"I am a Blogger"

Four hours, 46 minutes and 36 seconds.

60 blogs.

Late Friday night, someone from Los Angeles took nearly five hours out of their life to read the story of mine.

I hope it was Steven Spielberg.

Thanks to my new friend at sitemeter.com, I am able to follow the up-to-the-second traffic on my website and see who’s out there.

I’ve never tried heroin, but I can’t imagine it being any more addictive than that friggin website.

Friday night’s display absolutely blew me away.

Thankfully it has become somewhat of a regular occurrence for somebody new to check out a handful of my old blogs.

But 60?

Wow!

Good thing I don’t know who you are or you would have a new BFF.

For those of you who have never been unemployed, I don’t really expect you to truly understand the real feeling of being kicked in the gut.

I certainly didn’t understand it when I was told nearly twenty months ago that my services were no longer needed.

I certainly didn’t understand it nine months later when my contract ran out and I was no longer being paid to stay at home.

I certainly didn’t understand it week-after-week, month-after-month when all my “great contacts” got me nowhere.

But let me tell you, as someone who is beyond fortunate in life but beyond nowhere in my career, I understand it now.

I am SO ready for any piece of good news, even if I have to make it up.

Thankfully I have found a lot of things to keep me busy and for the most part keep me happy.

Working out, joining a band, coaching my kids, using expired coupons at the supermarket.

All of those things bring a sincere joy to my world, but a true celebration?  Not really.

The closest that I have to come to serenity now is what you are reading.

My blog.

The fact that hundreds of people go out of their way, every day, to read the voices in my head is something that brings a big ole smile to my face.

Watching as this unknown person from my former hometown read blog-after-blog on Friday night, committing five hours of their life to reading about mine, made me feel absolutely incredible.

As sweet (or pathetic) as this may sound, at one point Friday night I remember blurting out, “I am a blogger.”

And proud of it.

I realize blogging may not help pay for the kids’ college education.

And it may not do much for the car payment either.

But it does help me get out of the bed in the morning or in most cases gets me to bed way after my bed time.

In all of my years of working in the TV world, past tense, I never had the desire or the ego to put my face on camera.

I loved working behind-the-scenes, coming up with some creative idea so that somebody else better looking than me could deliver it.

Writing this blog has been the closest thing to coming out that I have ever experienced.

When it was truly an anonymous blog, I felt incredibly comfortable saying whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted.

I had no hesitation in talking about my good days AND my bad days.

I had no hesitation in talking about anything.

Especially when I heard from so many people around the world who have truly connected with my story and inspired me to keep going.

But now that there are a group of people who know who I am, including a growing list of friends in-and-out of my former profession, that is a little more challenging.

After all, I don’t want to hurt my reputation.

Ha.

I’ve got my lawyer friend reminding me that, “maybe you shouldn’t say that.”

I’ve got a TV friend saying, “you never know who is going to read this in the future.”

I’ve got my daughter telling me, “I hope LeBron doesn’t read that blog.”

And deep down, they are all right, I suppose.

But the bottom line for me is after 43 plus years of life, I have finally connected with something that makes me happy.

Not as happy as using those expired coupons, but happy.

When one of my closest friends forwarded my LeBron blog to another friend who posted on his Facebook page, I nearly fainted.

And not in a good way.

OMG!

What if somebody finds out that I think LeBron is a bum.

Wait a minute, WHAT IF somebody new reads my blog.

What if.

That would be cool.

DEAR LEBRON

I realize that this is not a sports blog, but it will be today.

If you are not interested in my opinion on the LeBron James story, you’ve got a 123 other entries to choose from.

If you are looking for a little love with your white wine, try this one:

http://myjourney-unemployed.blogspot.com/2010/02/book-of-love.html

Or if you are looking for something sweet, give this a spin:

http://myjourney-unemployed.blogspot.com/2010/03/one-degree-of-separation.html

Ok, now to our lead story:

Dearest LeBron,

I cannot remember the last sports story that brought out this much emotion in me.

And honestly, I’m not really sure if I can truly connect with those emotions.

But I’ll give it a try.

On one hand, I applaud you for making winning your #1 priority in choosing Miami over Cleveland.  

Or New York.  

Or Chicago.

If that’s in fact what you really did.

On every other hand, I am disgusted by you.

I must disclose that my mother comes from Cleveland, so there is no question that I speak from a somewhat biased perspective on this one.

But the bottom line is, did you really need a one-hour infomercial to announce that you were breaking up with the city of Cleveland?

The state of Ohio.

The bizillion fans who believed until last night that you were actually a good guy.

And please stop with the “I took less money to go to Miami.”

First of all, you will be getting paid $110 million over the six years to play a game.

In South Beach.

$110 Million!

Unemployment pays me like $450 a week.

Please don’t bring up the money.

And oh by the way, you made $90 Million from Nike before you ever played a game in the NBA.

I’ve got news for you LeBron, you will never ever do anything EVER again for the money.

PLEASE don’t ever bring up the money again.

You are right, it wasn’t about the money.

As for how you treated the Cavs...

I just heard that one in every four households in Cleveland watched your big announcement last night.  

That's too bad.  

I'm sure you were hoping to hurt everyone there.

I’m not sure if your former boss Dan Gilbert, the owner of the Cavs, was one of those watching your three-ring circus last night, but I'm sure he heard about your decision.

Unfortunately it wasn’t from you.

Did you owe him a call?   Owe?  Perhaps not.

Should you have given him a call?   Yes.

Did you give him a call?   NO!

If for no other reason to appear to be a good guy, you could have done a whole lot of damage control by giving Gilbert a call before you made the announcement.

Or even a text.

Or a tweet.

Or a poke.

Or something.

If I heard correctly, you were playing in a charity softball game the night before this decision was announced.

Was that practice for the softball questions that you were going to get from the guys wearing the microphones for ESPN?

Unfortunately practice didn't make perfect.

You struck out.

I watched every single second of the broadcast and almost every second of the show after the broadcast.

Until I started gagging.

There was no way I was going to miss it.

But to paraphrase the late great announcer Jack Buck, I couldn’t believe what I just saw.

I cannot believe that somebody, who claims to be the King, is going to give up a two-thirds of his crown to join somebody else’s monarchy.

From day one, you’ve made no secret about the fact that Michael Jordan is your mentor, your hero, a major influence in your life.

Well as somebody who has lived the game of basketball for the last 35 years, I’m afraid to tell you, you will never be like Mike.

There is NO WAY Michael Jordan would’ve signed with the Lakers to play WITH Magic Johnson and James Worthy.

And there is NO WAY that Michael Jordan would’ve signed with the Celtics to play WITH Larry Bird and Jerry Sichting.

What made and still makes Michael Jordan the greatest of all-time is that when he came into the game, Magic and Larry were still wearing those short shorts, playing on the big stage every night.

Michael came in, grabbed the game by the throat and took the crown away from them.

He didn’t take the easy way out.

He didn’t Rosie Ruiz a championship.

He made B.J. Armstrong a champion.

You could’ve done the same, but you didn’t.

The reason that Kobe Bryant wanted a fourth title so bad wasn’t because he needed a ring to match the one he gave his wife.

It was because he needed a ring that didn’t have Shaq’s name on it.

IF you win a championship in Miami with your good pals, and I pray to the Gods of Mark Price & Larry Nance that you don’t, it will come with an asterisk the size of Barry Bonds skull.

Nobody and I mean NOBODY will respect you for bringing two bullies to the bike rack with you at 3 O’clock to beat up the President of the Science Club.

There would’ve been nothing sweeter in your life than winning a championship with the Cleveland Cavaliers.

Or even the Los Angeles Clippers.

Insert joke here.

I’m glad that your mother played such an important role in helping you accept your decision to (not) take the money and run.

I wish she would’ve added that taking the easy way out is no way to go through life.

Let me tell you LeBron, I love watching you play the game of basketball.

When it is all said and done, you may go down as the greatest basketball player of all-time.

Just like Alex Rodriguez may go down as the greatest baseball player of all-time.

Or Tiger Woods.

Or O.J. Simpson.

Congratulations LeBron.

You just joined a club that you will be in forever.

The heat is on.

Good luck buddy.

You’ll need it.

Show Me The Money

Merry NBA Christmas!

This is the day that basketball fans all over the world have been waiting for.

Today, some of the top names in the game are finally “free” agents.

Players like LeBron James and Dwyane Wade, Chris Bosh and Joe Johnson, Dirk Nowitzki and Paul Pierce.

And the list goes on for a bunch of others who will be getting wined and dined in the ultimate rush party.

The name of this fraternity is The Millionaire March.

Or in the case of LeBron James, The Billionaire March, with a B.

King James has always said that he wants to be the first athlete to reach ten figures.

He definitely got off to a good start, signing a $90 million dollar deal with Nike before ever playing a game in the NBA.

And now is his chance to really cash in.

LeBron’s hometown Cavaliers can offer him the most amount of money, about $127 million over six years.

If he signs somewhere else, he could get $97 million over five years.

Now I am all for people making as much money as they possibly can, but let's break this down for a moment.

Calculator please.....

Let’s assume that LeBron gets a deal for $100 million.  (Easy math always wins.)

The average annual salary for a worker in the United States in 2008 was $41,334.97.  (Or $40k for our exercise.)

In his first seven years in the NBA, LeBron averaged about 3,600 minutes of game action, including the playoffs.

So........

• When LeBron gets the $100 mil, that means he will make in eight minutes what the average American makes in a year.

Now don’t get me wrong, LeBron is one of the best players in the league and one of the best players of this generation.

But $5500 per minute great?

In case you were wondering, minimum wage is 12 cents per minute.

I’m just sayin.

When I was working, I was one of the lucky ones with plenty of access to free tickets.

I went to more games than you can play at the county fair.

But it was always on the house.

Not anymore.

Now if I want to go, it’s coming out of my pocket.


Or the kids' college fund.

And that decision costs a lot of dollars and makes no sense.

According to the the NBA’s Fan Cost Index, the average cost for a family of four, and we are five, to attend a game in 2009 was $289.87.

Or as LeBron calls it, a three second violation.

Of course for that $289.87, you get two beers, four soft drinks, four hot dogs, two game programs, two caps, parking and I’m guessing four seats in Section Nose Bleed.

The average price for an NFL game is $412.

The average price for a Major League Baseball game is $197.

Now I’m not making any type of political statement here, I’m just giving you the facts.

If you’ve got the money and want to spend it on going to a game, I think you should.

If you don’t got the money or don’t want to spend it on going to a game, then I think you shouldn’t.

You make the call.

But how in the world did this get so out of control?

And who in the world can afford those prices?

Once a year, Parade magazine produces a special issue of what people make.

A few weeks ago, they had their 2009 edition.

A 911 dispatcher from New Hampshire made $67,000.

A teacher’s aide from Wisconsin made $19,800.

A social worker from North Dakota made $58,200.

A receptionist from Oregon made $23,500.

A police sergeant from Alabama made $67,500.

A firefighter from Arkansas made $45,000.

A parole officer from New York made $63,700.

A paralegal from Washington DC made $39,000.

A truck driver from Minnesota made $91,400.

A bus driver from Illinois made $67,000.

A registered nurse from Utah made $71,000.

A pediatrician from Maryland made $47,000.

A factory worker from Indiana made $29,800.

A state representative from Mississippi made $42,000.

A funeral home director from Pennsylvania made 6,300.

A letter carrier from Oregon made $54,200.

A UPS driver from California made $80,000.

A coal miner from West Virginia made $60,000.

A janitor from Montana made $39,800.

A car salesman from Florida made $60,000.

A barista from Rhode Island made $20,000.

Those 21 people earned a combined $1,112,200 in 2009.

Or as LeBron would say, a five-game road trip.

Something just doesn't smell right.