This is the most important question to me.
Commentary on Phelps and Pot...
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This is the most important question to me.
I enjoyed the dialogue and exchange of ideas. Thx to all.
For Phelps- at this point it simply boils down to whether or not he is willing to play the game. There is a canned formula for him to keep his endorsements and come out of this shining even brighter.
Apology- Check.
Accepting punishments levied against him (e.g. 3 month suspension)- In progress.
Letting his sponsors create distance from him- In progress.
Next he will probably need to do some sort of drug abuse program and upon completion volunteer to tell his story and become the Just Say No poster boy. Then he needs to win an event (The comeback).
This is how the game is played.
I will spare my commentary for now on what I think of the game.
For Phelps- at this point it simply boils down to whether or not he is willing to play the game. There is a canned formula for him to keep his endorsements and come out of this shining even brighter.
Apology- Check.
Accepting punishments levied against him (e.g. 3 month suspension)- In progress.
Letting his sponsors create distance from him- In progress.
Next he will probably need to do some sort of drug abuse program and upon completion volunteer to tell his story and become the Just Say No poster boy. Then he needs to win an event (The comeback).
This is how the game is played.
I will spare my commentary for now on what I think of the game.
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Which victimization are you referring to?
The guy has no more or less sense than most of us at age twenty something.
The green light was already there, FT for my kids and yours to screw up just a little or a lot long before Phelps.
If your kids try pot *because Phelps did it* then I have news for you-
They would have anyway.
this week's regular column by Peter Shelton, occasional SoWal visitor and MountainFilm MC, in the Telluride Watch:
Do You Want Fries With That Bong Hit?
by Peter Shelton
Feb 04, 2009 |
I admit it. I?m the guy who took that picture of Olympic hero Michael Phelps huffing on a bong. And then I sold it for some sweet economic stimulus to that English tabloid.
But I feel bad about it. I really do. I didn?t mean for Michael to get in trouble. I just wanted to encourage him to follow through on that deal we talked about the time he visited my grow-op out in Mendocino.
This was before he was famous, before he won his first six gold medals in Athens in 04. He was just 19, and he didn?t have the big sponsors he has now: Visa, Speedo, Mazda, McDonald?s, Kellogg?s Corn Flakes. And, of course, he hadn?t yet discovered his mystical connection to the dolphins.
I told him I was willing to take a chance on him. If he would be spokesperson for my Mendocino Medicinal, it?d be a win-win for everybody. I?d supply him with bud, my licensed, legal-in-the-state-of-California grow-op would prosper, and the acceptance of herb nationwide would get a boost. He seemed enthused at the time.
Here?s what happened that day. We were sitting on the beach out by Gualala, and Michael?s telling me about all the pressure on him to be perfect. He was just a kid, you know, but the pressure was huge, from his coaches, from his mom, and already from the media. He swam five hours a day, every friggin? day. Fifty miles a week. Talk about chlorine brain. He barely had a life, you know? Everybody telling him he was blessed with the perfect swimmer?s body, the biggest flipper feet and the hugest lungs. They expected so much. And he wanted it, too. But he didn?t know what it was.
So I fire up the ole bong and pass it over. He takes a drag, and I mean he drains the whole bowl, and then he holds it in for I don?t know how long. After about 30 seconds I bust out laughing, and he?s still going strong, like it was nothing, like he could hold his breath forever. Like he was Superman, or a fish or something. Which he was, I guess. Sort of. In the pool.
Anyway, he does finally exhale about five minutes later. And he?s got this little smile on his lips, and we pound a couple of PBRs and some chips. And then he stands up and rips off his jeans and his shirt and starts into the shore break. I followed the best I could, but you know, he?s Michael Phelps. And pretty soon we?re bobbing out beyond the break, laughing and looking at the sunlight sparkling off the water. And then we see fins.
At first I thought, Shark!, and my limbs made involuntary moves toward the beach. But Michael stroked straight out toward them with those pelican arms of his, and like that he was in with them, dolphins, arching their backs, diving and leaping over one another, ripping around. And then they disappear. Just like that. All of ?em, Michael too.
And I?m trippin? over rocks working my way back in, and looking out to sea at the same time and just tongue-tied, you know. I mean, what was I going to do, call out his name? There was nobody for miles. And I?m sitting there holding my knees and thinking this didn?t just happen, when way off I see this clean wind-milling of arms. And it?s Michael, alone, just a speck at first but comin? fast, cruising back in.
?They know,? he said when he was finally sitting beside me in the sand. ?They showed me. You have to embrace the water.? And that?s when I figured I could hitch my water pipe to this kid?s wagon, as it were.
So, Michael. If you?re reading this, I?m sorry about the tabloids, man. No harm intended. I understand you had to say what you said, that it was just a youthful indiscretion and that you promise your sponsors and fans that you won?t do it ever again. You had to say that, you?re on the friggin? corn flakes box. I know that. But I was hoping maybe we could rekindle our friendship. You know, hang out, fire one up, maybe go for a swim.
You could go in a different direction, sponsorship-wise, if you wanted to. Instead of Speedo, see, you could go with Da Kine board shorts. And instead of McDonald?s you could endorse Alfalfa?s markets or something. Instead of corn flakes, you could lend your name to a granola. See what I?m sayin??
You could be the man, Michael, the truth-telling man. Our last three presidents admitted to smoking pot. Half the people on the planet smoke weed. They say it isn?t a performance-enhancing drug. But you know better. You and the dolphins.
Do You Want Fries With That Bong Hit?
by Peter Shelton
Feb 04, 2009 |
I admit it. I?m the guy who took that picture of Olympic hero Michael Phelps huffing on a bong. And then I sold it for some sweet economic stimulus to that English tabloid.
But I feel bad about it. I really do. I didn?t mean for Michael to get in trouble. I just wanted to encourage him to follow through on that deal we talked about the time he visited my grow-op out in Mendocino.
This was before he was famous, before he won his first six gold medals in Athens in 04. He was just 19, and he didn?t have the big sponsors he has now: Visa, Speedo, Mazda, McDonald?s, Kellogg?s Corn Flakes. And, of course, he hadn?t yet discovered his mystical connection to the dolphins.
I told him I was willing to take a chance on him. If he would be spokesperson for my Mendocino Medicinal, it?d be a win-win for everybody. I?d supply him with bud, my licensed, legal-in-the-state-of-California grow-op would prosper, and the acceptance of herb nationwide would get a boost. He seemed enthused at the time.
Here?s what happened that day. We were sitting on the beach out by Gualala, and Michael?s telling me about all the pressure on him to be perfect. He was just a kid, you know, but the pressure was huge, from his coaches, from his mom, and already from the media. He swam five hours a day, every friggin? day. Fifty miles a week. Talk about chlorine brain. He barely had a life, you know? Everybody telling him he was blessed with the perfect swimmer?s body, the biggest flipper feet and the hugest lungs. They expected so much. And he wanted it, too. But he didn?t know what it was.
So I fire up the ole bong and pass it over. He takes a drag, and I mean he drains the whole bowl, and then he holds it in for I don?t know how long. After about 30 seconds I bust out laughing, and he?s still going strong, like it was nothing, like he could hold his breath forever. Like he was Superman, or a fish or something. Which he was, I guess. Sort of. In the pool.
Anyway, he does finally exhale about five minutes later. And he?s got this little smile on his lips, and we pound a couple of PBRs and some chips. And then he stands up and rips off his jeans and his shirt and starts into the shore break. I followed the best I could, but you know, he?s Michael Phelps. And pretty soon we?re bobbing out beyond the break, laughing and looking at the sunlight sparkling off the water. And then we see fins.
At first I thought, Shark!, and my limbs made involuntary moves toward the beach. But Michael stroked straight out toward them with those pelican arms of his, and like that he was in with them, dolphins, arching their backs, diving and leaping over one another, ripping around. And then they disappear. Just like that. All of ?em, Michael too.
And I?m trippin? over rocks working my way back in, and looking out to sea at the same time and just tongue-tied, you know. I mean, what was I going to do, call out his name? There was nobody for miles. And I?m sitting there holding my knees and thinking this didn?t just happen, when way off I see this clean wind-milling of arms. And it?s Michael, alone, just a speck at first but comin? fast, cruising back in.
?They know,? he said when he was finally sitting beside me in the sand. ?They showed me. You have to embrace the water.? And that?s when I figured I could hitch my water pipe to this kid?s wagon, as it were.
So, Michael. If you?re reading this, I?m sorry about the tabloids, man. No harm intended. I understand you had to say what you said, that it was just a youthful indiscretion and that you promise your sponsors and fans that you won?t do it ever again. You had to say that, you?re on the friggin? corn flakes box. I know that. But I was hoping maybe we could rekindle our friendship. You know, hang out, fire one up, maybe go for a swim.
You could go in a different direction, sponsorship-wise, if you wanted to. Instead of Speedo, see, you could go with Da Kine board shorts. And instead of McDonald?s you could endorse Alfalfa?s markets or something. Instead of corn flakes, you could lend your name to a granola. See what I?m sayin??
You could be the man, Michael, the truth-telling man. Our last three presidents admitted to smoking pot. Half the people on the planet smoke weed. They say it isn?t a performance-enhancing drug. But you know better. You and the dolphins.
No really! I've witnessed some really bad parenting in my life. Read my bottom signature line. And I know kids are smarter than many adults give them credit for.oh come on.we're talking common sense here. you can teach, or you can preach or you can put your head in the sand. or you can just open up a little honest dialogue, and let the discussion flow. let the kid answer his own questions. believe me, kids are smart. they already know the answers. If kids get to talk about Michael Phelps and pot, they get to learn a little more about people and the world, and they get to answer questions about themselves in the process.
I've found that generally, the best teachers (parents and/or classroom teachers) allow children to answer their own questions (especially older children). the parent/teacher can direct the conversation and set a constructive/postive tone, help provide some facts, but children feel awesome when they have reached their own conclusions (they may not always be the best conclusions, but typically they are pretty on target. and who is to say they are wrong?). Teach the child to think. and be kind to others in the process (ie., try not to judge). and they will learn to love discovering many things about their world and themselves. because they discovered it themselves. we didn't do it for them.
I wish I'd had more of a dialogue with my parents about many things when I was young. I was mostly talked "at" and "dealt with". I had to learn too many things in my life by myself, and I made a lot of mistakes that could have been prevented with a modicum of reasoning.
We all make mistakes when we're young, but good parenting like the things I've read in many of your posts are not all that common and can prevent much pain in a childs life.
Accept the complement and consider yourself one of the good ones. I do.
I can totally relate (limited dialogue with my parents), and I would guess most people can also relate to this statement. back in the day, parents just couldn't talk to their children. I do think this has changed quite a bit. for lots of reasons: we're older parents (wiser, experienced, educated), we aren't all repressed in religious or other ways, we have access to help or resources, we are more grounded and open minded and able to admit and accept that our children are just people who will make mistakes, we want a meaningful and lifelong relationship with our children, we are not willing to stick our heads in the sand and hope for the best, etc.
thanks for your kind words.
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Awesome. Lots of posts on a thread about a overpaid celebrity smoking pot. Sweet.
Oh. And apparently I heard that people actually need this stuff for....I don't know serious side effects of chemo, or severe eye issues, or ummmmm, many other medical issues.
Or that many people, including children die because of the drug trade. But let's talk about Phelps. Awesome.
Pat yourself on the back. Maybe just maybe if we talk about this enough it will open up the public's eye to understand that pot isn't so bad.................whatever. I hope there was some good dialogue, I didn't read all of the posts. It wasn't worth it, not if started by the Phelps story. Seriously. This is politics and current events, not gossip.
There are BIGGER FISH TO FRY. People rot in prison over this issue, people die because of this, but apparently when a swimmer gets busted, we talk about his sponsors.
We need real dialogue.
How about
Daily Kos: White House: DEA Raids in Medical Marijuana States Will Stop
There are a million more stories like this, millions.
Keep it real.
Oh. And apparently I heard that people actually need this stuff for....I don't know serious side effects of chemo, or severe eye issues, or ummmmm, many other medical issues.
Or that many people, including children die because of the drug trade. But let's talk about Phelps. Awesome.
Pat yourself on the back. Maybe just maybe if we talk about this enough it will open up the public's eye to understand that pot isn't so bad.................whatever. I hope there was some good dialogue, I didn't read all of the posts. It wasn't worth it, not if started by the Phelps story. Seriously. This is politics and current events, not gossip.
There are BIGGER FISH TO FRY. People rot in prison over this issue, people die because of this, but apparently when a swimmer gets busted, we talk about his sponsors.
We need real dialogue.
How about
Daily Kos: White House: DEA Raids in Medical Marijuana States Will Stop
There are a million more stories like this, millions.
Keep it real.
If you didn't read all of the posts, how do you know there was no serious dialogue about the subject in this thread?
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I don't know your story in your 20's but this guy has way less sense than the average bear. He took one class at Michigan and quit because it was too hard. Now he's hitting the bubbler with the USC swim team because he thinks he's a rock star and he has the intellect of a bag of rocks. Stop taking up for a guy who deserves every bit of scorn and ridicule coming his way. I know (more than you can possibly know) that a lot of people in the swim world think he's an idiot for his current predicament. Wake up and quit taking up for the guy like he's some kind of hero and future spokeman for the pot smokers of America. If anything, he's the poster boy for why they call it "dope".