Sunday, December 16, 2012

That flagpole in the middle of the street


What was a flagpole doing in the middle of Main Street? Whose idea was this? You're telling me it didn't make sense to put it in front of the Meeting Hall or next to the Newtown Bee? How tall is this thing? Can people see it from space? And will I, while driving to Greg Smith's house or the wine vineyards for a vintage baseball game, ever crash into it? 
That's what I used to think about the Newtown flagpole. It was strange. Out of place. But it had been there since 1876. It had survived major thunderstorms, fires and car accidents. So in a way, it was stubborn.

Then I saw it again on Friday afternoon in the above picture. The day that kindergartners were killed -- young children taking their fundamental first steps in life.

And I teared up. The flag that I'd passed by so many times as a kid was being lowered to half-mast. It was on the national news. Not because somebody got their tongue stuck in the morning freeze or some astronaut spotted it from space -- it was because of a horrific tragedy.

The 100-foot structure looked dramatic and striking against the dreary sky. But you know what, the flagpole still left me with stubborn feelings.

It was the stubbornness of our elected officials for not thoroughly examining our gun control laws. The stubbornness of Republicans. The stubbornness of Democrats. The stubbornness of some bill in some holy document created hundreds of years ago. It's not 1780 anymore. We're not dairy farmers with pitchforks and pistols.  It's 2012 and suburban teenagers are wielding assault rifles.

Let's get this done, America. Let's discuss regulation. Korea, a place I lived a year, does not allow guns to any civilians. Just hunting rifles. Murders last year in SK: 1,251; US: 12,996. Korea's neighbor Japan (with similar gun control laws, and closer pop. numbers) had just 442. Some telling facts. Who needs 47 guns? Who needs two? One? Tell me why?

And it's also the stubbornness that we have in not dealing with our mental health system. Many families are too stubborn or scared to admit their child or father or brother has serious mental issues. They can't fathom the embarrassment or implications, so they ignore and deal with it on their own (sometimes to a fault). But let's not forget the stubbornness and ignorance of the larger societal system within our country. People who are bi-polar or suffering from other severe disorders are not given the care or proper support in our society. They're more routinely thrown in prison than admitted into a hospital. It's easier. Just clump these mentally-challenged individuals into an institution with murderers and degenerates, because they're cut from the same cloth, right? A great article that's been circling the web on this very subject is here.

And finally, the other stubbornness I felt when I saw that very same flag I'd seen so many times throughout my life, was the stubbornness of Newtown, the stubbornness of Connecticut and the stubbornness of our country. The U.S. has been through some incredible moments in recent past, from equal rights movements to 9/11 to natural disasters. But we've endured and taken appropriate courses of action. We've passed equal rights laws for women and worked toward eliminating racial discrimination. We've increased security measures and shut down numerous terrorist threats. We've held onto that American stubbornness that we are a great nation and we need to do the right thing. And this recent tragedy deserves that same attitude.

Let's discuss. Let's take action. We need to do it for ourselves, for our pride and for our future, but most importantly, we need to do it for Sandy Hook Elementary School, the families involved and for that town with the funny little flagpole in the middle of the street.

A fellow Nutmegger,

- Matt Monagan




Thursday, March 1, 2012

The Prince


Sans steroids (allegedly) and hamburgers (allegedly), Prince Fielder hit a ball 611 feet during batting practice with the Tigers today. That's far. Far for me; a kid that could barely reach the outfield grass at Fulton Park. That infield was huge! Endless amounts of dirt.
For Prince, probably not that far. The guy hit a home run out of Tiger Stadium at the age of 13. I dyed my hair orange at age 13 using Sun-In. I blame Marshall Mathers and middle-school peer pressures. Fielder hit 50 home runs in the big leagues at the age of 23. First ever to reach 50 at such a young age. I drank 15 beers and taped them together to form a "Wizard's Staff" when I was 23. Probably not the youngest ever to finish 15 cold ones, but a great feat nonetheless.
My point is, Prince is a true ballplayer and great power hitter. He also seems like a good guy and has done a whole lot of damage in a short time. And I wish the Mets had him. Much love for the Prince. Keep swinging hard.

Monday, February 20, 2012

El Beisbol


The great migration south begins. Baselines are re-rolled. Bleachers are shined. Bags of seeds and tins of Skoal are lined up in Florida locker rooms and Arizona dugouts. Bat bags are tossed into on-deck circles along with fresh packs of pine tar. Infields are crisper than ever and bad hops are inexcusable. I can almost smell the leather. I can hear the warm sounds of balls hitting mitts.
ESPN's Bottom Line is alive with updates:

Manny Ramirez signs minor league contract with the Oakland A's. Quality pick-up Billy Beane.

Mariano Rivera hints at retirement. Why?

Dmitri Young loses 50 pounds and attempts comeback. Rooting for you, D'Meat Hook! Please hit your weight.

Tim Wakefield retires. A great knuckleballer and two-time WS champion with 200 wins. He can now drink all the beer and eat all the wings he wants.

Terry Collins touts the Mets will surprise a lot of people and be better than expected.

A new season is here. A new start. Anybody can win. Hope Springs eternal.

Hooray Baseball.


Saturday, January 28, 2012

Gone Phishin'

Is Phish my favorite band? No. Do I know the names of any of their band members? No. Do I care? No. Do I even like fish? No. Ever since my Mom told me the story of finding an earthworm in a tuna can while making a sandwich for my Dad, I've tried to avoid the species all together. I also am deathly afraid of sharks. I've actually had nightmares about sharks growing legs and walking among us; ravaging homes and eating newborns in just one bite. Anyway...

The Don was in town around New Year's Eve this year. Why did the Don decided to grace us with his presence? No doubt he wanted to see his old friends from college, tour the Big Apple and lounge in our cozy Spanish Harlem bachelor pad. But Da Don also had a bigger agenda in mind. His favorite band Phish was in town and playing Madison Square Garden three nights in a row. The Don was on a mission and taking us along for the ride. Lynch and I would become Phishheads for one night.

The area surrounding Madison Square Garden was mobbed. I'd never seen so many people loitering outside the NYC sports/concert mecca. I'd also never seen so many without shoes on. Quite frankly, I was frightened. Sharks with legs dream frightened. It was as if Walking Dead had taken over the streets outside MSG. Walkers everywhere. Thought about hiding under a car. Where's RICK!

Entering the arena was like entering another dimension. Flashing lights, guitarists jumping on trampolines, swaying bodies all moving in a scattered, kind of beautiful unison and lots and lots of smoke. I'd never seen so much smoke in an enclosed space. It was probably similar to living with Patty and Selma from The Simpsons. I wanted to call the FDNY but couldn't see my phone.

One big-time Phishhead (I could tell because she had no shoes) noticed me swaying in the aisle. Guess I was swaying pretty well. This is how the conversation went:
Woman: Great show, huh? One of the best they've ever had.
Me: Yeah. Oh, definitely one of the best.
Woman: I'm from Nantucket. Where are you from?
Me: Nantucket, wow! Didn't know people lived there year-round. I live in New York.
Woman: Yeah, I'm a chef. Do you like food?
Me: Yeah, almost as much as I like Phish! What's your favorite dish to make?
Woman: something, something, something with eggs and bacon.
Me: Wow, that sounds delicious.
Woman: I know, so how many shows is this for you? This is my 112th!
Me: Um. Actually..This is my first one.
Conversation over.

She was actually pretty nice about ending the conversation and wanted to stop talking so I could "enjoy to the maximum." I thanked her and continued swaying.

Overall, the Phish concert was an awesome experience. Sure, they may have 25 minute songs, but they're songs that hit a nerve you never thought you had. A stress-free nerve that allows you to be friendly to people you've never seen before, say things you've never said before and sway. Just sway and feel free. A welcome atmosphere after a stressful week in the office. There's nothing quite like it. So a big thanks to Trey, Jon, Mike and Page. And also to Don for dragging us along. Below is a video I filmed on my way back into the concert from the bathroom. No bathroom shots unfortunately.