I was up early this morning to finish working on the lawn and went to Dunkin Donuts afterwards. All the Krispy Kreme franchises out here went bankrupt so options are limited. Anywho, I drive up to the little microphone...
"I'd like 4 glazed and 2 cinnamon apple-filled, please"
(No these are not all for me...dad likes donuts, too.)
"I'm sorry, sir, but we're out."
"Pardon me?"
"We're out of glazed and cinnamon apple-filled. Would you like us to make you some?"
"No, not really. I don't want donuts so bad that I would wait in the parking lot for 20 minutes. I would, however, like to kick you in the shins repeatedly. Please walk around to my car door."
Alright, so I didn't say that last line. But I thought it VERY loudly and angrily.
Are you kidding me? OUT of glazed??? That's like a grocery store saying they're out of milk, but they've got a cow in the back if I'd like to wait. I'm already unhappy about being up earlier than I should be only to stir up my allergies again (and keep in mind I've not yet ingested my morning caffeine)...now they go and tell me they're out?
Krispy Kreme never ran out of glazed donuts. Bastards.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
Friday, September 29, 2006
Firsts
A recently-experienced "first prompted the lists, so without further ado....
Top 5 Best "Firsts"
5. First Fire Team. In the military, the next largest "unit" above an individual Marine/Soldier is a fire team - 4 people, each with a specific function, that move together and work as a whole. I was the fire team leader of the Alpha 1 (First squad, first team) team, and we were the A1 team for a reason - we kicked tail . We complimented each other's strengths and weaknesses, and if they ever needed anything from supplies to answers, I did what I could to get them. It was, by far, the most enjoyable part about being in the Corps. Ooh Rah!
4. My First Convention. The first con I volunteered at was GenCon SoCal 03, aka RelaxaCon. This is where I met the entire Decipher crew, Josh, Hayes, Justin, Vinson, Denise, Dawn, Robbie (aka RobbieRules), Frank, and a slew of other players and peeps. I know it was slower than your average con but I had a freakin' awesome time, and this set the stage for everything else to come.
3. My First Dog. Benjamin, a beige Jack Russell/poodle mix. Smart, fiesty, delightfully spiteful. Lived 17 years before he finally had to be put down. Not a fun day at all. I haven't had another dog since, but I can't wait until that does happen!
2. My First Appartment. Most people love the day the graduated or their first car. Eh. For me, the day I was finally on my own was the best day in the world. True freedom (but not from bills, of course ;-) )!
1. Marriage. I don't call it a first because so far it's the only. But yes, I appreciated everything about being married, short as it was - even the arguments!
And now the worsts....
5. First loss of a friend to death. This wasn't Stuart as many might think. Rather, it was my 4th Grade teacher, Mrs. Nash. She brought in 7th and 8th grade texts for me to work from, particularly in math, and I still consistently scored in the 80% range in tests. Then she died and all advanced work ceased. The new teacher wouldn't provide it, and the following years I was just put in the advanced classes at the same grade level. Much boredom. Had Mrs. Nash lived through that year, who knows where/how I would have finished in school. That's not to say that I turned out bad by any means - I think I just would have had a bit of a different educational experience.
4. First time my best friend dated a girl I was interested. I was in San Diego for a few days with my family to celebrate my mother's birthday. He knew I was intersted in this girl and was going to be pursuing her upon my return. Knowing my plans, he pre-empted all that and asked her out while I was away, so I return to those two "dating." Not only that, but I had to observe them with each other during a New Year's Eve/Day trip to California and Knott's Berry Farm. Not my idea of fun. He and I don't always see eye to eye and that's fine, but that move nearly ended our friendship. We chose to work through it and I'm glad we did but thems was some rough few months.
3. First time I got drunk. Oh sweet mercy, I never want to feel that again. Millenium party, 12/31/99. My friend and I were drinking at his house party, then he sat next to me and we just started going glass for glass, beer for beer. As it turns out we downed 72 ozs of beer and jungle juice in about 72 minutes. He heaved for a day and a half. I drove to work at least hung over (and possibly even still drunk tho I shudder at that thought) to check on Y2K compliance, pulling into the parking lot RIGHT BEHIND MY BOSS. Then I got to spend the next three hours staring at fluorescent lights and computer screens. Here's a snippet of a conversation with a military/co-worker buddy of mine once I arrived...
David - "You look like hell man!"
Me - "Ugh...what fixes this? Make it go away. Please. Please."
David - "Nope. Nothing makes it go away other than time and sleep. Get some water in you, man...you're gonna need it."
2. First argument with my sister. I absolutely adore my sister and loved being her big brother. I took her everywhere when she was too young too drive, kicked her ex-boyfriends' asses when they hurt her, and listened to her when she cried. We went to baseball games, and I came to her softball games to watch her catch. When ever she needed me, I was there. The day finally came when I needed her. Instead, she decided to watch a taped episode of ER. I left her apartment absolutely pissed off. As I was pulling out of the parking lot she called on my cellphone to apologize and the argument ensued. I never...NEVER argued with my sister. Ever. I had no idea how to react. I was basically useless/catatonic the next day until we finally worked it out. We've never argued like that since.
1. Divorce. It's well in the past now...there's no bitterness and I've moved on. In fact, it was probably the most amicable divorce two people could have. But that was by far the most difficult event I've had to work through. I hope not to experience it again.
Top 5 Best "Firsts"
5. First Fire Team. In the military, the next largest "unit" above an individual Marine/Soldier is a fire team - 4 people, each with a specific function, that move together and work as a whole. I was the fire team leader of the Alpha 1 (First squad, first team) team, and we were the A1 team for a reason - we kicked tail . We complimented each other's strengths and weaknesses, and if they ever needed anything from supplies to answers, I did what I could to get them. It was, by far, the most enjoyable part about being in the Corps. Ooh Rah!
4. My First Convention. The first con I volunteered at was GenCon SoCal 03, aka RelaxaCon. This is where I met the entire Decipher crew, Josh, Hayes, Justin, Vinson, Denise, Dawn, Robbie (aka RobbieRules), Frank, and a slew of other players and peeps. I know it was slower than your average con but I had a freakin' awesome time, and this set the stage for everything else to come.
3. My First Dog. Benjamin, a beige Jack Russell/poodle mix. Smart, fiesty, delightfully spiteful. Lived 17 years before he finally had to be put down. Not a fun day at all. I haven't had another dog since, but I can't wait until that does happen!
2. My First Appartment. Most people love the day the graduated or their first car. Eh. For me, the day I was finally on my own was the best day in the world. True freedom (but not from bills, of course ;-) )!
1. Marriage. I don't call it a first because so far it's the only. But yes, I appreciated everything about being married, short as it was - even the arguments!
And now the worsts....
5. First loss of a friend to death. This wasn't Stuart as many might think. Rather, it was my 4th Grade teacher, Mrs. Nash. She brought in 7th and 8th grade texts for me to work from, particularly in math, and I still consistently scored in the 80% range in tests. Then she died and all advanced work ceased. The new teacher wouldn't provide it, and the following years I was just put in the advanced classes at the same grade level. Much boredom. Had Mrs. Nash lived through that year, who knows where/how I would have finished in school. That's not to say that I turned out bad by any means - I think I just would have had a bit of a different educational experience.
4. First time my best friend dated a girl I was interested. I was in San Diego for a few days with my family to celebrate my mother's birthday. He knew I was intersted in this girl and was going to be pursuing her upon my return. Knowing my plans, he pre-empted all that and asked her out while I was away, so I return to those two "dating." Not only that, but I had to observe them with each other during a New Year's Eve/Day trip to California and Knott's Berry Farm. Not my idea of fun. He and I don't always see eye to eye and that's fine, but that move nearly ended our friendship. We chose to work through it and I'm glad we did but thems was some rough few months.
3. First time I got drunk. Oh sweet mercy, I never want to feel that again. Millenium party, 12/31/99. My friend and I were drinking at his house party, then he sat next to me and we just started going glass for glass, beer for beer. As it turns out we downed 72 ozs of beer and jungle juice in about 72 minutes. He heaved for a day and a half. I drove to work at least hung over (and possibly even still drunk tho I shudder at that thought) to check on Y2K compliance, pulling into the parking lot RIGHT BEHIND MY BOSS. Then I got to spend the next three hours staring at fluorescent lights and computer screens. Here's a snippet of a conversation with a military/co-worker buddy of mine once I arrived...
David - "You look like hell man!"
Me - "Ugh...what fixes this? Make it go away. Please. Please."
David - "Nope. Nothing makes it go away other than time and sleep. Get some water in you, man...you're gonna need it."
2. First argument with my sister. I absolutely adore my sister and loved being her big brother. I took her everywhere when she was too young too drive, kicked her ex-boyfriends' asses when they hurt her, and listened to her when she cried. We went to baseball games, and I came to her softball games to watch her catch. When ever she needed me, I was there. The day finally came when I needed her. Instead, she decided to watch a taped episode of ER. I left her apartment absolutely pissed off. As I was pulling out of the parking lot she called on my cellphone to apologize and the argument ensued. I never...NEVER argued with my sister. Ever. I had no idea how to react. I was basically useless/catatonic the next day until we finally worked it out. We've never argued like that since.
1. Divorce. It's well in the past now...there's no bitterness and I've moved on. In fact, it was probably the most amicable divorce two people could have. But that was by far the most difficult event I've had to work through. I hope not to experience it again.
Monday, September 25, 2006
The Birthday
It was very simple and rather uneventful day coupled with a simple and rather fantastic evening.
Who would have thought the best gifts I'd get are a small wooden box and some conversation about children?
Who would have thought the best gifts I'd get are a small wooden box and some conversation about children?
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Strange Weekend
So, in the course of three days...
- My team loses a fundraising penny war at work by a mere $.31 per person.
- The D-backs lose a game to a walk off grand slam in the bottom of the 9th.
- ASU gets tore up from the floor up.
- Michigan wins
- I went to the Cardinals game only to watch them hand St. Louis the game on a silver platter (evidently we wanted to lose it more).
- My garage door broke. I spent a good part of Saturday morning trying to fix it until I realized that the axle that drives the chain gear snapped. That I can't fix, and it's under warrantee anyway.
- I mowed the dirt in the back yard causing my allergies to somewhat erupt compared to their mildly irriated state from the day before.
And yet I still count it a good weekend. I enjoyed myself and relaxed, and I guess that's the best you can hope for. Any extra goodness beyond that is just bonus.
On a completely unrelated note, Chris Simms ruptured his spleen in the game sometime today, left for a while to vomit a bit, took an IV or two, then went back to finish the game before going to the hospital for a likely season-ending spleenectomy. Chris, you may have been a shoddy NFL quarterback, but coming back like that is all man. Or all stupid (which would still qualify as all man).
Now me, if I'm vomiting up parts of my organs, I'm likely to sit out the next series of downs. Or maybe pass out, depending on the organ.
Damn, I'm tired. I think I inhaled too much dirt and dust today (for real...mowing was awful) and my lungs are just irritated. Time for rest.
- My team loses a fundraising penny war at work by a mere $.31 per person.
- The D-backs lose a game to a walk off grand slam in the bottom of the 9th.
- ASU gets tore up from the floor up.
- Michigan wins
- I went to the Cardinals game only to watch them hand St. Louis the game on a silver platter (evidently we wanted to lose it more).
- My garage door broke. I spent a good part of Saturday morning trying to fix it until I realized that the axle that drives the chain gear snapped. That I can't fix, and it's under warrantee anyway.
- I mowed the dirt in the back yard causing my allergies to somewhat erupt compared to their mildly irriated state from the day before.
And yet I still count it a good weekend. I enjoyed myself and relaxed, and I guess that's the best you can hope for. Any extra goodness beyond that is just bonus.
On a completely unrelated note, Chris Simms ruptured his spleen in the game sometime today, left for a while to vomit a bit, took an IV or two, then went back to finish the game before going to the hospital for a likely season-ending spleenectomy. Chris, you may have been a shoddy NFL quarterback, but coming back like that is all man. Or all stupid (which would still qualify as all man).
Now me, if I'm vomiting up parts of my organs, I'm likely to sit out the next series of downs. Or maybe pass out, depending on the organ.
Damn, I'm tired. I think I inhaled too much dirt and dust today (for real...mowing was awful) and my lungs are just irritated. Time for rest.
Bonds
Ever try to glue two perfectly smooth surfaces together? A bond will be formed by the glue, but without any crevaces or nooks to hold on to the bond is weak at best. Scrape and scuff up the surfaces before you apply the glue, however, and the bond formed is exceedingly more durable.
What a beautiful irony...because of some imperfections, rough spots, and weaknesses, bonds can be made stronger.
What a beautiful irony...because of some imperfections, rough spots, and weaknesses, bonds can be made stronger.
Saturday, September 23, 2006
Roller Coasters
As the title of my blog indicates, I tend to prefer being in position to exert control over a situation. Note that I didn't say "in control" of a situation - I'm not what I would call a control freak. I do lean that way, though, and and want to be able to at least influence situations, be it directly or indirectly. That's probably why roller coasters appeal to me so much - I have to yield control to gravity and steel, trapped in a vehicle that goes from about 0-5 to about 60-85 mph in a matter of seconds. I couldn't steer that contraption or slow it down if I tried. The feeling of raw acceleration combined with the forces of gravity is a freakin' rush.
What's nearly paralyzing, though, is the slow, steep ride up the initial hill. Notch after notch, the chain drive rachets the train up the hill creating this infernal racket hearlding in your imminent desent until it pushes and pulls you to the summit, at which point you remain momentarily suspended at the apex - just long enough for you to look around, then look down and think to yourself "Oh, shit" (in a much more exlamatory fashion, of course)...
Welcome to my morning Monday, September 18th. I read in an email at work, "We have a lot to discuss." In a subsequent email it was determined we'd talk about it later that day.
Click click click click click click click up the hill we go, and so the ride begins.
Conversations that start with some form of "We have a lot to discuss," are just so rarely good or fun, and this one wasn't likely to be much different. I pretty much knew the general content of what needed dicussed, but I also knew that conversation wouldn't happen for hours. Hours of wondering, pondering, worrying, stewing, concerns brewing, practicing, rehearsing, rehashing...preparing. Hours of steep incline. Hours of being dragged up the hill. Then just a little higher, until finally we were at the apex...
Oh, shit....
And then the natural forces of the conversation finally took over. For five hours. And man, was it a ride! Dips and drops and turns and corkscrews and loops, one after another; and while the content of the conversation wasn't fun by any means, by the time the ride came to an end, I looked back on it with a smile (and a yawn because I was dog ass tired).
What's nearly paralyzing, though, is the slow, steep ride up the initial hill. Notch after notch, the chain drive rachets the train up the hill creating this infernal racket hearlding in your imminent desent until it pushes and pulls you to the summit, at which point you remain momentarily suspended at the apex - just long enough for you to look around, then look down and think to yourself "Oh, shit" (in a much more exlamatory fashion, of course)...
Welcome to my morning Monday, September 18th. I read in an email at work, "We have a lot to discuss." In a subsequent email it was determined we'd talk about it later that day.
Click click click click click click click up the hill we go, and so the ride begins.
Conversations that start with some form of "We have a lot to discuss," are just so rarely good or fun, and this one wasn't likely to be much different. I pretty much knew the general content of what needed dicussed, but I also knew that conversation wouldn't happen for hours. Hours of wondering, pondering, worrying, stewing, concerns brewing, practicing, rehearsing, rehashing...preparing. Hours of steep incline. Hours of being dragged up the hill. Then just a little higher, until finally we were at the apex...
Oh, shit....
And then the natural forces of the conversation finally took over. For five hours. And man, was it a ride! Dips and drops and turns and corkscrews and loops, one after another; and while the content of the conversation wasn't fun by any means, by the time the ride came to an end, I looked back on it with a smile (and a yawn because I was dog ass tired).
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
There are days
There are days you just don't want to go to work.
I don't want to go to work until February, although I dare say that might cause complications to my continued employment, so I go.
*sigh*
I don't want to go to work until February, although I dare say that might cause complications to my continued employment, so I go.
*sigh*
Saturday, September 16, 2006
It cuts like a knife...
A significant portion of what I do at work is "coaching." I review people's performances, highlight the good, take a look at some of the weaknesses, and discuss ideas on how improvements might be made. Not only do I do this at work, but it's something I've done for a large portion of my life. I obviously did such thigns as a teacher. I helped people as an RA and as a youth leader. And when I was a coach on various volleyball teams.
I've spent a lot of my life watching others, telling them what they're doing wrong, and helping them fix it. As long as someone in this line of work does the same for themself, it's not a bad gig.
Enter the disconnect.
I generally monitor myself pretty damn well and am keenly aware of my status in a good many things. Sometimes, though, I'll focus on other things/people so much that I stop monitoring me. This inevitably leads to not goodness, and that's happened recently. Three times in the past three days I've been told by others whom I care about and respect that I should maybe listen to myself and follow one of the tips I give others. The first two times it was conveyed in a rather casual manner, but clearly I didn't get the point because it took a third person to throw some of my own words back in my face before it finally sunk in. Here's a general paraphrase...
"You once said I should do X, and yet you're not even doing it yourself."
It seems to me there's a word to describe that...yup, it's called HYPOCRACY.
*OUCH*
I can't hardly describe how uncomfortable and humbling it is to be faced with the reality that I've been living such hypocracy for a little while, but it's the truth and truth hurts for a reason. It cuts like a knife through all the nonsense and reveals what is. But if my friends and loved ones hadn't spoken this truth to me and I didn't see it on my own, how could I fix what needed to be fixed?
To those that tried to help me see that something was awry, you have my gratitude and sincere thanks for not being afraid to say what needed said. And to the one that didn't hesitate to use my own words to call me on the carpet, thank you the most. You may really have been mad at me, but I know you did it because you care and I appreciate it.
I've spent a lot of my life watching others, telling them what they're doing wrong, and helping them fix it. As long as someone in this line of work does the same for themself, it's not a bad gig.
Enter the disconnect.
I generally monitor myself pretty damn well and am keenly aware of my status in a good many things. Sometimes, though, I'll focus on other things/people so much that I stop monitoring me. This inevitably leads to not goodness, and that's happened recently. Three times in the past three days I've been told by others whom I care about and respect that I should maybe listen to myself and follow one of the tips I give others. The first two times it was conveyed in a rather casual manner, but clearly I didn't get the point because it took a third person to throw some of my own words back in my face before it finally sunk in. Here's a general paraphrase...
"You once said I should do X, and yet you're not even doing it yourself."
It seems to me there's a word to describe that...yup, it's called HYPOCRACY.
*OUCH*
I can't hardly describe how uncomfortable and humbling it is to be faced with the reality that I've been living such hypocracy for a little while, but it's the truth and truth hurts for a reason. It cuts like a knife through all the nonsense and reveals what is. But if my friends and loved ones hadn't spoken this truth to me and I didn't see it on my own, how could I fix what needed to be fixed?
To those that tried to help me see that something was awry, you have my gratitude and sincere thanks for not being afraid to say what needed said. And to the one that didn't hesitate to use my own words to call me on the carpet, thank you the most. You may really have been mad at me, but I know you did it because you care and I appreciate it.
Hungry
Yesterday I was so frustrated with how things went during the day that I barely ate. My entire intake consisted of a cup of coffee, a twinkee, three pieces of chocolate, a coke, and some pringles.
This morning I awake along with my temporarily forgotten appetite. Grrrumble. Bring me some yummeh food now, all of you!!!
This morning I awake along with my temporarily forgotten appetite. Grrrumble. Bring me some yummeh food now, all of you!!!
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Gatorade
How come the University of Michigan's football team doesn't drink gatorade during the games?
On September 11th and the American Flag
I was a bit busy yesterday so this post comes one day late. My fallen comrades will forgive me, I'm sure.
This is our generation's JFK. I was driving to work when I heard the news on the radio, and at first I didn't believe it. I honestly thought it was like an Orson Wells-type broadcast. Ha ha. Except it wasn't. And then I turned around and went back home to all my friends at school, joining them as their disbelief was slapped in the face with live, incontrevertable video proof of what was happening.
Jesus, what was happening?
Not long after that, everyone became a patriot. And not long after that, the American capitalistic machine geared up to feed the new addiction - flags. Everywhere...EVERYWHERE...there were American flags. At first it was a sincere display of grief, pride, honor, and identity. Then it became commercial, like Christmas in October but worse, and the symbol was largely bastardized for a time. Some of these folks might as well have printed the stars in a dollar sign and slapped me in the face with it.
I can handle someone burning the flag. While I may disagree with the display, I served my country for your right to raise it or burn it as you choose. Just don't fuck with what my flag and yours represents - freedom, not dollars.
Next time you see an American flag, just take a moment...just a moment...and apreciate the simple fact that you have the freedom and ability to stand there and support it, speak out against it, or attempt to change it as you see fit. And also apreciate the folks, past and present that have served our country to further those causes.
This is our generation's JFK. I was driving to work when I heard the news on the radio, and at first I didn't believe it. I honestly thought it was like an Orson Wells-type broadcast. Ha ha. Except it wasn't. And then I turned around and went back home to all my friends at school, joining them as their disbelief was slapped in the face with live, incontrevertable video proof of what was happening.
Jesus, what was happening?
Not long after that, everyone became a patriot. And not long after that, the American capitalistic machine geared up to feed the new addiction - flags. Everywhere...EVERYWHERE...there were American flags. At first it was a sincere display of grief, pride, honor, and identity. Then it became commercial, like Christmas in October but worse, and the symbol was largely bastardized for a time. Some of these folks might as well have printed the stars in a dollar sign and slapped me in the face with it.
I can handle someone burning the flag. While I may disagree with the display, I served my country for your right to raise it or burn it as you choose. Just don't fuck with what my flag and yours represents - freedom, not dollars.
Next time you see an American flag, just take a moment...just a moment...and apreciate the simple fact that you have the freedom and ability to stand there and support it, speak out against it, or attempt to change it as you see fit. And also apreciate the folks, past and present that have served our country to further those causes.
All in favor of lap dances, say "Aye!"
I hate politics, and party politics in particular. I didn't know I hated it until I went to Boys State and was elected Supreme Court Justice (seminars were boring as hell, but in the evening it was nothing but pizza, poker, and carousing with the college girls on NAU's campus during the summer), but I learned quickly that I hate politics. But I do strongly believe in voting, so I do.
Anywho, as some of you may know, Jenna Jameson put up a strip club in a suburb of Phoenix. The city didn't really want the business or the notoriety so they tried to ban strip clubs. That didn't go so well, so they decided that they would just ban lap dances instead. Jameson, her entourage, and the scads of lap dance fans that attend ASU said they didn't like that idea, either, and they were willing to collect signatures and take it to the polls. And that they did. Today, Scottsdale voters are determining whether or not they want lap dances to remain legal.
If you'd like to read about Prop 401, aka Boobgate, click here.
While I do hate politics, this whole vote has me thinking...
- Is it really fair, or even legal, to have Jenna Jameson's name tied to any ballot issue? There are some guys that, if they know a porn star's breasts are backing an issue, they're going to vote for it. It wouldn't matter if the issue was mandating government-assisted suicide for all firstborn males at the age of 25, they'd still vote for it. We'll call this the Jameson Bias.
- Will the Jameson Bias end up attracting more total votes than the Govenor's primary race in the same city? Or, more appropriately, will a higher percentage of registered voters turn out to vote in Scottsdale because of the Jameson Bias (both for and against the issue, as there are some voters/people that are against the bill simply because a porn star's breasts are backing the issue)?
- Many folks are suddenly in outrage over lap dances. Why now? Did you not know about lap dances before? Had you forgotten that you're against them until Jenna Jameson's arrival in your back yard stirred your memory? Did Jenna turn you down for a lap dance? Are you jealous of her breasts?
- One of the common arguments against the business I've heard is that lap dances are degrading to women. This, to me, is a little bit (maybe a lot) ignorant. My first thought is, "How do you know it's degrading to women?" The answers to that question aside, other quesitons come up. Who do you feel it's degrading and why? Is it degrading to you? My mom? Your mom? Our female governor? My multiple lady co-workers? And if it is degrading to all those folks, does your vote represent them or you?
Is it degrading because it violates your religious beliefs? Because you feel that such activities are violations against the beauty of the female body and should therefore be outlawed? Does another woman choosing (omg, does it offend you that she might actually *want* to do this?) to earn her living via moving her body make you feel like less of a person? Are you degraded because that woman is making more money with her body than you are with your mind?
If a woman moving her body next to a man is degrading, is it also degrading when a woman wants to work construction or an assembly line? Or is it only degrading if her shirt is off while she's working?
I realize that the issue is a little deeper than whether or not we have a problem with women making money by shakin' a little T&A, and I think some of the points against the lap dances are particularly valid and poingnant. But what I also think is that we have a situation where "a person is smart, but people are stupid," and on this particular issue we've got a city of idiots full of sound and fury telling their meaningless and largely ignorant tales, signifying nothing. I only hope that voters, whatever they decide, take a moment to actually ponder the issue, why they think the way they do, and make a rational, educated decision. That's all I ask. Is that too much?
When T&A are involved, you're damn right that's too much to ask. Rightly or wrongly, the Jameson Bias trumps reason any day of the week.
Anywho, as some of you may know, Jenna Jameson put up a strip club in a suburb of Phoenix. The city didn't really want the business or the notoriety so they tried to ban strip clubs. That didn't go so well, so they decided that they would just ban lap dances instead. Jameson, her entourage, and the scads of lap dance fans that attend ASU said they didn't like that idea, either, and they were willing to collect signatures and take it to the polls. And that they did. Today, Scottsdale voters are determining whether or not they want lap dances to remain legal.
If you'd like to read about Prop 401, aka Boobgate, click here.
While I do hate politics, this whole vote has me thinking...
- Is it really fair, or even legal, to have Jenna Jameson's name tied to any ballot issue? There are some guys that, if they know a porn star's breasts are backing an issue, they're going to vote for it. It wouldn't matter if the issue was mandating government-assisted suicide for all firstborn males at the age of 25, they'd still vote for it. We'll call this the Jameson Bias.
- Will the Jameson Bias end up attracting more total votes than the Govenor's primary race in the same city? Or, more appropriately, will a higher percentage of registered voters turn out to vote in Scottsdale because of the Jameson Bias (both for and against the issue, as there are some voters/people that are against the bill simply because a porn star's breasts are backing the issue)?
- Many folks are suddenly in outrage over lap dances. Why now? Did you not know about lap dances before? Had you forgotten that you're against them until Jenna Jameson's arrival in your back yard stirred your memory? Did Jenna turn you down for a lap dance? Are you jealous of her breasts?
- One of the common arguments against the business I've heard is that lap dances are degrading to women. This, to me, is a little bit (maybe a lot) ignorant. My first thought is, "How do you know it's degrading to women?" The answers to that question aside, other quesitons come up. Who do you feel it's degrading and why? Is it degrading to you? My mom? Your mom? Our female governor? My multiple lady co-workers? And if it is degrading to all those folks, does your vote represent them or you?
Is it degrading because it violates your religious beliefs? Because you feel that such activities are violations against the beauty of the female body and should therefore be outlawed? Does another woman choosing (omg, does it offend you that she might actually *want* to do this?) to earn her living via moving her body make you feel like less of a person? Are you degraded because that woman is making more money with her body than you are with your mind?
If a woman moving her body next to a man is degrading, is it also degrading when a woman wants to work construction or an assembly line? Or is it only degrading if her shirt is off while she's working?
I realize that the issue is a little deeper than whether or not we have a problem with women making money by shakin' a little T&A, and I think some of the points against the lap dances are particularly valid and poingnant. But what I also think is that we have a situation where "a person is smart, but people are stupid," and on this particular issue we've got a city of idiots full of sound and fury telling their meaningless and largely ignorant tales, signifying nothing. I only hope that voters, whatever they decide, take a moment to actually ponder the issue, why they think the way they do, and make a rational, educated decision. That's all I ask. Is that too much?
When T&A are involved, you're damn right that's too much to ask. Rightly or wrongly, the Jameson Bias trumps reason any day of the week.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Rivals
Some people are rasied to root for specific teams. It's part of who they are and runs in their blood. For me, that's Ohio State and Peoria High School. No matter how thuggish the teams are, I have to root for them.
While some folks are die hard fans of teams, not nearly as many folk are lifelong enemies of their teams' rivals. But me...I am. Oohhhh, yes, I am. There are three teams that should never win a game. Nothing good comes from them, and all demons various other forms of evil eminate from them. These teams are the University of Michigan, the Baltimore Ravens (F you, Art Model! There are still people waiting to kill you back in Cleveland!), and the Cactus Cobras. Yes, that's right. I still hate my old high school's rival team. We don't even play them regularly any more because the district has intentionaly kept Cactus' population lower so that they can continue to dominate a lower division of sports rather than play with the big boys. Bitches. It wouldn't be so bad if their football coach weren't such an idiot, but he is. And this bothers me. In his 20 years of coaching, he's gone to the state championship at least 5 times, maybe more. It wasn't until last year that he finally won one. He FINALLY learned the error of his ways in 2004.
Cactus was playing Moon Valley in the finals and was romping. An absolute ass-whoopin', 35-0 at half. They then proceeded to lose 42-35. I laughed my ass off when I read the headlines. Same ol', same ol', Coach Fetkenheier. Bear in mind, this is also the same idiot that thought it was a good idea to go for it on 4th and 8 on their own 12 yard line when playing us (we sacked'em on the play, then scored on our first play after the change of possession...stick that in your eye, bitches). The next year, his team finally finished the mission and won the whole thing. Why? Because he realized that you use your best athletes on DEFENSE, not as wide receivers. The offense will get you to the big show, but the defense will win it for you. That's a twenty year lesson learned. Good job, coach!
I learned that one when I was seven.
The only reason this comes up is because I read in the paper today that Cactus was finally dethroned from the #1 ranking, getting thumped by another local school, and I could feel this sick, cheesy grin come over my face as I started to laugh. :-) I don't go to the games very often any more, but after following Peoria football for the past seventeen years, I still love seeing the old rival get it handed to them.
While some folks are die hard fans of teams, not nearly as many folk are lifelong enemies of their teams' rivals. But me...I am. Oohhhh, yes, I am. There are three teams that should never win a game. Nothing good comes from them, and all demons various other forms of evil eminate from them. These teams are the University of Michigan, the Baltimore Ravens (F you, Art Model! There are still people waiting to kill you back in Cleveland!), and the Cactus Cobras. Yes, that's right. I still hate my old high school's rival team. We don't even play them regularly any more because the district has intentionaly kept Cactus' population lower so that they can continue to dominate a lower division of sports rather than play with the big boys. Bitches. It wouldn't be so bad if their football coach weren't such an idiot, but he is. And this bothers me. In his 20 years of coaching, he's gone to the state championship at least 5 times, maybe more. It wasn't until last year that he finally won one. He FINALLY learned the error of his ways in 2004.
Cactus was playing Moon Valley in the finals and was romping. An absolute ass-whoopin', 35-0 at half. They then proceeded to lose 42-35. I laughed my ass off when I read the headlines. Same ol', same ol', Coach Fetkenheier. Bear in mind, this is also the same idiot that thought it was a good idea to go for it on 4th and 8 on their own 12 yard line when playing us (we sacked'em on the play, then scored on our first play after the change of possession...stick that in your eye, bitches). The next year, his team finally finished the mission and won the whole thing. Why? Because he realized that you use your best athletes on DEFENSE, not as wide receivers. The offense will get you to the big show, but the defense will win it for you. That's a twenty year lesson learned. Good job, coach!
I learned that one when I was seven.
The only reason this comes up is because I read in the paper today that Cactus was finally dethroned from the #1 ranking, getting thumped by another local school, and I could feel this sick, cheesy grin come over my face as I started to laugh. :-) I don't go to the games very often any more, but after following Peoria football for the past seventeen years, I still love seeing the old rival get it handed to them.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Don't try this at home
I'm only going to say this once. I will not repeat myself, so be sure to pay attention.
Homemade wings are bad.
To my knowledge I've tried homemade wings twice in my lifetime, neither sampling of which were made by me or my family. Both times yielded less than pleasant results. The first time I think I just wasn't used to the spices or something, but this time I know there was definitely something wrong. Both the moms and I have been ill all day. If you can imagine someone taking a large spoon, heating it until it's all red, jamming it in my chest and stirring it about...that's about what it feels like (or so I imagine).
I'm not making this mistake again. I don't care how long you say you've been making them or how good they are, you can keep your damn posion fowl to yourself.
Homemade wings are bad.
To my knowledge I've tried homemade wings twice in my lifetime, neither sampling of which were made by me or my family. Both times yielded less than pleasant results. The first time I think I just wasn't used to the spices or something, but this time I know there was definitely something wrong. Both the moms and I have been ill all day. If you can imagine someone taking a large spoon, heating it until it's all red, jamming it in my chest and stirring it about...that's about what it feels like (or so I imagine).
I'm not making this mistake again. I don't care how long you say you've been making them or how good they are, you can keep your damn posion fowl to yourself.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
Hats
I never used to like hats. In fact, I couldn't stand them. I'd have never made it in little league because I always would have been out of uniform. In the summer before 7th grade, however, events transpired that would change my disdain to fondness. Arena football was coming to the valley in the form of the Arizona Rattlers and I was keenly interested, so I convinced my jr. high youth group leader to get season tickets so that I could go to *one* game (riiight...). The free gift with the season tickets was a Rattlers hat and Roger gave it to me. When he took me to the game I didn't figure it would be right not to wear his gift, awkward as I thought it was, so I sucked it up and wore it. It was only for one night, right? Wellll...he told me that he thought the hat looked cool on me. So did Kelly, this cute blonde that was also in the group. That sealed the deal. Hat stayed.
From then on I've been a fan of hats, and they've been fans of me. Some of them have even become trademarks - people found me in crowds by my hats. Ranging from normal baseball caps to mombosoks to snowboarding hats to golf caps and fedoras, they've been a part of my life. One of my favorites is my old grey golf cap...I liked it so much it even went on formal dates and appeared in my senior pictures...
I continue to wear hats not just because I like them, but because my father has an ongoing bout with skin cancer. A small patch of cancer keeps popping up on his head in the same spot, and other, smaller patches appear all around his skull. The last trip to the dermatologist yielded 19 sores. The docs tell him that part of the reason is because he didn't protect his head when we first moved out here (he's completely bald on top) with sunscreen or a hat. That's not gonna happen to me (at least not for that reason).
In any case, my trademark hat right now is a black pseudo-fedora by Volcom. At work people make comments about it literally every day I wear it, ranging from, "That hat really looks classy...I wish more people would wear hats like that, " to, "You were born to wear that hat," to "MmMmMm...I love it when you wear that hat." People may not know my name, but I guarantee that if you refer to me as "the guy that wears that black hat," people will know who you're talking about.
If people identify me by my hat, that's fine. In fact, I think it's kinda neat. I just hope that I'm remembered by something other than my headwear.
From then on I've been a fan of hats, and they've been fans of me. Some of them have even become trademarks - people found me in crowds by my hats. Ranging from normal baseball caps to mombosoks to snowboarding hats to golf caps and fedoras, they've been a part of my life. One of my favorites is my old grey golf cap...I liked it so much it even went on formal dates and appeared in my senior pictures...
I continue to wear hats not just because I like them, but because my father has an ongoing bout with skin cancer. A small patch of cancer keeps popping up on his head in the same spot, and other, smaller patches appear all around his skull. The last trip to the dermatologist yielded 19 sores. The docs tell him that part of the reason is because he didn't protect his head when we first moved out here (he's completely bald on top) with sunscreen or a hat. That's not gonna happen to me (at least not for that reason).
In any case, my trademark hat right now is a black pseudo-fedora by Volcom. At work people make comments about it literally every day I wear it, ranging from, "That hat really looks classy...I wish more people would wear hats like that, " to, "You were born to wear that hat," to "MmMmMm...I love it when you wear that hat." People may not know my name, but I guarantee that if you refer to me as "the guy that wears that black hat," people will know who you're talking about.
If people identify me by my hat, that's fine. In fact, I think it's kinda neat. I just hope that I'm remembered by something other than my headwear.
Friday, September 01, 2006
Are you ready...
...for some football????
Hellz yeah!!!
...for the holidays????
Ugh, no. Not at all. But they'll be here in the blink of an eye whether I want them to or not (and I don't). If there's any ray of hope in all that, at least we're getting closer to Valentines Day now rather than farther away from it. Gotta have something to look forward to, y'know?
Hellz yeah!!!
...for the holidays????
Ugh, no. Not at all. But they'll be here in the blink of an eye whether I want them to or not (and I don't). If there's any ray of hope in all that, at least we're getting closer to Valentines Day now rather than farther away from it. Gotta have something to look forward to, y'know?
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