Trying to start a website on the Friday before a holiday weekend doesn't seem like a smart move, does it?

Yet here I am. And here it is.

I actually meant to kick this thing off at the beginning of the week, but the sudden, stunning death of MLive.com's Detroit Lions beat writer Tom Kowalski wouldn't let me continue the day without writing something about him.

Then Wednesday seemed like a good day, but that's the day I write a Tigers column for MLive. Plus, the Tigers had a day game, which meant a live blog to help out with. And did I mention that the contributing writers at Yahoo's Big League Stew are helping to fill in while Kevin Kaduk is on vacation?

Thursday was September 1. Perfect! Except not, for many of the same reasons listed above.

So that left Friday. And really, maybe it's appropriate that this first post on the "new," rebooted blog kept getting pushed back because of other commitments. Because it's kind of been the story of my blogging life over the past few years.

I've been blogging pretty regularly since 2004. Originally, it was a way to keep up with friends back home (and elsewhere) while I was studying at Iowa. Then it became an outlet for conversations I couldn't have and writing the type of stuff I wanted to read. Eventually, it became apparent that my sportswriting was attracting a different audience and getting the right kind of attention.

That led to new endeavors, which brought me more notoriety and actual employment as a writer, but consumed any time that could be devoted to the personal blogging I enjoyed so much.

Along the way, I moved my blog from Blogger to Squarespace. The idea was to have a new platform to play with, but also to eventually create an archive of all the stuff I was writing.

But even though I had something in mind, I didn't know how to make it happen. Or maybe I just didn't want to put the work in. So I moved the blog yet again, this time to Posterous, where it would be just a blog. No website, no archive. And no sidebar blogrolls and gimmicky widgets, either. Just a stripped down blog.

Unfortunately, it was the content that was often stripped down. After writing at Big League Stew, MLive, or SB Nation Detroit, there just wasn't much time left in the day for pounding out a movie review, a sports post that didn't fit anywhere else, a comment on pop culture, or a personal story. And if it wasn't a question of time, it was a question of interest and motivation.

I eventually titled the Posterous blog "Work In Progress," because that's what it always was to me. Rather than a blog or journal, the site became a place where I collected ideas and partially written drafts. If I followed through on even half of the unfinished posts, I'd have had a decent blog running. Alas, the dashboard looked more like a dead tree, taunting me with its bare limbs.

Meanwhile, I was still paying money for this Squarespace site, still nursing that original concept for a one-stop shop where readers, friends, colleagues and, yes, prospective employers, could get a wider view of what I was writing. Rather than keep wasting money, I decided it was finally time to make the best use of the resources I had available.

So it's certainly nothing against Posterous. I recommend it to anyone for a blogging platform. They're adding improvements and feature all the time. I especially love its audio capability, where you can embed MP3s. That's probably a reason I'll keep that site up, in case I want to include a song or podcast clip — or even an entire podcast, if I end up doing one again. Then I'll just transfer the post over here.

But my blog is going to be here from here on out. All the Twitter and Facebook links will point here. And if you follow along via RSS, the feed will come from here, as well.

For those of you who have kept up with me all along, even when it seemed like I wasn't going to be posting new material anymore, I truly appreciate your readership. I know Twitter and Facebook lessen the need for a personal blog these days. As with many former bloggers, much of the stuff that I would've posted on a blog in the past ends up going there. But like I once wrote, social media is ethereal. I want something a bit more permanent.

With this site set up now, and my continuing to pay Squarespace to host it, I'm hoping that will provide enough motivation to post new content regularly. I don't want this website to collect cobwebs. Please have a look around the place. I've provided links to keep up with my contributions at Big League Stew, MLive and SB Nation Detroit, in addition to my beloved Twitter account.

Maybe this will be a misguided attempt to try and capture something — or someone — I used to be. (That will be the subject of a future post, as it's been on my mind a lot lately.) Maybe the reason I hadn't been updating a personal blog is because I'm just not that person anymore. Or perhaps it outlived its usefulness somewhere along the line. But I'm certainly going to try again.

Thank you for clicking over to iancasselberry.com. Am I accomplished enough of a writer to warrant this kind of archive? Probably not. But I hope you'll consider it worthy, and I'll do all I can to compel you to keep coming back.

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I just noticed that the Seattle Mariners are having a "Sonics Celebration Night" before Friday's game against the Tampa Bay Rays. 

No, this has nothing do with drive-in burgers, smart guy. It's a pretty cool thing the M's are doing for Seattle sports fans, bringing in some of the most famous alumni from the NBA team that the city never should've lost. 

Just about every good player the Sonics have had is showing up at Safeco Field for this. Shawn Kemp, Gary Payton, Dale Ellis, Tom Chambers, Jack Sikma, Lenny Wilkens, to name just a few. If you never followed the Sonics or aren't a NBA fan, I realize these names will mean nothing to you. But for the fans who rooted for the Sonics and want to remember the days when Seattle was a Western Conference powerhouse, it's going to be fun to see all those old faces. 

(I was a huge NBA fan in my late teens and early twenties. Back before TNT and ESPN showed so many games on TV, it was rare for a fan in Michigan to see the Sonics. So when they were on TBS late on a Friday night, I tuned in. I loved the fast-paced, high-flying, deep-shooting style of those teams.) 

As impressive as that lineup is, however, there's one missing name that stands out to me.

No Xavier McDaniel? The guy had one of the coolest names ever. And his nickname, "The X-Man," appealed to my comic book geek side. 

Plus, he had one of the more memorable appearances in a movie from a pro athlete. (Even if the delivery could've used some work.) Remember this scene from "Singles"?

You rule, Cameron Crowe.

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The year was 1983, the song was "Separate Ways." 

It was another big hit for Journey, despite a video in which the band is often depicted playing invisible instruments.

How did the discussion with the director go for this one?

Director: So what I'm thinking is we shoot some scenes with you guys playing invisible instruments.

Journey: What?

Director: Yeah, it'll be cool. Because this is a song about a, uh, failed relationship, right? I read the lyrics. So your instruments are like that girl that's gone now.

Journey: So we're just pretending to play guitars, drums and keyboards?

Director: Oh, and you'll be stalking some chick in heels and a leather skirt with massive hair. All takes place on a wharf.

Journey: [...]

Director: Trust me. This will rock. You don't see Foreigner doing this shit.

Jonathan Cain was even asked to play a keyboard mounted on a wall. Who would ever play that way? (Of course, that still isn't as dumb as a Keytar.)

Okay, enough snark and screen caps. Here's the video:

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If you missed CBS' "Sunday Morning" last weekend (and I'm betting you did, since I'm the only one in my age group I know who watches it — hey, I'm up early writing The Juice for Big League Stew), the last show had a feature on the 30th anniversary of Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'."

As if I didn't already feel old being up so early on a Sunday morning. I knew I was in grade school when that song came out. It was one of the first videos I remember watching on MTV. But there it is. 30 years.

UPDATE: The video isn't embedding, so here's a link to the feature.

The elephant in the room that report glosses over, of course, is that original lead singer Steve Perry isn't with Journey anymore. But that was probably too convoluted to address. Besides, the guys who wrote the song — including guitarist Neal Schon, whose opening riff and later solo almost always stop me in my tracks — are still in the band. And the new singer, Arnel Pineda, is such a great story. He should be a sequel to "Rock Star."

Nowadays, "Don't Stop Believin'" is one of those songs you hear everywhere. It's played at all kinds of sporting events, including Red Wings games and even Michigan football games now. (I'm curious to see if Brady Hoke puts the kibosh on piped-in music at Michigan Stadium this season.) We love that "South Detroit" line. 

It was in the final scene of "The Sopranos." It played over the post-credits scene (oh, and this one too) of "The Losers" (if you didn't see that movie). "Glee" made it big with the kids again. (I hadn't heard this version until creating that link for this post. Ugh.)

The song has become cool again. Which drives me kind of crazy, because I took a lot of shit for liking Journey through junior high school, high school, college and a good chunk of my twenties. Where the hell were you people when I was blasting "Escape" on my stereo and in my car? We could've been great friends, I'm sure. Some of us always thought "Don't Stop Believin'" was cool. (Or maybe it was me, not the Journey.)

But hey, that's great. It's obviously become a timeless song, a classic anthem that everyone enjoys now.

I believe this is the original video that played on MTV. As a little kid, I wanted to play on Steve Smith's drum set so badly.

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It's been quite a while since I worked at Borders. But the downward spiral the company has been riding from irrelevance to bankruptcy, and now to liquidation just cannot be a complete surprise to anyone who's worked at a Borders store or at the corporate offices over the past 12-15 years.

That isn't meant to be an "I told you so." Even with the bad decisions and mismanagement I witnessed during my time there, I don't think I could've even imagined that Borders would just cease to exist.

Besides, I made a lot of friends when I worked at Borders, some I still consider close, and many of whom stayed long after I left. I don't know if anyone I know was still there when the final wrecking ball hit, but I certainly don't want to see anyone lose his or her job. Especially anyone who I spent many hours stocking shelves, manning registers, bitching about customers and doing some hard drinking with.

I really hope someone eventually writes a book (or even makes a documentary) about the rise and fall of Borders, from independent bookstore to small chain, to national chain that lost its identity while its ambition far overestimated the market. I don't know how many people would read that book — and I suppose there's some bitter irony in that there's now one less place where such a book would be sold — but I don't think I'd be the only one interested.

While reading the various obituaries on Borders, the easy (lazy?) culprit seems to be the explosive growth of Amazon and advent of e-books. I'd say yes and no. Amazon definitely had a lot to do with killing traditional brick-and-mortar bookstores, but Borders was late — way late — in establishing an online presence. We're talking a distant third to Amazon and Barnes and Noble. Borders.com was still trying to find its legs when I began working there in 1999. The company line at the time was "At least our site is making money." Right, because Borders hadn't invested the resources into its website that Amazon and B&N had. 12 years later, how did that turn out?

Borders cared so little about running an online bookstore that it couldn't even be bothered trying and eventually farmed the work out to Amazon. Say what? If you happen to go to Borders.com to search for or buy a book, only to see that Amazon is running the operation, why wouldn't you just go over to Amazon? By the time Borders decided to bring the operation back in-house, the toothpaste was long out of the tube. Hell, the tube had been thrown away.

(And that's not even considering the poorer service you'd get from the "new" Borders.com, compared to Amazon.)

But the demise wasn't completely self-inflicted. There were plenty of other market realities that were beyond the company's control. When I worked there, music was a big part of sales. Around 1999-2000, I'd go so far as to say it was split nearly 50-50 between book sales and music sales. The amount of floor space devoted to CDs could tell you how important they were to the business. DVD sales were also growing, and I think Borders was pretty proactive in changing out its inventory to reflect the shift.

Of course, we all know what's happened to music over the past 10 years. No one buys CDs anymore. People buy all their music online now. And that's if they buy it. Besides file sharing, there are plenty of great streaming music services now. (By the way, have you tried Spotify?)

The same thing is happening with movies now. DVD sales are down. Blu-ray looks increasingly like a product for serious cinephiles or HD snobs. People are watching more movies on-demand, streaming or download. Look at the changes Netflix made last week. Do you think they really want to be in the DVD business anymore?

(There was also an inexplicable decision to sell those "Big Mouth Billy Bass" talking fish at one point. Were we a bookstore, a books and music store, or a frickin' novelty toy store? I don't know whose call that was, or how long he or she was employed in the corporate offices. But if you want to point to one instance where Borders jumped the shark (or bass), that may have been it. Whoever had that idea had clearly never worked in a bookstore. And from what I hear, plenty of decisions came from that standpoint, looking down upon the store employees. "Oh, they'll figure out how to deal with it" seemed to be the general stance.)

Going in deep on music and movies (and also with cards and stationery, in a partnership with UK company Paperchase) probably resulted in a bit of an identity crisis. A great example of this was the "concept store" Borders attempted three years ago. It was the retail equivalent of Modern Family's Phil Dunphy trying to seem cool. Hey, you can make your own CDs! Download your own MP3s! Print out your own pictures! Make your own photo album! Upload your own book and self-publish!

Unfortunately, this was all stuff you could do at home, and probably for a hell of a lot cheaper — if not free.

The Ann Arbor News' (now AnnArbor.com's) Nathan Bomey rightly eviscerated this endeavor, and I'm not sure perception of the "concept store" ever recovered. The store itself was beautiful — clean, modern, streamlined — with some creative touches like in-section kiosks and search desks devoted to cooking, travel, graphic novels, etc. Personally, I enjoyed hanging out there.

However, the inventory wasn't anywhere near what customers had come to expect from a Borders, catering more to mainstream and pop culture tastes. And part of that was due to nearly half the floor space devoted to the so-called innovations mentioned above.

Borders tried to once again define itself as a bookseller once it became clear that CDs and DVDs were becoming obsolete, but as with most every other decision the company made, it was already too late. By then, the e-book market began to grow. Amazon already had the Kindle and B&N introduced the Nook. Borders again farmed that aspect of the business out to another company, Kobo. And once again, they were a distant third.

I can only imagine the same lack of purpose and leadership applied when Borders tried to restructure itself in Chapter 11 bankruptcy. Is it any wonder no one — and I mean no one — wanted to buy up what was left?

The death of Borders is just a sad development. I grew up in Ann Arbor and shopped at the original pre-chain stores. I've spent many. many hours browsing, reading, buying and socializing at the flagship store in downtown Ann Arbor. I studied there. I took dates there. I consider myself lucky to have met so many of my favorite authors, whose book tours made a mandatory stop in the hometown of one of the country's largest book chains. I can't imagine not stopping in there for even 15 minutes, just before catching a film at the Michigan Theater across the street.

I was thrilled to work there when I first started. I'd always thought being hired would've been like passing an initiation. And for years, employees had to pass a book test. By the time I was hired, that no longer applied, which was kind of a disappointment. I wanted to know if I could've passed that test. Maybe I wouldn't have been hired. I worked with plenty of others who surely wouldn't have been, such as the co-worker who thought Hannibal Lecter was a real serial killer. (Seriously. Oh, I have so many more stories where that came from. For future posts, perhaps.) Relaxing those standards probably didn't help the company. But hey, when you're expanding like crazy and building stores all over the country, someone has to work there.

Since leaving Borders, I'd often looked back at my time there with some regret. Maybe I should've "played the game better," I told myself, and tried harder to make inroads at the corporate level. The headquarters were practically in my backyard. I had friends and former colleagues there who would've helped and supported me along the way. (And I feel terrible for those who tried to make a career there.) Maybe I should've taken better advantage of that opportunity. Perhaps it was dumb not to.

But it's pretty apparent now that it wouldn't have mattered.

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This wouldn't have been my first choice for a topic in my first post here in almost a month. But I've written quite a bit about Superman at every personal blog I've ever had. So with the release of a deleted scene for Superman Returns that I've always wanted to see, I figured I'd get some thoughts out there.

I was really disappointed in Superman Returns when it came out. That feeling hasn't changed upon repeated viewings on cable TV. I originally thought that maybe I was to blame because I anticipated the film so much that I was bound to be let down. And maybe I also knew too much about it going in, as I just can't resist reading rumors and updates (many of which contain spoilers) online.

As I wrote back in 2006, I thought Bryan Singer made a beautiful looking film. There's an elegance and poigancy to it that was unexpected. He obviously has tremendous reverence for Richard Donner's Superman: The Movie. But it's so much of a tribute that it ends up feeling like a copy. And should "elegance" and "poignancy" really be associated with a comic book superhero movie?

Anyway, here's the deleted scene that was originally supposed to open the movie. It's featured on the new new Superman Anthology Blu-ray/DVD set. This scene was rumored throughout the production and I was miffed when it had been taken out. I thought maybe it would enrich the story. But as you can see, it really doesn't add much.

A commenter on Vulture posted that this was like Stanley Kubrick's Superman. Maybe that's what Singer was going for. But it's a pretty slow way to open a blockbuster summer movie. And the final finished product didn't miss the scene at all.

If anything, this is a microcosm of everything that didn't work in Singer's movie. The scene looks pretty cool, but is slow and deliberate, and ultimately doesn't explain a whole hell of a lot.

I also felt like it was a bit out of character for Superman. The idea that he'd just up and leave to go find himself didn't sit well with a lot of fans. At the time, I didn't agree because Superman's feelings of alienation are one of his key character traits. But the previous movies (and comic books) established that Superman already has the Fortress of Solitude to tell him anything he needs to know about his home planet of Krypton. So why the wanderlust when he presumably feels such a deep obligation to be Earth's protector? Why would he just ditch Lois Lane if he loved her so much?

There have been other stories in the comics (such as "Kingdom Come") where Superman basically decided that he'd had enough of humanity. But he was a much older man in those stories, not the relative young buck we see in Superman Returns. That guy isn't jaded. So why does he act like someone who is?

The sequence also reportedly cost $10 million to produce. Yet it was cut out of the movie. It's enough to make you wonder how any studio would want Singer to direct another big-budget project. What a colossal waste.

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[Pardon the quality of that video. I couldn't find anything better.]

Yesterday, the dentist told me I have a cavity.

I don't get cavities. At least, I haven't gotten one since I was probably eight years old. I was fortunate enough to have all my cavities in baby teeth, so they fell out. And I've made sure not to blow that second chance since then.

But my pristine streak of clean dental visits is now over.

The dentist just dropped it on me at the end of my cleaning. It was like, "Hey, nice to see you," before getting punched in the stomach.

The hygienist didn't give me any indication that something might be wrong. Everything was going fine, as usual. Make sure to keep flossing, etc. Then the doctor comes in, checks over the hygienist's work, does the tongue test for oral cancer. Again, everything is going fine. Then he starts jabbing that metal pick in my molars. And it sticks in one of them

"Ah, feel that stick? Yep, that's a cavity."

WHAT? I don't get cavities.

He said it was small enough that it didn't show up on X-rays. So maybe the hygienist didn't even see it. Or maybe it's normal protocol for her to leave breaking such news to the doctor. I don't know how this normally goes. Last time it happened to me, I was in grade school.

So since it was so small, can I take care of it myself. That's when the dentist gave me a terrible analogy.

"No," he said, as he shook his head emphatically. "See, a cavity is an infection. It's not like a skin infection that will eventually go away. Think of a cavity like cancer."

Like cancer? Shit, I guess I should be happy I only got a cavity.

"Cancer is just going to keep growing, unless you take it out. A cavity is the same way." 

But everyone was so nonchalant about this that I honestly wondered if maybe I misheard and this was just a warning. Of course, for a dentist's office, a cavity is business as usual. No big deal. Everyone gets them. The cynical side of me couldn't help but think that maybe my tooth wasn't that bad, and they were just trying to get $200 for a filling out of me.

So that's it for me. I'm back at the dentist's office Friday afternoon to get that filling. Do they still have to drill out a bunch of the tooth, even though the cavity is small? I have no idea how this goes.

In the meantime, I realize now that my mouth is simply too hideous to be seen in public. I'll be one of those people walking around with SARS flu masks to protect both myself and the people I encounter.

Well, those days are over. Screw it, I might as well eat a bunch of ice cream and drink non-stop Coke from here on out. What's the point of doing otherwise?

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Helping to babysit my niece for 8-9 hours a day isn't always easy. Most of the time, it's a delight because she's so damn cute.

But it's getting harder to find ways to entertain this kid for eight hours without being repetitive. Those toys hanging from the mobile are probably getting pretty old. I've used up all my dance moves. I can only make up so many songs on the fly. (Fortunately, my fingers still seem pretty entertaining to her.)

Now, she's at that stage where she'll grab almost anything. (Usually followed by trying to stick it in her mouth.) Yesterday, she tried to swipe my glasses. No way, kiddo. But while I bent my head down, she found a new toy: My hair.

I was willing to go with it, because she was having fun. She was giggling and panting, with her eyes wide open and legs churning. So go ahead and yank away. Yes, it hurt a few times. A couple of times, she really had a good grip. But for the most part, I guess it was sort of like a scalp massage.

Baby Niece's mother warned me, however, that I might be setting a bad precedent. Soon, she'll be grabbing everyone's hair for fun because Uncle Ian lets her do it. Hey, that's their problem to deal with. I have to entertain a five-month-old baby all day.

After it was done, I couldn't stop thinking about this Looney Tunes cartoon. It's a pretty accurate re-enactment:

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I recently started drinking Rooibos tea semi-regularly after meals, so was intrigued to see Slate post an article about it on Tuesday. I don't even remember what compelled me to buy and start drinking Rooibos (pronounced "ROY-boss"). Either it just looked interesting on the shelf at my local crunchy natural food store or I read something about its antioxidant benefits and/or growing popularity. ("It's the coffee drinker's tea!") Both are entirely possible.

The author of the Slate article, Jessica Grose, described what's appealing about the tea. It has a tobacco-like aroma to it and sort of a nutty, licorice taste, but sweeter. I'm kind of terrified I'm going to spill it on my carpet and leave a permanent red stain, though.

Unfortunately, I may just be buying into the latest yuppie trend, fueled by an appetite for antioxidants:

If the buzz surrounding Rooibos sounds familiar, it's probably because it follows the same general narrative as the cultural ascension of the grain quinoa and the açaí berry. The trio is difficult to pronounce (it's keen-wah, ah-sigh-ee, and roy-boss), and all three are imported from vaguely exotic foreign countries. (Quinoa is from Bolivia and Peru; açaí hails from Brazil.) Açaí's magical healing properties, like rooibos', were touted from the get-go.

In my defense, I've never had anything with açaí in it. Unless it was snuck into some bottle of pomegranate juice I was curious enough to spend way too much money on while waiting in line at the cashier. (Or was that coconut water? I'm such a sucker.) But I do like the quinoa. Having been raised on a steady diet of white rice, it's a far healthier, more flavorful alternative. That one doesn't strike me as trendy.

But if I'm guilty, so be it. (Just writing this post is probably indictment enough.) I can only imagine Rooibos will end up in Christian Lander's next "Stuff White People Like" book.

Maybe the true test is this: Would I offer anyone a cup of Rooibos if they were over for a visit? Well, I probably would to my very close friends. (Hey, you gotta at least smell this!) Others, maybe not so much. Maybe I'd stick to coffee or green tea.

Now if you'll excuse me, the tea kettle is boiling.

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Last October, when the documentary about the making of "Darkness on the Edge of Town" — titled "The Promise" — premiered on HBO, I intended to write about it. But as often happens around here, especially now that so much of my writing time has to be devoted elsewhere, I never got around to it. (Joe Posnanski, I am most certainly not.) The draft has been taunting me from my blog's dashboard since last November.

I consider myself a Bruce Springsteen fan. Every time he comes out with a new album, I think it's worth checking out. I'm not a diehard. Hell, I passed on a chance to see him in concert a couple of years ago because my back was in too much pain to drive.But a few of his songs are among my all-time favorites, ones that make me stop to listen no matter what else I'm doing.

So I loved the film. What I most enjoyed was how it looked at the creative process. Seeing that at work was exciting. Making it even more compelling was getting to view Springsteen at a pivotal moment in his career, trying to follow up the hugely successful "Born to Run."

(Here's an excerpt from the documentary.)

Perhaps the biggest reason I wanted to write about the movie, however, is the revelation that Clarence Clemons' saxophone solo originally wasn't part of the song "Badlands." That floored me. Clemons' solo might be one of my favorite song parts ever. (It's around the 2:36 mark of the song, depending on the recording you listen to.) If I'm in the car, I blast it. If it comes up on my iPod, no matter what I'm doing, I stop and listen to it. Just soak it up.

badlands_sax.mp3 Listen on Posterous

Just the idea that we could've possibly been deprived of those 16 seconds is unfathomable to me.

Of course, I thought about that when news of Clemons' death was announced this past weekend. I remembered Bruce asking Clarence if Santa was going to buy him a new saxophone on their original recording of "Santa Claus is Comin' to Town." (Clemons was also the voice of Santa for the song.) I remembered laughing at how much fun Clarence had hitting the cowbell in the "Glory Days" video. (I guess he couldn't play sax in every song.)

Obviously, hardcore fans of The E Street Band have far more and deeply cherished memories of Clemons. I'd never seen him perform on stage. I envy anyone and everyone who did.

Rest in peace, Big Man. And thank you for those sax solos.

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I'm leaning toward getting him a card and a gift for the first reason mentioned. This is his first Father's Day and that's pretty cool.

But yesterday, while looking over cards at Barnes & Noble, I just wasn't seeing anything that I liked or that I felt reflected what I wanted to say. (I think I buy blank cards 85 to 90 percent of the time.)

One in particular almost triggered a gag reflex. I can't recall the exact wording, but it was about telling your father what an inspirational figure he is, how special he is in your life, and the great friendship that the two of you have. In other words, it was something I might buy for my father. But I sure as hell wouldn't have bought it for my brother-in-law.

Unfortunately, I was thinking out loud as I read the card. Which means people could hear me. So when I said, "You gotta be fucking kidding me," and stuffed the card back on the rack, the woman next to me looked at me like I was a huge asshole. And probably a healthy dose of surprise over someone voicing that sentiment aloud.

Maybe I am an asshole. Regardless, I chose a blank card.

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I've been writing for MLive.com for about a year and a half now, and have learned to generally steer clear of the comments. MLive commenters have a reputation -- a well-deserved one -- for being pretty mean and not engaging in the most intellectual of discussions.

When I write a post, I usually like to see what people are saying. Not all of the commenters are ogres. If someone wants to disagree with what I wrote, point out a mistake I made, or bring my attention to something I overlooked, seeing such comments can make me a better writer.

And if someone wants to be a jerk or bully, that person usually backs down when you go right back at them. It's when someone clearly hasn't read the entire article and comments based on something written in the first paragraph (or someone misses a point altogether) that I grind my teeth.

But occasionally, someone posts a funny comment. And when Kurt Mensching of Bless You Boys brought this one -- posted on Sunday, May 22, 2011 -- to my attention, it was a "LOL" moment.

Hey, maybe these guys like me! And at least he didn't call me "Dingleberry." (I like to think I killed that with this post.)

But "Quisenberry"! This guy?

I might have to start growing a mustache to pay proper tribute to that comment. And I already throw kind of sidearm as an infielder. (Though I don't go full submarine like the late Mr. Quisenberry, who died of brain cancer in 1998. Rest in peace, sir.)

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Six years ago, my father passed away. Ever since then, May 20 has been a sad day for my family as we remember the events surrounding my father's death and how we've coped with the loss. 

Though I probably think about my father in some regard every single day, May 20 has sort of become the day when I truly reflect and allow myself the time to mourn.

I know this is especially true for my mother. I think there's a part of her that believes she shouldn't be enjoying her retirement without him. As much as she loves her life right now, I sometimes wonder if she's truly happy without having my father here to live it with her. I've tried to do all I can for her in his absence, but it's obviously not the same. 

But this year is different. May 20 carries an added meaning for our family. Last year, it was also the day that my sister found out she was pregnant. 

She didn't tell us until weeks later. (To this day, I don't know why she didn't share the great news on my birthday. Maybe she didn't want to overshadow the occasion. If so, but what a silly thought.) And when she told us the date she found out, it seemed like the best possible coincidence. I imagined my father having something to do with the timing behind the scenes.

I asked my sister about that this week. She confirmed that she intentionally took the pregnancy test on May 20, hoping that it would give us a good memory for the day. After spending the day with us, as she's done every year since my father died, she went to CVS and picked up a test kit. 

Mission accomplished. This year, there's some joy to go with the sadness. We still mourned my father today and cried over his loss, but the beautiful smile of my niece cleaned many of those dark feelings away.

It's bittersweet, of course. I wish my father had been here to hold his granddaughter. He would've been a wonderful grandpa. But I know he's enjoying the latest addition to our family and how she's brought us closer and tighter in the four months that she's been here. 

I mean, just look at her. She's the cutest baby kicking around. 

See the full gallery on Posterous

Oh, I could've posted another 20 pictures. Can't stop snapping photos of this kid.

Dad, we miss you and we love you. And baby Lola, we love you and are so happy you're here.

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I finally saw Thor over the weekend and hope to type up a review by the end of the day. But in the meantime, I also wanted to share this Thor-themed parody of the Darth Vader Volkswagen ad that came out during the Super Bowl.

Looks like this was a Marvel production, which is pretty clever on their part. I don't think this actually played on TV, which is too bad. But spreading around on the internet is probably good enough promotion.

Is it as good as the Volkswagen ad? Of course not. It's an outright copy. (And the mother just doesn't convey the same sense of annoyance that was so amusing in the original ad.)

As funny as it might be to see a kid dragging around a giant mallet, it just doesn't carry the same pathos as a little kid who not only wants to emulate the Dark Lord of the Sith but is just having a bad day because he can't get The Force to work for him.

(via The Hero Complex)

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If you've already had enough of me linking to my writing on Twitter and Facebook, I apologize. But it was pointed out to me that not everyone does the Twitter and Facebook (what?), so I should post some links here on the blog. And I've meant to do that, anyway. (If for no other reason that, hey, it's a fresh -- sort of -- post.) 

So maybe you heard Justin Verlander of the Detroit Tigers pitched a no-hitter against the Toronto Blue Jays on Saturday. (I don't think my niece was happy; she wanted a playmate, but Uncle Ian had to write.) I was fortunate enough to write about it for Big League Stew. (Thanks, Dave Brown!)

• Let's throw 2! Verlander gets second career no-hitter

I wrote two other pieces for the Stew over the weekend. First was my regular Sunday morning wrap-up (which I really need to do a better job of waking up earlier to finish). Then I expanded on one of the items, looking at the end of a 30-game hitting streak for the Los Angeles Dodgers' Andre Ethier and noting that the 30-game mark has been a wall for many players throughout baseball history.

• The Juice: Andre Ethier's hitting streak ends at 30 games
• The 30-game wall claims another victim in Andre Ethier

More links to come this week, hopefully. Thanks for stopping in.

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Saturday was a sports detox day for me, as I finished off the week with a load of Tigers baseball, Red Wings hockey and NFL Draft coverage. That was just too much disappointment and frustration to deal with (although the experts seem to like the Lions' haul of talent), so I opted to decompress by catching up on some sitcoms.

Last night was "Community," beginning with their brilliant parody of sitcom clip shows. To me, the funniest scene in the episode may have been their nod at "The Cape." Of course, it would be a show that Abed was into. And of course, he would take that fandom a bit too far.

I was into "The Cape" myself when it first premiered, even though I thought the show looked like a potential disaster when I saw commercials and previews for it. It almost seemed like a love letter from my youth. As an adolescent, I would've loved a show so inspired by comic book storytelling. Even better, the producers didn't even try to hide that. The opening credits had comic book illustrations. The title cards read like narration from a comic book panel. The show embraced its roots, wore them on its sleeve.

Best of all, the show didn't take itself too seriously. No, it wasn't excessively campy. The cast and writers never acted as if this material was beneath them. But the show also followed traditional comic book narratives without bothering to make sense of them, either. Viewers know how these stories work by now.

Alas, not enough viewers tuned in for those stories. Unfortunately, I have to include myself in that group. The show premiered right around the time my niece was born. Between being on alert for my sister's giving birth and putting in some late hours helping out when the baby came home, the episodes began to pile up on my DVR. I was going to get to them eventually. Really. Now, I guess I'll have plenty of time to catch up without worrying about falling further behind.

NBC didn't officially announce that "The Cape" was canceled, but 10 episodes were produced and the network relegated that 10th episode to online-only broadcast. Not a strong endorsement. Last week's announcement that a DVD of "The Cape: The Complete Series" was being released on July 5 was about as official as it gets.

But "The Cape" got one last tribute -- probably with tongue firmly in cheek, knowing Dan Harmon's tendencies -- two weeks ago on "Community," with Abed trying to work some magic with his own garment.

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Up until comic book movies started getting really good around 2000-01, my favorite was probably Superman II. Unfortunately, it doesn't quite hold up anymore and all I can see are most of the cornball story developments and superpowers that were invented just for the movie.

But this recut ending of the movie addresses one of those story points: Lois Lane finding out Clark Kent is Superman.

Don't misunderstand me; I've always loved the relationship between Lois and Superman. I just don't think he would've given up being Superman to live a normal life with Lois, as he does at one point in Superman II. Also, Lois never would've let him.

Hat tip to Jeff Pearlman.

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I'm a few days late with this (title of the blog was almost "I'll Get to That Eventually," remember), but I''ve been interested in all the publicity Katie Couric's pending exit as anchor of the "CBS Evening News" has been getting. Particularly, the A1 story in Monday's New York Times.

Bill Carter devotes 1,500 words to looking at why Couric anchoring an evening newscast, but this paragraph probably explains it all:

CBS clearly counted on Ms. Couric’s star power and the breakthrough of a woman commanding the anchor chair to help capture those new viewers. But the network strategists did not anticipate how difficult it would be to reverse decades of ratings erosion, or that CBS would continue to decrease staff members at the news division.

The easy thing to say is that only old people watch the evening news at 6:30 p.m. anymore. That's because it's mostly true. Just look at the commercials that run during the newscast. Heart medications, calcium supplements, denture care, luxury cars, etc.

(Okay, I admit I watch the evening news once or twice a week with dinner.)

CBS deserves credit for wanting to do something new and different. They wanted to reinvent the evening news, if such a thing could really be done. But I wonder if Les Moonves and the CBS News execs were victimized to a degree. Because I bet they asked a lot of people what they wanted to see in an evening newscast. And many of them probably said they wanted to see something new and different, especially if they were asked so.

People are always going to say they want something new, because they want something they haven't experienced before. Or at least they think that's what they want. People might be resistant to change when something works, but when it comes to something like a newscast, the idea of seeing something different is exciting.

But ultimately, people just want the basics with the news. Tell me what happened. Hopefully, you've got someone to report from the scene. Maybe give me a fluff piece that makes me feel good. Oh, and a likable anchor. Someone credible and authoritative, but someone I also wouldn't mind meeting.

When I think of the evening news, I think of how my father made a point to watch it with dinner every night. I wish he'd been around when Couric took over at CBS in 2006, because I'd have loved to hear what he thought. He had definite opinions on which newscast he preferred. Dad didn't like Brian Williams, thinking he was a bit smug ("He acts like he knows he's good-looking"). He was a Peter Jennings man. I think he liked Jennings' sense of whimsy. Somehow, he was more relatable. Or maybe it was the Canadian accent. If there's a heaven, I like to think Dad and Jennings meet up every once in a while to chat.

But what I do know is that my father wouldn't have liked having a show shoved in his face and being told he had to watch. That's kind of what happened when Couric went to CBS. This is important because she's the first female network evening news anchor. And I'm not saying that wasn't insignificant. Don't misunderstand me. But she got so much publicity, so much of the big sell from CBS. People were being told Couric mattered and this newscast mattered. I mean, look how much we're paying her!

Ultimately, I think many people want to discover this sort of thing for themselves. Or they want to hear from their friends, "Hey, have you seen this? It's pretty good; check it out." They don't want to be told that this is the next big thing and they need to tune in. They want to find the next big thing and enjoy being a part of it when it becomes big. Look at MSNBC's "Morning Joe." That's pretty much how it worked out.

By the way, I think Katie Couric would've been a great replacement for Larry King. You blew that one, CNN.

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I know. I've been lame. I tell myself every week, "This is the week when I start posting regularly again. Four posts this week! Okay, maybe three."

So next week, I'll get started on that. In the meantime, please enjoy some great comic strip from Stephen Pastis.

Even if it's just three of you, I really appreciate you reading any time something is posted here. Thank you.

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Interesting thoughts in Sunday's Boston Globe from former manager Bobby Valentine as to why Red Sox pitcher Daisuke Matsuzaka hasn't succeeded in the United States like he did in Japan. Matsuzaka was outstanding in 2008, with an 18-3 record and 2.90 ERA. Since then, however, he's 13-13 with a 5.16 ERA. Not exactly what the Red Sox envisioned when they paid a $51 million posting fee to get Matsuzaka out of Japan, then gave him a six-year, $52 million contract.

According to Bobby V, who managed in Japan for six seasons, the objective of pitching in Japanese baseball is completely different.

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