This is my first blog in at least over a year. I am dedicating it to the memory of Megan Meier.

Many of you may have been following the story of Megan Meier. Megan was a 13 year old girl. According to news reports, she has had problems fitting in and had been battling with depression. But things were looking up for Megan. She struck up a friendship with a 16 year old boy named Josh on MySpace. Megan found him attractive.

They never met. "Josh" said that his family had just moved to the area, was home schooled and he did not have a phone number yet. Then one day, "Josh" had turned on her. He told her in a message that she was no good to anybody and that the world would be a better place without her. After receiving the message, Megan had hung herself. This was on October 17, 2006. Just weeks before her 14th birthday.

As it turns out, Josh did not exist. Josh was a hoax created by Lori Drew. Drew is the mother of a classmate of Megan's. Lori created Josh with the motive of gaining Megan's trust, making her think that Josh liked her, only to turn on Megan later. This was all because Drew was trying to get back at Megan for allegedly spreading rumors of her own daughter. I guess it worked.

On November 26, 2008, a Federal jury found Drew guilty on misdemeanor hacking charges. This comes 20 days after Megan would have celebrated her 16th birthday. Drew had violated the terms of agreement for MySpace by creating a false profile with false information. Drew could spend three years in jail.

The charges were a bit of a long shot. There was outrage from the community, and demanded justice. Murder was not an option, as there was no intent for Megan to die. Manslaughter really doesn't fit the bill either. Long shot or not, I was happy to see the verdict. After all, a young girl is dead due to Drew's actions. It would have been bad enough if it was a real 16 year old boy, and did all of this to tease a classmate. But this was a grown woman who resorted to childlike antics. And what kind of lesson did she teach her own daughter? If someone is spreading rumors about you, strike back with mean and immature practices?

Three years for faking a profile seems to be a harsh sentence, but really is a bargain given that there was a death involved. Some worry that this may affect freedom of speech, but I don't think it will. Sure, people are free to say and write anything they wish. But there are still consequences for what you do publish. If you lie, are not charged with Libel or Slander? If someone yells, "Fire!" in a crowded, public building, are you not charged with causing a riot? The freedom of speech does not give us a free pass to publish lies or to cause physical or mental harm. Drew did both of these, and it was right to press for charges against her.

I think the real lesson for the rest of us, is to try to remember how are actions affect others. You never really know how close to the edge a person is. You never know how much of a push may send them over that edge. Perhaps, instead of giving someone a push, we should all look for ways to give out a hand to bring someone off of that edge.

My entire summer was dedicated to work. But as you can see, it was worth it.

The flash of the camera is reflecting off the TV. But you get the jist.

The good:

And the name for this guy is:

Arnold! It was close between Arnold and Dimples. Spanky got some votes as well. Thanks to Taylor's mom for the winning suggestion, and to Kathy and Justin for the other two finalists.

And now for the bad and the ugly. Or an ass of another color.

We're getting close to having a name for this guy:

Thank you to everyone for your great ideas. It was a difficult choice. I have narrowed the options to three finalists.

1. Arnold
2. Spanky
3. Dimples

What are everybody's thoughts?

eMy ass needs a name. You can see a picture of him in my blog header. He's quickly become my new icon, and I think he deserves a name.

(Yes, I can post a blog that is not a tribute to a dead person.)

I will accept entries in a form of a comment to this blog.
There is no purchase necessary (which is nice because I'm not selling anything.)
I'll keep it going for at least one week. Longer if I'm getting a big response.
You can post as many ideas as you wish.

If I have more than one good idea, I'll post a tie-breaker blog.

Winner will have a blog dedicated to them.

Post away!

Why did thousands assemble for a candle light vigil for John Lennon?
Why did thousands more lay flowers and post cards at Buckingham Palace for Lady Diana?
When a famous Hollywood actor or actress passes away, so we lay parting gifts on their Hollywood walk-of-fame star?

We didn't know them. Not really. We feel like we do sometimes, as we watch them in the roles that made them famous. But we did not know them on a personal level. They are not our family members, our friends or even our business associates. So when a celebrity passes on, why do we weep? Why do we mourn?

Is it because of the movies that they acted in, or the songs they wrote or sang? Is it for the home runs they hit or the games they won? Could be. But It's actually more simple than that. Much more simple.

The answer is that these things, these celebrities, become a part of who we are. These are the things that tap into the very core of our emotions. They make us laugh during comedies. They make our hearts race during thrillers. They make us cry during dramas. The songs find a way to get the exact moment, the exact emotion that we want to feel. That we need to feel.

The sports teams, athletes and coaches, they represent who we are. They give us memories, reasons to celebrate. The games often unite us. It's been written about in movies. City Slickers and Field of Dreams both touch on baseball, and how it unites father and son. That baseball is the only thing that could even do it.

When Bill Walsh passed away on Monday, I was taken back. It was not a surprise. He was battling leukemia. Truth be told, he is in a better place now that he is no longer suffering. He wasn't my father or my friend. I never met the man. So why do I weep for him?

The answer is still the simplistic explanation that I referred to earlier. The San Francisco 49ers are part of who I am. It is a part of who I used to be. And Bill Walsh was the San Francisco 49ers.

Bill Walsh is the days of my childhood friends. He was the Sunday afternoons watching football with my grandpa. He was the scratching my dog's head as he laid his head on my leg while I enjoyed a game during a winter day. He was my friend and I chanting Super, Super Bowl! Bowl! as we celebrated the 49ers third trip to the big dance. He was our bragging rights and our dominance and our legacy. Some of those things I didn't even knew what they meant at the time.

Legacy aside, the 49ers and Bill Walsh were a huge part of my childhood. They were some of the best parts of that era. We can talk about the impact that he left on the team and on the sport as a whole. We can talk about his efforts to promote diversity and his efforts to get more black head coaches into the game. We can talk about the west-coast offense, and the army of coaches that went on to be successful because of him. Not even to talk about the very long list of football players that owe their careers to him.

But what means the most to me was a cold, winter day, back when I was about 12 or 13 or 14 or so, watching a 49ers game with Bill Walsh at the helm. My dog's head is on my leg as I'm scratching him behind the ear. Those are the moments that make me mourn the loss of one of football's greatest minds.

Former San Francisco 49ers head coach, Bill Walsh, has died today. At the moment, I'm too broken up for words. For now, I'll repost the blog that I posted for him back in November of last year.

34-24-1 record as head coach of the Stanford University Cardinal. 102-63-1 record as a head coach for the San Francisco 49ers. 3 Super Bowl wins. The innovator of the West Coast offense. And now comes the biggest fight of his life.

On Friday, Bill Walsh announced that he has leukemia. He has actually been fighting this for two years. His comments to the press seemed positive. He's still fighting, so I'm not going to dwell on the negatives, just yet.

With the news, I felt it necessary to talk about how much Walsh has meet to fans in Northern California. Before Walsh, the 49ers were going through one of the worst stints in their history. Nine losing seasons in a row. Even before that, the team's best seasons were losses to Dallas in the NFC championship game.

It was Walsh who drafted Joe Montana in the third round of the 1979 draft. He also drafted Ronnie Lott and Jerry Rice during his tenure. Both oh whom are the all time greats in the NFL. It was Walsh who masterminded the most creative offensive schemes in NFL history. Walsh even drafted the "squib" kick. Walsh was the first coach to win 18 games in one season.

In January 1982, the 49ers faced the Dallas Cowboys for the NFC championship, again. Down 21-20 with the clock ticking down, Joe Montana through a pass into the end zone, and TE Dwight Clark had to leap in the air to make the catch to score the touchdown. The play has become known as "The Catch". It was what put the 49ers on the map, and led to the first of five Super Bowl wins.

The play looked like it was a throw away pass by Montana, to keep from getting sacked, and a lucky leap by Clark. But the play was designed that way, by the genius Walsh. They practiced that very play during training season. And it was that play that is forever remembered by faithful 49er fans.

I know Walsh will not read this. But, I pledge my thoughts and prayers to your health and recovery. It's the least I can do, for a man who means so much for this community. You gave us a lot of great memories, and some of the best teams of all time.

RIP. The 49er faithful will miss you a lot.

Sorry I haven't been around much. I've recently went from a 50 hour work week to a 56 hour work week. It's likely to be that kind of pace through the end of August. But I'm really enjoying my job after my promotion, and the pay is very nice. Plus, there are incentives to be had. At the pace that I go through applications, I could earn in the neighborhood of 500 to 700 dollars in gift certificates. (Mind you, this is after taxes, not before.) So I may not have much of a summer, but by winter I could be watching ER on HDTV.

Given the hours I'm working, it's just been too hard to keep up on the boards and on blogs. But this is only temporary as we get caught up on a backlog of applications for a new and popular product. It is not anticipated that they'll need me to work overtime in September or thereafter. But that's why it's so important to work as much OT as I can now. Come September, it may not even be an option. I should play Green Day's Wake Me Up When September Ends during this paragraph.

Speaking of September, I have a pretty big month in store. I've been saving my vacation days and I'll need them. My best friend is getting married, and yours truly will be serving as best man. That will be 9-22. I'll be taking the week off before that in case he'll need help. I'm taking 9-10 and 9-11 off. (I vowed I would never work on 9-11 again unless I had to.) On 9-10 I'll be going to San Francisco for a 49ers/Cardinals game to kick off the football season. On 9-7, I'm kidnapping the married-man-to-be and we're doing a 24-hour trip to Las Vegas for his bachelor party. I'm very excited about that, as I've never been to Vegas. I've been to Reno, as it's a two-hour trip from where I'm at.

Enough about me, onto the other half of my blog title. July 16 marked an anniversary of two events that I found highly ironic. On July 16, 1969, Apollo 11 left earth's orbit and started its journey towards the moon. In four days, Neil Armstrong and Edwin "Buzz" Alrin would become the first two men to set foot on the moon. On July 16, 1999, a plane crashed near Martha's Vineyard killing three people. John F Kennedy Jr, his wife Carolyn Bessette and her sister Lauren Bessette were the three people killed. The irony was that on July 16, President John Kennedy's legacy of promising to land on the moon was about to be realized. And on July 16, the other Kennedy legacy was being relived, being killed young. Thirty years to the day.

The first baseball game I ever went to, the first sporting event of any kind for that matter, was a Giants versus Pirates match up on my tenth birthday. It was a present given to me by a college girl who used to watch me for my mother. As sitters go, she was my favorite, and she's a big reason why I am a Giants fan to this day. The game was, of course, at Candlestick Park. The Stick, as any true Giants fan would refer to it, even long after corporations bought their sponsorship rights to the stadium. The Giants blew out the Pirates that day, 12-1. It was back when the Pirates still had the black caps with three yellow stripes around the halo of the cap.

As a true, life-long Giants fan, it would be irresponsible of me to not take pause to remember one of the most loved Giants of our era. Relief Pitcher Rod "Shooter" Beck was found dead in his home today at the age of 38.

Beck had a nasty fastball that made him a successful closing pitcher throughout his career. He has the second most saves in Giants Franchise history with 199. He held the record for the club for six years, when Robb Nen broke the record in 2003. Beck finished his career with 286 saves and had a 3.30 career ERA. He pitched for the Giants, Cubs, Red Sox and Padres. His best two years were in 1993 and 1998, when he had 48 saves for the Giants and then 51 saves for the Cubs, respectively. He was on the mound to get saves that put the Giants into the playoffs in 1997 and again for the Cubs in 1998. Sadly, it was a game against the Giants to settle a tiebreaker for a Wild Card spot in 1998. But I forgive him, because it was at least the Cubs and not the hated Dodgers.

Beck was a reliable pitcher throughout his career. He was the kind of athlete who wanted to pitch in every game, wanted the ball in his hands when it was all on the line. This is certainly shown during the two games that helped his clubs make into the playoffs. He also had the handlebar mustache that certainly made him look like your typical ball player.

Beck does; however, have a black mark on his career. It came to an end when his demons could no longer be controlled, and his ball playing days succumbed to his drug habit. Sadly, it is a strong possibility that it also cost him his life. It is certainly not forgone, but when a 38-year-old man suddenly dies in other than an accident, the odds suggest that it would be the drugs. It's as disappointing as it is sad.

I choose to remember him for his on the field heroics, rather than off the field. Drug addiction; after all, is a disease. One of which that is almost impossible to escape from, when its fierce jaws gets a hold of its victim. And that's how I choose to remember the tragedy of Beck's life. He was a victim.

So for the ten-year-old heart inside of me, that still remembers his first live Giants game, I am thankful for the likes of Rod Beck. He helped build a ball club that I was proud to root for. I also know that my old sitter, Julie would have been proud of the Beck era as well. (She wound up running a comic book and baseball card store with her husband. How cool is that?)

The ten-year-old kid that still lives inside of me thanks you, Rod Beck. This ten-year-old kid will miss you. Rest in Piece.

Twenty years ago at West Berlin, Germany, under the shadows of the Berlin wall, President Ronald Reagan gave one of the most powerful speeches of his political career. I'm not up to starting a political or policy debate. You may not like his politics or his policies, but then man knew how to deliver a speech. June 12, 1987, Reagan gave what would become his Hallmark speech. I'll let the words speak for themselves.

"And now the Soviets themselves may, in a limited way, be coming to understand the importance of freedom. We hear much from Moscow about a new policy of reform and openness. Some political prisoners have been released. Certain foreign news broadcasts are no longer being jammed. Some economic enterprises have been permitted to operate with greater freedom from state control.

"Are these the beginnings of profound changes in the Soviet state? Or are they token gestures, intended to raise false hopes in the West, or to strengthen the Soviet system without changing it? We welcome change and openness; for we believe that freedom and security go together, that the advance of human liberty can only strengthen the cause of world peace. There is one sign the Soviets can make that would be unmistakable, that would advance dramatically the cause of freedom and peace.

"General Secretary Gorbachev, if you seek peace, if you seek prosperity for the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe, if you seek liberalization: Come here to this gate! Mr. Gorbachev, open this gate! Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!'"

Reagan was so charismatic, that Gorbachev could not help but like him. It may have been the key element in negotiating the end of the cold war. When Reagan died, Gorbachev flew to America to be at the funeral. During the 60s, 70s and 80s, who would have ever thought that a former leader of the Soviet Union would take part in bidding tribute to a former leader of the United States?