What about Bob?

I've been doing a fair amount of whining about the cost of higher education in this country, but perspective is the order of the day after reading Greg Mortenson's fascinating book, "Three Cups of Tea."

Again, Mortenson has no connection whatsoever to the NFL (no relation to ESPN's Chris Mortensen). But his story is one of the most remarkable I've come across in years. I hope you get time to read it. It will explain a lot about the crushing problems now confronting the world, no less the education system we have come to take for granted in America.

Mortenson's best-selling book is his riveting personal story of what happened after he nearly died after scaling the famous K2 mountain in Pakistan in 1993. During his recovery in a remote village called Korphe, Mortenson was so moved after meeting a group of children writing in the dirt with sticks that he made a promise to return and help them build a school.

After going back to California and finding someone willing to underwrite his daunting goal, Mortenson returned and began a gripping adventure in which he survived harrowing times, yet still managed to achieve his mission. And then some.

As of 2007, Mortenson had established over 61 schools in rural and often volatile regions of
Pakistan and Afghanistan, which provide education to over 25,000 children, including 14,000
girls, where few education opportunities existed before.

He was kidnapped in 1996 for eight days in the tribal areas of Pakistan, escaped a 2003 firefight with Afghan warlords by hiding for eight hours beneath bloody animal hides in a truck and overcame two "fatwehs" from enraged Islamic mullahs who demanded his work case. He was a witness to the rise of the Taliban in Pakistan and Afghanistan, and was in Pakistan when the 9/11 terror attacks took place.

But he never lost sight of his goal of educating impoverished children, especially young girls. It was his way of winning the war on terror, one young mind at a time.

Fascinating stuff. If you get time, read it.

On a far less important note, we'll bring you our quarterback rankings for this year's draft in a bit.

Yes, blogging is a strange business.

Anyone who can read a newspaper or read the Internet - or, better yet, both - knows that it costs a lot of money to send your child/children to college. But I do have an idea to make it more affordable.

And there are all sorts of ways to pay for this. Directly out of pocket (something few of us can do). Student loans. Home equity loans/lines, 529 plans, etc. As you may know from previous posts, we're freaking out a little at the prospect of our older daughter, who is now a high school junior, getting ready for college.

(Then again, it could be worse. Andrea has friends - twins - who are getting ready for college, too. Needless to say, the girls' parents are staring down the barrel of spending potentially $400,000 if their girls choose a private institution. Ouch!)

Anyway, I would like to suggest at least a partial solution, something that seems to make complete sense and would be an instant fix for a system that is broken. With April 15 rapidly approaching, how about making college tuition tax deductible?

Real estate taxes are deductible. Home mortgage interest is deductible. Medical expenses are deductible after a certain minimum.

So why not tuition?

I wanted to ask this question at a recent gathering of parents at Boston University, where a perky admissions executive was telling us how wonderful her school was, never once mentioning the cost. And with close to 2,000 parents and students in the audience, I figured I could at least get some people thinking.

Alas, there was only time for five questions before the tour, and the woman didn't call on me. I did find out, however, that BU has been extremely successful in the Beanpot Hockey Tournament.

Ok, I'll get back to the real purpose of this blog now: football and look-a-likes.

... but before I do, I just want to say this college thing really ticks me off.

I would suggest to one or all of the three remaining Presidential candidates that bringing up the idea that tuition should be tax deductible would potentially result in more votes

Ok, I'll get back to the real purpose of this blog now: football and look-a-likes.

It happens at some point nearly every single day:

You're minding your own business when someone invades your space as if you weren't there.

You could be driving down the highway in the right lane and someone is tailgating you.

Or standing at the supermarket checkout stand and the person behind you bumps you with his or her carriage. Again and again and again.

Or walking through a crowded airport when the person behind you is so close you can smell his or her breath.

It is impossible to avoid these times, especially when you live in a place like the New York metropolitan area.

But I've come across a saying given to me by a friend a couple years ago that comes in handy at times like these. And the words can apply to just about any and all situations that arise. I must have been complaining about one of these scenarios to my buddy, who I met a few years ago playing soccer.

Warren said simply, "Bob, it's their world. You're just living in it."

I think of that phrase often, and it helps take the edge off the annoyance that invariably flares when a fellow human is not as considerate as I'd like him or her to be.

So when the tailgater appears as if he's about to hit my rear bumper, I simply say, "It's his world, Bob. You're just living in it." (Then, of course, I tap on my brakes to get him the hell away from me. Just a tap makes them back off every time.)

Or as the woman with the baby carriage ran up the back of my leg a few months back at 34th and 7th, and simply walked off as if nothing had happened - even after I'd said "Owww!" - "It's her world, Bob. You're just living in it."

Or as the guy behind me at the airport security location huffs and puffs as I take out my laptop for inspection - as if moving ahead of me will be the difference between making his flight or spending the rest of his life in the airport: "It's his world, Bob. You're just living in it."

Or the middle aged guy on my train a couple months back who was talking on his cell phone telling his wife to pick up the prescription for Viagra because he liked it so much the other night.

Or, of course, the guy at the health club who doesn't find the need to wear any clothing while standing at the urinal.

Repeat after me, Glauber Nation: "It's their world, we're just living in it."

(I know, this is goofy stuff. But it's either that or giving you the heights, weights and 40 times of draft-eligible players you have never heard of. I figured I'd offer something a bit more useful in every-day life.)

We began this new segment in relatively benign fashion with a shot at the cell phone yakkers who don't know when to pipe down while in a public space. For my next "Pet Peeve," I'm going to dabble in more treacherous territory.

(Seeing as I've already logged a few posts today, perhaps it will get lost in the shuffle, just in case anyone is grossed out.) So without further ado, a warning to those who might get a little squeamish on this one:

2. Health club eqiquette: I cannot speak for what goes on in the ladies locker room, but there have been a few unfortunate moments in the men's locker area over the last couple of weeks. Thus, if you are reading this and you are a member of the same health club, I beg your indulgence:

When going "number one" before a shower, please be polite and at least bring a towel with you so as not to allow your fellow patrons to see more of you than we would prefer.

I think that's about as delicately as I'm able to put it.

(Memo to Newsday blog guru Mark La Monica: If this is in poor taste, please remove this post. If you think Tribune chairman Sam Zell likes the fact that I'm doing as he suggested and pushing the envelope trying to draw readers, then please forward this to him ASAP.)

Oh, and please don't ask me about the urinal story at Newark Penn Station.

It is the NFL off-season (although free agency begins in 48 hours or so), and we are always thinking of ways to keep people interested in a football blog. So we'll expand our horizons to include real life.

And what better way to start it off than to bitch and moan about things we don't like.

Allow me to begin, and feel free to chime in with your own pet peeve. (I have a feeling we're in "Hookslide's" wheelhouse again.)

1. Cell phone etiquette: If you are in a public space, such as a train, bus or restaurant, please do not speak loudly. I know we hear these requests repeatedly, but it seems not everyone has gotten the memo. I find it particularly amusing when seemingly well-educated, well-groomed men and women carry on a cell phone conversation as if they're the only ones in the room.

I was on a train once when a balding, middle-aged man was talking to his wife. He asked her to pick up a prescription at the pharmacy. As the conversation continued, he was rather open about the fact that the prescription was for a product that ... um ... improves one's potency.

The gentleman sitting next to me picked up on the conversation as well - heck, the entire train car probably heard the guy - and told me he's seriously thought about purchasing equipment to jam cell phone calls. (Craig informs us such equipment is illegal, so proceed at your own peril. We are not endorsing anything connected with this, merely passing on information from a stranger on a train.)