Hornets (might) Return to Charlotte

At a press conference today at 6:00pm ET, Michael Jordan announced the possible re-purchase of the Hornets team name to Charlotte pending New Orleans' name change to the Pelicans.

I apologize for the blurry video quality. The audio is pretty intact.





In the past year, the public response for the Hornets' return has pretty much grown from Facebook pages to a huge spike in sales for Hornets merchandise at Time Warner Cable Arena, the Bobcats' home stadium. If you ever attended a Bobcats game, you've probably noticed the crowd of blue and orange was often sprinkled of teal and purple. Many fans can't seem to let go.

While this isn't unique to Charlotte ( I did live in "Die Colts, Die" Baltimore for a while), but to wear the old team's colors in the presence of your current team kind of says "We support you but you'll never take the place of our true team." That must be hurtful to the Bobcats players, and this news just hits them where it really hurts. Keep in mind, I was also was taken aback by the team change after being out of the loop for several year, but even I made an effort to accept the changes when they came. It's a part of life.


If the name does return, I just wonder how the change back will impact Kemba Walker, Michael Kidd-Gilchrist and the other players? What do you guys think?

UPDATE October 19, 2013--

The Hornets are returning, but not until 2014. Until then, Charlotte will be a Bobcats city for one more year, as Bobcats paraphernalia still drapes the Arena.

One Detail came to mind since publishing this article: Rufus Lynx, the Bobcats' Mascot, who has been a fan favorite since the Bobcats' induction. Are they willing to see HIM go with the franchise?

"I'm gonna miss you too, but your mom and dad wanted the old team back"

Just goes to show you gotta be careful of what you wish for.

The Stolen Business

If you are thinking of heading down to Amy's Baking Company after following the Bouzaglos' subsequent broadcast and online meltdown on Gordon Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares, you may want to think twice before choosing any food selection. Particularly the pizza.

Two years before their appearance on the reality show, Amy Bouzaglo posted the following Facebook message promoting her "pizza":

As the racially-colored comments suggests, the photos she used were not hers, but from an Irish Pizzeria called The Stolen Pizza.

Note the bottom photo (pictured in the top left of ABC's facebook pic)

The staff of The Stolen Pizza represent what a business should look like online. Their facebook page, even better. Compared to Amy's page, they look spectacular.

As I continue to grow my own business, it makes me angry to see shady people stealing from more honest entrepreneurs who've worked hard and earned their customer base. I don't care if that business is overseas. The economy is becoming more global and anything that happens in one part of the world is always gonna affect another faster than centuries ago. If Amy thinks she can scam someone outside the United States with no consequences on her part then that's just another type of "stupid" to add to her growing list.

Don't waste your money giving that spoiled womanchild Amy Bouzaglo any more attention than she wants. If you want quality and a good vacation, hop on a plane and go support The Stolen Pizza, or at least like their FB page.

http://www.thestolenpizza.com/

https://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Stolen-Pizza/199917130031657

And In case Amy sees this and wants to rail on me........

http://www.jhonta.com/news/wp-content/uploads/uBYfU.jpg

Flashback: Dishwashing with Anarchists

It was an evening in June of 2011 when I still interned for Elsewhere Artist Collaborative. The interns, residents and staff had just finished their dinner of vegan and organic courses when I found myself washing dishes with a couple of anarchists who where exchanging their services for a place to sleep. A married couple, both decked in baggy black clothes and piercings in all places that could be pierced. The words "Fuck cops" adorned the man's right cheek as his wife wore matted blonde dreads. Both were still drenched from the rain they recently escaped.  We were an odd sight as I stood next to them in a fairly conservative t-shirt and denim capris.

Over the sound of plates being scratched and scrubbed, I listened to their stories of hitching freight trains across the country. I didn't have a choice-- I thought that life died in the advancement of locomotive technology and post-WWII economic development. Besides, don't trains run too fast for people jump on them anymore? Well, they explained their jumping strategies (which is NOT we see in the movies), but how they survived in uncontrolled conditions, and even the legal risks they took in doing what they did.  somewhere in the conversation "Mrs. Freight" mentioned having a daughter who lived with her mother in Arkansas. This part bothered me a bit but I let it go for the moment just so I could ask more about their travels via this transit method.

"Anywhere the train stops" She said. Specifically, anywhere the train stopped that had an anarchist or anarchist-friendly community. I guess that also included free shelter, which usually meant large or moderately-sized cities like Greensboro, NC. They claimed of all the cities they lived in, the one to avoid was New Orleans.

And this bit of curiosity is what gets cats killed.

When I asked them about it, New Orleans, they claimed, had a low tolerance for vegans. I wouldn't say they were lying-- What about hindus, people with health problems, and anyone with food allergies? Or Mormons?  Cajun food has to survive but at what cost to certain populations? But then do those populations even make an impact on the food service businesses?  Probably not.

While I understood the frustration of such intolerance I remember what I did when it reached a point of no return-- I eventually moved away to a city that let me be. I'd figure a couple that migrated on a freight would have figured out which city to avoid by now.

The dishes finally complete, I picked up one last cooking pot, stared into the reflection, then my hands, starting to get blackened by the summer sun, and realized who exactly was telling me all this: Why was this couple seeking shelter when they had a child at home with Grandma? If the grandma would care for the child, can she provide shelter for the parents? As soon as they received the news that no bed would come, the dishwashing ended. Why do all that work when you won't even get the most basic of amenities in return? Maybe they could get a job? Nevermind.

I guess life isn't easy for the anarchist couple who can drop off the kid at grandma while they freely jumping freight trains and call out people who reject their freedom to wear their social views on their sleeves. What injustice.


Sidenote:
This was not the only anarchist couple I met with children, but the only one somehow decided to reject the tradition of being a parent too.  Anarchists vary in their ideals but all those ideals, whether I agree with them or not, fascinate me and I do not regret the experience of meeting the anarchist community at all.

Frail-ing Youth: Orthopedic Weakness -- Part 2: The Lazy Knee

You all probably know by now that Kevin Ware recovered rapidly enough to climb the ladder and cut the basket strings.  But that has since been replaced with the images of limbless Boston Marathon runners, all of which just strengthen my resolve to troubleshoot my knee ailments.

As I sat in the waiting room of orthopedic clinic, I began to mentally jot down any stupid choices I made in the past for the doctor's notes--jumping from a 4 foot wall, signing up for a hockey class in college, jumping in that that kid's bouncy castle when I was still very overweight. Anything that could've pushed my knees to their brink.

On the way to the clinic, I nothing of the demographic with whom I'd be sharing the waiting room. The name "sports medicine" didn't help clarify things any further. I wasn't involved in any heavy physical activity, but I was relieved learned that I was but a variety: High school and college athletes, adult athletes, adults with joint problems and elderly.  As expected with the environment, a few patients were walking around with crutches or other walking aids.

Finally it was time to see the doctor, who asked me the usual questions ( "What meds are you on? Any family history? Any past injuries?") before sending me for x-rays.  Remembering the crutched patients outside (not to mention one sitting next to me in the x-ray room) the idea of surgery haunted my mind. Not the idea of having it per se, but the problems recovering from it would cause. My knees were impacting one of my jobs, so being on crutches for a month would impact it more. Walking like an old lady seemed like the better choice at the moment.

Before I was relived to dash those thoughts, because it turned out my pain that seemed so was more common for people my age than I realized-- misaligned knees caps. These alignments were very common in people with flat feet.

[I had a pic here, but I need a new one. Bear with me until I get one. Thanks.]

Imagine your knee caps were your eyeballs. Normally your knees should be "staring" straight ahead, like your irises. Now think of what happens when your left eye is looking left and the right eye is looking right? Well, it would be hard to see clearly, right? Well, that's what the kneecaps are doing--making it hard to walk.

Thankfully, all my memory jogging and descriptions of my ailment paid off.  Better yet, I didn't need corrective joint braces or even surgery. All that was needed was a weekly commitment to the clinic's physical therapy program.

One of the first regiments was the simple reintroduction to normal walking and stepping patterns. Because my knees were misaligned, I felt pain every time I put weight on a bent knee, so I conditioned myself to lift my body up steps in an abnormal rhythm so to avoid the pain as much as possible.  The physical therapy helps build back the knee muscles and reduce that pain. No surgery, no braces. Just structured exercise. And I can still go to work in the process.

 As of this blog post, I'll be awaiting my first appointment with the physical therapist, but check in until my third installment of this ongoing saga!