I Found A Peanut: 3/30/08

Thursday, April 3, 2008

60th Birthday Surprise: Michigan Man Wins $136 Million Jackpot

David Sneath wants a new fishing boat, because he likes to fish. And, he's making sure that he shares the prize money with four buddies who usually pool together for tickets, although this time they didn't.

Imagine winning $136 million. Would you take the yearly payouts or would you take it all at once? How would you spend the money?

David Sneath of Livonia said he still hadn’t returned to Earth Thursday, after winning the $136 million Mega Millions jackpot on Tuesday -- April Fools' Day and his 60th birthday.

“I’m having an out of body experience,” he told reporters, as he met with state lottery commissioner Scott Bowen. Sneath will take a lump sum payment of about $59 million after taxes, instead of the entire jackpot over 20 years.

Aviation First: Boeing Flies Hydrogen Battery Plane

ATA Shuts Down; Other Airlines Investigated for FAA Safety Violations

Elect Obama, Get Al Gore Too

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

Sports Icons Dedicate Memorial to Fast Pitcher

There will be special memories today in St. Petersburg, FL, as sports icons gather to dedicate a memorial to Sidd Finch, the pitcher who threw fast balls at more than 160 miles per hour.

The enigmatic Finch, whose Zen philosophy guided his sports development, only appeared briefly on the sports scene. George Plimpton was able to interview him before Finch's brief stardom, and his arm, disappeared.

This is an especially poignant event for me as I am a Finch. My family also includes a pioneer cross-country motor car driver, who enigmatically used a different name for those exploits.

Plimpton's story on Finch, who was also a musician and mountain climber, is here.

Some say that Robert Redford's "The Natural" was based in part on Finch. The violence, some believe, was added in to the film "for Hollywood's sake," noted baseball historian Eddie "Fast Ball" Harrigan said.

"He inspired me," declared Larry Anderson.

After the dedication, several old-time greats will take the field against the Senior League Champions in St. Petersburg.

Note: Anderson is no relation to pitching great Larry Anderson. Although the story of the motor car driver is true, the exploits of Sidd Finch are under scrutiny.

Yep, check out the date of this story. ;}

Sunday, March 30, 2008

The Drew Dumpster: Stacy Peterson Search Brings Out Volunteers; Drew Peterson Focuses on Media Spotlight for Himself

So far, Drew Peterson has blocked his children from testifying before the grand jury, gotten his guns back, posed for People magazine, invited numerous news shows to come into his home to film "Mr. Mom", said he wants a divorce, wanted to do a "win a date with Drew" radio promotion, and bragged about being a chick magnet. His natural match: attorney Joel Brodsky, who hams it up and laughs it up almost as much as Peterson.

The fact that third wife Kathleen Savio's death was finally ruled a homicide didn't affect Peterson at all in his rush to fame. He was too busy commenting on how women drive by his house, leave mash notes, and in general, want Drew.

Nice to know he's got his head in the game.

The Peanut Man

The morning is cool, a mist rising off the land. Just past dawn, still sleepy. But you're moving on down the road anyway.

There, under the trees, steam rising from the boiling pot, blending into the wisps of fog. The peanut man.

With the sun still barely tipping over the rounded earth, and the early morning cries of birds, the crossroads up ahead, you think: what did Robert Johnson first see when he met up with the devil? The fire glows hot as the peanut man smiles, chanting "hot boiled peanuts, fresh, sack 'em up. Hot boiled peanuts."

He hands you the sack, wet, hot, tempting with the fullness of hot boiled peanuts. You both smile, changing your money, fragile slip of paper, for what he has to offer: heat, a crunch, a taste like no other, the peanut, extraordinary food.

You hop back in your car. If you're smart, you find plenty of towels, paper or otherwise. Peanut bag goes in your lap, warming you.

Scoop out a hot boiled peanut. Here's where the juice begins, for real. If you know hot boiled peanuts, you don't crack open the peanut and transfer the meat to your mouth.

No, put the peanut in your mouth. Bite down. The warm, salty water, rich with the taste of peanut rushes across your tongue.

Lap your tongue around the peanut and shell. Suck. This is what life tastes like, meaty, salty, and warm, rich.

Remove peanut and shell, extract peanut. Toss shell somewhere. Return peanut, bare, naked, to your mouth. Taste it fully as you chew, the earthy taste of the simple peanut. Packed with protein, served with panache in that cradling shell, the peanut is about as good as it gets in the simple goodness of life.

If you've found a peanut, a whole bag of hot boiled peanuts, you've found food, warmth, sustenance, an entire culture, and something to muse about as you journey on.

Not to mention peanut shells to throw at your brother or buddy. Doesn't matter. The essence is the peanut, rich, rolling in the currents of history, from the Delta to the dawn of a new techno-millenium.

Brother Peanut is going along for the ride. And the peanut man, he'll always be out there, somewhere. No matter how long or hard the trip, suddenly, you round a curve, and there he is, smiling over his pot.

I Found A Peanut