Will the Gambling Commission Go After ESPN?

Every morning I check ESPN.com to see what’s new in the world of sports. Today on the homepage I saw this:

I was particularly interested in that bottom line:

Millman: Ideas for betting on the Super Bowl

It got me to thinking: Will the Washington State Gambling Commission go after ESPN?

If the Commission is to be consistent, I don’t know why they wouldn’t. After all, Commission Director Rick Day is on record as saying that linking to gambling websites or talking about them in a favorable way constitutes “aiding and abetting” illegal gambling.

One possible defense is that Washington law does not apply to ESPN because Chris Berman’s employer is located in Bristol, Connecticut. That defense shouldn’t work, however, because ESPN is accessible in Washington state. When the Gambling Commission enlisted authorities in Louisiana to come after me in 2007, it took the position that so long as a website was accessible in a state, the law of that state applied to its operations and management. Not only that, but when a site is accessible in a state it means that management is present in that state. That’s what they said when they had Betcha.com in their crosshairs. Two employees and I were “present” in Louisiana because Betcha was accessible there. We were so “present,” in fact, that Louisiana (and the Gambling Commission?) wanted us held without bail as fugitives from justice. I hadn’t been to Bayou State since 1994. My colleagues had never been there in their lives.

I’d hate to make a wager, but I betcha the Gambling Commission won’t be taking a bite at ESPN for its alleged aiding and abetting a violation of state and federal law. That would be too out in the open, not like when they came after us.

Besides they probably won’t have time. Right now they’re working overtime to get the state legislature to make Betcha illegal once and for all.

If you can’t beat ‘em, just change the rules.

Archie Jenkins (1998-2010)

Archie, the family Norwegian elkhound, Ollie’s brother and my first son, passed away unexpectedly yesterday. He was eleven years, four months old — about eighty in doggie years.

I welcomed Archie to the Jenkins family in the fall of 1998, a few months after we played the first Greenspan Cup. Actually, other than me, Archie was the Jenkins family back then. I named him after Archie Bunker. We lived the spectrum of life together. We lived with roommates for a while as best bud bachelors, welcomed his little sis’ Ollie a few years later, Ronnie, Murphy and Sarah some years after that, then Reese and then Finn. We lived most of Archie’s life at the Green Lake house, then the last year in Laurelhurst. He was inextricably part of me.

Archie and I snowshoeing, circa 2000.

With his sister Ollie.

His passing came out of the blue. Until recently, he was the model of health. In the last few years he developed a few cysts on his body, but the vet told us they were benign. On Saturday night, however, he suffered what appeared to be a minor stroke. Sunday morning everything seemed back to normal — he was barking at passers-by as per usual and even snatched some of Reese’s leftover breakfast off the counter, as was his want. That afternoon I found him passed on the backyard deck, just a few feet away from the family that loved him so. No pain, no suffering, handsome as ever.

Ronnie and I have lots of great Archie memories — too many to recite here if I hope to get through this entry without completely bawling. (Too late.) Ronnie will no doubt remember him for his unbelievable ability to grab food off the counter, no matter how out of reach it seemed. (He had quite a set of tippy toes.) We’ll both remember his vanity — he had a regal way about him and, with a few rare exceptions, refused to poop in public. I’ll remember him as the one who was always there to greet me at the door, always with a smile and his curly tail wagging, as if to say “Welcome home, dad.” (A warm welcome home is one of life’s great, underappreciated pleasures and he gave me mine — unconditionally.) No one welcomed me today –I missed him more than I can put to words.

Archie and his mom, circa 2006.

With a newborn Reese in 2007.

At Ollie's birthday party, circa 2007.

Ever the optimist at the dinner table.

On a very cold night in 2006.

I always said that if Archie was a person he'd be George Clooney, but conservative.

Some kinda handsome.

Family passings are never easy, but I can’t complain I was cheated. When you add it up I’m pretty sure I have spent more aggregate time with Archie than any other living being during my 40+ years on earth. In fact, I logged more time with him than I have with Ronnie, Reese and Finn combined to date. Save for a few unfortunate meal choices — my two couches and my grandpa’s leather chair immediately come to mind — he was a pleasure every moment. He was always loyal, always friendly and good with the kids, not a mean bone in his body.

I hope I was as good a dad to him as he was a son to me. I think I was, but at times like this we’re prone to second-guessing. I’ll know more when we meet next. Hopefully he’ll meet me at heaven’s gate, curly tail wagging, as if to say “welcome home, Dad, welcome home.”

Back to the Kitsap Peninsula — Sort Of

Last summer I went out to the Kitsap Peninsula at least five times — twice to surf, once for a Civil War re-enactment, twice for golf. That’s five times more than I’d been out there the previous five years.

The season’s different and the calendar’s changed, but I still seem drawn to the peninsula. Today the fam joined the Cheuks for a quick day trip out to Kingston. We didn’t do much — caught a ferry, had lunch in Kingston, caught a ferry back — but those sorts of lazy days make up this thing called life.

A few pics:

Mom and Reese chatting away with Mito and Sophia.

A self portrait.

Ninn, admiring the view.

Norman, hard at work.

Dad and son.

Reese and Sophia at lunch.

Ferry fun.

My New Addiction: Yahoo! Fantasy Golf

This year was my first into the foray of fantasy sports. In the fall it was football. Now, golf on Yahoo. My Greenspan buddy Brad Nelson is the commish of Greenspan FGC. 15 guys, mostly Greenspanners.

Week 1 is now in the books. My lineup for the SBS Championship — Steve Stricker, Rory Sabbatini, Sean O’Hair and Matt Kuchar — was good enough to put me in solo second place, one point ahead of Jeff Benezra. Sabbatini, in particular, lit it up on Sunday.

Rory Sabbatini served me well in Week 1.

Next up — the Hawaiian Open.

I can tell you right now that if/when Reese and Finn read this 15 years from now, I’ll still be playing fantasy golf. This stuff is a serious blast.

A Great Place to Watch Wig Cutting

Tonight we joined the Naffs, Cheuks and Benezra for dinner at Shiki, an authentic Japanese place in lower Queen Anne. Norman picked the place, and he nailed it. They prepared three dishes of okonomoyaki for us — all off menu — and then fed us like royalty.

As impressive as the food was what they had on TV. It was Japanese TV and the feature was wig cutting — yes, wig cutting. The feature seemed to run forever, and I gotta tell you, every guy in the place appeared mesmorized — especially Ted. Never thought wig cutting could be so captivating.

A few pics:

Shiki, very goodie.

Using a metal fork for the first time.

That's one way to use chop sticks.

Saying Goodbye to an Old Friend

This afternoon I joined Ted and Sarah Naff at the memorial service for Perry Lorenzo. Perry – “Mr. Lorenzo” to me – was a teacher of mine at Kennedy High School during my junior and senior years. He lost a years-long battle with cancer last week. He was 51.

Recalling twenty years of education that took me from West Seattle Pre-School to Georgetown Law, Mr. Lorenzo was the best and most influential teacher I ever had.

Perry Lorenzo, as I remember him.

And it wasn’t close.

I can’t sit here twenty-some years later and articulate exactly why that was. But I can say Mr. Lorenzo was a guy who stuck with me. I was a wanna-be intellectual in a school of jocks – he was the real deal, a true renaissance man. To quote a poster on the Seattle Opera blog, “Perry was erudite without being stuffy, polished without a trace of snobbery, and opinionated without making one holding an opposite opinion feel defensive or lacking. Like no-one (sic) else I can think of, he exemplified the time-honored phrase ‘a gentleman and a scholar.’” (I was voted Most Intellectual my senior year largely, I think, because my classmates knew I was one of his followers – and because teachers weren’t eligible.) His knowledge of the arts, literature and Catholicism was encyclopedic even then – and the guy was in his twenties. (A look at his blog suggests that knowledge and passion never waned.) He taught Debate and Great Ideas, among other subjects of arts and rhetoric. My great idea was to not debate against him — a loss was certain.

More memorable than what Mr. Lorenzo taught was how he taught it. My meager words cannot do his charisma justice. His passion for his subjects was unlike anything I had seen before, have seen since, or expect to see again. He just had It — and he oozed it. Had he not had such a love of sharing and teaching he could have pursued a career on stage. If modern American teachers brought even a modicum of the passion and energy to their jobs that Mr. Lorenzo brought to his, our education system would not only not be blighted. It would be the envy of the modern world.

Mr. Lorenzo influenced his students in life-changing and profound ways. He steered Ted toward a Catholic college education, where Ted met his wife Sarah. (They remain deeply in the Catholic faith.) It is because of him that Norman Cheuk went to Whitman and not the University of Washingon, my alma mater. David Legge, two years behind me at JFK, became a priest after attending Claremont McKenna and Yale Law – largely, I hear, because of Perry’s influence. And these are just guys I know.

In later years.

Mr. Lorenzo’s influence on me was more subtle but no less enduring. He steered me to modern, intellectual conservatism. Mr. Lorenzo taught me to think about why I thought what I thought – ultimately, in a world of sheeple, more important than the what. He introduced me to George Will, William F. Buckley and the latter’s National Review. His stiff-lipped impressions of Mr. Buckley I recall today with a fond chuckle, and I read National Review to this day. Mr. Lorenzo once told me – in front of my classmates, mind you – that I had a crooked way about me. That is, when I stood or sat my shoulders seemed to be going one way, my lower body another. He said I was like James Dean that way. Not sure if this was a compliment or insult, but I’ve thought about it often as I seek a reason why I can’t hit a golf ball straight to save my life.

I regret I lost touch with Mr. Lorenzo over the years although, given the number of people at St. James Cathedral today (600+), I don’t think he suffered for want of relationships. I can count on one hand the times I saw him since my high school days. The last time was probably ten years ago at a Seattle dinner club. He was there to give a talk about the Seattle Opera, where he spent the last several years of his life and, from what I gather, may very well have owned the place. Frankly I don’t remember what he said because I was so enamored with how he was saying it. Mesmorizing.

Mr. Lorenzo left this world way too soon, but it was clear even a decade on that he was spending his life doing what he loved.

We should all be so lucky.

Well, It Wasn’t My Most Masculine Day

Yesterday, Ronnie received a copy of “Living Oprah: My One-Year Experiment to Walk the Walk of the Queen of Talk.” It’s a book about a gal in Chicago who, in 2008, followed all of Oprah’s advise that year. From the show, the magazine, the God knows what else there is out there in Oprah-land.

The grantor was not Santa Claus but me.

I read this book cover to cover.

Today I spent the day horizontal.

I read it from cover to cover. That’s the first time I’ve ever read an entire book in a single day. Save, of course, the ten or so ten-pagers I read to Reese every day.

I won’t go into a full review here — no doubt there are lots of them on Amazon.com — but I will say I’ve spent worse Saturday afternoons.

To my two readers, one of whom is the book’s owner — I say give it a read.

Christmas Day During a Recession

Today we celebrated the birthday of our Lord and Savior. My 41st such celebration, Ronnie’s 44th, Reese’s third and Finn’s second. Finn and I were a smidge under the weather and weren’t in much of a celebrating mood, but that didn’t keep us from a full day. We spent Christmas morning under the tree, me playing with our just-dusted-off camcorder, Ronnie snapping a pic any time someone moved. A few of them:

I thought we were in a recession ...

Opening literally dozens of presents ain't easy.

Here, something else you can't live without ...

I can get used to this ...

There's a reason this is an elephant and not a donkey.

It is RAINING stuff ...

Now baby No No has a penguin with whom to hang.

Very. Hard. Work.

Later we trekked over to the Otterlees for a fantastic din din courtesy of Jayne and her mom Lynn. Again, the camera was out and often:

The hostesses.

Big Otter, Little Otter.

A pre-dinner chill session.

Is he SALUTING her?

You Don’t See This Everyday

Today the Jenkins family attended a mid-day Christmas Eve party at a friend of Ronnie’s digs. We turned the corner to this gal’s house and to our surprise what did we see but a full-grown camel standing in front of our destination. It was within a cage, mind you, but I wasn’t expecting it and I’m certain Reese wasn’t. It was her first camel.

A few pics from the party:

Reese's first camel.

A good-looking llama.

Reese, Finn and a baby black sheep.

The Christmas Ship at LBC

Last night we joined the Cheuks down at the Laurelhurst Beach club to watch the Argosy Christmas fleet go by. It was not warm — then again, it is December. A few pics:

The fam. Not warm that night.

The Cheuks, with Norman doing his best Devo impression.

The fleet was a lot more impressive in person.

This is about as close as we could get to getting everyone to look at the camera.

A little after dinner snack.