There has been a lot of talk about the shootings in Tucson last weekend. It’s not the first time the world has been affected by senseless acts like this, and it certainly won’t be the last.

There has been a lot of blame thrown around, the left blames the inflamed partisan rhetoric of the far right, the right says the left is wrong for making it a political issue and we all go on. Both sides of the debate are predictably looking for something they can win the debate with.

In reality did Sarah Palin putting crosshairs (don’t insult my intelligence by saying they could be surveyor marks, we know what they were) on a map cause this? No, of course not. In the wider picture did the ugly political atmosphere that the extremists on either side of the spectrum are creating with their sound bites and negative campaigning cause six people to die in Tucson? Same answer no, but it sure does not help anyone.

There is no easy cause-effect relationship here no matter how hard the talking heads on the left and the right try to convince us there are.

Do these things help, hell no! But crazy has a way of finding something to latch on to and make it’s own. It always has, and it’s only after the event that the media throws their arms up and the politicians move in to score points.

Dressing in a trench coat did not cause Columbine, just dressing up in camouflage had nothing to do with the Hungerford massacre in the UK. In no way is Catcher in the Rye responsible for John Lennon’s death, but that has never stoped people making the cause-effect link when it suits their point of view.

In each of these things, and countless thousands of incidents across the world someone unhinged found something to hold onto, something that they took and ran with. These people are sick, are not getting the help they need and unfortunately what they have to say (go look at what Jared Loughner, the Tucson shooter, had to say on YouTube there are links everywhere) is shockingly close to some of that being spewed by the extremists on talk radio (both left and right).

No one can look at Loughner’s YouTube rants and think “There is a balanced individual”, just as I don’t understand how people listen to some of the commentators out there and think the same thing. The crazies sound awfully close to mainstream some times.

I’m not saying Glen Beck is going to gun someone down, I am saying it makes it more difficult to separate the real crazies from those who play them in the media.

There are people in this world who do incredible good, yet the crazies yells far louder.

I’m going to give the last word to the Pima Country Sheriff Clarence Dupnik: “When you look at unbalanced people, how they respond to the vitriol that comes out of certain mouths about tearing down the government. The anger, the hatred, the bigotry that goes on in this country is getting to be outrageous. And unfortunately, Arizona, I think, has become the capital. We have become the mecca for prejudice and bigotry.”

It makes me unreasonably happy to hear, but filming will start later this year on the next Bond film (number 23 in the Eon series, it’s complex), and Daniel Craig is signed on the play Bond once more.

I do like Craig’s version of Bond, I think it’s the closest to Ian Flemings Bond, slightly unsure, but outwardly cocky. It’s an interesting twist when compared to previous actors to play the role. Sean Connery may be the classic movie Bond (and I’d not argue that), but Craig may be the best Ian Fleming Bond.

The film will hit the theaters in November 2012, fifty years after the first Bond film, Dr No. This will be my 14^th Bond movie in the theaters, first was The Spy That Loved Me in 1977, and I’ve not missed one since. I really stoked at this.

OK, this picture a day thing has made it to day 11 (like anyone noticed), it’s been fun to look for something new each day.

Some are showing what’s going on, others may illustrate stories and some I may try to get creative with (or as creative as an manufacturing engineer gets) and have some fun.

Today’s illustrates part of a story, I’ll fill in the details some time, but it has been an illuminating day.

I was unpacking and cleaning up the mess last week and came across an envelope my mother gave me a few years ago. I was surprised to see my school reports for primary (or elementary in the US) and secondary (equivalent of high) school.

I’ve always said that I was an underachiever in most subjects at school and every report that came home said “could try harder” in some way somewhere in it.

I picked one at random and thought it would be fun to share it.

This is from my second year at Bishop Reindorp Secondary school in Guildford. It was a Church of England run, publically funded school and I went there for four years. My school reports were made up of two grades for each subject:

• Performance (A-High standard through to E-Finds great difficulty)
• Effort (1-Excellent, uses own initiative through to 5-Little or no effort made)

So A-1 would be the best, E-5 the worst.

I do not think I ever got an E-5 during my four years at Reindorp, but looking through my second year report I did get an E-4 in Spanish. The report card reads “He puts no effort into his work and never actively participates in lessons. He has made very little progress this year.” The teacher was Mrs Perez-Pinto, I recall her being a rather imposing woman who had her favorites and those on the shit list. I’m sure I was on the poop list for some slight over the two years I took classes with her (this was my second and final year of Spanish, and my second year with her), I don’t recall a particularly supportive teacher and I’m pretty sure that played a part in my lack of motivation, which was very real by the way.

I have always struggled with languages (including the Queens English and the bastardized version of English that I’m immersed in now) and had to work really hard to be even remotely fluent in German at college.

Of the other 13 pages in the report card 9 of them are pure average C-3 (C-Average student, 3-Does satisfactory work).

Comments include

• “Worked steadily and sensibly this year” in what was probably a rather generous C-2 in English
• “If he wishes to make the necessary effort he could achieve much from his studies in Biology” in another above average C-2 there from Miss Lemon
• “Satisfactory years work” and a C-3 in Chemistry
• David’s work is usually of a satisfactory standard, he could have achieved a better result had he applied himself” Physics this time, and another C-3
• “A pleasing exam result, impressive and I’d like to see that standard reflected in his term work” my best result of the year with a B-2 in Geography, that was a subject that always engaged me and the teachers I had (Mr Taylor and Miss Croker in the subsequent two years) did an exceptional job in motivating me.
• “I feel that with more application David would do better” and another C-3 in History.
• “While his exam result surprised me, he could do so much better in this subject if he really applied himself”, a bit of a backhanded compliment in Religious Education there from Miss Pugh. This was not a subject I could take seriously, so I may claim a bit of over achievement here with another C-3!
• “David has shown satisfactory progress”, not shockingly another decidedly average C-3 in music.

This was fun looking at a school report from 28 years ago. It was not my best year of school and I was a very average, almost anonymous student through out. Of the teachers I had I believe Jane Croker is still teaching at the same school (now Christ Church College, Guildford), she taught me geography for the next two years and really engaged me in subject, to this day it’s something of a passion that comes from school and Dad, and left me wanting to explore the world.

I stand by my “could try harder” mantra, I think it’s reflected in this school report. I may open up the following years one evening and see what changed.

I had one of those “moments” a couple of days ago, I was filling in my expenses and wondering why I don’t do a better job of preparing my recipts when I’m traveling with work. It passed eventually, but it was there for a long moment. I decided that I was ready once again to start acting like a proper mature, adult. Yeah I have “responsibilities” and I go to work every day, can act like a professional and think I do an OK job there.

However in the rest of life it’s not so simple. I’d like to get into the habit of doing adult things and be responsible. Don/t get me wrong, I may be in my 40’s, but I’m not going to take it too far. I’m not going to rush out and buy a pair of slippers or wander around the stores looking at cardigans and banning natural fibers from my wardrobe.

I mean stuff like emptying the dryer when it’s finished and putting away my clothes. Today I do rather use the dryer as my clean clothes hamper.  In my defense here I do own some stuff that needs dry cleaning (a baby step to my adult goal, even if it does take up laundry hamper space for a month or two before I actually get around to taking it), but other stuff tends to stay in the dryer until I need it, or there is another load to go in there.

When a “mature moment” strikes I pull out a pad of Post-its and start making lists. In reality I’m not a big list maker,

About the only time in real life I religiously make lists is when I’m working on the car. I’ll make big checklist, and tape it to the windscreen to refer to when I’m working on it, but that’s typically about it. I’ve lived with a very OCD list maker, and I’ve seen where lists can end. It can all get rather stair-counting nutty.

I have become disciplined about somethings, I’m good at clearing out my e-mail inbox, paying all my bills (and others bills I’ve been paying) on time.

To rush to my defense once more, I still have a convertible in the garage to go alongside my boring practical car. And have made exhaustive lists when taking on some big repair jobs that required significant concentration and precision. This concentration seems to rather leave me at other times, although I find grocery shopping without a list and impulse buying to be a far more interesting experience when thinking abou preparing dinner a couple of nights later

At the moment I am trying to decide what cool colour I’d like my convertable painted when I finish with the body work. Current choices are either McLaren orange with blue stripe, or British racing green with a classic white stripe… Decisions, decisions…

Back to the subject in hand. A few times a year, I spontaneously decide that I’m ready to be a real adult and become organized at work and at home. I start using my planner at work as it’s designed rather than an expensive note pad. I’m not sure what drives these moments of madness, it always ends terribly for me.  But I do it anyway.

Schedules are drafted, bills are filed, planners filled in, e-mail is read, spam filters created and today I actually read a cookbook and make lists for the grocery store.

I prepare for my new life as an adult in the same way Mormons prepare for the second coming. With a level of rather nauseating self-congratulation and thoroughness.

I think I know how this is going to go, for the first day or two of my plans usually goes okay. At work, my planner lists my meetings, what time they start and even what room they are in (an achievement others may be envious of). I start to feel all-superior, then sooner or later (OK, sooner) it goes pear shaped.

After a couple of days I open the fridge and am almost surprised by the pile of food in there. Then I realize can’t remember what the new recipe was that I wanted to stretch myself with this particular exotic vegetable that’s going brown around the edges.

For a few days I am Mr. Organized and feeling all smug about my new found ability to actually have the number to dial into a conference call in hand. After a few days of this madness is that I completely wear myself out. I may slack off for a little, figure that the documentary about the sub-Saharan salt trade is more important then emptying the dishwasher, and there is no way to recover as I start procrastinating.

The procrastination leads to feeling guilty about the procrastination and next thing I know I’m back to sitting on the sofa wearing a Bart Simpson “underachiever and proud” t-shirt, because that was all that was clean and in the wardrobe this morning…

The game is full of moments both great to many and utterly insignificant to most. Rickki Vilas goal against City, Liverpool winning the European Cup in Istanbul, Beckham scoring against Greece in injury time, Gerard’s hat trick against Germany (Oh, that night in Munich, it’s sad that it’s a dacde since England had somehting that big to celebrate, France and Bulgaria at St James Park in Euro 96, Aldershot beating Wolves on a rainy Saturday evening, Seattle winning the Open Cup at home or going out on Younge Street with the Tartan Army after a meaningless friendly between Scotland and Canada in Toronto.

These are nights I will never forget, strangers hugged, tears shed and suffering shared all in the name of the game. And if you love this game, you’d better know how to suffer, ‘cause you do a lot of that as a fan.

It’s easy to declare yourself a Manchester United fan, buy the shirt and switch on Fox Soccer Channel on a Sunday morning and bask in the reflected glory. No emotional investment, no need to visit Manchester or even able to pick it out on a map (with apologies to Rob, who can actually find Manchester on a map).

To really support a club you have to emotionally invest yourself, and I do believe that often the club picks you and when it happens there is not much you can do about it. A friend is a Burnley supporter, he’s got no idea why, he just does. Last year he and his wife went to a game while on holiday in England. I can’t imagine what he had to do to sell his better half on a trip to Lancashire to watch the Clarets play.

I’m still not sure how I ended up as a Coventry City supporter, certainly not the infamous shit-brown away strip they had one year. It may have been the FA cup win in ’87, not because of the win but maybe because it was the best cup final I’ve ever seen. Equally it could have been some long forgotten moment of brilliance on Match of the Day.

I’ve been to plenty of Coventry City games at Highfield Road when I lived there, and once to the new Ricoh Arena long after I moved out. I’ve seen Robbie Keene, Dion Dublin, Gary McAllister, John Salako, Darren Huckerby, Wee Gordon Strachen grace Highfield Road with some great football and moments of brilliance. To be fair, for each moment of brilliance there were five 1-0 losses in the rain and mud of January and February, but through those losses and crap games I think I’ve earned the right to say I know what suffering is.

That experience in Coventry is one of the things that’s made this last couple of years with the Sounders so special, I appreciate all the more supporting a club that is competitive and wins things. I’ve never seen a side I’m emotionally invested in win a major trophy at home before the open cup win this year, it’s a rare event, a privilege to be there and the atmosphere was as good as I’ve ever experienced.

Even something as irrelevant as playing in the Greater Seattle Soccer League recreational division on a summers evening. Going for a drink after the game, reliving the moments, giving commentary and flipping each other crap about mistakes made and glory missed.

In all these cases it’s the people I shared the moment with make it so special. Brought together by the game for just a brief moment. Class, education, occupation, where you live, it all means nothing once you walk through the gates of the ground or the front door of the pub; it’s about us verses them and for the next 90 minutes (plus injury time) nothing else matters.

At it’s very best this is what sport can do. It is not about the overpaid players, records and massive TV contracts.

At its heart I believe its about community, celebrating the great and sharing the bad. Support any team and there is typically more bad than good, and appreciating the good times while they are happening is not always easy. But when you do capture that moment it is so much fun to be part of something that much bigger than you.

I may have learned how to suffer in silence following Coventry, but I know I’m not suffering alone. There are others afflicted by the same thing, maybe 25,000 of them on a good day at the Ricoh.

Perhaps the key to footballs brilliance lies in its fundamental simplicity: 22 men, two goals and a ball. The game is easy to understand, but when played well can be absolutely breathtaking to watch.

It’s not all about Beckham putting 5 feet of curve on the ball and beating the keeper from 30 yards out, as spectacular as that is. The beauty comes from a team working together, passing, moving the ball, speeding up and slowing the game as they look for a way to score.

Then there is the high drama that the game excels in providing. The highest of all drama involved Stuart Pearce. He missed a penalty in the World Cup Semi-final in Rome in 1990, six years later he had a chance at redemption against Spain at Wembley. At the end of extra time the score was level at 0-0. Remember, this was for a place in the last four at Euro 96.

It says so much about Pearce’s character that he clearly wanted the ball, he wanted to put it away and bury what had happened against Germany.

He did not place his spot kick, he blasted it, bottom right hand corner. The look on his face and his reaction to the England fans said everything. He had been living with the missed penalty in the World cup for six years and this was redemption. Zubizarreta was in the Spanish goal, a true world class keeper, but that afternoon he was facing more than just Stuart Pierce, he was up against the millions that remember the night in Turin. He had no chance.

These moments make the game so special. I was talking with dad about this a couple of days ago. He semi-joked that being and England supporter is about being let down. And he’s right, the great nights in England history are all long in the past. Arguably the most recent was that night in Munich, and that was almost a decade ago now. We are due, but so are many, many other supporters, and that emotional investment is what separates us.

At it’s very best the game is beautiful, it’s about a team working for each other. Bill Shankly referred to this as the right sort of socialism.

Today I got invited to a saki tasting at Umi in Belltown with a couple of friends, and even better we had a designated driver. Of course if we’ve gone as a far as Umi we really had to have some sushi to go with the saki.

A couple of flights of saki paired with a selection of nigri and a spicy tuna roll was a rather nice way to spend the afternoon.

Today I got the guys some stuff, including new dry food. After the incident when they ate $10 of smoked salmon (my mistake) I figured I should get some nice food for them. They are old and deserve it.

So after I opened the bag and poured it into the container Pud jumped in the drawer and was eating straight from the pile. I think we may have a winner, and it’s way cheaper than smoked salmon…

On Friday I got a bill for $613.35 from Frontier Communications. Interesting, it was in my name, but I had no idea who Frontier Communications are.

It turns out the bill was for a Verizon service. OK, I once had a Verizon cell phone, but that was a long time ago. When I moved into the house there was a large Verizon modem in the spare bedroom and a Verizon box of some kind on the wall of the garage. I’ve got to admit that with cleaning up urine, dog poop and being a fearless mouse killer I never thought to much more about the additional hardware.

I just got off the phone with Frontier Communications who own Verizon and the account was for internet, phone (the phone number was 425-XXX-9906, which was her number from years ago) and cable TV.

Service was started in my name in my house on April 21 and canceled on November 6^th.  I left her long before that and according to Sean in Frontier billing no payment has ever been made on this account. I wonder what WT deadbeat could have done that?

I then spoke to Frontier Communications Fraud Control department and they were very understanding of the situation. However one thing they did need was a police report concerning the identity theft so later today I will be heading off to the police station to file an identity theft report.

They did say that a monthly bill and multiple letters trying to get hold of me have been sent to the address and until today they have received no reply. Which is once again interesting as other bills have had been returned with “Not known at this address” written across them, yet strangely not these bills. It’s almost like she knew…

So she is not only running up bills in her name, which she then feels she does not have to pay, she is opening accounts in other peoples name and not paying them. I think the lying WT label fits more than ever.

Really, is it any wonder some of her friends aren’t returning her calls any more?

Once again I stand by every word written here.

Last night I was driving from the Eastside into Seattle to meet some friends for Sushi and of course the traffic on the bridge was awful.  Enjoyed a fun evening, are big pile of sushi and enjoyed a fun evening. On the way home I got rear-ended in the Land rover. The Honda that hit me was far worse off, but no one was hurt, after all he hit a Land Rover with a tow hitch. This morning I called the car insurance company to discover the policy was about to be canceled for non-payment.