Today “Boys Will Be Boys” was reviewed in the New York Post. You can read the entire review here.

Amazing, the power of a single review. Just checked Amazon, and my book is No. 1 in football, and No. 709 overall. Those are pretty good signs (knock, knock) considering “Boys Will Be Boys” doesn’t actually come out until Sept. 16.

Man, I want this book to do well … I really do.

… you might just want to do a background check, first.

This is amazing. Absolutely amazing. As a first-term governor whose most extensive governmental experience came as the mayor of a town with 6,500 residents, you might want to at least be accurate in your most oft-repeated claim—in this case, that you fought with all your might to oppose the infamous Bridge to Nowhere. Alas, like too many politicians, Democratic and Republican, MC Palin seems, well, full of shit.

Yo Flav, read on:

Perhaps the brain was still a little fuzzy from the shock of McCain’s new VP pick, Alaska’s own governor Sarah Palin.  Perhaps it was still stuck in the endless loop of wondering – why? why? why?  Whatever the reason, it took more than 24 hours for Palin’s first big untruth to register with me.

Today, while I watched her hop out of the “Straight Talk Express” bus, and give the second reading of her acceptance speech, one of my fellow viewers said, “You know, I don’t remember her opposing the Bridge.”  And it hit me.  I don’t remember that either.  A quick double-check with the third member of our watch party confirmed our confusion.  We all live here.  We all watch the news, read the paper, and pay attention to the local political circus, but none of us connected Sarah with her claims of rebuffing the controversial earmark.  If you weren’t watching, here’s the quote from her speech:

“I championed reform to end the abuses of earmark spending by Congress. In fact, I told Congress — I told Congress, ‘Thanks, but no thanks,’ on that Bridge to Nowhere. ‘If our state wanted a bridge’, I said, ‘we’d build it ourselves’.

Reeeeally.

Check out these entries from the Ketchikan Daily News:

“People across the nation struggle with the idea of building a bridge because they’ve been under these misperceptions about the bridge and the purpose,’ said Palin, who described the link as the Ketchikan area’s potential for expansion and growth.

Palin said Alaska’s congressional delegation worked hard to obtain funding for the bridge and that she ‘would not stand in the way of the progress toward that bridge’.
8-8-06

‘We need to come to the defense of Southeast Alaska when proposals are on the table like the bridge and not allow the spinmeisters to turn this project or any other into something that’s so negative,’ Palin said.”
Ketchikan Daily News 9-28-06

Alaska Senator Ted Stevens (currently under indictment) and Representative Don Young (currently under investigation) were the bridge’s two biggest proponents.  But they were unable to convince Congress to fund the infamous bridge from Ketchikan to Gravina Island at the levels it had hoped.  Now, instead of Alaska paying $160 million, the cost to Alaska skyrocketed to $349 million.

After federal funding had been slashed, Palin was asked if she was still in support of funding the project.  She said:

Yes. I would like to see Alaska’s infrastructure projects built sooner rather than later. The window is now–while our congressional delegation is in a strong position to assist.

Well that assistance never materialized, and Alaska’s congressional powerhouse is tumbling like a house of cards.  Senior Senator Ted Stevens is under indictment on seven felony counts.  Representative Don Young is under investigation and has spent more than a million dollars of his campaign fund on legal fees…and he hasn’t even been indicted yet.  And although Stevens just won his primary bid handily, Young is hanging on by his fingernails while a recount is performed to determine the winner of his contest.  His challenger?  Sean Parnell, Palin’s Lt. Governor and also the head of the Division of Elections that is in charge of recounting the votes for his own race.  You can’t make this stuff up.  The third member of the delegation, Lisa Murkowski, was appointed to the U.S. Senate seat by her own father, Senator Frank Murkowski who left the senate to become the governor that Sarah Palin defeated in the 2006 primary.  (Are you keeping up with me?)  I could keep going, but those are the highlights.

So, if Congress had gone along and coughed up what Stevens and Young had asked for, guess what….that bridge to nowhere would have become a reality during the Palin administration.  She supported the bridge every step of the way…until the funding was cut.  So we decided to say, “Thanks, but no thanks.  If we want a bridge we’ll build it ourselves?!”   Is that like the failed earmark version of “You can’t fire me….I quit!”

The fact that “Thanks, but no thanks” was the money line for her debut as Vice Presidential candidate, and yet is a total fabrication, makes the mind reel.  Is there no fact checker on McCain’s staff?

One other thought: Much has already been said that, come debate time, Biden must tiptoe around Palin, just so he doesn’t look like the bully. I say—bullshit. This isn’t an election for town librarian or head dog walker. This is vice president of the United States. If people think a woman can’t take a debate with gusto and heart, well, she shouldn’t be on the stage.

… but a final posting here of what might be the worst interview of all time—but really funny. I don’t blame S.P. at all … clearly she was in the booth with a dillweed. But it sure is funny.

Take a listen here.

John McCain first met Palin in February of this year and had a telephone conversation with her. That is the full extent of his familiarity with Palin until he spent time with her last week. That’s how seriously he is taking the presidency of the United States. It’s simply unbelievable recklessness. It’s Bush-level recklessness.

Putting country first? This is a reckless act of egotism and politics. The more you think about it, and the more you consider how many charges he has leveled against Obama’s alleged inexperience in a time of peril, the more outrageous it is that she he picks an unknown local politician he has only met once before to be a heartbeat away from the presidency.

Palin isn’t the issue here. McCain’s judgment is. It’s completely off the wall. Is there something wrong with him?

I keep thinking about John McCain’s VP choice, and with each passing hour I become more and more offended.

Here’s how I see it unfolding:

A. Obama and Hillary loathe one another.

B. Obama picks Joe Biden as VP.

C. McCain desperately wants to grab those dissatisfied Hillary supporters, but doesn’t know how.

D. Steve Schmidt, McCain’s advisor, says, “Here’s a thought. Hillary Clinton and Sarah Palin are very similar.”

E. McCain asks, “Who’s Sarah Palin.”

F. “The governor of Arkansas,” says Schmidt.

G. “No,” injects an assistant. “Alaska.”

E. “Oh, her,” McCain says, “So how are they similar? On global warming”

F. “No,” says Schmidt

G. “On abortion?”

H. “No,” says Schmidt.

I. “On the economy?”

J. “No,” says Schmidt.

K. “I’m confused,” says McCain.

L. “Well,” says Schmidt, “they both have vaginas.”

M. “Ohhhhhh,” says McCain. “That is something.”

And so it is. Think about it. Sarah Palin has literally no viable experience to be president. She was a governor for 18 months, and before that the mayor of a town 1/4 the size of Mahopac, where I grew up. She played high school hoops, was a beauty queen, served on the PTA. I have no reason to believe she’s not a nice person and an able governor of a very small (and unique) state. But John McCain is 72, and a recovering cancer patient. The idea of her stepping in to deal with, oh, Iraq or Iran or China trade issues is, for lack of a better word, laughable.

Had Obama picked Hillary, there is no way—no friggin’ way—McCain makes this choice. He is gambling that women are stupid; that they won’t notice the differences between a pro-choice, pro-universal health care senator like Clinton and a first-term, right-wing governor from Alaska.

I think he’s wrong.

I’ve been thinking about this, and, in a sense, that’s what the McCain camp is hoping. While I’ve got no beef with Sarah Palin (hell, I’d never heard of her before 18 months ago), she immediately strikes me as a Dan Quayle-esque choice. Wise, perhaps, because it brings buzz and snazz to a blah campaign. But McCain is certainly hoping to swipe angry Hillary supporters away from the Dems. And if pro-choice, pro-gay rights, pro-middle class tax cuts Democrats cross over solely because of gender, well, they’re dumb.

Looks like John McCain is smarter than people give him credit for. He’s gonna pick Sarah Palin, Alaskan governor, as his VP pick—and I think it’s pretty damn brilliant.

A. Adds a groundbreaking element to what was a very antiquated campaign.

B. She has a limited record (first term governor), so she can’t be picked apart.

C. Dissatisfied female Hillary supporters—an obvious, and wise, target.

D. She’s pro-life, so the Republican base won’t complain. But she also believes in global warming and isn’t hostile toward gays.

E. Attractive (sadly, it helps)

Negatives: She’s from Alaska. She has almost zero experience. She supposedly had a government employee paid off to seek revenge against a relative.

Overall, however, props to McCain. Game on.

** Side thought: It’s interesting that, had Obama picked Hillary, there’s no way McCain makes this selection. Man, it’s such a chess match.

99.9 percent of the time, “making history” is bullshit.

A team wins the World Series—an event that takes place annually—and it “makes history.”

Someone climbs a very large mountain, and he “makes history.”

Entertainment Tonight launches HD programing, and it “makes history.”

Blah, blah, blah, blah.

Tonight, history is actually made. The first African-American major presidential candidate. Amazing. Truly, truly amazing. I grew up in a town where—20 years ago—this idea would have been laughed at. Forget the two crosses burning in my friend’s front yard or the casualness with which many of my classmates used the n-word. Forget the neighbor who once complained of “all the city people” moving into our area. What we had back then was a far-reaching and highly addictive mistrust of black people. They were the ones from the city; the ones of welfare; the ones who stole; the ones who wanted to sleep with our women; the ones who just weren’t as smart … as hard working … as decent. That was the attitude of many people I knew, who—based on ignorance, I believe, not true hatred—refused to open their minds and hearts to black Americans. When I was a kid, I had a huuuuge crush on Whitney Houston (pre-Bobby days), and I can’t tell you how many times I heard, “She’s pretty good looking—for a black girl.” Again, not mean-spirited. Just naive and sheltered.

So tonight, the idea that my old neighbors and friends will be watching Barack Obama accept the nomination—and that some of them might even vote for him—brings me much joy. 

People tend to say of others, “Oh, he’ll never change” or “She’ll never change,” and it’s pure, 100 percent garbage. People do change—with exposure and experience. It happened with African-Americans, and it’s in the process of happening with gay Americans. Hatred is powerful and strong, but it’s not omnipotent.

In the end, I believe what we strive for, sometimes in spite of ourselves, is unity.

For the past six days, my wife Catherine and our two kids, Casey and Emmett, have been in South Carolina on a vacation with her side of the family. I, meanwhile, stayed home to work on the nightmarish project that is my upcoming Roger Clemens biography.

To be honest, there was a large part of me that was excited for this week. The opportunity for nonstop work; to be able to really dig into the project without dirty diapers or baths or screaming or bedtime stories—well, I thought I needed it. I mean, let’s be honest. I know very few parents who, from time to time, don’t think, “Boy, it’d be nice to be alone again. No schedule. No obligations. No headaches. No heartache. Just me, the TV and a few nights out on the town.”

But now, as I sit here alone for yet another day of Clemens research, I am extremely lonely.

I miss my wife. I miss my kids. I miss aimless banter and funny moments. I miss having my kids splash each other in the bathtub, and Casey, who’s 5, giving Emmett, 2, a mild elbow shiver in an effort to move him aside. I miss my daughter saying, “Hmm … should I have a story or a song? What’s the better option?” I miss my son spotting our dog Norma and bellowing, “Nor-mah! Nor-mah!” It’s easy to find the repetitiveness of fatherhood irksome from time to time, and yet, I’ve discovered, that repetitiveness may well be my lifeblood. I’ve even walked into my kids’ empty rooms a couple of times, sort of hoping they might be there. Alas, they never are.

I’ve only got until Saturday, but it’s been a long, dry week. It’s also the greatest Catch 22 in the history of humanity: We—I—desperately want time to slow down; to not pass quite so fast. Yet it only seems to slow down when you’re fuckin’ miserable. My wife tells me this all the time, and she’s right. I’d rather have fun and fly.

One more thing. For anyone who might think writing a book is exciting, well, much of it is. But it’s also an arduous grind; the literary equivalent of carrying 500 bricks atop your back. Roger Clemens, for example, pitched in the majors from 1984 through 2007. That’s 24 years to chronicle, day by day by day by day. It’s hard and long and lonely. And while, compared to many, I have no right to complain—well, this is my blog. So I’ll complain.

I’m worn out.

As I’ve said in this blog before, like Joe Biden, mine was not an easy upbringing. I was raised on the tough streets of Mahopac, N.Y., where every day I would have to walk—literally walk—200 yards uphill to wait for the bus. At Mahopac High School, where the walls bled stories of past gun fights and knife battles, there were times when the cafeteria ran out of potato puffs, and I’d stare down at a plate with just square pizza and liquidy canned pears. Because both my parents were away, trying to put food on the table for their two kids, I often had to fend for myself without guidance. I would come home hungry, and instead of my mother warmly offering me a bounty of candy and cookies, I’d be greeted by a cold, stale bag of Goldfish crackers. I still remember those sleepless nights, wondering whether there’d be a next morning, or whether darkness would always consume my world.

But now, finally, my luck has changed!

Today, I received this letter in my in-box from a godsend of a man named Kelvin Kumar:

Dear Sir / Madam,

I admit that this may come to you as a surprise, but I would advice that you consider
it as a request from a family in dare need of assistance.

I am Kelvin Kumar the son of late Mr. Mike Kumar of Gowanda town in Zimbabwe;
I got your contact information wile browsing through the internet in my search for a
reliable and God-fearing person that can be of help to me in transferring the sum of Fifteen
Million U.S Dollars ($15,000,000.00) only out of Nigeria.

My late father before his death, as a result of brutalization by the government of President
Robert Mugabe because of his participation with white farmers, intended this amount for the purchase of new farm machineries and tools. After the death of my parents I fled to Nigeria where I am currently leaving as a refugee.

Weeks after my parents death in June 22nd.2004 (A day that is still fresh in my mind) our family lawyer told me that my late father had filed a document with him which stipulates his “WILL”. The sum of Fifteen Million U.S Dollars (U.S$15,000,000.00).

I will appreciate if you can assist me in transferring this for investment purposes in your country for your assistance in this regard, I have decided to go into partnership with you, or otherwise give you some percentage of the money as my sign of appreciation for your help. Please I will like you to contact me with this email if this interests you. Hoping that you consider my situation and help me.

God bless you,
Kelvin.

No longer will my children have to feel the pain of their father’s brutal past! No longer will I wear the scars of my youth! No longer will I eat at Boston Market Chicken, where the pot pie is overpriced and seems a bit stale! Thanks to Kelvin, my life is about to change!

I will help you, dear Kelvin. I will help you …