I’ve got nothing against trying out new technology.
After all, I own a laptop that works. I’ve used Windows Vista for years now and once spent $350 for Microsoft Office. I even maintain an active AOL e-mail account, for the bargain price of just $24.95 per month. Trying finding a great deal like that on your own — bet you can’t.
A few years ago, I signed up at Twitter and then launched my very own Facebook page. My blind leap into the murky jungle of social media has somehow led to multiple deeply personal and bitter political arguments every week and a half dozen marriage proposals from The Philippines. It’s also exposed me to 27,692 cute cat videos, all of which I’ve watched and about half of which have been shared with my dwindling circle of “friends.” I guess you could say, I’m pretty tech savvy.
Like everyone else in the uncivilized world, I’ve become totally dependent upon my cell phone for all the latest news and information about the Kardashians and Bruce Jenner’s sex-change operation. Over the years, I’ve listened to an iPod, bought and iPad, and done two different versions of the iPhone. Whenever my calls drop, I even become iRate.
But I have to draw the line somewhere and my last battalion of defense – if not my manhood — is most certainly my wrist. How else would someone ward off an attacker? I look at my wrist the same way Russia has always looked at Poland. That’s a buffer zone just in case some serious shit happens.
[Writer’s Note: See more photos of “The Lakes, Nevada” below]
When people ask me where I live — I answer “Las Vegas.”
However, when asked this same question by someone local, that calls for a more specific answer. My reply is that I live in a section of Las Vegas called “The Lakes.”
The Lakes seems like an odd name for a residential community anchored in the middle of the desert. I can’t blame people when they get confused, hearing about “lakes.” Some misunderstand the reference and think I live way out near Lake Mead. Others associate the name with “Lake Las Vegas” — a ritzy golf course development with million-dollar homes located on the eastern edge of the city.
Actually, The Lakes is located right smack in the middle of town on the west side. It’s about seven miles away from the Las Vegas Strip (a.k.a. Las Vegas Blvd.). It’s bordered by Durango to the east, and Hualapai to the west — then Sahara to the north, and Desert Inn to the south. If you keep on heading west from where I live, the next development towards the mountains is called Summerlin, which most people have at least heard of. Not so, with The Lakes.
The Lakes has an interesting history. In today’s column, I’m going to tell you more about The Lakes and convey its uniqueness as a desert paradise, and a really nice place to live.
Remembering the Knockout Punch: Did Heavyweight Boxing Suffer It’s Fatal Knockout Punch 25 Years Ago?
Has any sport’s popularity plunged so deeply within such a short period of time as boxing?
Quick — name the current heavyweight boxing world champion. I’ll bet you can’t. Don’t worry about it — I didn’t know the reigning champ’s name either, so I had to look it up. Actually, there are three reigning champions and four world titles in boxing’s global clusterfuck — Wladimir Klitschko (who owns the IBF and WBO titles) , Rusian Chagaev (WBA champion), and Deontay Wilder (WBC champion).
Just a generation or two ago, boxing was arguably the most popular sport in the world aside from soccer (what non-Americans regard as “football”). When Muhammad Ali fought a title bout somewhere, anywhere, it wasn’t just a sporting event. The match became a social and cultural spectacle, an epic clash of personalities in which even elite members of the media were among the combatants — be they Howard Cosell, Hunter S. Thompson, George Plimpton, or Norman Mailer. A heavyweight championship fight was an international attraction, sometimes carrying with it momentous social and political ramifications. Recall the brutal dictatorial regimes of Sese Mobutu (Zaire) and Ferdinand Marcos (The Philippines), just two of the beneficiaries who hosted what became widely considered as the greatest fights of all time.
Scattershooting, while wondering whatever happened to Danny Villanueva.
He was the placekicker for the Dallas Cowboys during the mid-1960s. A lot is made of African-Americans and civil rights advances during that era. But Villanueva broke down some serious racial barriers of his own. He became the first notable Mexican-American professional football player, and was the game’s only Latino during that era, either in the NFL or AFL. His final pro game was the famous “Ice Bowl,” when Green Bay defeated Dallas in the 1967 NFL Championship game, which was played in sub-zero temperatures. The photo above shows Villanueva kicking a field goal in that game.
What makes Villanueva such a compelling story this week?
Today’s essay should piss off of lots of people.
Eureka! At least I’ve found one thing I’m good at.
Let’s talk about things that are practical, but seemingly ridiculous. In other words, let’s discuss some crazy ideas that actually make perfect sense, but which are unlikely ever to be taken seriously let alone adopted by mainstream society.
Here are five things (probably) worth considering: