“Jungle Life. We’re Living in the Open.”

Posted on May 9, 2026 by Double K

“All alone, like Tarzan’s boy.” – Baltimora

For years I’ve tried to lure Baltimore Orioles into my backyard. Not Gunnar Henderson or Jackson Holliday in some childish fanboy plot to become best friends. No, the actual orange and black birds, Icterus Galbula. But for years, for whatever reason, these beauties have eluded my best laid schemes and plans.

I have a bright orange oriole feeder I bought probably six years ago designed to attract them (they are drawn to the color orange much like hummingbirds are drawn to the color red). I did once see a male oriole several years ago lurking by the orange feeder, which then led me to constantly day after day set out oranges and jelly only to be disappointed day after day. Last weekend I saw the old oriole feeder gathering dust in the shed with some of my other feeders, but I shut the door and just left it in there not wanting to go to the trouble of being disappointed again. On Monday however, I was at one of my favorite local stores – Wild Birds Unlimited, buying seed for, you know, the birds that actually appreciate me and like visiting my backyard. Props to you cardinals and blue jays and finches and chickadees and tits and woodpeckers and the like! Anyway, one of the young workers who was politely chatting me up said “you know, people are seeing a lot of orioles around here this spring.” I nodded and smiled politely while thinking, “other people, not me, bucko.”

Now for you non-birders, orioles typically spend our North American winter months lying on the Central and South American beaches, surfing the cool ocean breezes, and discussing the latest disappointing Baltimore Orioles season. I’m just guessing. They begin their journey back north into the U.S. just in time for baseball spring training and begin showing up in Arkansas in mid-April. Some stay a few days to refuel before heading further north, and some just stay. Many will spend the summer months in Arkansas where it is considered a suitable breeding ground and a high ranking place amongst orioles to raise an oriole family (I’m guessing again) before departing back south in the later part of the summer.

Anyway, when I got home Monday evening after work I thought again about what I heard at the store. And as the Big Man up above kindly does, he nudged me to go outside, get the old oriole feeder out of the shed, clean it off, and load it with some oriole-approved, non high fructose corn syrup jelly. (Sidebar: hey, don’t give the orioles high fructose corn syrup jelly, but by golly if you want slop a ton of the high fructose kind on your large PB&J (which ironically I did this afternoon), then go for it! This is where I would insert that wide eyes emoji if I cared to figure out how to do it). So I got it out of the shed, cleaned it off, put some jelly in the cup, hung it up, and then went to bed.

Like a kid on Christmas morning hoping for packs and packs of smokes… kidding… packs and packs of baseball cards, my first action Tuesday morning was to look out the window. Well, needless to say, five days later (as of this writing), there have been times I have seen five or six orioles out on the feeder at once – males, females, young males, young females, they’re all “ready for this jelly.”

They have been here everyday since Tuesday and I am constantly looking out the window like I’m Jimmy Stewart housed up in a wheelchair. I’m sitting by our rear window as I write this post watching and listening. Listening for their tunes and their now familiar “chatter.” Hey batter batter, swing batter! Let’s go boys. Let’s turn two! I’m fascinated and enjoy hearing their noises and watching their actions. They’ll hang upside down. They fight over food. They are very aware and scatter at the slightest movement by me on the backporch or even inside the house looking out moving by the window.

If Jesus had ever said, when you die, you will become a bird in the afterlife then I should think an oriole would be as good of a choice as any. With strikingly beautiful colors (particularly the males who are the ones blessed with the good looks in the bird world), powerful wingstrokes, and the bonus fact that they devour oranges, jelly, and sugar for several months during breeding season much like an eight year old me subsisting on a steady diet of powdered donuts and Lucky Charms cereal.

It’s not all-sugar all-the-time as the orioles’ diet does change to insects more during the summer months when raising their young, but for a few months every spring and fall, I could handle this diet of jelly and oranges. Of course jelly and oranges are not free and as of this writing I’ve cleared about two and half jars of jelly and three-four oranges. Much like a child or dependent, they don’t much care about your pocketbook and I am fairly certain that they will leave if the food supply chain runs out regardless of all that I have done for them the past four-five days.

But I guess thems the breaks when you’re running a well renowned neighborhood aviary. Go birds!

“Hide-and-seek, we play along while rushing ‘cross the forest
Monkey business on a sunny afternoon”

The short-lived 80’s group Baltimora was a duo comprised of Maurizio Bassi, a music producer and musician from Italy, and Jimmy McShane, a native of Northern Ireland. The two decided to form an act fronted by McShane, a trained singer, dancer and actor. The story goes that McShane and Bassi chose the name Baltimora when, one evening together, McShane took a map of the United States, closed his eyes and happened to place his finger on Baltimore, changing the final letter to an ‘a’ to make the name more in keeping with the act’s Italian roots.

Baltimora had just three studio albums during their time active from 1984-1987. Released in 1985 today’s song charted inside the top 5 in many European countries and peaked at #13 in the U.S. Baltimora was widely regarded as a one-hit wonder with this song, which is often considered one of the most annoying songs and videos from the 80’s. Here is Baltimora and “Tarzan Boy”…

Thanks for stopping by!

sincerely,

the80s

Ps. 19:1 The heavens proclaim the glory of God. The skies display his craftsmanship.

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“May Good Fortune Be With You”

Posted on May 3, 2026 by Double K

“May your guiding light be strong.” – Rod Stewart

The man is 81. The man continues to tease his signature spiky blonde locs. And the man is still producing quality tour shows.

I’ve used Rod Stewart’s music several times on this site including this particular song in a post about graduations in May of 2017, so I am reposting a link to that one below along with this video I shot just a few weeks ago of that timeless 1988 hit. Performed almost halfway through his 24 song performance that evening, here is an extended version of the song (allowing for one of Rod’s wardrobe changes), and the one and only Rod Stewart remaining “Forever Young…”

“Be Courageous and Be Brave”

May good fortune continue to be with you Sir Rod Stewart. Thank you for your work and in particular thank you for this 80’s anthem.

sincerely,

the80s

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“If You Believe in Forever”

Posted on March 23, 2026 by Double K

“Then life is just a one night stand” – The Righteous Brothers

After I turned 21 sometime along the summer of 1992 my dad took me on my first trip to Las Vegas. He and my mom took many trips to Vegas. It was where they spent their honeymoon and where they would return to many times through the years often with their best friends, Jerry and Laura Beth Jobe. But this time was just the two of us, and we spent a couple of days eating good food and working the blackjack tables. My mom had “loaned” me several hundred dollars because I was just a broke college kid at the time. We stayed at his favorite hotel – Caesar’s and he also bought tickets to two shows while we were there. One was Frankie Valli. The other show was The Righteous Brothers.

My dad loved The Righteous Brothers. He had lost track of how many times he had seen them perform over the years. His first time, he remembered, was in the early to mid 60’s shortly after the duo of Bobby Hatfield and Bill Medley formed the group. Even back in 1992, it was a time when you could still slip the usher some money and he would move you to a better table closer to the stage. So I remember my dad giving the usher 20 bucks and he took us to a table about three or four rows from the stage like we were big shots. I think I was in a rum and Coke phase at the time and may have had a few that night while my dad enjoyed his traditional Crown and Coke during the show. The duo performed their hits and my dad and I gave them a standing ovation after the show concluded.

The Righteous Brothers formed sometime around 1963 but split up shortly thereafter in 1968 when Bill Medley and his baritone voice left for a solo career. The pair reunited in 1974 and had this comeback hit, which I distinctly remember blaring from my parents’ old phonograph stereo system at our house when I was very young. Mostly known for “Unchained Melody” and “You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling,” this song was really their last hit peaking at #3 on the U.S. charts back in 1974.

Back in a time when you didn’t need the top half of the buttons on your dress shirt, Bobby and Bill were still vocally at the top of their games. Hatfield passed away in 2003 but Medley still performs that “blue-eyed soul” to this day at the age of 85. My dad would have been 86 today and so I like to think he’s up above holding Medley’s place while he sings all of those songs he loved so much while on this earth alongside Bobby Hatfield. I don’t know whether all of the artists they mention in today’s song are up there culminating in “a hell of a band,” but I do know that as much music and singing as there is in the Bible that our heavenly Father surely can appreciate the gifts he bestowed upon many including these two, appropriately called The Righteous Brothers.

From their comeback in 1974, here they are with “Rock and Roll Heaven.”

I believe in forever and happy birthday, dad.

sincerely,

the80s

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“The Past is Gone”

Posted on February 24, 2026 by Double K

“It went by like dusk to dawn.” – Aerosmith

Nearly 72 hours later, I still cannot get enough.

If you’ve seen or heard enough already, feel free to skip this unabashedly, completely biased patriotic post, because I’m just unleashing patriotic jubilation onto my keyboard. My algorithm on Insta and Facebook and YouTube confirm it as well. I cannot get enough of the U.S.A. hockey win over Canada. Both wins. Both against Canada. The U.S. women with a 2-1 win thanks to Megan Keller’s gold medal winner in sudden death overtime.

I cannot get enough of Matt Boldy’s unbelievable first goal in the American mens’ gold medal win over Canada, also 2-1, also in sudden death overtime on Sunday morning. I can’t get enough of all of the stops by U.S. goalie Connor Hellebuyck. And of course, I can’t get enough of Jack Hughes poking the loose puck forward in overtime, hanging back, receiving a perfect pass from Zach Werenski, and delivering a gold medal winner past Canadian goaltender Jordan Binnington. I can’t get enough of the shot, the call on broadcast, all of the angles, all of the celebrations, and as a person who loves sports, I don’t even particularly care for watching hockey.

But at 9:55 a.m. CST Sunday morning, after two plus tense hours that began shortly after dawn, I leapt from my couch with new favorite player names and wishing I too had gloves and a helmet and a stick to throw into the air in celebration. The 24 year old Jack Hughes, missing bits and pieces of a few white chiclets inside his mouth had just sent red, white, and blue fans into a frenzy. I watched the scene unfold like a future Disney movie – the reactions, the hugs, the smiles, the American flags waving wildly, and then, just a few minutes after Jack Hughes’ gold medal-winning goal, I left for church.

I was eight years old the last time the U.S. men won hockey gold at the Olympics. I don’t really remember it, but somehow I felt a like an eight year old again Sunday morning when Hughes took that pass from Werenski and proceeded to blast the winning shot past Binnington. And just like that, 46 years to the day, the U.S. hockey team had won gold again and fans everywhere rejoiced. I thought about the 8, 9, 10 year olds in America who had just witnessed one of the greatest hockey games in Olympics history and were inspired to be part of the next wave of great American hockey players.

Goalie Connor Hellebuyck was unbelievable in defense and was widely regarded as the best player on the ice Sunday morning. He made saves on 41 of 42 Canadian shots on goal including this one that might only be reasonably explained by divine intervention.

Sing with me, if it’s just for today
Maybe tomorrow the good Lord will take you away

On my short drive to church, I thought about the celebration and the hugs and the flag waving and I thought that’s what Heaven might look like someday – flags of glory, music and singing, hugs, joy… only on streets of gold instead of frozen water.

The team honored their late teammate, Johnny Gaudreau, by hanging his jersey in the locker room as further inspiration. “Johnny Hockey” was an all-star, and regarded as a missing piece of the U.S. hockey brotherhood over the past two weeks. Johnny and his younger brother Matthew were killed by a drunk driver while riding bicycles in 2024. The Gaudreau family – his parents, his wife, and his two young children were on hand for the victory. Did I get teary-eyed watching the team carry the two little Gaudreau kids onto the ice for the team photo? Wouldn’t you?

Now, it’s back to the algorithm. Back to the Tkachuk brothers, Johnny Hockey, Connor Hellebruyck’s stoning, Matt Boldy’s incredible goal, and of course Jack Hughes’ game winning, gold medal shot, and that toothless smile.

USA! USA! USA!

“Dream on, dream on
Dream on, dream on.”

From the 1973 album, “Aerosmith,” and also from the 2004 “Miracle” movie soundtrack about the 1980 U.S. hockey team, it’s the Boston band, Aerosmith with their very fitting classic, “Dream On”…

Do you still believe in miracles?

I do.

Your old men will dream dreams and your young men will have visions.

Dream until your dreams come true. The boys in red, white, and blue did.

sincerely,

the80s

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“Unicorns and Cannonballs”

Posted on November 8, 2025 by Double K

“Palaces and piers. Trumpets, towers, and tenements. Wide oceans full of tears” – The Waterboys

I like Barnes & Noble. It feels like a family member. Maybe like the wise likable uncle who has always been there – observing, listening, chronicling, dreaming. He stands still holding a cup of coffee watching a busy and chaotic world rush by, but occasionally reminding you – ‘Hey, I’m still here if you need anything‘ – a standing open invitation to come, sit, walk, rest, study, converse, remember.

I like to wander the store taking note of the people. Young purple-haired mothers reading their children books in the kids area, conservatively dressed proper widows buying gifts up front, young men in the self help section searching for meaning, and middle-aged grey-haired observers like me wandering the aisles… not unlike this post. I’m kind of wandering right now, or maybe meandering is more suited to this post.

Barnes & Noble has been in existence of some sort since Charles Barnes had a book business in Illinois in 1873. His son, William, partnered with Clifford Noble and they opened the first Barnes & Noble in NYC in 1917. Like any 100+ year-old family member though, the retailer has had it’s share of highs and lows, bustling prosperity combined with humbling moments that surely considered a world without large corporate-owned book stores. Under new private ownership since 2019 (Elliott Management Group), B&N has seemingly caught wind in their sails again having opened between 50-60 new stores per year the past two years, and though I do enjoy supporting the small mom and pop used book stores, I do find the existence and the ease of this large retail bookstore to be comforting.

Yes, you climbed on the ladder
With the wind in your sails
You came like a comet
Blazing your trail

Browsing the aisles a few days ago, I picked up Matthew McConaughey’s latest book published in September of this year titled “Poems and Prayers.” I flipped it open and read only one page. That page is all I needed to finish this post which has had this particular song bouncing around in my head for weeks. Maybe I’ll read other pages in the future, but this is all I needed for now:

I saw the rain-dirty valley
you saw Brigadoon

Born and raised in Edinburgh, Mike Scott formed the Scottish group known as The Waterboys in 1983. He has been the only constant member over the years of a band typically comprised of members from the UK and Ireland. I didn’t listen to The Waterboys in the 80’s, and honestly this song and this group easily slipped by my hair-metal, rap, top-40-focused teenage eyes back then. But, because of that narrow focus, it became a wonderful thing some 40 years later when discovering or perhaps “stumbling” upon this beautiful song.

Not an especially big chart success when it was originally released in 1985 off of The Waterboys’ “This is the Sea” album, the re-release in March of 1991 saw it achieve more accolades and numerous covers of the song subsequently followed through the years. The song is an incredible arrangement of instruments featuring a trumpet, synthesizer, an electric violin, and a saxophone solo at the end of the song that screams “80’s!” The lyrics by Scott are vast and wondrous, well conceived and apparently a composition and ode to many artists and writers and deep thinkers throughout history.

I saw the crescent, but you saw the whole of the moon.

And so maybe another reason I enjoy Barnes & Noble is because in there I am surrounded by inspiration. Enclosed by names on book sleeves and album covers and art designs by people who didn’t just see the crescent, but for a time and a place, like Mike Scott in 1985, they too saw “The Whole of the Moon”…

Go create something.

sincerely,

the80s

I too thought I saw the whole of the moon back in the late 70’s and early 80’s. Turns out it was just The Death Star.

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“But I’m Here in My Mold”

Posted on September 20, 2025 by Double K

“I am here in my mold” – The Verve

For the majority of his 37-year life, Clayton Edward Kershaw has been in the mold of an elite baseball pitcher. For the last 18 years, it has been that of a paid professional pitcher for the Los Angeles Dodgers, where he has struck out over 3,000 batters and pitched to the tune of a 2.54 lifetime ERA – the lowest such in the “live ball era” excluding fellow Dodger and knuckleball pitcher, Hoyt Wilhelm who retired with a 2.52 ERA in 1972. But that long-lasting mold which has produced a lifetime of greatness is about to change for Kershaw as he took to the mound for his final home regular season start last night in Los Angeles (it’s possible he could make another home start or multiple ones depending upon how far the Dodgers advance in the playoffs). Now, other aspiring pitchers of a new generation will and already are trying to fit into the mold Clayton Kershaw is leaving behind.

Kershaw made his major league debut as a 20 year old on May 25, 2008. He was the youngest major leaguer at the time and threw six innings against the St. Louis Cardinals that day giving up two earned runs while striking out seven and walking just one batter on 102 pitches, a very Kershaw-esque statline. He finished last night’s effort by throwing 91 pitches over four and one-third innings while giving up two earned runs and striking out six. He struck out the Giants’ Rafael Devers, and then manager Dave Roberts came and got him.

I was lucky enough to see Kershaw pitch this year. Working his way back from injury, he had a rehab start for the Dodgers’ Double A affiliate, the Tulsa Drillers when they played the NW Arkansas Naturals (Kansas City’s Double A affiliate) just a few miles from my house. It was announced on the day so anyone paying attention could have easily bought a cheap ticket and had a good seat to watch a future hall of famer in action as you can see from these photos I took from about 10-15 rows up on the third base side. There were approximately 3,800 in attendance as Kershaw threw 60 pitches that night over three and two-thirds innings giving up four hits and one earned run while striking out four. He got a standing ovation when the manager pulled him out of the game in the fourth inning. It wasn’t because he pitched great. It was because he’d given over 17 years of his life to being one of the best baseball pitchers of all-time.

“I’ll take you down the only road I’ve ever been down.”

“That’s the cruel thing about baseball is that your career will be gone in an instant and the game keeps going. But that’s also the beautiful thing about it, too, is that this game doesn’t need anybody.” – Clayton Kershaw

A lifetime of memories built around a game. It’s really all that most professional athletes know. It’s what scares them and excites them all at the same time as they finish up their playing careers. It’s what motivates many of them to hang on at the end, many times well past their prime. The athletes need the the game more than the game needs them. Clayton Kershaw understands this better than anyone and has probably been pondering for days, weeks, months, maybe even years what life without pitching at the highest level is going to look like now that the game is finally discarding him like all of the nasty sliders he used in discarding overmatched hitters through the years. Maybe the game doesn’t need him, but the game has rarely had anyone as good as him.

Many lifelong hikers will tell you that the hike and journey in reaching the summit are easier than the descent back down. The time at the summit is very brief, and as Clayton Kershaw sat in the outfield last night during his pregame routine soaking in the sights, the sounds, the smells, all the feels from 18 years of triumph and tribulation, he knew it was time to descend back down the mountain. He may turn back on his way down for a few more glimpses of that summit he spent so many hours and weeks and years getting to as his Dodgers navigate their 2025 playoff path over the next several weeks in search of another World Series title, but as surely as the sun sets below the horizon so will Clayton Kershaw’s magnificent career. A one of one mold.

“Cause it’s a bitter sweet symphony, that’s life.”

Known for his consistent, precise routines throughout the week and especially on days he pitched, the road of Kershaw’s 18-year major league pitching routine are about to be replaced with something new and something different.

This song by The Verve was being played by the organist in Dodger Stadium as Kershaw made his way off the mound to a standing ovation in a place where memories have spun and dipped like the devastating slider he’s known for throwing to hitters over the last 18 seasons. It was an apropos song, as you would expect, contrasting the beauty of life with the harshness of reality.

Hitting the charts in 1997, The Verve became a household name in the States with this lead single from their album, “Urban Hymns.” It reached #2 in their home country and #12 in the U.S.

Sampling from an orchestral version of 1965’s Rolling Stones song “The Last Time” (a whole different story in itself), here is the unique sound of lead singer Richard Ashcroft and his band The Verve with their Grammy-nominated song and highly regarded video filmed in London and which helped define the “Britpop” era of the 90’s, “Bitter Sweet Symphony”…

Thanks for the soundtrack, Richard, and thanks for the memories, Clayton.

sincerely,

the80s

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“Do You Ever Seem to Have One of Those Days…”

Posted on August 11, 2025 by Double K

“…where everyone’s on your case? From the teacher all the way down to your best girlfriend?” – Motley Crue

As I write this, the first day of school is in effect in my area, and teachers all over are getting on the cases of children everywhere!

The first day of school. You remember don’t you? First day wardrobe decisions to make, car lines to navigate, crossing guards on patrol dressed in their finest brights, and young parents walking their children down the street and dropping them off for the beginnings of another school year.

My wife and I made that first day walk for six years with our daughter Caroline from kindergarten through 5th grade when she finished elementary school. We only lived a block from the elementary school so it was easy. We’d hold hands and walk our excited daughter to the school chatting all the way about being good for the teacher, listening more, talking less, and about being a good classmate. It was just a matter of minutes before we were there and taking her into the school, and ultimately into what would be her homeroom classroom for the next nine months.

The walk back home for my wife and I was a little quieter, and a little more reflective knowing that those times were precious and fleeting. Those walks were mere minutes and they’ve been followed by thousands of days that are now a blur. We have the pictures though, because that’s what you do on the first day of school, right? You’re either posing for the pictures or you’ve become the parent and you’re taking the pictures. It’s a first day right of passage fulfilled on the Facebook pages of proud parents and grandparents around the world at this point in our technology-driven lives.

But in the 80’s, oh those 80’s, you had a camera with actual film in it. You snapped a few pictures and the results were left to the Kodak gods after you drove your film to Walmart or a Kodak photo lab somewhere, filled out the owner information and sealed your film inside the special envelope. Then, you waited weeks to get a phone call from the photo lab saying your photos were in and then you drove to pay for and pick up your photos. It was all so very 1980’s inefficient!

Anyway, first day of school photos have probably been around a lot longer than just the 80’s, but I always thought Gen Xers like myself were likely the first kids to be publicly humiliated outside of our houses every first day of school. I have no actual proof, just a hunch, and photographs from a bygone era. Speaking of…

1st day of school, Norman, OK 1985 with my sister.. She hates these pictures with a passion because of her haircut. So, you’re welcome, sis!

Checking out the halls, making sure the coast is clear
Looking in the stalls, nah, there ain’t nobody here
My buddies, Sixx, Mick, and Tom
To get caught would surely be the death of us all

One guy that wasn’t smokin’ in the boys room in the 80’s is that stud in the picture above. BUT, I was just starting to really get into “heavy metal” music when Motley Crue released their album, “Theatre of Pain” in June of ’85. You can look at the picture above taken in August of 1985 and just tell I was into heavy metal music by my luxurious, dark, long, curly heavy metal hair in the back! Actually, I’m more likely the very definition of rocker meets banker when you combined my wild hair, the “crazy” shorts I’m wearing called “jams,” and the pristine white banker polo. I was a big Polo guy back in the day mostly because my mom thought I looked very nice in them so she stocked my wardrobe with several colors from Ralph Lauren.

My journey into hard rock had probably only begun about a year or two earlier with cassette purchases of Def Leppard’s “Pyromania” and Van Halen’s “Diver Down.” Motley Crue was still a little more “on the dangerous side” because their previous album from 1983 was called “Shout at the Devil” and I’m pretty sure anyone listening to that album around that time was high on drugs and probably going to Hell, except me of course. I never paid money for that particular album though, instead settling for a cassette copy someone made me. It wasn’t one of my favorite albums, but I played it several times and actually preferred “Looks That Kill” on that album. I didn’t listen to it a whole lot also for fear that mom would bust in my room with a “what are you listening to?” bewildered look on her face which in turn would lead to her shipping me off to a private Catholic school somewhere where the nuns would force me to listen to monks singing daily Latin chants as my only source of musical education.

Listening to dangerous music in the 80’s was a very real concern for teenagers, and there was no antagonist quite like the teacher.

Now, teacher, don’t you fill me up with your rule
‘Cause everybody knows that smoking ain’t allowed in school

I remember that we had smoking sections (or maybe just one particular section) at our high school, but I never really hung out with the smokers of the day. I had a few friends that would light up a cig on occasion, but it was never my thing, plus it was tough being an athlete running the basketball court with black lungs because you were chugging Marlboros all the time.

Released in June of 1985, this was Motley Crue’s first top 40 hit as it climbed all the way up to #16 on the U.S. Billboard Hot 100. A cover of the original performed by Brownsville Station in 1973, here is Vince, Nikki, Mick, Tommy and actor Michael Berryman portraying the principal as the Crue try to get their smoke on in “Smokin’ in the Boys Room”…

Thanks for reading, and go thank a teacher somewhere because you can read.

sincerely,

the80s

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“He Got the Action, He Got the Motion”

Posted on July 21, 2025 by Double K

“Yeah, the boy can play.” – Dire Straits

It’s no secret. I love live sporting events. There’s no better reality entertainment than sports. It’s why millions of us attend, tune into, and/or play them. Sure the lines are sometimes too long, the logistics stink, the weather is unpredictable, the parking, the crowds, the claustrophobia. But oh how sports can make us feel connected. They can make us feel alive. One can run the gamut of emotions – joy, sorrow, laughter, tears, and everything in between… sometimes in a matter of hours or minutes or even seconds.

A little over a week ago at America Family Field in Milwaukee, chalk another one up to the “this is why we love sports” column. It was my second trip to the ballpark for a Brewers’ game. The previous one ending in a loss to the Reds last summer. It seemed this time as if the baseball gods were going to send us home without a Brewers’ win once again after the Washington Nationals rallied for two runs in the 8th and one in the top of the ninth to take a 5-3 lead heading into the bottom of the ninth.

As a lifelong Cubs fan, I have no emotional currency invested in the Brewers, but I also care very little for the Washington Nationals. If at all possible when I visit a stadium, I try to always side with the home team. So, there I sat with my navy-blue Brewers cap on my head, my wife to my right, and my sister and brother-in-law, my 10-year-old nephew, and my 8-year-old niece in seats directly behind us.

Before the rally

Sending in their closer, Kyle Finnegan, to the mound my sister and brother-in-law debated slightly in between frames whether or not they should leave a little early to “beat the traffic.” Repeat after me: Never. Leave. Early. To my nephew’s credit, he was not on board with this plan at all, and he was holding steady. I would not have been surprised if his 10-year-old self would have melted down in front of hundreds just to remain in his seat for three more outs. I turned around and told him “get your rally hat on.” A quizzical look came across his face as he asked “what’s a rally hat?” I informed him of this long-standing ritual and the importance of the rally hat in dire circumstances like this. I told him there is no set way to do it – you can turn your hat inside out, backwards, sideways, sit it on top of your head like a shark – they all can work. So, we both decided upon the backwards Brewers’ cap as the home team came to bat in the bottom of the ninth.

Brewers’ stars Jackson Chourio and Christian Yelich pumped life into the stadium beginning the bottom of the ninth with an infield single and a walk respectively. The buzz level was growing. The lone Nationals’ fan sitting in the row in front of us was beginning to take heat from his family and friends after having spent the top of the 8th and top of the 9th in an over-the-top wild frenzy cheering on the Nationals mostly to annoy said friends and family.

Newly acquired first baseman Andrew Vaughn roped the first pitch he saw, a 97mph four-seam fastball, into the gap for a two-run double. The game was tied 5-5 and the crowd was the loudest it had been all day. The lone exception – yes, the aforementioned Nationals fan in the row in front of us.

Andruw Monasterio pinch ran for Vaughn and Jake Bauers pinch hit for Isaac Collins. Bauers grounded out, but Monasterio aggressively took third base on the throw to first base to get Bauers. The Nationals intentionally walked left-handed hitting Brice Turang to set up what they hoped would be an inning-ending double play and chose to pitch to the hot hitting right-handed hitting Caleb Durbin. Durbin watched a called strike, but then promptly laced the second pitch down the right field line for the game winning hit.

As the announcers like to say when the home team wins in their last at-bat, Durbin “walked it off,” And in unison, we all walked it off that day. We walked up the stadium stairs and through the stadium and out to our vehicles all the while slapping high-fives and fist-bumping random strangers on our way out. The only one not fist-bumping or high-fiving – the Nationals’ fan in the row in front of us who had scurried out of the stadium as quickly as possible much to the delight of his Brewers’ friends and family.

Ahh, the beauty of sports. The beauty of the rally cap. The beauty of a common cause culminating in a walk-off win together.

I’ll quote the late, great Jack Buck and say, “Go crazy, folks. Go crazy!” Here is Caleb Durbin doing the walk, doing the walk-off of life. Oh yeah, the boy can play.

And after all the violence and double talk
There’s just a song in all the trouble and the strife
You do the walk, yeah, you do the walk of life
Hmm, they do the walk of life

Whether 2025 or the release date of this song and video 40 years ago in 1985, there’s always going to be a song in all the trouble and the strife. There was trouble and strife in Milwaukee a few weeks ago, but the Brewers persevered. May you take heed from a simple game with a stick and a ball, may you persevere through your troubles and your strife, and may you do the walk of life.

Today’s classic choice hit #7 on the U.S. charts and #2 in the UK. With apologies to those of you who prefer “Money for Nothing,” this lively and upbeat song remains my favorite Dire Straits song. The video below with all of the vintage 80’s sports highlights (and lowlights) is also a reminder of some of our sports stars of the past. I always loved the video too, because it features one Larry Legend running onto the parquet floor of the 80’s Boston Garden.

Written by the red head-banded one, Straits’ frontman Mark Knopfler, let’s all do the “Walk of Life…”

Thanks for reading and may you have a walk-off win this week in whatever it is you are doing!

sincerely,

the80s

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“You Don’t Need Money. Don’t Take Fame.”

Posted on July 3, 2025 by Double K

“Don’t need no credit card to ride this train.” – Huey Lewis & The News

Was it just me, or did anyone else alive in 1985 think that in 40 years we’d be time-traveling for sure… with or without a flux capacitor? Just me? That’s fine, but hey Elon – less rocket ships and X rants, more time-machine research!

If you were a young teenager like I was on July 3rd 1985 when “Back to the Future” was released, 40 years mine as well have been a million years. I thought I’d never get to 16 and earn my driver’s license much less make it to 2025 where I would be writing this thing called a blog on this thing called the internet.

No, the days were not 24 hours long in 1985. God stopped the clock on many an occasion I was convinced. Much like our basketball team manager(s) would (shoutout Stevie Jones with the quick fingers) occasionally pause the timer on the scoreboard for just fractions of seconds so we could all complete certain conditioning requirements under the allotted time, I felt like God would do this to me as the days of the 80’s sometimes lasted 240 hours instead of the ridiculous 24 hour number we were brain washed into believing. Michael J. Fox was going to look like this forever, and I was never going to actually graduate from high school.

Now, sitting here in 2025 I’m kind of amazed that Marty McFly traveled back in time just 30 years to 1955. Filmed today, he would only go back to 1995, a good decade short from the movie’s original equivalent. Great Scott! Where has the time flown since Ronald Reagan, “the actor?!” and Jerry Lewis were running our country?

Alas, if I could go back to 1985, I’d probably take in a Huey Lewis & The News concert at some point since I’ve never seen them live and unfortunately never will since Huey no longer performs as he continues to battle Meniere’s Disease. The disease is an inner ear disorder that I guess has also led to a loss of his hearing which obviously affects his ability to hear music frequencies and hold vocal pitches.

The recent years and decades have also been difficult for Michael J. Fox as he valiantly battles onward hoping for a breakthrough of any kind against Parkinson’s Disease of which he was diagnosed back in 1991.

Lea Thompson recently was quoted as saying the original Back to the Future “is just the perfect screenplay.” The movie is definitely a top 10 favorite of the 80’s for me, and one which I’ll still watch from time to time whenever it magically appears on my television like a friendly voice from the past.

After changing lanes and removing Eric Stoltz from the Marty McFly role and going with their original choice, Michael J. Fox, it was just fortunate “density” that the movie would go on to become a huge success.

Written, produced, and directed by Robert Zemeckis and Bob Gale, the movie grossed over $380 million. This is the original trailer you might have witnessed had you been in a movie theater or possibly watching it on tv somewhere in the spring/early summer of 1985.

“The Power of Love is a curious thing. Make a one man weep. Make another man sing.”

This was the band’s first #1 hit on the Billboard Hot 100, and arguably their most famous song. Filmed at Uncle Charlie’s Nightclub in Corte Madera, Cali, it will keep you up at night. It’s “The Power of Love”…

Happy birthday America, and if you do have a time machine, hit me up, got a few things I need to change from the 80’s. Thank you.

sincerely,

the80’s

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“Sound of the Drums, Beatin’ in My Heart”

Posted on June 23, 2025 by Double K

“The thunder of guns, yeah
Tore me apart” – AC/DC

Yesterday (Sunday morning) just before church service began, our pastor’s wife came up to me and said something along the lines of it’s an important night tonight. For a moment I was caught off guard and a little confused. After a moment, I realized what she was saying and so I simply asked her to pray for thunder, pray specifically for THE Thunder right around 7 pm CST Sunday night.

Well, prayers or no prayers (don’t think God is particularly interested in who wins a NBA title), at approximately 9:49 CST, the Oklahoma City crowd erupted and the Oklahoma City Thunder won their first NBA title as an Oklahoma City franchise.

Thunder sensation Shai Gilgeous-Alexander (only 26 years old) became just the fourth player in NBA history (and first in the last 25 years) to win the NBA scoring title, the NBA regular season MVP, and the NBA Finals MVP award joining these three other decent players – Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Michael Jordan, and Shaquille O’Neal.

It was July of 2019, when the Thunder acquired Shai Gilgeous-Alexander and started stockpiling draft picks that led to the drafting in 2022 of Chet Holmgren (#2 out of Gonzaga) and Jalen Williams “Jay-Dub” (#12 out of Santa Clara). And just like that, a new, very formidable “big three” was born. With subtle and smart picks and acquisitions over the following years (trading Josh Giddey to the Bulls for Alex Caruso, acquiring Isaiah Hartenstein from the Knicks, etc.), the Thunder slowly built themselves into a contender and ultimately into a NBA championship team.

This photo below is from Christmas 2015 give or take a year.

I know it was Christmas because I bought all three of those Oklahoma City Thunder hats as Christmas gifts to myself, my brother-in-law Nick (center), and my dad. Living in Norman for many years after retirement, my mom and dad became big Thunder fans upon the arrival of the Thunder (thank you Seattle) in 2008. Success was almost instantaneous as the Thunder made their way to the NBA finals in 2012 behind their original “big three” of Kevin Durant, Russell Westbrook, and James Harden. They lost in five games that season to a better big three in Miami – LeBron James, Dwayne Wade, and Chris Bosh. The Thunder traded Harden before the start of the following season, Durant left via free agency in 2016, and Westbrook was the last to go – traded in July of 2020 officially ending that initial era of success.

My dad and I always had Thunder basketball to talk about through the years. How they needed to get Kevin Durant more shots and Russell Westbrook needed to turn the ball over less. How Serge Ibaka couuld be the X-factor. How fun Steven Adams was to watch and was for a soundbite, and how Kendrick Perkins was making way too much money for the Thunder. He would see many of the Thunder players in the Poker Room at the local casino he frequented and report back to me – “Durant was playing the big stakes tables today… Perk was there with his bodyguard so no one would bother him I guess… stood next to Russell Westbrook getting poker chips. He’s not very tall…”

I once typed out a full-page letter and mailed it to my dad which laid out how much money Perkins was making per point and per rebound, compared him to some of the other “true stiffs” around the league, and called my dad “a crazy old fool who just didn’t understand basketball,” and then I signed it “Big Perk.” My dad, the lifelong basketball coach, got a kick out of it, and I think it only fueled his passion for Perk-bashing. We went to a Thunder game one time with my best friend from high school, Barry. The three of us sitting there watching the Thunder that night and Barry (also by then fully aware of my dad’s disdain for Kendrick Perkins), would jump out of his seat and give a standing ovation every time Kendrick Perkins made a shot or did something really well. Granted, it only happened a couple of times the whole game, but it made my dad laugh each time. And to my dad’s defense, Perk finished with somewhere around 4 points and 2 rebounds that game, which just further solidified his whole point of him being grossly overpaid.

The irony of it all is that Kendrick Perkins was on hand last night in Oklahoma City as part of the ESPN crew broadcasting the game. At halftime, Perk let some of his former OKC Thunder allegiance step in when he said “Chet Holmgren and J-Dub, ya’ll gotta step the hell up.“

Better “step the hell up” they did in the second half, and this Thunder team became an instant legend. There’s only one first in the history books and this group of guys will always be “the first” OKC NBA champion team.

This August will mark four years since my dad passed, and I miss him and I miss our conversations about the Thunder. He would love this Thunder team right along with the hundreds of thousands of fans that do at this very moment. So last night as the post-game coverage wrapped up, Big Perk said his final words and I turned off the television, I rubbed the same OKC Thunder ballcap that I had on my head that I’m wearing in the photo above, and with eyes slightly welling up I looked and pointed upwards and simply said…

“Dad, we’ve been Thunderstruck.”

Several hours later, the song still lingers in my head. Released in 1990, it became a top five U.S. Rock Tracks song for AC/DC off of their “Razor’s Edge” album. One of their most famous and beloved songs, “Thunderstruck” became the official song of the OKC Thunder in 2017 edging out “The Thunder Rolls” by Oklahoman Garth Brooks. I love Garth, but the fans made the right decision on this one as the 2024-25 Oklahoma City Thunder etched or shall I say thundered their their way into the history books.

Thanks for reading and ThunderUp!

sincerely,

the80s

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