If you read this blog entry or this one or this one, then you are well aware of my disdain for Charlie Weis, the FORMER head coach of the Notre Dame Fighting Irish. It wasn’t an immediate contempt I had for the man. No, it slowly grew from a nonexistent speck in the first year to the current state of fiery bright pyre. Oh, how I grew to loathe that man. Not as a human being, but as a mediocre coach who somehow conned the fine institution of Notre Dame into almost immediately giving him a hefty, long-term contract. Millions of dollars were placed at his feet without his having to prove that he had the talent or finesse to coach a college team that is expected every year to be a viable contender for the national championship. It took the university a bit longer to show Mr. Weis the door than I would have liked. But, better late than ten years later.

And before you shed any tears for the newest addition to the already high number of unemployed, keep in mind that former coach Weis may be walking away with a fresh $18 million lining his squidgy Docker pants pockets. He ain’t hurtin’ for foldin’ money.

Not sure who the next coach of ND will be, but I do hope that he brings a lot more humility and a lot more promises kept than old coach Weis did.

This morning I saw the photo below on the Huffington Post. It was posted with an entire group of pictures of Thanksgiving turkey pardons given by the current and past presidents. This one really caught my attention because of the caption that came along with it:

President Bill Clinton looks over a turkey named Jerry after granting the bird a Thanksgiving pardon November 22, 2000 in the Rose Garden of the White House.

That turkey’s got a name! He exists. He’s not just some random bird.

I looked into Jerry’s eyes and I found myself suddenly wondering, what becomes of these birds after they’ve cheated death? Do they go on to lead long, productive lives after being pardoned for non-criminal activities? The only crime being that they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I decided I needed some closure on the fate of Jerry. So, I came up with a few of my own Jerry endings.

President Bill Clinton looks over a turkey named Jerry after granting the bird a Thanksgiving pardon November 22, 2000 in the Rose Garden of the White House. Jerry is now twice divorced with six kids and works at a lime plant in Dubuque. He has a peptic ulcer, smokes two packs a day and suffers from acute cirrhosis due to alcoholism. When asked how he felt about that wonderful November day when President Clinton granted him his reprieve, Jerry responded, “Gobble”. A translator later revealed that Jerry had actually stated, “He would have been doing me a favor.”

President Bill Clinton looks over a turkey named Jerry after granting the bird a Thanksgiving pardon November 22, 2000 in the Rose Garden of the White House. Jerry now runs a bed and breakfast near Montpelier with his life partner, Cecil. In his spare time, he likes to make decorative shoehorns.

President Bill Clinton looks over a turkey named Jerry after granting the bird a Thanksgiving pardon November 22, 2000 in the Rose Garden of the White House. The years after Jerry’s pardon were not kind to the once fine looking fowl. In April of 2001, Jerry was implicated in a college basketball points-shaving scandal at the University of Wisconsin. He was later acquitted of all charges when it was revealed by the U of W players that they cheated of their own volition and actually never understood a word Jerry was saying. Two years later, Jerry was arrested in Fresno for selling poultry porn out of the back of his Monte Carlo. The inside of jail cells became a familiar home for Jerry, as a string of petty crimes and indiscretions lined his troubled past like so many footprints. It appears the pressure of living on the outside eventually became too much for the bird; for in December of last year, Jerry was found dangling from a rope in a old, rundown halfway house on the wrong side of Cleveland. On the wooden beam above the turkey’s lifeless body, one could clearly see the crudely etched words, “Jerry Was Here.”

Soupy Sales died a few weeks ago and I would be remiss if I didn’t post something about him here. A lot of people remember the comedian and host of the Lunch with Soupy Sales show, but Sales was also a jazz buff. Frequently, he invited the top jazz musicians of the day to be on his nighttime show, Soupy’s On. In fact, the only known video recording of the famous and highly influential trumpeter Clifford Brown came from Soupy’s On. Not many highly visible champions of jazz around these days. So, hat’s off and a fond farewell to Mr. Sales.

I’m sure I will start to blog again soon. But with the combination of work, the radio station and the podcast, time permits very little for my periodic ramblings. So, until I find more expansive spaces of time to hunker down at the keyboard and click-clack to my heart’s content, I will have to identify and make constructive use of the few moments of the day that haven’t been snatched away by more pressing responsibilities. And in those few moments, I will try to post the little, pretty things that make me smile.

My favorite song at this very moment is Between Sheets by Imogen Heap. It is on her Ellipse album which came out in August of this year. Musically and lyrically adept. And very lovely to boot.

Tracing patterns on the maze of your back
Softly, softly the goose bumps like that.