All together now, Shut up, Billy Mays

OF COURSE, it's rude, but I'm ready to tell pitchman Billy Mays to shut up. The problem I can't get his high-pitched and annoying voice out of my head or off my TV.
And, another one, is that fast-talking Sham something "salesman" being rude by blathering, "Did you get that camera guy?" Hey, this slickster has been working with his camera person for 7, 286 commercials now, and he still doesn't know his name. Give me a break, Sham Wow guy.
So you get my drift. I know I have been watching far too much TV, particularly those ear-piercing commercials, in hi-def or hi-tech or whatever the latest technological discovery on this planet happens to be.
While writing this mid-week column, I kept repeating to myself there were more important subjects to ponder and I started to list them: 1. The aftermath of the quake in China.2. The Israel-Palestinian situation.3. Martha Stewart.4. Quakes, hurricanes, tornadoes.
And then that voice started in my head again: "Tell 'em Billy sent you" or was that the TV in the living room giving me a less-than-subtle message?
Just last month, I was belly-aching about cell-phone abusers, which seem to flood our highways and byways, and it brought up another lengthy list of other pet peeves, which has given me Exedrin Headache #854 (see, I told you, I have been watching too much TV).
However, I am not alone in this complaint department and so I decided to check other lists (most of them now on the Net):
Take for instance:
* Grocery carts with one bad wheel or any other non-working part. Of course, whether you live in this area or on the other side of the world, you've run into that problem. And the question which keeps scurrying through this feeble brain happens to be: Where is the Used Grocery Cart hospital? Someone must have an answer. Also how much can you get for a broken-down grocery cart? Particularly, the one that has at least one bad wheel.
* Here's something that's really annoying: Essays that begin in this way: "According to Webster ..." Enough said, but according to my Funk and Wagnall ...!
* And then there's this one, which I'm certain you've heard before, or you've shouted it: "Drop it" the moment a conversation veers into an unwanted direction.
* There are also some things which should be banned in this life and that's backpacks. I say that after being blindsided (at an airport once again) by someone not accounting for that item when turning sideways in such a confined area. "Hey, Buddy, watch out where you're swinging that thing. What's in there?" Of course, there's never a "sorry" as you try to wipe the blood away from your nose.
While continuing to search the Net, these common pet peeves came to the forefront:
* Installing a toilet paper roll so that the tissue unwraps from the under side of the roll. Alright, I'll admit it, The Missus has corrected me more than once on that tissue (oops, issue).
* Also I have pleaded guilty on numerous occasions of having a drawer stuffed with cords, adapters, and electrical plugs to unknown machinery. But, but, they could become useful, if I only could figure out what they plug into.
Then there are annoying things concerning the "beast" that you're driving:
* People who take almost an eternity to leave a parking space and watch you grow into old age as you're waiting for it.
* Speed bumps you didn't see, but hit at 120 mph. There goes the shock absorbers -- again.
And then there are telephone annoyances:
* Your phone call being put on the speaker, so everyone from your office can know what's new and embarrassing in your life. Arggghhhh!
* Someone who puts you on hold and then plays that XVGH&&%%& music for an hour in your ear. Of course, you could slam the phone receiver down, but no one would hear and when you pick up the phone again, that same XH&&&&%** music is still playing.
So those annoying things burn your bippy, too, but as I finished this column, I could still hear Billy Mays' annoying pitch in the background.
Now, where on earth is his OFF button?
Kaboom! There it is. Click

Human tragedy overshadows Detroit's quest

THERE ARE two photographs which have haunted me the last few days. And both show just how quickly a life can change.
The first one was of a gregarious Vladimir Konstantinov holding the Stanley Cup high over his head immediately after his Detroit Red Wings claimed hockey's holy grail in 1997. His mouth was obviously forming a whoop of exhilaration.
From that night of pure joy was another of a big man with a receding hairline, walking, well not exactly walking, but trudging up the handicap walkway to a federal building in Detroit, his hands gripping a walker.
It was still Konstantinov, however, more than a decade had passed from that night to his descent into pure hell; one filled with pain and confusion.
Of course, I had remembered Konstantinov as the Detroit rearguard, who seemed to be in control at all times while delivering out vicious hits. In fact, I've viewed his clean, but devastating hit on a pesky Claude Lemieux at least a half dozen times on the Net.
While his team, the Red Wings, have already sent the Pittsburgh Penguins reeling 4-0 in the first game of the Stanley Cup Saturday night, the image of Konstantinov painfully pushing a walker is something hard to erase from one's mind.
However, for Konstantinov and, actually, for the the entire Detroit origanization, their world as they had known it came crashing down on June 13, 1997.
It had only been six days since the Wings had claimed its first NHL championship since 1955 and some had gathered at the Orchards Golf Club in northern Macomb County before scattering to places all around the world.
Then fate drove a terrible blow into the heart of everything hockey.
In a white stretch limo were Konstantinov, Slava Fetisov and the Wings' massage therapist Sergei Mnatsakanov while Richard Gnida, who had less than a spotless driving record, was at the wheel.
On the return from the golf outing, Gnida apparently fell asleep and the limo crossed three lanes and eventually smashed into a tree. It was a crash heard around the hockey world for it nearly ended Konstantinov's life; put Mnatsakanov in a wheelchair while Fetisov had to spend time in hospital. Gnida had only minor injuries.
For a decade that crash has weighed on the NHL. It was one of those rare what-might-have-been moments.
After all, Konstantinov had been one of the brightest lights in the Detroit future, but then he was in a coma. The Detroit fans couldn't believe that their Vladinator was erased from their future.
There was a very long time when Konstantinov's life was at stake and the same applied to Mnatsakanov's as well for their head injuruies from the crash were extremely severe.
Then began the lengthy healing process, followed by a series of lawsuits against the car manufacturer and the limo services. On Friday, after nearly 11 years, they, seemingly, were about to end, one day before the start of the 2008 Stanley Cup quest for Vladdie's beloved Red Wings.
While he's attended some Detroit games and functions in the past few years, the past weeks has been bogged down in a lawsuit against the Ohio car dealership, which had supplied the limo that crashed in 1997.
It was an explosive 15 days, filled with dramatic testimony, particularly, from always feisty former Detroit star and Hockey Hall of Famer Ted Lindsay, who unleashed venom toward limo driver Gnida.
And during Lindsay's diatribe, he also lauded Konstantinov. "He was the greatest machine in the world ... Today, I see this vegetable and to me it just kind of makes me sick (compared) to what was the greatest hockey player in the world. It's a shame," he was quoted as saying in the Detroit News.
Although Lindsay, now 82, and 41-year-old Konstantinov played in different eras, they have become good friends, particularly, as both have worked out together at the Detroit training facility.
However, when the trial ended last Friday, the federal jury ruled 6-1 in favour of the car dealership and rejected a $290-million damages claim, according to wire reports.

Mental health problems come out of the shadows

Are you crazy? It's a question asked a thousand times a day in workplaces throughout the land after some individual does something out of the norm.
It's usually followed by, "Oh, it's just Crazy Bob, or Bill, or Nancy, trying to show off." However, it might be one of the signs of the onset of a major mental problem.
And it has come more and more to the forefront as I discovered after once again reading a 1992 hardcover book, A Brilliant Madness by Patty Duke with Gloria Hochman. It, of course, has a subtitle of Living With Manic Depressive Illness.
Before A Brilliant Madness, the outstanding actress had written the revealing Call Me Anna and in the followup with medical reporter Hochman she went further into the destructive illness.
Duke's symptoms started in her late teens and she was not correctly diagnosed until the age of 35 "before gaining a semblance of control of her life."
Also quoting from the inside book cover, Patty recounts with painful honesty her temper tantrums, crying jags, hospital stays, suicide attempts, panic attacks, spending sprees, crushing depressions, and plunges into near bankruptcy.
Duke, who had been sensational as Helen Keller in The Miracle Worker, also revealed how the disease helped to destroy two marriages and deeply hurt her children, according to the book jacket.
In Wednesday's column, I mentioned another who has suffered through such agonies and that happens to a former Toronto Sun colleague and friend, Sandy Naiman.
One of the most insightful articles on the problems surrounding mental illness are detailed in a Globe and Mail article she penned in February 2007.
After stating in no uncertain terms that American astronaut Lisa Nowak deserved better treatment after being thrown to the "wolves," so to speak, when she was placed in handcuffs for uncharacteristic behaviour, Naiman continued with her own personal tribulations.
When she was only 12 years old, a doctor diagnosed Naiman with schizophrenia. In the ensuing years she would have 20 hospitalizations and five different diagnoses.
In her Globe article, she also admitted, in detail, to "humiliating, demoralizing things, in public. Things, I wish I could undo. Or forget."
Later, in the article, Naiman said she'd never been arrested or handcuffed, "but I spent 24 hours shackled to a hospital bed, in wrist and ankle restraints, needing a bedpan instead of a diaper."
In going back to her profile it has to be noted that it took doctors a dozen years before they deemed she was a manic depressive (bipolar disorder) and not schizophrenic and Lithium Carbonate was ordered.
It didn't work as Naiman had to endure 11 serious manic episodes and hospitalizations in the ensuing years.
However, there was hope and at the age of 40, Naiman was prescribed another drug, an anticonvulant, Tegretol, which she started to take in 1988. Fortunately, she has not had another major manic episode since.
Today, this brilliant writer, speaker and mental health advocate is married to screenwriter Martin Lager and now offers advice to employers throughout Canada.
"Corporate courage to address mental illnesses is desperately needed, and in short supply," Naiman was quoted on the Mental Health Works website. "Corporations cannot afford to have sick employees and mental illnesses and addictions are the leading causes of absenteeism and lost productivity in today's workplaces. If companies can fix computers and machines, they must ensure that the minds of their employees running those computers and machines are also treated well and safeguarded ..."
Disability management consultant Dr. Garry A. Corbett of Winnipeg noted there has been a dramatic shift in costs between occupational injuries and non-occupational (including psychological) problems. "It used to be a 50-50 split 10 years ago, however, today for every $10. spent, $3 is spent on occupational injuries while $7 are needed for non-occupational problems, including psychological.
"The most common problem would appear to be depression in the workplace.
Meanwhile, Bill Wilkerson, co-founder/CEO, Global Business and Economic Roundtable on Addiction and Mental Health, has been quoted as saying, "Upwards of 56 million people in Canada and the U.S. -- and six million in Canada specifically -- suffer mental health problems at any hour on any clock in any time zone."
However, there is hope and understanding for a disease, which for much too long has wallowed in the shadows.

Of needles, green aliens and (mental) health

IT'S MIDNIGHT and I'm snoring and without warning The Missus poked me in the side and uttered these familiar words: "Wake up, it's time to take your needle."
Jabbing that "needle"filled with insulin into me has become a familiar routine. Yes, I am a full-fledged diabetic and this once mediocre athlete has turned into a 260-pound weakling and dependent on the "needle."
Of course, others have no means to vent their frustrations. I do with this column.
Before wallowing in the pit of self-pity, let me tell you I am not alone with this disease, which has sapped so many of their vitality and, in later stages of life, their memory and brought on unexpected temper tantrums (my diagnosis).
You know what I'm talking about if you are a diabetic or in the family of a diabetic. My late father also suffered through the miseries of the chronic disease
.And it's no respecter of persons. Both rich and poor can be victims of it.
The reason for writing about this disease was two fold: A list of famous persons with the disease has appeared on the Net and also an article by Michael Silver concerning Denver Broncos' quarterback Jay Cutler and his journey in the NFL.
In checking the list of athletes, who have or had diabetes, it includes hockey's Bobby Clark and the late Arthur Ashe from tennis.
Then there was the very angry Ty Cobb, the mild-mannered Joe Gibbs along with boxing's Sugar Ray Robinson, James (Buster) Douglas and Smokin' Joe Frazier. From baseball the names include Jackie Robinson, Ron Santo, Catfish Hunter and Boomer Wells.
Other diabetics, who certainly gained fame, included the likes of Thomas Edison, Jack Benny, James Cagney, Dick Clark, Larry King, Elizabeth Taylor and Mae West.
Then there was the Soul Man, James Brown, the Man In Black Johnny Cash, the great gospel singer Mahalia Jackson, Waylon Jennings, B.B. King, Neil Young and the king, himself, Elvis Presley.
In the writing trade was Ernest Hemingway and Anne Rice (Interview With a Vampire).
And the list goes on and on. So if you, too, have been prodded to take your needle, do not feel all alone.
In just the last few days I have started to re-read To Teach, To Learn, To Live by Diane O'Grady, whom I talked with at the Vernon Jubilee Hospital.
In it, one of the most striking statements was this one: "Diabetes is now a global epidemic."
Although it is called the Complete Diabetes Education Guide for Health Care Professionals, O'Grady certainly outlines the signs and symptoms in laymen's terms such as increased thirst and urination, excessive hunger, weight loss, fatigue and blurred vision.
Now excuse me while I draw some blood, take a reading, and then take another "needle."
***
Although I've written a number of columns concerning UFOs, the most striking report showed up the other day from over 'ome.The British Ministry of Defence (stiff upper lip types and all that) apparently have files on 11,000 sightings dating all the way back to the 1950s.Of course, like the U.S. Air Force the sightings have been scuttled as so many hot-air balloons, etc., etc., but it certainly makes one wonder
The archives (www.nationalarchives.gov.uk/ufos) are filled with stories and one which struck my fancy was about a 78-year-old out fishing at midnight and his account "of following aliens in green overalls onto a spaceship." According to the Reuters report, the ancient geezer was told to go away "because he was too old and decrepit for their purposes."
***
During my newspaper travels throughout the world, I have met numerous fascinating people, but Sandy Naiman rates at the top of any list. She was my friend and colleague at the Toronto Sun and an outstanding writer and speaker.
Just in the last few days I have read her autobiographical article, 'Coming Out Crazy,' which appeared in the October 1999 issue of Chatelaine.
However, Naiman has also been an inspiration to countless thousands throughout this country and the world, for my friend, Sandy, has lived with a serious mental illness since the age of 12.
Sandy Naiman has to rate as a true "overcomer."
***
Finally, speaking of an "overcomer," Boston Red Sox pitcher Jon Lester, who threw a no-hitter against the Kansas City Royals is definitely one.
Lester, a left-hander out of Tacoma's Bellarmine High School, was diagnosed with lymphoma and his chances to succeed were rated as slim and none.
However, such a fate wasn't in his future for he worked his way back and certainly has shown the meaning of "true grit."

Buried 'treasures' buried in an old desk drawer

ANCIENT ANDY ROONEY, who really is older than dirt, penned a column the other day about "junk" some of his readers had sent him. One suggested there should be a picture of him on the side of a Wheaties box. Another sent him a book called 'Twenty Things You Didn't Know About Everything.'
And so while waiting for the weekend horse pull at the Falkland Stampede I dug into an unopened desk drawer to see if I could find some hidden treasures.
In a large wicker basket, complete with cobwebs and assorted germs, were 68 small paper clips, a box of Staples standard staples, a packet of business cards, starting with one advertising a large real estate firm and finishing up with one telling the world I once was with the Toronto Sun. That had to be from the early 1970s.
And under all those "gems" was a Swan Harmonica, which I hadn't played in years, and five packets of Splenda for tea I never drank.
Then there was a faded column from the Edmonton Sun, from the early, early 1980s about Shiatsu. If you are wondering what that is, let me quote a few paragraphs from the wrinkled copy. It included a large picture of yours truly before my beard and hair had barely started to turn grey.
"Quick, Nurse Goody-Goody, get Ben Casey on the phone. Page Doctor Kildare at General Hospital. I want a third opinion. Medical opinion, that is." (Ed. Note: Ben Casey, Doc Kildare? Now Corbett was really dating himself.)
"And how did all this concern about my health begin? It started the other day when Publisher Agawatchie ordered me to take something called an "executive medical." It was thorough, from blood to heart tests and Doc Mendes even made me cough although I don't have a cold. After the hour-long examination, Doc Mendes pronounced me in reasonable condition, except that I was overweight.
"Overweight? I already knew that, since earlier in the day someone tried to slap a Goodyear sticker on me so I could fill in as the Blimp when NBC televises the Rose Bowl on New Year's Day."
Then I proceeded to consult with David Yawrenko, who specialized in Shiatsu, which is Japanese acupressure.
Doc Y. then told me that acupressure is the simple pressing and rubbing of painful spots on the body by the fingers and palms of the hands. It was determined that instead of needles, direct thumb and finger pressure on the acupuncture merdian points would gain similiar results.
Continuing, the points are, in effect, the floodgates which, when stimulated with steady, direct pressure, keep the energy systems in motion.
Then that column added these words: "While Doc Y. doesn't claim that Shiatsu can cure everything, he said that acupressure's main function is to maintain health and well being. It can help overcome such ailments as fatigue, migraine, tension, eye problems, blood pressure problems, asthma, arthritis, muscle strains and sprains, neck and spinal problems, indigestion, coughing, laryngitis and shoulder and elbow problems." That list certainly covered most of my physical woes.
When Doc Y. gently touched me on the jaw, it almost brought tears to my eyes. "There's a terrible buildup in there. Your diet is a mess."
Now it's years and years later and I had almost forgotten about Shiatsu and about taking raw halibut oil three times a day.
That's when I closed that old desk drawer and promised myself not to re-read that "healthy" column again.
At least, not until after the Falkland Stampede where I'll put on the feed bag with a double order of French fries and ketchup.
***
ANSWER TO THIS TOUGHIE (From The Straight Dope): Q. Where does belly button lint come from? A: "Your navel is one of the few places on your body where perspiration has a chance to accumulate before evaporating. Lint from your clothing, cottons especially, adheres to the wet area and remains after the moisture departs."
ANSWERS FROM A FEW GOOD MEN (1992): Jack Nicholson (as Col. Nathan R. Jessup): You wants answers? ... Tom Cruise (Kaffee): I think I'm entitled ... Nicholson: You want answers? ... Cruise: I want the truth!... Nicholson: You can't handle the truth!

Deadly reasons for not watching Indy 500

WHEN POLE-SITTER Scott Dixon leads the field around the Great American Cow Pasture on Sunday, May 25th, I won't be one of 200,000 to 300,000 watching the 92nd running of the Indianapolis 500 in person or one of the countless millions viewing it on TV.
This isn't a recent promise, but one that I made to myself some 35 years ago in May 1973.
And there's a definite reason for passing up the touted auto-racing extravaganza, which I've written about a number of times in the past.
***
Gordon Johncock won the 57th running of the 500 that mid-week afternoon, however, when his brilliant red STP Eagle crossed the finish line in front of 100,000 fans after only 133 laps or 332.5 miles, it was anti-climatic to the incredible events which preceded it.
It was difficult to believe that two deaths and, more than 15 injuries, added up to any kind of a victory celebration.
Rain had prevented its start on Sunday, and then it was postponed to Monday and as rain spitted all over the huge playpen the flag finally was dropped by Pat Vidan
Then young Salt Walther tried to make a hasty exit through a wire fence along the front straightaway. He missed and as a result, the modish bachelor wound up in the Downtown Methodist Hospital covered in burns to most of his body.
In the aftermath of the devastation, 13 or more spectators were burned, two teen-age girls seriously, along with minor injuries to two drivers -- Mike Hiss and John Martin. The race was then halted.
Rains again wiped out Tuesday's plans. So it wasn't until Wednesday at 2:07 before the track was dry enough to start.
The 32-car field roared off with the gleaming white Eagle of Bobby Unser charging around the first turn, and it appeared as if the difficulties of the previous few days would be forgotten by some brilliant driving.
The pattern appeared familiar as Bobby U. spread his wings in front of such dominant personalities as Mark Donohue, Swede Savage, pole-sitter Johnny Rutherford and Gary Bettenhausen.
But then the speeds, which had reached a tick of the clock away from 200 during qualifications, started to take their expected toll. First Mario Andretti, wheeling a Parnelli Turbo-Offy, went for lunch on the third lap.
Machines and drivers wheeled in and out of pit lane for the first 30 laps as Bobby Unser doggedly held onto the lead for the first 75 miles.
But, then during a pit stop, Johncock took the lead and by the 40th lap, or 100 miles, he had a safe margin over young Billy Vukovich and Savage with brothers Al and Boby Unser moving up steadily.
But any belief that this race was going to be accident-free were quickly dashed when Savage, only 26, and driving another STP machine for owner Andy Granatelli, spun on some oil on the 58th lap as he headed down the north end of the straightaway, turned sideways and slammed into the wall front first.
Alternate driver John Mahler, who was standing near the pit entrance, rushed towards the scene along with six firemen carrying extinguishers and managed to tear the aluminum away from Savage's frame and carried him to a waiting ambulance.
Swede, who had survived a near fatal crash at Ontario, Calif., in 1971 and had a memory lapse for almost six months, was taken to hospital with compound fractures to both his legs, internal injuries and burns. He would die later.
In the ensuing confusion surrounding the accident, a pit crew member for another STP team driver, Graham McRae, was fatally injured.
As I wrote on that fateful day, Armando Teran never saw death coming towards him, but thousands in the stands did.
Did you ever see a man die a violent death? I wanted to walk out of the Speedway and never return.
Armando came to Indianapolis to work on one of the STP pit crews, a chance to get away from his job as a truck driver in Culver City, Cali. He was 23, a bachelor, who didn't expect to die in the 500. He wasn't a race driver.
It was 3:10 p.m. when No. 40 -- Swede Savage -- hit an oil slick and slammed into the wall, exploding immediately and spewing fire across the track, just at the entrance of pit lane.
Armando was standing behind the wall near the starter's podium, talking with other members of McRae's pit crew.
As ambulances and fire trucks started roaring towards the accident scene, Armando leaped over the wall, started to cross the paved pit lane towards the narrow median of grass and race along with dozens of others.
Just then a fire truck, speeding at more than 60 mph, and also going in the wrong direction, blasted through the pit area and Armando was a pedestrian who wasn't looking/
.The truck struck Armando with a tremendous thud, sending the young mechanic flying through the air some 50 feet. He rolled over and over again -- like a child rolling through snow.
The crowd screamed as they lifted his body into an ambulance. The fire truck's radiator was spewing steam and a huge dent was showing on its passenger side.
It was more than an hour later the press learned of Armando's death. The crowd was never told.
When Johncock finally crossed the finish line that fateful afternoon, there was no joy in the STP camp.
For Granatelli, the usually life-of-the-party owner, it was a very bitter-sweet victory. "It's not a great day for me because Swede's in the hospital and a crew member of ours has been lost." He wiped a tear away.
Later, on the victory podium, the announcer for the festival of beer and dirt tried to engender some enthusiasm from Andy, but he turned his head toward the rain-pregnant skies and it appeared he might be thinking, "Why me, God, why did something like this happen to me?"
As for this rain-drenched road warrior, I vowed never to return to the Indianapolis 500.
I have kept that promise.

Obsessed in searching for Lost Ark of the Covenant

ALTHOUGH I don't own a bullwhip and have never worn a battered fedora like Indiana Jones, I'm still obsessed with searching for the Ark of the Covenant.
In fact, as I flipped through the TV channels the other day, Harrison Ford was fighting off the Nazis once again for possession of the most important archaelogical, historical and religious object in man's history.
But that was pure fiction and well told in the hands of Steven Spielberg in the classic 1981 movie.
And just when I thought that was sufficient and this obsession would become dormant, a Sunday news story, however, jarred my interest once again.
The headline in WorldNetDaily read: Ark of the Covenant altar found in Sheba's palace, and then added: Remains of animal sacrifices discovered at home of Ethiopian queen.
Incidentally, I was once the Middle East Bureau Chief for WND, based in Jerusalem.
What was so startling was that archaelogists from the University of Hamburg were now verifying the findings that I, along with other "searchers," had made nearly 20 years ago.
In fact, after travelling to Ethiopia on the advice of Prince Stephanos (Stephen Mengesha), a great-great grandson of Haile Selassie, in 1990, I had written a five-part newspaper series along with three unpublished volumes , entitled The Glory of the King. It traced the Ark and its Ethiopian history; its sighting in Ethiopia during the 1896 Battle of Adowa and The Last Emperor of the Ark concerning Haile Selassie and his long reign, which ended with his murder in the 1970s.
Of course, another "searcher" Graham Hancock also put out a best-selling book entitled, The Sign and The Seal, published by Doubleday in 1992.
In the latest so-called "revelations," scientist Helmut Ziegert and his university team reportedly found "the queen of Sheba's palace at Aksum in Ethiopia, purported to once have been the home of the Ark of the Covenant," according to the WND report. It also claimed Ziegert's research began in 1999 with the palace only discovered three months ago.
In a full-page Ottawa Sunday Sun article in March 1992, I penned these words:
"Shrouded in mystery and intrigue and cloaked with a legacy of divine wrath for more than 3,000 years, the Ark of the Covenant is believed to be in northern Ethiopia.
After a three-year investigation, The Sun has learned that the Ark is likely buried beneath an Ethiopian Orthodox church, St. Mary of Zion, in Aksum, a "holy city" in Tigre province, 623 km north of Addis Ababa.
Its location within the archaic religious compound hasn't been divulged by either Ethiopian Orthodox officials or the secretive cadre of priests, who still guard a sacred chest, which supposedly housed the Ten Commandments.
Efforts to locate the Ark aren't new because throughout history, various individuals and even countries have tried to track it down.
It's believed with some validity that Fascist dictator Benito Mussolini hunted for it in the 1930s when the Italians occupied Ethiopia and the separatist province of Eritrea.
Through the centuries, the Ark has taken a life of its own, overshadowed by mysticism and wild claims that it houses a nuclear reactor or that it's still being used as a transmitter for aliens from outer space.
If it is such a lethal weapon, why are there adventurers combing Aksum's ancient ruins in search of the invaluable relic?
It's certain Israel has a great interest in it because it's the lynchpin of rebuilding a Jewish temple on the Temple Mount in Jerusalem, which would herald their messiah."
Besides Ziegert and his Hamburg group, there will be others launching a frantic search -- and soon.
Now where can I get a bullwhip and a battered fedora?
SOME 'ARK' FACTS: Its construction by the Hebrew patriarch Moses' chief carpenter, Bezalel, in about 1250 BC. This occurred after Moses came down Mount Sinai with the Ten Commandments ... The stone tablets were placed in a chest about four feet in length and about 2 1/2 feet high and the same 2 1/2 feet made of acacia wood and covered inside and out with gold. There were two carrying poles also covered with gold ... Inside were the two tablets, the rod of Moses' brother, Aaron, and a pot of manna (the miracle food).
ETHIOPIAN CLAIM: The fabled Ark "disappeared" from Jerusalem between the reign of King Solomon (970-931 BC) and the Babylonian destruction of the Great Temple in 586 BC. This "disappearance" sets into motion the Ethiopian claim that Menelik, a son of King Solomon and Makeda, also known as the the Queen of Sheba, took the Ark and replaced it with a replica in the Jerusalem Temple. The legend also claims it's now housed in Aksum in northern Ethiopia.

Heroes Include Wolfgang and My Brother

WILLIE NELSON once warbled that his heroes have always been cowboys. However, mine include a man who uses two canes and the other happens to be my kid brother.
Both Wolfgang Zimmermann and Dr. Garry Corbett are dedicated to improving the plight of disabled workers throughout Canada and around the globe and both log countless thousands of air miles in their quest.
Take, for instance, when I contacted Zimmermann, the executive director of the National Institute of Disability Management and Research (NIDMAR) in Victoria, he was about to board a plane to once again promote "the values of disability management."
Meanwhile, my kid brother, if you can call someone in his mid-50s a kid, had just returned from a number of trips to New Zealand and Australia, giving lectures concerning the disabled and their return to the workforce.
When I tracked down Zimmermann's background, it was one worthy of a documentary or two. In fact, there have been a couple including 'Every Twelve Seconds' (which dealt with the personal and financial costs of industrial injuries) and a CBC Journal/National news documentary called 'Insult to Injury.'
Zimmermann knows about disability first hand.
Born in Dortmund, Germany and trained as a landscape gardening engineer, he arrived in Canada at age 19 in the mid-1970s and began working for MacMillan Bloedel's Sproat Lake division as a member of the brushing crew. However, after only five days into the job, tragedy struck and it changed his life, forever.
In brief a tree fell on him, breaking his back severely and with his spinal cord damaged he spent years in a wheelchair and on crutches. He now uses those canes.
Zimmermann proved to be no quitter and some 30 years later has become "the spiritual father and driving force behind provisions for the international "disability management" initiative in countries throughout the world," according to a news blurb.
The energetic Zimmermann has certainly impressed his colleagues, including my brother, the one-time president of CARP (Canadian Association of Rehabiliation Professionals), which has changed its name to VRAC (Vocational Rehabiliation Association of Canada).
"I have had the privilege of knowing Wolfgang for approximately 10 years in a variety of capacities, and am constantly impressed with his strength of conviction, tenacity and compassion for workers, who have experienced a disability," said Dr. Corbett.
"Over the years I have watched as he has tirelessly crisscrossed Canada and traveled countless miles throughout the world promoting the values of disability management. During that time he has been able to bring together business, union and government leadership from a multitude of countries into a coalition of individuals that work for the betterment of not only injured/ill workers but society as a whole."
Dr. Corbett also pointed out "the costs related to disabilities in the workplace can be staggering," and then he listed them:
* Lost wages, concurrent and future, not replaced through benefits;
* Medical expenses not compensated through compensation systems or other insurance;
* Time and resources expended by disabled worker's household in nursing and recuperation;
* Lost household production;
* Productivity of disabled worker no longer available to society;
* Increase in mental health problems;
* Earlier death rate; and spouses of unemployed workers experience increased emotional problems.
"One of the keys to Wolfgang's success is that by using an effective disability management model everyone wins," Dr. Corbett emphasized, adding, "For the employee there is a significant cost savings, they are able to keep the experience and expertise of skilled workers and increase their competitive standing within the world market.
"For unions they are able to provided needed services to their members and maintain them in a productive environment. And for society, we not only retain a productive (and tax paying) citizen, but there is a significant reduction in the use of the health care and medical systems."
In conclusion, Dr. Corbett stated, "British Columbia and Canada can be proud of being one of the major driving forces of Disability Management movement throughout the world. What started as a dream for Wolfgang and NIDMAR only a few short years ago is now a model that is used throughout the world. He has been able to clearly demonstrate that "doing the right thing" is not only ethical but financially sound for all involved."
For their work in the disability management field, both Wolfgang Zimmermann and my brother deserve to be called heroes.

PERHAPS, it won't be up for a Stupid Sports Quotes Award, but Pittsburgh's Russian-born superstar Evgeni Malkin should have known better.
"That's one of the teams that it's really not a pleasure to play against. I really don't like playing against them. I don't like that team," Malkin was quoted as saying. It was long-winded for a guy with a minimal English vocabulary, but you can bet it's been written on the Philadelphia dressing-room wall.
On Friday night, the Flyers will be head-hunting against the Penguins and Malkin along with Sid Crosby when the NHL conference finals open. In the other set, Detroit Red Wings square off against the Dallas Stars. The conference champs play for the right to hold Lord Stanley's mug high in the air.
But back to Malkin's long-winded opinion piece concerning the cross-Pennsylvania foes. He probably would have been wise to shut his yap.
After all, it would appear that these 2007-08 version are a remake of the Broad Street Bullies from the 1970s.
Remember those villains, who claimed a couple of Stanley Cups and were feared for their ferocity?
Philly captain Bobby Clarke was the team leader, but Dave Schultz (aka Zeus and The Hammer) intimidated the opponents with his fists.
Take for instance when Philly upended the Boston Bruins four games to two for the Stanley Cup in the 1974 final. Schultz spent 38 minues in the "sin bin" while teammates Andre Dupont had 33 penalty minutes (PIM) and Jimmy Watson had 30.
Besides bashing the opposition, Schultz went on to co-author a book (with Stan Fischler) called The Hammer and even had a recording called Penalty Box.
Schultz also holds an NHL record for the most penalty minutes in a season (1974-75) with an astounding 472 PIM.
And the Flyers had another advantage for that era because the great Kate Smith would inspire them with her rendition of 'God Bless America.'
The Broad Street Bullies also had Fred Shero behind the bench and he once was quoted as saying: "I swear I have never told a player to attack another player. In fact, I have told my players if they ever hear me saying something like this, they can break a stick over my skull. I ask only that they play aggressively."
Malkin, meanwhile, recalls his dislike for the Flyers was intensified in March when Flyers' Mike Richards' skate ran over his cheek and left him with a nasty cut. Then on April 2, the Flyers and the Pens waged a mini-war less than a minute into the game.
So while the names may have changed from the 1970s the Philadelphia attitude hasn't in 2008 for they don't believe in turning the other cheek.
And one final note about the Broad Street Bullies of Bernie Parent, Bill Barber, Bill Clement, and, of course, The Enforcer, Schultz, Fred Shero's kid, Ray, was once a Philadelphia rink rat and followed their every move.
Today, Ray Shero has switched his loyalty from the Flyers. After all he's now the Pittsburgh general manager so he better be cheering for the Penguins.
***
SPEAKING OF STUPID SPORTS QUOTES: Former Toronto quarterback Joe Theismann apparently once said: "Nobody in football should be called a genius. A genius is a guy like Norman Einstein." ... Shaq O'Neal on whether he had visited the Parthenon during his visit to Greece: "I can't really remember the names of the clubs that we went to." ... And there's the one attributed to the late CFL and NFL GM Jim Finks, when asked after a loss what he thought of the refs: "I'm not allowed to comment on lousy officiating."
***
STUPID SPORTS INCIDENTS (From The Corbett Files): Jan. 6, 1972 -- After St. Louis Blues coach Al Arbour was showered with debris at Philly's Spectrum, Arbour and a couple of his players went after the garbage throwers; then on Dec. 29 of the same year, an idiot in Vancouver's Pacific Coliseum reached over the glass and pulled Don Saleski's hair. What happened? Six players were docked $500 when assault charges were laid ... Dec. 23, 1979 -- The infamous Mike Milbury Incident when the Boston Bruins standout grabbed a fan's shoe and beat him with it. It was all part of fight night at the Garden as the Beantowners went into the stands to take on the hostile New York fans.

The Courage of Ravensbruck Prisoner #2675

CECELIA REXIN was a 19-year-old student living the "good life" in Koenigsberg, Germany in 1937 when she noticed some of her Jewish friends had disappeared. She soon discovered the awful truth that Jews from all over Germany were vanishing into the Nazi-created oblivion.
Angered by such injustice, she joined an underground movement which hid Jews and provided passports for them to flee the country. However, Rexin was arrested as a political dissident the same year.
Her life became a hell, as she was shuttled off to a number of German concentration camps, including Ravensbruck, located north of Berlin.
At Ravensbruck, where more than 90,000 perished, Rexin's barracks was next to one which housed Jews.
"I was glad to be near them and soon I had many friends there," Rexin once recalled.
Assigned to dispensary duty, she paid dearly for befriending a young Jewish girl whose family had been killed in the war.
The German authorities intended to ship the girl to Auschwitz, so Rexin hid her in the crawl space beneath the barracks. "I stole food and blankets for her. The girl became very attached to me. She called me 'Mama.'"
When the girl was discovered, Rexin was ordered flogged by her fellow inmates. However, the girl survived and they met after the war.
In December, 1944, Rexin was caught trying to smuggle bread and medicine to her Jewish friends in the adjacent barracks. She was punished by being put in a pitch-black, unheated 3 by 5-foot concrete box for eight weeks, barely surviving on water and food scraps.
Wearing only a thin dress and a pair of wooden shoes, Rexin developed pneumonia after being deprived of food for five days.
That when she prayed: "It's OK, God, if You want me to die and be with You. But I've been here more than seven years and I don't want to die now. Please let me live."
Her prayers were answered.
An hour later, a Swedish Red Cross worker unlocked her cell door.
"It was a miracle," Rexin said. "In my darkness, my Heavenly Father heard my prayer and reached down to me."
She had emerged as an 80-pound physical wreck.
Rexin -- Ravensbruck prisoner #2675 -- had witnessed unbelievable atrocities, including seeing hundreds being dragged off to the gas chambers and ovens.
One incident was forever locked in her memory. A German guard picked up two children and bashed their heads together, killing them. He dropped the lifeless pair and started laughing while walking away.
After the war, while working for an agency which identified former Nazis, Rexin settled in Bavaria, married and had a child. Her testimony helped convict several concentration camp officials.
In 1974, she joined her daughter, Nancy Evans, in the U.S. and began speaking to schools in Indiana about the Holocaust.
In 1988, both Rexin and Evans received Yeshua (Jesus) as their Messiah.
Then in 1994, she was able to realize her life-long dream of praying the Mourner's Kaddish at Jerusalem's Wailing Wall for Jewish women she had met in a Nazi concentration camp.
Two years later, she was diagnosed with cencer and was given a short time to live. However, her dying request was that she become a U.S. citizen, which she did.
In May 1997 she died of cancer at the age of 79 a true heroine during one of the most dark periods in human history and as I wrote shortly after her death, her efforts certainly rank with other heroines such as Corrie Ten Boom, whom she met at Auschwitz. Also at that time, I learned a tree would be planted on the avenue of "Righteous Gentiles" in Jerusalem's Yad Vashem.
While this writer as well as others have attempted to detail her life story, it was Cecelia Rexin's own words which have had the greatest impact.
In June 1998, her autobiography, 'Testament To Courage: The Concentration Camp Diary (1940-1945) of a Courageous German Woman Who Risked Her Life To Save Others, was published.
On Thursday as a siren wailed in Israel and the world paused in memory of six million Jews, who perished in the Holocaust, I also remembered Cecelia Rexin and her unbelievable courage.