The World According to Kyle Ray

The World is Your Shopping Cart Return

2012-02-08T07:49:00.000-08:00

Question: What kind of person leaves their shopping cart insome random parking space rather than returning it to the shopping cart return?

Answer: Every kind of person.

The old adage, “it takes all kinds” works well here, becauseyou’ll see all kinds of people leaving their carts in an inappropriate place.You’re just as likely to see it at Wal-Mart as you are outside of Saks. Blacks,whites, Hispanics, Asians; they all do it. People driving sports cars, mini vans,pickups, or low riders; they’re all guilty. The elderly, the teenagers, themiddle-aged; not one is clean. It really does take all kinds.

But the question is why? Why not put the cart where itbelongs. I’ve seen carts left blocking a space just a few feet from the return.Some people are clearly making it to the return with their cart, and yet othersjust leave their cart in any arbitrary space, along as it’s out of their way. I’veeven seen someone leave a cart blocking another vehicle.

Why? Are you too lazy to walk an extra 30 feet? Do you nothave time to make the extra 15 second walk? Or do you simply not care aboutyour society? I suspect that’s the real truth. The growing problem of shoppingcarts being left in any random spot is indicative of the growing problem thatpeople simply don’t care anymore. It relates to laziness, but it would bebetter defined as indifference. Some people just don’t care about other people.

What We Should Be Asking the Candidates

2012-02-06T15:22:00.000-08:00

I don't hear a whole lot about this subject coming from the GOP candidates,nor has Obama made much public mention of this growing issue, but there is agrowing crisis in the Middle East which may very well become a major issue inthe term of the next president.

While the US and the UN increase sanctions on Iran for simply exploring theidea of creating a nuclear program, Israel is taking a much more aggressiveapproach. Israel, which already has nuclear capabilities¹, haspretty much said to Iran, “we’ll attack first²”. Meaning if Iran,who philosophically believe Israel doesn’t have a right to exist, develops theability to wipe out Israel, Israel is not going to sit around on their buttswaiting for it to happen.

And if Israel attacks, there will be a domino effect of countries getting involved.China has an economic partnership with Iran, but will stay in the shadows atfirst. China will supply Syria and Syria will take Iran’s side. Pakistan orEgypt may get involved with Iran as well. If Pakistan gets involved then Indiawill want to fight Pakistan. At this point the United Nations will have to getinvolved too, obviously on the side of Israel and India.

I’m not sure who will put their chips in the pot first: China or US. Butonce one is in, the other will be automatically in as well. Russia³will jump in at some point too and before we know it, we’ll be in the midst ofa global war, bigger than the previous two. And then there’s South Korea, theymight be the game changer. They’ve got nuclear weapons and no one really knowswhat the South Koreans are capable of. Once they’re in, everyone has to startchoosing a side.

So the questions we need to be asking in the coming election, is not whatthey will do once the war starts; the questions need to be about discerning whether or not our leaders trulyunderstand what the hell is happening over there, and how they are going to keep the shit from hitting the fan.

1. It is not totally clear whether or not Israel has nuclear weapons, but they definitely have the capabilities... and they've probably got nuclear weapons already.
2. In my own words.
3. Russia doesn't have the economy to be a major player anymore, but they've got bombs and will side with China, so they're a credible threat.

The Labadini Plan

2010-02-26T19:14:00.000-08:00

First used by Larry Labadini in 1996, it is kind of a extreme variant on the LIMA Plan. In 1996 Larry spent $251 dollars on hitting, leaving just $9 to draft 9 pitchers with. This plan is ridiculous. In order to pull this off you must have a lot of confidence in your research and your ability to draft sleepers at the pitcher position. You also must scour the free agent market constantly and be able to grab the next big thing in pitching. On the other hand, you never have to worry about offense, as you will likely have one of the top players at each position.

I attempted to use a modified Labadini Plan one year. I spent about $25 on pitching and the rest on hitting. I wanted to get one decent staff ace, so I would at least have one respectable pitcher. Also, outfield is usually really deep and you can afford to spend a little less there and be okay. I ended up grabbing the highest rated players at catcher, 1^st base, 2n base, 3^rd base, and shortstop. My offense dominated, and with some savvy mid-season pickups to bolster my pitching, I finished 1^st that year.

However, I researched really well that season and made the right draft picks all the way through. I wouldn’t recommend using the Labadini plan unless you care less about winning, and more about having fun by trying something ridiculous.

The (Jose) L.I.M.A. Plan

2010-02-24T09:15:00.000-08:00

I’m getting geared up for baseball. In part because of the Ranger’s potential this season, and in part because I have effectively taken a two year hiatus from being an MLB fan. Now I’m back and trying to my baseball mind back into shape. In doing so, I’ve been studying stats and preparing for the season… the Rotisserie[1] Baseball Season.

This prep work had caused me to reflect on some of my past draft strategies. I feel baseball is unique in the world of fantasy sports because of its varying levels of strategy, especially for those involved in an auction-style draft. My next series of posts will be examining some of the various draft strategies and their likelihood of success.

I’ll start with one of the most widely used plans, The L.I.M.A Plan. Invented in by “The Great” Ron Shandler[2] in the mid 90’s, LIMA stands for Low Investment Mound Aces, and was in fact partly named for former Astros pitcher Jose Lima who was the poster child for this plan. The Idea here, you spend less than a quarter of your budget on pitchers leaving yourself a ton of money to lock up great hitting. With a standard budget of $260, a mere $60 would be spent on 10 pitchers, leaving $200 for your 15 hitters. To be successful with this strategy, you must shop wisely on pitching. You have to get guys on the cheap who have the potential to put up decent seasons.

You have to be patient and remember, this plan isn’t trying to win the pitching categories. You do want to place very highly in all the hitting categories, but you only need to run in the middle of the pact on pitching. So you aim for starters that can get you wins and strikeouts, but ignore ERA and WHIP. And you mix in some set-up relievers who can have low ERA and WHIP, but won’t provide much else. If done properly, you’ll be in the middle of the pact on pitching, and lead the league in hitting[3]. If done properly, this plan should you put you in the running to win the league.

I have employed this strategy a number of times and been successful. I have often used a variant of this plan, spending a little bit more to get a top starting pitcher, and sacrificing a little money in the outfield (which is always deep in talent). Using this plan effectively, and picking up the right free agents throughout the season, will always put you in the top three spots in the league. Which is why the LIMA plan is one of the more popular drafting strategies.

1. That’s right, I said “Rotisserie”. I’m bringing it back.
2. For some reason, whenever I read about Ron Shandler, his name is always preceded with “The Great”. For more on The Great Ron Shandler visit this fan page.
3. League leading hitting and mediocre pitching…? The Rangers have consistently employed the LIMA Plan in the past. I guess it doesn’t translate into real life.

The Ranger's Kahlil Greene is Feeling a Little Anxious

2010-02-22T10:29:00.000-08:00

The Ranger’s new utility infielder, Khalil Greene is not going to be reporting to Spring Training because of his repeated difficulties with Social Anxiety Disorder. This is something he has had to deal with a few times before in his career, and actually, it is something he has dealt with since he was a kid.

Social Anxiety Disorder is described as a “chronic fear of being judged by others and of being humiliated by one’s own actions.[1]” For Greene the disorder would cause a deeply rooted stress under the pressure to perform. The pressure however, was for the most part put upon by himself.

"I don't know what level, as far as how much one internalizes the feelings, how deep they go to the core of a person, but for me it's always been pretty deep. I've always taken the game pretty seriously and wanted to perform well. It's been a love-hate relationship in a lot of ways. A lot of that is natural and it's a response to what you consider important. A lot of that is healthy, but for me it wasn't healthy in terms of how deep it goes. I don't know how to describe it, other than the fact it wasn't pleasant.[2]"

In 2008 Greene broke his hand punching a wall in the dugout. And last season with the Cardinals Greene went on the DL because of the amount of stress.

All of this should have been a red flag fro the Rangers before signing Greene to a one-year, $7500,000 contract. But on the flip side, the potential pay off was worth the risk[3]. Greene is a talented player, and had he not been plagued by a mental condition for his career could have turned into an everyday starter. He would have been a perfect fit for the highly coveted Utility Infielder role that has been filled in the past by players such as Omar Vizquel, Mark DeRosa, and Billy Ripken[4]. Now the Ranger’s are in a last minute scramble to fill a very important position on the roster as they are forced to proceed under the assumption that Greene won’t be returning to Spring Training and may not play at all.

There are a small handful of decent options, both through free agency and in our system. Or watching the waiver wire toward the end of Spring Training may fill the need. It’s unlikely a trade would happen to fill the role, but that is still an outside possibility. Regardless, what the Ranger’s do to fill the Utility Infielder position is something worth watching as Spring Training progresses.

1. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Social_anxiety_disorder

2. http://mlb.fanhouse.com/2009/05/29/khalil-greene-describes-his-anxiety/

3. Historically, GM John Daniels hasn’t been afraid to take a risk on a player every now and then. Milton Bradley was a risk coming into the 2008 season and paid off big. Kenny Lofton was also a risk that yielded a nice return in 2007.

4. I love any opportunity to throw in a good Billy Ripken reference?

"The Time Has Come" the Walrus Said.

2010-02-19T14:57:00.000-08:00

This year’s Rangers team is without a doubt the best Rangers team ever, and at the same time will not be the best Rangers team ever. Seem like an oxymoron? Let me explain.

Based on talent, the Rangers enter spring training with the best squad they have ever had. But if we were to measure greatness based on wins, this years team will have to eclipse the mark set by the 1999 Rangers, of 95 wins. Though I think this team has more talent than the ’99 team (as well as more talent than the 94 win team of 1974), I think there are a few key reason that will keep the 2010 Rangers from reaching 95 wins.

Fact: The Rangers have had a league MVP in each of the three seasons they have made playoffs (J. Gonzalez – ’96, J. Gonzalez – ’98, I. Rodriguez – ’99)[1].

Let’s start with a look at the talent this year.
1B – Chris Davis – Powerful slugger who adopted some patience at the plate after a mid season trip back down to triple-A last season. However, top hitting prospect Justin Smoak is looming in the wings, and may be almost ready for his big break.
2B – Ian Kinsler – Can hit, field, and run with the best of them. Look for a back-to-back 30/30 season, and my personal pick for league MVP.
3B – Mike Young – He had his second best hitting season of his career last year at .322, and always plays great defense.
SS – Elvis Andrus – In his rookie campaign, he hit a meager .267, but managed 33 steals. His minor league scouting reports have pegged Andrus with the potential to hit .300 consistently, so I expect more hits, more steals, and more runs scored in 2010. Not to mention the occasional Sports Center appearance on account of his stellar glove work.
LF – Nelson Cruz – in ’09 he hit 33 homeruns in just 462 at bats (or 1 every 14 Abs), that kind of power can put you in the homerun race come September.
CF – Julio Borbon – Here’s a reason to get excited, Borbon stole 19 bases in just 157 at bats. Let me put it another way: Borbon stole 19 bases in just 64 times on base (hits + walks). That’s a stolen base every 3.37 times he reaches base. He hit .312 last season… if this guy can figure out how to draw more walks...
RF – Josh Hamilton – Let’s forget about last year’s injuries and take a moment to remember the 2008 homerun derby… Yeah, that’s the Josh Hamilton we’re hoping for.
C – Jason Saltalamacchia/Taylor Teagarden – There’s some debate over who gets this job. Salty is the favorite because he’s the better hitter, but team management has stated it's an open competition. And anytime there’s a position battle, it means it’s a weaker position. Catcher could turn out to be the biggest liability the Rangers have this season[2].
DH – Vladimir Guerrero – 8 time all star, 7 time silver slugger, and the 2004 MVP… But the real reason for optimism over this signing: Vlad has a .384 batting average in 50 games at the Ballpark in Arlington.

Fact: No one has stolen more than 80 bases in a season since Ricky Henderson and Vince Colman did it in the 1988 season. I’m not saying it’s going to happen, I’m just saying, wouldn’t it be awesome.

Now onto the rotation:
At this point I would like to refer to this article by Jamey Newberg.

Let’s assume that Rich Harden and Scott Feldman fill the number 1 and 2 spots respectively. It also seems likely that Coldy Lewis will get a rotation spot as well. That leaves an interesting battle for the last two spots (between Derek Holland, Tommy Hunter, Matt Harrison, Brandon McCarthy, and Neftali Feliz). But I want to go on record as I saying “I don’t care.” It really doesn’t matter who wins those last two spots. Because I know from many years of watching the Rangers, that injuries and/or poor pitching will make the opening season rotation all but forgotten by May 1st.

Somebody once said, “It takes three good starters to win the World Series[3].” Meaning a team has to have three starting pitchers, that can legitimately perform at a top level, in order to win a World Series. Sure it takes good hitting. Sure it takes good defense. But pitching is paramount. And the Rangers might just be capable of going strong, three deep in the rotation, come October. So the real position battle isn’t for the last two spots in the rotation. The real position battle is for the number three spot in the rotation around late-September.

Fact: Last Season, Ranger’s pitching yielded 740 runs. The fewest the team has yielded since 1995.

The bullpen:
I have to say, I’m a little worried about the bullpen. Relief pitching accounts for a third of the pitching. That’s a lot. In my mind, the bullpen is every bit as important as the rotation. And here is what we know for sure: Frank Francisco will close games, CJ Wilson and Darren Oliver are left-handed… That’s about it. I think the bullpen could be good, but I think the Rangers are a middle-reliever away from being a true contender. But for now, let’s keep our fingers crossed that Mike Maddux has this thing under control (or will suit up if the need arises).

Fact: Last season, the Rangers scored 784 runs. The fewest the team has scored since 1995.

This team is awesome. From top to bottom, one of the best in the majors. Potentially even, the best. And yet, the will not win 95 games. Why? To quote the groundskeepers in the movie Major League, “They’re still shitty.” But why? Why won’t they let us have this? Why must they always fall to mediocrity? Because of Injuries. This is what will be our demise this season. Let’s say our five best hitters are Hamilton, Guerrero, Kinsler, Cruz, and Young. Between these five, I predict they will miss a combined 160 games due to injuries. Equivocally, that’s like not having one of these guys at all. For example, if we didn’t have Cruz and we had David Murphy[4] instead. That’s not bad, but it could be enough to make us a second place team. Not to mention that Rich Harden and Colby Lewis are a bit of a gamble in that area too. I fear that injuries are the one (and only) thing that keeps this years team from being the greatest Ranger’s team ever.

Well, I’m only basing that on regular season wins. If we were to consider something else to gauge this teams success, it might be a different story. Such as… I don’t know… post season victories.

Fact: The Ranger’s are the oldest team in any of the 4 major US sports (MLB, NFL, NHL, and NBA), to never have appeared in a league championship game[5].

This is my prediction. Injuries plague the Rangers most of the season. But everyone seems to get healthy around mid to late-August. Pedro Borbon struggles early, but a mid season trip to triple-A gives him patience at the plate (like 2009 Chris Davis). Our starting pitching depth allows us to keep some key starters from getting burned out too soon. A slightly milder summer weather-wise keeps everyone from burning out too soon. Everything starts to come together around mid-August. Traditionally, this has been a time for the Rangers to begin their decline. But 2010, things will be different. The Rangers don’t win 95 games, but they do win the division. The Rangers win in post season. Kinsler wins MVP. Ron Washington wins Manager of the Year. I win a million dollars[6].

Fact: Making bold predictions and reciting meaningless stats is part of what makes baseball so enjoyable. That, and Yogi Berra quotes[7].

1. Also, the 94 win 1974 team featured MVP winner Jeff Burroughs. But the team finished second behind the Oakland A’s.
2. That’s not true, injuries are the biggest liability the Rangers have.
3. Yes, I am absolutely insinuating that the Rangers have a shot.
4. Actually, I’m predicting David Murphy to get around 420 at bats and bolster a .280 average. Not bad for your 4th outfielder.
5. And the only MLB team to never have won a playoff series.
6. If it turns out I know nothing about baseball, let this prediction be the one that comes true.
7. "I always thought that record would stand until it was broken."

The Sunday Morning Experience - Bellaire United Methodist

2010-01-05T15:31:00.000-08:00

The Sunday Morning Experience – Bellaire UMC

I’ve been looking forward to attending Bellaire for awhile now. This is Jessica’s church in Houston and she has told me many things about it. From what Jessica has told me I knew I could expect a fairly traditional United Methodist worship service. So I was looking for what this church does that was beyond the norm. Like Karen the Greeter for example. I have this vision of Karen entering the sanctuary like a trained hunter. She glances the room, carefully picking out her prey. By this I mean, she comes in and automatically looks for faces she doesn’t know. She makes an effort to try and meet everyone she can in the few minutes prior to the service starting. She also positions herself in the foyer outside the back of the sanctuary, near the visitor’s information table, to greet people as they leave.

I don’t know if Karen does this as the church’s official greeter, or if she is just one of those people. Either way, it was nice. In fact a handful of people made an effort to greet us and thank us for visiting, but Karen was the only one who attempted to have an actual conversation. The level at which we were greeted was just right. I’ve been to other churches where they attempt to single out visitors and make a big deal out of it. I’ve been to many churches where visitors go unnoticed. Bellaire struck a good balance between the two.

One note of criticism¹: The sanctuary seemed to have very poor acoustics and featured a very outdated sound system. It seems as though the sanctuary wasn’t built to carry the sound of a choir very well. And the sound system was small and looked as if it were 30 – 40 years old. I bet the regular attendees never notice what they are missing. But I believe I know what a good sound system makes worship sound like, and this was far from it. This church could use a big step forward in terms of technology. Not just their sound system, but also their small screens which use PowerPoint to lead worship, and even the lighting system in the sanctuary could use an update. This seems to be a healthy church with a pleasant, friendly congregation, and despite their lack of new technology, it’s a church I look forward to visiting again.

Actually, two more notes of criticism: At one point we sang the song, We are the World. This is not okay. Churches need to not sing this song. Ever.

A Day at Church

2009-12-23T06:42:00.000-08:00

This past Sunday I deviated from my original schedule. Since this was just my second week into this exercise of visiting different church, I feel this may set a bad early precedence for myself. But I wanted to attend my home church of Meadowbrook UMC to see Rev. Chandler do his first person sermon. This is where he plays a biblical character, and delivers the message from the voice of that character. This past Sunday he played the role of the inn keeper that shut out Joseph and Mary. Over all it was good, and had a distinct message to it.... so for the life of me I can not recall what that message was right now.

Since I am quite familiar with Meadowbrook, it is difficult for me to give an honest "visitor's account" of my experience there. So in lieu of that I have decided to share a poem about church. Upon cleaning out my closet I discovered some writings I had done many years ago. One of those writings was a poem titled A Day at Church. I can remember writing this, and it's words were inspired by many Sunday mornings at Meadowbrook1. Thus I feel it might be appropriate for now.

A Day at Church

An old man speaks.

I sit expressionless,
Glancing around at other
Expressionless faces,
Lots of people I don’t know.

The choir sings.

I look down at the golf pencils,
How far could I get one
Up my nose before
It starts bleeding?

Now we pray.

Is that mud on my shoes?
I hope its mud.
Where did I get mud from?
Did it rain this morning?

An old man speaks.

The ceiling is divided into 18 sections,
Each section has several small tiles,
144 small tiles in each section,
2592 small tiles in all.

An old woman sings.

What if I jabbed the
Golf pencil into my eye?
Would everyone turn around?
Would the old lady stop singing?

More prayer.

I wonder how many tiles
There are on the floor?
Can I crawl under the pews?
Would anyone care?

More singing.

There are 4 sections of pews,
18 pews in each section,
4 golf pencils to each pew,
288 little golf pencils.

An old man speaks.

A note gets passed,
Lunch. Question mark.
Chili’s, On the Border, Friday’s
Question mark.

The old man is still speaking.

I imagine I am watching a slow train,
I count each rail car as it passes,
432 and counting,
There’s no caboose in sight.

We sing again.

Mr. Johnson didn’t stand up.
I wonder if he’s asleep,
I wonder if he’s dead,
Either way I envy him.

The benediction!

Anticipation, eagerness,
Finally I can leave.
Church is over!
Thank God. Amen.

Upcoming schedule:
January 3rd – Bellaire United Methodist (Houston, TX)
January 10th – Brookhaven United Methodist (Dallas, TX)
January 17th – New Beginnings Church (Arlington, TX)

1. In fairness to Meadowbook, their worship service at the time was considerably more drab than it is now.

The Sunday Morning Experience - Felowship Church

2009-12-13T12:58:00.000-08:00

With my recent departure from Faith UMC I find myself, for the first time in over seven years, not required to attend a church on Sunday morning. I’ve contemplated sleeping in, waking up just in time to watch football. However, it would feel just plain weird not to go to church on Sunday. But I’m not sure where to go. I could go to Meadowbrook UMC, but there isn’t much to attract me on a Sunday morning. So then where do I go? I’ve decided I must find a place, and I’ve decided I’m going to go “church shopping”. For the next several weeks I plan to attend a different church every Sunday and evaluate my experience there. In part, I want to figure out what it is I really look for in a church, but I also want to see how others worship. I am well versed in the traditional United Methodist worship, and I think it will be fun to broaden my horizons, and experience more, different forms of worship.

I started this Sunday by going big… huge in fact. I attend Grapevine’s mega-church, Fellowship Church. The first thing you’ll notice about FC is the greeters. There are hundreds of greeters from the moment you enter the parking lot, as you enter the doors, and as you make your way through the foyer, toward the worship center. The worship center is an expansive auditorium, with three large screens, a large stage, many many lights, and theater-type seating. The worship experience here resembles something, more like a rock concert that a church service. The worship band was traditional in the rock band sense: lead singer/guitar, lead guitar/back up vocals, bass guitar, and drummer. But the band also had an additional five vocalist and a small choir behind them. They played three songs, none of which I recognized as something I’ve heard previously, before moving on to the sermon.

At this point I should point out the sheer size of FC. It’s more than just a church… or I should say, it’s more than just one church. In fact they have several campuses in downtown Fort Worth, downtown Dallas, Plano, and Miami, Florida… Miami? Really? That seems distant and random.

Today’s sermon was brought to us live from Plano. Meaning, we watch a broadcast, on their three big screens, of the sermon that was being delivered simultaneously at the Plano campus. This is typical on all of their campuses apparently, as the church with the “in person” sermon seems to rotate. But this left me with a feeling of disconnectedness. The message of the sermon was good, and on point with the scripture, but there’s something less personal about watching the sermon on TV. Which is essentially what is was, just watching TV.

After the sermon, there was a brief video from the church’s lead pastor, Ed Young, on the importance of giving. And then another song was played as the offering baskets were passed around. After that, a short prayer, and we were dismissed. And that’s how it felt at the end, like we were being dismissed from something. There wasn’t much hanging around and socializing, everyone immediately got up and proceeded in an orderly fashion out the doors.

There are pros and cons to a service like this. On the one had, the message was meaningful and deep, the band was talented, and the production value was above and beyond. However, there were some key elements missing for me. For starters, I noted there was no altar present. Though I realize an altar isn’t necessarily required for a worship to be valid, I also don’t see it as a small thing. I like having an altar, even if it’s nothing more than a place to set a cross… Come to think of it, I don’t remember seeing a crucifixion present anywhere in the worship center. Really? I can’t recall seeing a single cross located anywhere. That just seems weird.

I also felt like there could have been more prayer as well. A couple of short prayers on either end of the sermon weren’t quite enough. And even another song or two wouldn’t have hurt. Overall I was left feeling disconnected in a spiritual way. Though I did get something out of the message, it was more the feeling of when you learn something really good in class. The spirit still wasn’t in it for me. This is a huge church, and they offer a lot in an attempt to appeal to everyone. But the heart of a church is its Sunday morning worship. And if the spirit isn’t at the heart of everything, then what’s the point?

My upcoming schedule:

December 20^th – New Beginnings Church (Arlington, TX)

December 27^th – Out of town to Oklahoma, may not make it to church

January 3^rd – Bellaire United Methodist (Houston, TX)

January 10^th – Brookhaven United Methodist (Dallas, TX)

The Breakup

2009-05-09T19:24:00.001-07:00

The straw that broke the camel's back. It may have been a small straw, but nonetheless, it was the final straw. I don't like feeling mistreated. I think my loyalty should be rewarded and not taken for granted. But I don't feel that way. I feel hurt and nauseous. "This must be a dream," I keep thinking, "It can't be real."

Antoine Wright fouled Carmelo Anthony; that is fact. And there is no acceptable reason to justify why it wasn't called. In the grand scheme of things one could say that it was a minor mistake by the referees (although one with major ramifications), and that I am overreacting. But it has been a series of minor mistakes that has gotten me to this point. I've watched a lot of play off games this post season, and my opinion comes in a somewhat non-biased form. I'll admit that I am biased when I watch Maverick games(1), but I am virtually unbiased when I watch any other game. I can say that I have watched approximately half of the postseason games to this point, and I can say with complete confidence that the officiating has been inconsistent at best (and flat out awful at worst). And it's that inconsistency that has brought me to my decision. I'm through.

It frustrates me more than anything else to see bad officiating, in any sport. And basketball seems to have the worst. I'm not completely sure why that is. I realize that calling any sport must be difficult, but the same inconsistencies are not present in other sports. Football has the benefit of instant reply to get some things right(2), and maybe baseball is just easier. Maybe it's the fast paced, physical nature of basketball that makes it more difficult. I don't know. But I can't go on being a basketball fan if it's going to upset me this often. And so, I'm through.

It may seem irrational, but it really isn't. If my girlfriend angered me every time we were together, I'd break up. If a friend constantly upset me, they would cease to be my friend. So why should I continue my relationship with basketball when it always upsets me?

And for those of you who think this is temporary and that will be back together in a week, think again. I broke up with baseball back in '05 and only now have I started to care again(3). I have the will power to break up with the NBA, and once I break up, I through. Perhaps, at some point I will return to being a passive fan, following a team again, but for now, I'm through.

Of course it wasn't all bad times. There are certain memories that I will always cherish. The comeback against the Spurs in the 2006 finals, for example. Or the joy of watching a brilliant rookie season from a future star, like Josh Howard or Jason Kidd. I'll never forget hustle players like Eddie Najara, Darrel Armstrong, or Brandon Bass. And the thought of Popey Jones' ears will always bring a smile to my face(6).

Like the break up of any meaningful relationship, it's a little saddening. But I have to remember that in the end, its really the best thing for both of us. I'll always look back fondly on my time with basketball(7), and I wish it all the best in the future.

1. Bias aside, the final blown call is indisputable.
2. But so does basketball and it seems to be used more often.
3. I still wouldn't say that I'm back to being a "fan"(4) of Major League Baseball, but I am back to following the rangers again.
4. I mean 'fan' in the sense of it being the shortened form of the word 'fanatic'(5). I was at one point in time a fanatic about baseball. Same for basketball too. But I am no longer a fanatic and I can't ever really see myself become one again.
5. Of course I realize that the word fan has more than one connotation. So let me say, when I stopped being a fan of baseball, what I mean is I stopped following, I lost all interest in going to games, I stopped caring about the Rangers or any thing else with baseball. Only now am I becoming a passive fan, as the MLB has begun to make some attempts to correct the error of there ways.
6. Or Avery Johnson's voice, or Shawn Bradley's... ridiculousness.
7. I feel it necessary to clarify that this "breakup" only pertains to NBA basketball. I'll still enjoy playing basketball and may even pick up college hoops... well maybe, I don't think I ready just yet for a relationship with any organized basketball right now. I need to take some time for myself first.

CRASH BAM BOOM

2009-04-27T14:40:00.001-07:00

… is not the sound my truck made as it hit the wall. It was actually more of a crunch sound. There wasn’t a single dry part of I-35 as I made my trek to San Antonio. In fact it was horrendously pouring in some parts. As I entered New Bransfels it was raining hard, but not crazy hard. Nonetheless, I felt the slickness of the roads beneath my tires and decided it best to pay close attention to my truck and the road. Hands at 10 and 2, eyes straight ahead, cell phone out of sight, radio turned down. I felt safe with my speed 50-55mph because I was getting passed on both sides. I drove in the right-middle lane of the four lane section of I-35 and ended up crossing the two lanes to my left before crunching the wall. What happened? I simply lost control. My truck hydroplaned and I was left helpless as I spun a full 360 narrowly missing an 18-wheeler.

The point of impact was my front driver’s side corner. The bumper is crushed in and pressing against the tire. The good news is I am not writing this from a hospital ER but rather from the lobby of Tri-County Collision. Gerry at Tri-County will look at my truck first thing in the morning and I’ll know the verdict then. I am fine and have no pain at all, so no worries there.

The weird part though is my reaction as it started to happen. I can distinctly remember saying to myself, “Well, this is happening” as I begun my spin. I never tensed up at all and I can remember feeling very calm as I spun into the wall. I’m not sure how to feel about my complete lack of fear while this happened. Several people now have said, “wow, I bet that was scary,” and I’ve agreed with each of them. But in fact, I wasn’t scared at all. I wonder why. How could I not be terrified? Wouldn’t everyone else? Weird.

And the Winner Is.... Me

2009-04-18T19:44:00.000-07:00

My church's silent auction dinner tonight went much better than expected. My expectations were to make around $800 to go toward mission trip. At best I thought we might clear $1000. When it was all said and done we pulled in $1199 and everyone seemed to have a really good time. But having our most successful fundraiser ever isn't the only thing I'm excited about.

Our crown jewel of the auction was two 7-day passes to the Crown Plaza Invitational at the Colonial Country Club. This, of course, is a leg of the PGA tour featuring some of the top golfers in the world. Last years winner Phil Mickelson will be back again this year to defend in what will likely be an exciting tournament. The listed value on the tickets was $360, but I knew they would sell for much lower than that, giving someone a great value. I hoped they would sell for as little as $150 which is the most my mom was willing to spend on them. But when I glanced at the auction sheet in the middle of the night and saw it was already up to $160,I couldn't help but be a little disappointed. After I called the close of the auction, the sheets were collected and brought to me to read off the winners for each price. "Winner of 4 passes to Rave Theaters... Winner of 2 fun family packs at Putt-Putt... Winner of a $25 gift certificate to Mexican Inn..." and so on and so forth. Obviously I would wait until the end to announce the winner of the Colonial tickets, building as much suspense as I could. In fact my plan was to read all of them, except the Colonial tickets and fake as if that was it and I was trying to secretly steal the 7-day passes. But when it came time for my little rouse, I glanced down to see who the winner really was, and I was completely caught off guard by the name I saw. "Carol Howton - $210" I proudly read off the winning name and followed with an enthusiastic, "Thank you mom!"

So now I am the proud owner of two 7-day passes to a PGA event. Of course the main event is Thursday - Sunday, but there is something going on everyday starting Monday, May 25th. Monday and Wednesday both feature a pro-am event, Tuesday is reserved for the pros to practice (which should offer some uncrowded picture taking opportunities), and then Thursday begins the Tournament proper. Initially I thought I would be giving away half of my passes, but as I think about it, this definitely seems worth it to take off work for an entire week. I can easily see myself hanging out for 12 hours a day being a golf groupie... but now the question becomes, which golfer am I going to follow and obsess over?

My 10,959th Day

2009-04-15T16:30:00.000-07:00

I've got a full day planned for my 30th birthday tomorrow, here's a run down of my schedule.

5:00 - Wake up
5:01 - Shower
5:15 - Wake up again
5:20 - finish showering, dry off brush teeth, apply deodorant, get dressed, etc.
5:30 - Leave and go to my mom's house.
5:50 - pick up my mom and take her to Meadowbrook to meet the Road Runners. The bus doesn't leave until 7:00 but my mom is habitually way too early for things.
6:00-6:20 - Wait around with my mom until someone else shows up.
6:30 - Breakfast. Right now I'm thinking sausage rolls for The Kolache Shop. After that I'll chill at my mom's house and watch some TV for awhile.
8:00 - Meet Sam at the job site to spend some quality hours with him in an attic.
1:00ish - Lunch. Something that is fast and food.
4:00ish - Finish working and head home.
4:25-4:40 - Curse the traffic around my apartment.
5:00 - Shower
5:15 - Wake up
5:20 - Finish showering and dry off. Then I'll likely lounge around naked watching TV for awhile.
6:50 - Leave for church and the excitement of a church council meeting.
7:30 - Church council meeting starts.
7:45 - Wonder how long this thing is going to last.
8:30ish - The meeting ends and I begin setting up tables for Saturday's Silent Auction Dinner.
9:00 - I leave the church for home.
9:01 - I call Jessica as soon as my free minute kick in.
9:25 - Arrive home, go to bedroom, and lay down. Continue talking to Jessica and try
not to fall asleep on the phone.
10:00 - Wonder if this is a normal way to celebrate someone 30th birthday.
12:01 - Drink a beer in celebration of my 10,960th day.

23 Questions

2009-04-08T15:30:00.000-07:00

An excerpt from Chuck Klosterman's book, Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs.

23 Questions I Ask Everybody I Meet In Order To Decide If I Can Really Love Them

Shall we begin?

1. Let us assume you met a rudimentary magician. Let us assume he can do five simple tricks--he can pull a rabbit out of his hat, he can make a coin disappear, he can turn the ace of spades into the Joker card, and two others in a similar vein. These are his only tricks and he can't learn any more; he can only do these five. HOWEVER, it turns out he's doing these five tricks with real magic. It's not an illusion; he can actually conjure the bunny out of the ether and he can move the coin through space. He's legitimately magical, but extremely limited in scope and influence.

Would this person be more impressive than Albert Einstein?

2. Let us assume a fully grown, completely healthy Clydesdale horse has his hooves shackled to the ground while his head is held in place with thick rope. He is conscious and standing upright, but completely immobile. And let us assume that--for some reason--every political prisoner on earth (as cited by Amnesty International) will be released from captivity if you can kick this horse to death in less than twenty minutes. You are allowed to wear steel-toed boots.

Would you attempt to do this?

3. Let us assume there are two boxes on a table. In one box, there is a relatively normal turtle; in the other, Adolf Hitler's skull. You have to select one of these items for your home. If you select the turtle, you can't give it away and you have to keep it alive for two years; if either of these parameters are not met, you will be fined $999 by the state. If you select Hitler's skull, you are required to display it in a semi-prominent location in your living room for the same amount of time, although you will be paid a stipend of $120 per month for doing so. Display of the skull must be apolitical.

Which option do you select?

4. Genetic engineers at Johns Hopkins University announce that they have developed a so-called "super gorilla." Though the animal cannot speak, it has a sign language lexicon of over twelve thousand words, an I.Q. of almost 85, and--most notably--a vague sense of self-awareness. Oddly, the creature (who weighs seven hundred pounds) becomes fascinated by football. The gorilla aspires to play the game at its highest level and quickly develops the rudimentary skills of a defensive end. ESPN analyst Tom Jackson speculates that this gorilla would be "borderline unblockable" and would likely average six sacks a game (although Jackson concedes the beast might be susceptible to counters and misdirection plays). Meanwhile, the gorilla has made it clear he would never intentionally injure any opponent.

You are commissioner of the NFL: Would you allow this gorilla to sign with the Oakland Raiders?

5. You meet your soul mate. However, there is a catch: Every three years, someone will break both of your soul mate's collarbones with a Crescent wrench, and there is only one way you can stop this from happening: You must swallow a pill that will make every song you hear--for the rest of your life--sound as if it's being performed by the band Alice in Chains. When you hear Creedence Clearwater Revival on the radio, it will sound (to your ears) like it's being played by Alice in Chains. If you see Radiohead live, every one of their tunes will sound like it's being covered by Alice in Chains. When you hear a commercial jingle on TV, it will sound like Alice in Chains; if you sing to yourself in the shower, your voice will sound like deceased Alice vocalist Layne Staley performing a capella (but it will only sound this way to you).

Would you swallow the pill?

6. At long last, someone invents "the dream VCR." This machine allows you to tape an entire evening's worth of your own dreams, which you can then watch at your leisure. However, the inventor of the dream VCR will only allow you to use this device of you agree to a strange caveat: When you watch your dreams, you must do so with your family and your closest friends in the same room. They get to watch your dreams along with you. And if you don't agree to this, you can't use the dream VCR.

Would you still do this?

7. Defying all expectation, a group of Scottish marine biologists capture a live Loch Ness Monster. In an almost unbelievable coincidence, a bear hunter in the Pacific Northwest shoots a Sasquatch in the thigh, thereby allowing zoologists to take the furry monster into captivity. These events happen on the same afternoon. That evening, the president announces he may have thyroid cancer and will undergo a biopsy later that week.

You are the front page editor of The New York Times: What do you play as the biggest story?

8. You meet the perfect person. Romantically, this person is ideal: You find them physically attractive, intellectually stimulating, consistently funny, and deeply compassionate. However, they have one quirk: This individual is obsessed with Jim Henson's gothic puppet fantasy The Dark Crystal. Beyond watching it on DVD at least once a month, he/she peppers casual conversation with Dark Crystal references, uses Dark Crystal analogies to explain everyday events, and occasionally likes to talk intensely about the film's "deeper philosophy."

Would this be enough to stop you from marrying this individual?

9. A novel titled Interior Mirror is released to mammoth commercial success (despite middling reviews). However, a curious social trend emerges: Though no one can prove a direct scientific link, it appears that almost 30 percent of the people who read this book immediately become homosexual. Many of these newfound homosexuals credit the book for helping them reach this conclusion about their orientation, despite the fact that Interior Mirror is ostensibly a crime novel with no homoerotic content (and was written by a straight man).

Would this phenomenon increase (or decrease) the likelihood of you reading this book?

10. This is the opening line of Jay McInerney's Bright Lights, Big City: "You are not the kind of guy who would be in a place like this at this time of the morning." Think about that line in the context of the novel (assuming you've read it). Now go to your CD collection and find Heart's Little Queen album (assuming you own it). Listen to the opening riff to "Barracuda."

Which of these two introductions is a higher form of art?

11. You are watching a movie in a crowded theater. Though the plot is mediocre, you find yourself dazzled by the special effects. But with twenty minutes left in the film, you are struck with an undeniable feeling of doom: You are suddenly certain your mother has just died. There is no logical reason for this to be true, but you are certain of it. You are overtaken with the irrational metaphysical sense that--somewhere--your mom has just perished. But this is only an intuitive, amorphous feeling; there is no evidence for this, and your mother has not been ill.

Would you immediately exit the theater, or would you finish watching the movie?

12. You meet a wizard in downtown Chicago. The wizard tells you he can make you more attractive if you pay him money. When you ask how this process works, the wizard points to a random person on the street. You look at this random stranger. The wizard says, "I will now make them a dollar more attractive." He waves his magic wand. Ostensibly, this person does not change at all; as far as you can tell, nothing is different. But--somehow--this person is suddenly a little more appealing. The tangible difference is invisible to the naked eye, but you can't deny that this person is vaguely sexier. This wizard has a weird rule, though--you can only pay him once. You can't keep giving him money until you're satisfied. You can only pay him one lump sum up front.

How much cash do you give the wizard?

13. Every person you have ever slept with is invited to a banquet where you are the guest of honor. No one will be in attendance except you, the collection of your former lovers, and the catering service. After the meal, you are asked to give a fifteen-minute speech to the assembly.

What do you talk about?

14. For reasons that cannot be explained, cats can suddenly read at a twelfth-grade level. They can't talk and they can't write, but they can read silently and understand the text. Many cats love this new skill, because they now have something to do all day while they lay around the house; however, a few cats become depressed, because reading forces them to realize the limitations of their existence (not to mention the utter frustration of being unable to express themselves).

This being the case, do you think the average cat would enjoy Garfield, or would cats find this cartoon to be an insulting caricature?

15. You have a brain tumor. Though there is no discomfort at the moment, this tumor would unquestionably kill you in six months. However, your life can (and will) be saved by an operation; the only downside is that there will be a brutal incision to your frontal lobe. After the surgery, you will be significantly less intelligent. You will still be a fully functioning adult, but you will be less logical, you will have a terrible memory, and you will have little ability to understand complex concepts or difficult ideas. The surgery is in two weeks.

How do you spend the next fourteen days?

16. Someone builds and optical portal that allows you to see a vision of your own life in the future (it’s essentially a crystal ball that shows a randomly selected image of what your life will be like in twenty years). You can only see into this portal for thirty seconds. When you finally peer into the crystal, you see yourself in a living room, two decades older than you are today. You are watching a Canadian football game, and you are extremely happy. You are wearing a CFL jersey. Your chair is surrounded by books and magazines that promote the Canadian Football League, and there are CFL pennants covering your walls. You are alone in the room, but you are gleefully muttering about historical moments in Canadian football history. It becomes clear that—for some unknown reason—you have become obsessed with Canadian football. And this future is static and absolute; no matter what you do, this future will happen. The optical portal is never wrong. This destiny cannot be changed.

The next day, you are flipping through television channels and randomly come across a pre-season CFL game between the Toronto Argonauts and the Saskatchewan Roughriders. Knowing your inevitable future, do you now watch it?

17. You are sitting in an empty bar (in a town you’ve never before visited), drinking Bacardi with a soft-spoken acquaintance you barely know. After an hour, a third individual walks into the tavern and sits by himself, and you ask your acquaintance who the new man is. “Be careful of that guy,” you are told. “He is a man with a past.” A few minutes later, a fourth person enters the bar; he also sits alone. You ask your acquaintance who this new individual is. “Be careful of that guy, too,” he says. “He is a man with no past.”

Which of these two people do you trust less?

18. You have won a prize. The prize has two options, and you can choose either (but not both). The first option is a year in Europe with a monthly stipend of $2,000. The second option is ten minutes on the moon.

Which option do you select?

19. Your best friend is taking a nap on the floor of your living room. Suddenly, you are faced with a bizarre existential problem: This friend is going to die unless you kick them (as hard as you can) in the rib cage. If you don’t kick them while they slumber, they will never wake up. However, you can never explain this to your friend; if you later inform them that you did this to save their life, they will also die from that. So you have to kick a sleeping friend in the ribs, and you can’t tell them why.

Since you cannot tell your friend the truth, what excuse will you fabricate to explain this (seemingly inexplicable) attack?

20. For whatever the reason, two unauthorized movies are made about your life. The first is an independently released documentary, primarily comprised of interviews with people who know you and bootleg footage from your actual life. Critics are describing the documentary as “brutally honest and relentlessly fair.” Meanwhile, Columbia Tri-Star has produced a big-budget biopic of your life, casting major Hollywood stars as you and all your acquaintances; though the movie is based on actual events, screenwriters have taken some liberties with the facts. Critics are split on the artistic merits of this fictionalized account, but audiences love it.

Which film would you be most interested in seeing?

21. Imagine you could go back to the age of five and relive the rest of your life, knowing everything that you know now. You will re-experience your entire adolescence with both the cognitive ability of an adult and the memories of everything you’ve learned form having lived your life previously.

Would you lose your virginity earlier or later than you did the first time around (and by how many years)?

22. You work in an office. Generally, you are popular with your coworkers. However, you discover that there are currently two rumors circulating the office gossip mill, and both involve you. The first rumor is that you got drunk at the office holiday party and had sex with one of your married coworkers. This rumor is completely true, but most people don’t believe it. The second rumor is that you have been stealing hundreds of dollars of office supplies (and then selling them to cover a gambling debt). This rumor is completely false, but virtually everyone assumes it is factual.

Which of these two rumors is most troubling to you?

23. Consider this possibility:

a. Think about deceased TV star John Ritter.

b. Now, pretend Ritter had never become famous. Pretend he was never affected by the trappings of fame, and try to imagine what his personality would have been like.

c. Now, imagine that this person—the unfamous John Ritter—is a character in a situation comedy.

d. Now, you are also a character in this sitcom, and the unfamous John Ritter character is your sitcom father.

e. However, this sitcom is actually your real life. In other words, you are living inside a sitcom: Everything about our life is a construction, featuring the unfamous John Ritter playing himself (in the role of your TV father). But this is not a sitcom. This is your real life.

How would you feel about this?

……

I guess the question now is can you really love me?

The Face of Death

2009-03-25T19:13:00.000-07:00

I left the guy's house just moments ago... and I feel fortunate to have made it home alive...

I noted how the night seemed darker than usual as I walked down the driveway toward the street. As I reached the foot of the driveway I heard a sound, like that of a stick being stepped on, off to my left. I glanced over and saw a shadowy figure, dressed in black. At first glance he looked like an old man out for a leisurely stroll. But who takes there evening walk this late? His frail, bony body was dressed in all black, and his hair was a silvery puff, not unlike an afro, that rest on top of his frail and bony face. There was something about him though... something that left an uneasy feeling in my gut. As I walked away from him, and toward my truck, I couldn't help but glance back. It seemed that his gait had increased and he was walking more briskly now. Why was he walking faster? Was there a "look in his eyes" now too? A look that expressed a certain determination foretold an agenda which I did not yet know? I took just a few steps before I peeked back at the shadowy figure once again. He had definitely increased speed and it felt like he was closing in... Wait! What was he closing in on? Shit! He's closing in on me!

I quickly glanced back once again as I pulled my keys out and attempted to locate the right one. A light caught his face for a moment and I was able to make out an image that drove sheer terror up my spine. The reason his face seemed frail and bony is because it was in fact a skull. A skull with a puff of silver hair growing from the top and bulging eyes that expressed a murderous determination. And his bony legs were moving even faster as he was now moving at the pace of a fast walk.

I unlocked my door, jumped in, slammed the door shut, slid the lock over and dropped my keys. "Oh shit!" I picked them up, put them in the ignition, turned the key, started the car, and sighed as I put the car in gear and sped away. I looked in my rear view mirror as I pulled away to find that he had almost made it to my door before I was able to get going.

The possibility of reality has now set in and I'm starting to consider that maybe I didn't really see a skeleton faced angel of death. Is it possible that it was just a neighbor? A neighbor who happen to have a frail, bony face and a frail, bony body? Maybe he wasn't walk walking as fast as I thought, or maybe he just enjoys power walking. And I'll even say its possible, that the scythe he was holding was just an oddly shaped walking stick. Or... maybe it wasn't. Either way, I'm glad I got out of there fast. Because I feel like there a real possibility, that had he reached me in time, I might not of made it out alive. I would say its about 50/50.

Quote of the Day

2009-03-09T11:32:00.000-07:00

While waiting in line at Jason's Deli, the two guys in front of me were having a conversation about football. From what I could over hear, I guessed that they were only passive fans and not necessarily well informed about football.

"Looks like T.O. isn't going to be around anymore... I think they asked him to leave."

Well... Technically that's true, they did ask Terrell Owens to leave. But another way of saying it, is he was released. And still another way of saying it, is he was dishonorably discharged.

Reflections

2009-03-06T23:04:00.000-08:00

First I want to take a moment to thank Mel and The Judge for the gift of pictures from their wedding and the frame to go with it. Looking through those pictures caused me to reminisce about their wedding. Though I've seen each of these photos before, this was really the first time I've had the opportunity to sit down and take a good look at them. An assortment of memories swam through my head as I studied each picture. Among those recollections was one I had with a co-worker just before the wedding. I was telling him how excited I was for my friends, and also how excited I was that I was getting to be one groomsmen. He then asked if I was taking my girlfriend to the wedding. "Of course," I said, "she's excited too." He then said, "You better watch out. You take a girl to a wedding and then that's what all her thoughts will turn to. She's going to start thinking about getting married and that's all she'll talk about. You better watch out."

And as I think back on his words of wisdom, I can't help but appreciate the irony.

100th Post!

2009-03-03T20:45:00.000-08:00

On a cool October night back in 2005 I began to jot down a few of my thoughts, and thus, the blog was born. I have used this blog in a variety of ways: for personal reflection, to address social issues, re-tell a personal anecdote, spin a tale of fiction, and cite a quote or conversation which stuck out to me. To commemorate this historic moment of my blog reaching the century mark, I have decided to go back in time and revisit some past favorites. Below is a Top 10 list of my favorite blog post of all time.

The Best of The World According to Kyle Ray

10. How to Be a Good Student (May 11th, 2008) - A recap of my horrendous history final.
9. The Grownup (May 5th 2008) - A drink recipe.
8. Inconspicuously Reach Over and Lock the Door (December 19th, 2008) - You might be a racist if...
7. Conversation of the Day (November 21st, 2005) - "Where did you say you were from?"
6. Aunt Tim (November 17th, 2005) - My mom's aunt is a great aunt.
5. Sad Day (June 2nd, 2008) - I miss Buddy.
4. Having My Cake and Eating it Too (April 15th, 2008) - Sometimes you just have a craving for cake and it doesn't matter what kind you get.
3. Quote of the Day (October 30th, 2005) - Pumpkins and 8 year old's dude.
2. Waiting on the Roof (April 30th, 2008) - An original short story.
1. Projectile Lactation (October 19th, 2005) - The title say all you need to know about this.

Happy reading.

Some Baseball Trivia

2009-02-25T09:27:00.000-08:00

"It's the only Major League Baseball team name whose first 4 letters match the first 4 letters of its city."

This was a Final Jeopardy question, so you may place a wager and the response should be in the form of a question. Also, to be fair, you should only give yourself about 30 seconds to answer.

FAT Tuesday

2009-02-24T13:27:00.000-08:00

Many of you may be asking yourself, "Just what is this 'Mardi Gras' I've been hearing so much about?" Many more of you may not be asking yourself that at all. But regardless I am going to tell you. The words Mardi Gras literally translate as "Fat Tuesday". It is the Tuesday immediately preceding Ash Wednesday which marks the beginning of Lent, a time of fasting in the Christian faith. Since Christians around the world will begin various fastings and purging, the day before is typically a time to enjoy those indulgences one last time before giving them up. Fat Tuesday celebrations may include anything from loading up on an abundance of pancakes, to a drunken sex romp through the streets of as major city. My personal Fat Tuesday fun will fall somewhere between.

Lent, in virtually all regards, is the opposite of Fat Tuesday. Lent is a period in the Christian Faith that is traditionally marked by three central observances. That being prayer, fasting, and almsgiving. Lent is a time of preparation for the coming Resurrection and should be view as an opportunity for self reflection, with the ultimate goal of bettering ones self. The modern tradition of Lent is to give up something that is typically a vice. Many choose to give up sweets, others soft drinks, and some may vow to live without fried food. But edible vices aren't the only ones that can be removed from ones daily diet. Some may opt to give up cursing, while others may make an effort to exercise more, choosing laziness as the vice they will do without. All are valid and noble, and can be accomplished with perseverance and prayer.

Prayer is a fundamental part of Lent. Prayer is a tool that can help keep us away from our much missed and desired vices. But prayer is also a tool which can help us grow closer to God through our fasting. I am thankful for the message that The Judge gave this past Sunday at Awaken about prayer, as well as the prayer journals he passed out. My plan for my journal is to write anytime I feel like I really need to give in and break my fast.

But I think almsgiving is one component of Lent that is often overlooked. One traditional idea is that the money saved by, not drinking sodas for example, could be collected and given to a charity. Unless you switch to more expensive juice during Lent, in which case you would not profit monetarily by not drinking Dr. Pepper. But the spirit of almsgiving, in some fashion should also be present during Lent. If not in monetary form, then perhaps giving time to volunteer can be a great substitute.

This all leads to what I will be giving up for Lent. I've decided to give up more than one thing this year. I have a whole list of vices that I could surely live without and I'm going to choose a few of them to do so this Lenten season. On the one hand, giving up more gives me a better chance of succeeding on at least one, but ideally I can be a healthier person in both mind and body at the end of my 40 days. After much contemplation, here goes the list:

Fried foods
Soft drinks (but only caramel colored ones, so 7-up, Sprite, and Squirt are still okay)
Beer & liquor
and cursing

I decided to put something on the list that comes out of my mouth rather than just going in. I'm not sure yet how difficult it will be to give up cursing, but I plan to use this as my tool for almsgiving. I am going to keep a "swear jar", and anytime I say an illegal word or phrase then I will put a quarter into the jar. Whatever I have collect by Easter will go to a charity to be determined later. My basic rule on deciding what count on cursing and what doesn't is: If I would be uncomfortable saying it in front of the old ladies at church, then it counts. So words that are borderline, such as: sucks, crap, butt, hell or poop - these words are okay. But other words like: fuck, shit, ass, bitch, cock, or damn - these words will cost me a quarter. But I also think, to be fair, I should include certain offensive phrases as illegal. For example, the word "ball" and the word "sucker" are perfectly innocent, but when put together, they'll cost me a quarter. The words anus, and rape aren't all that bad, but the phrase, "rape his anus" is not something I would want the old ladies at church hearing.

I'll need some help in order to actually purge myself of all the vices I've chose this Lent. I plan to pray, but I'll also call on my friends to help me as well. It's possible, even likely, that I will cuss from time to time and not realize I did it. I'm hopeful my friend will call this to my attention and help keep me in line.

And there is another question of what to do on Sundays. Traditionally, Sunday's is a day where it is okay to break the fast. I've contemplated whether or not I want to allow myself to break my fast on these chosen vices. I think that beer will be the easiest for me to give up and I feel like it is the least detrimental, therefore I can allow myself to break my fast on Sunday. But other than that, I plan to do without everything else for the duration of Lent, which I believe is actually 46 days. Today is my last day, before giving up these vices for six weeks and I plan to take advantage in typical Mardi Gras style - do a lot of all of them all at once. I'm drinking a Coke right now, and later I plan to eat some fried chicken, drink some beer, and cuss like an angry sailor.

Happy Fat Tuesday bitches!

Upward Basketball

2009-02-09T08:40:00.000-08:00

Its been a major frustration of mine that ever since Meadowbrook UMC built their Community Life Center (CLC) that the building has gone virtually unused. I know there have been a handful of events, such as the Halloween Carnival and the Church Garage Sale, but these are events that were done before the CLC and could be done without it. There hasn't been much in the way of NEW things being planned for the CLC... but finally, changes have come.

I loved the feeling I got when I walked into the CLC Saturday morning. There was an electricity in the air. The room was full of people, cheering on two simultaneous games kindergartners attempting to play basketball. The kids had no concept of dribbling, or passing, or out of bounds. They only new to take the ball and try and put it in a basket (hopefully their own, but we'll congratulate none the less). I thoroughly enjoyed seeing that many people, from outside of the church, coming in to take advantage of this outreach. It was also really cool to see so many volunteers, who are not affiliated with the church, to be taking part as coaches and referees.

The excitement for me built more and more as it neared time for my game. I'm coaching the oldest age division, 5th &6th graders, and our game was the last of the day. In just two practices I've really come to like the players I have, especially Daylon. We sat in the locker room just before game time. Daylon was sitting in the chair next to me and his face looked stern and focused. It could have been chiseled out of stone for the lack of expression. I tried to crack a couple of jokes and give a few last minute pointers, but nothing would break Daylon's concentration. He had gone "game face", like that of a gladiator and he was ready to face the lions.

Daylon is unique. He is probably the best player in the league and I'm pretty sure he knows it. But he might also be the nicest player in the league as well. He understands the concept of fair play and want everyone on the team to get a chance to contribute. He'll gladly pass to the worst player even if he knows a turnover is inevitable. And he never wants to be labeled as a "ball hog" or "showboat" or anything else like that. So through the first quarter he tried his best to distribute scoring opportunities. But when the first quarter concluded he was less than satisfied with the fact that we were losing. Fair play or not, Daylon doesn't like losing.

The second quarter was very different, Daylon went Kobe all over that game. He turned it on, so to speak. He became ultra aggressive on defense, stealing any time he could, and he flew through the air to secure every rebound. But it was his offense that turned the tide. He showed no hesitation in flying past his defender and made every basket look easy. The third quarter he became even more vicious. It seemed that nothing their team did could possibly stop him. By the end of the third period we had coasted to a comfortable 33-15 lead. I took Daylon aside and told him that the game was already won and to take it easy the rest of the way. It is after all a Christian league and I didn't want to run up the score. I told Daylon to not make anymore easy baskets and to try and pass to his teammates more. He understood and was fine with holding back a little. But Daylon's frustration quickly grew. His teammates were not playing up to par and he had to restrain himself several times to keep from scoring easy, break away baskets. With about 3 minutes left in the game, I could see him getting more and more angry. He turned to me after, yet another turnover and said, "Can I please play normal now?" I laughed and said, "Sure, go for it." He turned it on again and managed to score a couple of more baskets before the game ended.

We won comfortably and everyone had a good time. But I don't think I'll be asking Daylon to "turn it off" again. As coach I need to try and bring his teammates up to speed and allow Daylon to play his game naturally. I'm really optimistic about how our season looks. I know that every child is a winner with Upward, but I still want my team to be win the most.

My Mom's Test

2009-01-15T14:18:00.000-08:00

I have to give my mom credit, she can be fairly creative at times. A bus full of seniors from the YMCA made a trip across the border the help out the local Native American economy(and maybe gamble some too). The Bus ride is two hours and my mom worried about boredom setting on the group. So she did the research and came up with a little quiz to entertain them for part of the trip. Below is that Quiz.

PRODUCT SLOGAN QUIZ - For each slogan identify the product that it sold.

1) A little dab'll do ya. __________

2) __________ is the place for the helpful hardware man.

3) __________ makes hamburgers taste like steakburgers.

4) __________ the San Francisco treat.

5) Aren't you glad you use __________, don't you wish everybody did?

6) __________ take me away.

7) Does she... or doesn't she? __________

8) The breakfast of champions. __________

9) Double your pleasure, double your fun. __________

10) __________, don't leave home without it.

11) Bet'cha can't eat just one. __________

12) Good to the last drop. __________

13) How do you spell relife? __________

14) Finger lickin' good. __________

15) Just do it. __________

16) I'd like to buy the world a __________.

17) I can't believe I ate the whole thing. __________

18) It takes a licking a keeps on ticking. __________

19) Look ma, no cavities! __________

20) Let you fingers do the walking. __________

New Years Eve Camping Trip - As Told Through My Camera

2009-01-02T16:22:00.000-08:00

Looks Like Somebody Found the Mistletoe

2008-12-23T19:04:00.001-08:00

This is what is on top of a house in the TCU area....

Inconspicuously Reach Over and Lock the Door

2008-12-19T13:35:00.000-08:00

As I pulled to a stop at the signal light, a middle aged black man was starting to cross the street in front of me. He had a dirty, grungy, not-quite-homeless look to him. He wasn't quite dressed in rags, but he was clearly lower-income. He didn't look thuggish or gangsta, but he did have a certain ‘ghetto’ quality to his appearance. I inconspicuously reached over and locked the door. I did it casually and non-chalet, after all, I didn't want him to notice my racism. And yes, I fully admit that this was a racist act. As I was locking the door that thought never cross my mind, rather my thinking was more along the lines of precautionary self preservation. But it was certainly racist.

There was a piece of PVC pipe laying in the intersection. About 3" in diameter and approximately two feet long, it lay directly in front of my truck. I could narrowly dodge the pipe if I hugged the curb as I pulled into the intersection, so I wasn't overly concerned with it. As the frightening black man crossed the street in front of me, he noticed the pipe. He looked down and the pipe and then up at me. He held his index finger up, indicating that I should wait a moment. He then readjusted his backpack and lean down to pick up the pipe. Pipe in hand, he continued on his path across the street. My first thought was he was homeless/poor and this piece of discarded pipe must have some value or purpose for him. But as he reached the sidewalk on the other side he tossed the pipe in the grass.

The, slightly-less-scary, black man was simply moving the pipe out of the road. He had no interest in the pipe, other than it lay in my way, nor did he have any interest in robbing me at gun point. In fact, the whole idea that I needed to lock the door for security from the man on foot is ludicrous. The truth of the matter is, I’m an asshole and got called on it. Rabbi Steven Leder once said, “If we look deep inside ourselves, way down deep, each of us will find a person who has, just a little bit of racism. But the thing is, if we look even deeper, while find a person who know it’s wrong. And therein, lays hope for change.” This was a perfect example of that small amount of racism that I have deep inside myself. It’s not like I would eve shout a racial slur, nor would I consciously treat him different based on ethnicity, but it is clear now, that I am not as completely non-discriminatory as I thought.

As the, not-so-scary-after-all, black man continued on his route down the sidewalk, we made eye contact. I waved and mouthed the word, “Thanks.” But I felt like I should have been mouthing an apology. However, as I look back on that now, “Thanks” was exactly the right response. Not only should I thank him for moving the pipe, but I should be thanking him for pointing out a flaw a desperately needed to see.

Happy Life Day

2008-12-13T13:36:00.000-08:00

Apparently this actually happened. In 1978 there was a "made for TV movie" called The Star Wars Holiday special.

If you made it further than 1:48 in to that clip then you did better than me. Here is the summary for this fantastic holiday classic according to www.imdb.com:

It is Lifeday, a holiday that is celebrated on Chewbacca's home planet Kashyyyk. Chewie and Han Solo are trying to get to the planet where Chewie's family is waiting for him, but the empire is out searching for the rebels, giving everyone a hard time. While we are waiting we get a look at the everyday life of a wookie family. We meet all the familiar characters from Star Wars and we are introduced to Bobba Fett during a small cartoon. We also pay a visit to the Cantina and meet all the monsters again.

George Lucas once said, "If I had the time I would find every known copy of that and smash them with a sledge hammer."

Jon Stewart is Much More Than Just a Comedian...

2008-12-10T17:30:00.000-08:00

Watch this video with Jon Stewart debating the merits of gay marriage with Mike Huckabee. I'm a big fan of Huckabee. I like his personality and I believe he is genuine and honest, however, I often disagree with his political views. Gay marriage is definitely one of those issue. In this brief debate Jon Stewart amply says a lot of the things I have thought for a while but haven't been able to articulate. It's moments like this that make me believe Stewart could some day be a creditable candidate for political office someday.

Chic-Fil-A: The Miracle Drug

2008-11-15T07:13:00.000-08:00

I am coming off one of the worst weeks ever. It has really been a series of unfortunate events all week long. So Here's a bullet point list of my week....

Sunday night - I began to get sick.
Monday - I didn't work, which sucks because I need money.
Monday night - Patrick beat me in ping pong. I know that trivial, but I still don't like to lose.
Tuesday - I am continuing to get sicker, but I am determined to beat this with over-the-counter stuff and plenty of fluids.
Tuesday night - Job interview. I deliver a less that stellar performance.
Wednesday - I'm not getting any better and the fluids are just making me have to pee a lot.
Wednesday afternoon - No word yet about whether or not I got the job. I shouldn't take more than a day to hear back unless they are still interviewing more candidates.
Thursday - I begin to realize how far behind I am in the semester and it's a little depressing.
Thursday night - I find out that I did not get the job. But I found out via facebook. I never got a call back or anything. That's kinda douchy and a poor display of business ethics.
Friday morning - I feel the sickest I have all week long. I am suppose to be going to a movie with Amy tonight but I am really considering canceling because I feel so horrible. And obviously I really don't want to cancel.
Friday morning - I go to the doctor and she says she thinks I just have a plain old cold, which would be viral, which means antibiotics wouldn't help. I respectfully disagree and suggest she prescribe a Z-pac.
Friday morning - The Z-pac, in combination with some recommended over-the-counter drugs have done nothing but make my stomach hurt.
Friday morning - I decide to fight through it, do some homework and prep a new resume to send out... and then my computer stops working. That's nice, perfect way to end a crappy week.
Friday afternoon - I take my laptop in to Circuit City. It's no longer under their warranty but it is still under the manufacturer's warranty. They tell me I'll have to send it in to Hewlett Packard for servicing. I say, "well can't you send it in for me?" No. Circuit City doesn't do that. I know for a fact that Best Buy will do that as a free service to their customers. Why? Because Best Buy likes customers. No wonder those Circuit City bitches filled for bankruptcy.
Friday afternoon - I'm feeling depressed and sick as ever. I'm going to go ahead and call Amy and cancel for tonight and then go home and wallow in my own misery and self pity. My stomach is growling but I have no appetite and thus, no interest in eating. But I decide that getting a little something to eat might help my energy level and make me feel a little better. Since Chic-fil-a is in the same parking lot as those Circuit City bitches, I decide to hit that up.
Friday afternoon - Chic-fil-a sandwich (no pickle), side of waffle fries and a Dr. Pepper... I am instantly feeling 100% better. No joke. I feel great actually. My nose is still runny, I'm still coughing a little, but I feel way better. I have energy. My joints don't ache. My severe headache has disappeared. Why was I messing around with Claritin, musinex, advil, cough syrup and Z-pacs? All I needed was a little chic-fil-a[1].
Friday afternoon - Starting to feel everything's gonna be alright. My comupter has even started working properly again. No wait, it was just giving me false hope. I'm still going to have to send it in.
Friday late afternoon - I get an email telling me that I did not get the job.... thanks.

1. Or the comination of 5 different drugs I was taking had just started to kick in.

Jesus is a Friend of Mine

2008-11-09T22:03:00.000-08:00

In case you didn't catch it[1], the lyrics in the middle of the song go something like this....

"Once I tried to run, I tried to run and hide,
But Jesus came and found me and he touched me down inside,
He is like a Mountie, he always gets his man,
And he'll zap you any way he can. ZAP."

1. Or if you couldn't take more than ten seconds of the song.

Playing by the Rules

2008-11-04T09:18:00.000-08:00

According to the official rules of the USATT which are also valid under the ITTF...........

2.6 The Service
2.6.1 Service shall start with the ball resting freely on the open palm of the server's stationary free hand.
2.6.2 The server shall then project the ball near vertically upwards, without imparting spin, so that it rises at least 16cm after leaving the palm of the free hand and then falls without touching anything before being struck.
2.6.3 As the ball is falling the server shall strike it so that it touches first his court and then, after passing over or around the net assembly, touches directly the receiver's court; in doubles, the ball shall touch successively the right half court of server and receiver.
2.6.4 From the start of service until it is struck, the ball shall be above the level of the playing surface and behind the server's end line, and it shall not be hidden from the receiver by the server or his doubles partner and by anything they wear or carry.

2.7 The Return
2.7.1 The ball, having been served or returned, shall be struck so that it passes over or around the net assembly and touches the opponent's court, either directly or after touching the net assembly.

2.10 A Point
2.10.1 Unless the rally is a let, a player shall score a point
2.10.1.1 if his opponent fails to make a correct service;
2.10.1.2 if his opponent fails to make a correct return;
2.10.1.3 if, after he has made a service or a return, the ball touches anything other than the net assembly before being struck by his opponent;
2.10.1.4 if the ball passes over his court or beyond his end line without touching his court, after being struck by his opponent;
2.10.1.5 if his opponent obstructs the ball;
2.10.1.6 if his opponent strikes the ball twice successively;
2.10.1.7 if his opponent strikes the ball with a side of the racket blade whose surface does not comply with the requirements of 2.4.3, 2.4.4 and 2.4.5;
2.10.1.8 if his opponent, or anything his opponent wears or carries, moves the playing surface;
2.10.1.9 if his opponent, or anything his opponent wears or carries, touches the net assembly;
2.10.1.10 if his opponent's free hand touches the playing surface;

2.11 A Game
2.11.1 A game shall be won by the player or pair first scoring 11 points unless both players or pairs score 10 points, when the game shall be won by the first player or pair subsequently gaining a lead of 2 points.

Ranking the Coen Brothers

2008-10-28T12:36:00.001-07:00

Joel and Ethan Coen have worked together to make 14 feature films. This blog to apply a ranking for those 14 films comes from The Judge's comment that their most recent, Burn After Reading, was their best work ever. I will also categorize them according to their quality and add a tag line for each. And without further ado, here we go....

THE VERY BEST
1. The Big Lebowski (1998)- Not a man, a way of life[1].
2. O' Brother Where Art Thou (2000)- Sometimes, you have to lose your way to get back home.

GREATNESS
3. No Country for Old Men (2007)- You can't stop what's coming.
4. Burn After Reading (2008)- Intelligence is relative.
5. Raising Arizona (1987)- Their lawless years are behind them. Their child-rearing years lay ahead...

REALLY GOOD
6. Fargo (1996)- A lot can happen in the middle of nowhere.
7. Miller's Crossing (1990)- Up is down, black is white, and nothing is what it seems.
8. The Hudsucker Proxy (1994)- They took him for a fall guy... but he threw them for a hoop.

AVERAGE
9. Intolerable Cruelty (2003)- Engage the enemy.

FAIRLY BOORING
10. The Man Who Wasn't There (2001)- The last thing on his mind is murder.
11. Barton Fink (1991)- Between Heaven and Hell There's Always Hollywood!

HAVE NOT YET SEEN
Crimewave[2] (1985)- Extermination is not just a business. It's a way of life.
Blood Simple (1984)- Dead in the heart of Texas.
The Lady Killers (2004)- The greatest criminal minds of all time have finally met their match.

1. This was the tag line for its release in Israel.
2. Crimewave was written by both Coen brothers but was directed by Sam Raimi.

"A Truck Full of Mexicans"

2008-10-16T17:17:00.000-07:00

My mom got her car back today from the body shop. Before she went to pick it up she called out insurance agent to verify how much of a deposit she would have to pay, if any. We have a $500 deposit, but if we are hit by an uninsured motorist the deposit is only $250. However, according to our insurance agent, "there's a clause that kicks in when you get hit by a truck full of Mexicans."

What he meant to say is our insurance has a special policy if we are hit by someone who isn't a legal resident then we will get reimbursed for the deposit. The nationality of the driver[1], the vehicle[2], or the number of illegal residents in the vehicle[3], are actually irrelevant.

1. Mexican
2. Truck
3. Full of 'em

Vicious Battle Raps

2008-10-13T12:38:00.000-07:00

Vibe Magazine held a contest for Best Rapper Alive and they gave the award to Eminem. I was unaware of the contest and thus, did not vote[1]. But had I voted then this is who I would have voted for.

1. Because I don't read stupid things like Vibe Magazine.

And this is an after thought, but some things are just too good not to post on your blog. Enjoy.

Since When Did the Pigeons Stop Giving a Shit?

2008-10-11T07:12:00.000-07:00

A couple of days ago I went to Sam's Club to buy some groceries in bulk. I was fortunate enough to find a pretty close parking spot. But as I started to pull in a noticed a pigeon just sitting there in the middle of the parking space. Being the humane person I am, I didn't want to hurt the pigeon, so I pulled forward slowly assuming I would see the pigeon fly off any second. As I continue to pull forward, the sight of the pigeon now obscured by the front of my truck, I decided I had better angle to make sure I straddle the pigeon just in case he didn't fly away. I got out of the truck and looked underneath. The pigeon was still sitting there with my tire right next to it. My first thought was the pigeon must be dead, but oddly sitting in that normal way pigeons sit. But then, he rotated his head and looked at me. Obviously this freaked me out, so I jumped up and hurriedly entered the store. When I came back out I did not check to see if the pigeon was still there. but I backed out in such a way to avoid hitting the thing if it was still there. The pigeon was gone but the whole way home I had that creepy feeling that an ax murder[1] was hiding in my back seat, and I don't even have a back seat.

On an unrelated note, as I left for work at about 4:00am this morning, I opened my door to discover someone urinating in the parking lot just outside my apartment. Since when did people stop giving a shit?

1. Or ax murdering pigeon, as the case may be.

"She just proves that anybody can be Vice President"

2008-10-06T14:07:00.000-07:00

The quote in the title, which clearly is referring to Sarah Palin, comes to me via The Judge, though I believe it was actually Mel who heard the quote first hand.

Sarah Palin's popularity gives me a grave concern. I know of at least two people who are going to vote for John McCain because Sarah Palin is a woman[1]. Never mind the fact that the VP hardly has any real power and therefore shouldn't hold much influence over a person's vote. The greater problem here is the blind ignorance of the voting populace. Even if Palin strongly supported every single women's rights issue (which she doesn't) that still shouldn't be enough to vote for a party which consistently does not support most women's rights issues.

However, I shouldn't make it seem as if only women voters have a tendency to bias ignorance. Obama is young and black, thus he will get votes from the young and black because he must, obviously support what they care about. But is that really true? Does Obama support the issues that are important to young people and black people? We don't know unless we ask. And I don't mean to ask the politician directly, but rather to take a look at his stance on the issues as well as his parties stance. As voters we have to realize we are never voting for just one man, but rather we are voting for a ideology.

It isn't necessary to study every move of a politician or spend hours researching their parties platform. But it is necessary to seek some information beyond just their appearance. And it is also necessary to put forth some element of logical thought[2] and (to at least try) to remain open minded as the election day nears.

But, I am too realistic (pessimistic) to every believe voters will do this. So all I can really do is pray that God will but in the right man in power[3].

1. It's this type of thought that make me think the movie Idiocracy may be more clairvoyant than we give it credit for.
2. By "logical thought", I mean not believing crap like this[4].
3. But God has let us down before.
4. Which can be disproven here[5].
5. Hyperlinks are fun!

Quote of the Day

2008-09-29T10:24:00.000-07:00

"A little mango smoothie my handsome friend?"

context not necessary

It's about time...

2008-09-27T20:22:00.000-07:00

they named a hurricane after me. Hurricane Kyle has formed in the Northern Atlantic Ocean and it looks like it may hit Nova Scotia. That sounds about right. If I were actually a hurricane I would want to attack Canada... or maybe Oklahoma[1].

1. It's like Canada for Texans.

Going on the 15 day DL

2008-09-26T10:46:00.000-07:00

I'm definitely going to be out for a couple of weeks. I was just a simple dive for a grounder, I wouldn't expect this as the result. I hit the ground pretty hard, and apparently a little awkward too. When I got up, my shoulder felt a little stiff right away but it wasn't until after the game that a small amount of pain started to set in. And when I woke up this morning I couldn't move my left shoulder in any direction without extreme pain. So I called in to work and went to the doctor this morning.

The doctor said that I likely rip this lining that is in the shoulder joint. The lining helps the joint rotate with ease (kind of like grease on a ball bearing), and with is ripped there is now this grinding occurring. I'll give you a moment to image two bones grinding together. That's the pain I'm going through. The doc said this kind of thing heals on its own about 50% of the time. If I'm not feeling better in a couple of weeks I may need to go see a specialist and have to consider surgery. And of course, it would be season ending surgery... so that sucks even more.

Three Grand

2008-09-20T10:26:00.000-07:00

My church council approved funds of $3000 to remodel our youth room. That's really exciting! It's also unprecedented. My budget for the youth for the entire year is $150[1], and we struggle every year to raise enough money for mission trip. Even though $3000 isn't that much to make over our youth room with, it's still pretty amazing considering how little money we usually have to work with.

We actually have two rooms. Both are the size of a normal class room. One of them we call the Youth Room and that is where we do Sunday School and meet on Wednesday evenings. The other is referred to as the "Recreation Room", and is currently occupied by a worn out pool table an uncomfortable couch and an ugly, lime green book shelf[2]. My thought, which is shared by everyone, is to get rid of everything in both rooms and start fresh.

But what do we do? Painting is an obvious answer, but I don't see us using up the $3000 in just paint. What else? Since the money is coming out of our some memorial funds, where I know there is more money to spare, I think I can negotiate up to another $1000[3]. So, I'm open to suggestions. If it were your youth room, how would you spend the money[4]?

1. Ridiculous.
2. This room sucks!
3. Wishful thinking.
4. 52" plasma and a blue ray player?

A Fun New Game for the Pool

2008-08-22T06:46:00.001-07:00

As many of you may know, my sister, Denise, plays golf with the Special Olympics. No, she is not very good. In fact she's pretty lousy[1], but she has a lot of fun playing and isn't that what it's all about[2]? Yesterday she had golf practice and her partner had something come up at the last minute. Fortunatly I was free and able to fill in. However, Denise doesn't really like playing with me very much because she says I'm too serious when we play. She is probably right. Regardless, we joined up with another pair and set out at Meadowbrook Golf Course to play a round of nine.

If you've play Meadowbrook before then you are well aware of the 8th hole. It's a truely unique hole. About 220 yards off the tee you'll encounter a 90 degree dog-leg to the right. You'll then have to hit the ball anoth 150 yards up a very steep hill. The difficulty of this hole is rediculous. I drive an excellent tee shot here. The hit was a little off line from what I intended but the ball carries quite well off of a tree and I end up in a pretty good spot to try and hit up the hill. As our group is rounding the dog leg we here some noises coming from one of the houses that border the golf course. It's sounds like kids playing, possibly swimming. The trees are thick and we can't really see through, but the kids are loud and easily heard. It's sounds at first like they are playing the classic game of Marco Polo. But then we realize Marco Polo isn't the name they're chanting. We listen for a second and then we realize what they are saying... Barack Obama. They weren't playing Marco Polo at all they were playing Barack Obama[3].

I found it a little hard to concentrate after that, mainly from the laughing. Not that it would have mattered, Denise and I were getting beaten badly by the other pair playing with us. But that's okay, we had fun, and that what it's really all about[4].

1. But aren't we all.
2. Actually that's not what its about. The inventors of the sport never intended for it to be fun or enjoyable.
3. I wonder what you call instead of "fish out of water"?
4. see number [2].

Money to burn

2008-07-06T11:10:00.000-07:00

I finally got my economic stimulus check in the mail and now I have $300 that I need to pump back in to the economy immediatly. But I'm torn on the best way to spend my free money. Thus I've created a new poll so that others can tell me how to spend it.

One Time Use Only

2008-06-30T05:52:00.000-07:00

The idea for this came from a book I have on writing. The idea is you take some instructions off a commonly used item and you make that the title for your story. And then you write.

One Time Use Only

"One time use only," I read to myself off the back of a disposable camera. We live in a disposable society. Everything gets thrown away. Nothing is kept. This camera sits on top of a table donning a paper table cloth. I eat hors d'oeuvres off of a paper plate using a plastic fork. I dab my mouth with a paper napkin. I drink punch from a plastic cup. I can't help but wonder if the newly exchanged wedding vows are disposable too. Of course, the flowers are real but they too will become refuse once this day is done. Don't misunderstand me, I'm not supporting the use of fake flowers, rather I'm just pointing out that our lives are one disposable item after another. And don't think I am advocating change, God knows I adhere to a disposable diet as much as anyone.

I spot a tall brunette across the room. Her face is familiar, perhaps a second cousin, but why should that matter. She wore a spaghetti-strap green dress that hugged her tight around the curves. She had warm eyes and an inviting smile. I take my time because art requires patience. I try to position myself nearby, pretending to listen to some old hag go on and on about arthroscopic surgery, so I am able to overhear her order a drink.

"Cosmopolitan." she said delicately.

I mingled around, talking to this uncle or that. One wants some stock advice; I tell him I'm a doctor not a banker. Another has a question about a tight joint, "Sorry my friend. I'm a banker, not a doctor."

Timing is everything. She sips the last of her beverage. Her glance towards the bar tells me that another drink would make her current conversation more bearable. Then I show up like a knight in shining armor.

"Cosmopolitan?" I take her empty cup and replace it with the metaphorical equivalent of love potion.

"Yes, thank you." She gives me an inquisitive 'how-did-you-know' smile. "And what's that you're drinking?"

"A dirty martini." My wink causes her to giggle and blush. She’s completely flattered and caught off guard. It's a matter of minutes before we are outside in the back seat of my car.

She asks if I am coming back inside, but I'm not. She asks for my number and I pull a napkin out of my pocket. I jot down a string of numbers and I wonder whose phone it actually belongs to. A few years ago I would have felt bad about this sort of thing, but a person can become desensitized to anything if they try hard enough. I'm sure she'll feel sorry for herself in a few days. She'll probably feel like a piece of trash tossed aside, or a cigarette butt thrown out the car window. But she'll get over it. She may be more guarded around men as a result, but that doesn't concern me. She's just another 'one-time-use' girlfriend for me.

Since I'm already dressed up, and the night is still young, I decide to head to McFadden's Pub. I always have a billiard table there on reserve and it’s a nice place to unwind. The waitress flirted as she brought me a drink, but I'm not interested. My focus now is on the table. Billiards is, one of many talents that I pride myself on. My concentration is intruded upon by a tall, curvy blond. Waves of blond hair flowed over her shoulders and framed her face, which was highlighted by bright red lips. She wore a black halter-top dress with a built-in push-up bra. The bra had a big job to do. The dress stopped mid thigh, and her legs seemed to run on indefinitely. Our eyes meet, and in a moment I was seduced.

If I had tried to play my usual games I would have failed. I was too taken aback and keeping my focus would have proved impossible. But to my surprise she pursued me. Before I could offer to buy her a drink, she was there at my table, two martinis in hand. She had no intention of obscuring her motives. And within an hour she had me back at her place.

Once in her apartment, she offered to fix us both a drink. I was already pretty intoxicated, but I'm not one to turn down a beautiful woman. We sat on the couch for a few minutes, she asked what kind of work I was in. "Real estate," I told her. She seemed uninterested. She quickly finished her drink and motioned with her eyes that I should do the same. She took my hand and led me to the bedroom. My vision blurred a little as I got up. I stumbled behind her slightly. "What was in that last drink?" I said with a smile.

Handcuffs closed tightly around my wrist. "This girl is kinky, I like that." I said to myself. Then I was flipped over onto my stomach and my other wrist cuffed. I noticed it was morning already but it wasn't until I was thrown on the floor that I realized what was happening. Two gorilla-sized cops were wrestling me around. They had me handcuffed and pressed hard against the floor. I thought they were about to search me, then I realized I wasn't wearing any clothes. They picked me up and began to drag me out.

"Fucking pervert." Said gorilla-cop number one.

"Wait, let me at least put some clothes on first."

"What clothes? You don't have any, you fucking crack head." Said gorilla-cop number two as they dragged me past a sobbing elderly woman and out of the apartment.

It's possible I may have been drunk enough, that I wouldn't have noticed when she picked the lock to the apartment. And it's possible that I may have been horny enough not to notice that she slipped something into my drink. And so it's definitely possible I could have passed out while she took off with my clothes, my car, and my wallet full of cash. And it's also possible that I may have said "This girl is kinky," out loud when the gorilla-police brigade was cuffing me. But there’s no way I ever used a girl the way I got used by her.

Danny Downer

2008-06-27T07:14:00.000-07:00

Now imagine a male version of Debbie Downer and then put him on your work team on mission trip. That's what I had. There were a number of instances were he would walk into a conversation and then say something to completely bring it down, but one in particular comes to mind. A group us of were sitting taking a break from the work and because the neighbor had a dog and two cats we got on the subject of pets. Each person was sharing stories of their pets and the cute things they do or the neat tricks they've taught them. I even got in on it, mentioning Mike the Cat's crooked tail. And then Danny Downer says in his nasally monotone voice, "Yeah, my dog is having surgery today. He has colon cancer. He's only six years old."

Complete silence...

How to Hijack a Worship Service

2008-06-22T16:27:00.000-07:00

This is the third straight mission trip where worship was really lacking and needed to be fixed. And I have no problem hijacking a worship if needed. Going into the trip I was a little concerned because I was pretty certain that no one who was coming on the trip would be capable of leading worship. But I wasn't too worried because I was pretty sure that our host church had a praise band and it seemed reasonable that, on at least one or two nights, it could be arranged to have them play. My worst fears were confirmed on Sunday night worship when the CD started up and we began singing to a live version of a David Crowder song. Nothing against Crowder or his live versions, but "canned music" no way to conduct a worship. Not only was the lack of live music hindering the worship experience but the mood was completely wrong as well. Each night the atmosphere in the sanctuary was one of hyperness and mild chaos. Part of this was the fact that the kids came straight from their evening activity to worship, but a larger part was there was nothing being done to "create a mood". Through the first three nights of the trip, worship severely lacked any spiritual impact.

I mentioned to the program coordinator at the beginning of the week that I was willing to speak one night at worship if needed. She jumped at the chance as if having other people speak hadn't yet crossed her mind, and asked I would speak on Wednesday night. After worship on Monday[1], the center director and I had a discussion about how the trip was going so far and among my list of complaints/suggestions was worship. She agreed that worship was bad and needed a lot to turn it around. After yet another disappointing worship on Tuesday, she pulled me aside and asked what I could do to "save" worship. I was already on the case because I refuse to attach myself to something that is half-assed. If I'm going to speak on Wednesday night, I'm going to make sure the whole thing is good.

We needed a band. There was no way around it. I could dim the lights, add candles, speak softer, but nothing would be enough if I couldn't get a band. Getting someone to play would normally be an easy task. I know plenty of people who can play and could lead worship, the problem was every single one of them was on mission trip already. I did no one other guy. I wasn't sure how good he was since he primarily plays base, but I knew that he knew the songs. I made the call. I explained the situation to Nick, offered to buy him a tank of gas, and without a second thought Nick agreed to play. Not only that but he decided it was best to bring along his friend Barry to handle the guitar. They arrived in Canton about 8:30pm and things were underway. I tried to keep the program director in the loop at first, but as it got closer to show time I gradually made more and more executive decisions and changes without worrying about informing her.

As the kids entered the sanctuary Wednesday evening to the sound of Nick's soft piano playing[2] and lighting so dim you could barely see to write, there was an adult stationed at the door informing them to just sit on the floor between the first pew and the alter and to maintain an attitude of worship. Kids quietly filed in and all easy fit in the limited floor space. For the first time that week, no one spoke above a whisper and no one needed to be remained to take of their hat. They all sat quietly filling out their journals. Once it was time, Nick stopped playing the piano and him and Barry took their seats directly in front of the kids. We did two songs and then broke them off into "team time" to allow a debriefing of the week thus far. Team time turned fairly emotional for several which may be a direct result of the mood already created. After team time, two youth wanted to say a brief something about their client and offer up a prayer. Nick and Barry played one more song before Leslie read scripture and I gave the message.

The setting was very, very casual and intimate. This must have played on me as well because my message came off in a very causal, conversational way. I usually strive to deliver in a conversational way, but this was far more casual than I had ever been before. I was actually pretty under-prepared to speak because I was more focused on the other details of worship. But I ended up giving one of my longer sermons and I never felt like I began to ramble or repeat myself. It was very fluid and natural and I'm still a little amazed at how the whole night came out.

For me, worship that night was the most meaningful part of the trip. We needed a turn around and we needed it then. I certainly couldn't have engineered such a 360 on my own and I feel like God must have dabbled a little bit to help us out. It was amazing to watch things come together the way they did in such a short time frame. And of course a special thanks must go out to Nick and Barry who did us a huge favor[3].

1. It should be pointed out that the poor worship was of no fault of the speakers. It was the music and atmosphere that was the problem.
2. Which was pure improv. We made the decision to do this about two minutes before show time. Nick is pretty bad ass on the piano.
3. Barry got off work at 6:00pm and Nick had to go into work at 6:30am. Saginaw is about two hours from Canton. They willing sacrificed a good amount of sleep just to do me a solid.

Ooo that smell, don't cha smell that smell?

2008-06-04T18:27:00.000-07:00

The trailers we load at FedEx can get pretty hot. In the heat of the day, in direct sunlight a closed trailer with no air circulation can get up to 150 degrees. Now imagine if, lets say a rat managed to get in to one of those trailers before it closed and died. And let’s say that trailer sat for three days over the weekend with the dead rat marinating in the hot, uncirculated summer air. And let’s say you were the one who open that trailer Tuesday morning at the Fort Worth hub. Can you imagine what that would smell like? Well I don't have to imagine.

I wasn't the one who opened the trailer but my area is close enough to the unload for the smell to easily and quickly drift over. I've never smelled anything like that. I can't really think of an adjective that adequately describes that scent. I feel most sorry for the guy who had to unload it (the packages still have to get delivered). But the odd thing was, when the trailer was finished unloading, no animal was to be found. We expect to find something, a rat or a squirrel... but there was nothing. But as the smell reached to the far corners of the building we began to become suspicious. One manager after another got on the radio to complain about the foul odors infiltrating their senses. As it turns out, a rat must have managed to get in to the trailer and made its way through the cardboard into a case of chocolate. It then must have proceeded to eat it's self to death (if it's bad for dogs then it stands to reason it would be harmful to rats as well). But then, since the rat was in a box and obscured from normal view, the package got unloaded and put into the system. The intricate system of conveyor belts transported the rat across the building and back again, launching an aromatic onslaught in every work area in its path. The animal was finally located and disposed of but not before every one's lungs had been contaminated by the pure stench of death.

The Obaminator

2008-06-03T17:05:00.001-07:00

I had trouble deciding on a title for this post, I almost went with "Once You Go Barack You Never Go Back."

It looks like Barack Obama as pretty much sealed up the nomination and I am pretty excited about it. Don't get the wrong idea, I'm not actually giving away my political ideology[1], but rather I am excited about what this means for the civil rights movement. These primaries saw three first, first time a black and a woman have had a legitimate chance at the presidency and the oldest presidential nominee ever in McCain. But most exciting is Barack and the potential he brings. Barack resembles a third party candidate in many ways. Such as the way he is bringing some previously lower-key issues to the fore front, which is the only meaning purpose a third party has in our election system. However, the difference is Barack has a very real chance of winning the presidency. It will be very interesting to see the way this plays out and this election will no doubt result voting numbers like this country hasn't seen in many, many years[2]. I'm also interested to see who Obama gets as his VP candidate. I don't think it will be Hilary. I think John Edwards would be a good choice however.

I think I may start paying more attention now and write a political post on a semi-regular basis[3].

1. Flaming liberal
2. My mom is even going to vote and this will be the first time she's voted for president.
3. Honestly I wrote this post just so I could use the line, "Once You Go Barack You Never Go Back." I think that would make a fun t-shirt or bumper sticker logo. Or maybe a button!

Something to Lighten the Mood

2008-06-02T10:50:00.000-07:00

Sad Day

2008-06-02T08:50:00.000-07:00

Don't read this post. There's no jokes and nothing here is going to brighten your day, so just skip it all together.

About a year ago we noticed a small lump at the base of my dogs jaw bone, underneath his ear. The lump was gradually getting bigger. Finally we took Buddy in to see out family vet, Gordon[1]. Gordon ran some test, sent some stuff off to the lab and confirmed that it was in fact cancer. We scheduled a surgery to try and have the lump removed. We knew going in that there was no guarantee he could get all of the cancer, and likewise he wasn't sure how far it had spread into the rest of his body. Despite the racquetball sized lump on the side of his head, Buddy never showed any ill-effects. He seemed completely normal and healthy. This fact gave us hope that the cancer hadn't really spared and the surgery would be a success.

The surgery went fine but for a couple of weeks Buddy was a mess. He had stitches and this tube running through the womb to drain blood and puss and he had to wear one of those collars, not to mention he was in quite a bit of pain. He was completely miserable, where as before the surgery he felt fine. But once he healed up, everything was fine.

But then a couple of months ago we found the lump again. It was starting to grow back. About 1 month ago we noticed Buddy was starting to slow down some. He was getting tired easier and had trouble jumping on the furniture. A couple of weeks ago he began to emit a soft whimper as if he was really uncomfortable all the time. About 1 week ago we started Buddy on some pain pills and just like that we had our dog back. He was running and jumping and chasing squires. But about Friday we noticed the pain pills having a lessened effect and his back legs were starting to become difficult to use. By Sunday his rear legs were completely useless. He would scuttle around using his front paws only and his back hips would shift rapidly from side to side. He looked like a screwed up penguin[2]. We also haven't been able to get him to eat anything aside from some bacon[3] yesterday morning.

We talked and decided that we need to go ahead and have him put down today. When I woke up this morning he tried to scuttle to me but only made it a few feet before he gave up and waited for me to come to him. I sat down on the floor and petted him for a few minutes. I looked into his eyes and wondered if he knows anything is up. I wonder what he has thought was happening to him through all of this. I wonder how Mike the Cat is going to get lonely now. I'm sure my mom will be more lonely with only the cat around to cuddle with[4].

We tried to feed him but we haven't been able to get him to eat anything the last couple of days but some bacon[4]. We've also gradually tripled his dosage on pain pills but a whimper still persist. We are getting ready to leave in a few minutes to take Buddy in. We're all a little sad; Buddy was a really good dog... but now he just smells.

1. We have a family vet but not a family doctor. Shows you where are priorities are.

2. This would have been hilarious to watch if it wasn't so sad.

3. Mike may be my favorite pet ever, but he can really be a butthole sometimes. I think he does stuff just to see if he can get a reaction.

4. He's dying, he's not stupid.

an excerpt from The Memoirs of Stanley Cooke

2008-05-29T18:02:00.000-07:00

This is my selected writing for this month. But first here's a bit of background information. I wrote a narrative poem several years back, and though I don't want to go in to detail about the poem, I will say that I used the poem for the basis to a story. I as began writing the story I realized that it would end up being quite long. So rather than post the entire story (which is good because it's not finished yet) I pick just an excerpt to post. The basic premise of the story, and there for this selection, is it's an old man reminiscing about various things in his past.

excerpt from The Memoirs[1] of Stanley Cooke

My brothers and I waited in line for over an hour. When we finally did get up there we were given only a handful of seconds to spit out what we wanted for Christmas. Many wouldn’t make it. The elves, who at times acted like Santa’s jolly guards, would scoop us up quickly and send us down the steps returning us to our parents if we hesitated too long on what we wanted. Troy was the youngest and, per our parent’s instructions, we were to let him go first. But as is the case with many first timers, he started crying before he even made it to Santa’s lap. Jesse and I were going to make fun of him later but the truth is, the same thing also happened to both of us on our first time. At least Troy didn’t pee his pants like I did three years ago. When Jesse got up there he, for some reason, went numb and just stared blankly at Santa. After a few seconds he too was escorted by one of the elves in the direction of our waiting parents. I was a little worried of a similar fate for myself so I prepared ahead of time. As I was placed onto Santa’s lap I pulled a wrinkled piece of paper out of my pocket and began reciting the notes I had prepared. I described in great detail the fighter jet replica I wanted, which came with a cock pit hatch that opened up and pilot that could be removed. It also had an optional parachute you could attach to the pilot which made for a completely separate toy on its own.

I could tell Santa was pleased with my preparedness and when I got back to my parents I was beaming. Disappointment adorned the faces of both of my brothers and their misfortunes pleased me that much more. “It’s okay” I told them, “you can always send Santa a letter, the mail still runs on Christmas Eve.” Ha ha! This was an argument of consolation that my mother had used on me previously. Though I was young, I was old enough to have lost some faith in our postal system. I knew there was no way they could get a letter all the way to the North Pole in just one day. My mom tried to tell us that they used military planes to make sure they got there in time but even at my young age I was skeptical. I continued to give my condolences to my bothers as we made our way to the exit and the irony of my words consumed me with joy.

With our goal accomplished for the evening we made our way through the crowds toward the parking lot. We always parked near the entrance that leads to the toy section. The idea was we could take one last look at things before we went to Santa to tell him what we wanted. In reality it was so they could see what we wanted and then they would go back and purchase those items while we waited in line for an hour to see a fictional character. It was really a pretty ingenious setup. When leaving the store we always made the longer walk to leave through the exit near men’s suits. My parents didn’t want to take us back through the toy section because there would inevitably be something we missed the first time that we really wanted more. I’ll give my parents credit, they had developed a good system. However, this year, Montgomery Ward was really pushing their new line of bicycles and had built a display in the middle of the men’s suit section. My family was out the door and half way to the car before they realized I wasn’t with them. They clamored back in calling my name and found me in a trance, practically drooling over the Schwinn ‘Victory 400’ bicycle. “I need it.” I said faintly. Dad grabbed my arm and jerked me toward the door and at that exact moment I conjured, from somewhere deep inside, some sort of super human strength. I jerked back with all my might and, catching dad off guard, I nearly pulled him to the floor. “I got to go back,” I shouted, “I got to go see Santa. He’s gonna bring the wrong thing!”

I put up an enormous fight, but it was all in vain. My parents wouldn’t budge on their position. Dad was instantly furious, “You had your chance, you’ll just have to wait until next year.” My mom tried to be more consoling, “You can always try and mail him a letter. The mail still runs on Christmas Eve you know.” I got home and immediately wrote out a letter. I explained to Santa how I had made a mistake at the department store and the bicycle was what I really wanted. When we said our bed time prayers that night the only thing I prayed for was the planes and pilots taking our letters to Santa. My mom had to remind me to pray for our family and Aunt Martha who was driving to see us after Christmas and all the other meaningless dribble we were suppose to pray for. That night I had a dream that I was piloting one of the army planes flying letters to the North Pole. The Germans were firing at us from below and all of my men were scared. “Be brave men, there’s no turning back now. These letters have got to get to Santa,” I said in a commanding voice.

We got a fresh snow on Christmas Eve morning but I couldn’t enjoy it because I was worried about those pilots getting my letter safely to Santa. My brothers played all day in the snow but I just sat on the porch and moped, thinking about that stupid fighter jet replica. What was I thinking asking for that toy? I mean, I’m almost seven years old, way too old for a kids toy like that. I’d get bored with it within a few weeks if I didn’t break it before then. I was so stupid. On Christmas morning our parent’s always made us wait in our room until they called us down. The suspense was horrific. Finally they yelled upstairs and we all sprinted ferociously down the stairs. I shoved my brothers aside so I could beat them to the den. Even though there was no point for me to hurry this year I still felt that it was my rightful place as oldest brother to be the first one down. I rounded the corner into the den and setting right there in front of the fireplace was a bright blue, shiny rimmed Schwinn ‘Victory 400’ bicycle. My parents made me wait until the afternoon to ride it so that dad could help me learn “how to handle a hog like that.”

At dinner that night I volunteered to pray. I gave thanks to God for the military and especially the pilots. The next day I crashed the bike into a curb, was thrown, and broke my arm. By the time I was willing to get on a bike again I was old enough to know that Santa wasn’t real and that my parent’s loved me more than I would ever give them credit for.

1. Am I allowed to call this a memoir if its about a fictional character? I don't want Opera on my back.

Sexual Harasment

2008-05-28T09:58:00.000-07:00

At FedEx there is a position call a "pick off". There is a conveyor belt which moves along in front of each loading area. This belt moves packages that are too big, or long, wierd shaped to go through the system in the normal fashion. The role of a pick off is to stand at this belt, scan the packages and "pick them off" and set them in front of the appropriate trailer to be loaded. Because this is a lower impact, less physically demanding job the position is typically filled by women. Now I'm not saying that women are too inferior to do other jobs, and there are several women who do a great job loading, unloading, etc. But most women that get hired don't have the strength to be able to do the more physically demanding jobs for an extended period of time. In fact, it too physically demanding for a lot of guys too.

Anyways, I have a pick off that works for me. Her name is Candice, she's around 24 years old I guess, and as far as I can tell is a really nice, sweet girl. At the end of work this morning a guy from another area who was on his way out called me over. I was in the middle of working but I thought it might be important so I dropped what I was doing and walked over there.

"I never noticed this before but your pick off has some really nice tits."

Now what the hell am I suppose to say here? His comment actually made me feel awkward and offended. If Candice was a trashy girl then I probably wouldn't have felt as offended, but she's not. Now every time I see that guy I'm going to feel a little awkward even though I'm not the one who was sexually harassed.

Hot Pockets

2008-05-21T18:52:00.000-07:00

I ate one of these tasty little deliciously delighting treats[1] today.

1. pure sarcasm

Updating a Previous Story

2008-05-19T15:09:00.000-07:00

Actually I'm updating the last blog I wrote. So after you read that, then read this:

"C"

Hell Yeah!

How to Be a Good Student

2008-05-11T20:27:00.000-07:00

My history final was this past Thursday and it's a test I was a little worried about. The exam was two part. The first was a word-bank quiz; what I mean by that is there were 20 fill-in-the-blank questions and at the top of the page there were 30 key words to pick from. This sounds pretty easy but can be difficult if one doesn't study well enough. From the lectures and the text book[1] there are well over a hundred people, places and terms that we covered in the last segment of class and we have no idea which 20 he will choose. All of the previous test were the same format but he chooses a wide range of questions, so there's a lot to try and memorize.

The second part of the final is an in class essay. In class essays kind of suck. It means you really have to know what you're writing about because there's no chance to look up any facts or even re-write some things. The professor, who's name is Dr. Kyle[2], gave us a handout a couple of weeks ago with five essay questions. On the final he chose two of those five and then we chose one of those two to write about in a 'blue book', which I purchased ahead of time from the book store. So out of the five questions, I can choose four to study really well and omit the one I feel less comfortable with and I'll be safe because I'll know at least one of the questions is on the final.

So based on this, I formulated my study strategy. Since part of the final is the word-bank quiz I adjust my note taking to cater to that. Basically I used a "key-word" system of note taking. When ever the prof mentioned a person or event or place, etc, I jotted it down and why that thing is significant. So to study I just had a list of key words to try and memorize. I read through the essay questions and two of them I really didn't feel good about, so I decided not to prepare for those. I know this is dangerous and ill-advised, but I like living life on the edge[3]. So I study pretty well for three of the essay questions by writing out a really good outline for each and I hope that one of them is on the final. And I know that your thinking I screwed myself, but as it turned out, the question I felt strongest on was one of the two on the final.

I had a full week from the last class until the final and I decided that I would commit a good two hours a day working on this until I felt comfortable enough to take the final. To my surprise I was done by Monday. I already felt really comfortable with everything I thought I needed to know. This was well ahead of schedule but after my study session Monday evening I was feeling pretty good about things. But, I'm so naive that I think that is good enough. Monday to Thursday is plenty of time to forget everything. But I'm committed to doing well so I make a plan to show up to class an hour before the test and I'll look everything over again and get refreshed on my key words and my essay outlines. That way everything is readily available in my short term memory bank for immediate and total recall. I was so stoked about my chances as I walked into school that morning.

Though I had planned to be there an hour early, there was some parking issues and I ended getting there at 11:15 instead. But that's cool, 45 minutes is plenty of time. As I sit down outside of class I notice there's another class in our room. That's odd because I thought the class before us would have taken their final on Tuesday, but I didn't see anyone I recognized so whatever. But now I've got to thinking, "what if I had the times wrong? Ha, that would suck." To be safe I go ahead and pull out the handout with the essay questions to double check the start time of the test, and..................oh shit. HOLY CRAP, THE TEST STARTED AT 11:00! HOLY CRAP! I'm now in a complete panic. I've lost all of the study time I had planned for and I'm not sure I can remember everything. And what if he won't let me take the final because I'm so late.

I pack everything back up so I can go in. Only the door is locked and I have to knock and cause a distraction so the professor can let me in. I apologize for being late and he simply hands me the exam. I sat and started looking things over, and immediately double my panic level. NOTHING looks familiar. Did we cover this stuff? I don't remember anything. It's question 11 before I find an answer I know and I ended up guessing on about half of the word bank questions. This is not good. I flip over the exam and look at the essay questions. I just know he's going to have the two I didn't prepare for (I would have looked at the essay questions as soon as I got the exam but I was so afraid I put it off as look as I could). I'm so relieved to see the one I felt strongest about. This is good, maybe I can make something out of this test anyways. So I reach into my back pack to pull out my blue book.... um, I reach into my back pack to pull out my blue book.... um.... damn it. I can see the blue book still sitting on the dash board of my truck. Oh my god this day sucks!

I can't ask anyone around me because they're in the middle of the test so lurch myself up to the front and tell the professor that I left the blue book in my car, and ask what I should do. "Don't worry I brought some extra, I knew there would be some of you." Some of you? He thinks I'm one of them. So, this is my reply: "Also, my pen is messing up, do you have happen to have an extra?" His eyes roll as he hands me a pen.

All things considered I can say the day was a wash. On the one hand I completely failed the final but on the other hand I'm done with school for the semester. So all in all, not a bad day. Seriously though, I had such a good plan. I was going to be so prepared. I was being such a good student, perhaps even the best I've ever tried to be. And on a simple misunderstanding[4] I became a horrible student. I became one of those students.

1. Did not open.
2. On the first day of class he called roll. When he called out my name he said, "with that name I expect big things from you." I let that man down.
3. To be truthful, my risk-taking often stems from laziness.
4. Maybe it was my fault, maybe not. Let's not split hairs here.

The Grownup

2008-05-05T13:51:00.000-07:00

I came across this recipe for a drink called "The Grownup":

Pour 1-1/2 oz. tequila, 1/2 oz. triple sec, 1 oz. lime juice, and ice into blender, chop until slushy. Then dump that glorified Slurpee into the toilet and drink something befitting an adult, like a single-malt Scotch.

Waiting on the Roof

2008-04-30T14:30:00.000-07:00

In the past week or so I've managed to write a couple of short stories, re-write an old one and start on a poem. That's not bad. I think I would have done more if it wasn't for a lack of time (or commitment). So here's a story for your enjoyment and any criticism is appreciated.

Waiting on the Roof

There is this story I heard a pastor tell once, it’s about a man in a flood. As the water is rising a neighbor comes and says to the man, “Come with me, I’ll help you get to higher land.” The man declines, chooses to stay with his house, and says, “No, if God wants me to survive this then he’ll provide for me.” The waters rise even higher and the man is forced to climb onto his roof. A boat comes by and the man in the boat says, “Come with me, I’ll take you to safety.” The man declines saying, “No, if God wants me to live then he’ll provide for me.” A while later, a helicopter comes and one of the rescue crew descends on a rope. Again the man on the roof declines saying, “No, if God wants me to live then he’ll provide for me.” Of course the waters rise and the man is consumed. He gets to heaven and he meets God and says, "What happened God, how come you didn’t provide a way for me to survive?” God says, “You idiot, I sent you the neighbor, the guy in the boat, and a helicopter.”

This story went through my mind as I received a latte from the barista at the Starbucks near my house. She flirted with me as she always did when I stopped in after work. She had one of those names that really seemed to suit her. “Thanks Leela,” rolled off my tongue as the image of her smile once again burned into my mind. I sat down in my favorite lounge chair; it was at an angle where I could watch her work all the way from the drive-thru window to the pastries counter. And I checked her out casually as I pulled out my lap top and again as I pretended to browse something online. I made sure to be subtle and never too obvious; the last thing I would want is to make her think I was creepy. Every now and then our eyes would meet from across the room and she would smile. Not the polite smile you give when you meet eyes with a stranger in the supermarket, but a heartwarming smile as if she was genuinely pleased to see me.
She wore the standard Starbucks uniform: black shirt with green apron, and she wore the optional green visor as well. Her wavy dark hair was up in a loose, messy bun on top of her head. The bun looked as if she must have put her hair up while driving, changing the radio, doing her make-up, and sending a text message all at the same time. It was sexy in its messiness. She smiled all the time and she would laugh at even the corniest of my jokes. She was charming and flirty and always left me wondering if she was interested in something more than just a customer/barista relationship.

I thought about the story of the man on his roof in the flood because I wondered if this would be another in a long list of women I was too afraid to ask out. Though she was well out of my league and a few years younger I was certain she wasn’t flirting just because she wanted a little extra tip. I thought about Lindsey in high school who was also out of my league. Even after having her crush on me confirmed by a mutual friend, I was still too shy to ask her out. And then a few years ago there was Robin. Robin and I worked together, got along great and even hung out socially from time to time. But I never had the guts to take it to the next level. And last year there was Janie. She was friends with a girl I was dating but was far more beautiful and far more interesting. I always felt like a more competent man would have went after what he wanted instead of settling for something second best. Most people set a minimum standard for who they’ll date but I seem to set a maximum standard. If the girl seems the least bit too good for me then I dismiss any notion of being with her.

I had started to feel like this opportunity was slowly slipping away from me as well. I watched as she flirted with a younger, more attractive guy ordering a cinnamon roll and a vanilla latte. How could I even think she would be interested in a poor, average looking underachiever like me? The only reason she flirts with me is because I am a sucker. I happily over tip the girls at Hooters when they causally touch me on my back, or shoulder or knee as they take my order. She senses that and works me over to get that extra dollar in her tip jar. I can’t blame her, God gave her looks and personality and she’s making use of her gifts, just like God gave me the ability to truly appreciate the beautiful things he’s put in this world. I just wish he’d made me a little less naïve and a little more confident. Even though I would get shot down, at least I would know she wasn’t interested, instead of spending fifteen dollars a week wondering.

She caught me staring directly at her. I wasn’t staring exactly but I was fixed in her direction as I pondered God’s greater plans. “Hey… Hey!” she has to shout to break me out of my trance. “How’s that cinnamon latte?”

“Oh… uh, great.” Crap, now I feel incredibly awkward.

“Did you notice anything different with it?”

I took a sip, “Umm, no. Is there something different?”

“Yeah, I did something different this time. I’ve been experimenting lately with some different flavors. I wanted to see of you noticed that I snuck something in on you.”

“What did you put in it?”

She didn’t answer right away. She turned to walk away. She grabbed a rag and came out from around the counter to wipe some tables. I took another sip as she approached and began wiping a table near me.

“I put in three drops of a love potion I got from a gypsy… nah, I’m kidding, I put in a little nutmeg.”

I took another sip, “Oh yeah, I taste it now… yeah that’s pretty good. I like it.” I couldn’t taste anything. It’s the exact same as it always is.

“I really like nutmeg and yesterday I tried mixing it into the cinnamon latte for myself. Pretty good huh?”

“Yeah, I’ve never been very good at mixing flavors around. When I cook I just use salt and pepper but everything comes out bland anyways.” This is not true, I’m a really good cook and I love to experiment with a variety of spices and flavors. I don’t know why I’m lying.

“Oh I love experimenting with food. Ginger is my favorite right now.”

“Really? Ginger?”

“Yeah, you should try some. When you leave here you should go by the store and pick some up. Then pan fry some chicken in olive oil and sprinkle the ginger on it. You’ll love it.”

“Huh, I’ll have to give that a try.” I like ginger but I find it goes much better with some citrus flavor. Usually I marinate the chicken with a blend of lime, lemon and orange juice. I put some garlic with it as well. But I go on playing dumb.

“Try it tonight, and then come in tomorrow to let me know how you like it.”

“Yeah, I’ll do that… Actually, I could use some help with the taste testing, to make sure I did it right.” Holy crap! Did I just say that? Is this actually happening?

“Yeah?”

“You could come by my place after work and help me cook if you wanted.” This is happening! These words are actually coming out of my mouth!

“Okay, I get off about 5:00.”

I sit there completely stunned at what has just happened. She walks away and back behind the counter to help a customer. My heart rate has quadrupled and beads of sweat have formed along my brow. I try to play it off by casually by taking a sip of coffee but my hands tremble slightly as I lift the cup. I pray that she doesn’t notice my nervousness. When she finishes helping the customer she comes back over. I feel a horrible anxiety consuming me. I know she's going to give me some excuse as to why she can’t tonight. I start trying to think of a little joke I can say to play it off and make us both more comfortable with the situation. She walks directly in front of me, hands me a pen with her right hand, and extends her left hand to me.

“Here, write down your number and I’ll call you when I get off.” I look up at her and she smiles, moving her left hand closer to me, gesturing that I should just write directly on her palm.

“You’re offering me your hand? I think we should get to know each other a little better before we tie the knot.”

She pauses and I freeze. She looks at me confused, obviously not getting my joke. I begin to check the exits to see how quickly I can get out of here. Then I see the light bulb go off as the pun sinks in. She smiles and then giggles saying, “Yeah right, you wish.” I slowly write down my number on her palm, making sure that each digit is legible. She returns to help more customers and I finish my drink. She's overwhelmed with caffeine craving teenagers as I leave so I simply wave to her as not to bother her work.

“Bye Steve, see you tonight.” She calls out across the store with a smile. Walking across the parking lot to my car I wonder whether it would be easier to correct her and tell her my name is Gary or if I should just drive down to the Justice of the Peace and have my name legally changed.

Congratulate Me

2008-04-29T06:41:00.000-07:00

I've just been informed that I've won the United Nations Humanitarian Award. I just received an email[1] notifying me that I've been selected as the winner for the month of April 2008[2]. Obviously I am way excited about finally getting recognized for my efforts. There is also a cash reward that goes with this award, 245,000 GBP. That's a lot of money. 245,000 pounds is roughly[3] 483,457.87 US dollars. All I have to do to collect my reward and money is email fiduciary agent in Liverpool a bunch of personal information and he'll send it right to me[4].

I can't wait until I get the money; I've been trying to decide what to do with it. I've always wanted to become a big game hunter, or maybe I could poach elephants, there's a lot of money to be made in ivory these days. Maybe I could invest in the logging industry, there is tons of rain forest left. Or if I could just find a way to use the money to suppress a third world country, that would be ideal. At any rate, once I get the award and become famous I'll completely forget about all of my current friends and I'll start dating a hot ex-playboy centerfold (and the sex will be amazing)[5].

All that's left now is for me to email this guy all of my personal information and I should receive the award very soon.

1. It makes sense that email would be the preferred way of notification for the United Nations Humanitarian Award.
2. Apparently they do this monthly, I can't believe this the first I've heard of this award.
3. I say roughly because the market fluctuates.
4. With a word like fiduciary it must be legit.
5. Clearly they've given the Humanitarian Award to the right person.

I Hate Stupid People

2008-04-25T15:08:00.000-07:00

At last night's softball game we were short a player and we had to pick one up from another team that played on a different field the game before ours. The guy we got was... well... he was a complete moron. He was telling us this story before the game about what happened to him in the previous game[1].

"When I got up to bat in the last inning I wanted to try and intimidate the pitcher so I crowded the plate. And you know what the pitcher did? He hit me... on propose. He hit me right in my knee. Can you believe that?"

I can't even begin to describe how utterly stupid that is. And I actually happen to see the at bat he was refering to. The ball did in fact hit his knee and when it did he jumped around and hobbled as if he had been hit by a 90 mph fastball[2].

1. Keep in mind this is slow pitch softball.
2. But it was really a slow pitch softball.

Setting Goals

2008-04-22T17:20:00.000-07:00

Partially inspired by Roper's successful song writing attempts and also because I think I should be doing more with my life currently, I've decided to start writing some stuff of my own. My long term goal would be to write a book of short stories but in the mean time I am going to try and write one with the intent of earnestly trying to get it published. I feel this is completely in my wheel house if I stay focused and don't try not to shoot too high. A secondary goal I have is to write 12 respectable[1] pieces of work (short story, poem or even a one act play) over the course of the next year. That's one a month if you're doing the math. But as it sometimes goes, I'm getting off to a slow start[2]. I'll need to get the writing book back from Roper that I loaned him and I think rereading some of that book will get my creative juices flowing again. I would like to be able to crank out something to post by the end of the month, but early next month seems more likely. Wish me luck and I'll have something posted soon for your criticism and enjoyment[3].

1. Something that I would feel comfortable posting for others to read.
2. This blog is the only thing I've written since making my goals.
3. Or maybe just criticism.

A Fat Lady Hitting a Kid

2008-04-21T14:06:00.000-07:00

Here's a Quote from Leave It to Beaver.

Ward Cleaver - "Why, when I was young I could find all kinds of things to keep me entertained at the train station... Sometimes I would just sit and watch a fat lady hitting a kid. I haven't seen a train station yet where there wasn't a fat lady hitting a kid."

No Bitch Ass Ness

2008-04-20T01:18:00.000-07:00

Out at a restaurant last night with some of the gang we saw an African-American fellow enter wearing a solid black shirt with bold white lettering that said:

NO
BITCH
ASS
NESS

We were all a little confused as to the meaning of this shirt, perhaps because we are white or perhaps because it made no sense. Fortunately I was able to find a legitimate source[1] to explain this unique t-shirt a little more.

1. I'm being facetious here[2].
2. I don't understand how someone who comes off as such an idiot can be a successful business man[3].
3. He's charging $30 for a shirt I could make for $5 with supplies from Garden Ridge.

The Un-Top 10

2008-04-16T15:32:00.000-07:00

For some reason I was thinking about this earlier today, the movies I really like but would never make it into my top movies list. These aren't necessarily good movies but movies that are really enjoyable for whatever reason.

10. The Police Academy series - "The old zoo, not the new zoo, but the old zoo."
9. The Naked Gun series - "It's a topsy-turvy world, and maybe the problems of two people don't amount to a hill of beans. But this is our hill. And these are our beans!"
8. Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid - "I hadn't seen a body put together like that since I solved the case of the Murdered Girl with the Big Tits."
7. The Lethal Weapon series - "I'm getting too old for this s***."
6. Major League 1&2 (but not 3) - "Strike this motherf***er out."
5. The Die Hard series - "Yippie-kay-yay, motherf***er."
4. Airplane - "Have you ever seen a grown man naked?"
3. White Men Can't Jump - "Yo mamma's an astronaut."
2. The Princess Bride - "I'm with the Brut Squad." "You are the brut squad."
1. Blazing Saddles - "Nobody move or the N***** gets it."

Having My Cake and Eating it Too

2008-04-15T20:08:00.000-07:00

The weeks following a break-up can be a weird time. You feel a range of emotions pulling you in a variety of directions. There’s part of you that feels heart broken but that’s the part you never want to think about, and so I won’t. There’s part of you that feels a new, almost foreign feeling of freedom. Like you’ve just been released from prison(1) and you have no where to go and nothing to do. You could do anything you wanted but ultimately you just want to do the same stuff that got you in prison to begin with. And there’s also a feeling of loss. This feeling of loss is different from the feeling of heart break, which we will not talk about. The feeling of loss comes when you are reminded of her. But more specifically when you are reminded of the way the two of you used to be together. When something happens and you are reminded of the cutesy little vocabulary the two of you shared that no one else knew about. And you are left to wonder if you’ll ever find another person you can be that cute with. What new words or phrases will there be with this new girl and will they be as cute as ours? And how long will it take you to become that way with someone else? It happened so fast with her, will it happen that quickly again? Is it even possible to be like that with someone else? Would they even get it? Maybe it’s not possible? Maybe she was the one? Maybe I should call her?

You’re also left with a million questions as well.

But then you think about your new freedom and you get distracted from the questions. You feel a little like a kid in a candy shop, everything looks delicious and you want to sample it all, but you only have 30 cents(2) and you have to figure out what’s going to be the best value for your money. Do you want something that’s more filling and will stick with you longer, or do you go for something that’s amazing but will only last about a bite and a half. To stretch this food analogy even farther, imagine if you were only allowed to eat carrot cake(3). For a year and a half you’ve had nothing but carrot cake. That’s not so bad because you love carrot cake, it’s probably you favorite cake, so you can live with carrot cake. But then suddenly you are told you can have any cake you want. Suddenly every cake seems delicious. And not just cake, but any pastry is up for grabs. Even though you love carrot cake it certainly not as sexy as a chocolate torte or tiramisu. But you’re so excited about you freedom you’ll even snack on some stale Wal-Mart purchased baklava just because you can. But that’s when you realize that too much freedom is a bad thing and you should probably go ahead and choose a cake that suits you a little better. The tiramisu is delicious, but it’s also expensive and you know you would get tired of it after a while. There’s pound cake that’s cheap and readily available but who want to show off pound cake to their friends. “Hey guy, look what I brought, pound cake!” No, you can never get excited about pound cake. And then you start to realize that the carrot cake was really pretty good. You were content with carrot cake, carrot cake makes you happy. Carrot cake may not be perfect but it was pretty good. So you think, “Maybe I should just stick with the carrot cake”. But then out of nowhere, some angel food cake comes along, and you’re confused all over again.

1. I don't mean this as insulting as it sounds.
2. Literally in this case.
3. I'm actually referring to my mom's carrot cake here, which we all know is pretty bad ass.

Co-ed Naked Softball

2008-04-05T16:20:00.000-07:00

I recently joined another softball team and our first game was Friday night. I found this team while looking around craigslist.com1. I saw an ad for a co-ed team needing a pitcher, and I said to myself, "I'm a pitcher, that's me." So I replied to the ad and the guy managing the team, let's call him Brian2, said that they had a pitcher already but could I play shortstop. I said, "I'm a shortstop, that's me." And thus, I'm the shortstop for the Fireballs of North Richland Hills.

I wanted to join a co-ed team, not for the competition and level of play as you might expect, but rather I thought this could be a way to meet ladies. There are two types of women that play co-ed softball: 1. The unattractive type who have played softball all of their lives, and 2. hot ladies who have no talent3. I was hopeful that this team would be the latter. I was the second to arrive at the field which gave me a chance to scout out the "talent" of our team as they arrived. The first two ladies to arrive were obviously good players4. But I was okay with that because every team need a couple of those so that we can compete. But as the rest of the team arrived I was reminded about the third category of ladies playing co-ed softball, they type that is neither good nor attractive. And when I looked across the field at the our opposing team I realized I was on the wrong side5.

A few notes from our first game.
-- We won 8-5, winning feels good.
-- Only in co-ed softball is it possible to hit a lead off triple and not score6. I sat on third and watch, in succession, a strikeout, an infield pop-up, and a grounder to the pitcher.
-- There was one cute girl who may or may not have flirted with me and may or may not have a boyfriend.
-- I genuinely had fun playing because this seems to be a pretty nice bunch of people.
-- The guys on this team are all pretty talented7.

1) I love craigslist. I look at it almost daily for one thing or another.
2) Because that's his name.
3) I mean no softball talent, I'm sure they are talented in other ways.
4) You know what I mean.
5) They didn't look like a good team because they were a good looking team.
6) And possibly the Rangers.
7) At softball.

No Country for Old Resturants

2008-02-28T06:47:00.000-08:00

Another great "mom and pop" style diner has been forced to close it's doors. Eastside Fort Worth burger joint, Boogie Burger has closed down and yet another of my favorite places to eat is no more. I am reminded of The Trellis Rose, a small diner on E. Lancaster that closed down a few years ago. We frequented the Trellis Rose every Sunday after church and occasionally a few times during the week as well. We went there so often that our usual waitress began to remember what we each ordered. We all always got the same thing: chicken fried steak. We each got a different combination of side but the main course was always the same. I had heard that some of their other menu items were good, but nothing came close to the deliciousness of their chicken fried steak. I consider myself to be a bit of a connoisseur of the dish and I have tried a vast variety in my time. I've been to places known for their chicken fried steak and I've had it at mainstream chain restaurants as well. Of all of the various chicken fried steaks I've partaken of, including homemade ones, none of them came close to the perfection that was the Trellis Rose chicken fried steak.

I feel much the same out Boogie Burger. It was, simply put, a delcious burger. And now it's gone. This is what's wrong with this country. Great little family owed places can generate enough buisness to keep going despite their amazing cooking, yet places like Denny's are allowed to remain open.

Sports Center is at times genius

2008-01-22T08:10:00.000-08:00

As you may know football has a two week break from now until the Super Bowl.

I was watching Sports Center this morning and the let off the show with this story about Tom Brady. Apparently he was caught by the paparazzi taking flowers to his super model girlfriend. This story is, of course, of no significance to anyone ever. However this is the story Sports Center was leading off with. The two host were debating what kind of flowers it was and whether or not that was the best choice of flowers. the even went to split screen to bring in another commentator's opinion. Apparently starting with this and debating the flowers was all staged (as in they understood the ridiculousness of it). Because after a good 90 seconds of this they cut away to someone else who says, "And this is the story we are going to be going with the next few days until we are able to talk about football again." Hilarious.

White men can't jump....

2008-01-17T02:03:00.000-08:00

... but they can jump better than midgets.

At UTA the offer a basketball class as an athletic credit. You learn drills and plays and fundamentals and such. There is a midget in my class. He's about 4 feet tall or so and has a head the size of a basketball. He can't possibly be good. I'm going to feel bad every time I block his shot. It's like defending against a retarded person. But for some reason he has the notion that he can play basketball. So that may lead you to wonder if he is an exceptionally athletic or coordinated midget. Well maybe, but that doesn't matter when you have arms like a tyrannosaurus rex.

Conversation of the Day

2008-01-08T06:46:00.001-08:00

I went to 7-11 early this morning, about 3:30ish, in need of some Gatorade. There's an old woman who works there that time of morning. By old I mean about 70 or so. Now you have to assume that a 70 year old woman working the grave yard shift at 7-11 must be a bit crazy to begin with. I grab my Gatorade and approach the counter where she is there to check me out. On a side note she talks pretty slow, or she talks on an average pace for a 70 year old lady.

old lady - How are you today?

me - I'm fine, how are you?

old lady - I'm doing good. Do you know much about history?

me - Huh?

old lady - Do you know much about history?

me - Huh? Um... I know a bit. Why?

old lady - Let me ask you... Can you tell me the most important historical event ever in the history of Utah?

me - Huh? Utah? ... Yeah okay. I would probably say when Brigham Young led the Mormons from Pennsylvania.

old lady - nope.

*awkward pause*

me - okay, um, what is it then.

old lady - well is that all you got?

Keep in mind I would like to just pay for my stuff and leave now and not have to answer random obscure state trivia. And I really can't think of anything more important to a state than when a mass of people came to found it.

me - yeah, that's all I got.

old lady - It's the "Golden Spike". You know, the railroads. East meets west.

I know what she talking about, when the connected the first transcontinental railroad. And right now, at this point in my life, while I'm just trying to buy some Gatorade, there is nothing less significant than when they connect the first transcontinental railroad.

old lady - Of course the spike isn't still there anymore, they got it in a museum now.

This is News

2007-12-12T14:19:00.000-08:00

I was watching the local news and as they go to commercial hey show a "teaser" of the upcoming story that they will report on after the break. This was the teaser...

"Why don't pregnant women fall over? The answer may surprise you."

Does this seem extremely stupid? Why would anyone ever report on this? Well the teaser worked beause I stayed tuned to see the report. As it turns out its because pregnant women balance.

Quote of the day

2007-11-14T07:06:00.000-08:00

"Smile, work is almost over!" -- A woman said this to me today. Apparently I was walking around with a frown. This could have been because I was working, or it could have been because I was working on only a couple of hours sleep, but one things for sure, I was not in a bad mood before she said this.

This is the equivalent of saying, "Sounds like somebody has a case of the Monday's."
I reckon she should get her ass kicked for saying something like that.

Boogie Burger

2007-11-13T12:34:00.000-08:00

Quite possibly one of the best burgers I have ever eaten. Boogie Burger is a mom and pop hole-in-the-wall place located on the south side of East Lancaster, just west of the old Stripling Cox building*. And actually before yesterday I never knew of its existence. And its no wonder I never noticed it before, typically in that stretch of Lancaster I just keep my eyes on the road in front of me. I don't usually notice the businesses along there because I don't look to the side. I don't want to look over and accidentally make eye contact with someone, that's a good way to get yourself killed in that neighborhood.

Their burgers are juicy and greasy but not too greasy, just the right amount. Of course they are cooked to order and you have the option of adding some delicious grilled onions to the standard lettuce, tomato and pickle. They also have fries that are cut straight from the potato and never frozen. For $5.25 you can get a quarter pounder with fries and a drink. But you should go ahead and add bacon, which is always just the right amount of crispiness, for 75 cents more. They also have some other classics like milk shakes onion rings and corny dogs... but it's really the hamburgers that'll make you want to "boogie".

And don't forget to say high to the homeless guy out front. All he's panhandling for is your smile and a kind word**.

*North. There, now I managed to use all four direction in describing the location of a single place.
** And your money.

"You got this covered"

2007-11-11T22:40:00.000-08:00

I attend a contemporary worship service on Sunday evenings. From time to time I am asked to give the sermon at the service. But not earlier tonight, the pastor of the church, Jim, was giving the sermon.

Just as the band was beginning their last song before the sermon, a man came in. I had never seen him before but he sat down behind this guy named Joe and started talking to him. I wondered if he was just some guy looking for handouts but by the way he just started talking to Joe I assumed they knew each other. He spoke to Joe for a minute, I saw Joe shake his head no and the man got up. He came to me. He told me some story about how he was low on gas and he needed a ride to get back to his wife and baby who were in his car at some gas station several miles away. The story he told was insignificant to me as his breath had the yeasty sent of beer. I wasn't going to give this guy any money, and definitely not a ride somewhere.

When he realized I wasn't going to be of any help he moved on to another rube. He happened to ask Pastor Jim next. Now keep in mind all of this is taking place while the band is playing their last song before the sermon and I can forsee some awkwardness as the band will soon finish and Jim is still talking to this grifter. I watch out of the corner of my eye. Jim talks to the man, then taps a guy name Ron on the shoulder and asks him a question. Ron is probably the biggest, most intimidating guy there and he also doesn't smile often. Ron gets up and talks to the guy with Jim. I'm not sure what's going on but Jim is the type to give someone’s story the benefit of the doubt and want to help him. And as Jim approaches me, with that look on his face like he needs to ask me a serious favor, I think to myself "man, this is going to suck."

"Ron and I are going to take this guy to his car. You got this covered?"

As in can I do the sermon in his absence. The sermon that is about to start in less than thirty seconds. Can I do an impromptu sermon and make it actually mean something. That is what he was asking with his nonchalant, "you got this covered."

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh?" I respond.

"Or I could give you the keys to my car and you could take him."

"I got this. I'll do the sermon."

I felt a whole lot more comfortable getting up completely unprepared and doing a sermon than I did giving this other guy a ride to his , probably non-existent, family.

Jim and Ron and the guy left as I got up and said "Uhhhh... anybody got a bible with them?"

Hue is on first

2007-11-06T09:30:00.000-08:00

I had an interview today for a promotion with in Fed Ex. I have been doing double shifts 2 nights a week, working on two different belts and the interview was to make me full time rather than part time. On a side note, when I person is first hired they are assigned to a Load Coach who is to teach the new hire to load. They are in training with the Load Coach for three weeks and then they are done with them. My Load Coach was an Asian guy named Hue (pronounced just like the English name Hugh). Here is part of the conversation of my interview with a Hub Manager.

Manager: "So you have been doing double shifts on Blue belt and Purple belt, that means your supervisors are Mark and... uhh..."

Me: "Mike"

Manager: "Yeah, Mike, that's right. And who was your load coach?"

Me: "Hue."

Manager: "Your Load Coach, who was it?"

Me: "Yeah, that's right."

Manager: "No, I am asking who your Load Coach was."

Me: "Hue."

Manager: "You know, the person that trained you to load when you first started."

Me: "Hue was my load coach."

Manager: "I don't know who your Load Coach was, you should remember that."

Me: "Yeah, Hue was."

Manager: "Do you remember what he looked like?"

Me: "Yeah, the Asian guy."

Manager: "Oh, that's Hue."

You could see it here, when the light went off. He sat for a second as if he was pondering some deep philosophical concept. The he resumed eye contact with me and looked moderately ticked off.

Me: "Oh come on, that was pretty good."

He was definitely not amused. I think he thought I was trying to make a fool out of him... and in hind sight I guess I was. But I got the promotion anyways.

*Disclaimer: The previous conversation may have never actually taken place. This could be one of those cases where I thought of something really funny to say 30 minutes later.

Disappointment of the day

2007-11-02T07:34:00.000-07:00

The Mavs dropped DJ Mbenga and signed veteran PF Juwan Howard. Sure Juwan Howard fills a void in the lineup but now who is going to run around wildly at the end of blowout games fouling people? Who? Trenton Hassel? JJ Barea? Nope, no one. Maybe Dirk can pick up some of the slack in that department. Seriously, wouldn't it be fun to see Dirk running around at the end of games just slamming into people like Mbenga used to?

Link to artical

Kevin Smith's ugly child

2007-10-24T19:11:00.001-07:00

I was recently reminded of an interview I heard with Kevin Smith on NPR. The interview was, as you would expect, quite entertaining. A few times during the interview Kevin Smith referenced Jersey Girl and how it was a bad movie. This prompted the interviewer to ask "Was there some point during the filming and production of Jersey Girl that you knew it was going to be a bad movie?"

"Um, no. Not really. Not until the first screening anyways. I didn't expect it to be a great movie but I didn't think it would bomb that hard. It's kind of like having an ugly child. No matter how ugly your child may be, you can't see it as an ugly child. Because it's your child. It's not until someone says 'Oh my what an ugly child' that you start to realize your child may be ugly. Eventually there were plenty of people to tell me how ugly my child was."

The entire interview was really great. Thus proving the genius of Kevin Smith and NPR.

*Disclaimer: Kevin Smith's quote may not be exactly what he said, it was a couple of months ago that I heard the interview. But my paraphrase is pretty close.

Quote of the Day

2007-10-23T07:04:00.000-07:00

"Don't be frontin'."

This was said to me by one of my co-workers while we were having a small argument. What was funny is how serious he was. He wasn't saying it in a joking manner, he really didn't want me frontin'.

Further more I haven't heard someone apply this word in conversation since... I don't know, 1996*. What does frontin' mean anyways? I have an idea I think, and I know it is apparently negative and/or insulting in some way to be frontin', but I couldn't really begin to form a definition for the word.

Upon further research I have found that frontin' is a slang term meaning to put up a false front, or in other word to be fake and not sincere about the type of person you really are.

I feel that I need to put the argument with my co-worker in better context now. We were loading boxes into a trailer. Our job with each package is to read the zip code of the destination, mark on the box the last digit of the zip code and then load the package. This guys truck was really backed up and my supervisor sent me and another guy to help. The other guy began loading and the "angry co-worker" was reading the zip codes and marking them. It takes a little time to read each zip and mark it on the package, much more time than it takes to load the packages, especially if you have to turn the box a couple of time to find the label. So I decided I would be more helpful by going ahead of the "angry co-worker" and turning all the packages so the label was face up, thus speeding up the process**.

"No, I got it" he said.

"I'm going to turn the labels up for you" I said.

"No I got it, go load."

Keep in mind there is already one guy loading and there is literally one package to be loaded between "Angry co-worker" and the other guy.

"There aren't any packages to load" I said.

"Don't be Frontin'."

"Hey man, I'm just trying to help."

"If it's going to be like that then you can just go on up out this truck." ***

And so I did, 'go on up out that truck'. And I stayed out. And he stayed back up the entire shift. Now who's frontin'? Actually, neither of us, because when he said that it was completely out of context. It sounds stupid when a person uses big words when they don't really know the meaning of them, it sounds even more stupid when a person uses slang words and they don't know the meaning.

* Remember Ebonics?
** I have enough experience to know that this can be very effective when backed up.
*** He was disproportionally mad when he said this.

Telemundo

2007-10-09T17:55:00.000-07:00

Some of the best acting in television can be found in Mexican soap operas; though many Americans have never cared to notice. Affairs, sibling rivalries, greed, lust, and murder, all of the key ingredients to good on screen conflict are present in Mexican soaps. Not to mention a diverse cast of characters.* But its the acting that truly defines the Mexican Soap and sets it apart from its American counterparts. In fact the acting is so good you don't need to know Spanish or have the benefit of subtitles. Through delivery, timing, emotion voice inflection and most of all facial expressions you can fully understand** what is going on. A Mexican soap actor could best be compared to a really good mime. You don't have to see the box to know the the tight spot the mime is in.

* There is one girl that has blond hair and blue eyes, clearly not of Mexican decent. Perhaps a native Spaniard, or a Norwegian with a foreign language degree.
** barely understand.

Quote of the Day

2007-10-04T20:24:00.000-07:00

“There’s always two things that you need to stop doing, two things you need to keep doing and two things you need to start doing,” -- Avery Johnson.

I'm not sure what that means exactly, but saying things like that is what seperates the good coaches from the great coaches.