It is time...

There are two things that Arsenal management have to consider. The first is to force Arsene Wenger to change his philosophy and to go out and buy a big name forward or two, and a holding midfielder (all of whom need to be over the age of 28 and have some good experience for club and country). Or the second….. Sack Arsene Wenger.

I hate to say that, and can’t believe that I just did. BUT – I am an Arsenal fan, not an Arsene Wenger fan. It is NOT ok to beat most of the table but to continuously lose to Chelsea and Manchester United.

Arsenal has become a damn day care and it is blatantly obvious. The Emirates provides care to young potential stars who eventually leave, only to get bigger contracts and to play for clubs that have a better chance of winning a trophy.

It was fitting that one of those young studs, that grew up through the ranks of Arsenal and provided years of faithful service to the Gunners dealt out two assists against his former club (Ashley Cole). It is also fitting that another such player, Anelka, has blossomed into a phenomenal strike partner to arguably the best forward in football, Didier Drogba.

It is time for Arsene to either change philosophy or step down. Eduardo? Should be playing for Derby or Hull City. He has no right to step on the field with the likes of Cesc Fabregas, Arshavin and William Gallas. Carlos Vela? Denilson? Abou Diaby? Really? Thank god Ebou didn’t get on the field. Here’s some advice: if a player does not get recognized to play for his national team, why play him? Also, why have more than ten of those players on your team?

Arsene, your philosophy worked. It worked when you had the fiery Patrick Viera, the once solid Sol Campbell, the phenomenal Thierry Henry. It worked when you had the genius Bergkemp, the beloved Tony Adams and the tricky Pires and Ljungberg. Why? Because they had experience, because they had the will and ‘power’ to win. That is why Ashley Cole flourished, that is why Flamini, Hleb and other young Gunners looked good, because they had the right influential players to help guide them. The right mix of young raw talent and experienced, finesse-type players with the will to win, helps win trophies.

There is no one on the current Arsenal roster that can step up and be that dominant leader. Fabregas is great, but he needs to be nurtured, he needs the right team mates to help him reach his potential, the potential that will one day mesmerize the footballing world.

Today, Drogba was seen getting in the face of his team mates, Cech was yelling at his defense, Terry was face to face with the referee demanding better calls. They have the determination, they have that extra push to seek a victory. Arsenal? Too young, too inexperienced. When Eduardo turned the ball over practically every time he touched it, no one demanded more out of him. When Arshavin stood around and watched the ball drift two feet away from him, no one demanded more. When the youthful Walcott made ill-advised passes, no one put his arm around him and said “hey, why not try this?”

You know what will happen next? I do.. Fabregas will leave, Vermalean will leave, Arshavin will leave, Walcott and Persie will probably struggle a little more and then eventually leave too. This is what has happened the past few years, the players that have the class and potential realize that their careers will suffer at the Emirates and will leave. And do I blame Hleb, Cole, Flamini, Adebayor, Toure? Do I point figures at Viera, Henry and Pires for leaving? Most certainly not! Hey – want more money and a better chance of winning? Yepp, makes sense to me.

The premiership is a battlefield. The likes of Eduardo, Nasri, Rosicky, Vela, and Traore do not belong in the physical Barclays. Eboue, Bendtner, Diaby deserve a few minutes. But just a few. It is sad that Fabregas, Persie, Arshavin, Clichy, Sagna, Song and Gallas have to play with these chumps.

I admire Arsene Wenger, but I am an Arsenal fan. The time has come to change. Part ways, move on. Arsene is a great coach, but this whole “hey let me find a young stud and nurture him” belongs at the Neverland ranch with the late Michael Jackson or at the Vatican with those sketchy Roman Catholic priests. Get a clue, we look like little boys against the Red Devils and the Chelsea Blues. If you don’t see it yet, let a devout Arsenal fan help you. It is time. Spend some money or leave.

And once again… we have nothing good to say about the French.

Romance, Architecture, Liberty, The French kiss, Good wine, the Tour De France, a disgustingly ugly accent and the menage a trois are all glorious hallmarks by which every Frenchman can hang their chapeau. Well, minus the accent. But for all you bluecoats, here’s another famous trait for ya: your ability to piss the world off.

The Stade De France, or ‘Stade De Fraud,’ as it should be referred to, was the site of an extremely controversial goal that has now generated a whirl wind of speculation for the FIFA governing body. Anyone who saw the game has to be infuriated with the cheek of Thierry Henry in handling the ball not once, but twice, in setting up William Gallas’ winning goal.

The Irish were dismayed, and Robbie Keane’s outburst, shredding FIFA’s authority was well justified. Ireland did file an appeal to replay the game, which, Thierry Henry admitted, was the “fairest solution” to the controversy. But as expected, FIFA denied Ireland of a chance at justice. The final score is simple: Ireland were cheated out of a trip to South Africa.


Not just the Irish mob, but all football fans should be furious.

What makes football such a pure sport is the fact that it is the most democratic sport on the planet. You don’t have to be six-foot-tall, you don’t have to run the 100 meters in less than 12 seconds, you don’t have to be able to bench press 250 pounds and no, you don’t have to be able to bend it like Beckham. There is no other sport where six year old boys, female college students and black-lunged grandpas can all play against each other in a competitive manner. Football, like love, is a universal language. The equality of the game is magnificent in that every nation grows up playing the sport. It’s a purely democratic game where common sense and unselfishness thrive.

The world cup is the quintessence of the sport and a great example of why football is just remarkably beautiful. Every nation has a shot to make the tournament and to win it. Every culture, every country and every race find common ground and turn their attention to this tournament, making it the most widely-viewed event in the world.

But, FIFA’s refusal to use replays and the decision to deny Ireland’s humble appeal is threatening the foundations of the integrity of the sport. It’s shameful and embarrassing to say the least.

I am a huge Thierry Henry fan. As an Arsenal faithful, he has been an icon and arguably one of the best footballers of all time. He is an ambassador of the sport known not only for his stunning goals but for his fight against racism throughout Europe and for campaigning racial integrity for all leagues across the world.
But his handling of the ball is just unforgivable. At such a big stage, a world cup qualifier, what he did was nothing short of blatant cheating. In the post-game interview he said that the “ball hit my hand.” Sorry Ti Ti, but that is a lie. Henry down right handled the ball, caressing it gently down to his feet so he could cross it to Gallas. It was no accident, and it did not hit his hand, he consciously handled it.

Yes, it is Martin Hansson’s (the referee) fault for not noticing the handball, but that’s only part of the issue. The fact is that Henry, being a house-hold name, and role model was just un-classy. Sadly, he has completely tarnished his once formidable reputation by this unforgivable act.
After the ball hit the back of the net, Henry celebrated the goal while the Irish hung their heads in dismay as the incompetent Swedish referee let the goal stand. French media and former French greats blame the referee. Fair enough, but Les Bleus, I hope there are a lot of boo’s ringing your ears when you get to Johannesberg.

But there is a larger picture. It is the same argument that football associations of smaller European and South American countries as well as Asian and African countries have been making for years, much before any one who reads this post was born. Football, meant to be a democratic sport, is held in the hands of the powerful European based FIFA. Keane was right when he said “of course Platini is happy, France are in the World Cup.”

Once again, the European elite get all the luck that they need and this is something that needs to be looked at. It’s not just about who wins the pick to host the next World Cup nor is it about the unfair seeding system per continent. It’s about the sport, and how every country deserves a fair chance. Sorry Ireland, but FIFA has ruined the dream to play in the World Cup, not just for many of the Irishmen that took the pitch that day, but for the nation as well. Every footballer dreams of playing in the World Cup, and because of the decision of a few corrupt leaders, it will be another four years before this opportunity comes back around. Now how fair is that?

Celtics Clinch East, Knock off Lakers in NBA championships

Yes, I said it.


Confident? Yes. Cocky?


Yes I am. But so are they, and so they should be.


So much so that they even have an empty banner hanging in their practice facility in preparation for their 2010 championship banner. During NBA TV's study of the Celtics pre-season, Doc Rivers claimed that "there is a real passion and excitement at camp. The championship is all that we're working for."

Can they do it? Well, let's see...

Critics didn't think the big three would gel with each other in their first season. But they cruised through the regular season, winning the east by a large margin, and then embarassed the Lakers in the finals.

Last season, with an injured Kevin Garnett and Leon Powe as well as the loss of arguably the best provider off the bench (James Posey), the Celtics made it all the way through to the Eastern Conference Finals. It took a resurgent Orlando Magic seven games to beat them. Seven games!

If we were healthy, I'm pretty sure we would have just added another chapter to the already storied Boston-Los Angeles rivalry.

But with the start of a new campaign, we have new fuel to add to our hopes of championship glory don't we?



Well, what are we up against?




The Lakers have definitely gotten better with the addition of the notorious Ron Artest. But, they will probably have a harder time in the West with the key addition of Richard Jefferson and a healthy Manu Ginobli in San Antonio. The Mavericks look better and the Nuggets will probably show a lot of potential. But let's be honest, it's STILL Kobe's playground.

Cleveland and Orlando have also added fortified reinforcements to help booster their chances of a championship. Bron has Shaq, but will they help each other out? Can King James take it to the next level? Orlando added Vince who will bring some more razzle-dazzle to Orlando. But will Dwight start dominating the paint night in and night out? This whole 'dominate once every three games' is getting old. (Yes that's for you too Mr. Stoudamire).

But it seems like Boston has made all the right moves. Adding a defensive big man, Rasheed Wallce, who can shoot the ball will trouble the Shaquille O'Neals, the Dwight Howards and the Pau Gasol/Andrew Bynums.

Marquis Daniels is the perfect answer for the void created by the loss of utility man James Posey. Daniels can shoot, dribble and defend. He can play the 1 or 2, giving valuable minutes on the bench to Rondo, Allen and Pierce.

Also. Let's remember that Rondo and "Big Baby" Glen Davis are only getting better and better. They both displayed superior performences in the play offs. Their numbers and efficiency have improved since they got in the league. This pre-season, Ray Allen said that "Rondo is taking over."


And, most importantly.... We have a healthy Kevin Garnett.

The only detremental factor that will cause some hindrances to our championship run is for the roster to stay healthy. An article in yesterday's USA Today stated that this will be the last shot the Celtics have at a championship due to this very reason.

Yes the Celtics are old. Yes, injuries will keep the Big three out for a few games here and there. But they are deeper than they were last season. They are hungrier than they were last season. They will win this year.

All in all, it's a recipe for a championship. Expectation is high and confidence is at it's peak.

So go ahead Celtic nation, swagger on.

I will sport my celtic pride at Conseco, the day after my 25th birthday. I will also join your fan nation in Boston at the Garden this spring. I will drink my Sam Adams and reflect the intensity that KG and Rasheed bring every night. And I will cherish a cigar in memory of the great Red, and light it when we bring home that 2010 banner.

Thinking outside of the Box

This past Sunday I heard a sermon that encouraged people of Hamilton County (one of the top 10 richest counties in the country) to wander out of their suburbs, to forget about their wine-tasting parties and their nights at Broadway productions and to "think outside of the box."

Very cliche right? But yet very true.

I like walking into a bar and seeing people of different cultural backgrounds. People dressed completely differently. Some rocking the dance floor while others debating politics.

I like zipping through my grocery and noticing aisles titled 'Mexican' and 'spices,'
'Asian,' or 'imported brews' bustling with activity. I like hearing Harry Connick Jr and Mary J. Blige one after the other while I browse through a clothing store.

As you can see, I like the diversity. I like variety.

I was sad when our bartender at Houlihans told us that they don't serve the Tandoori Wrap anymore because no one orders it.

In his message on the Good Samaritan, the pastor stressed the importance of combating the fear of the unknown. He encouraged people to break the mould of the mundane in order to try something new.

I thought about this, about how it is so easy to fall into a confined routine. You know, the 9-5, the gym, dinner with the family, catch up with the news and watch your favorite show and then hit the sack. Five days a week of the same daily routine can really hinder that "spontaneity" and support that rigid mould.

I'm not scared of what's different or foreign or new. But I am scared of doing the same thing over and over. To surround myself with the same people and with the same daily duties is mediocre. The world is too large and beautiful of a place to limit oneself to a neighborhood.

So what's the point of this post? It's a reminder to myself and to whoever reads this, to head out and break some barriers. To make friends with someone completely different than myself. To eat food that sounds absolutely unappealing (that raw fish that they call Sushi). To try a new hobby and to learn about the struggles of someone else.

The world is shrinking, and I hear the phrase "it's such a small world," on a weekly basis. Diversity is always right around us. Even here in this rich white suburb, there are 15,000 people that fall below the poverty line. It's time to break that comfort zone and to start thinking outside of the box. Then, to the next level, and to act outside of it.

The cross before me the world behind

I was born and raised in a devout Christian family. Not the type of family that is unrealistically conservative in their Bible thumping, but to parents that are global Christian leaders. They are educators: teaching at seminaries all over the globe, equipping future Christian leaders. They are pastors, preaching the gospel in every church and fellowship that they meet. They are missionaries, they supervise and create large missions in the third world that educate, clothe and feed orphans who otherwise would not know the love of Christ. They are mentors who lead forums, advise pastors, mediate seminars and present workshops on issues that our faith comes in contact with.

It amazes me that wherever we are, whatever the culture, context or zip code, we are always approached with the "Dr. Arles, I have read your book and….," or "Dr. Arles, please speak at our forum on the church's response to the 4-14 window."

For the past week, I have been my Dad's driver. We have been invited to the offices of various presidents and pastors from all realms of ministry, missions, seminaries and churches throughout Illinois, Indiana and Kentucky.

I'm currently sitting in the library of dad’s alma mater, Asbury Theological Seminary, in Wilmore Kentucky. Chapel today was inspirational. The worship was powerful and echoed through the halls of Estis Chapel. The message on the call to global missions by their new president, Dr. Timothy Tennent (who of course, knows my Dad), was thought-provoking. Then there was the lunch forum that featured a panel of President Tennent, Terry C. Muck - a former editor of Christianity Today, a scholar who is an expert on Sufism, and Dr. Arles. They tackled a plethora of questions on the topic of Christianity and Islam and the increasing concerns of Islam's growth in America.

It’s encouraging to hear outcry’s from these learned Christian communities about how perhaps we focus too much on going outside our borders to baptize the third world. Perhaps we are neglecting our own blatant struggles in our local Christian families. Perhaps we are ignoring the terrible division in our communities. Perhaps we have taken this beautiful Eastern-born religion, westernized it out of our own capabilities, and are now struggling to find our real identity. It’s clear for everyone to see that institutionalized religion has a horrible knack of corruption, exploitation, hatred and hurt. For centuries, our communities have struggled with it.

I don’t know what the purpose of this post is. My mind has just been buzzing with all these issues and my own thoughts and perspective on the church and its role.

By no means is my life a reflection of my parent’s piety. By no means am I to judge, or is anyone other than Yahweh to judge. I do not want to enter a seminary, and I constantly struggle with living up to Jesus’ standards. But I do have an opportunity to sift through my thoughts and express my feelings.

One thing I do believe in, is unity. One thing I love to witness, is unity in diversity. The beauty of my religion is that it is personalized. To my faith, it is a phenomenon in itself that Jesus is a unique being and different to a six-year old country boy on a Texas ranch, as he is to a 68 year old Nepalese lesbian.

But yet, despite that unique concept of Christianity, we have so much division. So much contradiction in our subjective perspectives on the Bible’s teachings seem to corrupt our faith. This was a concept that I have heard over and over. The repetitive call for a united front is old news.

Here in the Bible belt, this division is obvious. It’s common to stop at an intersection which has a church on each corner, each hailing from different denominations. The sad reality is that each church is struggling with numbers and with raising the funds to sustain it and yet the thought of unifying into one large church is deemed impossible.

Is that not madness? As you can tell, I struggle with this.

More Than Words

“Whatever words we utter, should be chosen with care for people will hear them and be influenced by them for good or ill.” Buddha knew exactly what he was talking about. I think PR and Journalism folk, and most people with common sense, can relate to the enlightened one’s words.

But others, like Chris Brown, need to pay close attention.

As we all know, Brown is in a huge predicament. What he did was horrible and it will take a long time for him to gain the forgiveness and support of his fans. He is working on rebuilding his image and with making public appearances, apologizing on various media outlets and doing his community service (picking up trash), it seems like he’s taking the right steps.

Well, all untill he decided to pick a fight with Oprah. Yes, the billionaire-business-mogul-Oprah. It’s as if Rihanna was not a worthy enough target for Brown, so he decides to climb up a few rungs of the Forbes ladder and choose Oprah. Why would anyone want to anger the world’s (arguably) most influencial woman?

After the Chris Brown debacle, Oprah devoted an episode to domestic violence and condemened Brown’s actions, clearly supporting Rihanna. Brown was upset with Oprah. He expected her to be more supportive considering he appeared on her show and even put on a concert for her school in Africa. When asked about what he thought about the show, he said, “It was a slap in my face.”

Really? Were those the best words Brown could come up with? Did he even think about how appropriate they were? “A slap in my face?” Wow, now those were choice words!

People, including celebrities, have all the right to express their emotions. But why not take the time to filter and polish those words to accurately reflect what you feel? Why not take extra caution when your words are spoken from a public platform and think about how your words fit the context?

This is a simple PR exercise: find the best words to paint the picture. Websters, Shift+F7, Dictionary.com, in today's day and age, there are no excuses. I don't know what Brown's publicists were thinking, and I'm sure this will become a case-study of 'why your celebrity/CEO/spokesperson/brand endorser needs to be prepped before public appearances.'

But, it’s a lesson that we all can learn from. Choose your words wisely. Actions do speak louder than words, but sometimes, words can be pretty loud as well.

Yeah, We lost a lot of good men out there..

Doesn’t change suck? I couldn’t come up with anything more profound. I really didn’t want to. Considering that I feel like a teenager when I think about change, I find this rudimentary question appropriate.

Moving house, graduating high school and college are great experiences. But to me, they were more bittersweet than joyous. All the memories, all the friends and all the mundane experiences that are often taken for granted are suddenly extinguished. It’s as if, like all the candles on a cake, they are abruptly blown out. Except this time, you’re not an overzealous birthday boy/girl waiting to tear open presents, you’re an adult ready to familiarize yourself with a new environment.

I had the pleasure of attending a wedding this past weekend and in the process, reconnected with a number of people from college. One of my old roommates from the Beaver, (a house on our college campus) AKA the house of legends, and his wife stayed with us for the weekend. It’s amazing how I hadn’t seen or talked to some of our old friends in years, and yet, as soon as we were face to face, every memory and significant incident returned with ease.

Isn’t it crazy how a few months of the nine-to-five, business-clad routine changes a person? We had all changed. I hadn’t seen a number of these people in years. But it felt great to be able to have no small-talk, have no awkward silences, but to just jump into conversation as if we had just played a round of pong last weekend at the Trophy House. (Another Anderson hot spot).

It felt natural. Amidst all the change: rings on fingers, ironed shirts, titles next to our names, new hobbies, expensive cocktails instead of cheap beer in hand, it felt natural. Laughter and good times are never forgotten.

So now, after an extended weekend of story-telling and re-enactments, it’s back to the grind. Everyone has soberly and somberly headed home. It’s back to the office, back to the grind, back to the professional life. But at the next reception, or the next homecoming or Super Bowl party, re-living freshman year comes natural. It’s as if a few of the candles were re-lit and don't have to be blown out for a while.

So what did I take back from it? (This is a question I have learned to love) It’s as simple as this: Change is inevitable, so learn to adapt quickly. But along the way, never take anything for granted and make the most out of everything. Get to know everybody, even the little shifty kid in the back of Intro to Psych, the one that smelled bad and was addicted to Pokemon. Because you will see him again.

And finally, learn to love wedding season, take notes from Jeremy Grey and John Beckwith. After having seven to attend this summer, I have to admit, it’s my favorite time of the year.

"Hey! I'm the new face of Public Relations!"

A very public workout routine with Reggie Bush, drama-filled episodes of Keeping up with the Kardashians and a disappointing run on Dancing with the Stars. Those could be chapter titles of Kim Kardashian’s life.

But turn the page, and here’s a new and equally disastrous story. Kim is creating and executive-producing her new reality TV show that is supposed to “show the ins and outs of the Public Relations world.” The show will star her two friends: Jonathan Cheban and Simon Huck who work for Command Public Relations.

I took a look at the Command Public Relations website. It’s a joke. I also looked up the twitter page of “PR guru,” or “PR powerhouse,” Jonathan Cheban. His posts are full of repetitive exclamation marks “!!!!’s,” “OMG’s”and “LOL’s.” One of his recent posts read: “Don’t be a bore. Be a WHORE!!” (He chose to capitalize it, I just copied it verbatim).

This is just what our industry needs. PR has already been tainted by the nonsensical world of PR that MTV’s PoweR Girls tried to “reflect.” BBC TV then chimed in with Absolutely Famous adding to a ridiculous image of PR. And today, most people think that our most popular PR guru is Samantha Jones!

Kardashian will provide the public with just another means to raise an eyebrow at the thought of Public Relations.

No, a PR professional does not have the glamorous role of rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous. You don’t sleep your way through your client list to seal the deal. It’s not just event planning or crisis consultation for celebrities. If it were, then Dennis Rodman would get my vote to be the next president of PRSA (our professional association).

Sadly, and thanks to Kim Kardashian, most people will continue to think otherwise.

Herpes, Gonorrhea, Schism, HIV-AIDS... Wait a minute... Schism?

The term ‘schism’ has been plastered all over SportsCenter today. I find it quite amusing that it’s such a powerful term and yet most of the involved athletes, when asked about the term, didn’t know what it meant. Jared Allen, an animal on the gridiron, thought a schism was an STD; he thought that absurd because he said “we preach abstinence around these parts.”

The term carries a lot of burdened Christian connotations such as the Roman Catholic schism between the Eastern and Western orthodox beliefs. Common synonyms would be: split, discord, rift and gulf.

More commonly, and in this context, it would signify a division. Such as the division that Brett Favre’s emergence in the Viking’s locker-room has ruptured. Or the tremors of disaster in the city of brotherly love and the overall hype that Michael Vick’s return has created.

That is a schism.

But should these be schisms? I’m sure that once Favre starts winning games, there will be calm waters up in the land of 10,000 lakes. He can’t expect to make friends if he carries on retiring and returning every pre-season. But as he stated “I’m not here to make friends.” Besides, those friendships will soon directly correlate with his W’s in a Viking jersey.

Vick’s predicament is a completely different issue that I’m not going to get into. But I fully believe in second chances. It’s harsh when authorities choose to pick out a guinea pig. So I’m glad that Vick gets a chance to return to his profession and I hope that we can all remember that football is his job. He’s just another man. I don’t know what to think about the Vick-McNabb relationship though. It could either be a great run or just another disastrous duo in Philly.

So that’s the schism Mr. Allen. No, it is not an STD. It’s a little disagreement that your Vikings need to sort out. (I’m glad that I can safely say this to you from a few hundred miles away, from behind my laptop.)

Music and Memories

So I was in Southern Indiana last weekend, driving to a small town in the middle of no where. I love road trips for two main reasons: The scenery and landscape of the surroundings, as well as the tunes/sing-a-long sessions with everyone in the car. In fact, I’m known to make a CD for every specific road trip. It’s something I love and miss doing. (My Sony Vaio is on its death-bed and currently not able to burn CDs anymore. I’m on the verge of replacing her with my first ever Mac. I know, it’s about time!)

But back to our road trip. Southern Indiana really can’t boast of much, but it does provide some picturesque scenery intersected by long, fairly lonesome highways that I’m slowly getting acquainted to.

On this trip, we went through the usual repertoire: Dave Matthews, a few mixes that had John Mayer and Third Eye Blind on them. But then, someone put in Weezer’s Blue album which suddenly whisked me out of Southern Hoosier-dom and into a completely different world. It was a stroll down memory lane.

Rocking out to the Sweater song, Buddy Holly and Say It Ain’t So, with the windows down on a beautiful evening, surrounded by cornfields was just great. But what struck me as even more profound was how this album mustered up memories that I hadn’t even thought about for the past few years.

More than just the Blue album, I feel like any song I listen to can relate to a specific memory. Whether it was my first basketball tournament or the first girl I dated or even my first holiday. I’m sure I could relate a song to any memory I’ve ever had.

Science states that the olfactory sense triggers a strong recollection of memories and that perhaps smell is the largest contributor to the memory process. I do agree with this connection.

But I’m also amazed at music’s ability to rekindle memories. Music is an art. Listen to Beethoven’s fifth or Vertical Horizon’s “You’re a God” and I’m sure you will be stimulated to paint your own imagery and create a fantasy world that is a uniquely subjective phenomena. Bono’s Sunday Bloody Sunday lyrics would probably spark feelings of the Save Tibet campaigns to an Asian, while it could merely bring back the younger drinking days at the local pub to an Irishman. See? Same lyrics, same tune, but completely different perspectives.

What do you think? Is there a song that you could relate to a specific memory? Let me know.

Reaching back to the roots: Tranquility amidst confusion

So I’m back in Bangalore, India. It’s hot, crowded, polluted and yet surprisingly calming. I still love it. There’s something very mystic about the country, something that obviously reached out to various rockers and celebrities through the years like the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, Kevin Garnett etc. Something here seems to nurture the discovery of inner thoughts, of karma, of nirvana. The country seems to evoke a sense of meaning to life.

I can’t seem to figure out what makes this dirty, smelly country so fascinating. Is it the prevalent religious history that it has? Driving around and seeing all these massive mosques, intricately designed Hindu temples and old Anglo-Indian churches is like leafing through a coffee table book of historical marvels. All these religions, all these cultural differences and yet these simplistic people manage to live right next door to each other and make it work. We’re in a world full of division and seclusion, yet meeting some of my parent’s tenants who are devout Hindus defied these barriers. My parents own a home that they lease out, their tenants welcomed us into their homes and provided coffee and snacks to us, a bunch of foreigners that are obviously Christian. What a humbling experience. It seems like they don’t care about religious differences here, they don’t care about cultural backgrounds or socio-economic status, people here just care about friendship and relationships.

Or perhaps it’s the perfect balance of life in this chaotic country that reaches out to people. All the extremes: the rich and the poor, the traditional and the modern, the conservative and the Westernized traveller. It’s like watching the opening scene of the Lion King and seeing all these different animals from the circle of life celebrate together when they should be feasting off each other’s flesh.

I can’t comprehend how everyone gets along. It’s mind blowing. I mean can you imagine a John-Deer-clad farmer from Iowa living next door to a Puerto Rican illegal immigrant on one side and a Harlem-raised baller on the right? Not just that, can you imagine them grilling out together and baby-sitting each other’s kids on a daily basis?

Yeah not a realisitc picture huh? But it happens here in the Indian sub-continent.

I saw this sign yesterday that was really inspiring. Gandhi’s influence on mankind is still prevalent with simple slogans like this. I have a lot of thoughts on this quote and I’m sure everyone who reads it will feel inspired. Yet, it’s hard to follow.

I feel like i’m back home. My mind is constantly sifting through thoughts, emotions, memories and concerns, the traffic is insane and the poor are everywhere. But the food is great, everyone is still profoundly happy, and we met a Michael-Jackson tribute cover band who invited us to watch them at a few local bars. What a crazy country. God bless it.

St. Pauls - Minnesota

The copper dome glistened and the magnificent fortitude reminded me of Europe. The afternoon sun shone in through the intricate stain glass casting all sorts of geometric patterns through the large structure adding to this phenomenal sense of grandeur. The resulting shadows cut through the remaining air, like veins across the naked sculptures that then continued to dissect the marble floor.

It was cool and dark, and despite a few curious visitors, it was quiet and my camera’s click seemed to disrupt the serene tranquility. It was the type of quiet that you feel before an interview, when you’re a little nervous but excited for what is to come.

The whole cathedral was enveloped in a mist of solemn revere. My palms were moist as I felt that someone, perhaps someone in the massive stain glass windows, or one of the 20 foot statues, was watching my every move.

The atrium of the Cathedral was a spot where any sinner would tremble. The mighty apostles were positioned in all four corners. Matthew, Mark, Luke and John were at least 20 feet tall and each prophet stood majestically in his chosen corner, gazing across the atrium with judging eyes. The half naked statues seemed to protect the Cathedral, showing no sign of mercy, while the angels from the glass peered down from the heavens, as though they were the last line of defense. The cathedral was simply awe-inspiring and knowing that over 800,000 people use this grand cathedral for a sense of spiritual dwelling rekindled my admiration of the power of Christianity.

The formidable structure is a historical landmark, one so dear that one of the 14 American Lego Ambassadors, Roy Cook, has now created a Lego model of the fourth largest cathedral in the country. The model took more than 50,000 pieces to build. This is what I recall of the St. Paul Cathedral in the Twin Cities.

In this beautiful city merged out of Minneapolis and St. Paul emerges a medical hub and a busy industrial population. A number of prestigious universities and the beautiful landscape of the North help add to the ‘busy’ nature of the city. All weekend long, I couldn't help but admire how every street was lined with busy bodies either running, speed walking or biking. No wonder it is known as the most active city in the country.

The twin cities are blessed with aesthetically pleasing architecture and a very artsy population. The Scandinavian influence is evident as a number of older cathedrals and historic buildings are scattered through the city while an abundance of parks and random artistic works add a little playful nature to the twin cities. Charles Schultz (creator of Peanuts) is from St. Paul, so random figures of Snoopy, Lucy, Charlie Brown and Linus are found in the most random locations.

I spent the weekend in the twin cities, and I really was delighted with familiarizing myself with yet another part of America. I truly feel that every state is extremely different and Minnesota is no exception. Minnesota and Indiana might be in the same country, but they are completely foreign to each other.

I’m not sure when, or if, I will ever get to return to Minnesota, but I would encourage anyone to take a trip up there if the chance arises. The Twin Cities are remarkable, with a lot to do and a lot to see. I even got to finally taste the “Juicy Lucy” at the Five-Eight Club. This is a restaurant that invented a burger in the twenties that is now pretty popular on the travel channel. It is a simple creation: two patties cooked with cheese in the middle, so that when you take a bite, the cheese oozes out (hence the name, Juicy Lucy). Pretty basic really, but still delicious.

St. Paul's Cathedral basically sated my appetite of the culture and structure of the Twin Cities. I also spent time at a number of waterfalls, state parks and of course, the legendary mall of America. It was a fun weekend and a great adventure in the land of 10,000 lakes. And of course, left me with another shot glass to the collection.

Twenty Years

My mentor gave me some very valuable advice the other day. But let me start with this, if you don’t have a mentor, you need one. It is absolutely beneficial to start a relationship with someone who has years of experience in your field and a large array of networks. He/She is also going to guide and teach you a lot about life and your career. All over lunch, once a month? Sold.

You want to surround yourself with people who you respect; you want to learn from the best and to mature quicker than your peers so that you get the promotion and the raise quicker then everyone around you. Mentors are instrumental in making this happen.

Plus, the baby boomer generation dominates these positions that hire people, train people and then fire people. They also make all the money and make all the decisions of the company that you work for. They like to take the younger generation under their wing and show them a thing or two over a stogie or brewski. So it’s pretty simple. Get a mentor or two, and get to know them well.

Anyways, my mentor gave me this valuable piece of advice. He said that I should write down my career goals, put it away in a safe/filing cabinet and always work towards them. As cliché as this sounds, it makes perfect sense.

Twenty years from now, when I’m at the pinnacle of my career, where will I be? What will I be doing? Where will my kids go to school? Will they be Notre Dame, Boston Celtics and Arsenal fans as well? What will be the newest Arles family tradition?

As I write this list I need to be as realistic as possible. I mean sure I’d love to take over for Richard Branson as the CEO of Virgin, or become the Editor-in-chief of GQ, but I really doubt that either of these is going to happen, Black president or not.

So what do I want to do in the next 20 years? Well, let’s just say that perhaps I have already written out this document and stashed it away nice and safe, so here’s a little sneak peak, or an appetizer if you will.

As much as I respect non-for-profit work and pro-bono work, I have an obsession for money. Yes, I’m evil, as I’ve been told. So, corporate America is my goal. In twenty years I want to be at the head of my Public Relations/Marketing department for a successful corporate company.

I would love to be a free-lance journalist, because this is now blossoming into my new found passion. I love history and culture, so if I could contribute to travel publications or historic publications that focus on cultural issues, then I would be a very happy man. I mean if Dhani Jones can host his own show as a “travelling journalist,” then I’d hope I could contribute somewhere. (I actually really like the show: Dhani tackles the globe, on the travel channel).

I also love the restaurant business and have always dreamed of owning a restaurant. Now sure, this might be a far stretch, but I think it could be made a reality if carried out the right way. Most of you know that I’ve always wanted to open up a “Sandy’s,” in fact some of you have even bought me shot glasses from various cities that read “Sandy’s bar, Panama City Beach,” or what not. Sadly, as you can infer from the picture, I will reluctantly have to come up with another name. A high-end Italian restaurant known for a relaxed environment, bright ambiance and great live music is a start, but I’m sure finances and location will determine that when the time comes.

As most of you know, I have a great love for coaching. I’ve coached soccer at the club and high school levels and have loved every moment of it. Sports have always been my outlet and since I can’t play them on a competitive level anymore, (Pick-up ball at a church on Thursday nights really doesn’t count, and beer pong seems to have lost its once glorified enticement), coaching is the next step. This is something I want to stick with and continue to do, even when I have kids.

I foresee Pamela teaching at an elementary school, but I hope that in twenty years we can fund a side project for her. She has always dreamed of having her own bookstore that also caters to younger kids and offers special classes to them. As teachers have wide open summer and Christmas breaks, this is an ideal project for her and I hope that it will be established by then.

Dream big? Yes I do. There are a lot of other stupid things that I predict for my future, like owning a beautiful house that has a urinal in every bathroom, or being able to travel to a different country every summer. But those are all irrelevant at the moment. I also don’t care where we live, as long as it’s a bigger city, that is pretty diverse and where the weather isn’t horrible all year long. So yeah, that might hint at a wave goodbye to Indianapolis.

This is just a little sneak at my future goals list. I’m sure it will change a lot in the time to come. But it’s a start. I highly recommend it to everyone. Most of you already have a mental note of your dreams and goals, but I think that putting it down in words really helps you to think constructively and directly about it.

Anyways, twenty years from now, hopefully I would have accomplished some of these, and perhaps one night over drinks at Sandy’s (or whatever its name will be), one of you will pull this blog post out for me.

Bow Wow Wow... Translated - "I'm a dog, I like being dirty, don't put clothes on me"

Some of you might not know this, but I serve at Texas Roadhouse four nights a week. I love the restaurant business and despite the over-dramatic servers, the hill-billies from Noble-tucky (Noblesville) who love to infiltrate our Fishers restaurant, and even the older whiney people who still think 10% is a stellar tip, I love serving. I really do, especially at Texas Roadhouse. It’s a fun atmosphere, it’s very laid-back, and they even play country music all the time! Haha, just joking, I still loathe country music.

Well, the reason for this blog post is due to a recurring incident that simply aggravates me, tickeling my sense of justice and global awareness just a tad bit the wrong way. I have this wonderful couple that eats at Roadhouse frequently, and they usually ask to sit in my section. They are great people and tip extremely well, which is always a bonus. But it’s what the lovely trophy wife does that sickens me. She always orders a 12 Oz. Fillet, cooked medium, which for you non red-meat craving cavemen, is truly a great cut of meat. Extremely lean, a choice cut, cooked to perfection, it is obviously a very expensive steak ($27.99 to be exact). For my Brittish readers, that’s 18.41 Pounds, or 1,390 Rupees for my Indian faithful.

I love food, and I love splurging on food. So buying an expensive steak is not a problem to me. My problem is that she always has a take home box given to her as soon as her food hits the table. She then, like clockwork, portions roughly three-fourths of her steak into the take home box and then commences to nibble at the remaining meat. So where does this three-fouth portion of mouth watering fillet go to? Why yes! It goes to Wrigley, her beloved little Shih Tzu.

This is what irritates me. There are millions of children starving across the globe, dying from malnutrition by the second, most of them have never had the joy of tasting a fillet, and yet here is a $21 (roughly) portion of steak tossed at a dog! I wouldn’t be upset at this if it happenned after she realized she was full, but no, this is a pre-planned act of madness!

Dogs are beautiful animals and I can’t wait to own my first home inorder to have a yellow Labrador (Pamela wants a little dog but I can’t stand them). But I’m sick and tired of hearing all these protests about animal abuse. They are animals, they are prey, it is a simple equation. Darwin’s survival of the fittest and theories on evolution have us at the top of the food chain, and I’m sorry but all other species are secondary.

Have you seen the infomercial that Sarah McLachlan endorses? It streams “In the arms of an angel” in the background while Mclachlan asks for a simple donation of “18 dollars a month, or just 60 cents a day to provide medical care, food, shelter and love to animals in need.” The first time I saw it, I thought it was a hoax, like a sadistic SNL skit. But no, it was an honest, real infomercial.

I think the BCSPCA (Brittish Columbia Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals) is an honorable charity. But I think it goes too far to ask for monthly donations to provide medical care, food and shelter to animals. Not dying children in Somalia or Bangladesh, but animals in Northern America. They even have water-puriying systems for cats and dogs. Seriously? Third World Countries don’t even have clean water sources, their sewage runs right into their city wells and hence we have typhoid, cholera and hepatitis!

According to the Bread ForThe World website, 16,000 children die from hunger-related causes every day. That’s one child every 5 seconds! And here are organizations trying to provide medical care, food and shelter to animals. Come on, Am I the only one infuriated by this?

No, dogs don’t need purified water, no they don’t need 40 dollar sweaters on them. No animal needs that, they are fine the way they are.

Instead of trying to doll up animals, how about we focus our attention on the real needs of the world, and start with world Hunger. Because providing animals with medical care is just lunacy. What’s next? Spa’s and day cares for animals?

All Those Small Things

The Mini Marathon took place this past weekend. 35,000 people registered for the race, just like the past seven years, making Indy the proud host of the largest running event in Northern America. Since I’ve been in the States, I’ve known many people that have successfully, and unsuccessfully, completed the race. Every year I tell myself that it’s a great idea for me to run the race and that “next year, I’m going to do it.” Sadly, I’m always still in bed when the first Kenyan streams through the ribbon and the last, strong-willed, chubby Aryan stumbles across the line.

But I really admire every one who takes part in this event, because I know that it’s really a great feat to accomplish. I’m a huge fan of goal-setting in general and think that it’s a great idea. I mean if Donald Trump has a large section in his autobiography on simple goal setting, than it has to be worth looking into right?

Trump talks highly about fasting for a week, or staying away from a simple luxury for a while. It’s all about building up self-control, and about knowing that you can control your every whim and fancy. I think that having a good grasp on one’s habits and routines is extremely important. But for some odd reason, I always seem to wrestle with this concept of “goal setting.”
I mean how many of you have really kept your New Year’s Resolutions? Yeah, sadly not I. This whole ordeal of making a goal, setting it on a pedastal and humbly working your way towards it, is it really worth it?

I think it is. But my point and argument is that instead of running hard from January till May for this marathon, shouldn’t one just run three miles everyday because they really want to be in shape, and not just because they hope to complete the marathon? This way the marathon just becomes another run in the park right? Because otherwise, as we all know it, most people who ran the marathon are back on their couches, eating their Lays and I’d bet they haven’t gone on a run even once this week.

So Instead of setting idealistic goals, shouldn’t we wake up every morning with the “hey – I’m going to do this!” approach? I might be getting ahead of myself here, but you know that I’m not a crazy optimistic type, I’m not trying to save the world or save souls, and I’m definitley not a morning person.

I’m just thinking that instead of doing things for an incentive or reward, how about we disprove Pavolov’s theories on Classical Conditioning, and do things because we realize that they are worth it and that sacrifice is the biggest asset. Sure, goals are great, but don’t let them be counterproductive, strive for the best benefit and work hard at it.

Just the other day I was networking at Starbucks. An old friend who is now a CEO of a very successful company basically said “My biggest advice is to be ready to meet anyone anywhere and to impress them.” This really hit me hard because it’s good advice for everyone. Don’t wait to play your hardest only when scouts are around, don’t only be on your best behavior when the In-Laws are in town and don’t only be in your best shape when the Marathon starts. Do all of that everyday. As much as I despise Eminem, his line “opportunity comes once in a lifetime, Yo,” really does make sense. Gosh, I wish every kid I’ve ever coached would read this. Well hopefully they do. Anyways, what are your thoughts?

Is beauty really in the eye of the beholder?

So I want to start with a preface. Ladies, I’m a dude, so I’m going to think like a dude. This is also my blog, or my “nest of trust” if you will, so I’m allowed to let my thoughts ramble and hope that you will still follow along. Also, fellas, I’m still the same Sandy, so disregard some of the weird habits I have ok? Yes Bacardi Lemon is a great drink, yes I think musicals are highly entertaining, and so what if I consider my GQ my second Bible? I’m sure Jesus wore some pretty stylish togas back in his day. But hey just follow along.

It was 80 degrees today so I started my morning with my usual 2.3 mile run outside which ends at my gym. I was the only one in the gym at the time and came to realize that some twit left one of the TVs on, which is a huge pet peeve of mine. Public places are meant to be maintained, and it starts with us! Side note – please don’t take your kids to the gym, it’s not a daycare and the machines are not playhouses.

So the TV was tuned into the Regis and Kelly show, which is a pleasant surprise, cause we all hope our wives, or future wives, turn into the blossom that is Kelly Ripa. So I made sure there was no sign of another dude walking in, and sheepishly turned the TV my direction and placed my earphones back in so that if a dude were to walk in, I’d pretend that I wasn’t watching. Sneaky, I know.

Regis was not on the show this morning, and replacing him was Neil Patrick Harris. Double-Whammy! I’m a huge fan of Harris, and for those of you who still haven’t seen How I met your Mother, you really need to, because it truly is Lengen… (wait for it)… Dary!

I was thinking to myself, what a great show, the hilarious Neil Patrick Harris (who was also the style guy in last month’s GQ), and the stunning Kelly Ripa. But wait there was more! Their guest star was the academy award winning Jamie Foxx, who is hands down one of the most talented men on the planet. It really is not fair that this guy has humor, style, charisma and a phenomenal musical talent, all at his fingertips. Blame it on the alcohol? Probably not, but I can’t wait for the Soloist.

So there the three of them are, Ripa in a stunning black cocktail dress, Doogie in his very tailored, crisp suit (which screw Men’s Wearhouse by the way; tight, tailored suits look great) and Foxx in a weird sweater-zip-up-combo that seemed confusing, but hey, he’s Jamie Foxx and he can pull of anything!

Next enters Maxim’s new favorite star, Ali Larter! Yes, the little girl from every guys favorite inspirational movie, Remember the Titans, who then evolved into the gorgeous girl on Heroes. Remember fellas that Larter was also the whip-cream girl on Varsity Blues. Could this show possibly get any better?

Amazingly, it really did. Ripa was talking about her recent Halloween costume in which she dressed up as Pamela Anderson. Now guys, I mean no disrespect to Anderson at all. Yes I’m a huge fan and I share the same sentiment, she is a goddess. But hey, Ripa showed the crowd a picture of herself in a very real Pamela Anderson costume which I’m sorry to say she pulled off extremely well, perhaps even better than Anderson herself.

Now don’t get me wrong, Anderson is probably the most famous woman on the planet, to the male population, and I’m not surprised if God receives thousands of thank you prayers from men and boys all across the globe on a daily basis. But I’m just saying, Ripa is gorgeous and with Anderson’s very fake attributes, Ripa’s aura just reached out of the TV and back handed me.

By this point there was an older man who was on a treadmill watching Sportcenter but giving me dirty looks because the volume on the Regis and Kelly show was probably a little too loud.

Now as I was thinking about this super human formation of Ripa and Anderson, I was drawn to a conversation I had with Pamela a few nights ago. She was at a Mary Kay party, which I think is a ridiculous idea. So what, girls can get together, get tipsy and play princess while spending money on yet another product? Come on guys, where’s our version? Can you imagine a bunch of us getting together and getting sloshed while playing with new paintball accessories? Or while the girls are doing a pottery barn ordeal, we’re together testing out new bar accessories? Geez, why have we still not come up with something similar?

So anyways, our conversation was about where the line should be drawn when it comes to wearing make-up. You know, when exactly is it too much make-up, and when is it time to say out loud, “is it really Susan Boyle impersonation day?”

Sadly, I don’t have an answer. I do think it could be a cultural thing though, as American women start putting on make up when they’re seven. You know, the year after they’re already wearing mini skirts and playing with their Coach Bags and texting their boyfriend Jack about their next game of footsie.

I think other cultures really lay off on the make-up ordeal and really develop the natural beauty till they start their careers. I might be completely wrong though, but it’s just a thought. I mean how many American girls do we really know that don’t put make-up on every single morning? It’s just something to think about.

And fellas, don’t let that whole nightmare of scoring with the hottest girl at the bar beat you in the butt the next morning when you wake up next to a ghost. Before you buy that ring, make sure you love her in the morning before she’s all dolled up, or you will be in for a very shocking surprise my friends. On that note, have a pleasant day.

The year of a coffee addiction, a practical gym routine and How I met your mother...

Firstly, this is my first attempt at a blog, I love writing and did a lot of it this year (My articles for the beloved Jag Journal and my Arsenal and Boston Celtics rantings and ravings on Bleacherreport.com), but honestly - My boss told me that I need to have one and I decided to finally jump on the "communication" bandwagon. (I also recently got on twitter, although i'm not too sure i'm a big fan of it.. yet).

SO, this has been a crazy year for me: getting done with college, moving to Fishers Indiana, Getting hitched and finally starting my career in Public Relations. Wow, I had a class that mentioned all four of those events as major life changes that would highly stress a person out! It's also been a year of no fast food, cleaning out the crude fratt-boy tees and changing the lifestyle to be taken more seriously as a professional. (Insert a lyrical ode to college here, via Asher Rother)

But looking back on this year, and let me clairfy that a year for me goes from May to May, you Gregorian fans can call it too many years of schooling i guess, but it really only makes sense, I don't think I had a stressful year. I think I had a great year and that I have added a lot of useful scars and dimensions to my life that I needed, both literally (note the new scar on my nose) and figuratively.

But, as cliche as this sounds, I guess I should have some words of advice from this year of metamorphis. This being good food for thought, I thought it would be good material for my first blog post...ever (I never had a diary as a kid and used to laugh at those who did... i sense another apology).

Now What Have I learned this year? I've learned to live in the present, and although I dream of success and about making lots of money and travelling the world, I've come to learn that the present is what is really most important. It's the little things done and said everyday that really spark meaning in life.

Don't take anything for granted and really work on the relationships that count. Family is essential, and for those of you who know me, I really haven't had the joy of doing the fun and boring mundane things with my family. This year has really taught me to work on those relationships.

Talking about relationships, I've been blessed with great friends and a beautiful wife that have stuck by me through the good and bad, and i'm extremely grateful for that. And even though my parents raised me with the thought that friends come and go and that family is what's most important, and as true as that statement is, I still beg to differ.

I've also learned to relax more and to not worry about things too much because they will work themselves out. One thing that we all need to remember (especially in this economy) is that life could be a lot worse, remember the little girl in the red dress, a la Schindler's list? or I guess Slumdog millionaire might be a more little more appropriate. So smile more and laugh harder and look fondly on all the memories that have created us.

Well, I think this post has been way too long, but it is my first, so I think it's justified. You might find yourself asking "Wow, he went through all that and that's all he learned? Dope!" To which i respond "Tsk Tsk my faithful blog reader from somewhere across the globe, there's a lot more to come!"

I hope you enjoy reading it and leave me some feedback. For me it's a way to express myself and network more, which apparantly "every PR professional needs to do!"