to venture downtown on Saturday for the big happening. I think it’s still fairly safe to call Obama the presumptive next president, so there’s no doubt that history was being made, but I also wanted to witness the spectacle. The problem was that my wife had a catering gig and whatever I decided to do, four kids would be in tow. This presented certain logistical problems in that they couldn’t have cared less who was in town to announce what.

I had my own concerns about bringing them to such an event. What if something happened, real or perceived, that caused the Secret Service to react? And what if the throng, sensing the danger, began to panic? Could I guarantee the safety of four young charges in stampede-like conditions?

Saturday evening, I was sitting on the porch when my neighbor the cop came home. He said that organizers didn’t plan well for the heat and the multitudes and that he spent the day pulling spent people out of the masses into safety. I’m glad that we decided to go to the soon-to-be-even-better water park instead.

Baseball needs a good editor
I know it will never happen, but if they would only chop a month off both the beginning and end of the schedule, baseball just might be tolerable. As it is, it’s like watching a halfway-decent movie that drags on for over three hours. And it plays everyday from spring through fall. Thank heavens football is about to arrive.