Things I Don't Understand - A Place I Would Not Choose for Relaxation

As I have mentioned in this space previously, on occasion I enjoy taking a quick walk around the park. I find it can be a good way to clear one's head, to take in a nice day, or to encounter individuals fit for proper examination courtesy of The Writings. I haven't been to the park in awhile (the whole "exercise" thing could really tarnish my reputation as one who relishes torpor), but it seems the park is now trying to come find me; I just encountered a park bench... in a public restroom.

Upon seeing the bench in this location, my mind was immediately paralyzed with confusion. You see, my understanding is that park benches serve as:
- a nice place for people to sit and relax;
- a good spot to enjoy a visit with an old friend;
- an excellent location to observe one's surroundings and ponder the beauty of such creation;
- and an ideal setting for taking a loaf of bread/bag of seeds/cage of mice and feeding ducks/pigeons/red-tailed hawks as one pleases.

Alas, I've struggled in figuring out situations where any of the above scenarios would be enjoyable/feasible in a public restroom.

Relaxation? I can think of better spots. (Like hanging by one's toenails off a bridge.)

Visiting? If you're attempting to have a heart-to-heart with someone while flushing toilets provide the audible ambiance, odds are you won't be speaking with that person again.

Observation and pondering? Uhh, no. No.

Feeding winged creatures? If you encounter a public washroom that serves as home to a flock of anything, you have bigger problems than a park bench.

It's obvious that this park bench does not belong in this restroom. The question remains: how did it get there? Is it the result of a prank by a competing hotel? Did a slightly mentally unstable city employee get confused by a supervisor's instructions to install the bench "near your favorite water feature"? Did it simply materialize out of nothingness?

There's really only well way to find out... Unfortunately, that involves me getting off this bench and asking someone.

People in Your Neighborhood - The Perplexed Grocery Shopper

"It just doesn't make any logical sense."

I heard the aforementioned quote just minutes ago. Oddly, it did not take place in any sort of philosophical debate. This sentence was not uttered in a lecture hall, a library, or even some sort of coffee shop where mind-cramping issues might be discussed.

No, I heard this quote in the frozen pizza aisle at the supermarket.

Don't get me wrong; I'm not saying the grocery store is not a place that serve as home to stimulating topics of conversation. I'm sure many issues so deep that my feeble mind could not comprehend them have been discussed while comparing prices of Ketchup vs. Catsup. Unfortunately, this quote was not uttered in a discussion about fertilizers used to ensure good crops of tomatoes. It was not in reference to an embargo that prevents us from being able to purchase Cuban cuisine. It did not even relate to the fact that the Little Debbie website has a gift shop section.

No, this slice of wisdom was given verbal birth because a grocery shopper did not understand a two-for-$5 promotion.

Yes. That's right.

The gentleman in question, dressed as if his grocery shopping was a precursor to a monster truck rally this evening (and heretofore referred to as "the professor"), could not process the concept that the market could charge $2.75 for one pizza, but then only charge $5 if he were to buy two.

The professor was utterly baffled. It reminded me of the time I read Stephen Hawking's "A Brief History of Time." Sure, I made it through, but that doesn't mean I'm going to be writing any dissertations on wormholes.

"It makes no f****** sense," he said.

That's right. This issue of this grocery promotion was so disturbing that profanity came into play.

Unfortunately, his colleague ("the professess") was of little assistance with the matter. Sure, she verbally volleyed with him, countering his quip of "They can't do it," with the utterly brilliant, "Yes, they can," but her followup to the next question was less encouraging.

"How?" asked the professor.

Digging into the deepest recesses of her mind, the professess retorted, "I don't know. They just can."

There I was, trying buy something perfectly unhealthy to transport to my freezer, and all of the sudden I was at the mercy of a conversation that basically equated a two-for-$5 special to the illusions of David Coppefield.

"How did he make the Statue of Liberty disappear?"

"I don't know, but can you imagine how much more amazing it would of been if he had sold us two $10 tickets for $17.50?... Amazing!"

I grabbed a couple pizzas and left, trying to avoid shaking my head as I pushed my cart away. I continued my shopping, checked out at the cashier, and went on my way.

I did not, however, ask the cashier how they could logically run that promotion on frozen pizzas.

... I figured good magicians never share their secrets.

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...

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.

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.

Things I Don't Understand - the equestrian atop a pale pony

I read a newspaper editorial this morning, the subject of which was an injured quarterback retuning to lead his team on the football field. The columnist argued that this young signal-caller would not make this struggling squad instantly competitive simply by standing under center.

I have absolutely no qualms with this argument. In fact, since the youngster has never actually been the starting quarterback in a game his NFL franchise has won, it seems that the title of the column could have been, "Reiterating Common Knowledge."

All statements of the obvious aside, the thing I found interesting in the article was the use of a certain cliche. The writer used a quote from the head coach, in which the coach stated that the quarterback would not come "riding in on a white horse."

Reading the aforementioned statement made me pause.

Was this expected of the quarterback? Had his injury rehabilitation been combined with some equestrian training?

And why the emphasis on the fact that he wouldn't ride atop a white horse? Was he establishing the fact that the quarterback is drug free? Or refuting any inane ideas that he might be the antichrist?

Since this phrase was used to support the argument that the QB would not be a difference-making player this season, does this mean that there is some sort of cause-and-effect relationship between someone's ability to ride white horses and their prowess on the gridiron?

I know newspaper editorials are meant to get people thinking... but I'm not sure these are the type of questions they're supposed to spurn. I had to find out if this saying had any merit. Did Joe Montana ever ride atop a white steed prior to a Super Bowl victory? Did John Elway use a Denver Bronco as his means of conveyance while traveling to Super Bowl XXXII?

Alas, such research proved inconclusive.

In fact, the only event I could conjure in which someone famously rode a white horse in to quell the chances of defeat was (nerd alert!) when Gandalf the White rode Shadowfax down the slope the the Battle of Helm's Deep. Saruman's troops stood no chance.

Perhaps this coach was simply attempting to vanquish any possible rumors that the quarterback is a wizard that can tame equidae previously thought unable to be tamed.

In the end, the point is somewhat moot, as the quarterback left the contest (once again, his first game back from injury) with a new injury. His luck seems to indicate that he's been littering on ancient burial grounds and spitting on the Blarney Stone... I guess the white horse is probably lucky he wasn't called for duty.

Things I Don't Understand - The Return

It's true. The series near and dear to so many (or perhaps just two) hearts is making its return. My streak of unblemished clearheadedness has reached its inevitable end, and I'm back to my befuddled state (at one time thought to be my default setting). It's almost like I have come home (to a house with no door).

So, what events have left me feeling like a third grader from the Midwest trying to read Swahili? Read on...


One of these things is not like the other...

If you're like me (I realize that's a very dangerous qualifier, but stick with me), you grew up watching Sesame Street. Sesame Street, in its efforts to teach impressionable children with crazy puppets, occasionally featured a game called One of These Things is Not Like the Other. In celebration of Big Bird's upcoming winter migration (think of the mess he could leave on your windshield), it's time to play our own round.

One of these things is not like the other. One of these things just isn't the same. Please identify that thing now...
1. Pepsi
2. Pepsi
3. Pepsi
4. Diet Pepsi

Please, I encourage you not to feel rushed. Take as long as you need to weed out the black sheep.

... Got it?

If you picked Diet Pepsi, I would like to congratulate you. Sure, you may think this exercise was pointless, but I've got news for you... This test has proven difficult for a few of our friends in the fast food business. Twice in the past two weeks, I have ordered a Pepsi at the drive-thru of a Mexican fast food chain (hint: it features a device that rings in its name... No, Burrito Phone is not the answer), only to receive the inferior diet version of the soft drink in its stead. If dramatic music of the 'dun dun dunnnnn' variety was ever called for, this is the case.

Why does this soda switcheroo happen? Have I lost my Pepsi-drinking rights? Do the soda servers of America think I need to be even skinnier? Is the fast-food industry trying to feud with me? (You're not getting near the Fast Money round, Colonel Sanders!)

Obviously I'm perplexed, as the title of this very Writing implies. Granted, I have never worked in the fast food industry, but last I knew the buttons on soda dispensers featured colorful labels that clearly state what carbonated beverage will reach its mobile transport (e.g., cup) should the button be pressed. Alas, the only conclusion I can reach is that there is an unwritten code for those in the Society of Soda Servers (a surprisingly tough group to get into... I can't even get anyone to admit it exists) that every third drink must be dispensed with the server's eyes closed as he or she hums the theme song to Mission: Impossible.



Weather forecast? I'm sorry, I'm unfamiliar with the term...

When you live/work next to a college campus, you witness many things. Some might be ridiculous. Some might be funny. Some might be utterly mystifying... in a very foolish way.

Imagine, if you will, that you're a college student. Somehow you've lucked out, and your first class today is not until 1:30 p.m. This means that, if you really hustle, you don't even need to leave your apartment for class until 1:21 p.m. Not too shabby. Even if you had a late night, you can still sleep until noon.

My question for you, oh future valued member of the American workforce, is: At any point in the hour and 21 minutes that you're awake prior to your departure, do you turn on the television to check the weather? Or check it online? Or on your phone? Or do you walk by a window through which you can view the outdoors?

Forgive my inquisitive nature, but this hypothetical was reality around here recently, and I was not exactly impressed by the results. If it is post-noon and precipitation has been continually plummeting to the ground from the clouds above since the previous night, I am the type of person that expects people to be somewhat prepared for the weather. Umbrellas seem to be effective in such situations. If you're anti-umbrella, wearing something with a hood is a decent alternative. Even a jacket, sans hood, will be better than nothing.

Yet, the number of students seen sprinting through the rain in their t-shirts and shorts as if the storm had materialized within seconds was mind-boggling. Even if one exits their home unprepared for the rain, wouldn't they make note of the current weather conditions once they're out the door?*

*Possible inner monologue: "Hmm, there's precipitation falling on me in a repeated manner, yet I exited the shower an hour ago. If this continues as I trek to class, my clothing could be quite waterlogged by the time I sit down for Physics. Perhaps there's some way I can combat these basic liquid droplings from above."**

**I think I pretty much nailed the vernacular for the majority of college students today. It certainly wouldn't be simplified to something like, "Dude, it's raining. Where's my @#%#@$ hoodie?"

Maybe I just misundersood the reactions. Perhaps being drenched when you arrive at class is the "in thing," and the sprinting was actually a physical representation of their unsupressed joy to be conforming to popular style brought on by the ever-growing popularity of Michael Phelps... That makes more sense that just being ignorant of the current weather conditions, doesn't it?

Things I Don’t Understand (yet another edition of the never-ending series)

I don’t understand a bevy of things, yet you think I have time for introductions? On to the list…

The phrase “circus-like atmosphere”

This phrase is normally used to describe a situation where there are a ton of people around, some raucous celebration, and a bunch of media members covering the proceedings. Does this sound like a circus to you? Kids aren't going to get excited to go see some cameras click.

Where are the clowns? Where’s the cotton candy? What about the trapeze artists wearing the flamboyant costumes? Honestly, if there aren’t lions jumping through hoops of fire, I don’t want to hear the phrase “circus-like atmosphere” brought into the mix.


The fact that people won’t draft Michael Beasley due to character issues

When it comes to the former K-State star, it seems that no NBA general manager doubts his talent. He’s one of the most-talented scorers in the draft. He was the top rebounder in the NCAA. He made 30-point games seem commonplace.

Yet, it now seems that the top two teams in tonight’s draft may both shy from Beasley due to “character issues.” If you hear about Beasley, odds are you’ll hear those two words. But, what exactly are his issues in character? Oddly enough, that point isn’t normally addressed.

He went to a few different high schools – (insert shocked gasp here) – and he got in a bit of trouble at one for signing things (hello ebay!). Sure, he has a joking personality and doesn’t take anything too seriously, but he’s also 19. Think about yourself as a 19-year-old? Did you ever answer a question with a smart-aleck remark?

Nevertheless, there’s talk that the Miami Heat may draft Ovinton J’Anthony (O.J.) Mayo instead of Beasley with the number two pick. I am a bit biased, and I don’t know much about the former USC guard, but his Wikipedia page - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/O.J._Mayo - (which can be edited by anyone and therefore may contain falsities (this message brought to you by the “Cover My Butt Foundation”)) contains some interesting information.

Character issues, you say?


The level of celebrity status one must reach in order to comment about things on I Love the New Millennium

The prostitute from Borat is commenting on 50 Cent’s “In Da Club.” You’re sure about this?

And what the heck is going on with airing I Love the New Millennium, when we’re not even through the first decade of it? Are we that low on ideas? (The fact that Tila Tequila has a show tells me yes.)

Keep an eye out for my next blog entry, “I Love My Last Blog Entry,” where I will recap the entry you are currently reading, and add in comical quips along the way. It's going to be hilarious!

Things I Don't Understand - I Have No Blue Teeth

So I am sitting in Bramlage Coliseum as the countdown to tip off ticks second-by-second closer, and something a few rows in front of me catches my eye. A man stands, clapping (mostly in rhythm) to "Wildcat Victory." He's decked in Wildcat gear, and has no features that might cause one to gasp in horror, yet something about the guy strikes me the wrong way - his right ear... Not his ear in particular, but what was in his ear - a Bluetooth earpiece.

I have no qualms with the Bluetooth earpiece in general. In fact, it's a pretty slick innovation. It allows folks to devote both hands to driving and yet talk on their cell phone at the same time. As a result, it follows Derek's Essential Rule #84 - Safety First.

My issues with Bluetooth earpieces are multiple.

- What's a hand to do?
It's time for the first ever Writings of Derek Larson Physical Challenge. No matter where you are currently reading this, put one of your hands up to your ear (in phone-holding fashion), get up (if you're sitting - or lying down (I won't claim to know how you relax) - to read this), and walk 10 paces, turn around, and walk back to your current spot. I'll give you time to complete this challenge, occupying myself by singing a little tune...

"A man walks down the street, it's a street in a strange world;
Maybe it's the Third World, maybe it's his first time around;
He doesn't speak the language, he holds no currency;
He is a foreign man, he is surrounded by the sound, the sound;
Cattle in the marketplace, scatterlings and orphanages, he looks around, around;
He sees angels in the architecture, spinning in infinity;
He says 'amen, hallelujah!'
If you'll be my bodyguard, I can be your long lost pal;
I can call you Betty, and Betty when you call me you can call me Al;
Call me Al."

Thank you, Paul Simon.

Anyway, hopefully you've had enough time to complete the physical challenge. Now it's time to evaluate... While walking with your hand to your ear, did you walk right into anything, injuring yourself? Did your arm get really tired, to the point that you could no longer hold it up? Did you feel less safe than you would have with that arm at your side?

My point with all these inane questions is that taking advantage of the hands-free quality of the Bluetooth earpieces when not using your hands for anything else seems to serve no other purpose than promoting laziness. Granted, I'm not the ideal person to be giving a lecture on avoiding laziness. As I write this I'm slouched on my couch with my feet propped on my coffee table, and I'm slowly going thirsty because I can't reach my cup of lemonade (grow, arms, grow!). Nevertheless, I have successfully completed the physical challenge and stand by my "don't use Bluetooth earpieces if you're arms aren't engaged" stance.


- Are you talking to me?
You've (hopefully) passed the physical challenge (if not, I deeply apologize), now it's time to test your imagination.

Picture yourself in the grocery store of your choosing. Your cupboards are bare in your home and you've made the poor decision of going to buy groceries at dinnertime - before eating (dun dun DUNNNNN). Every food item you see looks delicious, and your cart is filling up faster than an Arrowhead Stadium restroom at halftime. As you stand in the frozen food aisle, attempting to determine exactly what brand of frozen pizza is right for you, you hear, "Hey, what's going on?"

You glance to your right and see some little lady pushing her cart your way, seemingly looking in your direction. You don't exactly recognize her, but you aren't exactly one who remembers every name/face you encounter. Not wanting to seem rude, you begin to toss your preferred greeting (whether it's "hello," "what's up," or "a hoi hoi"), before she seemingly cuts you off and says, "Yeah, I was totally hammered," (Is the fact that I live in a college town evident from the fact that such is a commonly overheard statement?).

You stand stunned, unsure exactly what the heck this girl is talking about and thinking it's a bit weird that she took the conversation - without any prompting - in such a direction... That is, until you notice that her hair is covering a barely visible Bluetooth earpiece. This girl does not know you and was not speaking to you, but instead was speaking to one of her little friends via Bluetooth. As you realize this, you attempt to cover up the appearance of your hand (partially raised, as you prepared to give your preferred visual greeting (be it a wave, a peace sign, or a Three Stooges eye poke)) and your mouth (partially open, as you had begun to toss out your spoken greeting) by quickly coughing into a closed fist... Your efforts earn you little more than a bewildered look and a stronger sense of self deprecation.

Had it not been for the Bluetooth earpiece, you would have minded your own business, picked up a couple pizzas, and been on your way.

Thank you for taking part in the this 100-percent hypothetical (I certainly never encounter awkward social situations... never) imagination exercise.


- Can you hear me now? Of course not!
My last point refers back to the whole reason I was set off on this rant - the guy at the ballgame. Have you ever tried talking on a phone in a basketball arena or outdoor stadium while game action is actually occurring? Normally these athletic events involve screaming fans, clapping hands, and pep bands (you get the rhyme for free). Such an atmosphere does not exactly ooze the opportunity for civil conversation.

In fact, I'm confident I can sum up 96.4-percent of such phone calls with the following transcript -

Fan at Arena (FaA): Hello?
Friend Calling at Inopportune Time (FCaIT): (inaudible)
FaA: (yelling) What?
FCaIT: (inaudible)
FaA: (yelling louder, because if you can't hear the person talking to you, it's obvious that YOU need to be louder) WHAT??? I'M AT THE GAME.
FCaIT: (inaudible again)
FaA: (yelling still) NO! THE GAME! THE BASKETBALL GAME!
FCaIT: (inaudible... although one phrase sounded like "chicken pudding in a trailer")
FaA: (now yelling so loud all fans in the area are glaring) YEAH, OK, I'LL CALL YOU LATER.

The point of this whole spiel is that - due to the fact that the odds of having a productive phone call at a ballgame are as likely as one of the athletes in that game removing his shoelaces, fashioning them into a bullwhip, and then using that whip to swing from the rafters - there is no point to having the Bluetooth earpiece in "ready to converse" position (in an ear) while at a sporting event.

As far as I know, these earpieces are not surgically attached upon purchase, and therefore they are removable. Wouldn't it be nice to give an ear a chance to live a little during a game, freeing it from its intrusive new occupant?

Please, guy at Bramlage and other Bluetooth earpiece users, use this technology in a sensible manner.

Things I Don’t Understand – The National sports media

Imagine this scenario: You’re a fan of a small market baseball team that has seen its struggles in recent years, but is now climbing from the depths of obscurity and playing decent baseball. The team in question wins a game that brings them close to escaping the cellar, but said game was not televised. As a fan in this era, where information is at your very fingertips, you might assume you’d be able to see some highlights of the victory by turning into a network that advertises itself as the “Worldwide leader in sports.”

Now, imagine your disappointment when it’s finally time for the recap of the aforementioned game, yet the only “highlights” are three misplayed balls in the outfield by a guy who was playing third base last season.

As is common with most of the “hypothetical” situations used in my prose, such an event happened just weeks ago. Granted, the Royals are not world-beaters, and I don’t expect them to be the lead on Sportscenter, but any team should receive credit when they win.

Currently, I’m watching the Royals play the Red Sox in a scoreless game through two innings. With a win, the Royals would take this series from the American League East leaders. Before picking up my laptop to compose this rant, I was calmly sitting on my couch, thinking how I’d like to see the highlights tonight if the Royals could take their bats to a 212-year old Julian Tavarez. Then I realized, because they’re playing the media-darling Red Sox, even if Odalis Perez fought all laws of pitching aptitude and common sense and tossed a no-hitter, the “highlights” would still probably focus on “Manny (Ramirez) being Manny” as he trotted in the outfield.

As a result, an abundance of issues are swarming in my head, like sportswriters to the guy they know will say something controversial.

The most pressing issue concerns coverage on a national level in general. If you frequent sports programming, odds are you have heard the phrase, “The best player no one has heard of.” The moniker is often given to a good player on a “small market” team. Now, as the NATIONAL media, or the WORLDWIDE leader, shouldn’t it be the job of the folks on these programs to make sure we have heard of these players? Aren’t they failing if a fan has to look at a scorecard to figure out who someone on an All Star team is?

Case in point, first baseman Dmitri Young currently leads the National League in batting average. How did I come upon such a seemingly common piece of knowledge? It wasn’t from any national sports coverage. After all, Young plays for the last-place Washington Nationals, which means his team will probably only see screen time if it involves someone falling down (such coverage may as well be accompanied by Benny Hill music and laugh tracks). No, my knowledge of Young’s 2007 hitting prowess derives from the fact that I tend to trend towards nerdy when it comes to baseball, and www.baseballreference.com is one of my most commonly visited websites. Anyway, instead of being known as a guy fighting for a batting title, most general sports fans who recognize Young’s name probably know him as “the guy who pinch-hit in the All Star game instead of Albert Pujols.” (Because we all know that deserved the abundance of media coverage it received.)

These days, instead of receiving the comprehensive coverage one might expect from a national outlet, it seems that the majority of airtime goes to: 1) the “large market” teams that are forced down our throats (the Yankees are struggling… let’s devote 15 minutes to discussing why); 2) stories blown completely out of proportion (Alex Rodriguez distracted someone trying to catch a pop fly? Sweet mercy, call the cops!); or, 3) contrived ideas that must seem good at some point, but no one cares about in the end (Who is “now”? Well… I am NOW changing the channel, so is it me?)

Those of you reading this who are unfamiliar with sports (sorry, is it rude of me to assume someone is reading this?), may not be clear on the terms “small market” and “large market” referenced earlier. Unfortunately, neither deals with a shady place in an overseas nation where one might purchase a magical monkey paw. In the sports world, “large market” refers to the teams in major cities with large fan bases and so much exposure in the media that the Amish could probably recite their starting lineups. Meanwhile, “small market” teams are the ones that receive media attention 1) if they’re in a championship game; or 2) if their stadiums spontaneously combust (note: as of 8 p.m., 7/18/07, such an even has never been recorded).

If one were to ask in important person in a national media organization why the large market teams receive so much more coverage, the answer would undoubtedly be because they have more fans. But, what if these teams have more fans, only because they receive more coverage (sorry to go all “chicken or the egg” on you here, but hear me out).

People are going to follow a team they can easily keep tabs on. If you live in Oklahoma (I apologize and hope it’s not in Ardmore… but I digress…) standard geographical pride would seem to point to picking a squad from Texas, Missouri or Colorado as your favorite baseball team. Yet, in a survey conducted by Sports Illustrated upon its 50th anniversary (yes, I do have the time to look these type of things up at this point of my life… I also have the Royals going on one TV, and the World Series of Pop Culture on the other, what of it?), 11-percent of the respondents from the Sooner state said the Yankees were their favorite baseball team – the second highest total in the state, ahead of all Texas teams, the Royals and the Rockies.

Granted, the Yankees were winning championships long before the Royals were considered a small-market squad, but I’m guess the abundance of teenagers you see wearing Yankees ball-caps were not around for Mickey Mantle’s glory days. Now if the Houston Astros saw as much TV time as the Yankees, don’t you suppose a few more Oklahomans might lean their direction?

Now my idea is not revolutionary, and I’m not suggesting a last-place club should be the top story on a sports recap show. It merely seems that more time should be devoted to the reason all the players in a particular sport have jobs… the games. If I have to choose between watching highlights of a Rangers-Mariners game and getting an analysis of Alex Rodriguez’s wife’s wardrobe decision, I’m going to choose the highlights. A small-market game should never take a back seat to a large-market “story.” That is, after all, the reason people are fans in the first place – the games.

***Ending note – Royals win, 6-5.

Things I don’t understand (part 2 in a never-ending series… because things beyond my comprehension pop up every day): The clothing edition

As you may come to understand from the title, there are some fashions and fads in today’s culture that I consider faux pas (I just punched myself for typing that… Honestly, is there a term that seems more suited for a stuck-up, too-rich-for-their-own-good person than “faux pas?” Just try saying it without feeling like someone named Tabby at a wine-and-cheese party… or anyone on E!).

Anyway, what follows is just a sampling of some of the fashion statements I don’t understand. I’m not saying they’re wrong, or that those who adhere to these trends are bad people (though they very well could be), they are just concepts I won’t abide by (especially in the case of the female clothing).

Flip-flops with long pants
To prove I’m not trying to begin a campaign to get these people run out of the country or put into their own schools, I’m going to start with this style, which is growing more and more common. I have friends who do this… but that doesn’t mean I understand it.

Personally, when I wear long pants (as opposed to short pants, i.e., “shorts”), it is because, 1) the temperature put forth by the current environmental weather conditions is cold enough that I would not feel comfortable wearing shorts; 2) I am in a setting where I do not feel that shorts provide a “dressy” enough appearance (i.e., work, church, wine-and-cheese parties… wait, no…); or 3) I am planning on being in an environmental area in which long grasses are prevalent (like the African savannah) and could potentially leave my legs itchy.

In each of the above-mentioned situations, it would not be plausible to have my legs sheathed but my feet exposed to the elements. I mean, my feet get just as cold as my legs; my feet aren’t particularly attractive, so I would not wish to flash them about in a dressing-up situation; and my feet are just as prone to getting itchy from tall grasses as my exposed legs.

Capri pants
What do you call a pair of pants so short they only reach halfway down your calves? They used to be called “garage-sale material,” but now they’re “Capri pants.” Have we entered an age where the lower-calf-to-sock-line area is something worth flaunting? Is wearing fabric on that area simply too constricting? I honestly don’t know what makes them fashionable, but I’m currently working on a new form of glove on which the only the fingernail area is cut off to take advantage of this craze.

Straw top hats
Granted, in my 24 years, I have seen only one of these… and that was in my time spent as a resident of Central Kansas, but it was simply ridiculous. Imagine a top hat like that worn by Harry and Lloyd in Dumb and Dumber, but completely made of straw. I understand, if worn for comedic value, but the gentleman wearing it was not taking that route. Perhaps this guy was on to something, and in the coming months they will catch on, along with straw tuxedos and rope neckties… frankly, I’m scared.

Sweatbands worn for no reason
The concept of sweatbands makes sense. They soak up sweat, and they are bands of cloth. I have nothing wrong with the donning of sweatbands… if you are running up and down a basketball court or a football field. Seriously, what is the point of wearing sweatbands if you are going to Physics 101? Are everyday activities really that strenuous? As a guy whose sweat glands are more active than most (it’s pretty much impossible to find a good way to describe sweating a lot… I’ve tried), even I know that sweatbands simply aren’t practical in social settings.


What will be the next item Derek does not understand?Philosphy?Elven script?How Damon Huard played so well against the 49ers?Does he even know?Find out down the road (that’s figurative speak… you can’t actually travel down a road to discover it… although that is an interesting idea).

Things I don’t understand… (the first in a series (if I get around to it))

I’ve been around for a while… over 24 years, actually. Thinking about that really puts in perspective how complicated life is. I’m not trying to get philosophical, I just mean that if I were to have the same job for 24 years (as opposed to my personal record of seven months) I would expect to know the ins and outs of that job like Harry Carey knew “Take me out to the ballgame.” In reality, I have been a person for 24 years (hopefully that is not a surprise), yet there are many things I see everyday that my bachelor’s degree-attaining brain cannot begin to comprehend. The list is much too long for this space, but here’s a taste…

Sports “fans”
Sports are great. I love sports to the point that much of my life has focused on them. From spending my petty amounts of money as a child on baseball cards, to writing about sports in my first “real” job (the money made me wonder if it was really a job at certain times), years of my life have centered on athletic competition. Today, there are few things that can draw my interest like the opportunity to watch one of my teams of choice.
With this obsession that may be borderline-unhealthy, I have noticed one deeply disturbing trend: fans that do nothing but rag on the team(s) they are fans of. How can people call themselves fans of said team if they do nothing but scoff at their play, pout about their executive decisions and follow up every loss with, “They’re horrible. I knew they would lose,”?
In reality, they can’t. It’s not accurate.
Seriously.
The online dictionary, www.dictionary.com (no questions about what you’re getting there) has one definition for fan that has nothing to do with blowing air. According to this definition, a fan is “an enthusiastic devotee, follower, or admirer of a sport, pastime, celebrity, etc.” Normally, when I admire something I don’t spite it, complain about it constantly or simply ignore it.
I’m not saying a complaint now and then is strictly forbidden. On occasion, they’re called for. Like if a hypothetical baseball team trades an all-star outfielder for a shortstop whose batting average struggles to eclipse his weight, the hypothetical fan has a right to be mad about that move (and nearly outraged when that hypothetical outfielder goes on to be hypothetically named the MVP of the hypothetical championship… remember, this is all hypothetical). What can’t happen is getting down on the team to the point that you are no longer taking interest in whether they win or lose. If that becomes the case, as discussed earlier, the person in question can no longer accurately be considered a fan.
They then become a poser fan. Because that sounds a little long, we’ll shorten it to pfan. To avoid any confusion, the “p” in “pfan” is silent. Thus, the correct pronunciation of “pfan” is “person with no sense of direction or loyalty that simply prefers to take the easy route and associate him-or-herself with whatever team seems to be playing well at the moment.”
Pfan… it’s a surprisingly complicated word.

What will be the next item Derek does not understand?
Thermodynamics?
The process of smelting?
Females in general?
Does he even know?
Find out tomorr- uh… next wee- no…. whenever he gets around to wasting time by writing something else.