They're Dudes, Not Czars

So what is the deal with all of these Czars in Washington? I thought Czars went the way of the dodo in a basement with Nicolas II and his family. You remember, Russian Revolution, Bolsheviks, Lenin... Well, I never learned it in school either, but that's what Wikipedia is for.

I know, I know, Nixon had an energy Czar, G.W. Bush had a bunch of Czars, and Obama has pushed past 30 Czars. I'm trying to be political without being partisan. Regardless, my amateur opinion says the whole Czar thing is out of control.

What bothers me so much? It's not the lack of transparency, background checks or vetting, or the unstipulated salaries or job description. It's simply the name. Czar. It gives me the willys.

Look every high-ranking official or powerful position has some degree of advisors. Usually they are called Secretaries, or collectively a Cabinet or Board, or Executive Vice Presidents, or Assistant Producers, or believe it or not Advisors. I would whole-heartedly accept the title of "Dude" over Czar. Cybersecurity Dude sounds way better the Cybersecurity Czar.

The worst thing is Czar isn't even an offical title. The War Czar is really called the Assistant to the President and Deputy National Security Advisor for Iraq and Afghanistan. Czar is an informal term, which makes Dude that much more of a reality.

Even etymology morons know that Czar (or Tsar) is the Slavic version of Caesar. You learned about the Roman Empire in school right? Germans turned it into Kaiser. Depending on what government it what used in, Czar meant everything from King to Emperor. Which would make Czar a title of nobility, and therefore illegal according to Article 1, Section 9 of the U.S. Constitution:  "No title of nobility shall be granted by the United States." I can call them a Czar, but the Federal Government (or the States, see Section 10) can not.

So let's just call them Dudes. There are no more real Czars. After all, Rome collapsed, Tsarist Russia was overthrown by a Socialist Revolution, and the German Monarchy is defunct. Let's keep it that way. Caesar is for salads, Kaiser is for rolls, and Czars will heretofore be referred to as Dudes.

update

Just want to apologize to my 2 loyal readers for not blogging more often. I have plenty of ideas in my head, but like usual I'm being pulled in too many directions to write anything worthy of posting. I have wrote the preface to a book that Ralph pretty much dared me to write. Although, I think that things like prefaces are best when written after the book itself has been penned. Seems like it might have more insight that way. Oh well, it's a good first draft.

I have many thoughts on universal health care. Seriously, I'm a health care professional with plenty of opinions and insight. But I'll save that for another day when I feel like pulling out the soapbox. Especially since I can't do anything about making/changing policy so I will basically just be complaining and whining about it.

In the meantime work on the backyard pump track has finally started. I don't have any pics to post yet, but my Dad does have another crash video of Matt that I'd love to put up here. I will, however, post this video. It's been one of my inspirations as I dreamed of turning the backyard into a sea of dirt mounds...



There are a ton more on YouTube, but I love the message at the end and the music makes me think of Adam Sandler. So if you're looking for me, and I'm not working, chances are I'm in the back digging.

I Learned It From Watching You...

The other day Grant was recounting his Sunday School experience to me. We sang this song, played this game, made this craft, etc. Then he told me something I'll never forget. A teacher asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up. At first he was undecided between a fireman or a policeman. Who could blame him? Every 4 year old wants to be a civil servant. I didn't get over such aspirations until I was 24. After thinking about his career conundrum, Grant said that he rather be a daddy so he could be like me.

As a man it's easy to qualify my self-worth in direct proportion to my net-worth, earning potential, degrees, and career path. Likewise it's easy to trample myself for lacking in any of those areas.

As a father, I'm called to a greater purpose that transcends selfish goals and aspirations. The legacy I build through my children will trump anything I could ever accomplish at work.

I don't remember being 4 years old and I'm not sure if Grant will either. I grew up the son of a machinist and my Dad was the strongest, smartest, fastest guy in the world. I knew that he loved me and would do anything for me. That was sufficient for me. Any awareness I had of socioeconomic status was shelved by my father's love and the security I felt in it. I'm sure that at times through the drone of milling machines and the haze of cutting oil he lamented missed opportunities and pined for something better. It's a natural male reaction, but there are more important things. He realized it. He couldn't be the father he is without that knowledge.

Judging by Grant's Sunday School summation, I've stumbled on the same revelation. Although, I'm still working on it. I still weigh myself on the balance of my accomplishments vs. my potential. Slowly I'm letting things go and focusing on making my family my greatest accomplishment.

Brakes Can Be Bad...

In racing there is a mantra that goes: Slower is faster. I think this still applies here except slower will sometimes have you on your face faster. Thanks Matt for reminding us why the rest of us didn't want to ride off of a 5-foot ledge. You get bonus points for splattering yourself on someone else's bike. Sorry for the poor resolution, I shot this on my phone. Next time I'll be in a better position to capture all of the action. The best part is, I know there will be a next time...

Landing on your face (Matt) or splitting your elbow open (Ralph) isn't exactly fun. But with enough people and bikes you can have a lot of fun doing it.

I'm off this Friday and next Tuesday if anyone is interested...

When There Is No Lesser Evil

I hate the Yankees, but not as much as I hate the Red Sox.  This might explain why it was so hard to watch them play today.  It was an awesome game, the kind of game you wish you watched every time you watch baseball.  If two other teams were playing I might not have given in to the afternoon nap.  Deep down inside I wanted them both to lose.  I wished Bud Selig would lean over the rail of his box seat and declare the game over.  No winners, only losers, and no asterisks.  I'm not bitter just because I'm an Angel's fan.  Well, maybe a little bit.  Sure, I'm sick of being owned by Boston every October and the Yankees using dollar signs to pull away future hall of fame talent.  

What really bugs me about New York and Boston is their fans.  Or at least the fans in Orange County that go to Angel Stadium.  I've met Red Sox fans that hadn't seen Boston until Netflix sent them The Departed and Fever Pitch.  When Edison lost the naming sponsor to Angel Stadium they should have renamed it Fenway West.  At least the Yankee fans wear blue so you can sort them out from a distance.  If you want to be a Yankee fan that's fine.  My Grandfather was from Yonkers.  I can understand the loose connections that make people cheer for teams on the other coast.  But just because you're a Yankee fan doesn't mean you need to be an a-hole.  This is Orange County.  We're supposed to be stuck up, not belligerent.

Look, I've been an Angel fan since I was 6.  I remember the orange seats, the football press box, and when the Budweiser Patio was called WallyWorld.  So I have tons of credibility to think that I'm better than any other fan that walks into Angel Stadium.  Plus, it's my blog and I'll cry if I want to.