I used to post regularly about the trivia challenges and tournaments my wife and I entered. Previously, we played as a couple against other teams that had between 4 and 10 players, and we did pretty well. We won several nights, and at least did respectably on the other nights.
Last Fall, we entered a semester-long tournament at Shakey's Pizza, and finally developed an honest-to-God TEAM that consisted of one friend of ours, plus threee friends of his. Two of his friends were nerdy and geeky, but the other guy was awesome. He knew tons of shit, but had the alarming habit of arguing relentlessy about each question. Although we did remarkably well with him, it ended up not being worth it, and we booted him off the team before the start of the Spring tournament. We lost that tournament, but had lots more fun without him.
In the summer, the tournament was suspended, and we saw our team numbers dwindle back down to three people. I identified another team that had also done well at the beginning of the summer, but had suffered terrible attrition down to three people. Therefore, two weeks prior to the start of the Fall tournament, I approached their team with the offer of a merger into a Super Team, and they agreed.
We now call ourselves "The Justice League" and we are unbeatable. We have won every single night since the tournament began, and all the other teams HATE us openly.
Cool.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Update: The new hair
My journey towards Locks of Love is almost over. I think I only have a couple of more inches to go before I hit the required 10 inches.
I absolutely LOVE having long hair, and I feel like I finally got to achieve one of my long-time wishes. And since I love having it so much, I will most probably grow it out an additional 2 inches, so that when I cut it, I'll have enough left over to keep a ponytail and start again.
Laura seems to be kind of freaked out by it, and I'm pretty sure she doesn't like it. She can accept my hair when it's pulled back, but she's definitely let me know she doesn't approve of it when it falls straight down.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Update: The new body
On July 26, 2009, I weighed an alarming 291 pounds. Since that time, I have lost an astonishing 97 pounds, and I'm down to 194. My goal is 186, so I have 8 more pounds to go. The main thing about my "goal" is that it's related entirely to Body Mass Index (BMI), which should be at 25 for me in order to be at a "normal" weight. Therefore, I'm still technically overweight since my BMI is 26, but I'll make it.
I used to dream of dropping a few pounds, maybe even a miraculous 50 pounds, but I could never even conceive of losing all the way down below 200 and arriving at a normal weight.
My pants were size 44-waist, and now I'm wearing either 33 or 34, depending on who makes them. I was wearing triple-X and double-X shirts, and now I wear either medium or large (again, depending on who makes them).
Damn.
I used to dream of dropping a few pounds, maybe even a miraculous 50 pounds, but I could never even conceive of losing all the way down below 200 and arriving at a normal weight.
My pants were size 44-waist, and now I'm wearing either 33 or 34, depending on who makes them. I was wearing triple-X and double-X shirts, and now I wear either medium or large (again, depending on who makes them).
Damn.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Update: The new house
We finished our new home, Vision Quest, and we moved in. We closed on the house June 30, although it still wasn't finished. Normally, a house must qualify for a Certificate of Occupancy by meeting all the local codes and standards, and you can't get a final appraisal or mortgage without one. However, since we are out in the middle of nowhere, there were no codes and standards to follow (our builder didn't even have to get a building permit!). And since there were no codes and standards to worry about, there was no Certificate of Occupancy to obtain, which meant that the appraiser had to do his job on an unfinished house.
We chose to go ahead with the closing because June 30 was the deadline for obtaining the large home-buyer's tax credit (even though it was later extended). So, we got the closing and signed the motgage on June 30, and finally moved in on August 7. The house is still not completely finished, as our builder is taking care of our little list of doo-dads to be taken care of, but he's pretty close. He still has to do a couple of things, like attach a towel bar, attach a mirror, attach two door knockers, etc. Little things like that.
And we're still in the process of moving stuff in a little bit at a time (from our storage unit and the old estate home), but we're mostly finished with that, too.
The house itself is incredibly gorgeous, and we're hundreds of acres away from our nearest neighbors. It is perfect. This morning, I walked 2/3 of a mile to get my newspaper and then back again - all along a country road in the dark. When I left for work, I drove around a pond and through a pasture and stand of pine trees. When I got home from work, I watched my wife slip and fall in the pond. She laughed all the way back to the house, riding in the bed of the pickup truck since she was wet and covered in mud. She took off her clothes on the front porch and I threw them in the washer.
Life is wonderful.
We chose to go ahead with the closing because June 30 was the deadline for obtaining the large home-buyer's tax credit (even though it was later extended). So, we got the closing and signed the motgage on June 30, and finally moved in on August 7. The house is still not completely finished, as our builder is taking care of our little list of doo-dads to be taken care of, but he's pretty close. He still has to do a couple of things, like attach a towel bar, attach a mirror, attach two door knockers, etc. Little things like that.
And we're still in the process of moving stuff in a little bit at a time (from our storage unit and the old estate home), but we're mostly finished with that, too.
The house itself is incredibly gorgeous, and we're hundreds of acres away from our nearest neighbors. It is perfect. This morning, I walked 2/3 of a mile to get my newspaper and then back again - all along a country road in the dark. When I left for work, I drove around a pond and through a pasture and stand of pine trees. When I got home from work, I watched my wife slip and fall in the pond. She laughed all the way back to the house, riding in the bed of the pickup truck since she was wet and covered in mud. She took off her clothes on the front porch and I threw them in the washer.
Life is wonderful.
Monday, September 13, 2010
It'll be just like starting over
Today is the first time I've even looked at this old blog since my last post of April 1, which means this is the first time I've seen the last comment left by Deeziner. Thanks, by the way.
And her comment only underlines how sad everything turned out. It was a giddy, happy time all those months ago. We were all excited to be going back to Listverse Forums again, and it was all going so well.
Until...
I don't blame dangorironhide for deleting my profile (and therefore all my posts). I've never blamed him. He's just a kid, and it's not like being an internet moderator was his chosen profession. He's a musician, like me, and if anybody can understand how badly and innocently a musician can fuck things up, it's me. Dangorironhide e-mailed me the instant it happened, and had the decency and respect to explain everything to me and apologize. That meant a lot to me then, and still does.
The thing that continues to chap my ass because it hurt so badly then (and still does), is that NO ONE else from Listverse managed to send as much as one syllable to me. I didn't get any kind of explanation, apology, remorse, or even a "fuck you, good riddance" from anyone at Listverse (other than dangorironhide's initial contact). There should have been something. Jamie, Cyn, Trigun, Mom, or the newly annointed astraya should have at least said SOMETHING. But all I got was silence. And that hurt worse than anything else. The Listverse forums look ridiculous with so many threads created by me, but now without any of my words in them. People's posts seem to respond to thin air. It's weird-looking, but I guess that's exactly what they wanted. Don't you think if they really did feel any remorse at all for such a gigantic boo-fu, they would have said something?
I can only surmise that it turned out the way they wanted. But six months later, it still hurts.
I'm not reviving this blog as a platform for a campaign against Listverse. I'm not reviving this blog in an attempt to recapture dead magic. I'm not even reviving this blog with the intent of anybody reading it (which I don't expect to happen).
I'm reviving it for me.
I need to write, and I'm too lazy to start a new completely brand new blog.
so this is me...writing again. In Alabama. During football season. Lord help us.
And her comment only underlines how sad everything turned out. It was a giddy, happy time all those months ago. We were all excited to be going back to Listverse Forums again, and it was all going so well.
Until...
I don't blame dangorironhide for deleting my profile (and therefore all my posts). I've never blamed him. He's just a kid, and it's not like being an internet moderator was his chosen profession. He's a musician, like me, and if anybody can understand how badly and innocently a musician can fuck things up, it's me. Dangorironhide e-mailed me the instant it happened, and had the decency and respect to explain everything to me and apologize. That meant a lot to me then, and still does.
The thing that continues to chap my ass because it hurt so badly then (and still does), is that NO ONE else from Listverse managed to send as much as one syllable to me. I didn't get any kind of explanation, apology, remorse, or even a "fuck you, good riddance" from anyone at Listverse (other than dangorironhide's initial contact). There should have been something. Jamie, Cyn, Trigun, Mom, or the newly annointed astraya should have at least said SOMETHING. But all I got was silence. And that hurt worse than anything else. The Listverse forums look ridiculous with so many threads created by me, but now without any of my words in them. People's posts seem to respond to thin air. It's weird-looking, but I guess that's exactly what they wanted. Don't you think if they really did feel any remorse at all for such a gigantic boo-fu, they would have said something?
I can only surmise that it turned out the way they wanted. But six months later, it still hurts.
I'm not reviving this blog as a platform for a campaign against Listverse. I'm not reviving this blog in an attempt to recapture dead magic. I'm not even reviving this blog with the intent of anybody reading it (which I don't expect to happen).
I'm reviving it for me.
I need to write, and I'm too lazy to start a new completely brand new blog.
so this is me...writing again. In Alabama. During football season. Lord help us.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
April 1 is Homecoming
I won't be able to wait for the weekend. I'm too excited. I have already heard from 19 people (ka is a wheel) and I'm feeling like a kid at Christmas. Tomorrow morning, I will repair my LV profile and start making posts again.
Remember, we must deny everything. The next time I talk to you on the LV side, I will have selective amnesia.
And no, bucslim, this ain't no April Fools gag.
But it would be funny as shit if I forgot how to log in again.
Now go then. There are other worlds than these.
Remember, we must deny everything. The next time I talk to you on the LV side, I will have selective amnesia.
And no, bucslim, this ain't no April Fools gag.
But it would be funny as shit if I forgot how to log in again.
Now go then. There are other worlds than these.
Floating an idea
The last two blog entries have contained some revealing comments to me. I wasn't aware that the Listverse Forums had dwindled so much. I also wasn't aware how severe the disconnect has been between some very good online friends. And I wasn't aware how badly many of you wanted to rekindle the so-called "old days" of Listverse Forums.
So let's do it.
What do you think of going home again?
I have an idea that needs a lot of feedback before we try it. Don't you think it would be cool as shit if a boatload of us just suddenly showed back up on the Forums and started posting again just like we used to? Same old topics? Same old funny, classic threads?
And we would all show up at the same time and pick up right where we left off WITHOUT A WORD! How cool would that be? We would all vow that we'd NEVER refer back to the "black hole" and we'd resume our posts and threads just as if nothing had ever happened. En masse. Simultaneously.
It would be like something out of The Dark Tower - "there are other worlds than these." A large group of folks would reappear like ghosts and pick things back up as if nothing had ever happened. And not only would we not ever refer back to the "black hole," we would all deny that it ever happened. If anyone asked about what the hell was happening, we'd reply with confusion. We'd all agree to say that we don't know what they're talking about. We would all pick right back up where we'd left off completely and totally as if nothing had ever happened and have a chance to rewrite reality.
The funny thing is that almost exactly one year ago, I attempted something very similar with the drive to get the most possible people online at the same time. Although we didn't hit our target number, I think we succeeded very well. It failed and worked at the same time.
The absolute only way - ONLY WAY - this could work is if we really all do it simultaneously. If we trickle in one or two at a time, it won't work. We couldn't pull of the "deception" unless we all showed back up at our previous posting levels all at the same time. And the second part of the key is total deniability.
Round 'em up. We all need to know how many folks we can get BEFORE we do it. It's possible that enough people aren't interested in this idea, and we need to know that. Once again, we all need to pick a specific date to give this a shot so that we all show up at the same time. I have lost touch with almost everyone. I speak fairly regularly with Lizzie, Gezza, and bucslim, but that's about it. The only significant contact I've had with cheeshygirl and Shifty have been through this blog. And that's it for me. It's going to take all of us to round up everyone BEFORE we do it.
Can we all agree to at least contact all the old regulars and report back here as to what their feelings are? What date should we shoot for? I have jury duty next week, but I would certainly be able to post early in the morning (like this) and in the evening during that week.
And it would be a much bigger impact if none of us posted anything on Listverse about it. We can discuss it here, on Facebook, or through e-mail, but let's don't make any kind of pre-event tip-off on the Forums. It's much cooler if we don't announce it - we just do it.
Can we get this rolling by the weekend? Is that too soon?
So let's do it.
What do you think of going home again?
I have an idea that needs a lot of feedback before we try it. Don't you think it would be cool as shit if a boatload of us just suddenly showed back up on the Forums and started posting again just like we used to? Same old topics? Same old funny, classic threads?
And we would all show up at the same time and pick up right where we left off WITHOUT A WORD! How cool would that be? We would all vow that we'd NEVER refer back to the "black hole" and we'd resume our posts and threads just as if nothing had ever happened. En masse. Simultaneously.
It would be like something out of The Dark Tower - "there are other worlds than these." A large group of folks would reappear like ghosts and pick things back up as if nothing had ever happened. And not only would we not ever refer back to the "black hole," we would all deny that it ever happened. If anyone asked about what the hell was happening, we'd reply with confusion. We'd all agree to say that we don't know what they're talking about. We would all pick right back up where we'd left off completely and totally as if nothing had ever happened and have a chance to rewrite reality.
The funny thing is that almost exactly one year ago, I attempted something very similar with the drive to get the most possible people online at the same time. Although we didn't hit our target number, I think we succeeded very well. It failed and worked at the same time.
The absolute only way - ONLY WAY - this could work is if we really all do it simultaneously. If we trickle in one or two at a time, it won't work. We couldn't pull of the "deception" unless we all showed back up at our previous posting levels all at the same time. And the second part of the key is total deniability.
Round 'em up. We all need to know how many folks we can get BEFORE we do it. It's possible that enough people aren't interested in this idea, and we need to know that. Once again, we all need to pick a specific date to give this a shot so that we all show up at the same time. I have lost touch with almost everyone. I speak fairly regularly with Lizzie, Gezza, and bucslim, but that's about it. The only significant contact I've had with cheeshygirl and Shifty have been through this blog. And that's it for me. It's going to take all of us to round up everyone BEFORE we do it.
Can we all agree to at least contact all the old regulars and report back here as to what their feelings are? What date should we shoot for? I have jury duty next week, but I would certainly be able to post early in the morning (like this) and in the evening during that week.
And it would be a much bigger impact if none of us posted anything on Listverse about it. We can discuss it here, on Facebook, or through e-mail, but let's don't make any kind of pre-event tip-off on the Forums. It's much cooler if we don't announce it - we just do it.
Can we get this rolling by the weekend? Is that too soon?
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
The Golden Boy
I'm on Spring Break this week, which translates into my wife's language as, "Hot Damn, I can give him a list of things that's at least 4,000 times larger than usual! Time's a'wastin." Therefore, I might not be posting as much to the blog as I'd like. I guess I'll need to go back to work in order to free up some spare time...
I was planning to create a blog yesterday about all the blooms that have popped out, and how we're on the local Floral Trail of homes. But, "the list" got the best of me. Then, I was going to create a blog today about a conversation we overheard last night at a restaurant full of really, really bad Southern accent imitations. But, bucslim diverted my attention with one of his comments about Listverse on the previous blog, so I guess you can say a different type of "list" got the best of me this time.
"Cubby" made an observation about Listverse that rings true with me concerning the downward spiral. I do remember a time when I couldn't wait to get on Listverse to join in with a dozen different conversations that were all heading in epic directions. Although I've never liked the comments section of the Mainsite, I always felt like the Forum was where the grownups played, and common-sense decorum prevailed. However, at one point, I noticed a "youthful" attitude that began creeping into the language and demeanor of the mods and some of our newer members. I'd seen that happen before in other places, and I was concerned.
As we all know, things happened and transpired. When I left the Listverse Forums, I really left for good, and I haven't been back since that final week when I logged on to capture some of my posts and delete my photos. Therefore, I don't have any idea as to what has been happening since then, and it's not a topic that has come up with any of my old friends. A good Southern gentleman doesn't linger, whine, and wallow. Instead, he knows how to stick to his word, gather up his dignity, and move on.
However, Cubby's comments made me wonder whether or not us old-timers had the rug pulled out from under us, or whether or not we were just too old and stubborn to adapt and evolve. I don't know. But consider this:
At our favorite restaurant, one of the original managers left two weeks ago in a huge blow-up. He was one of the first three managers, and he's one of the owners of the company that was set up to run the corporation (they now have three restaurants going strong since that original one opened in 1991). He always had his pick of the best shifts, and he was always off every Saturday and Sunday - he'd earned it. He was fairly brutal to work for, but he had to be in order to keep his college student employees in line. Suddenly, two weeks ago, he missed a manager's meeting, and reacted with a nuclear explosion when the owner called him on it. As she saw that he was deeply upset, she tried to back down, but before she could retreat, he quit and walked out. Nineteen years with the company were gone just like that. He has a wife and two kids - one of whom is special needs. He landed on his feet several days later by landing a manager's post at a local pizza place, but everybody at the old place was hurt and bewildered. Nobody saw it coming.
As my wife and I talked it over yesterday with the owner, my wife began to notice a pattern. She wondered if perhaps he was feeling a little left out since all of the new managers and shift leaders were much younger than he. Suddenly, a lightbulb went off over the owner's head, and she exclaimed, "Oh my God, that's it!"
ALthough this guy had been there since the beginning, he'd developed a reputation among all the employees as the least flexible person in the whole company. It was so bad that you just knew not to approach himm with anything that involved "changes." While all the other newer managers were coming up with all kinds of fresh, innovative ideas to grow the company and expand, he was getting left further and further behind. The older guy just wanted to be left alone and enjoy all the great times he'd been having all these years without having to ruin everything with all those damn changes.
The owner told us that in one of their brief arguments over his departure, he quipped, "I guess I'm just not the Golden Boy anymore," and she didn't know what the fuck he was talking about. But after my wife's insight, it all made sense to her. The owner realized she'd been showing clear favoritism and open praise to the team members who were willing to change, adapt, and move forward, and this guy was being totally left out.
So, is this what happened at Listverse? Were the old-timers bumped out by newbies who didn't respect our history, or were we victims of our own sedation?
Thoughts?
I was planning to create a blog yesterday about all the blooms that have popped out, and how we're on the local Floral Trail of homes. But, "the list" got the best of me. Then, I was going to create a blog today about a conversation we overheard last night at a restaurant full of really, really bad Southern accent imitations. But, bucslim diverted my attention with one of his comments about Listverse on the previous blog, so I guess you can say a different type of "list" got the best of me this time.
"Cubby" made an observation about Listverse that rings true with me concerning the downward spiral. I do remember a time when I couldn't wait to get on Listverse to join in with a dozen different conversations that were all heading in epic directions. Although I've never liked the comments section of the Mainsite, I always felt like the Forum was where the grownups played, and common-sense decorum prevailed. However, at one point, I noticed a "youthful" attitude that began creeping into the language and demeanor of the mods and some of our newer members. I'd seen that happen before in other places, and I was concerned.
As we all know, things happened and transpired. When I left the Listverse Forums, I really left for good, and I haven't been back since that final week when I logged on to capture some of my posts and delete my photos. Therefore, I don't have any idea as to what has been happening since then, and it's not a topic that has come up with any of my old friends. A good Southern gentleman doesn't linger, whine, and wallow. Instead, he knows how to stick to his word, gather up his dignity, and move on.
However, Cubby's comments made me wonder whether or not us old-timers had the rug pulled out from under us, or whether or not we were just too old and stubborn to adapt and evolve. I don't know. But consider this:
At our favorite restaurant, one of the original managers left two weeks ago in a huge blow-up. He was one of the first three managers, and he's one of the owners of the company that was set up to run the corporation (they now have three restaurants going strong since that original one opened in 1991). He always had his pick of the best shifts, and he was always off every Saturday and Sunday - he'd earned it. He was fairly brutal to work for, but he had to be in order to keep his college student employees in line. Suddenly, two weeks ago, he missed a manager's meeting, and reacted with a nuclear explosion when the owner called him on it. As she saw that he was deeply upset, she tried to back down, but before she could retreat, he quit and walked out. Nineteen years with the company were gone just like that. He has a wife and two kids - one of whom is special needs. He landed on his feet several days later by landing a manager's post at a local pizza place, but everybody at the old place was hurt and bewildered. Nobody saw it coming.
As my wife and I talked it over yesterday with the owner, my wife began to notice a pattern. She wondered if perhaps he was feeling a little left out since all of the new managers and shift leaders were much younger than he. Suddenly, a lightbulb went off over the owner's head, and she exclaimed, "Oh my God, that's it!"
ALthough this guy had been there since the beginning, he'd developed a reputation among all the employees as the least flexible person in the whole company. It was so bad that you just knew not to approach himm with anything that involved "changes." While all the other newer managers were coming up with all kinds of fresh, innovative ideas to grow the company and expand, he was getting left further and further behind. The older guy just wanted to be left alone and enjoy all the great times he'd been having all these years without having to ruin everything with all those damn changes.
The owner told us that in one of their brief arguments over his departure, he quipped, "I guess I'm just not the Golden Boy anymore," and she didn't know what the fuck he was talking about. But after my wife's insight, it all made sense to her. The owner realized she'd been showing clear favoritism and open praise to the team members who were willing to change, adapt, and move forward, and this guy was being totally left out.
So, is this what happened at Listverse? Were the old-timers bumped out by newbies who didn't respect our history, or were we victims of our own sedation?
Thoughts?
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Chuck Norris?
So there's this website called Listverse. I used to have sort of a self-appointed "job" over there posting a daily quote each day from a famous person who was celebrating a birthday that day. My routine was simple. First, I would check a bookmarked website listing famous people who were celebrating a birthday. Then, I would comb through another bookmarked website listing famous quotes from that person. After I picked a good quote from a cool person, I would do a Google search for a decent thumbnail photo of that person. I'd download that thumbnail to my computer, and then upload it to Photobucket. When I created the actual post in Listverse, I'd copy-and-paste the quote, the person's name (complete with birthdate and deathdate, if applicable), and the Photobucket link to the thumbnail. So although it wasn't an exhausting process, it was kind of involved.
Yesterday, I received a fairly threatening e-mail from Photobucket telling me that I'd apparently violated an infringement of a celebrity’s trademarks and Right to Publicity, and they had removed the photo. They further warned me that if I made a habit of doing that, they'd cancel my account.
*me shaking
They didn't tell me which celebrity it was, though, and I was curious. I wasted a lot of time combing through my dozens of Photobucket pages looking for a missing photo until I finally realized that I'd never find it that way. Therefore, I made a return to Listverse and began looking through the Daily Quotes until I found one with an "Image Deleted" square where a photo should be. I found it.
It was Chuck Norris.
The post was made March 10, 2009.
Are you fucking kidding me? Chuck Norris?
As if the man wasn't ridiculous enough, he's now tackling the Internet. Good luck censoring the Internet, goofbag.
And I love your new photos, by the way, you old fat fuck.
Yesterday, I received a fairly threatening e-mail from Photobucket telling me that I'd apparently violated an infringement of a celebrity’s trademarks and Right to Publicity, and they had removed the photo. They further warned me that if I made a habit of doing that, they'd cancel my account.
*me shaking
They didn't tell me which celebrity it was, though, and I was curious. I wasted a lot of time combing through my dozens of Photobucket pages looking for a missing photo until I finally realized that I'd never find it that way. Therefore, I made a return to Listverse and began looking through the Daily Quotes until I found one with an "Image Deleted" square where a photo should be. I found it.
It was Chuck Norris.
The post was made March 10, 2009.
Are you fucking kidding me? Chuck Norris?
As if the man wasn't ridiculous enough, he's now tackling the Internet. Good luck censoring the Internet, goofbag.
And I love your new photos, by the way, you old fat fuck.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Jury Duty
I will be on Spring Break next week. This only applies to work, however, and everything else (including this blog) will continue as usual. The week after Spring Break, I will be on Jury Duty.
I have never been called for Jury Duty before (I'm almost 50), and I have no idea what to expect. To begin with, Grancey's father was a circuit judge in our home county, so none of us have ever been called before. I guess enough time has passed since he died to put us back in the rotation, and I'm the first.
I'm excited, but as soon as I tell anyone about it, they groan and offer condolences. What the fuck is wrong with people? How can anyone piss and moan about the state of the nation when they're not willing to fulfill even the tiniest obligation of a free and just society? As I said, I'm looking forward to it, and fuck everybody else.
The day that I report (Monday, April 5) is two weeks before my band's Spring concert, so it's not like this has hit me at a highly convenient time. It's going to be hard for the band to take off TWO weeks (Spring Break plus my Jury Duty week) and then be ready to play a concert, but we'll have to see how they pull together. Plus, Grancey and I are building a house, and it's highly likely that we will be needed to make some last-minute decisions on the construction, and I will be unavailable for the whole week (at lease).
Regardless of all that, I'm still very excited about the Jury Duty, and I'm anxious to get started. Will the lawyers assume I'm a liberal because of my long ponytail and "miscast" me in the jury pool? I can't wait to find out!
Have any of you ever served on a jury?
I have never been called for Jury Duty before (I'm almost 50), and I have no idea what to expect. To begin with, Grancey's father was a circuit judge in our home county, so none of us have ever been called before. I guess enough time has passed since he died to put us back in the rotation, and I'm the first.
I'm excited, but as soon as I tell anyone about it, they groan and offer condolences. What the fuck is wrong with people? How can anyone piss and moan about the state of the nation when they're not willing to fulfill even the tiniest obligation of a free and just society? As I said, I'm looking forward to it, and fuck everybody else.
The day that I report (Monday, April 5) is two weeks before my band's Spring concert, so it's not like this has hit me at a highly convenient time. It's going to be hard for the band to take off TWO weeks (Spring Break plus my Jury Duty week) and then be ready to play a concert, but we'll have to see how they pull together. Plus, Grancey and I are building a house, and it's highly likely that we will be needed to make some last-minute decisions on the construction, and I will be unavailable for the whole week (at lease).
Regardless of all that, I'm still very excited about the Jury Duty, and I'm anxious to get started. Will the lawyers assume I'm a liberal because of my long ponytail and "miscast" me in the jury pool? I can't wait to find out!
Have any of you ever served on a jury?
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
No theme
There's no theme here. There's not anything pulling any of these things together in a clever conclusion. It's all random, but I've gotten to where I'm starting to hate that word "random" from all the overuse it's getting from my college students (as in, "Oh my God, that's sooooo random"), so I refuse to use that word in the post title. In fact, forget you even saw it earlier in the paragraph.
What word?
When I was in the 7th grade, I took typing class as an elective, and I typed out the following sentence as part of a class exercise - "My ears hurt from typing." For some reason, I've never forgotten that.
My iPod is loaded with over 100GB of music, and I really love all my music. The only time I don't love it is when it's set to "shuffle," and then I suddenly can't stand anything that pops up. I've also noticed that the "shuffle" feature seems to have a hidden camera, and it purposefully selects music that would likely get me embarrassed if anyone else could hear it. For example, this morning I had a "shuffle" thing going on, and right when a half-dozen African American students came bopping in the building together, my iPod went with "Man of Constant Sorrow." I'm so glad they couldn't hear it, because I would have lost every bit of coolness I'd built up with them over the semester.
My view of the news online is becoming increasingly slanted, and it has nothing to do with politics. I refuse to visit CNN.com anymore, because it seemed like every headline link I clicked took me to a freakin video instead of an article. I hate that. I am now no longer getting a balanced view of the world simply because CNN has a stupid webmaster.
I hate my sister-in-law, and there's no way I would ever call her on the phone. However, I keep her phone number stored in my phone, just in case she calls me, and then I'll know not to answer it. That is the entire purpose for having her number in my phone. How sick is that? By the way, her ring is Meredith Brooks' Bitch, but you probably already knew that..
Yesterday morning, a student of mine left the class in order to answer her phone. It started ringing right in the middle of Schumann, and she quickly leaped up and ran out of the room to answer it. I was kind of curious as to which type of emergency she was responding. The entire class - all of us - could hear her say, "Hello? Hello? Who? You've got the wrong number." This girl LEAPED out of her chair and the room to answer a call from a number she didn't even recognize.
Another student fell over in his chair yesterday. He leaned back too far, and there was that wonderful precious moment right when he knew he'd gone too far and couldn't save it, and I was looking right in his eyes when it happened. The last time I fell out of a chair was 1998, and I had a broken hand. I was sitting backstage at a play rehearsal, and my chair went back and then toppled off the backstage area down a two-foot drop. In made a helluva ruckus, and everybody came running up to see if I was okay, except for one person - my wife. She stood there and laughed while everybody else ran up to help me. I'm pretty sure that's why I love her.
I am giving a test on the Romantic Era the week after we come back from Spring Break, and I've decided that all the answers to the questions on page 3 will be "C." An entire page of the same letter-answer. I'm curious to see how many students actually have the courage to write down the same letter in each blank for the entire page.
My 20-year old neice has a habit of sticking a huge fake smile on her face whenever she says something that may be controversial. It's almost like she's trying to smooth over any potential rough spots in the conversation with a big old toothy smile to make it better. The funny part is that she types LOL in all of her messages in approximately the same place as the smile would go if she were speaking. Therefore, whenever I read her e-mails or texts, I know to beware of whatever she says if it's followed up by a LOL. I don't think she knows what it means.
Everyone learned how to write cursive in the 2nd grade. I skipped the 2nd grade. Therefore, I missed out on learning how to write cursive, and I still can't do it. I'm not ever allowed to write out checks, because nobody can read them. I was also born without tonsils, but I don't suspect that the two things are connected. However, that's what I tell people when they ask me why I can't write.
A week ago, our trivia team was waiting for the next round to start when one of them told a story about something funny that happened to him in graduate school with a foreign professor. When he finished the story, one of the other people at the table said, "Actually, that happened to me, not you. That's my story." Awkward...
What word?
When I was in the 7th grade, I took typing class as an elective, and I typed out the following sentence as part of a class exercise - "My ears hurt from typing." For some reason, I've never forgotten that.
My iPod is loaded with over 100GB of music, and I really love all my music. The only time I don't love it is when it's set to "shuffle," and then I suddenly can't stand anything that pops up. I've also noticed that the "shuffle" feature seems to have a hidden camera, and it purposefully selects music that would likely get me embarrassed if anyone else could hear it. For example, this morning I had a "shuffle" thing going on, and right when a half-dozen African American students came bopping in the building together, my iPod went with "Man of Constant Sorrow." I'm so glad they couldn't hear it, because I would have lost every bit of coolness I'd built up with them over the semester.
My view of the news online is becoming increasingly slanted, and it has nothing to do with politics. I refuse to visit CNN.com anymore, because it seemed like every headline link I clicked took me to a freakin video instead of an article. I hate that. I am now no longer getting a balanced view of the world simply because CNN has a stupid webmaster.
I hate my sister-in-law, and there's no way I would ever call her on the phone. However, I keep her phone number stored in my phone, just in case she calls me, and then I'll know not to answer it. That is the entire purpose for having her number in my phone. How sick is that? By the way, her ring is Meredith Brooks' Bitch, but you probably already knew that..
Yesterday morning, a student of mine left the class in order to answer her phone. It started ringing right in the middle of Schumann, and she quickly leaped up and ran out of the room to answer it. I was kind of curious as to which type of emergency she was responding. The entire class - all of us - could hear her say, "Hello? Hello? Who? You've got the wrong number." This girl LEAPED out of her chair and the room to answer a call from a number she didn't even recognize.
Another student fell over in his chair yesterday. He leaned back too far, and there was that wonderful precious moment right when he knew he'd gone too far and couldn't save it, and I was looking right in his eyes when it happened. The last time I fell out of a chair was 1998, and I had a broken hand. I was sitting backstage at a play rehearsal, and my chair went back and then toppled off the backstage area down a two-foot drop. In made a helluva ruckus, and everybody came running up to see if I was okay, except for one person - my wife. She stood there and laughed while everybody else ran up to help me. I'm pretty sure that's why I love her.
I am giving a test on the Romantic Era the week after we come back from Spring Break, and I've decided that all the answers to the questions on page 3 will be "C." An entire page of the same letter-answer. I'm curious to see how many students actually have the courage to write down the same letter in each blank for the entire page.
My 20-year old neice has a habit of sticking a huge fake smile on her face whenever she says something that may be controversial. It's almost like she's trying to smooth over any potential rough spots in the conversation with a big old toothy smile to make it better. The funny part is that she types LOL in all of her messages in approximately the same place as the smile would go if she were speaking. Therefore, whenever I read her e-mails or texts, I know to beware of whatever she says if it's followed up by a LOL. I don't think she knows what it means.
Everyone learned how to write cursive in the 2nd grade. I skipped the 2nd grade. Therefore, I missed out on learning how to write cursive, and I still can't do it. I'm not ever allowed to write out checks, because nobody can read them. I was also born without tonsils, but I don't suspect that the two things are connected. However, that's what I tell people when they ask me why I can't write.
A week ago, our trivia team was waiting for the next round to start when one of them told a story about something funny that happened to him in graduate school with a foreign professor. When he finished the story, one of the other people at the table said, "Actually, that happened to me, not you. That's my story." Awkward...
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
TRIVIA: The Beatles
By request, here's another Trivia round. These questions were written as part of a guest round last year, and the scoring is given after each question:
1) The only Beatles album that did not include the name of the band or the title of the album on the front cover was Abbey Road. Instead, it was just the iconic photograph of the four Beatles crossing the street. Which Beatle crosses Abbey Road first? (10 POINTS)
2) One of The Beatles met his wife on the set of their first movie, A Hard Day's Night. In less than 5 years, that wife would fall in love with Eric Clapton, and would become the subject of his song, Layla. Name the Beatle and name the wife. (20 POINTS - 10 points each)
3) All four of The Beatles have been married twice. Which was the only Beatle that did not divorce his first wife? (30 POINTS)
4) According to Paul, for whom did he write Hey Jude? (40 POINTS)
5) George Martin was The Beatles’ producer for every album except the last one, Let It Be. Who produced that one? (50 POINTS)
6) Which 2007 movie featured a fictional 60's rock star meeting the Beatles in India at the feet of the Maharishi, where a fight breaks out after John says “Paul’s a big fat cunt.” (60 POINTS)
1) The only Beatles album that did not include the name of the band or the title of the album on the front cover was Abbey Road. Instead, it was just the iconic photograph of the four Beatles crossing the street. Which Beatle crosses Abbey Road first? (10 POINTS)
2) One of The Beatles met his wife on the set of their first movie, A Hard Day's Night. In less than 5 years, that wife would fall in love with Eric Clapton, and would become the subject of his song, Layla. Name the Beatle and name the wife. (20 POINTS - 10 points each)
3) All four of The Beatles have been married twice. Which was the only Beatle that did not divorce his first wife? (30 POINTS)
4) According to Paul, for whom did he write Hey Jude? (40 POINTS)
5) George Martin was The Beatles’ producer for every album except the last one, Let It Be. Who produced that one? (50 POINTS)
6) Which 2007 movie featured a fictional 60's rock star meeting the Beatles in India at the feet of the Maharishi, where a fight breaks out after John says “Paul’s a big fat cunt.” (60 POINTS)
Monday, March 22, 2010
TRIVIA: Cats in the Movies
My wife and I used to play trivia three nights a week, but we've had to narrow that down to once a week, as house construction is taking up all of our time. At one of the places we used to play (but don't anymore), they asked for Guest Rounds, and Grancey and I created a ton of them. Now, we're just sitting on piles of Guest Round trivia questions, and they'll probably never get used.
One of my favorite rounds was an all-music round I created, where I would play portions of 5 different songs, and you had to name the artist and song title. The catch, though, was that ALL of the songs were by either Phil Collins or Genesis, and you had to be specific to get the points. I also created Beatles rounds (duh), a round based on people born on my birthday, a Brady Bunch round, and many, many others.
So try this one - it's called Cats in the Movies. We grade them by increasing difficulty - the first question is 10 points, the second question 20 points, etc., all the way up to 60 points for the sixth question. The most you can score is 220 points (210 for each main question and a 10-point bonus along with the first question). What can you score?
CATS IN THE MOVIES
1) In a 1961 movie, a woman named Holly throws a cat named Cat out of a taxi in New York City. Name the movie. BONUS (10 points): Name the actress that plays Holly.
2) In a 2000 movie, a Himalayan cat named Mr. Jinx lives with a family who is sitting around a dinner table and listening to a man named Gaylord explain how he can milk anything with nipples, including a cat. Name the movie.
3) In a 1999 movie, a black cat walks past a landing. Then, another black cat immediately walks by. It was either the same cat, a different cat, or it could have been déjà vu. Name the movie.
4) In a 1979 movie, a cat named Jonesy has a very bad experience aboard a spaceship. Name the movie.
5) In a 2001 movie, a tabby cat named Mrs. Norris suddenly turns into a teacher, and someone says it’s “bloody brilliant!” Name the movie (and be specific).
6) In seven different official James Bond movies, a white Persian cat without a name is owned by an iconic villain named Blofeld. Name the 1963 Bond movie that marks the cat's first appearance.
One of my favorite rounds was an all-music round I created, where I would play portions of 5 different songs, and you had to name the artist and song title. The catch, though, was that ALL of the songs were by either Phil Collins or Genesis, and you had to be specific to get the points. I also created Beatles rounds (duh), a round based on people born on my birthday, a Brady Bunch round, and many, many others.
So try this one - it's called Cats in the Movies. We grade them by increasing difficulty - the first question is 10 points, the second question 20 points, etc., all the way up to 60 points for the sixth question. The most you can score is 220 points (210 for each main question and a 10-point bonus along with the first question). What can you score?
CATS IN THE MOVIES
1) In a 1961 movie, a woman named Holly throws a cat named Cat out of a taxi in New York City. Name the movie. BONUS (10 points): Name the actress that plays Holly.
2) In a 2000 movie, a Himalayan cat named Mr. Jinx lives with a family who is sitting around a dinner table and listening to a man named Gaylord explain how he can milk anything with nipples, including a cat. Name the movie.
3) In a 1999 movie, a black cat walks past a landing. Then, another black cat immediately walks by. It was either the same cat, a different cat, or it could have been déjà vu. Name the movie.
4) In a 1979 movie, a cat named Jonesy has a very bad experience aboard a spaceship. Name the movie.
5) In a 2001 movie, a tabby cat named Mrs. Norris suddenly turns into a teacher, and someone says it’s “bloody brilliant!” Name the movie (and be specific).
6) In seven different official James Bond movies, a white Persian cat without a name is owned by an iconic villain named Blofeld. Name the 1963 Bond movie that marks the cat's first appearance.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
The decline of the airshow
My wife and I love to go to airshows - or at least we used to. Oh, we still go every year, but we just don't enjoy it as much, and we find ourselves getting bored and anxious to leave. The problem is that the organizers are ruining the shows by trying to make them more popular.
As an example, let me tell you about the Russell Mills Outlet Store. Russell Mills is a world-famous brand of athletic wear that is manufactured right here in Alabama - Benjamin Russell placed his home office and plant in Alex City, ALabama, and Russell is highly respected and competetive with Nike and UnderArmour. In the 80's, they opened a factory outlet store at the plant, and it was heaven on earth! The place was LOADED with discontinued t-shirts, shorts, jackets, etc., and everything in there was $1, $2, or $5. You could leave with an armload of stuff for $20, and it would be stuff they were going to throw out anyway. Oh yeah, you had to dig through a ton of stuff to find what you wanted, but that was part of the fun. And it was all good, quality Russell athletic wear. Then, somebody got the idea of trying to make the store more appealing to the ladies, and that was the beginning of the end. There were no longer random tables piled high with stacks of random t-shirts and shorts. Suddenly, everything was organized and color-coordinated. Suddenly, there were tons of matching jogging suits, matching leg-warmers, iron-on stations, headbands/wristbands, pink hats, and NO random t-shirts to be found anywhere. ANd the prices suddenly went way up, too. What had started out as the coolest "guy" clothing store on earth, devolved into a clone of every other athletic-wear store at the mall. At first, the women flocked to it. Within a year, they'd abandoned it, and it eventually closed down.
They ruined it by trying to make it more appealing to the wrong market.
Now, back to the airshows. I'm a WWII buff, and I LOVE looking at vintage airplanes. Grancey and I would go to the airshows every Spring, and I would be like a kid in a toy store. I'd race around like a total geek to each vintage aircraft and give to my wife a complete rundown on the history of each plane. There would always be P-38's, P-40’s, P-47's, P-51's, Spitfires, FW-190's, ME-109’s, ME-110’s, a very rare ME-262, Betty’s, Zero’s, Kate’s, B-17’s, B-24’s, B-25’s, Corsair’s, and several others. And the best part – the ABSOLUTE best part is that many of these things would FLY! They would crank up those gigantic engines, rumble down the runway, and FLY! Usually, my wife was fairly bored at my historical ravings, but she always loved to see those big bastards actually fly. The sound they made was incredible, and very unique, and I would say, “Now, try to imagine an entire squadron of those things all taking off and circling overhead at the same time.” You could pay to climb through a B-17. You could pay to RIDE in a P-51. Unbelievable.
And then something changed. I don’t know what happened, but the airshow flight demonstrations suddenly changed into all these stupid fucking multicolored biplane and ultra-light stunt flights. Who gives a shit to watch a basically overgrown radio-controlled plane do rolls and flips? That’s not an airshow – that’s a freakin circus. Where are the planes? The real planes? Not the cutesy little froo-froo planes, but the REAL ones? What happened to the vintage aircraft? At yesterday’s show in Columbus, Georgia (the home to the massive Ft. Benning US Army Base, by the way), there was only ONE vintage airplane – a lonely B-25. They let it fly, but it had to circle the western part of Columbus for 20 minutes while some stupid fucker in a purple and green stunt plane did the same stupid, fucking, boring dives/rolls/flips, etc., etc., etc. Okay, I know those are probably hard to do and are probably impressive to somebody, but I wanted to see the REAL plane fly. That single lonely B-25 made it POSSIBLE for you idiots to enjoy the freedom to allow you to fly your stupid toy airplane in the first place, so how about a little respect? And then, when the B-25 was finally allowed to give us a few flybys, they blasted some ridiculous Top Gun music from the loudspeakers so that you couldn't hear the fucking plane!!! I don’t want to hear Kenny Loggins – I want to hear those gigantic Detroit engines rumble past.
It’s been getting that way a little bit at a time over the past several years, but yesterday’s show was the worst. And the worst part about it – the airshow was PACKED! There were thousands of people wandering around everywhere spending a fortune on souvenir stands that were set up where the P-51’s used to sit. I’m afraid this is the wave of the future.
It’s the Russell Mills Outlet Store all over again.
As an example, let me tell you about the Russell Mills Outlet Store. Russell Mills is a world-famous brand of athletic wear that is manufactured right here in Alabama - Benjamin Russell placed his home office and plant in Alex City, ALabama, and Russell is highly respected and competetive with Nike and UnderArmour. In the 80's, they opened a factory outlet store at the plant, and it was heaven on earth! The place was LOADED with discontinued t-shirts, shorts, jackets, etc., and everything in there was $1, $2, or $5. You could leave with an armload of stuff for $20, and it would be stuff they were going to throw out anyway. Oh yeah, you had to dig through a ton of stuff to find what you wanted, but that was part of the fun. And it was all good, quality Russell athletic wear. Then, somebody got the idea of trying to make the store more appealing to the ladies, and that was the beginning of the end. There were no longer random tables piled high with stacks of random t-shirts and shorts. Suddenly, everything was organized and color-coordinated. Suddenly, there were tons of matching jogging suits, matching leg-warmers, iron-on stations, headbands/wristbands, pink hats, and NO random t-shirts to be found anywhere. ANd the prices suddenly went way up, too. What had started out as the coolest "guy" clothing store on earth, devolved into a clone of every other athletic-wear store at the mall. At first, the women flocked to it. Within a year, they'd abandoned it, and it eventually closed down.
They ruined it by trying to make it more appealing to the wrong market.
Now, back to the airshows. I'm a WWII buff, and I LOVE looking at vintage airplanes. Grancey and I would go to the airshows every Spring, and I would be like a kid in a toy store. I'd race around like a total geek to each vintage aircraft and give to my wife a complete rundown on the history of each plane. There would always be P-38's, P-40’s, P-47's, P-51's, Spitfires, FW-190's, ME-109’s, ME-110’s, a very rare ME-262, Betty’s, Zero’s, Kate’s, B-17’s, B-24’s, B-25’s, Corsair’s, and several others. And the best part – the ABSOLUTE best part is that many of these things would FLY! They would crank up those gigantic engines, rumble down the runway, and FLY! Usually, my wife was fairly bored at my historical ravings, but she always loved to see those big bastards actually fly. The sound they made was incredible, and very unique, and I would say, “Now, try to imagine an entire squadron of those things all taking off and circling overhead at the same time.” You could pay to climb through a B-17. You could pay to RIDE in a P-51. Unbelievable.
And then something changed. I don’t know what happened, but the airshow flight demonstrations suddenly changed into all these stupid fucking multicolored biplane and ultra-light stunt flights. Who gives a shit to watch a basically overgrown radio-controlled plane do rolls and flips? That’s not an airshow – that’s a freakin circus. Where are the planes? The real planes? Not the cutesy little froo-froo planes, but the REAL ones? What happened to the vintage aircraft? At yesterday’s show in Columbus, Georgia (the home to the massive Ft. Benning US Army Base, by the way), there was only ONE vintage airplane – a lonely B-25. They let it fly, but it had to circle the western part of Columbus for 20 minutes while some stupid fucker in a purple and green stunt plane did the same stupid, fucking, boring dives/rolls/flips, etc., etc., etc. Okay, I know those are probably hard to do and are probably impressive to somebody, but I wanted to see the REAL plane fly. That single lonely B-25 made it POSSIBLE for you idiots to enjoy the freedom to allow you to fly your stupid toy airplane in the first place, so how about a little respect? And then, when the B-25 was finally allowed to give us a few flybys, they blasted some ridiculous Top Gun music from the loudspeakers so that you couldn't hear the fucking plane!!! I don’t want to hear Kenny Loggins – I want to hear those gigantic Detroit engines rumble past.
It’s been getting that way a little bit at a time over the past several years, but yesterday’s show was the worst. And the worst part about it – the airshow was PACKED! There were thousands of people wandering around everywhere spending a fortune on souvenir stands that were set up where the P-51’s used to sit. I’m afraid this is the wave of the future.
It’s the Russell Mills Outlet Store all over again.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Behold, the peanut!
A long time ago, in a forum far, far away, I began a special interest thread by giving the following reason to live in Alabama:
"Alabama leads the world in the culinary presentation of the peanut."
And from there, the thread was on its way. I'd like a chance to revisit that particular Daily Reason for this new blog. Ladies and gentlemen, the peanut!
To begin with, Alabama is permanently known as the Land of Cotton. The old ancient photographs of acres and acres of cotton fields stretching out to the horizon are not so ancient - many parts of Alabama still look like that, and during the 19th century, cotton was definitely the #1 cash crop in Alabama. Therefore, the most hated, reviled creature in Alabama was the infamous insect known as the boll weevil. It's a tiny little snout-nosed beetle that feeds on the cotton flower bud, and destroys the plant's chances of producing cotton. In 1915, the state of Alabama was nearly laid to waste by the total destruction left by the boll weevil.
Many devastated farmers switched to other crops, and the southern counties of Alabama (affectionately known as L.A., which stands for "Lower Alabama") discovered the peanut. The newly found peanut crop single-handedly rescued the economies of most southern Alabama communities, and in fact, many towns in Alabama discovered that they were much better off with the peanut instead of cotton. Therefore, the city of Enterprise erected a statue in 1919 to honor and thank the boll weevil for forcing them to switch from cotton to the peanut, and it is the only known monument in the world erected to honor an agricultural pest.
At the exact same time, an agricultural researcher at Tuskegee named George Washington Carver began publishing some of his timely experiments to expand the many uses of the peanut. Many of the final numbers disagree with each other, but Carver published nearly 50 bulletins for farmers giving them over 100 creative recipes for the versatile peanut. He also created more than 100 products made from peanuts, including cosmetics, dyes, paints, plastics, gasoline, and nitroglycerin.For me, the situation of the boll weevil perfectly describes the will and backbone of my beloved Alabama. It is the ultimate example of "give us lemons, and we'll make lemonade." We took the devastation of the boll weevil and turned it to our advantage. Many of the vast and varied uses of the peanut in today's society are traced all the way back to the innovation and determination of the indomitable Alabama farmer.
Friday, March 19, 2010
The Dark Tower movie
As a fully addicted Tower junkie, I've spent a lot of time salivating over the impending film adaptation of Stephen King's Dark Tower series. For many years, I was convinced that the damn thing was impossible to film, because it spanned 7 volumes, many different worlds, and possibly hundreds of years in time. However, a couple of years ago I became aware that JJ Abrams, creator of Lost, Cloverfield, and Star Trek, had purchased the rights from Stephen King for $19 to begin the project in the summer of 2010. If anybody can do this thing, it's Abrams, and the fact that the rights deal was made for $19 solidifies my opinion that Abrams "gets it."
I also read recently that there was speculation that he would block shoot the entire series, which basically means he would shoot the ENTIRE multiple volume series in one massive, epic project, and then chop it up into installments in the editing room. That way, the entire cast would be locked in for the entire thing. Plus, this type of filming style guarantees that tiny cross-references from one film to the other are not "misplaced." I also read that Abrams and King were unsure whether it would be an extended TV series special (HBO or Showtime, for example), or a multiple-release for the cinema.
All the excitement has lead me to create my own Dark Tower soundtrack album (featuring all the prominent songs mentioned directly in the series), and spend a lot of time speculating on the perfect cast. So, here they are, keeping in mind that both Abrams and Stephen King like to recast the same folks from project to project in order to keep things "in the family:"
Thomas Jane as Roland Deschain. Jane has already starred in two of King's film adaptations (Dreamcatcher and The Mist) and is perfect for playing the dichotmously dark sided anti-hero. Plus, there's that amazingly cool scene at the beginning of The Mist where Jane's character has been working on an original painting that is obviously poster art for The Dark Tower. It would be the perfect "ka is a wheel" connection.
Dominic Monaghan as Eddie Dean. Monaghan plays Charlie in Abrams' TV series Lost, and has proven he can play a funny yet deadly heroin addict.
Zoe Saldana as Susannah/Odetta/Detta. She played Uhura in Abrams' Star Trek, and Neytiri in Avatar, and she's definitely the most kick-ass black female actress out there.
Kodi Smit-McPhee as Jake Chambers. The kid knocked me out in his portrayal of The Boy in The Road, and I've thought he was perfect for Jake ever since I saw him.
Matthew Fox as Flagg/Marten/Walter. I'm a little on the fence about this one, but I'm going with the fact that he magnificently plays Jack on Abrams' Lost. He can definitely turn on the creepy vibe when it's needed.
Jeremy Irons as Father Callahan. He's perfect, plus he would bring a lot of depth to a character who grows on me more and more each time I read it.
Leave this long-haired country boy alone (part 2)
There are several more interesting aspects of having long hair in 2010. For one thing, I’m apparently a Liberal. I’ve never really known exactly how to categorize my political views (I consider myself both Liberal and Conservative while simultaneously being neither Liberal nor Conservative), but several people have set me straight to the fact that I’m a Liberal. No question about it. Male w/ponytail = Liberal.
I find that complete strangers will make comments to me belittling Sarah Palin, or all those nutbag-crazy idiots who watch Fox News, or listen to Rush Limbaugh, or participate in Tea Parties. They’re not making light comments in order to test the water – they’re making HUGE assumptions that I will completely agree with them, and it’s all based on my ponytail. It happens in restaurants, in waiting rooms, at work, and pretty much everywhere else.
In addition to that, people seem to want to impress me because they assume I’m a cool guy since I have a ponytail. Of course, they couldn’t be more wrong, but they don’t know that. I’ve just noticed a markedly different attitude towards me – rather than avoid me or shake their heads shamefully at me, people seem to try their damndest to say ultra-cool things around me in the hopes that I will think they’re cool, too. It’s so weird.
I believe people also assume that I will be good at arguing since I have long hair. Therefore, I catch a whole lot less shit from folks – I think they’re actually afraid I’ll start some loud-mouthed long-haired hippie-freak rant and they simply give way to me rather than risk it.
The whole thing has almost been a fantastic qualitative behavioral study.
I find that complete strangers will make comments to me belittling Sarah Palin, or all those nutbag-crazy idiots who watch Fox News, or listen to Rush Limbaugh, or participate in Tea Parties. They’re not making light comments in order to test the water – they’re making HUGE assumptions that I will completely agree with them, and it’s all based on my ponytail. It happens in restaurants, in waiting rooms, at work, and pretty much everywhere else.
In addition to that, people seem to want to impress me because they assume I’m a cool guy since I have a ponytail. Of course, they couldn’t be more wrong, but they don’t know that. I’ve just noticed a markedly different attitude towards me – rather than avoid me or shake their heads shamefully at me, people seem to try their damndest to say ultra-cool things around me in the hopes that I will think they’re cool, too. It’s so weird.
I believe people also assume that I will be good at arguing since I have long hair. Therefore, I catch a whole lot less shit from folks – I think they’re actually afraid I’ll start some loud-mouthed long-haired hippie-freak rant and they simply give way to me rather than risk it.
The whole thing has almost been a fantastic qualitative behavioral study.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Leave this long-haired country boy alone (part 1)
I decided to grow out my hair and donate it to the Locks of Love when it gets long enough. The last haircut I got was October, 2008, and I anticipate that I will cut off a 10" ponytail sometime this Fall after two years of growth. Before beginning on this adventure, I made sure I got clearance from the Big 3 - my wife, my parents, and my boss. However, if I were to be totally honest, the whole thing is kind of self-indulgent. All I really wanted to do was grow out my damn hair again, and I needed a strong rationalization for doing so - Locks of Love just happened to be handy.
It was easy to convince Grancey that I should grow out my hair for a good cause, because she was completely convinced that I would never be able to stand it long enough to get it that long. She was up for it just for the potential fun in seeing me tortured by my own hair, and she made many dire predictions as to how I would never survive the Alabama summers with long hair. She did, however, make the observation that if I had long hair while being obese, I would "look like Meatloaf," so I promised to lose weight (which is another thing I believe she assumed I couldn't do). Wrong on both counts, sweetie.
Normally, my parents would have gone ballistic at the idea of me having long hair (I know I'm almost 50, but it's a Southern thing - you can't disappoint mama and daddy). However, I have two sisters who are retired and one brother who was recently fired, so I'm suddenly the Fiscal Patriarch of the family, and that gives me a little more clout than I usually have.
It was also easy to convince my bosses (department chair, dean, and president), because I am a college professor, and it's not unusual to see male college professors sporting ponytails all the time. In fact, whenever our college president sees me, she makes me turn around so she can grab my ponytail and pull it to judge its length. I know, I know - it's techinically sexual harrassment, but as long as it makes her happy, I'm cool with it.
What none of them all realize is that I have been DESPERATE to have long hair again for a long, long time. I'm like Br'er Rabbit in the briar patch. I LOVE having hair fall down my back. I LOVE being able to shake it like the Beatles or AC/DC to loud music. I LOVE getting it blown out of my scrunchy and having to tuck it back down behind my ear. I LOVE feeling the weight of the ponytail flip over onto my shoulder when I turn my head quickly. I LOVE being able to smell my shampoo on my hair. I LOVE brushing it out at night. I LOVE absent-mindedly braiding my ponytail behind my head while I watch TV. Therefore, I have decided to grow out my hair an additional 2" beyond what's required for Locks of Love, because I want to have enough hair for another ponytail after I cut off the donation. I love it so much, I'm going to immediately start the next ponytail right away. I figure as long as I can keep up this subterfuge of donating hair to a charity, I can trick people into allowing me to enjoy long hair for the rest of my life. Hell, most guys my age are dealing with the problem of not having any hair, so I figure I might as well enjoy what I've got, right?
Perhaps the weirdest aspect of the whole adventure has been the negative reactions I've gotten from some folks about Locks of Love. They don't have a problem with me donating my hair to a charity, but just not that one. Apparently, their objections are sourced to a bogus internet urban legend that Locks of Love is a ripoff. Trust me, I've checked into it and I've done my due diligence - I'm going with Locks of Love. If anyone has a problem with that, then fuck you. You can donate your hair wherever you want, and I won't give you any shit about it. In fact, I'll say, "Way to go, that's awesome." I just expect the same in return. I will never understand the type of person who feels obligated to rain on the parade of EVERY damn thing you try to do. Even charity.
The second part of this post (whenever I get back to it) will deal more with the other types of reactions I've gotten from people concerning my long hair.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Old cars
Today’s Reason to Live in Alabama: Vintage automobiles are given the respect they deserve.
We don't have any of that pesky "vehicle inspection" baloney in Alabama. If it moves, you can drive it, and the Alabama highways frequently resemble living displays of car museums. I'm not talking about the exotic, rare, one-in-a-million kinds of cars that you might see only once in your life (a Bugatti or Lamborghini). I'm talking about the kinds of cars that you only THOUGHT you'd never see again in your life (a '68 Chevelle or a '53 Studebaker).
I mean, what's the point of having a '56 Ford F-100 if you can't drive it down the road, burning oil, and fumigating the entire countryside?
Plus, all American cars built before the mid-70's use conventional ignition (not any of that electronic crap). That means if any kind of nuclear device is detonated nearby, the resulting Electro-Magnetic Pulse will fry the circuitry of every modern car sitting in the driveway or on the highway, but not the old ones. Suddenly, the goofbag driving the '72 Ford Pinto Station Wagon will look like a genius, because his car will be the only one to still crank and run during the dreaded post-apocalypse.
And we recognize, honor, and respect that type of forward-thinking in Alabama...
We don't have any of that pesky "vehicle inspection" baloney in Alabama. If it moves, you can drive it, and the Alabama highways frequently resemble living displays of car museums. I'm not talking about the exotic, rare, one-in-a-million kinds of cars that you might see only once in your life (a Bugatti or Lamborghini). I'm talking about the kinds of cars that you only THOUGHT you'd never see again in your life (a '68 Chevelle or a '53 Studebaker).
I mean, what's the point of having a '56 Ford F-100 if you can't drive it down the road, burning oil, and fumigating the entire countryside?
Plus, all American cars built before the mid-70's use conventional ignition (not any of that electronic crap). That means if any kind of nuclear device is detonated nearby, the resulting Electro-Magnetic Pulse will fry the circuitry of every modern car sitting in the driveway or on the highway, but not the old ones. Suddenly, the goofbag driving the '72 Ford Pinto Station Wagon will look like a genius, because his car will be the only one to still crank and run during the dreaded post-apocalypse.
And we recognize, honor, and respect that type of forward-thinking in Alabama...
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Barefoot in March
Today’s reason to live in Alabama: Start going barefoot in March, because Spring Break really is during Spring weather.
Over the next month, each school system and college system around me will be taking their week-long Spring Breaks. I don't know of anyone sitting in a restaurant nearby saying, "Okay, dude, ROAD TRIP! Let's go to New Jersey....." However, many folks north of here are either plotting to pass through Alabama on the way to Florida, or are plotting to stop in Alabama at beautiful Gulf Shores. Either way, our highways, hotels, and restaurants are going to be packed for the next month all over the state.
As they cross the state line and come further south, they will see lawns turning green, trees and shrubs budding out, and flowers everywhere (forsythia, dogwood, redbud, yoshino, quince, camellia, azalea, rose, hyacinth, daffodil, peony, and many, many others). They will swim in the Gulf of Mexico, while southerners will stand by and gawk, "What the hell is wrong with those people? That water is freezing!"
I love Spring in Alabama.
FROM THE MAILBAG: I received several replies from folks about the new blog, and I thought I'd answer several of the more frequently asked questions.
Q) It sure is a pain in the ass to leave a comment. Why did you ask us to do this?
A) I don't know why it is so hard to get the blog to accept your comments. I've never left a comment on anyone's blog before, so I don't know the procedure for setting things up. Several people have talked about Wordpress not working, and so forth, but I don't have an answer. Maybe Juggz or someone with much more tech-smarts than me could tell folks how to do it. Otherwise, I'm sorry it seems to be harder than I anticipated.
Q) Why didn't you name this blog "Sweet Home Alabama," like your old journal used to be called?
A) Consider it done.
Q) Weren't you a little harsh on Jamie in your first post?
A) That was certainly not my intention. Listverse belongs to Jamie, and it is his site. He runs it the way he prefers, and that suits me perfectly fine. If I disagree with some of his procedures, policies, or decisions, it doesn't mean that I advocate a change for the website, because it's his - not mine. I also don't visit Fark anymore, but it doesn't mean I think they should change their site to suit me. I just moved on. Same with Listverse. I loved AOL, TFP, Listverse, and everywhere else in between, and none of what transpired diminished my affection. I respect Jamie and all the massive amounts of hard work he put into his site and franchise. But I moved on.
Q) Is there a way we can be notified when you make a new post?
A) I don't know.
Q) Do you take requests?
A) Hell, yes! Last night's weight-loss post was directly due to a request by Kim.
Q) Who in the hell gave out the link to "Cubby?"
A) I'm still trying to track that one down...
Over the next month, each school system and college system around me will be taking their week-long Spring Breaks. I don't know of anyone sitting in a restaurant nearby saying, "Okay, dude, ROAD TRIP! Let's go to New Jersey....." However, many folks north of here are either plotting to pass through Alabama on the way to Florida, or are plotting to stop in Alabama at beautiful Gulf Shores. Either way, our highways, hotels, and restaurants are going to be packed for the next month all over the state.
As they cross the state line and come further south, they will see lawns turning green, trees and shrubs budding out, and flowers everywhere (forsythia, dogwood, redbud, yoshino, quince, camellia, azalea, rose, hyacinth, daffodil, peony, and many, many others). They will swim in the Gulf of Mexico, while southerners will stand by and gawk, "What the hell is wrong with those people? That water is freezing!"
I love Spring in Alabama.
FROM THE MAILBAG: I received several replies from folks about the new blog, and I thought I'd answer several of the more frequently asked questions.
Q) It sure is a pain in the ass to leave a comment. Why did you ask us to do this?
A) I don't know why it is so hard to get the blog to accept your comments. I've never left a comment on anyone's blog before, so I don't know the procedure for setting things up. Several people have talked about Wordpress not working, and so forth, but I don't have an answer. Maybe Juggz or someone with much more tech-smarts than me could tell folks how to do it. Otherwise, I'm sorry it seems to be harder than I anticipated.
Q) Why didn't you name this blog "Sweet Home Alabama," like your old journal used to be called?
A) Consider it done.
Q) Weren't you a little harsh on Jamie in your first post?
A) That was certainly not my intention. Listverse belongs to Jamie, and it is his site. He runs it the way he prefers, and that suits me perfectly fine. If I disagree with some of his procedures, policies, or decisions, it doesn't mean that I advocate a change for the website, because it's his - not mine. I also don't visit Fark anymore, but it doesn't mean I think they should change their site to suit me. I just moved on. Same with Listverse. I loved AOL, TFP, Listverse, and everywhere else in between, and none of what transpired diminished my affection. I respect Jamie and all the massive amounts of hard work he put into his site and franchise. But I moved on.
Q) Is there a way we can be notified when you make a new post?
A) I don't know.
Q) Do you take requests?
A) Hell, yes! Last night's weight-loss post was directly due to a request by Kim.
Q) Who in the hell gave out the link to "Cubby?"
A) I'm still trying to track that one down...
Monday, March 15, 2010
The Eastwood Diet
This is about my weight loss. I call it The Eastwood Diet, aka The Diet With No Name. On July 26 of last summer, I weighed an alarming 291 pounds. This morning, a little over 8 months later, I weighed 209 pounds. My Body Mass Index has dropped from 38.4 to 27.9, which is still technically "overweight" by 18 pounds. So, I still have some more to go. I used to wear size 46 pants and XXXL shirts. Now, I wear 34 pants and L shirts. I haven't been this size since college.
The whole weight-loss thing started last Summer with some basic research. I learned that the American food industry purposefully exploits known combinations of sugar/fat/salt in their prepared/processed foods - combinations that PHYSICALLY effect the hypothalmus and nearly force half the American population to overeat without having the ability to stop. The addiction level of these combos of sugar/fat/salt are almost as high as cocaine levels in lab rats. They know this. They have experts create their menu items specifically designed to snag people who are susceptible to overeating and cannot stop themselves.
So, I started a new lifestyle (I refuse to call it a diet) that involves eating less, eating good calories instead of bad calories, and being more active. I did not join a gym. I did not begin some kooky diet regimen. I just started living correctly, and eating like a grown-up. Overeating is what causes obesity in normal people - end of story. And therefore, the only remedy for obesity is to stop eating so friggin much. I do some light calisthentics and stationary biking, but I don't do those things for weight-loss, because exercise is NEVER a strategy for weight-loss. Exercise promotes cardio-health, muscle and bone strength, etc., but is NEVER a solution to obesity. You would have to walk almost 10 miles a day every day in order to achieve the same weight-loss benefit as simply cutting 1000 calories per day out of your diet. The only way to battle obesity is to stop eating for pleasure, or for social obligation, or for depression, or for reward, or for stress, or for therapy. We eat in order to provide nutrients to our body's organs so they can function normally. That is the only reason for eating, and anyone who is obese can never become normal again without accepting that.
I have noticed an odd thing when people ask about my weight loss - no one will accept that what I've done is to change my lifestyle. I don't overeat, I rarely snack, I'm no longer addicted to foods high in sugar/salt/fat, I only eat enough food to keep hunger at bay until the next meal, I don't eat refined carbohydrates, I stay in constant "contact" with how my body feels, and I don't eat for social obligations/stress/reward/pleasure. When I try to explain that to anyone, they instantly cut me off and say, "Oh, it's the Blah Blah Diet."
People can't accept that someone can lose weight by simply becoming healthy and converting to a permanent, healthy lifestyle - it has to have a published label for them to understand it. And they usually say something like, "And on the Blah Blah Diet, you can eat all the chocolate cake, Snickers bars, and ice cream you want, and still lose weight!" But if being healthy is your motivation, why would you WANT to keep eating all that? Translation of typical diets: I'm an American, and I demand to eat as much of whatever I want without changing anything about my life, and stay skinny. In fact, the only person (other than my wife and my father) who seems to understand what I'm doing is one of my faculty colleagues who is from Darfur. He was the first person at work to mention my weight loss, and he asked me what I was doing different. I told him I was no longer eating like an American. He threw his head back and laughed and said, "I know EXACTLY what you mean." I have another colleague at work who tried to lose weight last Spring, and he gained it all back again by Christmas. Whenever he's not glaring at me, he's busy telling me how dangerous and unhealthy my weight loss has been in the long run. It's obvious that he doesn't want me to successfully lose weight the hard way, and he's not the only one.
Since losing so much weight, I'm more alert, more energetic, but (sadly) still just as stubborn and bullheaded as always. Apparently, those characteristics aren't weight-related.
The whole weight-loss thing started last Summer with some basic research. I learned that the American food industry purposefully exploits known combinations of sugar/fat/salt in their prepared/processed foods - combinations that PHYSICALLY effect the hypothalmus and nearly force half the American population to overeat without having the ability to stop. The addiction level of these combos of sugar/fat/salt are almost as high as cocaine levels in lab rats. They know this. They have experts create their menu items specifically designed to snag people who are susceptible to overeating and cannot stop themselves.
So, I started a new lifestyle (I refuse to call it a diet) that involves eating less, eating good calories instead of bad calories, and being more active. I did not join a gym. I did not begin some kooky diet regimen. I just started living correctly, and eating like a grown-up. Overeating is what causes obesity in normal people - end of story. And therefore, the only remedy for obesity is to stop eating so friggin much. I do some light calisthentics and stationary biking, but I don't do those things for weight-loss, because exercise is NEVER a strategy for weight-loss. Exercise promotes cardio-health, muscle and bone strength, etc., but is NEVER a solution to obesity. You would have to walk almost 10 miles a day every day in order to achieve the same weight-loss benefit as simply cutting 1000 calories per day out of your diet. The only way to battle obesity is to stop eating for pleasure, or for social obligation, or for depression, or for reward, or for stress, or for therapy. We eat in order to provide nutrients to our body's organs so they can function normally. That is the only reason for eating, and anyone who is obese can never become normal again without accepting that.
I have noticed an odd thing when people ask about my weight loss - no one will accept that what I've done is to change my lifestyle. I don't overeat, I rarely snack, I'm no longer addicted to foods high in sugar/salt/fat, I only eat enough food to keep hunger at bay until the next meal, I don't eat refined carbohydrates, I stay in constant "contact" with how my body feels, and I don't eat for social obligations/stress/reward/pleasure. When I try to explain that to anyone, they instantly cut me off and say, "Oh, it's the Blah Blah Diet."
People can't accept that someone can lose weight by simply becoming healthy and converting to a permanent, healthy lifestyle - it has to have a published label for them to understand it. And they usually say something like, "And on the Blah Blah Diet, you can eat all the chocolate cake, Snickers bars, and ice cream you want, and still lose weight!" But if being healthy is your motivation, why would you WANT to keep eating all that? Translation of typical diets: I'm an American, and I demand to eat as much of whatever I want without changing anything about my life, and stay skinny. In fact, the only person (other than my wife and my father) who seems to understand what I'm doing is one of my faculty colleagues who is from Darfur. He was the first person at work to mention my weight loss, and he asked me what I was doing different. I told him I was no longer eating like an American. He threw his head back and laughed and said, "I know EXACTLY what you mean." I have another colleague at work who tried to lose weight last Spring, and he gained it all back again by Christmas. Whenever he's not glaring at me, he's busy telling me how dangerous and unhealthy my weight loss has been in the long run. It's obvious that he doesn't want me to successfully lose weight the hard way, and he's not the only one.
Since losing so much weight, I'm more alert, more energetic, but (sadly) still just as stubborn and bullheaded as always. Apparently, those characteristics aren't weight-related.
The frozen plastic Auburn cup
Out of all the many, many upcoming reasons to discuss about living in Alabama, I will probably come back to the gorgeous foliage more than anything else. Spring is officially one week away, but things are FINALLY beginning to bloom where I live.
I say "finally" because Spring is a little late this year, due to an uncharacteristically brutal Winter. Although we only had one significant snowfall in Alabama (same as last year), the consecutive days and nights of frigid temperatures were highly unusual. It was so cold that our pond froze over - it's a 3-acre pond, and ponds DO NOT freeze over in Alabama. I don't ever remember it happening in my lifetime. When we lived in Iowa, it was an expected occurrence each year, but it's almost an impossibility in Alabama. Also, the air ALWAYS feels damp in Alabama, even when it's below-freezing, so the low temps in Alabama always feel colder to me than anywhere else. It's the kind of cold that gets into your clothes and under your skin, and you can't get rid of it. In Iowa, you could easily layer the cold away from you, but in Alabama you almost need a diving wetsuit to stay warm in Winter.
One of the funny things that happened with the frozen pond involved a plastic Auburn cup. During the previous summer, Grancey and I stocked the pond with bass, bluegill, grass carp, and minnows. Instead of getting an expensive food-throwing machine, we decided we'd just drive out there ourselves everyday and toss the food in by hand. We bought a GINORMOUS bag of gamefish pellets, and I separated it into 8 plastic containers that had once been kitty litter buckets (not used kitty litter, good God, Cubby, what were you thinking?). We kept a container of fish food in each car at all times, so we could always feed the fish no matter which car we were in. One day, Grancey was using a plastic Auburn cup to scoop the food out of the container and sling it out into the water, and she managed to sling the cup along with the food. The plastic cup sailed way out onto the pond, and she couldn't reach it with anything. We watched it self-propel itself directly to the center of the pond and just sit there, taunting us.
Now, the pond is home to many different types of wildlife - gamefish, trash fish, turtles, grebes, herons, kingfishers, a wayward beaver, wasps, dragonflies, and - of course - water moccasins (also known as the cottonmouth). We have seen plenty of moccasins shooting across the surface of the water many times, but they are also known to swim underwater where you can't see them. For that reason (and that was reason enough alone), I was not about to put one toe in that stupid water to retrieve some damn cup. Grancey wanted me to go get the cup, because it wrecked the entire feng shui of the little bucolic pond atmosphere we had going, but screw that. I wasn't going after ANYTHING in that water.
Instead, we both turned into Mr. and Mrs. Wile E. Coyote, as we kept returning to the pond day after day with these outrageous contraptions we'd conceptualized and built for the sole purpose of getting that damned Auburn cup out of the pond. We tried to create waves that would send the cup sailing toward the opposite bank where we could easily pick it up, but the cup only bobbed in the waves. Apparently, we had both forgotten that water doesn't actually move forward in a wave - merely up and down. Then, we tried to connect various lengths of poles together with a net on the end to try and snare it, but it was way too far out for that. When it was an especially windy day, we'd sit on the bank like kids at a baseball game hoping for the wind to blow it in our direction so we could snag it. Nope. Finally, in the Fall, we both resigned ourselves to the fact that we would just have to wait it out for the cup to gradually work its way to the edge where we could reach it, but it managed to get hung in the reeds towards the backside of the pond. Great. Every day, we would drive around the pond, looking at the wildlife and taking pictures, and one of us would be obligated to say at some point, "There's that damn cup."
As I mentioned before, the temperatures in January were so severe that the pond eventually froze over. Now, I would never be so stupid as to step out onto the ice, but it was definitely frozen solid. While walking around the pond one Saturday afternoon and playing with the ice(throwing various pieces of debris like rocks and sticks to watch them bounce and slide across the frozen surface), Grancey shouted that she could see the cup! It had managed to float over to the edge, and was actually touching the bank at the very back edge of the pond where we could reach it. Oh, frabjous day! Calloo! Callay!
I climbed down the embankment where the cup was positioned in the water, and casually reached down to grab it. I actually put my hand on the accursed cup! But it wouldn't budge. It was frozen in place! It was stuck half in and half out of the water, with the ice frozen solid all around it. I yanked at it. I grabbed a stick and beat at the ice. I wiggled around and hung my foot over the ice and kicked at it trying to break through. Nothing.
It was the Excalibur of Macon County.
And I was not worthy.
And Grancey laughed hysterically.
We returned to the spot each day, and I pounded the ice with rocks, limbs, my boots, and everything else I could grab to somehow break through and get that damn cup out of the pond. In the end, all it took was waiting a little longer for the temperatures to return to normal. The ice eventually melted on its own, and one glorious day in February, I was able to casually pull the cup out of the water.
It now rests on a crate in the garage, and we will move it to a place of honor somewhere around the pond this Summer in a solemn ceremony. Hey, the cup has earned it.
I say "finally" because Spring is a little late this year, due to an uncharacteristically brutal Winter. Although we only had one significant snowfall in Alabama (same as last year), the consecutive days and nights of frigid temperatures were highly unusual. It was so cold that our pond froze over - it's a 3-acre pond, and ponds DO NOT freeze over in Alabama. I don't ever remember it happening in my lifetime. When we lived in Iowa, it was an expected occurrence each year, but it's almost an impossibility in Alabama. Also, the air ALWAYS feels damp in Alabama, even when it's below-freezing, so the low temps in Alabama always feel colder to me than anywhere else. It's the kind of cold that gets into your clothes and under your skin, and you can't get rid of it. In Iowa, you could easily layer the cold away from you, but in Alabama you almost need a diving wetsuit to stay warm in Winter.
One of the funny things that happened with the frozen pond involved a plastic Auburn cup. During the previous summer, Grancey and I stocked the pond with bass, bluegill, grass carp, and minnows. Instead of getting an expensive food-throwing machine, we decided we'd just drive out there ourselves everyday and toss the food in by hand. We bought a GINORMOUS bag of gamefish pellets, and I separated it into 8 plastic containers that had once been kitty litter buckets (not used kitty litter, good God, Cubby, what were you thinking?). We kept a container of fish food in each car at all times, so we could always feed the fish no matter which car we were in. One day, Grancey was using a plastic Auburn cup to scoop the food out of the container and sling it out into the water, and she managed to sling the cup along with the food. The plastic cup sailed way out onto the pond, and she couldn't reach it with anything. We watched it self-propel itself directly to the center of the pond and just sit there, taunting us.
Now, the pond is home to many different types of wildlife - gamefish, trash fish, turtles, grebes, herons, kingfishers, a wayward beaver, wasps, dragonflies, and - of course - water moccasins (also known as the cottonmouth). We have seen plenty of moccasins shooting across the surface of the water many times, but they are also known to swim underwater where you can't see them. For that reason (and that was reason enough alone), I was not about to put one toe in that stupid water to retrieve some damn cup. Grancey wanted me to go get the cup, because it wrecked the entire feng shui of the little bucolic pond atmosphere we had going, but screw that. I wasn't going after ANYTHING in that water.
Instead, we both turned into Mr. and Mrs. Wile E. Coyote, as we kept returning to the pond day after day with these outrageous contraptions we'd conceptualized and built for the sole purpose of getting that damned Auburn cup out of the pond. We tried to create waves that would send the cup sailing toward the opposite bank where we could easily pick it up, but the cup only bobbed in the waves. Apparently, we had both forgotten that water doesn't actually move forward in a wave - merely up and down. Then, we tried to connect various lengths of poles together with a net on the end to try and snare it, but it was way too far out for that. When it was an especially windy day, we'd sit on the bank like kids at a baseball game hoping for the wind to blow it in our direction so we could snag it. Nope. Finally, in the Fall, we both resigned ourselves to the fact that we would just have to wait it out for the cup to gradually work its way to the edge where we could reach it, but it managed to get hung in the reeds towards the backside of the pond. Great. Every day, we would drive around the pond, looking at the wildlife and taking pictures, and one of us would be obligated to say at some point, "There's that damn cup."
As I mentioned before, the temperatures in January were so severe that the pond eventually froze over. Now, I would never be so stupid as to step out onto the ice, but it was definitely frozen solid. While walking around the pond one Saturday afternoon and playing with the ice(throwing various pieces of debris like rocks and sticks to watch them bounce and slide across the frozen surface), Grancey shouted that she could see the cup! It had managed to float over to the edge, and was actually touching the bank at the very back edge of the pond where we could reach it. Oh, frabjous day! Calloo! Callay!
I climbed down the embankment where the cup was positioned in the water, and casually reached down to grab it. I actually put my hand on the accursed cup! But it wouldn't budge. It was frozen in place! It was stuck half in and half out of the water, with the ice frozen solid all around it. I yanked at it. I grabbed a stick and beat at the ice. I wiggled around and hung my foot over the ice and kicked at it trying to break through. Nothing.
It was the Excalibur of Macon County.
And I was not worthy.
And Grancey laughed hysterically.
We returned to the spot each day, and I pounded the ice with rocks, limbs, my boots, and everything else I could grab to somehow break through and get that damn cup out of the pond. In the end, all it took was waiting a little longer for the temperatures to return to normal. The ice eventually melted on its own, and one glorious day in February, I was able to casually pull the cup out of the water.
It now rests on a crate in the garage, and we will move it to a place of honor somewhere around the pond this Summer in a solemn ceremony. Hey, the cup has earned it.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Go ahead. Become a follower. Write comments. Leave suggestions.
One of the things I miss from my old forums are the back-and-forth participation. I always learned a hell of a lot more from people's comments than from anything else, and I love the chance to comment back at ya. When you read, take a minute and tell me what thoughts you were having. Comment back and forth to each other as well (this sentence will ring with hilarity if nobody ever leaves a comment anywhere, won't it?).
I have many things to write about, including my lengthening hair, my shrinking weight, my growing house, my ridiculous cats, my gorgeous wife, and (of course) my beloved Alabama. But I welcome the chance to write about something YOU'RE interested in reading. One of the greatest exchanges on the old Listverse came about when Dangorironhide asked about racism in the New South, and I feel like all of us learned a great deal from what transpired.
And who knows? I might find a Daily Quote or two worth sharing...
I have many things to write about, including my lengthening hair, my shrinking weight, my growing house, my ridiculous cats, my gorgeous wife, and (of course) my beloved Alabama. But I welcome the chance to write about something YOU'RE interested in reading. One of the greatest exchanges on the old Listverse came about when Dangorironhide asked about racism in the New South, and I feel like all of us learned a great deal from what transpired.
And who knows? I might find a Daily Quote or two worth sharing...
Welcome to Warrrreagl's Reasons to Live in Alabama
*cue Whitesnake*
"Here I go again on my own..."
Welcome to my incredibly self-indulgent presence in the blogosphere. I don't know why anyone would want to read what I write, but I know that I enjoy writing. Although writing is hard work, I love doing it, and I can't deny its soothing properties for me.
I think some history would help. Way, way back "in the day," my wife and I were captured by the Yankees and held prisoner of war in Iowa for three years from 1994-1997. I worked three jobs (Iowa State University, Ames Community Schools, and Cochrane Realty) and my wife worked three jobs (Iowa State University, Ames Research Park, and Murphy Family Farms). We worked all six of those jobs simultaneously, because it was one of the main things we could do to avoid going completely nuts up there. The only contact we had with the outside world was this new thingy called "internet" and we actually PAID for the software from Wal-Mart to sign up for America Online, or AOL. From AOL, we were able to have extended, intelligent conversations with other people about things that truly mattered - SEC football. My wife created the online account with AOL, and she was forced on the spot to think of a screenname with 10 characters that would serve as our permanent account name. She came up with "warrrreagl" which is a corruption of the Auburn Tiger Battle Cry of "War Eagle," and she spelled it with four "r's" because she needed all of them to make up the 10 characters. And warrrreagl was born.
Our next stop along the levels of hell took us to Starkville, Mississippi for 7 years (1997 - 2003). While there, I became a nearly-charter member of an online community called TFP - the Tilted Forum Project. I found TFP through Fark, and I became a member of TFP in its second iteration. The first version was created in 2002 and crashed, and I became a member of the second iteration that crashed in April, 2003. Then, I made sure I signed up for the third iteration, which began life in April, 2003 and has been going sort-of-strong ever since. On TFP, my screenname was warrrreagl, and I loved the shit out of that site for several years. Over time, the site owner jumped the shark, and brought in a veritable Mariel Boatlift of batshit crazy newbies, who quickly proceeded to chase off all of us old-timers who built the site to its classic greatness. During my time on TFP, my wife joined up as Grancey, and we moved to the Promised Land of the great state of Alabama, where we remain to this day. Grancey is still online at TFP, by the way.
When I left TFP, I found a new home called Listverse (originally List Universe), which was a site of daily Top 10 lists that contained a forum as part of the overall structure. Although I hated the comments portion of the Top 10 lists, I loved the forum. It was fresh, new, and reminded me a hell of a lot of the old TFP with its vibrancy and terrific sense of humor. I created a journal of sorts called "Top Reasons to Live in Alabama," which was a take-off of one of the Top 10 lists that might be submitted to the Main Site. Eventually, it was renamed "Sweet Home Alabama." Over time, the most colossal wet blanket I've ever encountered anywhere on the internet named "Randall" slimed his way onto the Listverse Forum and began looking for reasons to become outraged. He found a good one in me. Since I am Southern, he got lathered up about an image of the Confederate flag that I posted in a thread I created about flags. Sadly, the site owner at Listverse was too impotent to take a stand one way or the other as Randall's character assasinations mounted and fractured the cherished family at Listverse, and the nastiness festered openly. So I left.
I tried a return to TFP, because I needed a place to talk to people and write, but you can't go home again. So I left TFP again (Grancey is still there, though).
After six months of wandering in the wilderness, I am here. Many of the things I wrote about on TFP and Listverse will probably be repeated here, but I don't care. The Reasons to Live in Alabama never get old to me. They are precious each time around.
And I am home to stay. Welcome.
"Here I go again on my own..."
Welcome to my incredibly self-indulgent presence in the blogosphere. I don't know why anyone would want to read what I write, but I know that I enjoy writing. Although writing is hard work, I love doing it, and I can't deny its soothing properties for me.
I think some history would help. Way, way back "in the day," my wife and I were captured by the Yankees and held prisoner of war in Iowa for three years from 1994-1997. I worked three jobs (Iowa State University, Ames Community Schools, and Cochrane Realty) and my wife worked three jobs (Iowa State University, Ames Research Park, and Murphy Family Farms). We worked all six of those jobs simultaneously, because it was one of the main things we could do to avoid going completely nuts up there. The only contact we had with the outside world was this new thingy called "internet" and we actually PAID for the software from Wal-Mart to sign up for America Online, or AOL. From AOL, we were able to have extended, intelligent conversations with other people about things that truly mattered - SEC football. My wife created the online account with AOL, and she was forced on the spot to think of a screenname with 10 characters that would serve as our permanent account name. She came up with "warrrreagl" which is a corruption of the Auburn Tiger Battle Cry of "War Eagle," and she spelled it with four "r's" because she needed all of them to make up the 10 characters. And warrrreagl was born.
Our next stop along the levels of hell took us to Starkville, Mississippi for 7 years (1997 - 2003). While there, I became a nearly-charter member of an online community called TFP - the Tilted Forum Project. I found TFP through Fark, and I became a member of TFP in its second iteration. The first version was created in 2002 and crashed, and I became a member of the second iteration that crashed in April, 2003. Then, I made sure I signed up for the third iteration, which began life in April, 2003 and has been going sort-of-strong ever since. On TFP, my screenname was warrrreagl, and I loved the shit out of that site for several years. Over time, the site owner jumped the shark, and brought in a veritable Mariel Boatlift of batshit crazy newbies, who quickly proceeded to chase off all of us old-timers who built the site to its classic greatness. During my time on TFP, my wife joined up as Grancey, and we moved to the Promised Land of the great state of Alabama, where we remain to this day. Grancey is still online at TFP, by the way.
When I left TFP, I found a new home called Listverse (originally List Universe), which was a site of daily Top 10 lists that contained a forum as part of the overall structure. Although I hated the comments portion of the Top 10 lists, I loved the forum. It was fresh, new, and reminded me a hell of a lot of the old TFP with its vibrancy and terrific sense of humor. I created a journal of sorts called "Top Reasons to Live in Alabama," which was a take-off of one of the Top 10 lists that might be submitted to the Main Site. Eventually, it was renamed "Sweet Home Alabama." Over time, the most colossal wet blanket I've ever encountered anywhere on the internet named "Randall" slimed his way onto the Listverse Forum and began looking for reasons to become outraged. He found a good one in me. Since I am Southern, he got lathered up about an image of the Confederate flag that I posted in a thread I created about flags. Sadly, the site owner at Listverse was too impotent to take a stand one way or the other as Randall's character assasinations mounted and fractured the cherished family at Listverse, and the nastiness festered openly. So I left.
I tried a return to TFP, because I needed a place to talk to people and write, but you can't go home again. So I left TFP again (Grancey is still there, though).
After six months of wandering in the wilderness, I am here. Many of the things I wrote about on TFP and Listverse will probably be repeated here, but I don't care. The Reasons to Live in Alabama never get old to me. They are precious each time around.
And I am home to stay. Welcome.
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