Something I Need To Get Off My Chest

I can't get Jay Leno and Doritos out of my head ever since George Bush said his infamous "Bring 'em on" quote. Every time a Black Hawk or Chinook crash, car bomb, ambush, grenade, or accident kills an American, a lot goes through my head.

First I think of a friend of a friend who is over there and hope all is well.

And then I think of George Bush's pyschotic "Bring 'em on" quote. And I mean the dictionary defintion of psychotic: "characterized by defective or lost contact with reality." As in "I don't appreciate the meaning of life and death." As in I'll send 152 people to death row, and while I'm at it, I'll mock the pleas for clemency of a woman on death row.

And while all this is going on, two images go through my head. The first is George Bush landing a plane on an aircraft carrier, and the second is Jay Leno's Dorito's commercials from the late 80s. Do you the ad campaign I'm talking about? The one where Jay, at the end of each spot, would say, "Crunch all you want. We'll make more." And to me, that's the essence of the "Bring 'em on" quote. Bush shows his true colors when his comments aren't scripted. It gives me the creeps just thinking about, that soldiers are just another commodity to him like corn chips or, I don't know, OIL.

If this Bush's attitude towards his own soldiers, what does that say about how he views everyone else in the world (outside of his inner circle)? Does he give a shit at all about Iraqi civilians, those who voted against him, those in congress who oppose him, those in Europe who protest passionately against him, or how about the entire continent of Africa, AIDS and all?

I know the "Bring 'em on" quote is old news, but I just wanted to get this out there in the public domain, as my brain has been marinating in this bitterness a bit too much lately.

They Might Be Authors

Emily posted about super tasters on her blog (we saw a show about super taster on TV). That was four nights ago and I still can't get the They Might Be Giants "Super Taster" song out of my head (which it turns out, is an apt description of what it's like to be a super taster).

Coincidentally, I was at a conference over the weekend and was browsing through a bookstore and stumbled across They Might Be Giants' new book, Bed, Bed, Bed. Don't know much about it, beyond that it exists, and what it says on their website. But it looks cool to me. And of course, seeing this book did nothing to help get the damn John Lee Supertaster song out of my head.

Image from They Might Be Giants' website for kids


I think I'll listen to "Super Taster" and then go bed. Maybe that will get it out of my system.

Shithouse Mouse!

Yesterday, all crazed sports fans across America know, was the Regional Championships for NCAA Cross Country. And as per usual, the lads from Grinnell will be sending an individual to the National Meet, but could not qualify as a team. The guy, by the way, is a hoss among hosses and took 2nd in the race. He is, hands-down, the most talented distance runner the school has had. I'd say overall runner, but there was that F. Morgan Taylor hurdler from the 20s who was actually in the Olympics. And, technically, Taylor was in Chariots of Fire. The careful movie veiwer will note that the Limey hurdler-protagonist is near two Americans in the big race. One of these Americans, historically speaking, would be Grinnell's own F. Morgan Taylor.

Anyway, as a team, it sounds like it was a disappointing showing for Grinnell (a feeling I was all too familiar with), despite the fact that the Central Region was stacked this year (something else I was too familiar with). Anyway, it will be interesting to see how it goes at Nationals next weekend. It really sucks to go and run a cross country race without your team, but I'm sure this guy could get All-American running backwards. The real question is: will he get top ten or even top five? I sure hope so, and I think he has a great chance. So what if I'm the only one reading or writing this who cares? It's my blog damnit, and this is what interests me.

The Bachelor

Isn't there a sexy reality TV show about a bachelor? Emily is out of town for a conference, and I had to stay in Minneapolois for a conference/seminar of my own (more on that to follow). And let me tell you, if there were a video camera in our house, I would be putting the "reality" back into reality TV.

Are there any any scantily clad 20somethings making out with me in a hot tub? NO! Do we even have a hot tub? And am I going on dates in Europe with these women? NO! Are they talking about how charming, yet down-to-earth I am? NO!

Here's the highlights of what The Bachelor would be like if were really a reality show (based on my last 48 hours):

SATURDAY:
5:03 p.m. After returning from work-related conference, The Bachelor returns to his pad to find a sink full unwashed dishes and nothing to eat. The Bachelor grabs a beer, tries not to think about mess. He is successful in not thinking about mess by watching college football game he doesn't care about.

5:17 p.m. Games ends and The Bachelor ponders does a) calling friends to make plans for evening or b) cleaning up mess in kitchen. Ends up watching local TV news instead.

5:21 p.m. Realizes patheticness of situation and decides "maybe I will call my homies or find a hot tub filled to the rim with girls in bikinis, just like on TV."

5:23 p.m. On the way to phone, the Bachelor realizes he forgot to set-up the evening's line-up for his fantasy basketball league he's in. Goes on-on line to do that. Ends up surfing web for 86 minutes.

7 p.m. Decides not call friends but to call pizza man. Watches Pleasantville DVD he bought earlier in the day and then Bucakroo Banzai DVD he bought a long time ago. Afterwards, goes checks on friends' blogs and sleeps in bed.

You get the idea? Today's highlights include:
1. Wathing football
2. Cleaning the house
3. Talking on the phone
4. Running
5. Blogging
6. Reading

Not too sexy, unless you consider my running sexy. These days I'm slower than Christma. So maybe it looks like I'm going in slow-motion, which, we all know is really sexy when you're on the beach (does the north shore of Lake Harriett count as a beach?). Am I just a piss-poor excuse bachelor or is this what it was always like? It's been so long I can't remember.

God Has Left the Locker Room

With Avery Johnson praising the Lord and playing basketball in Golden State and David Robinson in retirement, the Spurs hvae lost their fire and brimstone. But now David Robinson is part of the ministry staff of Oak Hills Church.

Last night the Spurs retired David Robinson's #50. Click here for the story.

Now I may not agree with David Robinson when he says things like AIDS is Gods punishment for immorality or that people who don't support the war in Iraq should pipe down because this is America (huh?). However, at least he has the courage speak his mind as his beliefs appear to be well thought out.

And more importantly, how many elite pro athletes carried themselves with the responisibilty that #50 did? For a pretty funny retrospective of 50 moments from his career, click here to see Buck Harvey's column.

I especially like #18, 19, and 36. But #37 is by far the best: 37. After a tense timeout late in a game, going back to the bench to tell Larry Brown that cursing in the huddle isn't necessary.

The only moment Buck left out was "Robinson crumpling to the ground after Shaq gave him a cheap shot two seasons ago, planting his mammoth elbow as hard as he could in Robinson's abdomen before the Lakers had even set-up their offense." I shouldn't end on such a negative note, but *^%^&$%#@$ the Lakers!!!!

Do My Pots Look Like Potty?

There is a small debate surfacing in the kitchen. About two years ago I bought a set of All Clad pots and pans. Matt the Hatt or James, or whatever the hell else he's calling himself these days, who is a Teflon Hata', will be happy to know only one of them is teflon. But I digress.

The debate that is simmering its way into a boil is how do these pots and pans look best? Emily doesn't like the stains that come from two years of use. Quite a few pots of chili, soup, risotto, and bean dishes have cooked in these pots. Simple soap, water, elbow grease, and shouts of "Out, out damn spot!" won't get scrub some of these stains clean.

But I say, it looks good that way. You can tell we use our pots and pans a lot, and the spots are therefore just marks of love and familiarity. Much like the smile wrinkles on an old man's forehead. But Emily thinks we should get some heavy duty cleaner and make them look brand spanking new. They look a little too "rode hard and put away wet" for her tastes.


Image from www.happycookers.com


However, I feel so chef-like when I have the blue natrual gas flame going on three burners, each topped with a well-worn pot full of Mike's brew cooking and boiling away. I am reminded of the cooking scenes from Big Night. So any takers as to whether or not these pots need some heavy-duty cleaning?

GasticReflux Capacitor

In the industry we'd call it GERD Capacitor.

Either way (to paraphrase the GERD entry), stange things happen when you check your site meter.

Click here and scroll half-way down. You'll see my degree of separation (and your degree of separation) from the GERD blogger has now decreased by one.

Anyway, it's a blog worth checking out. Concise and to the point. Maybe I can learn something from that.

Those Sick-Ass Greyhound Bastards

One of the fabled south Texas rivalries is between the Boerne Greyhound and my old high school, the Alamo Heights Mules. However, a coach at Boerne has taken the rivalry to a new level:

Boerne school trustees have accepted the resignation of a teacher who acknowledged to police that he posed as another person during a sexually explicit Internet chat with minors, officials said.

A police incident report says Gary Conn, a social studies teacher and assistant football coach in Boerne, admitted representing himself as an Alamo Heights coach in the July 1 chat with two 15-year-old girls.

"The investigation exonerated the Alamo Heights coach," said Lt. Darwin Griffeth of the Alamo Heights Police.

From http://news.mysanantonio.com/story.cfm?xla=saen&xlb=180&xlc=1076215&xld=

This story begs two questions:
1. What the fuck?
2. Which Alamo Heights coach was he impersonating?

Click here for the story.

I'll tell you what. Everytime a person logs onto the internet he or she must choose to you this tool for good or evil. It's pretty obvious what route the Greyhound coach took.

It's Not Like It's Dr. Who (yet)

But could Lieutenant Joe Leaphorn and Officer Jim Chee be on their way to dominating the PBS airwaves the same way Dr. Who and the cardboard box robots used to? I sure hope so. Coyote Waits will be shown this fall on Mystery! and Thief of Time is in the hopper. This is all a follow-up from last year's success with Skinwalkers.

Click here for more information.

This will be a much slicker sterile production than anything you'd see on Dr. Who. But the question persists: Which is cooler? Navajos fighting crime in the desert, or earthlings fighting crime in space?

Awesome...

If I ever get around to making more Top Ten lists, I'll have to address the top five or ten best comic strips. All Family Circus cracks aside, The Far Side would be probably be #1. And now there is The Complete Far Side. As far as I can tell it contains every single published Far Side and then some. It even has some of his initial rejection letters. I heard Gary Larson interviewed today on Morning Edition when he talked about all these goodies.

I think a fitting tribute to Gary Larson, would be to give The Complete Far Side was a Pi Day gift, which is, duh, on March 14th. Or Avogrado's Number Day, but that was last week (October 23, to be exact). You know, 6.02 times 10 to the 23rd. Shit, this may be too geeky for even The Far Side.

Jumbo Shrimp

Auto names have always intrigued me. Usually they are so freaking abstract or meaningless. What the hell is an "Allero," "Accord," or "Civic?" Might as well name a car the "Convent" or the "Concourse." It doesn't matter what the word means, as long as it sounds cool (and benign in the sedan's case).

But the one that really bothers me is the contradictory Jeep Cherokee Pioneer. So far as I know, putting a Cherokee in the same room as a pioneer is a bad idea, much less in an SUV. But that's okay, it sounds cool.


Image from http://digilander.libero.it/xjconnection/gallery_xj01.htm


For more on the lunacy of auto names, check out Matt the Hatt's most excellent Robot Alert blog about the new GM La Crosse (French for masturbation) and other naming fiascoes.

Molly Quinn's Sadness

Last night was the last ever pub quiz at Molly Quinn's Irish Pub. So I went with Brian, my uncle-in-law. We got there an hour early and still had to stand. This speaks more to the square-footage of Molly Quinn's (or lack therefore of) as it does the crowd that showed up.

So I had my final drafts of Boddington's and Brian and I mustered out a respectable score of 34 out of 50 (42 was the winning score). My biggest contribution was knowing Rocky Marciano was the boxer who died in an Iowa plane crash. The most memorable bit of trivia I learned was President Gerald Ford was born Leslie King Jr. (we guessed Taft--whoops).

Anwyay, Molly Quinn's is such a friendly place. It s so easy to strike up a conversation with anyone around you. I like co-owner (and pub quiz author) Wild Bill Watkin's quote: "An Irish pub is not a bar. It is a place where you can take your grandmother or your granddaughter."


Image from http://www.twincitiesdiningguide.com/restaurants/molly_quinns_irish_pub.htm

So, why is Molly Quinn's closing? Some of you may know the answer to this already. The short answer is "it's closing for total bullshit reasons." The longer answer is SuperAmerica, the ubiquitous Twin Cities gas station/convenience store is expanding and gave the Molly Quinn's landlords a lucrative deal to evict Wild Bill and the gang. All so the gas station can take over the whole block. The really nifty thing is this all going down on 43rd Ave and Lake Street. The next closest SuperAmerica is just FIVE FUCKING BLOCKS AWAY on 38th and Lake.

We live close to 40th Street and Lyndale Avenue, where there are two SuperAmericas across the street from each other (one on the SE corner and the other on the SW). Maybe I should start boycotting SuperAmerica.

Either way, it is sad that Molly Quinn's is closing. The only solace is Wild Bill plans to take his pub quiz act to the Dubliner in St. Paul. As Brian and I were leaving the owners got together and began singing a series of songs. Brian said he felt as if we were leaving someone's private party. That sums it all up, I think.

Brought Back to Life

Emily's mom called her a "World Series widow" sometime last week, as every time she called to talk to Emily I was watching baseball. But, in my opinion, that was a great World Series! And of course, another Texas pitcher stole the show. This time it was Josh Beckett. Let's see... Nolan Ryan, Roger Clemens, Kerry Wood, and now Beckett. What is the deal with hard-throwing Texas pitchers?

Coming full-circle, I watched the last three innings of game 6 with, who else, Emily and her mom. It's funny because I don't think my mother-in-law could name three current baseball players. But she was on the edge of her seat cheering for the Marlins. This would be like James/Matt the Hatt painting his face silver and black for a Spurs game.

Anyway, you know a pitcher is mowing them down with his nasty stuff when your mother-in-law says, "Wow! That pitcher is amazing!" That's the highest praise I can give for Beckett's dominance over the Yankees. Damn. The guy is 23 years-old in Yankee stadium and he didn't bat an eye. He has the kind if cockiness I like. Not the "I rule" kind of arrogance, but the "Nothing scares me" cockiness. A star is born.

In Case You Didn't Notice

There is a World Series going on, and it's a damn good one. As much as I hate the Yankees, I have to respect them. They are a tough, competitive bunch. Even when they were down 6-1 in he 7th inning, I kept watching because they are never out of a ball game. And sure enough, they made it interesting in the end. Sure, they are the best team money can buy and they represent all that is wrong with baseball. But I have to respect how they keep coming at teams and never give up. Plenty of team with swollen payrolls have players who simply collect their zillion dollar paychecks (the Mets come to mind), but the Yankees compete like few teams do (while collecting those paychecks).

If anyone reading this cares, here are some observations:

-FOX coverage of the series continues to be lacking. I find it insulting how they try and make baseball seem like this cool flashy product that will appeal to then Gen X and younger crowd. It's insulting to the older fans and gives no credit to "those young kids" who are treated like the only way they can appreciate baseball is if it's packaged as a video game. Baseball is baseball, and FOX should start treating it as such.

-I tired to tune in the AM radio to listen Joe Morgan and Jon Miller's call of the game, but it came in too fuzzy. Joe Morgan, I think, is the best baseball color analyst out there and it's too bad FOX can't get him on their broadcast team.

-What's up with the cartoons FOX shows at the end of the game drawn in the style of an editorial cartoon? Very strange. Especially one they showed tonight, with a marlin on a fishing pier with a generic Yankee baseball player hanging from the end of his fishing pole. The caption said, "CATCH OF THE DAY!" This makes no fucking sense. Why would a marlin go fishing?

Editorial cartoons only work when they follow an appropriate, parallel logic. For example, it would make sense if they showed a carpetbagger or blue-haired snow bird from the East Coast nabbing a marlin after a Yankee win, because I imagine these people do come down from the East and fish. Which would parallel the Yankees coming from the East Coast and destroying the Marlins. Show me a real-life parallel of a marlin going fishing for people, and then maybe tonight's cartoon makes sense.

DAMN! It pisses me off just thinking how off base this "marlin fishing for people" cartoon is. It's pretentious in that it thinks it's in the spirit of political cartoons and it also really adds absolutely nothing to the FOX coverage except for pissing me off even more.

-It also irks me that FOX feels compelled to show the signing of "America the Beautiful" during the 7th inning stretch. And I think Major League Baseball also should share the blame in this one. By over-exposing us to this song it cheapens what is, in my opinon, the best patriotic song our country has. The whole "tradition" is an offshoot of 9/11, but how many people really are reflecting on that day while this song is being played? It's thoughtless patriotism and it dilutes the memory of 9/11. Nice going FOX.

-And finally, Ugueth Urbina and Pudge Rodriguez kissing each other is weird. Fair enough. They did it after game 1 and they did it at the end of tonight's game. But does FOX really need to show the kiss(es) in slow-motion? And did they need to show a replay of the game 1 kiss before the start of game 2?

You should get the drift of what I'm saying by now. FOX's coverage is really annoying me, and I guess I needed to get that off my chest. But this series has been so enjoyable that not even FOX's shitty bag of tricks (I haven't even mentioned their ridiculous sound effects and "ultra slow-mo" views) can ruin this fall classic.

I Found It

So I have to post it. This passage will make so much more since of you read the post below first. So read "ZAPPED! by Cel-Ray" first and then come back and read this passage from Cannery Row

While he ate his sandwich and sipped his beer, a bit of conversation came back to him. Blaisedell, the poet, had said to him, "You love beer so much. I'll bet some day you'll go in and order a beer milk shake." It was a simple piece of foolery, but it had bothered Doc ever since. He wondered what a beer milk shake would taste like. The idea gagged him but he couldn't let it alone. It cropped up every time he had a glass of beer. Would it curdle the milk? Would you add sugar? It was like a shrimp ice cream. Once the thing got into your head you couldn't forget it. He finished his sandwich and paid Herman. He purposely didn't look at the milk shake machine lined up against the back wall. If a man ordered a beer milk shake, he thought, he'd better do it in a town where he wasn't known. But then, a man with a beard, ordering a beer milk shake in a town where he wasn't known--they might call the police.

-Cannery Row, chapter 17

Good stuff. It's worth digging up a copy and reading the whole chapter (actually the whole, short book). He does indeed end up ordering a beer milk shake in some small town.

ZAPPED! by the Cel-Ray

Tonight I grabbed some take-out from our local eatery, Amie and bought their eggplant parmesan and meat loaf for dinner for Emily and me. With each visit I am feeling more and more fortunate to have this restaurant literally next door to us. Click here for a review of the place. I had fallen in love with Lake Harriet Pizza and forgot just how good a home-cooked meal tastes. I even bought a couple roasted pepper and carmalized onion knishes to top it off. Damn, that was a satisfying meal.

Anyway, as they were assembling my order, I looked in the soda case and thought I'd buy a Diet Coke for the W-I-F-E and then I looked for a drink for myself. I saw a green Dr. Brown's can labled blah blah-ray and figured it was all-natural lemon-lime soda (as if such a thing existed).

Well, you know what's less likely to exist than all-natural, organic pop? Celery Soda, that's what. And that's exactly what I bought. It turns out Cel-Ray isn't short for "100% Organic Lemon-Line Citrus Beverage." Nope. It's just a cute way of saying celery soda. Whoops.


Image from http://www.root-beer.info/others/celray.html


Click here for a very accurate review of what I got myself into, taste-wise. Oddly, this review mentions that this drink is the Nectar of the Jewish Delis. And, what do you know, Amie is a variant of a traditional Jewish deli. What's up with that? I think this sentence from the review sums it up best:

"So try it at least once - buy a can to share among 3 or 4 friends so you can say you drank celery soda then don't buy it again. "

This whole experience reminds of the scene from Cannery Row, when one of the characters, Doc, is driving a long stretch of highway and wonders what a beer milkshake or shrimp ice cream would taste like. Steinbeck could easily have had Doc wondering about celery soda. I've made a beer milkshake (based on the recipe Doc makes up while asking a waitress to make it for him in a small town diner) and now I've accidentally tasted celery soda. I guess all that's left is shrimp ice cream.

A Future Blog Topic

On my side blog, Top Five And Then Some, Joe Theisman came up as I was discussing his career-ending injury. However, Joe is now a commentator for TV; I think he's with ESPN. Anyway, he's kind of annoying, but he has some good takes from time to time. He's most famous as a broadcaster, however, for this gem:

The word "genius" isn't applicable in football. A genius is a guy like Norman Einstein.
-Joe Theisman

I love missteps like this, and sports announcers definitely stumble more than any other journalist group. If I have a free half hour or so, I'll try to compile some more. I feel like the San Francisco Giants used to have (or may still have) a play-by-play guy in the 80s and 90s who was notorious for Yogi Berra type gems on a weekly basis.

And speaking of Yogi, athletes also are very quotable. I remember back when the Spurs stunk in like 1988 and Walter "The Truth" Berry was their best player. He had a few poor shooting nights and when asked what he needed to do get out of his shooting slump he said, "I ain't in no shooting slump. My shots just aren't falling!" Or at least that's how I remember it, or want to remember it.

And there was some basketball player who complained, after a loss, that his team was "too amphibious" on the court. He meant to say ambivalent. This quote is pretty famous and players and coaches from time to time will still joke to sportswriters that they were amphibious on the court. I'll have to look into who said that.

As an aside, I did Google search using the key words "amphibious, ambivalent, and basketball," thinking I'd find a page referencing the quote. The search didn't yield anything except interesting except for a website that lists ten-letter words. Who know all three of my key words had ten letters? Well, who knew, except for the guy who made the list of ten-letter words.

Scary Stuff

And the concept of irony bulldozes its way back onto my blog. Take a look at this article from Salon.com, titled "Keeping dissent invisible". The teaser reads, "How the Secret Service and the White House keep protesters safely out of Bush's sight -- and off TV." Click here to read the story.

According to the report, the Secret Service will force protestors into "Free Speech Zones" whenever President Bush is visiting a city. The irony being that these "Free Speech Zones" are behind chain-linked fences, well out of sight of the President's motorcade and, more importantly, the TV cameras. So I guess that means what the news cameras capture and Bush sees must be the "Speech Free Zone." This sounds like soemthing out of a Vonnegut novel, or 1984.

I hope this story gets legs and makes into the national media, but I'm not holding my breath. As my kindergarten teacher used to always say, "Hope in one hand and shit in the other. See which hand fills up faster."

BEST BLOG EVER!!!!!!!!!!!

Last night, I noticed Emily's deodorant cap boasts, "NO WHITE RESIDUE!" As I was brushing my teeth, I came to realize what was bothering me about this. The all caps proclamation was fine, but what's up with the exclamation point? I would argue that this is the most unnecesarry use of the exclamation point I have ever seen (and believe you me, I've seen plenty of exclamation point abuse!!!!!!!!!!!). I mean, come on, the only text on the entire deodorant cap is "NO WHITE RESIDUE." It's already in capital letters and it's not competing with any other text, boasts, or disclaimers. The emphasis is implied. The exclamation point is pure overkill.

Ever since then, I have been mulling over the following question in my head. Which is abused more:

a) The exclamation point, when used by mediocre writers who know of no other way to score emphasis?

OR

b) Slow-motion climaxes in mediocre sports and action movies?

I just can't decide. I mean, I JUST CAN'T DECIDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Only Two More Shopping Hours Left

Until I'm Thirsty-Two!! It was a historical day some 32 years ago when I entered the world and the sleepy town of Urbana, IL. Mad props to my mom and dad for making me the role model for young and old that I assume I am.

My wife is celebrating my birthday weekend by ditching me and going to Florida for four days. In that case, I am going to watch so much freaking baseball and football over the weekend they'll have to surgically remove the beer cozie from my hand and use a blow torch to get the chip bowl off my burgeoning belly. Oh yeah, and an industrial strength power washer might be needed to hose down the place before Emily returns.

Anyway, I've been meaning to post my thoughts on the sadness that was the Twins vs. Yankees playoff series and maybe even touch on Arnold the Governor. But I don't know if I'll get to that. Regardless, now that the Twins are done, I guess I'll be cheering for the Red Sox. Those readers with extraordinary memory and nothing better to do may remember that I listed the Red Sox as favorite team #3 on my side blog, Top Five and Then Some (speaking of having free time).

Okay now I really am off to bed, for the last time in my life as a 31 year-older.

A Bottle of South Texas in My Belly

I can't believe it. Shiner Bock finally followed me to Minnesota, seven years later. i bought my first six pack over the weekend. I had two for myself, and some other crazed beer mavens had the other four at our party this weekend (what, the two coolers full of Summit wasn't good enough for you Minnesotans?).


Image from http://www.shiner.com/probock.html


Maybe this weekend, hell maybe Thursday night at Deb's "Watch the Twins Make the Yankees Cry Party," I'll do a blind taste test: Shiner Bock vs. Summit Grand. Shiner will win hands down if my taste buds are as nostalgic as I am.

TWINS WIN!! TWINS WIN!!!!!

Fuck the Yankees!!!!!!!!!

Okay, so the Yankees fielding was so awful, the Twins couldn't have lost even if they had wanted to, but a win at Yankee Stadium is a win, no matter how much you want to dress it up or down. Like Tom Kelly (among others) always said: good pitching beats good hitting.

For no one who knows what the hell I'm talking about, click here.

Obviously, this series isn't over by any stretch of the imagination, but DAMN, who's up for a viewing of Hoosiers?

A Day In the Life of a Speech-Language Pathologist

(more competent than I am...)

I just found this link on someone else's blog, http://gastricreflux.blogspot.com/. It's a cool blog worth checking out.

Also worth checking out is Play 20 Questions with the Computer. I often play some form of 20 Questions or another at work. One reason is to help kids who have trouble with spoken grammar or with verbal reasoning issues. I'd be the best damn speech therapist ever if I could get the kids to ask the questions the A.I. program does on the 20 questions website. Damn fool thing got "hockey puck" in 17 questions!

For those who couldn't be there...

Yesterday we had a Welcome to Minnesota party for my brother-in-law and sister-in-law (Emily's sister). I'd also like to think that it was also a party for Hashanah and my niece's birthday. Anyway, the party was smashing success, as Emily's family and our friends continue to have a lot of fun together.

I cannot believe how many people were crammed into our duplex, but we had a great time. I was impressed by the quantities of food and beer that was consumed, yet everyone remained civil. See? Getting older does have its good points!

We had one organized activity: a pub quiz. The British and Irish bars around town have these weekly or monthly pub quizzes and I think they are a lot of fun. I've been to only two but had a great time. So, I tried to replicate the magic and came up with my own 25 questions to ask the partygoers.

If you weren't there, below are the questions I asked. People were in teams of 2-4 people. The winning team got 17 of the 25 questions right. Personally, I think I did a good job since all questions were answered correctly by at least one group AND were missed by at least one group. Those of you that attened our gathering can let me know what you thought. I had fun, I just don't know if anyone else did...

So here are the questions. If you want to know an anser just ask me (or ask the good (and extremely rich) people over at Google.

Now that Wesley Clark has entered the Democrtic run for President, who was the last general to run for President?

What is the term for the wide body of water where a river meets a sea, and fresh and salt water mix?

What professional sports team won its league title the same year Emily and Mike began dating (1999) and then the same year they got married (2003)?

What movie had the famous line "What we have here is a failure to communicate?"

What event in American history spawned the phrase "yellow journalism"?

What sculptor created/designed the giant cherry and spoon om the Mpls Sculpture Garden?

What band's self-titled 1958 debut album included the hit "Tom Dooley"?

The high-brow term "pray to Dionysis" is slang for what low-brow act?

Who said, "I have not yet begun to fight."?

What was the name of Thomas Edison's lab in New Jersey?

What American author wrote the Snopes trilogy?

Among the voting age population, which state had the highest voter turnout in 2000, Minnesota, Alaska, Arizona, Connecticut, or Oregon?

What is the largest lake in the United States that does not share its waters with another county?

Which one of the following people was not a member of The Outsiders cast and crew? Tom Cruise, Francis Ford Coppola, Rob Lowe, Patrick Swaze, or Judd Nelson?

What non-disco band wrote the disco hit "I Was Made For Loving You"?

What literary character, a Herman Melville bureaucrat, is famous for repeatedly saying, "I would prefer not to."

"Yoda" is a Weird Al spoof of what song (written in 1970)?

Which of the following has never been a professional sports team in Minnesota: Lumber Barons, Vixens, Millers, or Arctic Blast?

What movie did Nicholas Cage first appear in?

What movie's sound track includes "Cups and Cakes," "Hell Hole," "Big Bottom," and "Sex Farm"?

Lake Powell, the man-made lake on the Colorado River, is infamous and controversial. Whom is it named for and what is he famous for?

What was the Beatles first #1 song in the US?

After the sun, what is the closest star (or body of stars) to Earth?

What Twin Cities highway was once known as Lilac Way?

What treat is traditionally eaten during Rosh Hashana to celebrate a sweet New Year?

WIN TWINS!!!

I have the greatest wife ever. Ben Affleck can keep or dump J-Lo, I don't care. And sure, the newlyweds, Gabe and Rachel make a great couple. However, Emily is pretty amazing. She bought tickets to the Twins/Yankees playoff series for my birthday! This would be like me buying her seats to, I don't know, Oprah in Minneapolis and then going with her.

So we may not have front-row seats, like we did last time we saw the Twins play the Yankees (and people threw trash and hot dogs at Chuck Knoblauch). In fact we'll be closer, much closer to the Metrodome roof than the field, but that's okay. The atmosphere should be amazing. Roger Clemens pitches games three for the fucking Yankees. Clemens vs. Kyle Losche. YIKES. Well, Kyle will 40,000+ screaming fans supporting him (and we'll be two of them), so let's hope that will be enough to get the Twins to at least game 4.

WIN TWINS!!!!!!!!

The Poorest Use of "Ironic" Since...

Alanis Morissette first complained of rain on a wedding day. Or since five minutes ago when some jackass talked about something being "ironical." As you can tell, this may be my snobbiest post to date.

Pro athletes are easy to pick on because they often get in over their heads when feeling pressure to sound articulate. And I like Matthew LeCroy, the Twins closest thing to a slugger. Still, I can't let him off the hook for what you're about to read. Consider it a game of Where's Waldo, only we'll call it "Find the Irony."

I cut and pasted this from Sunday's Minneapolis Star-Tribune. Click here for the whole story.

From LeCroy powers Twins to easy victory by Jim Souhan (published September 21, 2003). The link is http://www.startribune.com/stories/509/4109425.html

LeCroy knows he provides righthanded power for a team that craves that element in its lineup. Recently, sitting in the Twins' dugout, LeCroy called his playing-time predicament "ironic."

"Coming into this year, I really didn't know for sure if I was going to be the DH or not," LeCroy said. "Then I realized that I wasn't going to be that guy, and I had to change my goals and aspirations and figure out what my role was going to be.

"I just kept working. I think I can hit. I need to be given an opportunity, and fortunately for me, I stayed focused, and right now I have that opportunity.

"I need to take advantage of it."

Where's the irony? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?

Paging Mick Golden

The elusive Mick Golden surafced for a nanosecond to e-mailed me, saying he too was having difficulty reaching the Top Five blog (just like Sarah H. was having problems). Then he discovered the source of the problem. The problem is with the internet explorer. So Mick Golden, what is the solution here? Please, without revealing your manicured and protected identify, enlighten me and Sarah H. on any solution. You are one mysterious bastard Mick Golden!!!!!

Talk A Mile In Someone Else's Shoes

Over the weekend I partially lost my voice. Tomorrow I see a kid at 8:30 a.m. who used to have vocal nodules from a combination of too much shouting and too many allergies. Since I can't do anything about the allergies, I had to work on his shouting. In fact, I did what I could prevent him from raising his voice, especially when it was on the fritz.

SIDEBAR
Out of curiosity, I went to Merriam-Webster.com to check out the etimology of "on the fritz." Its origin is unknown. More research is needed for this one.

Okay, end sidebar. So when you have a fragile voice you are supposed to drink tons of water, never whisper, and obviously avoid using and raising your voice. I now know how hard it is to do this.

So the irony isn't lost on me. Tomorrow, this eight year-old is coming for the last time because he taught himself not to shout. His voice is a little hoarse and breathy, but it sounds like his nodules are gone. Good enough for an eight year-old who doesn't sing for a living. Meanwhile, my voice is going to sound like it's coming out of my ass. Why? Because over the last 72 hours I have been talking 75% of the time (waking hours only, I hope), not drinking enough water, and have been straining my voice to speak in noisy environments. Or simply raising my voice because I'm too lazy to go into the next room to talk to my boss (we often shout at each other from office-to-office during breaks).

Bottom line is I'm learning the value of the parenting maxim that used to drive me crazy a child, that I will embrace as an adult: Do as I say, not as I do.

Let's Give 'Em Something to Blog About II

I've started a second blog. A much simpler one to write. It's just a series of top five and top ten lists. I spend a lot of my spare time at work (or during dull games of /s/ blend Go Fish) compiling "best" and "worst" lists.

The problem is, then I get fixated on them and spend all day modifying them. So check out my new blog and your input will help me modify these lists until they have reached perfection. So check it out (please) by clicking here.

It goes without saying that the movie High Fidelity has a special place in my heart. It's a damn good movie and it sure hits close to home, but it's not going to make into my top five movie list.

The High Fidelity website is also worth checking out. It has a literally endless list of top five lists that are fun to go through. To go to it, click here.

By the way, that "literally" usage was for your benefit Sarah H. And it was a damn legal use of the word, if'n you ask me and my boyz Johnny Merriam and Eddie Webster.

Sorry to Disappoint...

But no corn cob fucking here! Disturbed? Confused? Read on...

One of the coolest things about having a site meter on this blog is it shows me the referring page of each visitor. For example, if someone comes over by clicking on Emily's blog, site meter will list her blog as the referring page.

The cool part is it reveals all the Google seaches that refer people to this page. For example, when I posted about the "Jobs for John" website, I got about two visits a day for awhile by people doing a "jobs for John" search on Google.

Sometimes, Google will refer people to my blog because several unrelated blog entries have the key words they entered into their Google search. for example, I got about four hits for people looking for a strippers in Baton Rogue for a bachelor party. Why? Because I blogged one day about the Baton Rogue bus boycott and then three days later about not wanting strippers at my bachelor party.

But the best is the freak who entered the Google search "corn cob fucking" and arrived at my web page ( Click here to see Site meter's report about this referral). Be it a meathead looking for strippers, or a freak head looking for some good old fashioned corn cob fucking, I'm sure people who use Google are pretty disappointed when they get to my blog.

And for cripes sake. I always figured the interenet had something for everyone, no matter how obscure, brilliant, or deviant his or her needs. But corn cob fucking? I don't know. I think the guy might have exhausted the web's capabilities with that one...

Let's Give 'em Something to Blog About

Ol' boy Matt the Hatt is at it again. For those of you who don't know, the Hatt and I go way back to age maybe 6. he is remarkable for many things. One of them being he may be the only San Antonio native who cannot name more than one Spur on last year's NBA championship team. In fact, if pressed, I don't think he could name more than one Spur EVER. Not that this is a bad thing. Just very unique.

But the Hatt does know robots. He has a new blog, Robot Alert, which I will add on the left in the permanent link section. I am often confused as to what the hell is going on that blog, and I figure it's because the Hatt is way smarter than I am. Anyway, Mr. Hatt be livin' in England and has no idea the love/obsession Emily and I have for robots.

That's What I'm Talking About!!!

Okay, so maybe it's unclear as to whether or not Strong Bad is a Spurs fan. But it's obvious Ken and Laurie Graff feel about the Silver and Black! Click here for more details. The maize maze is outside of Hondo, TX if anyone wants to road trip out there.

Image from "http://www.cornfieldmaze.com/sites.php?ID=&username=txhondo"


How much fun would it be to drop Shaq and Kobe in the middle of the that maze and watch them try to fight there way out of it.

What? What's that you say? I need a life? Well it could be worse. At least I didn't plant a corn field into the Spurs logo!

In the meantime, it may be baseball and football season, but it's never too early for....

GO SPURS GO!!!

I Guess Strong Bad Is A Lakers Fan

The latest Strong Bad e-mail from Homestarrunner.com stands as one of the funniest things I have seen in awhile. And for all the people living in south Texas, there is an added, random, San Antonio reference halfway through. A must see for even the non-Texans of the bunch! Click here to view the e-mail.

It's flash animation, so the faster your internet connection, the better. It's worth the wait, if you have dial-up. Speakers are nice too, but not necesarry.

Invent This Please

Maybe I'm a fool for sharing my ideas for inventions with the world. Sure, maybe I'll be open to ridicule. And it's also possible (just not likely) that some jackass will read my blog (any of the three of you) and say, "Wow! What a great idea!" Then this person makes a million bucks off my idea and I never see a red cent.

Fine with me. I can handle the ridicule and I don't want the money. What I want is the product. I'd much rather supply the idea to someone and then PRESTO, six months later I could buy the product in the store. That beats the hell out of all the patents, investments, and marketing involved in creating and selling my invention.

So, someone, please invent "brie string cheese." I love brie, but I hate how inconvenient it is to eat. I dislike string cheese, but enjoy its convenience. You see where I'm going with this? The convenience of string cheese meets the luxury of brie. Someone invent this now! And while you're at it, an orange that peels as easily as a banana would be nice too.

"Special Ops Sniper Stanley" Has Met His Match

After I posted the link to that ridiculous G.W. Bush war hero doll, I wondered: Who would win in a dual between the GW Action Figure and Sniper Stanley?

Well, it turns out the question was moot. Both would go down in a blaze of glory at the hands of Nancy Pearl, the Librarian Action Figure!

Image from http://www.mcphee.com/laf/


Emily and I heard about Nancy on the radio. Click here to go to Nancy's homepage. Or you can click here to see what we heard on the radio.

Now Emily wants to know how easy and expensive it is to make personalized action figures. Look for Emily the Mini Donut Girl to hit the shelves sometime next fall!

A Dose of My Own Medicine?

Okay, so many people have accused me of "disguising" my voice and leaving voice mails on people's work phones, be it "Rogers In Accoutning," "Peterson in Shipping and Receiving," a telemarkter, or some deranged customer. But as far as all of you know, Rogers is as real as a pink slip. So you better take this guy seriously. Rumor has it he is a real ball buster.

Anyway, to date, I have been duped by a prankster at work once. And that was by a mysterious fellow who goes by the moniker "Mick Golden" and hides out in his suburban enclacve playing Playstation II games he pirated from Japan.

"Mick Golden" called me in a old-man's voice and told me his son was having trouble with the "sh" sound. When I asked him how old his son was, he said "forty-six." We get a lot of weird therapy requests, which I usually pass onto my boss. I was half-way through telling this guy how my boss is just the person to handle this evaluation, when I realized I was succumbing to a dose of my own medicine. "Mick Golden" had got the best of me.

So, my question is this: Has "Mick Golden" or one of his cohorts struck again? As I was leaving work today around 5:30 the phone rang. I answered the call and the following is the closest I can come to remembering the actual exchange.

Me: Hello?

Angry Lady: This is your neighbor. Do you know why I'm calling?

Me: What?

Angry lady: THIS IS YOUR NEIGHBOR!!!

Me: Who?

Angry Lady: YOUR NEIGHBOR!! I SAW YOU TAKE MY NEWSPAPER THIS MORNING!!!

Me: Rrrrrrrright....

Angry Lady: I saw you take it. I saw you take my paper.

Me: Who is this?

Angry Lady: Your neighbor. I saw you take my paper.

Me: Okay we've established all that already. Is this a joke?

Angry Lady: No you took my paper. I need my paper. How will I keep up with the current events? I need to the current events.

That last statement was too ridiculous. I decided I was being toyed with. Even if this wasn't a prank, I realized this lady could not articulate anything beyond a) she was my neighbor, b) I took her paper, and c) she needed the paper.

Either way, it was time to end the call.

Me: Listen, I have to go.

Lady: Hold on I'm gonna have you talk to my husband!

-click-

And there lies my biggest regret. I hung up before the husband got on.

So this is strangest wrong number phone call I have ever participated in. Unless of course, the whole thing was a hoax. Will some crazed phone prankster out there will step forward and take responsibility for the Jerky Boys attack on my workplace? I can't tell you how badly I want this to be a real call. It added a little joy to a very stressful time of the year at work.

And before you guys assume this wasn't a prank or the wrong number let me clear about this: I didn't steal anyone's newspaper this morning. By the way, how dated is my "Jerky Boys" reference? Those guys are soooo 1995!

A (Flash-Animation) Picture Is Worth 1,000 Words

If you're at work, and can't have your computer making talky-talk noises, wait until you get home to check out Mark Fiore's latest cartoon. If you have a dial-up, it's worth the minute or so it will take to download this bad boy. Click here to see for yourself.

��

Is this a joke?"

"Excuse me is this a joke?" Or so says Nigel in This Is Spinal Tap when David's girlfriend thinks the band members should wear a costume fashioned after each individual's zodiac sign (I wish one of the characters was a libra--what would that costume look like?).

Why does this quote come to mind? Click here and see for yourself. Or as John McEnroe once said in a fit of rage, "You cannot be serious!!!"

Child of the Corn

Last weekend Emily and I went to our farm co-op in rural Wisconsin. It's was really cool to see the actual source of all the food we get once a week. Plus I never knew what a broccoli plant looked like, but that's for Emily to blog about.

Anyway, we spent about half the day there, and the lady that runs the farm put us to work, as you can see below. We gathered all our own corn, shucked it, and cooked. We also had to wash our own dishes. It was a true co-op. We had a great time.


You may not be able to tell that I am hauling a wheelbarrow full of corn.

Another tidbit we learned is you can eat the sweet corn raw, straight off the stalk. It was damn good, but even better when cooked. You'd think I'd know this already, seeing as how I spent four years running cross country and track for a college in Iowa. Indeed, I probably ran past 1,000,000 corn stalks in that time. But that was all seed corn. Big hard chunks of seed. Eating a central Iowa corn cob raw would be like eating a molar cob. Not so with sweet corn. It was so sweet and rich, that it tasted pre-buttered.

So after a weekend of eating organic vegetables and free-range beef, I need to counteract all that. What better way than by going to the State Fair for the last two nights! Since we've gone at night, there's not much to do but watch bands, go to the midway, and eat. Most of the exhibits are closed at night.

The first night I had a beer, mini donuts, sausage-on-a-stick (wrapped in bread), and pork chop-on-a-stick for dinner. Last night it was part of Emily's turkey tenderloin on-a-stick, most of her beer, lemonade, and a very mediocre chicken fajita. Take that healthy, organic eating!

By the way, the new food-on-a-sticks that are getting all the buzz is key lime pie on-a-stick and deep fried Twinkie on-a-stick. And the most controversial is the fan the Republican party is handing out: Lies Told by the DFL On-A-Stick. For you non-Minnesotans, DFL is the Democrats (Democratic Farm-Labor party to be exact). The college Republicans were standing in front of th DFL booth, handing the fans out. Classy. Partisan politics is getting very ugly in Minnesota.

For more on the State Fair, including Emily's family competing in the fair, click here.

Zantastic!!!!

My most excellent friends Zander and Julie were in the Twin Cities for about a week. I had such a great time seeing them. It felt as if they had never been gone, the way we were able to pick up where we left off when they moved to Japan a year ago.

The good news is they'll be moving back to Minnesota next summer. Another piece of good news is Zander's good friend Shad and I got back in touch. Another friend (a secretive microchip engineer who goes by the alias "Mick Golden") and I have finally set an attainable goal. We intend to contact Shad so we can all hang out together within the next two weeks.

But we'll see. I invited Shad and his wife to go to the State Fair with us, but they were so fucking indifferent to the proposition that I'm calling off what was a burgeoning friendship. Rot in hell you Fair Haters!!!

But, as per usual, I digress. It was cool to see Zander and "Beautiful" Julie again. Rather than marinate this blog with a bunch of inside jokes (except for an obligatory mention of the Seven Dwarves), I will direct to you to Shad's mobile phone blog. Click here to scroll through his "moblog" and you will come across pictures of Zander and BJ's visit. This includes some pictures of me (and Emily) wearing the gifts Zander and BJ generously gave us (all I gave them was a new nickname for Julie). I also put Shad's two moblogs on the permanent links section in Blognation. Stuck in traffic is a pretty cool idea, I must say.

Maybe Shad's next moblog will be "I HATE THE FAIR," which will just be a bunch of pictures of him giving the finger to fairgoers.

Emily has figured out how we can post our own photos as well. So I hope to add that to my blog soon, starting with some other pics of me, Em, Zander, and BJ.

Grungy Old men

Today when I was running around Lake Calhoun, I ran by an old man who was walking in the other direction. Lake Calhoun is populated moslty with 20somethings: a bunch of musclebound meat heads who threaten my masculinty and rollerblading ex-sorority girls wearing make-up.

Before you accuse me of being a lake bigot, and tell me how it's not cool to stereotype lakes or girls that exercise in make-up, hear me out. There are easily thousands of people a day that go around Calhoun that are exceptions to this rule. And this includes myself and this old guy that I was coming across.


image from http://www.phototour.minneapolis.mn.us/

Anyway, old guys on the lake always catch my eye beause I think it's inspiring to see them still exercising and because they are one of the few men on Lake Calhoun who don't make me look like, well, candyass British royalty.

But what was notable about this guy is he was wearing a Speedo. A real snug one too, I might add. Just walking along with nothing on but his glasses, sandals, and Speedo. I'm not sure if he was who the lasses had in mind when they put their lipstick and rollerblades on this morning, but he certainly caught my attention.

So this brings me to my point in all this. For years, I have been looking forward to, and not dreading, getting old. I'm sure the rest of my 30s, 40s, and ensuing mid-life crisis will be a grand time. Parenthood will shake the foundations of my identity and have some profound maturing and nurturing effect on me.

But that's all the appetizer. I can't wait to be an old fart. If I want to wear my Speedo in public, who's to stop me? I'm an old man! If I want to shout nonsense like "ball five!" at random, who will disagree with me? People will have to respect every action I do, no matter how ludricous it is.

The downside to all this is the dying part. So I need to stay healthy to really maximize those golden years. That's why you'll see me at the YWCA tomorrow working out and then eating a salad for dinner. Between now and then, I'll be fine-tuning my old man skills. Anyone up for whiskey sours for breakfast?

BALL FIVE!!!

Seventeen Shopping Days Until Labor Day

And I still haven't submitted my gift list to the world. So, to the Labor Day Genie, I submit my three wishes:

1. From Wonderfullywacky.com, the Beer Belt.



Image from http://www.wonderfullywacky.com/beerbelt.htm

2. To help me support the troops, our friends at Atlantic Toys are selling Special Ops 'Sniper' Stanley!!! I can't wait to take this guy to work, so the kids and I can play with this bad motherfucker!!!!

Image from http://atlantictoys.safeshopper.com/676/2732.htm?660

3. And how cool would it be to have Mr. T, I mean Sergeant First Class Bosco Barracus team up with 'Sniper' Stanley to kick some Persian Gulf ass?!?!


Image from http://www.dollsandtoysaustralia.com/ateam.html

Sure, the A-Team was famous for its poor marksmanship (remember all that semi-automatic weaponfire that landed at the bad guys' feet?). But 'Sniper' Stanley can more than cover for B.A. Barracus' poor shooting. And then B.A. can go in and put some Bad Attitude hurt on the Iraqis via hand-to-hand combat! Afterwards he can do a sales pitch for 1-800-CALL-ATT.

Imagine: me with a case of Old Milwaukee strapped around my waist, on the banks of Lake Harriet, storming a homespun sand castle with Mr. T and 'Sniper' Stanley. This is going to the the best Labor Day ever, if the LD Genie comes through for me!!!

Damn, I can't think of a better way to support our troops. Well, except for taking action with BringThem Home Now's webpage. A guy who goes by the pseudonym "Mick Golden" sent me the link today and I just heard about this group on the radio last night. The Pentagon spokesperson kind of blew it off as a tiny minority and rambled on about The War On Terror, which somehow includes Iraq. Ugh.

Jackasking A Question

Last night Emily and I went to the lovely suburb of Spring Lake Park, which is a good 25 minute drive from our house. Once there, we had grilled pizza, which, according to Emily, is a new grilling fad. But if you haven't had it yet, I highly recommend trying it out next time you want to grill, but are sick of burgers and brats. To learn more about grilled pizza, click here.

Our friend Rachel was also there and we talked a little bit about her experience at Carlos O'Kelly's with her fiance Gabe. Take the time to read Gabe's blog about his experience at Carlos O'Kelly's by clicking here.

So as Emily and I were drving home, we passed a billboard for Perkins. This made me think two things. First, I wondered why Perkins doesn't have an apostrophe in its name (McDonald's for example, does have an apostrophe). I am considering referring to their name to the Apostrophe Protection Society to see what they think. It's a snooty British site to use if you want to post apostrophe abuse (like the one pictured below).

Picture from "http://www.apostrophe.fsnet.co.uk/examples_4.htm"


The second thing I thought was "Damn, there are a lot of shitty restaurants in the world." This includes chains like Carlos O'Kelly's and Perkins and holes in the wall like Wok and Roll (which Emily and I used to live next to) and a terrible sandwich shop I once went to in Dubuque, Iowa. But I am sure someone out there says, "Man I love those soggy subs from Dubuque's Shittiest Sub Shop! And someone out there, as you read this, is jonesing for a Perkins taco salad. I can hear them say "It's crazy! You can eat the bowl!"

So then I wondered, out of all restaurants and chains that are out there, what percentage of them can be classified by at least one person as his or her favorite restaurant? I should ammend that question to say, at least in his/her top five (it's hard to just settle on one restaurant, I think). I'd say the number is pretty high, maybe above 50%.

Then when we got home, we watched Sleepless In Seattle, a very mediocre movie. We have Netflix, which makes it very easy to rent movies that you only kind of want to see (as evidenced by this most recent rental). It's nice not to have worry about mediocrity when you watch a movie.

Anyway, the movie is easily forgotten, yet a nagging thought lingers in my mind... "My horse! My horse! My kingdom for a horse!"

Oh wait, wrong thought. I am sure there is a small town's worth of people out there who love Sleepless In Seattle enough to dub it their favorite movie or put it in their top five. Like restaurants, there are a lot of shitty movies, and yet I bet a high majority stand as someone's favorite. So I am left to wonder, which is the higher number: the percentage of restaurants that make at least one person's top five OR the percentage of movies?

Any ideas?

You Gotta Fight For Your Right...

TO PARTY!!!!!!! Click here to see for yourself. You can't blame the guy for trying. For you non-Texans, Fiesta is a weeklong celebration of Texas independence in March. Consider it a PG-13 Mardi Gras.

Haven't had your fill of Texas oddities? Check this one out: Texas passed a law requiring kids to start the school day off by pledging allegiance to the flag. I know what you're saying, "This is a tired old debate." But the difference here is we're talking about pledging allegiance to the Texas flag. I strongly recommend clicking here to read more. This frivilous law is so easy to ridicule. But I am somewhat ashamed to admit my initial, primal reaction is to think it's cool. I guess that Texas pride in me dies hard. Plus it's like one-tenth as long as the federal pledge to Old Glory.

My principal in elementary school had us sing "Texas Our Texas," the state anthem at the start of every school day (to view the lyrics, click here). It wasn't until I went to college in Iowa that I found out that a) this was weird and b) most people don't even know the name state anthem, much less the lyrics. But until today, I never knew Texas had its own Pledge of Allegiance.

image from "http://www.underthings.com/underthings/mus46_lone_star_surf_short.html"

So gentlemen, please removes your hats, and everyone place your right hand over your heart, and look at the flag on your screen and read the italicized pledge.
"Honor the Texas flag; I pledge allegiance to thee, Texas, one and indivisible.".

Kids Say the Darndest Things

I try my best to avoid Bill Cosbyesque cute kids stories. Maybe kids do say the darndest things. But when they don't have age-appropriate expressive language skills, they say the most confusing things. For example, the first kid I saw at work today is four years old. He's sitting at the table and I sit down and ask him how he's doing. He responds with a question of his own.

First thing out of his mouth is "Do Mike live in a sausage?" Before I can even try find the context for his question, I need to do my job: teach him age-appropriate grammar. First I make him ask me if I live in a sausage, but with the correct form of "do." Leaving no stone unturned, I make him ask me again, only this time with the pronoun "you." This takes some time because the kid is really shaky with all the forms of "do," so now he's asking me "Does you live in a sausage?"

The net effect of all this is, once we have ironed out all of his grammar errors, he has now asked me if I live in a sausage seven times (in one form or another). I probe a bit, making sure sausage is the word he means to use. I confirm that by "sausage" he means the Merriam-Webster and pork industry definition of sausage or some 4 year-old definition of sausage, which could actually be "red brick house." But it turns out he means the sausage we eat.

I'm at a loss, so I say, "No. Do you live in a taco?" And he gives this incredulous look like I just asked the dumbest question ever and says without the hint of a smile. "No. We eat tacos. I live in a house." I wanted to say, "No doy you hypocrite. Why don't you shut up and go make me a house made out of sausage." But I refrained and got on with the lesson plan. Even so, and even if it is with someone 27 younger than I am, this stands as the strangest conversations I've ever had. I am still looking for the context.


Last September and October, another kid used to ask me at least five times a session, "You go to monster cave?" I wanted to say, "What the hell are you talking about?" but told him time and time again, "No, I don't go to the monster cave. Do you?" But he kept asking, so there had to be a context. Then on Halloween Eve, I was driving home on Shepard Road for the 40th time since Labor Day. I therefore drove past the "Spooky World Haunted House" for the 40th time and BINGO, it hit me, that was the monster cave. Context found.

But do I live in a sausage? I don't think I'll find that context to that question on the roadside of Shepard Road.

The Actor with a Curl

What actor or actress has been in the widest range of great to awful movies?

I posed this question to some friend who were over for dinner Thursday night (specifically, the world's laziest blogger L-Dawg and her husband). And since then I haven't been able to stop thinking of nominations.

I was never satisfied with my original nominations, which included:

Dustin Hoffman (but he was in only one truly horrible movie, Ishtar)
John Candy (no disrespect for the dead, here)
Tommy Lee Jones (was anyone else besides me subjected to Volcano?
Bruce Willis (punished for Armageddon and Last Man Standing).
Mel Gibson (Conspiracy Theory GOOD, The Patriot BAD).
Chevy Chase (Fletch vs. Fletch Lives and Vacation vs. all the other Vacation movies).

The problem with this list is it involves actors who are tied to either an action or comedy drama (Dustin Hoffman being the exception). So I asked the question on Saturday when I was going for a long run with some friends of mine from MDRA. And one of my friends said right away, Nicholas Cage. And I can't think of a better nomination.





From the comic and visual masterpiece Raising Arizona to the shit-fest that was Con-Air and all the movies in between, Nicholas Cage has done it all. Not just from great to terrible, but from drama to action to comedy. Click here to see for yourself. When it comes to versatility in being in great and shitty movies and all the shades of grey in between, the Lifetime Achievement Oscar Award goes to Nicholas Cage. Well done Nick!


And I know what many of you are thinking. What about the ladies? To be honest I can't think of any that match the men's ability to be in shitty and great movies. Maybe ladies are just a lot more consistent with their decisions. Are there any other actresses or actors that also deserve mention (or that can unseat Nicholas Cage)?

God Bless Texas (please)

And may the Lord have mercy on her soul.

"When there's something strange, in the rotunda, who you gonna call....."
QUORUM BUSTERS!!!!





Tom DeLay and those SOB Republicans are trying to gerrymander Texas into pizza pie again. I have no idea how this will play in the national media, but I am outraged at what is happening in the Texas senate. It is embrassing for the state, but more importantly, it has got to be embarassing for Republicans. I know in my heart that if the Dems were pulling a redistricting stunt like this, I'd be very embarassed. In the meantime, it is fascinating to see this unfold. I think democracy and the constitution will once again collide in the courts.

Molly Ivins wrote an excellent piece about the whole sitaution that appeared in today's Minneapolis Star-Tribune but I haven't found it posted anywhere else yet. I will post a link to her column when it becomes available. The gist of it is that what is happening in Texas is basically a 5th grade playground bullying battle. And the Dems are actually entitled to whine "NO FAIR!!!" in this instance.

For instant gratification, check out Mark Fiore's animated rant against Tom DeLay by clicking here. Speaking of DeLay, he needs a nickname. Why does the Sugarland Shithead always come to mind?

Minnesota politics are shifting and changing. But even when the state had an ex-professional wrestler for a governor, it had a long way to go before it caught up to the zaniness that goes on Texas. First the Ardmore 51 and now the Texas 11. Yet somehow California gets all the press as the Land of Crazy Politics.

Putting a Face on 3,000,000 People

The One Man March

There was a surprising headline ( and subsequent story) in the St. Paul Pioneer Press today: State Could Go to Bush in '04. The second paragraph of the story reads as follows: A new analysis by a prominent political scientist suggests that of all the states that voted for Al Gore in 2000, Minnesota is the most likely to go for Bush next year.

Fair enough. Whether or not one group's analysis (no matter how prominent) for an election that is more than a year away deserves to be on the front page deserves a blog of its own. But I will say two things:

1. This story's headline was above-the-fold and above the story President Keeps Lid on Parts of 9/11 Study. This second story was below-the-fold. The Pioneer-Press endorsed Bush in 2000. Connect those dots however you want to. In all fairness the Minneapolis Star-Tribune (which endorsed Gore in 2000) ran this story 4th from the top on its webpage (the Pioneer-Press ran it 3rd from the top). I did not see a copy of today's Star-Tribune, so I don't where the story was layout-wise.

2. The fact that this story is above-the-fold news speaks volumes about the way journalists gets sucked into covering national current events as a political horse race.

Okay, moving on. Today two parts of Bush's economic team (Treasury Secretary John Snow and Commerce Secretary Don Evans) were in town to pump up the "economic stimulus program" they are so proud of. It has received the appropriate amount of play from the news outlets here. But what hasn't received any coverage is John and his website JobforJohn.com. It's a great site. John just lost his job and is now following Snow and Evans on their tour of the Midwest, trying to talk to them and show anybody who is paying attention the reality of the economy.

Image from JobforJohn.com

It's too bad this guy isn't getting more press. I would have e-mailed his story to MPR and all the local TV and newspaper outlets, but I didn't find out about his site until today. In fact, I found it posted on another web forum. Mark Fiore, who has some of the best animated cartoons on the web also has an outstanding web forum, which posted JobforJohn.com.

Anyway, check-out JobforJohn.com. You'll be glad you did. I hope the guy gets a job. But in the meantime, he's doing a great job putting a face on the Bush tax cuts and economy. Too bad so few people are seeing it. The exchange he has with Snow at the end is particularly well-written; so read all the way to the end!

It's Not Trash and It's Not Art

I love, and am becoming obsessed with what the homepage for Found Magazine has to offer. Go check it out!

I don't know if we're all guilty of this, but I have always been fascinated by anonymous scraps of paper (notes and drawings) and photos I come across in my daily life. I regularly scan the ATM statements that lie cluttered around the machine, from the people that used the ATM before I did. I know, they're just slips of the paper and I'll never see the lives or people attached to these account balances. But I'm always a little giddy when a read an account balance of $8,803.34 (why would anyone have that much money in their checking account?) or when I find one that says $1.54 (I know how that feels).

And that's just the tip of the iceberg. It feels like striking gold when I come across a grocery list or to-do list left behind on the bus, parking lot, or street. In college a group of us even found a love letter in the parking lot of the grocery store! Once some pictures of some guys hanging out on their porch, drinking Coors, fell out of a book I was pricing when I worked at a used college text book store.

And now there is a magazine solely devoted to this pursuit! It's funny: at work, when I'm cleaning up the waiting room at the end of the day, I'll come across all sorts of to-do and grocery lists left behind by families. But that's just garbage as far as I'm concerned. I know the author of the list and that somehow removes the magic of the find. There's no gold in the mundane details of the lives of people we know (although the spicier dirt is always interesting).

The fun part in boring to slightly odd details is when there is no context or person behind these facts. Then your imagination gets to build your own person and history behind the list. It's fun to imagine all the different possibilities why someone went to the grocery store to buy "Soft Batch cookies, toy soldiers, razors, and three gallons of ketchup" (I made that list up, by the way).

Anyway, take a look at Found Magazine. It can be guiltlessly addictive, I think, because each found item is a short story in and of itself just waiting to be written (by a more creative and skilled writer than I am). I think it's a great concept. You can even send them your own finds.

By the way, the Minneapolis Star-Tribune (Strib) ran a story about Found Magazune today. The problem is to access their stories, you have to register your e-mail and pertinent information with them. What a pain! If you still want to jump through the Strib's on-line hoops (or already have), click here to access the story.

Red Storm Rising

Today at work my 10 a.m. appointment hadn't arrived on time. The kid I was waiting for is named John, and is mildly obsessed with what I eat for breakfast. So I took advantage of the extra five minutes by filling my water bottle up at the water fountain.

As I'm filling up I hear John and his family coming up the stairs, which are right behind the water fountain. So I turn around to tell say hi to John, his sisters, and babysitter, when all of a sudden his oldest sister decides now is as good a time as any to start throwing up massively. I don't know why it didn't occur to her (or all the other eight year olds in the world) to maybe plan ahead and try to barf outside, ten seconds before she came in. She had to know she wasn't feeling to well. But she risked it, I guess, and hoped the sickness would pass.

She gambled and lost.

I don't know if John is as obsessed with what his sister eats for breakfast as he is with my dining habits. But it's safe to say he didn't have to ask her what she ate for breakfast today. He got to see for himself.

Raspberries. Bright red raspberries. And now there was bright red raspberry vomit all over the steps, walls, and first floor of our office building. Again, and I cannot emphasize this enough: a little foresight from Barfing Sister would have made a lot of people's life a lot easier. So while John and I played Go Fish in my office for half an hour, his babysitter had to mop up raspberry puke. I never knew I'd view playing Go Fish for 23904238th time in my life as a godsend.

Anyway, as Raspberry Shortcake was unloading her breakfast, I really could only think, "Damn that's a lot of red." Beyond the splotches of red, I couldn't process much else. We're talking buckets of red, here, enough to overflow a washing machine.



Many summers ago I went to a Red Sox game and sat in the Fenway bleachers. Beers were enjoyed, so I made my requisite trip to the bathroom in the 6th inning. As I was minding my own business, despite peeing with 30 other crazed Red Sox fans, my peeing neighbor decided to welcome me to the urinal neighborhood. He slapped me on the back and said, "Shiiiiiiiit! How is it that 32 ounces of beer can always make 32 gallons of piss?" When I suggested that perhaps he, like me, had just a bit more than 32 ounces of beer to drink, he said something like "Fuckin' A you got that right!" and put his hand up for a high five, mid-urination. So I took him up on his high-five offer, and felt pretty embrassed afterwards. But you know what alchohol does to people's high five inhibitions; I guess I'm kind of a high-five whore that way.

But I digress. My point is I am reminded of that exchange when I think of this morning's events. How can 32 raspberries lead to a laundry-load of barf?

Da Bears

As I mentioned in the previous post, one of the greatest parts of our honeymoon was the trip to Sand Island. What I didn't mention is that one of the other Apostle Islands we were considering visiting was deemed off-limits due to an infestation of those pesky black bears.

I just assumed that these bears got to these islands by walking across the lake when it was frozen. But it turns out that black bears are really good swimmers.

It just so happens that awhile back a friend of mine (who prefers to remain anonymous, but let's just say we have a first and middle name in common) also visited Bayfield and the Apostle Islands. He also figured that the bears walked across the ice to get the islands. When my friend ("Mike D") asked the park ranger if this was indeed the case, she looked at him like he was an idiot. She treated him like he had just asked her the dumbest question ever. Well, better him than me, because I would have asked the same question!

So the challenege for all you Encyclopedia Browns out there is this: why is "Mike D's" question so ludicrous and the waste of a park ranger's time?

And in the meantime, how about those swimming bears!

Back to the Real World

and all of its humidity. Emily and I had a great time on Madeline Island, for four nights, and then in Bayfield for two.


While on Madeline Island we were in a sort of news and time vaccuum, which was great. We stayed in a private lodge (pictured below) at the Woods Manor, complete with a deck, a porch, and a bear skin on the wall.

Oh yeah, and we also had our own personal hot tub. The cool thing about the hot tub is it was supplied with well water (which happened to smell like sulphur) and the hot water heater in our cabin was good for maybe five minutes of hot water. So after filling up the tub for the requisite twenty minutes, we were left with a tub full of ice cold water that smelled like rotten eggs. Real fucking romatic. Needless to say, save for the five seconds when I dipped my foot in the water and said, "This sucks," the hot tub did not get any use.

But we did have a great time at the Woods Manor and on Madeline Island. I read three books, played a lot of tennis, and of course explored the area. Time really stands still there. Everyone rides bikes or walks everywhere and there isn't even the scent of newsprint, let alone a TV on the island.

But the highlight for me was when we took a boat to Sand Island. The shoreline was beautiful and the lighthouse and all of its history was all an added bonus.




Our honeymoon is also very historic in that it is likely the first honeymoon where the newlyweds slept in separate beds. For the last two nights, while we were in Bayfield (we stayed at The Bayfield Inn), we had a room with two double beds. Seeing as how Emily and I aren't exactly midgets, we knew we wouldn't be comforatable enough to sleep in the same bed. Also, cable TV is a novelty to us, and we hadn't seen or heard any news in days, so I was glued to CNN and SportsCenter (Emily preferred the shows Trading Spaces and some make-over show).

So there we were, on our honeymoon, self-sequestered in separate beds watching the news. It was pretty funny, but I don't know how romantic it was. I consider it practice for when we're a couple of blue hairs. Even so, we loved the Bayfield Inn, with its deck restaurant and views of Lake Superior. And we also liked that we didn't smell like sulphur after taking a shower.


Anyway, this is a sort-of overview of our trip. I'll add more details as time goes on. Now I'm off to help clean up the mess we left behind in the wake of the wedding and all of its awesome gifts. It looks like a tornado of Crate and Barrel boxes hit our house while we were gone. There's certainly worse problems to have.

Gone Fishin'

Wow. I cannot tell you how happy I am right now! Emily and I had a great time at our wedding and can only hope others did as well. So many things went on behind the scenes and there so many people to thanks, starting with our families.

So now our blogs will be taking a week off as Emily and I head for our two-stage honeymoon (we'll be on an island in Lake Superior for a four days and at the cottage for the rest).

I cannot tell you how great it is to be Mike right now. I hope everyone who was a part of our wedding was happy. And if I could change anything out of my control it would be that guys like Zandypants, Julie, Matt the Hatt, and his new wife could have been there. We'll have to send you guys pictures.

MIKE AND EM 4ever!!!!!!

HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!!!

I Am Getting Fucking Married

I really wish I had something profound to say, since in a few days I will be married to (duh) Emily. I'm obviously wicked excited and can't wait to be officially spending the rest of my life with her.

For me, this is as close as I'll come to walking in the moon. How am I supposed to capture all of my excitement and thoughts, and the work and planning we (mostly Emily) have done in one blog. All I can say is

Ohmyfuckinggod how cool is this?!?!?!?!

It's all so overwhelming, in a great way, especially with all the family and friends coming in to visit.





All I can think of is the headline from The Onion's Our Dumb Century, for when man first walked on the moon. Click here to see the full page. And then imagine me in a tuxedo in front of Emily, instead of Neil Armstrong on the moon. And then replace the word "on the moon" with "marrying Emily," and that's exactly how I feel.

Holymotheroffuckinggod this rox!!!!!

Proud to be an American

Happy Birthday USA, you old windbag!!!! It's been so easy to rip on this country for its behaviors over the past two years, okay two hundred years. Sometimes I feel like the two grumpy old guys from the Muppet Show, Statler and Waldorf, the way I criticize the way things are going, from the sidelines, and not getting more involved to make change.


Sure we've done some shitty things in the past (slavery and genocide come to mind) and King George II's policy of bullying and globalization is emabrassing and scary. But as far as empire and world powers go, we traditionally have acutally been a pretty responsible world leader, relative to the likes of Rome, Spain, and England. And best of all, we get to speak out.

And I guess that's one of my favorite about being an American: the right to dissent, protest, vote, and write in an effort to create change, all within the confines of the law. I guess I should take advantage of this luxury more.

And of course, let's not forget all the wealth we have here. As much as the liberal elite (and I am one of them, I assume) bitch about this country, the fact is this is by far the world's wealthiest nation. And no matter how liberal and enlightened you are, you probably take for granted the wealth you enjoy on a daily basis (I know I do). When I was living off of a cook's wages in rural Iowa, I was still probably one of the wealthiest people in the world.

Wealth aside, though, I LOVE the freedom of press in this country. This doesn't mean I accept Michael Powell's and the FCC's actions over the past year or the Republican dominance in the media. It means I don't take for granted the letters to the editor I can freely write or the annual check I give to Minnesota Public Radio. I can also go and visit all the websites I list as links in Blognation.

Speaking of MPR, Midday is by far and away my favorite show. If I could meet one person in journalism, it would the host Garry Eichten. I'd love to take him to Dulano's for a beer or three, get a little tipsy with him, and shoot the shit for an evening.

But I digress (as per usual). The topic of today's Midday was "What it means to be an American." It was neat to hear the perspective of recent immigrants who called in. And (as per usual) I realized what being an American means to me well after the show was over (maybe next year I can call in). So instead of telling Garry and his cult following, I will have to tell you.

To me, being an American is being a citizen. Take advantage of our freedom and wealth. It's so easy to sit on the left and act like Statler and Waldorf, and verbally crap on this country. But what does that accomplish? It's easy to hate this country for its McDonaldsization and foregin policy ( sorry Don--despite what you think, we are in a quagmire). But what is great about our country is, collectively, we have the tools for change. All we need is the motivation.

I think every year I will make a July 4th Resolution--a Citizen Resolution. What does it take to be a citizen? Live the platitude: "Think Globally. Act Locally." Get in touch with not only current events, but this nation's past. See the good and the bad we have done--and all the grey nuances in between. Don't just vote. Get behind the candidate you are going to vote for. These are all things I need to either do more of, or start doing. I'm not sure what my Inaugural Citizen's Resolution will be yet, but I'll have an answer before the weekend is over.

At work, one of my cornerstones of therapy when working with adult stutterers is to quit dwelling on the negative. In short, quit bitching and start acting. Maybe it's time I did the same as a citizen.

Happy Birthday everybody!!!!!!!

Home Improvements

I finally fixed my link to Emily's Reuben Sandwich blog, so you can access it from my site now (on the left, under Blognation). I also added some more links. The top half are blogs or websites of friends. Well, with one exception, I don't know the author of the World's Dullest Blog, ( Matt the Hatt sent me the link), but why does an abridged James Joyce come to mind? The home half of the links are websites I recommend. I really enjoy the Mark Fiore cartoons, but beware, they are very addicitve. More links to follow.

Cooking Microwave Popcorn in a Campfire

There is a Bloggod, and she is vengeful. I talk shit about the weather and BLAM! twelve hours later a lightning bolt takes out our cable for the cable modem. I brag about my immune system and ZAP! I'm sick for an entire week. So no more predictions, lest I bring the wrath of the Bloggod.

So now it's back to the olden days: blogging and surfing with a dial-up modem, heating up left-overs on the stove, Betamax movies, using a pay phone, beating a woman over the head with my club and dragging her into my cave...

I found at least one story worth checking out, even if these pages took 2340234 seconds to load. Salon.com has a pretty interesting article about Howard Dean and the success he's had with blogging and the internet in general. It was a little distressing to see that jackass Joe Liberman leading the Dems field and Dean only getting 6%, but it's early and I'm hopeful. I think once people hear Dean speak they'll be taken by him. He is Mr. Soundbite.

A friend of mine once said the way the common man and the left will take this country back is through the internet. if Dean gives the Kerrys and Liebermans a run for their money, it may happen sooner than we think!

Also check out Sr. Gabe Chavez' most recent blog. He has some great pictures in his post, along with a great story. It's all just so, uh, great.

Well that's it for now. Happy 4th everybody! I got my 1st paycheck today since Bush's tax cuts went through. My take home pay went up $10.00!!! Thanks King George II! I love seeing that gizanillion dollar tax cut trickle down to me $10 at a time! USA! USA! USA!