Departure: Michael Wieser

I have spent most of this evening deciding whether or not I could write this entry in a way that would not come across as seeming in some way disingenuous or coming across as trying to insert myself into the life of an acquaintance who had surely not had a thought about me in years. I guess all I can say is that I will try my best to honor the memory of one who has just passed.

First, I probably need to give a little biographical information as background for what is to follow for you readers who may not know me well. For the sake of brevity, I grew up in a small town in the southeast corner of Minnesota called La Crescent. Every town has its faults, but for the most part La Crescent was a pretty good place to grow up. Being a small town, you knew just about everybody in school, including in the grades above and below you. While I wasn't necessarily an outcast, it probably could not be said that I was popular. I also should admit that the title of this blog would be a fairly apt description of myself if I'm being totally honest. While I can get along with people all right, I wouldn't say I like that many.

I liked Mike Wieser.

Everyone liked Mike Wieser.

Mike was the best athlete in La Crescent. Of the few locally legendary athletes that donned the uniform of the Lancer, I think most people would agree that Mike Wieser was the most gifted, certainly of the male athletes. As a junior, he was awarded Coulee Region Player of the Year in basketball by the La Crosse Tribune. Within the conference, there was a 6'11" fellow junior who was given a scholarship to play ball at the University of Kentucky. Southall was six inches taller, both were post players, but Mike Wieser was the better player. He was the star tight end on the football field. He was so good that he went on to be Div. II All-American at North Dakota State and was invited to the NFL Draft Combine.

Since his success as a college athlete, Mike moved out to Las Vegas where last I heard he was working as an entertainer. He was extremely fit. Like professional athlete fit.

Now, what I left out while briefly talking about his college football career was that in 2001 he had to briefly leave football to deal with an illness he had been diagnosed with--Wilson's Disease. This accomplished athlete fit enough to not need CGI or PEDs to look like a cast member of 300 was suddenly afflicted with a genetic disorder.

He was uninsured because the astronomical costs of health insurance were unaffordable and the Wilson's Disease he had was a pre-existing condition. To make matters worse, Nevada lost its donor program last year, leaving him in a state that was unable to treat his condition if it were to worsen.

His Wilson's Disease flared up again this year. He was eventually stabilized enough to be flown to the Mayo Clinic where a liver for transplant had finally been procured, but his condition could not be stabilized enough for the surgery to take place.

He died yesterday, Wednesday, February 25th at 7:33 pm.

Obviously, the senselessness of the entire situation is beyond rationalization. I could focus on the beyond-fucked nature of the health care system, but that would be a politicization of someone's life that I do not really want to do here. A piece taking that angle is available here, by another La Crescent alum.

Mike was a great guy.

He was one of eleven children, all adopted by the eternally generous and caring Dick and Sheila Wieser. He was a three-sport star athlete in high school, was arguably the most popular guy in high school, yet he was one of the most humble, down-to-earth guys you would ever meet. I don't think I ever saw him say anything mean to anyone. With the degree of success he had, he could have gotten away with murder, but he was beyond reproach. He was certainly a much better person than I could ever have been.

So despite the fact that I could count the times I hung out with him on a remotely personal level on my hands, I have been oddly affected by his death. I say 'oddly' because other acquaintances have died young. I think I began to rationalize my affection by attributing my abnormal reaction to the ironically-wrought tragic nature of a man in such great shape having his body give out on him with the politically-tinged insurance issue adding complexity to the issue. Most of the other people I knew who died perished in vehicular accidents, which is certainly tragic, but young people die in traffic accidents all the time. Initially, I thought my remorse and sorrow over the death of someone I knew in the past was simply because of the unique circumstances of his death, with those circumstances setting him apart from those others.

But then I realized that was not the case. The tragedy is that Mike was such an exceptional person. He was such a nice guy. That is not to say these other people were not nice or decent or good or had other redeeming qualities. They were and did. Mike was different, though. I don't want to feel like I am valuing his life in death more than others', but in the end I think he did live his life in a genuinely better way than most with his kindness exceeding that of most others.

He was a great guy. Mike Wieser will be missed, even by people like me, whose lives he only touched in fleeting moments.

Comments and Answers

Since there are so few comments on this little-read blog, I'll take this time to answer/respond to some of them.

"Weibel" just posed the question as to whether reading The Old Ball Game will make him better at fantasy baseball. Well, "Weibel"--if that is your real name--no, it won't. But it will help you appreciate the game more through exploring its origins, if that's any consolation.

"Weibel" also in the midst of his quest to become this blog's most prized reader--yes, I rate you all on scales of importance and frequency of visits like an internet Santa--heaped praises upon Rachel Weisz. I generally like her, but her character was so mean to the Greatest Chiefs' Fan, Paul Rudd, in The Shape of Things that I have a hard time looking at her now. As for Jessica Biel, the writers of this blog are very fond of her. Very fond indeed.

"Ryan" said that he knew that I wanted to head to the House on the Rock. I have actually been there before, although I'd not object to going again. The distance between here and there is insurmountable for the time being. I am working on building a pair of wings. That should solve that. Or I'll die.

Yes, "Little Brother", "The IT Crowd" is awesome. Thanks for the head's up.

There were three comments on the Role Models portion of the two-reviews-in-one-post. I'll address them in bullet points:

• I did used to dislike Seann William Scott, Weibel--your frequency of commenting has absolved you from the quotes; congratulations (and, yes, I used a fucking semicolon there)--but in recent years my distaste for him has waned as the memory of the shitheap that was the American Pie franchise gets more and more distant in the [cracked] rearview.
• Little Brother--your contributions to this blog are not lost on me either, nor is your blood relation, hence the quotation mark disappearance--I, too, found the SWS character more likeable than Rudd's.
  
• KRD--OK, so I've abandoned the use of quotes now; but not semicolons; I guess I have to do my part to the abuse that Cormac McCarthy has committed against the English language, and it begins in this post--I think Ryan Reynolds is really funny. Do you really want me to explain why Wet Hot is so funny? Well, I'll first absolve you from eternally landing on some imaginary shitlist of mine by telling you that it's all right. You don't have to like Wet Hot American Summer. If you want to know why it's funny to me, I'd have to go on for ages while watching it. In brief, Paul Rudd is absolutely hysterical in it. For the entire movie. I'm kind of lukewarm on Michael Showalter in general (and Michael Ian Black, for that matter) but line that his character "Coop" drops when Marguerite Moreau's "Katie" is walking away is a line that I at least think in my head once a week and laugh out loud. How is "I want you inside me" not hilarious? The string of Chris Meloni aggression followed by depraved sexual admissions followed by lame cover-up attempts is fucking great. The training sequence, along with "Higher and Higher" or "Turn Me Loose"--it was one of the two, but I'm pretty sure it was "Higher and Higher"--is pretty damn sweet, too. I could go on. Watch it with a bunch of people. Drunk. They even like Wet Hot American Summer in Portland.

Little Brother, I knew that you'd like that "Fame" clip. Almost as much as we both liked Carl Peterson's resignation.

I'm glad the Cynicism post stirred up some discussion among you three diligent posters. Too bad the other jerks that come here didn't chime in. I know who you are...

So that covers the last twenty posts or so. Anything further back would be so far back that it isn't really worth commenting on. I do read your comments, though, friends. Thanks for making this more of a communal forum than a meaningless stream of my mental masturbation.

Missing Paul

Obviously, he hadn't been very active in Hollywood for about a decade, but I think everyone will miss Paul Newman. He was so charismatic. He seemed so amiable. His wide smile lit up the screen like no one else.

He embodied cool both on screen and in real life and managed to do what few in Hollywood have done, maintaining a marriage for 50 years with Joanne Woodward.

While his roles later in life garnered more than their share of critical attention, it was the slew of iconic starring roles in films such as Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Hud, Cool Hand Luke, Harper, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, Slap Shot, The Verdict, Absence of Malice, The Hustler, and The Sting that emblazoned him into the collective consciousness. He made bold choices, repeatedly chose the part of anti-hero, routinely made those difficult characters easy to love.



I really enjoyed just about everything Paul Newman did and would probably rate him as my favorite actor ever, so it is today that I guess I have to hang my head and lament the fact that we've seen the last of Paul Newman on the big screen and the last of his generous philanthropic ways in the real world.

While his family mourns their loss, I can do no more than wish them well and hope that he went out without the pain we would associate with the cancer that ultimately beat him. We are all sorry for your loss and cannot possibly imagine how you feel.