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Sacramento Reloaded

We have been out of Sacramento for 24 hours now so it’s time to look back and share some impressions while they are fresh and of the mind and not the memory. Flying into Sacramento is like diving into a miles long patchwork of streams and parcels of farmland.

You feel like you’re landing in a pasture when your plane touches down. There is no doubt this part of California thrives on agriculture and living from the land. This Sacramento Reloaded post generally deals with experiences within a 30 minute walking radius of the Sheraton Grand hotel in four directions of the wind.

1. Everything closes at 5pm. Good luck finding an open deli or a Starbucks or a restaurant if you’re thirsty or hungry at 5:01pm. On the East Coast we are used to the 24-Hour Deli and eating and drinking joints that close at 2:00am and open again at 5:00am. Our hotel only served food in their restaurant from 6:30am-2:00pm and from 5:30pm-9:00pm. If you were hungry in the afternoon you were on your own! We are used to hotels having eating places open for 24 hours a day.

2. Janna noticed the children in Sacramento are more fearful than those in New York City and Jersey City. Sacramento children walk in fear of strangers and they make too much eye contact that reveals their terror. On the East Coast, children do not worry if you’re a local or a tourist — is there a difference?  — they just go along with their business and don’t bother looking you in the eye unless you cause them trouble and then they stare you down eye-to-eye to send terror into your being! Sacramento children appear more vulnerable and unnerved by the unfamiliar than their East Coast peers.

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God Wanted Me to Beat You

Football is big business in America and so is religion so blending the two is as natural as sap on a tree but is there constitutional trouble ahead for public institutions that require prayer from their football players? Today’s New York Times addresses this matter:

As in politics and culture in the United States, college football is increasingly becoming a more visible home for the Gospel. In the past year more than 2,000 college football coaches participated in events sponsored by the Fellowship of Christian Athletes, which said that more than 1.4 million athletes and coaches from youth to professional levels had attended in 2005, up from 500,000 in 1990.

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A Leg that Tells the Weather

I injured my leg at Macy’s Herald Square the first week I moved to New York City 17 years ago. A rack of leather jackets was knocked over by a salesperson and a corner of the steel display device deeply dug down into the upper, inner, diamond of my right calf muscle. I stood there in Macy’s, wide-eyed and fresh from the Nebraska farmland, throbbing with pain and wondering what hit me as I watched my leg immediately discolor to red, then purple and into black.

Macy's Herald Square - NYC

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Ask Me Everything Everyone Else Does

I have been called a Pasty White Boy from Nebraska (my skin is so pale my friends tease me I actually look green) more often than I like and ever since I moved to the East Coast I have become, against my will, a Personal Information Servant.

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Tommy Lee Does Lincoln

As a graduate of the University of Nebraska-Lincoln I am disgusted and disappointed UNL allowed felon/porn star Tommy Lee to “audit” classes for a fake reality television show that debuted on NBC last night in order to build a promotional bandwagon for the prairie school.

Five other universities turned down the Tommy Lee show before Nebraska bought into the idea. The phrase “whore for attention” immediately comes to mind as an entire university bends over. I am uncertain why UNL was eager to get in bed with convicted wife batterer Tommy Lee and let him pretend to be a “real” student at the university.

Did UNL want to example what school life is like? Is there no better choice to be found to demonstrate on a national scale the UNL experience than a 42-year-old washed-up rock star who kicked his wife and was sent to jail?

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What a Hillbilly Drinks

I was called a Hillbilly yesterday when I asked for something to drink. No, I wasn’t ordering moonshine. I was ordering something to drink from a New York City street vendor to slake my thirst. The offending word I used was “pop.”

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Nothing Good Under the Sun

The sun is not good for you.  At one time, maybe twenty or thirty years ago, a tan was stylish and chipper.  No longer.  Sun on your skin is your enemy and the enemy of your children and your pets.  You must fight the sun to the death before the sun kills you first.  Several years ago I had a red mark under my left eye.

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