Reader's Guide to the 2009 Royals - Part 2

After a brief intermission to delve into the world of foolish ways to waste money, we're back with the second part of the Readers' Guide to the 2009 Royals. Can this sequel, and examination of KC's pitching corps, live up to the near mythical* level reached by the first? Read on to find out.

*Editor's note: In this case, "mythical" is used to relay the fact that a large number of people do not know, nor care, whether this even existed.


Zack Greinke - The most promising pitcher on KC's staff, Greinke is kind of like the Willy Wonka of baseball. (I realize that this sounds a bit nutty (pun semi-intended), but hear me out) Much in the same way Wonka closed his successful chocolate factory after suspecting that spies were stealing his recipes, Greinke shut down his baseball career in 2006. He had been a 20-year-old phenom in 2004, finishing fourth in American League Rookie of the Year voting, but 2005 was not so kind. Greinke led the AL in losses with 17 and allowed more hits than the first few opponents on Mike Tyson's Punch Out. During spring training in 2006, Greinke left the team. (Although not because he thought spies were stealing his chocolate bar recipes.) Greinke's future with the team was uncertain until he chose to begin playing baseball again with the Royals AA minor-league squad. He pitched out of the bullpen for much of 2007, but returned to top form last season. (For the purposes of this lengthy stretch of a comparison, one might say he "re-opened the factory.")

In one last ditch effort to defend my Greinke-Wonka comparison, you can be sure that they're both interesting quotes.

Gil Meche - Meche signed a five-year deal with Kansas City worth $55 million in December 2006. The deal was lambasted for much of the next five months. It was dogged as one of the worst in baseball... Until people realized that he's actually a pretty good pitcher. Meche, and All-Star in 2007, led the Royals to a win over the Red Sox in his first contest wearing Royal blue and has been a solid part of the rotation since then.

Brian Bannister - A thinking man's pitcher, Bannister has become known as a hurler who pays much attention the stats behind the stats. How often does he give up a hit when he has a count of no balls and two strikes against a batter? Which of his pitches gets tagged for home runs the most often? Bannister probably knows it. It's rare for a pitcher to pay attention to these details and his results have been mixed. As a rookie, he won 12 games and had an earned run average (ERA) of just 3.87. (meaning he would allow 3.87 earned runs if he pitched nine innings in a game... You should see how a team scores 87/100 of a run. It's crazy.) Alas, last year, Bannister's ERA ballooned to 5.76.

No matter how Bannister pitches, it's kind of a given that the Royals got the better end of the trade that brought him to KC. Why? Because this is the guy they gave up. Go Banny!

Kyle Davies - According to www.baseballreference.com, the pitcher most similar to Davies is Runelvys Hernandez, a former Royal who started a seemingly promising career in 2002. (It seemed promising enough that a certain Writings author purchased his autograph off eBay, thinking it might be a good investment.) Hernandez proceeded to essentially eat his way out of the majors. (Once listed at 205 lbs., he's now listed at 250 lbs.) But I digress. Davies finished 2008 with a very strong September and could play a key role in KC's rotation in 2009. Also, his actual first name is Hiram. Don't you have to root for someone named Hiram?

Luke Hochevar - The No. 1 overall pick in the 2006 draft, Hochevar is an interesting case because it's hard to figure out who decided to draft him. Former general manager Allard Baird was out the door by the draft, but Dayton Moore - hired just days earlier - did not provide input on the draft. One might not worry about pointing fingers, but the 2008 AL Rookie of the Year Evan Longoria and the 2008 NL Cy Young Award winner Tim Lincecum were both selected within the next nine picks. Sour grapes aside, Hochevar will compete for a spot in KC's starting rotation in 2009, but could also figure into the bullpen puzzle.

Horacio Ramirez - An apparent fan of barbecue, Ramirez played in Kansas City from May-August in 2008, before being traded to the Chicago White Sox. A free agent after the season, Ramirez signed back with the Royals over the off-season. I'm sure it had to be the KC barbecue that brought him back... It certainly would not have had anything to do with the $1.9 million they offered. This southpaw (left-hander for those who might be clueless when it comes to directionally inspired monikers) is expected to compete for a spot in the starting rotation.

Joakim Soria - The owner of the best nickname on the club, the "Mexicutioner" has become one of the top closers in baseball over the last two seasons. His 42 saves ranked second in the AL in 2008. He is also doing his part to bring back the Abe Lincoln-style beard.

Kyle Farnsworth - In what seems to be a case of "even if you can beat 'em, join 'em," Farnsworth signed with KC this off-season. Royals fans might remember Farnsworth as the Tigers' pitcher that went Hulk Hogan on then-Royal Jeremy Affeldt, slamming him to the ground in the midst of a bench-clearing brawl. Despite the fact that advanced numbers seem to show that Farnsworth is an average pitcher, the Royals signed him to a two-year, $9 million deal. I guess good fighters aren't easy to come by.

Ron Mahay - Often, it seems difficult to find much to say about middle relievers. Much like baseball umpires, if they're effective, they're often unnoticed. If they struggle, they're deemed worthless. Mahay is an effective middle reliever. He's also been an extra on a soap opera, according to his Wikipedia page. Either someone out there has entirely too much time and is updating Ron Mahay's page with erroneous information, or we've got ourselves a bit of Hollywood on the KC roster.

Jimmy Gobble - Gobble set a rather dubious team record in 2008, allowing 10 runs in a single inning. He also ended up with a cactus needle stuck in a big toe while in Arizona for spring training 2008. Overall, those two events alone make up for a pretty rough year. Here's hoping 2009 is more like 2007 for this lefty, when he put up a 3.02 ERA.

Doug Waechter - Waechter is yet another player new to the Royals in 2009. New enough that I know extremely little about him.... Crap... (*pulling up Wikipedia*) He played for the Albuquerque Isotopes, a minor league team whose name came direct out of The Simpsons lore. I cannot find any qualms with that. Nevertheless, a decision on whether he is a pitcher or a belly-itcher is currently not available.

Robinson Tejeda - The Royals picked him up mid-season in 2008 and Tejeda exceeded the expectations anyone may have had for him. He could potentially be the second-best reliever in the bullpen.

John Bale - Bale broke his pitching hand last season when he punched a hotel door. I suppose he has Farnsworth's back should any inanimate objects team up with opposing players in a brawl.


With that, you have your 2009 Royals. Now clear your calendar because spring training games begin on Wednesday. (That's "today" for some.)

Public Service Announcement

We break from the regularly scheduled Royals roster rundown* to bring you the following message: neon ground effects are not cool.

*The Writings: Where alliteration matters.

Granted, some might think that neon ground effects are not a topic worth delving into.* Those people are probably also unaware that I once wrote about a conversation I overheard at Burger King. It seems pretty much anything, not matter how common (or pointless), is fair game around here.

*One also might think that I'm not necessarily the person that should be making final judgments on whether or not something is "cool." The fact that I own a Three Dog Night CD, one book with the entire Lord of the Rings series found on the pages inside, and a white t-shirt that has "Go Ceiling" written on it in Sharpie probably serves as good support for your argument.

For those of you that may be unsure of what exactly neon ground effects are, (my imaginary readership is diverse, after all) I'll attempt to explain. Have you ever been driving down a city street in the twilight hours (that means evening or night time here... It does not concern goofy vampire love stories), only to notice that a car driving in the lane next to you seems to have an interesting glow about it? A glow that might make it seem as if the vehicle took a wrong turn and drove through a mutant-firefly breeding ground, resulting in a vibrant color seemingly straight out of a Skittles commercial illuminating the car's underside? If so, you have experienced the topic of the evening first hand.

As you may have guessed by now (and if you haven't, be aware, these Writings are interactive. Yelling out any guesses, questions, comments or concerns you might have as you read is highly encouraged.), I found myself driving next to a car "pimped* up" in such a manner this evening. The road beneath the vehicle was glowing a green that would have made Kermit the Frog seem pale in comparison.

*For those keeping score at home, society has seeming decided that - when used as an adjective to describe something cool (e.g., That car is pimp.) or a verb to describe the process of increasing the snazziness** of something (e.g., My ride is lame, but I would like to pimp it up.) - "pimp" is a good thing. When used as a noun (i.e., My uncle Leon is a pimp.), it's still an illegal occupation. Please refer to this lesson as necessary in order to avoid making any inopportune remarks. (e.g., Hi, boss. Your date is lovely. I never knew you were a pimp.)

**How did "pimp" replace the word "snazzy?" See if that thought keeps you awake tonight...

As I drove past this car, my mind raced as I attempted to conjure up reasons why someone would ever spent hard-earned (or even luckily won) money on such an unnecessary feature. Sure, people buy Christmas lights every year, but those are seasonal and stationary. Are those with neon ground effects just attempting to mobilize holiday cheer and spread it year-round? Are they just folks who tend to be a bit clumsy, continually dropping important things underneath their vehicles at night? It seems the lights would be quite helpful in such situations.

My mind was still scrambling to come up with a legitimate reason for decorating a car's underside as if it were a Budweiser sign when I pulled up to a stoplight next to the offending Camaro. I glanced over again. The street under the vehicle was illuminated so brightly that it looked like a putting green. The car made it seem as if everything it drove over was a miniature golf course. Following suit, the traffic light turned green, and the Camaro drove away. I half expected the clown from Happy Gilmore to appear out of nowhere, bringing the car to a halt. Alas, that didn't happen and I still don't know why anyone would purchase neon ground effects... If it's because they're really big fans of Fast and Furious, may God have mercy on us all.

Readers Guide to the 2009 Royals - Part 1

Although the calendar may not support this statement, Spring is finally here... Well, according to Major League Baseball anyway. Spring Training for all 30 Major League Baseball teams started this week, and with it comes a period of unbridled optimism at The Writings base of operations (i.e., a couch that has its natural floral design discreetly hidden by a slipcover from Target... The Writings: We're all business). With a slate of 162 regular season games approaching, it's an annual tradition for me to get my hopes up about "my team" the Kansas City Royals around this time of year... Unfortunately, in the past it has often been an annual tradition to realize how feeble my hopes were around the end of May each year.

Nevertheless, the Royals have shown improvement as of late, and could potentially be a contender in their division this season - something that hasn't happened since a near-miraculous 2003 season. Do you think "near-miraculous is overstating things? Tony Pena was Manager of the Year. Think again.

I realize that at least a portion of the readership of The Writings doesn't really give a fistful of sunflower seeds about baseball.* You're the same folks who are wondering who the heck Tony Pena is right now and wondering what that statement was even supposed to mean. Alas, this poses a problem. You see, I like baseball. Odds are, I will feel the urge to write about baseball at times during the upcoming season. As a result, I need you to at least develop a passing interest in (or at least a tolerance for) baseball. Otherwise, those baseball posts will go unread, and what's a blog without readers? (If you said, "The Writings," you're close... and a smartass.)

*I also realize it's a pretty big stretch to say The Writings has a "readership" at all. Please, don't hold my delusions against me.

In effort to familiarize you with the names you may be reading later on this year, we're doing a quick (ha, yeah right) rundown of several members of the 2009 Royals. In Part 1 we're covering position players; Part 2 will be pitchers; Part 3 may involve mascots and snack vendors. (Note: Forget you ever heard about Part 3.) Read the list of Royals, commit it to memory, and embrace them as your own. (Or at least pretend to read it while contemplating how many bottlecaps you could balance on your "all the way home" toe, I'll never know the difference.)

Miguel Olivo - A catcher who signed with KC in 2007, Olivo once - as a member of the Florida Marlins - charged a runner that was standing on third base. Olivo took a big swing at the runner, but failed to connect. The same could often be said of Olivo in the batter's box, as he hit 12 home runs last season, but struck out 82 times.

John Buck - The second half of the Royals' catching duo, Buck was part of the trade that saw Carlos Beltran shipped to the Houston Astros in 2004. Not to be outdone by Olivo, Buck has also been involved in fisticuffs at the ballpark. However, Buck took things to another level, sparring with Runelvys Hernandez - the very pitcher that was tossing to him that game.

Mike Jacobs - A slugger in the truest sense, this first baseman hit 32 home runs for Florida last season. He came to KC via trade and is expected to barrage the Kauffman Stadium fountains with a number of batted balls the stadium walls cannot contain. Unfortunately, the term "slugger" does not say much about defense.

Billy Butler - A 22-year-old who has put up remarkable hitting numbers at every level he's played at, one thing Billy hasn't been able to do is find a position. He was drafted as a third baseman, but later moved to the outfield. After some adventures in the land of fly balls, he moved to first base, where he'll play in 2009 (unless he's in the designated hitter spot). The 6-1, 240-pounder has reportedly shown up at Spring Training in the best shape of his young life.

Ross Gload - Mention his name to a Royals fan and, odds are, the word "grit" might come up. For better or for worse, Gload is a gritty player. The type who may not have the most talent, but will be caked in dirt before the game starts and will play wherever you ask him to... Unfortunately, when worded like that, "grit" also seems to describe an old little league teammate of mine that would sit down in the outfield during games and play with the grass.
 
Willie Bloomquist - When signed this past offseason, it seemed Bloomquist - who has played seven of the nine positions on the diamond in his seven-year career - was being brought in as a sort of "supersub" (please note: supersub does not refer to any sort of aquatic vehicle piloted by Superman); as a player to back up all positions. As the season nears, it sounds as if he has a legitimate shot at being the starting second baseman. He's a slick fielder, but has about as much power as an electric toothbrush. Need evidence? He had exactly one more extra-base hit last season than my six-month-old niece.

Alex Gordon - This former Cornhusker came to Kansas City expected to be the "real deal," the "next big thing," and just about every other cliche that refers to something with grand expectations. While Gordon has not ascended to an All-Star caliber level yet, he's shown flashes of such talent. If Kansas City is to become a contender in the future, Gordon is expected to be a big part of that improvement.  

Mike Aviles - The Royals' 2008 Player of the Year, Aviles didn't even make his debut until the end of May. After going 0-3 in his first game, Aviles didn't even see the field again until seven games later. Fortunately for Aviles (and for Royals fans tired of seeing Tony Pena, Jr.'s feeble attempts at swinging the bat) he took control of the starting shortstop job from that point on. Aviles finished fourth in American League Rookie of the Year voting.

David DeJesus - The resident heartthrob for at least one Royals tolerater I know, DeJesus is moving to left field full-time this season after playing centerfield for much of his career. DeJesus is kind of the anti-box of chocolates of the Royals, in that you can be fairly sure of what you're going to get: solid defense, a batting average hovering around .300, and decent run production.

Coco Crisp - The Royal whose name you might expect to see on a cereal box came to Kansas City via trade this offseason. Regarded as an excellent defensive outfielder, Crisp will man centerfield for the Royals and is expected to bat leadoff. Whether or not he'll consider changing his last name to "Cola" is anyone's guess. (You knew some sort of horrible joke playing off his name was coming, but did you expect that one? The Writings: We take pride in cringe-worthy attempts at humor.)

Jose Guillen - While the word "journeyman" may be overused in sports, it fits Guillen like a floppy foam finger. In his 12-year career, Guillen has played for nine different teams. His bat can be a difference-maker when he's hot at the plate (hitting well... this has nothing to do with food lust), but his attitude can be a detriment. Last season, Guillen nearly came to blows with a fan in his home stadium. What this fan may not have been aware of is Guillen's toughness, which is well illustrated by this recent event.

Mark Teahen - The "I can't because I'm going to my grandma's funeral" of baseball, Teahen has been tried about everywhere. He came to KC via the Beltran trade as a third baseman, moved to right field with the arrival of Gordon, left field with the arrival of Guillen, and has also seen time at first base and centerfield. Naturally, this spring he's getting a shot at second base. It may only be a matter of time before he's working as team trainer and part-time color commentator.


Keep an eye out for Part 2... The Pitchers

(insert dramatic musical theme of choice here...)

Does anyone have change for a button?

The title of this post is one of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite television shows. It's also a phrase I may be heard uttering if the economy continues attempting to complete a Triple Lindy. When news came out today that my employer is low on funds and may not be able to pay employees on payday, I wasn't exactly thrilled. The exact words that came out of my mouth may have been some combination of "the," "what," and "(insert profanity not condoned by The Writings here)," but the boggled state of my mind won't allow me to remember the exact phrasing in accurate fashion.

The economy is treating just about everyone like garbage these days. As a result, people everywhere are looking for new ways to make money. If my income will be delayed, it's probably not a bad idea for me to be considering some extra-income options, as well. In film, I have often seen fundraisers where people sell kisses out of wooden booths. Alas, those marketing the smooches are often individuals deemed "attractive" by society's standards. Thus, this option was marked off my list in rather quick fashion.

I have also heard tell of people that earn money by doing things they're actually good at. Their "talents," if you will. (I know it's strange terminology, but stick with me.) Alas, 26+ years has presented me with little in that department, as well. Instead, I have really just developed a long list of work opportunities that I cannot pursue.

Doctor? Nope. I tend to get squeamish around blood.

Lawyer? I'm a bit of a pushover when it comes to arguing. My guess is that a defendant would not appreciate my would-be-patented "You're right, he probably did rob that bank" defense.

Chef? I have set off my smoke alarm when making hamburger helper.

Interpreter? I took two years of Spanish in high school and I'm about as likely to have a meaningful conversation in the language as a lobotomized chimp.

Salesman? I don't even like hearing myself speak... Why should others?

Radio personality? See previous response.

Ice skater? Please, don't get me started...

Reality dating show contestant? I like to maintain what little dignity I do have.

Improv comic? I... can't think of anything to go here.

Spy? Those who stub their toes on a weekly basis probably aren't meant for covert ops.


Okay, that's enough of what I can't do. It's time to figure out what I can do. What are the best opportunities for someone of my precise age, appearance, and intellectual capacity to earn some extra bank? Here's what I've come up with:

- Selling high-fives
It's kind of the cousin of selling kisses, but not as intimate or intrusive. Who doesn't enjoy a good high-five? I think this option will really come play if(/when?) I ever am forced to become a hobo. Some people play a musical instrument for spare change. I will offer up the satisfaction of crisp, skin-stinging high five. For a bit extra, I may even be willing to give low-fives, fist pounds, or complicated handshakes.

- Serving as a hobo-for-hire
 Astute readers will realize that this job again refers to the hobo chapter of my life. (Coming soon?) It seems that people are always hiring clowns or magicians to perform at birthday parties... Guess what? A hobo will be a heck of a lot cheaper. Can the hobo make balloon animals or pull rabbits from hats? If you provide the props, he'll figure it out... Although he gets to keep the rabbit. After all, he's a hobo and meals are hard to come by.*

*If the idea of eating a rabbit upset anyone, we at The Writings apologize. But really, is being eaten that much worse than being stuffed in some sweaty top hat, only to later be pulled out by some guy dressed like Mr. Monopoly?

- Being a Television channel cartographer
For those with televisions (they're the wave of the future), nothing can be as frustrating as not being able to locate a channel you're looking for. No need to fret. Just hire the TV channel cartographer and let him map things out. By sitting on your couch, using your remote, and studying the programs put forth by your television**, the TV channel cartographer will create an illustrated guide laying out how to get to your favorite channels. ***

**Mapping process may take days, or even weeks.

***Illustrated guide may be a Big Chief pad with channel names and numbers written in crayon on the inside.

- Working as a stand-in for "after" pictures in diet ads
As soon as there's a diet plan that advertises losing muscle mass along with fat, I should be set.

- Serving as a confidence booster
Feel like you can't do anything right? Think your life is just one dumb move after another? Hang around me and - by observing a variety of stupid situations I end up in, along with witnessing a level of self-deprecation normally only observed in social disorder experiments - your life won't seem as downtrodden in comparison. A new level of confidence will naturally follow.

... Actually, this kind of sounds like what I'm doing for free right now (whether you realize it or not). If you're reading this, your invoice is in the mail.

... and another thing...

I have never been able to figure out why Sprite, a sponsor of the NBA, insists on continually showing people playing playground basketball in their commercials. Have you ever taken part in a considerable amount of physical activity after downing a bottle of this carbonated lemon-lime beverage? If you have, you know what I'm talking about. If not, give it a shot. Odds are, minutes after you start you will kind of feel as if your stomach is attempting to wage war against the rest of your body. The feeling could probably be compared to having a string of blackcats exploding in your gut*... Good times.

*Please note: The author has never had a string of blackcats (the small fireworks or dark felines) explode in his gut.

If the commercials were interested in showcasing the truth, all of the
basketball players would double over due to stomach pain in the middle
of the game. Instead, the most recent commercial shows a pair of players jumping into each other, seemingly resulting in a strange chemical reaction that turns the players into a mist of Sprite droplets. Some might think this would alarm the players' teammates, leading to a halting of the game to alert the authorities. Instead, the players that have not dissolved into sugary liquid are quick to run over to be "refreshed" by these clouds of Sprite droplets... Yes, the droplets that resulted from the combustion of their friends.

Is Sprite endorsing cannibalism?

Quick hitters

- I drove by a gas station today that had a sign that read, "Yes, we do have a carwash." Believe it or not, I found this odd. It seems that most of the carwashes I have encountered in my life have been somewhat distinguishable. When I encounter places with carwashes, my mind immediately identifies it as such, often leading to a bit of inner monologue that sounds like, "Hey, that's a carwash."* I like to think that most minds are pretty sharp when it comes to identifying carwashes. Thus, it would seem that advertising the service on a sign would be rather moot effort.

*At times, this might be followed by "Hey, My car certainly isn't clean. I should wash my car there."**

**In 99-percent of cases, an excuse not to wash my car follows. Such excuses may come in the form of, "Nah, I did just wash it a few (days/weeks/months) ago," "Nah, I think it's supposed to (rain/snow) (tomorrow/next week/this year)," or "Nah, little smart-alecks in grocery store parking lots have only written 'Wash me' on my back window three times so far."

Unnecessary advertising aside, I have another issue with this sign. I don't want to read answers to questions I'm not asking. I have driven by this gas station on several occasions in my time behind the wheel (that's a car steering wheel... I don't just hang out behind old wagon wheels. I'm saving that for the "hobo period" of my life. It should be an interesting time.), and I have never once thought of running inside to ask the counter-jockey if they indeed had a carwash. What would happen if I took this same, "openly advertising answers to questions no one asks" approach to life? It would be a massive waste of my valuable time***. I can't afford to spend time making signs that read, "Yes, I do have brown hair."

Along with that, my build isn't exactly conducive to carrying around signs all the time. Think how much strength it would take for me to lug around a sign that says, "No, I'm not really doing anything exciting tonight... but Lost is on, so I'll definitely watch that. I'm still trying to figure out what the deal is with Richard Alpert. Why doesn't that guy age? And will all this time traveling end now that John Locke has turned the underground wheel? And what effects might the time travel have on those remaining on the island? And I still can't figure out the smoke monster. Don't even get me started on the whole Christian Shepherd issue... I think he's been there before...," and so on.

***You know, that valuable time spent watching horrible television and then writing stuff no one reads about how awful it is.

- I ended up sitting next to a KU fan at Saturday's "Sunflower Showdown." (Lousy tickets.) Had the Wildcats been able to reign in a victory, this situation wouldn't have been an issue. Alas, such was not the case. As a result, I spent the final seconds of the contest feeling like I was sitting next to someone rooting for Sauron in The Lord of the Rings. (Nerd alert.) It was painful. I can think of a long list of people or things I would rather sit beside than a Jayhawk in the midst of a loss to KU. The list includes: someone that knows nothing about basketball that hasn't showered for a week; a grizzly bear with a taste for human flesh; someone that prefers to tell detailed stories about their most recent trips to the proctologist; and a cloud of nano-robots programmed to destroy skinny individuals with heads seemingly too large for their bodies.

- Word is now spreading that the Atlanta Falcons of the National Football League (that's NFL, for those who struggle with acronyms) are hoping to trade the rights to quarterback Michael Vick who is nearing the end of a prison sentence that resulted from a very unfortunate situation involving dog-fighting. A friend mentioned the other day that the Kansas City Chiefs, the pro football team I back through thick or (mostly) thin, should take a chance on the former Pro Bowl quarterback. There was only one response that crossed my mind: I think KC Wolf might work on his resignation letter if that were to happen.

A pretty stupid story

The following story is fictional. The people and events contained within do not depict any actual person or event... This certainly isn't an attempt by the author to relay an embellished version of an event that actually occurred to him earlier today... Honestly, where do you get these ideas?

---

The light turned red.

Seconds beforehand, cars were zipping up and down the street on the southern edge of Kaw State University like worker bees looking to appease the demands of their queen. Now, the red light had brought it all to a halt. The action had stalled as if life was a game of Super Mario Bros. and someone had hit the pause button. With that, Doug crossed the street.

The sun was bright and this February day was proving unseasonably warm. It was just after lunchtime and the temperature was creeping past 60 degrees. It was an excellent day for a walk. Thus, the fact that Doug had an envelope-enclosed project he needed to take across campus seemed to be a stroke of impeccable luck.

Doug tried to take in all of the beautiful day that he could as he trekked across campus. Although the typical greenery lacked much of its "green" in the midst of winter, the campus still had a certain appeal on this day. As he walked, Doug observed students enjoying the day by having classes outdoors, rollerblading, and even rocking John Mayer riffs on acoustic guitar. Why couldn't all days be this way? The weather was the type that one usually only reads about in sappy nature poems and Doug had escaped the confines of his office. Getting out from behind his desk had been a rare situation for Doug in weeks prior.

Although he sometimes felt he was prone to some combination of rough luck and stupidity, things seemed to be in his favor on this day. He considered running off to buy a lottery ticket just as he arrived at his destination - Cottonwood Hall. Doug whisked through the glass doors at the entrance and, minding the room numbers along the way (thank goodness he had learned to count years earlier), found his way to room 111. All he had to do was deliver this envelope containing some of the morning's work and it was back to the wonder of the outdoors for the return walk to his office. Doug sidled up to the room's entrance and gave the door a rapid tri-knock.

No response.

Doug had noticed through the frosted glass of the office door's window that the room seemed to be cloaked in a darkness that would freak out most cave-dwelling creatures, but he had ignored it. Maybe the inhabitant just had severe light sensitivity...

Doug tried the doorknob.

No luck. The door was locked. Dumbfounded, Doug looked for a mail inbox around the door, but there was none to be found.

At this point, some may have said to themselves, "oh well." They would walk back to their place of business, vowing to deliver the envelope another time. (Perhaps even calling in advance to make sure the receiving party would be present for the delivery.)

Not Doug. Not today. Today, he was motivated. It was as if the spirit of the greatest mailmen to ever sort letters had delivered a priority mail message directly to the depths of his mind. The mail must get through.

Noticing that there were a couple folks in the office across the hall, Doug stepped over to ask if they might be able to pass the envelope along. Unfortunately, even though they worked just across the hall from the intended recipient, those in this office acted as if they had no idea who their neighbor was. What type of place was this? In attempt to be helpful, a young woman suggested he try slipping the envelope under the office door.

Doug glanced at the envelope in his hands. The 9x12-inch paper product was packed so full that the clasp on the back was looking a bit like the belt buckle of someone that refuses to admit they've gained some winter weight. He glanced at the crack of space between the bottom of the door and the floor. There was little clearance. If the envelope were to fit, it would be a pretty tight squeeze.

"The mail must get though." The thought echoed in his head.

Doug kneeled at the base of the door and began sliding the hefty envelope into its new residence. Piece of cake. The envelope met no resistance. It now sat in room 111 and all was well.


... Jumping to conclusions was a nasty habit, and it had worked against Doug in this case. Three-quarters of the envelope did slip through fairly uninhibited. Unfortunately, the top right corner (that's Doug's right, not the door's right... Wait, would the door have a right?) had proven problematic. With most of the envelope now resting comfortably in its darkness-bathed dwelling, one little corner sat stuck underneath the door like Augstus Gloop in the Wonka plumbing system. So much for luck.

Alas, the familiar refrain again echoed. "The mail must get through." At no point did the saying delve into detail about whether fractions of mail would suffice. He doubted it would. This envelope was going to move. Doug pressed hard on the corner of the tan envelope and pushed with the strength of four whole fingers. The power generated was enough. The envelope was forced home. At last, the mail had gotten through.

Pleased with this turn of events, Doug soon discovered that he was not free of burden yet. In sliding the fourth corner into the office, Doug's fingers had followed underneath the door. Now, those digits seemed to be doing their best imitations of the obese envelope they had previously grasped. So much for avoiding stupidity. Droplets of sweat formed on his brow as Doug thought.

The mail had gotten through, but now his fingers were stuck under this wooden door that had served as the most basic form of office security for years. The Postman's Creed had no advice for emergency action in the case of stuck digits.

Lousy mailmen.

Deciding against facing the embarrassment that might come with screaming as if the building was being engulfed in flames, Doug pulled. Hard. He preferred not to be discovered with his fingers caught under this door if the resident of the office returned soon. He pulled again. And again. Oh, the ravages of rough luck and stupidity.

Just as he was trying to figure out the least embarrassing way to explain to coworkers how he had managed to lose four fingers in a trip across campus (Rabid squirrel attack? Mugging by finger-snatchers?), the door released its kung-fu grip.

He was free.

The mail was through, he still had 10 fully operational fingers, and he was headed back outside to the spring-like weather that had taken this winter day hostage. Doug wiped sweat off his brow and took a relaxing deep breath as he stepped outside to be drenched in sunlight. Despite the hiccups in delivering the project, things were good.

Then he noticed that his fingers were bleeding.

This is awkward...

"So, have things been busy today?"

For some reason, that is the only question I can ever think of asking an individual that is cutting my hair.

That's it.

If a conversation is to carry on from that point, I either need some feedback or I require something quirky to take place that I can quip on. (Most likely in a fashion I deem humorous, but others find a bit odd... Such is life.) If these requirements aren't met, my hair is snipped in silence while my inner monologue continually shoots down ideas for new talking points. ("So, do you ever just get sick of hair?"... No, that's stupid... "When did you first realize that you might have a knack for using a pair of clippers?"... Nope, that might come off as offensive... "Which is better: shampoo or conditioner?"... Aaaarrrggghhh!)

This admission is probably not a surprise to anyone that knows me. I have been called many things in my life (including "Doug" on a continual basis by someone who never could seem to pick up on my name... but that's neither here nor there), but "outgoing conversationalist" is not one of them. It seems that words have always come to me a bit more naturally when writing. It's much easier for me to sound eloquent when typing or writing than when pressed to speak "off the cuff."

In many cases, those who prefer to only speak when they have something relevant (or at least something deemed witty) to say are referred to as the "strong, silent type." Alas, that "strong" label has eluded me for all of my 26 years, and "weak, silent type" just doesn't have the same ring to it.

Anyway, the point of all this isn't to simply discuss my social inadequacies... It's to dissect a couple more situations in which the awkward conversations that I am prone to having often present themselves. Hopefully, I am not the only one that struggles to strike up life-emboldening conversation in these spots.

Elevators
"Hi there. How are you today?"

What else can be said in an elevator? You are encountering a stranger, and your face-time with them depends entirely on the number of floors this form of vertical conveyance must travel. Riding up two floors doesn't exactly allow time to get to know a person.

Sure, there's always the option of playing the "ignore them and mind your own business" card, but if you're in for a long ride, prolonged silence can make things even more awkward. Just think, if your elevator happens to get stuck and you're trapped for hours, those first few minutes you spent avoiding eye contact could come back to haunt you. After all, they might have Tic-Tacs to snack on.

If I had to place a wager on it (and if I do, we live in a pretty crazy world), I'd say most of my lifetime rides in the 'vator* have come in hotels. Sadly, the phrase, "So, 12th floor, huh? That must be a pretty good view," can only take you so far.

*Kids, feel free to use this as the new, hip slang. You know you've been longing for something to call an elevator.

I guess if you're riding the elevator at a hospital, you can always try to guess the reason that the other occupant is there visiting. "So, do you know someone that is now appendix free?" or "Let me guess, someone got a severe case of the gout," could both be potential ice breakers, but you're also taking a pretty big risk by digging into visitation motivation. If you hear "oozing," "urinary tract," or "million-to-one shot," you may find yourself wishing you had taken the stairs.


Taxis
As a young child, I flirted with the idea of one day becoming one of the few, the proud, the taxi drivers. Deciding whether or not steering away from that profession was a smart decision is not my verdict to strike, however I do know that most the cabbies that I have experienced in my years since turning my back on that profession have not been lauded for excelling in the art of conversation.

In most cases, their scripts of lines rarely stray from "Where to?," "uh huh," "okay," and "We're here, that'll be (insert overpriced charge here)."*

*I forgot to mention hurried lines of French spoken into a cell phone. Most of the utterances could have been French cursing or making fun of my head (which may or may not be too large for my body) and I wouldn't have known any different... Viva Montreal!

Alas, if you find yourself in a cab, you probably won't be worried about conversation anyway. It's hard to conjure up talking points when you are grasping for something to hold on to as you weave in and out of traffic showing no regard for rules of the road. At times you might even wonder if your driver is a failed stuntman and is attempting to redeem himself by recreating scenes out of movies like The Bourne Identity... There's nothing quite like leaving a tip for a near-death experience.

Lessons Learned From Those Under 20 (pounds)

I spent the weekend visiting some family. This visit included ample time spent with a pug who can be a bit onery* and my ever-growing niece.**

*He is - as far as I know - the only living being (I can't speak for the undead) to complete a "daily double" (loving term in the family for a part of life not so lovely) while serving as passenger in a vehicle I was driving.

**February 2009 winner of The Writings' "Coolest/Cutest 6-month-old alive" award... Quite an accomplishment. Congratulations!

It's only fitting that, although I arrived intending to teach a few things (Who knew that teaching someone to crawl, sit-up, talk, walk, make macaroni and cheese, find Waldo, parallel park, fly a kite, write haiku poetry, and split the atom all in one weekend was beyond my expertise?) to those with developing minds, they instead left me as the one with an abundance of new knowledge.

What lessons can one learn from someone who enjoys eating stray leaves that end up in the house (the dog) and someone who just started on solid foods (mmmmm.... solids) a few weeks ago (not the dog)? Consider the following (and if you cannot distinguish whether any particular lesson was learned from the baby or the dog, you may want to put off the whole parenting thing for awhile):

- When one has recently cut a pair of new teeth, it is best to break them in by continually biting human fingers.*

*The identity of the owner of any fingers in question is somewhat irrelevant. Any fingers will do.

- When venturing into a brisk breeze while on a constitutional, it's best to take advantage of the larger being accompanying you by walking behind them and using them as a shield from the wind.

- The best way to avoid the regular hassles, nuisances, and generally odd occurrences that come with a trip to the local Wal-Mart is by sleeping through the whole trip.

- The utterance of the word "treat" followed by the dispersal of said treat can patch up just about any rift.

- Sometimes nothing is funnier than watching a hand moving back and forth on a blanket.

- All visitors are unwelcome ones until they come through the door. As a result, standard barking procedure will be initiated upon the first ring of any doorbell.

- The tags of orange stuffed bunnies (that may or may not be named after a childhood cafeteria item) are worth studying for minutes on end.

- When someone is sleeping on your couch, it's best to show them you enjoy their presence by jumping on them, walking on them while sniffling and snorting, and then sneezing on their face.

- Exersaucing is worth shouting about.

- The new addition to the family is great, as long as it doesn't get close enough to grab large chunks fur.

- The best way to show your dog how much you love it is by reaching toward it, swinging your little arms wildly, and eventually grabbing chunks of fur.


Who knew one could learn so much from the smallest members of the family? Imagine the lessons that will present themselves once one of the diminutive duo begins to talk.

... (Not the dog.)

They're super?

Despite the fact that the Super Bowl game that was played on Sunday was one of the greatest in the 43-year history of the contest, all some people want to talk about is the commercials. That's right, instead of covering important things like how close the Cardinals were to winning or how strange it was to see Max Weinberg playing drums with Conan O'Brien nowhere in sight, they just want to talk about ads. 

Who am I to argue with them?

This may very well be the first in a series of Writings reviewing the video advertisements aired on Super Bowl Sunday. (It also could be the last in a series... Who am I to try to predict the future?)

Bridgestone: Hot Item
This commercial had a lot of promise... well, in my opinion, anyway. Anytime you can work some House of Pain into an ad, I'm all for it. Unfortunately, it forced me to turn against it 10 seconds in. Sure, it's fun to see the astronauts bouncing in rhythm to some early 90s beats rather than just testing out 3 irons, but Bridgestone ruins it all with the following "fine print" message down toward the bottom of the screen: "Professional driver on closed road. Do not attempt."

Really? We're to the point that we have to include that on an ad featuring a lunar craft? Sure it's a tire commercial, but you're still showing a moon car. I don't think normal "cover our butts" safety warnings apply. Twelve people have walked on the moon, some people don't even know we've been to the moon and yet we have to warn people about the rules of the cratered roads?

Sorry folks, but if you ever somehow end up on the moon - whether it's via NASA space craft, alien abduction, teleportation, or some form of conveyance even Steven Hawking couldn't wrap his mind around - it seems that you aren't allowed to tear around the lunar hills like the Dukes of Hazzard on pep pills. Sure, that moon buggy that you somehow ended up behind the wheel of is a pretty amazing piece of vehicular technology and there's not another being (especially one in a motorized moon vehicle) within approximately 238,855 miles, but you don't want to take any risks. Let's stick to riding the brake and using hand signals in the absence of turn indicators.


Fast and Furious: Trailer
It is trailers like this that make me wonder if the world would be better off if the aliens from Independence Day (how's that from an up-to-date reference?) brought their ships our way and obliterated every movie theater on the planet.

What's wrong with it? That's kind of like asking, "What's wrong with eating from the dumpster at the zoo?"

First, are there really that many people pining for another installment in this franchise? Yeah, I understand this one has "origina parts" because the cast of the original epic is back together. I'm sorry, I guess I missed the circulating of petitions to reunite the crew in wooden-acting bliss one last time.

Also, how does the removal of two determiners from a title (see title of original film: The Fast and The Furious) pass for the name of a sequel? Why subject your fans to this, when you could take the easy route of just tabbing a number on the end? (This would have to at least be The Fast and The Furious 14, right?) If that's not enough, you can pin cheesy tag line on after the number, like "Die Harder" or "Secret of the Ooze." (The Fast and The Furious 14: Running on Empty?)

Then again, it may be a fitting title. After all, it covers how quickly the movie will be out of theaters and on home video (Fast), along with the temperment anyone who actually pays the film will probably have after sitting through it for 15 minutes (... and Furious).


Doritos: Crystal Ball
This commercial seemed to draw the best reaction from the crowd I watched the game with. Advertisers out there (and I'm sure this blog is a "must read" for most) take note: the key ingredient to entertaining potential customers simple... some guy has to get hit in the groin.

Don't believe me? Perhaps you would like to hear it from one of the great minds of our time.

It works on so many levels.

Things I Don't Understand - Return of the Mind-Bogglers

Mmmmmm... Gluey
An insightful reader helped spark this brain-cramping thought. (Let this be motivation, kids, you too can suggest things the author can't wrap his mind around.)

Consider the following:

Man has walked on the moon.

Man has created an Internet that allows people from across the world to share information with each other nearly instantaneously.

Man has even created a society in which one can earn millions of dollars simply for allowing a camera crew to film your everyday stuck-up life.

Man (this refers to the human species, ladies, I'm not discriminating) has done all this, yet it seems like we have missed out on some obvious areas where improvement is needed.

Case in point: envelopes.

Don't get me wrong, I appreciate envelopes. Without them, my mail would be all willy-nilly when it arrives in my mailbox. Not only that, but the term "self-addressed, stamped envelope" would be rendered moot. (This, friends, would be devastating.)

My beef with envelopes is just a matter of taste. Literally.

If one had to describe the taste of envelope glue, my guess is that result would be something near "tongue-cripplingly toxic." It's just horrible. How can members of a society this technologically advanced still be willing to subject themselves to the equivalent of licking the sticky side of a roll of duct tape every time they mail their cable bill?

Shockingly, I am not the first to address such an issue. A quick search of this web that spans worldwide shows that a patent exists for envelope adhesive that doesn't make one want to scrape his or her tongue with a cheese grater. I'd go into deeper detail, but once I got to the word "polymeric" I had another item to add to my list of things I don't understand.

It is great to see that a world in which mass-produced envelopes with a glue that doesn't make one want to inject their tongue with Novocaine may be in front of us. Nevertheless, I'm still wondering how it has eluded us for this long. Is it just to keep those that ate their Elmer's in elementary school from becoming envelope addicts when they grow up?


No, really... Don't try this at home



Originally, this point was going to be about how the phrase "don't
try this at home," is overused. After all, it's tossed out in
television programs where multi-million dollar rockets might be
featured or where someone will be hunting a pack of dingos with a bowie
knife. Sorry, but most folks I know don't have access to multi-million
dollar incendiary devices or packs of wild dogs indigenous to the
outback.



I was attempting to find some examples online of the absurdity of how this phrase is used... Then I came across this.



Now THERE'S something I don't understand.


What rhymes with orange?

It's a fact that everyone loves tossing around. No word in the
English language rhymes with orange. Yeah, it's a fun bit of trivia,
but I think it's time to retire it.



New words are added every single year to the Oxford English Dictionary.
The most recent additions include words like blowback, crunk, and
mentee. With all these new words being granted wordship each year, how
is it that "orange" still stands without a rhyming mate. It's time we
rectify this, folks.



I have done some research and now know what Graeme Diamond (who bears and uncanny resemblance to the old Encyclopedia Britannica
kid) considers before adding a cluster of letters with a phonetic
pronunciation to the dictionary. Basically, a word has to be used for
an extended period of time in an abundance of areas. Apparently nothing
rhyming with orange has ever met such qualifications. This disappoints
me.



Consider this a call for action. It's time The Writings makes it's
mark. It's time that The Writings supports a cause (other than
attempting to get a duck elected president). It's time that we at The
Writings give textual life to what will be the first word that rhymes
with orange. Now we just have to decide what it will be...

A New Standard

A pair of very astute (read: related to me) readers recently clued me into a television show they think I have been missing out on. Being (the only?) two readers of these Writings, they are well aware of how much I enjoy horrible television. It's an interest that helped lead a series of "Bad Movie Nights" among my roommates in college. (No, believe it or not, those did not impress many of the female variety.) These days, it leads to an odd sense of excitement whenever I come across a new Sci Fi Original movie. This new program, they promised, would assuage my appetite for barely watchable television.

By now, you're curious (unless "you" suggested I watch the program... and we have already established that, odds are, you did... Well, pretend to act surprised.), just what television show could this be. Well, the title pretty much gives you a valid first impression - MTV's Bromance.

Let's join it in progress...

The opening- Apparently becoming Brody's "bro" is the "ultimate challenge." (Take that astronauts, firefighters, cancer researchers, and others who thought you might be making a difference. )I also learned that Brody has a self-described "sick-ass pad." The adjectives "lame-ass" and "hot-ass" are also tossed in... I think I can feel my brain trying to ooze out my ears to end this misery already.

3-minutes in- The four finalists (two guys who sound like they got lost on their way home from Fenway park; a short and somewhat nerdy (cough*pot, meet kettle*cough) kid, and a Nigerian nursing student) are headed to meet Brody at a spa... Quite an impressive premise. I'm pretty sure this could be a script for a feature film. Amazing.

4-minutes in- Brody (real name: Sam Brody Jenner... What, Sammance doesn't have the same ring as Bromance?) has a prank going on the potential "bros" where he's going to have them wear some "lame-ass" jeans (featuring sparkles, rhinestones, flower designs and patches of unicorn fur*) out on a red carpet... My mind is overloaded with potential comments here, but I think my main question is, "What in the name of the decathalon has Brody Jenner done to be somewhere with a red carpet gathering? Are they just going to hang out in a carpet store for a bit?"

*I may have made one of those up.

After the first commercial break- Fresh off a very awkward waxing session at the spa, it's time for these four misguided souls to try on their fancy new jeans. The end result looks like some odd combination of The Village People and the Fabulous Freebirds.

Although every contestant vying to be the groupie of a guy with no talent hates the look of these ridiculous outfits, the first three compromise their values (and self-respect... and argue against the idea that they're anything but rhinestone-studded sheep) and tell Jenner that they really like the look. Bro #4 seemingly has a religious experience after witnessing his reflection while wearing jeans tight enough to make Richard Simmons blush and riding lower than most tricycles. He proceeds to change his clothes (and provide hope for mankind).

Back from break #2- Brody convinces his actual "homies" (two non-competing friends) to help out with the prank and also dress up like guys in their 20s who accidentally did their shopping in the petite girls section at The Gap... It's good to know that Brody doesn't have to have a contest everytime he wants a friend, but he may reach that point if he keeps having his friends do this stuff.

Bro4 loses any chance he had at earning my respect, as he goes back on his comments against the Little Miss Brody collection and wears the sparkly wardrobe to the red carpet event. Soon after, all potential bros do their best Bruce Lee impersonations on the red carpet, showing off some kung fu actions and generally looking absurd. If one hadn't figured out by now that these guys might not be the greenest trees in the forest, this revelation becomes abundantly clear when none of them question why the "red carpet" in question appears to be little more than some red wrapping paper rolled out on the ground. Other clues that might have alerted a competent person that something was awry include the fact that there was no one else on the red carpet... at all. It was a couple fake "media" folk and that's it.

Back from break #3- The cat is out of the bag and the "funny-ass" prank is revealed. An abundance of fake laughter follows and I suddenly feel like I missed a really funny joke... Then I remembered what I was watching. Bro4 apparently wins this challenge, since he was "real," and gets to wear clothes that wear slightly less ridiculous during a night on the town. Bros1-3, on the other hand, are off to put the moves on some single (probably) ladies while dressed up like Miley Cyrus fans.

32 minutes in- Bro4 continues to do his best to cement his spot as one of the most ridiculous people ever, saying he's not on Bromance to compete and win, but to find friendship. Isn't that kind of like bow-hunting to find a pet?

Back from break #4- It's time for another challenge. Brody invites the guys over individually to spend some time with a couple models from Playboy. Apparently social awkwardness is a requirement for being a "bro." Being a veteran of socially awkward situations, I can sniff such situations out, even through television. Believe it or not, intelligent conversation is not prevalent during this portion of the show. While watching this painful scene, I once thought I may have heard, "So what do you think of Obama's cabinet selections?" but it turns out it was just a drawn out utterance of the word "dude."

Back from break #5- The short, nerdy potential bro (SNBP, as we'll affectionately call him) wins the challenge and spends some time with the girls in a hot tub as a result. Remember the last paragraph when we were talking about social awkwardness? Strike that from your memory, as this pretty much renders the term "socially awkward" moot. I think it's now called SNBP.

The elimination takes place at the counter of a Chinese restaurant, and Brody begins it by saying that he wanted the guys to experience "all the BS" in Hollywood in the challenges that day(?... week? This program is so bad I have lost any notion of how time is passing. For all I know, an electro-magnetic storm could have enveloped my home in negatively-charged energy and I could be traveling backward through time*)... I wonder if he's talking about the fact that someone with no discernable talent is labeled a celebrity and has people who appreciate empty lifestyles lining up to be his friend... That Hollywood BS?

*I am no physicist... I pretty much pieced words together there. If it makes no semblance of sense, I apologize.

Back from break #6- The elimination proceedings are in full force and SNBP claims that the two potential bros with thick New England accents have formed a clique. Insert dramatic music here. (Then insert a montage of all the different Boston accents you can think of. Then insert one of them as my replacement to view this show next week.) Things carry on, and the elimination is down to the Boston bros. It's like we're in the middle of a Damon-Affleck movie. The show ends with the loser being tossed out of the restaurant and losing his opportunity at "Bromance."

Little does he realize he now has a chance to actually do something with his life.

Your Stress Reliever

Guided imagery. Breathing deeply while counting to 10. Meditation... No, I'm not listing off the hobbies of those that don't have cable or Internet access, I am looking at ways to handle stress.

It's something we all deal with, whether it's related to work, school, or one's personal life. Some people have legitimate reasons to be stressed out, others can be thrown into a tizzy (please note: this is the first ever occurrence of the word "tizzy" in one of The Writings... mark it down. You can even print this to preserve this historic occasion.) by just about anything. Whether the source of the stress is worthwhile or not, everyone needs ways they deal with pebbles, stones, or boulders life might toss their way. Luckily, you now have this guide to all things stress relief. I'm searching the the farthest corners of the web (unless the web has no corners... crap) and presenting the positives and negatives of various stress reducers. After all, going on bender and headbutting car windshields won't make you feel any better (and might be frowned upon by the cops, too).


Self-hypnosis
I am getting sleepy... I am getting sleepy... Nope, I'm not reminiscing about an old economics class. I'm hypnotizing myself to relieve stress. According to one website, going Manchurian Candidate on yourself is an effective stress reducer.

Why it's good - Because it's SELF-hypnosis, you don't have to pay big bucks to some weirdo spinning a spiral-adorned umbrella.

Why it's bad - If you're like me, your mind tends to wander. Such can be disastrous when performing self-hypnosis. One minute, you're triggering your relaxation response; the next, you're singing a song that's been stuck in your head. The result? When your boss asks you to come to his office, you walk in belting out the lyrics to the Garfield and Friends theme song.


Meditation
This one seems close to self-hypnosis in my book... but not quite as creepy.

Why it's good - Have you ever seen someone meditate that seemed stressed while doing it? Exactly. Also, if the meditation doesn't take, it at least might lead into a nap.

Why it's bad - Again, minds wander. And personal silence isn't always golden... especially when you're someplace with thin walls.


Journaling
Writing down your thoughts, no matter what they might be... Seems like a crazy idea. I doubt I could bring myself to do it.

... Oh.

Why it's good - You can express whatever you'd like, no matter how absurd it might be. (See: Larson, The Writings of Derek).

Why it's bad - Well, if you're writing your own stuff, who is going to read this? Forget that I even mentioned this option.


Playing games
Whether it's Duck, Duck Goose or Duck Hunt (that's right, I'm old school), who doesn't love a good game?

Why it's good - Your options are broad. You can enjoy the camaraderie of friends with a game of touch football or can take quiet solitude while gunning down zombies on your X-Box. (Something tells me that any female readers might be struggling to grasp this point right now... The Writings - We really understand women.)

Why it's bad - If you aren't very good at the game and/or you're a poor loser, this can actually add stress. Don't try to convince the controller to eight-year-old Derek's Nintendo otherwise.


Laughter
Some say it's the best medicine... Others prefer antibiotics.

Why it's good - You're enjoying yourself.

Why it's bad - If you're a person that gets his/her kicks by punting puppies, socking war veterans in the nose, or eating all of one flavor out of someone's Neapolitan ice cream, you're probably doing more harm than good. I'd try something else.


Taking a walk
If you are reading this, you probably aren't taking a walk... Think about it.

Why it's good - You're getting exercise. Your cardiovascular system thanks you.

Why it's bad - Unless you really enjoy walking laps in your home, this one requires a bit of cooperation from Mother Nature. Unfortunately, she's not always the most accommodating lady. Walking in the rain can leave you sick. Walking in the heat can leave you in desperate need of a shower. Walking in the snow can leave you cursing the ice you slipped on.*

*This applies only if you have the balance of a manatee attempting to perform a nose-stand... Oh, odds are you won't curse the ice until after you have gotten back up really quickly and looked around to make sure no one saw you come crashing to the ground... Lousy ice!


Planting a garden
How does your garden grow? Hopefully quite contrary Mary's answer doesn't contain any curses.

Why it's good - You can see progress. What you plant as a seed can turn into something beautiful down the road.

Why it's bad - This is another case where you might be inviting more stress. Pesky varmints can leave you plants looking like the buffet at a sumo conference. Anything that leads to you shooting a shotgun out of your bedroom window at something 1/16 your size cannot be considered stress relief.


Reading a book
LeVar Burton would approve.

Why it's good - It can spark your imagination. It can be educational. It can be inspirational.

Why it's bad - Pages can get stuck together, causing involuntary rage. They can also cause wicked papercuts. It could also lead to people calling you egghead.


Squeezing a stress ball
Ooooh... squishy.

Why it's good - It's exercises hand muscles and relieves muscles tension.

Why it's bad - It's not very big, so you will misplace it at some point. Crawling underneath your desk in a vain attempt to locate your frog-shaped piece of foam rubber is not exactly conducive to slashing your stress level.


Well, nine strategies and 900+ words later, I guess it's pretty obvious which strategy I use to relieve my stress.


(No, not drinking.)

Things I Don't Understand - The quick-hitting edition

As I have mentioned before (and as you've probably ignored, as it really isn't relevant in many lives but my own) my cable package recently was upgraded. For just a few dollars more each month, I now have several new channels that I completely ignore.

One such channel I just noticed for the first time tonight.* It's called Planet Green.

*I realize that saying I "noticed" the channel goes against the mention of "ignoring" the channel... If you spend your free time checking continuity of various blogs, it may be time to search for a new hobby.**

**This coming from the guy who spent an evening writing about what he read on the back of old baseball cards... wow.

As you have probably guessed by now, the focus of the channel is being environmentally friendly, showcasing programs that provide tips on how to minimize one's negative impact on the Earth. (If you guessed incorrectly that Planet Green is a station attempting to revolution the TV industry by air all programs in nothing but differing shades of green, you may just want to begin keeping your guesses to yourself.)

Now, despite how I might try, I am admittedly not the environment's best friend. I have left lights unnecessarily, or left water running when it could have been turned off. (You can send your hate mail for such actions my way... It might be nice to get something other than bills.) Nevertheless, I have a problem with Planet Green. Isn't the whole concept of a "green" television network a bit hypocritical? After all, if one is truly "green" wouldn't they avoid energy-scarfing devices like TVs.

It seems like Planet Green would make more sense if it was presented as a traveling live-action performance. The performers' wardrobes would be made of fallen oak leaves, fallen pine needles, and recycled potato skins (comfortable... and a good snack). Also, those involved would travel from town-to-town by bicycle, tricycle, unicycle, car in neutral with no engine or battery (only recommend if on is traveling down a continual slope) or rickshaw.

If Planet Green must be aired on television, shouldn't those in charge only agree to provide programming to those whose homes are solar-or-wind-powered?* If not that, shouldn't every program just be people looking at the camera and solemnly saying "Turn off you TV. Please, do it now"?

*Homes powered by swarms of rodents running on wheels would be up for debate.

Then again, the channel did just feature Bill Nye (the science guy!) dressed up in a pirate costume that looks fractionally more realistic than the one I wore for Halloween as a six-year-old...

All is forgiven, Planet Green. Keep up the quality, eco-friendly, carbon-emission-free programming.

It's fantastic?

Eight days ago, the K-State Wildcats opened Big 12 conference play against the Oklahoma Sooners. Although the Sooners were ranked No. 6 in the nation, I fully expected Frank Martin's Wildcats - with their 11-3 non-conference record and some impressive perfomances along the way - to be in the game until the very end. In fact, I actually predicted an upset. (Granted, I see the world through Wildcat purple, Royal blue, or Chief red glasses depending on the season, so such upsets are predicted about as often as football announcers talk about Brett Favre or Tim Tebow.*) Such a victory, I thought, could be just the "signature win" that gives certain tournament selection committee that warm and fuzzy feeling at the end of the season.

*This statement is false. Nothing happens with the same frequency as football announcers discuss Favre or Tebow.

Five days ago, the Wildcats, now 0-1 in conference play, headed to Lawrence to face off with the defending national champions. (Wow, it really is painful to type that.) Although the Jayhawks normally have a distinct homecourt advantage, the fact remains that the squad on the floor this season is not near the talent level that KU had last season. Again, where others saw a problem for the Wildcats, I saw an opportunity. K-State could top this team, and I estimated that a win (combined with stellar play the rest of the way) could provide a good argument for the team receiving some love (of the platonic sort) when the postseason came around.

One day ago, the purple-clad crew from the Little Apple found themselves in the middle of corn-husking country. With the Wildcats sitting 0-2 in league play, some labeled the game a "must win" contest for the 'cats. Others might have called it a "can't lose" considering the fact that Nebraska lost to UMBC (that's University of Maryland, Baltimore County, not Utah's Morman Broadcasting Company) on their home floor just one month earlier. Winning this game had less to do with the postseason for K-State than it did with building some momentum, gaining some confidence, and avoiding some embarrassment. Alas, leaving the Devaney Center with a 22-point loss in the books had bizarro results for Kansas State.

Now, I'm not here to shout that the sky is falling*, or say that it's time to give up on the season. That would not fit well into the hokey optimism I normally attempt to employ. I do, however, know there are some issues that the Wildcats need to address, and address as soon as possible.

*Can you imagine if the sky was falling though? Yikes. I don't know if you've looked around much lately, but that thing seems to be everywhere. Try getting away from it.**

**Despite what you might hear from some broadcasters, neither Brett Favre or Tim Tebow would be able to escape if the sky was falling.***

***Odds are, if you present a broadcaster in question with this information, they'll attempt to tell you that Favre and Tebow are the ones who decided that the sky should fall.

One thing this team needs to find is an identity. When they have been at their best this season, the Wildcats have been an up-tempo, defensive-minded squad that rattled other teams so much that it seemed "fling the ball into the crowd" was an actual play in their playbook (which the opponents ran pretty well). Good defense led into quick scores on offense, and away the Wildcats went. Alas, although they have found success with this style, K-State seems to fight the notion with personnel, continually playing at least two and occasionally three "bigs" at a time.

This fondness for players who shop in the big-and-tall department could have been an advantage against the Huskers, who played much of the game with college basketball's version of the Lollipop Guild (no player taller than 6-5) on the floor. K-State's size should have made a difference on the interior. Instead, the post quartet combined for a total of 23 points and 14 rebounds (about an average game for one particular Wildcat post player a season ago).

Now, the lack of scoring productivity from the bigs cannot be heaped entirely on their shoulders. It's hard to have anyone score many points when your team turns the ball over 25 times. With K-State struggling to handle the quick, pesky Husker defense, an emphasis should have been placed on ball control - an area those on the upper end of the size spectrum aren't always known to have great prowess in. The question that then arises in my mind is why the Wildcats didn't attempt to adapt, sacrificing a big or two to get more talented ball handlers on the floor.

The Husker defense also did not do the Wildcats any favors when they proved that they had actually studied game film. Nebraska put little defensive pressure on Wildcats that have not proven themselves to be scoring threats this season, often backing away as if the ballhandler in question had some sort of uber-hybrid of leprosy, the plague, and cooties.* Unfortunately (especially since I'm confident other teams in the Big 12 study game film, as well, and will notice the effectiveness of this strategy), the K-State response was non-existent. There were no surges in aggressiveness from the essentially unguarded players and there were no real efforts to sub in others who might give the defense something more to think about. The result was Nebraska defenders free to run kamikaze.

*I am pretty confident no one in college basketball suffers from this affliction.

Of course, one might argue that it would not have mattered if K-State had (illegally, as far as I know) cloned the original Dream Team and had them running the court - shots just were not falling for those in purple. The fact that the Wildcats shot from long range with the accuracy of a cross-eyed sniper with his closed eye at the scope supports this claim. Whatever the case may be, K-State cannot afford many more nights of Saturday's perfect storm of ugly basketball.

Three days from now, the Wildcats return to the floor. Against the Baylor Bears, they will attempt to get the bad taste out of their mouths, right the ship, get back on the right foot, and perform many other cliched actions. While a game like the one against Nebraska may be enough to get one down, we at The Writings still have some hokey, unbridled optimism to pass around. The 'cats can win this game, and getting back in front of the home crowd may be just what they need.

"What if it's not?" you're asking.* What if the Baylor game, and the Colorado game after that, and the Missouri game, Texas game, Iowa State game, and all the rest go just as the Nebraska game did?

*Check the fine print, here at The Writings I am allowed to ask your questions for you.

Well...

27 days from now, Kansas City Royals picthers and catchers report to Spring Training. Then I can begin to funnel some hokey optimism their way, as well.

The written equivalent of a headache

Weeks ago, I thought I had things figured out. I started to get a bit of a cold, but tried a new (to me... it's not something I created in my bathtub) medication to combat such effects. The result? The symptoms were minimized and the duration was shorter than a bear fight on a beet farm* Naturally, when cold symptoms returned days ago, I put this medication back in my corner and expected a quick KO. Instead, the cold symptoms have battled back and are putting up a better fight than a pair of potbellied pigs after an opened bag of Cheetos.** Now my days are full of hacks, sneezes, and more sinus pressure than Snuffleupagus' trunk after an unfortunate Big Bird step.

Be warned, the following thoughts come from a cold-clouded mind.

*If you found this metaphor to be sensical in the slightest, you too can post your own Writings! (That, or I need to quit writing while watching "The Office.")

**I can't blame this one on The Office... but it's a funny picture, no? Crazy pigs.

- It seems that I missed out on the opportunity to meet "Subway Jared" today. That's right, my lifelong dream of receiving a quick and utterly pointless greeting from a guy who became a "celebrity" soley because he lost a ton of weight by eating mediocre sub sandwiches was thwarted... It's going to be tough to sleep tonight.

- It seems anything that leads to any sort of weight loss these days is marketed as the new miracle diet. There's the Subway diet, Atkin's diet, grapefruit diet, cookie diet, and so many others. Can it be long before we see the Windex diet or the Sucker-Punch Your Gut Away diet? In fact, I weigh the same as I did in high school... Can I market the Spend 94.6-percent of Your Free Time on Your Couch diet?

- I had not heard of this until now, but I think it's pretty hilarious. It's a Facebook application called the Whopper Sacrifice. If a Facebook user "unfriends" 10 "friends"* they get a coupon for a free Whopper. It really seems like a great way to figure out what you're worth to others. If you're unfriended for this promotion, you're worth approximately 1/10 Whopper, which really amounts to about a tomato slice, some lettuce, and a bit of the bun. What a great way to show people what they mean to you.
Despite the fact that I'm a bit of a BK connoisseur (which is probably the equivalent of claiming to be bilingual when one speaks English and pig-latin), I certainly would not drop 10 friends for a free Whopper.
... No, it's not because the promotion has been discontinued... Surely not.

- ... Mmmmmmm.... Whopper.

*Are all your Facebook friends (if you are, in fact, part of the Facebook community) actually people you'd consider friends? Can people who haven't spoken to each other since the time one told the other to quit glancing at his paper in high school accounting class even be considered friends? I would like to push for Facebook to extend its terminology to include more than just "friends." I want to be able to choose "acquaintances." Maybe I could label "people I might recognize in a public setting." Perhaps even "people who gave me the stinkeye." And don't we all want to select a few "enemies." C'mon Facebook, I'm not really Thomas Magnum's friend. Let me tell the community that he's a "fictional person whose comically hokey television show I watched an unhealthy amount while living in a town I grew to despise."

- Do you ever have to sorts through handfuls of gold coins just to find some change for the laundromat? Are you sick of ugly gold jewelry filling up your junk drawer when that space could be better used by rubber bands and dried-out pens from your local grocery store? Most everyone can relate to such hassles... but don't fret. You see, there's now a better use for that gold than putting it in tin cans to create maracas for your weekend mariachi band. One company will actually pay money for your gold. That's right, Ca$h for Gold USA (as seen on TV in a delightfully charming, entertaining, and informative ad) will pay you (in U.S. dollars!) for all that gold, which you previously deemed worthless. It's truly amazing what people will pay money for these days. Nevertheless, rest easy and save that trip to the dumpster... that gold Rolex, your chest of pirate booty, and even your wedding band are actually worth something.

- It's a good thing my computer does not have a sarcasm checker, or else the previous paragraph may have forced my computer into a catatonic state. Heaven knows it flirts with such action often anyway.

Things I Don't Understand - the January Garage Sale

After a thorough study of a 2009 calendar I received for Christmas, I have come to the conclusion that we currently sit (or stand, if you prefer) in the month of January. Recollection of past months bearing the same name, plus a few recent trips outside, have reminded me that, in Kansas, this first month of the year is usually a chilly one. With such thoughts in my head, I find a sight I noticed yesterday even more perplexing.

Driving along a side-street to my apartment I noticed a home with a smattering of tables out in front of it, all sheathed in a collections of trivial items. It seems the owner of the home was either having a garage* sale or some very organized burglars were cleaning the place out.

*Or "car-hole" if you run a tavern in Springfield.

I realize January 11 was an unseasonably warm day in my Midwestern home, but I still find the timing of the aforementioned sale mind-boggling.

You see, it seems that most garage sales involve premeditation. In my experiences with non-literal garage sales (I have never been a part of a literal garage sale... people usually prefer to have houses included in the deal), those serving at the merchant end prefer to plan the sale weeks ahead. That provides time to prepare and advertise. Such preparations normally lead the sales folk to plan Spring or Summer sales, so that the weather they encounter might be more conducive to outdoor activity. Planning a winter sale weeks ahead, hoping for an unseasonably pleasant day, is a bit of risky business. If the sellers missed out on the meteorological jackpot, they could have had Frosty's Kansas cousins (they're mentioned in the third part of the epic Frosty trilogy... believe me) taking cash and making sure no-one pick-pocketed anything.

These neighbors of mine seemed to have other ideas. They seized the sunny winter day, loaded rows of junk onto six-foot tables, and opened their brown-lawned superstore for business. I trust they were not dismayed by the fact that number of potential customers checking out the merchandise on their grassy plain was a particularly round one that rhymes with "hero." I'm also sure that they were not downtrodden by the fact that, on this January day when people don't expect a garage sale to take place (and during which people who choose to enjoy the weather probably won't do it by sifting through the used pogs and "Dole in '96" t-shirts of others), I may have very well sold as many belongings out of my second-story window (again, zero... believe it or not) as they did in their "organized" sale.

Maybe I'm missing the whole point. Maybe they had no choice but to get rid of loads and loads of random belongings. Perhaps their floors were threatening collapse from the burden of too much weight. Maybe they have dreamt premonitions of being robbed and losing everything and want to beat the larcenous fiends to the punch. Or maybe these folks just were not fortunate enough to receive a 2009 calendar for Christmas and didn't realize what month it was. Here's to hoping that any money they gained from it (maybe they found some spare change among the trivia) is used to get a new calendar.

A trip down memory lane... one cardboard rectangle at a time

Those who keep themselves occupied with multiple tasks at once are referred to as multitaskers. (Note: If you're already lost, this may not be the Writing for you) However, I have noticed that multitaskers are often seen as being productive sorts. I, on the other hand, often keep myself busy with multiple tasks that bear no semblance of anything that could be deemed productive. For instance, this very evening I am watching the BCS matchup between Oklahoma and Florida (it's the battle of the panhandles!), composing this very writing, and flipping through some old sports trading cards.

That's right, while some may have thought I would have run out of embarrassing hobbies to blog on by now, the hits (to other's opinions of me) just keep coming. As a kid, it seemed that any personal income brought in by various odd jobs all went toward the same thing: buying that next pack of cards. As I look back on it now, the obsession sounds nearly like a drug addiction. Cards were my fix. There was a brief period where I was even paid for some work I did in sports cards.

For a young sports-obsessed nerd (we all must come to grips with the truth at some point), they were perfect. I could collect my favorite players, have access to all sorts of stats that were otherwise extremely hard to find in the pre-Internet days, and - in special cases - get some interesting insight. Certain cards would have brief paragraphs detailing the player featured. While most would just delve into a further examination of statistics or mention the players skills, occasionally you would find one that was not quite like the others. It was like the copy writer for the card was attempting to spice things up just a bit. Naturally, the only way to really show the glory of these literary nuggets is to detail them case-by-case. Thus, with a box of cards by my side and the BCS Championship (a panhandler's delight!) on the tube, it's time to flip through some literary gold.

Darrin Jackson - Pinnacle 1995
"His thyroid condition all cleared up in 1994...," so begins the paragraph on Mr. Jackson's card. It's at this point that I wonder if this card is a promotional item from a hospital. Luckily, it does not delve into blood pressure or cholesterol. In fact, in a pleasant turn, it speaks of how Jackson was underrated. It ends with, "... he finally got his due in '94." I'm not sure how the folks at Pinnacle were granted the power to determine what someone's "due" was... but I'm glad Jackson's wasn't the thyroid condition.

Bo Jackson - Score 1991
You remember the "Bo Knows" commercials? Bo knows football. Bo knows baseball. Bo knows dominating in Tecmo Super Bowl. Well, according to Score, Bo also knew intergalactic dominance. After all, this card claims Bo was "the greatest athelete in the universe." One might think calling him the "best athlete on Earth" would have been a strong enough claim... but not the folks at Score. They were making sure any those folks who claim to have been abducted by aliens knew exactly where Bo ranked.
"Sure, they may have beamed you aboard and done some probing, but let's see them beat Bo in a foot-race!"

Gregg Jefferies - Score 1991
According to a GM on an NL rival, you could "... almost smell the love of the game reeking all over..." Jeffries. I think folks with BO have a new excuse.
"Uh, Jim, did you shower today."
"Don't worry. That's just my love of the game."
"What game? We work at Kinkos."
"It's cool, man. I just love what I do."
"So your love smells like gym socks that have been left in the backseat of a car in the middle of the summer?"


Tunch Ilkin - Pro Set 1991
According to this card, Ilkin's mom was Miss Turkey in 1950... I know offensive linemen don't receive much press, but for Pete's sake. They resorted to mentioning his mother on his football card.

Tracy Jones - Score 1992
"... Tracy also gets hurt a lot..."
Score - when the truth hurts, we're there.

Paul Farren - Pro Set 1991
"... Longshot to make pros..."
C'mon, I know the Browns only went 3-13 in 1990, but they were still considered "professionals." That's low, Pro Set.

Mike Davis - Donruss 1990
List in his "Career Highlights" section: "Is cousin of former AFL defensive back Dave Grayson." Funny, I just completed a self-evaluation at work. Are you telling me I could have just listed my relatives and been good to go? I tried to think of actual accomplishments and all I needed to do was say that my third cousin was an extra in Garfield: A Tail of Two Kitties?*

*No, not true.

Ricky Bones - Studio 1992
Although I was oblivious to it as a 10-year-old, it seems obvious now that Studio was not only a baseball card company, but a dating service. It makes sense. After all, who has time to "play the field" when you're playing on the baseball field 162 games each season. The back of Ricky's card mentions that he's single, and that his hobbies are "weight lifting, horseback riding, and jet skiing." Here's to hoping he found happiness.

Glenn Braggs - Score 1992
While Studio was looking to hook folks up, it seems that someone at Score may have been nearing a restraining order. Glenn's summary includes the fact that he has an "awesome build" and that he "would rate well against any of the other strong men in the game." ... Uhh, Score, we're still talking about baseball, right?

Larry Johnson - Skybox 1995-1996
We close with a bit of unintentional (hopefully) demotivation. The card says "Standing 6-2 in the seventh grade, LJ was later named by his high school classmates 'Most Likely to Succeed.'" In other words, "Hey short kids, give up now."


The Writings, interpreting hidden basketball card messages since 2009.

Observations --- That's all

The holidays are over and that can only mean one thing: someone, somewhere is pretty upset that the antlers they super-glued to their dog's head are not coming off as easily as they'd hoped. Blasted glue!

... Wait, that's not it. No, the end of the holiday season means I no longer have an excuse for neglecting The Writings. It's time to get back to my routine schedule of posting. (read: posts will once again be sporadic and erratically inconsistent... You're relieved, I'm sure) Anyway, consider this as the first step in getting back on the right track.

- The holiday break did provide a few additions to my ever-expanding list of things that are "awww"-inspiringly cute when done by an infant, but "alert the authorities" awkward if done by anyone else. New entries include: chewing on someone else's finger, yelling random untelligible nonsense during church, and lying in the middle of the floor on one's belly and swinging arms and legs as if swimming.

- Can someone explain to me the concept behind waiting in Times Square for 11 hours to ensure that you have a good spot to see the ball drop on New Year's? You know exactly what's going to happen. The ball drops. People cheer. Then you probably have to wait another 11 hours just to catch a cab to get back to your hotel. Sure, those folks might argue that it's no different than waiting hours to see a sporting event. Unfortunately for them, those folks would be wrong. With a sporting event, there's uncertainty. You don't know the outcome, which adds excitement and, in turn, can make the end result expontially more satisfying (or frustrating). (A sporting event also lasts longer than 10 seconds.) When that ball drops, the only uncertainty is whether an inebriated guy in the crowd will get slapped for trying to get a smooch from a random female.

- Note to iTunes: you may claim to have a "Genius" feature, but the fact that you recommend I download New Kids on the Block's "Hangin' Tough" makes me wonder if someone read your IQ test results wrong. That, or the program's artificial intelligence has developed understanding of sarcasm... Touche.

- Despite our best fundraising efforts, we at The Writings were not able to land sponsorship for a bowl game this football season. (Who would have guessd you actually have to have "funds" to sponsor?) Although our dream went unfulfilled, the fact that Emerald Nuts sponsors a bowl game gives us hope for the future. Look for The Writings Pointless Drivel Bowl next football season.

- It's nice to see that Magic Johnson has an instructional basketball DVD set on the market. It's good that he's out to help the kids. The children are our future, after all... That said, it strikes me as comical that the DVD set includes a bonus conditioning disc. Why? First of all, anyone that considers conditioning to be a "bonus" is a few rebounds shy of a triple-double.* Second, it's rather apparent that Magic has packed on a couple pounds since his playing days. The aforementioned disc might be serving as a "bonus" coaster around his place.

*If you are not a sports fan, I apologize profusely for the basketball reference. It must be frustrating to continually read about things you have no interest in. If you'd like to send me the latest issue of Guns & Ammo, Good Housekeeping, or Cat Fancy that you might be reading, feel free to send it my way.

- Whether or not you've seen the advertisements for the Snuggie there's no denying that the tagline ("The Blanket With Sleeves!") is frighteningly accurate. It's also much more pleasant than the only other option: "The top cult robe on the market. Drink the Kool-Aid and buy one today!"

- If you ever find yourself in a situation where you think you might appear foolish to those around you, feel free to picture me scrunched over in my car's driver seat at a local drive-thru, straining to reach down through a slightly cracked door, attempting to nab my debit card off the ground after it was dropped there by the employee working the drive-thru window. See, you don't look like a fool. ... Oh, and thanks, fast food employee.

- I recently upgraded my cable package. Now, before you get out your Jump
to Conclusions Mat I must dispel any notions that I have recently
earned a startling increase in income, inherited great sums from a rich distant relative, or discovered buried treasure while attempting to build a
snow fort. No, my splurging for these additional opportunities to rot
my mind came about simply because I was presented with deal worthy of much rejoicing. (Hooray! ... That should cover it.) Naturally, there's a catch. After six months the "excellent
deal" evaporates and I have an "excellent burden" on my checkbook.
Thank goodness for the word "cancellation." Anyway, with a bevy of new
channels to flip through, I'm presented with a myriad of programs fit
for mockery and the like. You can certainly expect a detailed study of
such in the future.

2008 - The year that was (because if it wasn't, we'd be in a pickle) -- Part two

At long last (after two whole days!), it's the second part of The Writings second-annual year in review. We here at The Writings beg your forgiveness for making this a two-part entry. I'm not one to normally point fingers, but all ten of my hand digits are pointing at my personal assistant.

What's that? I don't have one?

Then blame the intern.

No intern either? What type of shoddy organization is this?

Oh well. Lack of anyone to provide the author with a semblance of organization aside, 2009 has officially arrived. What lies ahead? Who knows. Maybe an army of cloned cycloptic gorillas will invade the western seaboard. I hear they're fans of the nice temperatures and fresh seafood.

Dastardly primates and 2009 events aside, we still have 2008 business to attend to. Particularly, picking up where we left off in part one of what many critics (me, when I was half-asleep) have called the most comprehensive summation of a year's events ever conjured.

--------------------

September 2008-
The 2008 presidential race hit high gear, as both major party's national conventions were completed by early September. The one-on-one battle led to a bevy of campaign ads hitting the television commercial breaks. As both candidates attempted to prove the other was not fit to be president (you know, rather than just saying why they should be) little was held back. Leading up to the election, reasons cited may or may not have included:
- candidate x is too old;
- candidate x is an elitist;
- candidate x is a muslim;
- candidate x is too hot-headed;
- candidate x was sent here from another planet to bring the destruction of our society and pave the way for Jupiterians to raid Earth;
- candidate x eats puppies when he's feeling blue;
- candidate x once starred in an adult film under the stage name Randy Pheeling;
- candidate x wears white after Labor Day;
- candidate x enjoys the movie Slam Dunk Ernest.

October 2008-
On October 15 the inaugural Global Handwashing Day took place. As one should be able to infer from the day's name, the event promoted washing hands around the globe to prevent disease.

I understand the importance of this in nations that may not be as well off as ours, but I'm hoping it's not just a one day celebration for those here in the states... Especially the folks at the Burger King down the block.

November 2008-
History was made with the presidential election, but the event probably deserves a recap by someone who doesn't occasionally refer to professional wrestling in his writing.

In other news, Ron Prince was informed that he'd be welcome back at Bill Snyder Family Stadium in 2009... as long as he had a ticket. With Prince no longer leading the program, it was time to scour the nation to find fresh talent to take over... or time to go and ask the guy down the hall if he was interested in coming back. Coaching legend Bill Snyder accepted the position by the end of the month, and since that time has assembled a coaching staff that gives the program immediate hope. Granted, starting quarterback Josh Freeman has decided that he prefers earning paychecks to cracking textbooks, but there's still an excitement around the upcoming season that has not been present for a few years.

Only 246 days until the season opener.

December 2008-
Children everywhere were disappointed when Santa Claus' sleigh was side-swiped as he tried to parallel park in New York. Santa was not injured, but the sleigh was damaged and rendered inoperable, meaning tikes around the globe went toyless for the holidays. Although he was unavailable for comment, word is that Santa has vowed revenge on the hit-and-run driver, and will spend the year collecting coal that will be used to bombard the offenders house next Christmas eve.

Remember kids, the lyrics "so be good for goodness sake" aren't just a hokey suggestion. They're an order.

Don't cross the Claus.