Is Tiger out of the Woods? He is with me.

Last Friday, Eldrick “Tiger” Woods, the world’s greatest golfer (and “Player of the Year” in more than one way), made a tearful statement telling the world he was sorry for his numerous indiscretions.

I am not blogging today to judge whether or not he was sincere; I will keep those comments to myself. What I am writing about is simply this: What has this gossip-centered planet come to when he has to apologize to the entire world?

He certainly doesn’t owe me an apology. He didn’t do anything to me.

How about you? Did he do anything to you? Didn’t think so.

He DOES owe an apology to his wife, his family and everyone else who has an important place in his life (but especially his wife). Whether his wife or the others accept his apology is up to them.

If he did the public statement to repair his public image (to get advertising dollars back), that’s one thing. If he did it because he felt he really needed or wanted to, that’s another.

I don’t like the things he did – and the number of times it appears he went astray. I feel genuine sympathy for the pain his wife is going through on a very public stage.

But he doesn’t have to worry about appeasing me with fancy speeches or emotional breakdowns. Mr. Woods owes me zip, zilch, nada … nothing.

Tuesday Weisblog: Lottery winner pays the ultimate penalty

I don’t know exactly what was going through Abraham Shakespeare’s mind when he won the Florida Lottery in 2006 to the tune of $30 million. I feel pretty confident, however, that he didn’t think he would be deceased, especially since he was only 40 years of age at the time.

Yet here we are three years later, and Shakespeare’s remains were recently discovered underneath a concrete slab in a Polk County, Florida home. I have to hand it to the local Sheriff … he says he views it as a homicide. He’s quick on his feet. He’s already ruled out the possibility that Mr. Shakespeare killed himself, then dug a hole, buried himself – and while buried, poured a concrete slab over the top of himself. He’s also ruled out that he died of natural causes, which would have then been followed by the above unlikely chain of events.

You just can’t put anything past the Polk County Sheriff’s department.

At any rate, they actually do have someone they call “a person of interest.” It seems that a Dorice “Dee Dee” Moore decided to become Mr. Shakespeare’s friend shortly after he hit the jackpot. It is also worth noting that she has been accused of scamming Shakespeare out of some of his money. (She has acknowledged “moving” $2 million of his money into her own account, among other things.)

Oh yeah, almost forgot one other “little” detail … they found Shakespeare’s remains underneath the house she and her boyfriend own. A person of interest? You betcha, as they say in Canada.

For her part, Moore recently told the Tampa Tribune that she “expects to be arrested,” but that she would never kill anyone. “I would never take another human’s life. No amount of money is worth that.”

Guess the courts will decide that, eventually … assuming they decide Dee Dee is “interesting” enough to prosecute.

Abraham Shakespeare was a humble truck driver’s assistant who received the miracle of sudden riches and instant celebrity. He didn’t know what to do with it all. In fact, he allegedly told many people during his last days he wished he’d never won … and now he’s dead.

How sad is that?

Friday Weisblog: With Drew and Peyton ‘Manning’ the QB spots, the Super Bowl will be a ‘Brees’

In my last correspondence, I told you all about what was wrong with this year’s Super Bowl. What’s right with the game deserves equal time, so here goes …

Drew Brees led the NFL in touchdown passes this season. Peyton Manning was the league’s Most Valuable player. It could be rightly argued that each means more to his respective team than any two other players in the entire league – including the elderly #4 in purple.

But the goodness goes beyond that. These are two guys who are genuinely fine, upstanding people. They seem to always do and say the right things – and manage to stay off the rap sheet. What a concept!

Brees signed with the Saints four years ago when he could have gone to teams that were then far more glamorous than the Saints, who had recently suffered the devastation of Hurricane Katrina. He felt it was his calling to play there, and he and the Saints fans have developed a unique love affair for each other. He’s thrown for more than 4,000 yards four years in a row, including a mind-boggling 5,069 in 2008.

Meanwhile, Manning came into the NFL as the the top selection in the 1998 draft – and he has more than lived up to the hype. He’s thrown for more than 4,000 yards 10 of his 12 years, and has NEVER thrown fewer than 26 touchdown passes in any season, including his rookie campaign. The son of Archie Manning, ironically the Saints’ best-ever signal caller until Brees came to town, Peyton may very well go down as the best to ever play the game if he continues on his current pace.

This is a rare year. I will be happy with either team that wins the big game, largely because of their quarterback.

NOTE: Speaking of quarterbacks, kudos to Kurt Warner, who announced his retirement from the Arizona Cardinals today. Another of the league’s true gentleman, his was a true rags-to-riches story. Warner went from bagging groceries to the Arena League to NFL stardom, and he certainly belongs in the Hall of Fame. I think he gets there eventually.

Tuesday Weisblog: She was going pee when her fellow commissioners were going, “Yay,” or “Nay”

OK, so I had to resort to a little bathroom humor. A little juvenile, perhaps. But it actually fits … keep reading.

Wake County, North Carolina is not a big place. They have just seven county commissioners, and one, Democrat Harold Webb, had just suffered a stroke and was forced to step down. The candidate up for replacement was one Tony Gurley, a member of the GOP.

Discussion was spirited and the votes continued to come back 3-3 over and over again … in fact, they voted 13 times that way. At that point, Betty Lou Ward could take it no more and made an unscheduled “pit stop.”

When she returned, there was Gurley sitting in the commissioner’s chair, the result of a 3-2 vote that took place while she was using the facilities.

“Thanks, guys,” she said, tongue-in-cheek, when she returned from her powder room respite and saw him sitting there.

If that’s not strange enough, the commissioners’ next order of business was to elect a vice chairman. This time, the vote came down to a choice of Ward or Commissioner Paul Coble. Again … multiple deadlocks at three. More than five hours later, it still was not settled, and Commissioner Stan Norwalk, a diabetic, made a motion to order sandwiches due to his medical condition. This vote barely passed 4-2!

By 11 p.m. the commissioners voted more than 100 times, each one coming in at 3-3; the Democrats voting for Ward and the Republicans for Coble. Motions to recess or adjourn the meeting were dismissed, and the madness continued.

Finally, at 2 a.m. Commissioner Norwalk again asked for a recess because he hadn’t gotten his insulin shot. Coble then ended the political posturing, proclaiming that he “would not sit here and put Mr. Norwalk at risk.” A new vote ensued and Ward won 5-1, with Gurley being the sole Commissioner voting “no.”

It just goes to show that sometimes in the world of politics, it’s the party whose members have the strongest bladders that win the day.

Note: Thanks to my friend Trace who told me about this rather unusual political gathering.

Tuesday Weisblog: Her ‘cutting’ comments got her in trouble

Emily Walton is a not only a veterinarian, she’s also a Hancock County, Ohio County Commissioner. Apparently, Ms. Walton has upset one of her community members to the point that he is calling for her resignation.

It all stems from an incident that happened September 3. On that day, Walton and Jeff Davidson were engaging in a somewhat spirited discussion about a community drainage issue. Walton became agitated at Davidson and told him that she “wanted to castrate him and had the tools to do it.”

Bob Barker would be proud. (If you don’t get the joke, it’s not funny enough to explain. Just move on.)

“Sometimes things don’t go your way, and sometimes you have to raise your voice … but you don’t threaten to castrate somebody,” Davidson explained. “If she can’t manage her temper, and manage the words that come out of her mouth, she should resign.”

I tend to agree with him.

For her part, Walton’s explanation was a simple one: “That is a well-known, tongue-in-cheek comment that I have used for years and which people with half a sense of humor understand.” She also mentioned that she once, for comic relief, walked into a former mayor’s office carrying “a big white bag of tools,” though she never specifically mentioned castration.

I take offense to Ms. Walton’s actions for several reasons:
(1) She is a public official who should be acting appropriately.

(2) I am a male. If she had the same “equipment” I do, she may not be quite so liberal with her usage of the “c” word. It makes me wince just to think about it.

(3) If a male had said something off-color to a female, there would be much more made of this story, and I am 99.9% sure the male government official would be forced to resign.

Ms. Walton got her government post running unopposed last election. Something tells me that if she makes it through her term, she’ll have some competition next time around.

Friday Weisblog: Remembering 9/11

Much like everyone else, I still remember where I was on September 11, 2001. I was at work, at a company called Progressive Communications International in Lake Mary, FL.

One of my coworkers, Gilbert Cauthorn, regularly listened to news/talk radio on headphones. He gave us the report that the first plane had struck, and it didn’t even seem real, especially since we’d not seen any pictures at that point. It must have either been some guy with a death wish or a plane that simply went down, I remember thinking to myself. After all, we were the United States, and certainly no one would do anything that brash and calculated on our own soil.

Then the second plane hit, and by that point it was obvious to everyone what was happening. I was later to find out that a former coworker of mine at a local radio station had recently moved to New York to work in the Wall Street Journal building, which I understand is very close by. His account of that day is harrowing.

About two weeks after 9/11 I flew out to the area to see some of my clients in the greater New York area. This particular auto dealer, Paul Miller, dealt in high-end cars such as Bentley, Rolls-Royce, BMW, Land Rover, Porsche and more. Out of the goodness of his heart, he was taking back just-purchased vehicles (with no penalty) for people whose spouses had perished or been injured during the tragedy, who could no longer afford these big-ticket purchases. Very impressive, indeed.

That night, I decided to attend the New Jersey Devils NHL hockey game. It was their home opener – and I felt very privileged to be there. While the entire country mourned, it was nothing like the feelings experienced by those who lived right there in the immediate area.

Before the game began, there was a moment of silence honoring those whose lives were lost. Fifteen thousand people, and you could hear a pin drop. It was amazingly quiet, other than the tears being shed by those who felt a sense of loss. I had everything I could do to keep my own composure.

They also brought out the spouses of heroic firefighters who did not survive the ordeal. Again, the place was thick with emotion.

During the first intermission, they played a tape-delay of President Bush’s message to the country. A completely impromptu “USA … USA … USA!” chant broke out, and a mixture of pride and sadness filled my heart.

I guess what I am trying to say is, it was an unforgettable honor to be there. Eight years later, I still remember all of it vividly. Tomorrow, I’ll say a prayer for those who lost family members, friends and loved ones. I’ll give my well wishes to people like Paul Miller, who sacrificed a great deal for those who needed it – when they needed it most. And I’ll look back upon my trip to New York with a bittersweet feeling that will never leave me as long as I’m alive.