Margaritaville – Jimmy Buffet & Alan Jackson

The stars need to keep aligning…
Any president would have an interest in helping an American city win an Olympic bid. But none has been as closely associated with an Olympic proposal as Obama, and the emerging effort by the White House is unusually pointed in its attempt to wrap the campaign around the president and his appealing image abroad — a strategy veteran Olympics watchers say is paying dividends and could result in an enormous hometown farewell party if Obama wins a second term.
“Without Obama in the White House, I would say there would be no chance whatsoever for the U.S. winning,” said Canadian IOC member Dick Pound. [...]
According to some veteran observers and international participants in the Olympic site selection process, Obama is viewed internationally as the engine driving the Chicago bid.
“Everybody who follows the bids is talking about the Obama factor,” said Robert Livingstone, an expert in the closely watched but opaque Olympic bid business who runs the influential website GamesBids.com. “It’s the biggest issue of the whole campaign.” [...]
In their appeals to the International Olympic Committee, Chicago boosters have leaned heavily on the symbolism of an Obama-led shift away from the globally unpopular policies of the Bush administration — the Chicago 2016 committee originally featured the slogan “Reaching for a Better World,” followed by “let friendship shine.”

The Atlantic has a fantsatic long essay on “The Great Man” study, which has been following a few groups of people from the late 1930s, tracking their lives in countless ways.
It is filled with fascinating nuggets, but here’s one that struck me. ‘Glueck men’ were innercity Boston kids at the time the data collection started, while the ‘Harvard men’ were prestigious Harvard sophomores:
Interestingly, while the Glueck men were 50 percent more likely to become dependent on alcohol than the Harvard men, the ones who did were more than twice as likely to eventually get sober. “The difference has nothing to do with treatment, intelligence, self-care, or having something to lose,” Vaillant told Harvard magazine. “It does have to do with hitting bottom. Someone sleeping under the elevated-train tracks can at some point recognize that he’s an alcoholic, but the guy getting stewed every night at a private club may not.”

Remember that pesky little CA initiative that halted marriage equality on the West Coast?
Two updates:
First, the public is waiting with bated breathe to hear how the CA Supreme Court will decide the challenge to Prop 8’s validity. It could come at any time. The Court is essentially deciding if the Proposition was invalid and, if not, what should happen to the 18,000 couples who were married before the ban?
Second, if the court upholds Prop 8’s validity (as expected), there will likely be a measure of the CA ballot yet again to reverse the Prop 8 decision. Such is the joy of California’s ‘power to the people’ system. Back and forth. Back and forth. Both sides are gearing up for a repeat of the fight. You may not recall, but the last time around many were critical of the pro-gay marriage gaggle for running ads that never actually included gay people in them. This time, things are different. Here are the first two ads of this second go-round. You may be pleased to note that they decided to use actual same-sex families this time…

I’m likely behind the times on this video. Yet, as someone who always hovered around mediocre in my ability to throw a ping pong ball into a cup, this is unbelievably impressive.
What surprised me even more, however, was looking into it and discovering that this video has made Sports Illustrated online and and a few other news stories. Then, I learned that these fellas are all from Olivet Nazarene University, in Bourbonnais, IL. I live about 4 blocks from there. Olivet is very much a dry campus. So that explains it…

An informative post at a nifty blog that may be of service to those of you in the working world. One part of growing up is having friends who begin holding down actual jobs with regular work hours in the middle of the week. Does that mean that you have to give up Wednesday afternoon beer garden trips on particularly beautiful summer evenings? No. Just be prepared for Thursday morning at work…
You had one (or several) too many drinks on a night out with friends, and – at 8 am in the office – you’re really regretting it. Your head is pounding, your mouth feels like sawdust, and you wish your colleagues would tiptoe and whisper when they’re near you. The thought of eating makes your stomach threaten to revolt, so you’ve skipped breakfast.
All you can think about is how you’re going to survive till four o’clock…
I think tip number 10 is important…
10. Don’t Mention The Hangover
It always surprises me how many people will tell colleagues outright “I’m so hungover today”. The last thing you want is for the boss to hear about this … and office gossip can spread fast. If anyone comments on your pallor, just say that you slept badly or that you’re feeling a bit under the weather.

I am still very much on a summer-kick. And yes, I still count my season based on the school year, I could care less about astronomical definitions. Summer starts now, not June 21st.
In that spirit, dueling contry music versions attempting to capture the spirit of the warmth.
Kenny’s starts with “Summertime is finally here, that old ballpark, man, is back in gear, out on 49. Man, I can see the lights.” Charming. Describes an old summer baseball game in his hometown.
What about’s Faith’s intro…“We’ve got barefoot ladies, and tricked out mercedes, and people getting crazy on the boulevard.” Ummm. A little less charming. I don’t know what kind of message this is sending, but I doubt Faith would want her two little girls remembering crazy naked parties in public when thinking about the happy season…
Summertime – Kenny Chesney
Sunshine & Summertime – Faith Hill

True story. On the red line Friday morning, heading down to my Constitutional law final. 8:00am. The train is packed, per usual. I’m squeezed against a mass of random bodies, mostly young Lincoln Park twentysomethings heading down to their first real job after college. My sling messenger bag over my shoulder. Impossible to move an inch.
About 3 minutes into the ride, the girl next to me makes a big deal out of pulling out her iphone. She begins to type something. I can’t help but look. It is her Facebook status that she changes to “People with backpacks shouldn’t be allowed on the train. Makes me want to throw an elbow.” Before she sends it she re-thinks and changes the second sentence to “I’m this close to throwing an elbow”. I was the only one around her with a bag.