Resolution for 2008-- Sports??

With one more day remaining in 2007, I’ve joined the debate around New Years Resolutions. Traditionally, I’m not big on making New Years resolutions. My thought has always been that if I identify something in my life that should be modified (diet, exercise, or swearing in public places) then I should alter that behavior at that moment in which I’ve acknowledged it as something that should be fixed, not wait until I purchase a new calendar. So historically, my resolutions have started and failed at many points in time across the years.

Since I haven’t made any resolutions recently, the discussion around New Years Resolutions caused me to examine my life to see if there is something where I have become deficient and should start anew. My list produced the regular cast of characters: eat better, exercise, get up earlier to be productive, blah, blah, blah. Since I’ve met me, I know these are tasks that I will deal with when spring rolls around; once warmth returns and the sun shows up for a few more waking hours. Right now, I’m pretty happy to maintain my current physical condition and continue to focus on the obscene growth of my facial hair. However, one new item on my list intrigued me and has caused serious consideration…..Sports.

Would it be possible for me to give up all Sports for one year?

Let me give you a little background. I have a single minded side to my personality, which borders on mild compulsion. I try not to let too many new things enter my life because if one of them takes hold, it becomes a point of focus for an extended period of time (reference the Poker Phase of 2005). In 1988, I made a New Years Resolution that I wouldn’t drink Soda (or any carbonated beverage) for an entire year. I don’t remember what started this idea, but I wanted to see if I could do it. For a Junior High kid, pop is a major food group, so this was a major sacrifice. I spent the entire year explaining why I wouldn’t drink pop and fighting off the prodding of friends to have a drink. I made it the entire year and on January 1, 1989, I sat inside an Arby’s and had my first drink of Mountain Dew and thought my lips were being melted.

Is this year long abstention possible? I love sports. Football, Basketball, Spring Training Baseball. The Duke Blue Devils are an extension of my family. The Dayton Flyers are finally going to be in the top 25. I listen to sports talk radio during the day and recap with ESPN during the evening. I’m in 3 fantasy football leagues, a fantasy NBA league and even did Fantasy NASCAR over the summer. When my son is ready for bed at night, he holds up both arms and says “hoops, hoops” indicating it’s time to snuggle. How could I possibly give this source of joy in my life up for a year?

The impetus behind this idea would be the productivity I might pick up in my life. Do you remember the Seinfeld episode where George gives up sex (having it, thinking about it, etc) and his mind cleared and he was able to understand the great workings of the world? What if I could gain this degree of clarity with the cleaning of sports?

I estimate that I spend ~50+hours doing something that involves sports (not including playing basketball which I classify as exercise). What could I accomplish if I put these 2500 hours towards some other interest? I have 38 hours to think about it. Could the family remove sports for the next year and not feel as though we’ve lost a family member? Will I be ok with the absence of a Super Bowl Party or a March Madness Bracket. If I’m going to do a resolution at the beginning of the year it has to be big, but am I ready to make the commitment?

January 1 Update-- Giving up sports for 1 year isn't going to happen. If this were an action that wasn't so engrained in our families day to day life, I undertake this experiment to see if there is a Castanza factor in life. Either way, I resolve to remove a portion of sports from my life in an effort to expand my scope of interest. Less talk radio in favor of NPR, reduce the fantasy sports to write non-sense on this site, and further prune the sports teams I follow on a religious basis.

Hitting Rock Bottom

We are finally here. Welcome to the bottom of the bell curve known as the Winter Solstice. If it's true that things have to get worse before they get better, then today is the apex of brooding and general grumpiness for anyone who is solar powered. The sun will be out for about 45 minutes today as it slowly hoovers over the Tropic of Capricorn.

The optimist that is buried deeply inside of me is screaming "Things start to get better tomorrow". However, the voice is very faint since he is being crushed by a very large man in a red suit. If you've been able to make it through the holiday swirl to this point, consider it a success and start counting the extra minute of sunshine that will start tomorrow. And a special reminder to anyone on the South Pole, you've got 23 hours of sunlight today....don't screw it up.

Father Winter Solstices -- A fellow member of the nice beard club

State of Shame

I watched a news story this weekend about the city of Toledo’s new billboard ads featuring dead beat dads. The goal is to post their pictures and outstanding amount due on billboards around the city in the hopes that they will pay their debt instead of the public embarrassment. This made me wonder, “When did our judicial system transition away from enforcement with punitive damages into a realm of public embarrassment”?

As an isolated case, the story would just amuse me, but this is becoming a trend in Ohio. As I started to think about this shift in punishment philosophy, more examples came to mind. There are pizza parlors around the state that are placing deadbeat dads picture’s on pizza boxes. When you’re driving around town you’ll notice drivers with the yellow DUI Party Plates. It also use to be common practice to publish hookers and clients names and addresses in the Cincinnati Enquire upon arrest. Did I miss some foreshadowing when the Dayton Band picked the name Hawthorne Heights because they saw that we are living in the present day State where our symbolic Scarlet Letter is dotted with a high stepping tuba player?

Is there some correlation to the effectiveness of public humiliation as a prohibiting factor to committing a crime? Today’s billboards are serving as the current day stockades. Is there a belief that deadbeat dads so concerned with their image that public embarrassment will force them to change their ways? (From the pictures they showed on TV, public image is not something they hold with high regard.) In an age of Jerry Springer and YouTube, exposing someone’s flaws is no longer a deterrent…. it’s an avenue to a small degree of celebrity.

Our court system needs to leverage their power in society to correct the misdeeds of its citizens. Garnish the wages of those that don’t support their families (and if they don’t work, how are they buying pizza)? If someone can’t drive in an acceptable state of mind, force them to surrender their driver’s license and lower insurance premium until they decide not to put others in harms way. I long for a practical link between crime and punishment.

If Party Plates continue to be used as deterrent to drinking and driving can’t they at least make them florescent so they show up better at night?

Snowed In

Ok, we were not technically snowed in, but with no place to go, why mess up the illusion? Since our kids have some farmer gene inside them that requires them to get up well before sunrise, the day started early and most activities were completed by 11 am. With a large crock of chili simmering on the counter top and the hopes of a mid-day nap, I became the Asshole of the subdivision. I take full responsibility for breaking the seal on this laid back Saturday by breaking two of the winter etiquette laws for winter-- I let the boy play in the snow and I shoveled my driveway.

I will blame it on the boy, but I really wanted to get outside and see the snow for myself. Shoveling was a good grown-up justification for being outside in 4 layers of clothes, but there is a practical side to clearing a driveway before it gets too overloaded. As I was clearing the driveway, I could imagine the conversations taking place in the surrounding houses. “Daddy, that boys allowed to play, why can’t I go outside?” “Dear, get your lazy ass off the couch and go shovel our drive way”. I take full responsibility for screwing up their mornings and breaking the Saturday seal.

December Thought Nuggets

• The day will quickly come where we will all curse Guitar Hero. Today, it’s a novelty game for kids to play in their own homes, simulating guitar cords of past songs. My main concern isn’t that these simulated actions will translate into popular music since lip syncing is common place and the progression of band also faking their instruments can’t be far off. I’m fearful of the day when Karaoke is replaced in public bars and restaurants by Guitar Hero, where drunken middle age men and women proudly take the stage and try to embody Slash’s playing of Sweet Child O’ Mine.
  


• I don’t understand adults who tear a stick of gum in half. How can ½ of a stick of gum be satisfying? Are times so tough that you need to ration gum?


• It baffles me that I like Coldplay. Chris Martian’s suicide inducing music use to make me long for an anything else to be on the radio. Now, I find myself singing along and contemplating downloading there CDs into my MP3 player. The concerning part is that this transformation isn’t an isolated incident. The same thing is starting to happen with U2 songs. What’s happening to me? Is this a sign of aging or is my inner England coming out?



• The need for a Federal line item veto is a no-brainer. The Executive Branch has to be the final sanity check and gate keeper for financial responsibility.
  
  
• Is Santa really a word jumble for Satan? Could this be the best practical joke every played?



• Is there anyone cooler than Jay-Z right now? He’s creating great music, running multiple business lines, and having dinner with President Clinton.



• Whose idea was it to exile black lights? For Christmas, I would like for black lights return as the interior design must have. Nothing makes a room pop like black light art of a Tiger or Bob Marley framed in a cloud of smoke.
  
• Can I get a new special skill? I feel a little cheated that my special quality is that I’m the world’s fastest bleeder. I have veins that would make a heroin addict envious and can have blood drained in record time (which is good for blood banks, but not so great at the scene of an accident). This skill has to rank right after being a good scrabble player or someone that knows the names of all the leaves.



• Why isn’t there more mention of the fact that there is a Presidential Candidate named Rudolf around the holiday season?



• Is anyone really watching reruns? I was once a devoted fan of Cheers reruns every night after dinner, but in a day of DVR, who chooses to watch a rerun when you can stockpile new programming to be viewed at on your schedule? DVR is no longer a cool add-on to your cable service; it is now a quality of life essential for any TV viewer. (This doesn’t apply to the occasional 90210 episode on the SOAP channel. Not that I would watch that, but I would understand from a nostalgic perspective).



• Hey Elmo, Shut it!! Why is the speaker on my kids Holiday Singing Elmo set to a level that makes my ears bleed? Christmas Songs sung by Elmo are torture enough, but at 157 decibels, this is just plain merciless.
  
  
• Show me a man in shorts when it’s snowing and I’ll show you an asshole.

Holiday Fashion

The season of Holiday Parties is in full swing, so it’s time review the official scoring for anyone wishing to play this year's edition of “Is your Christmas Tree blocking your mirror?”

This year's categories:

The Metallic Shirts- 1 Point- Just because it’s the holidays, doesn’t mean you should feel free to dress like a disco ball. It doesn’t matter if it’s red, green or some awful combination. If I’m required to make polite small talk with you at the party, I shouldn’t be subjected to a house of mirrors reflection of myself when I break eye contact.
Sleeveless tops or anything with straps—2 Points- It’s winter people, that means it's cold outside. This rule applies to anyone that uses their heater in the car on the way to or from the event. I don’t care if you work out and use a tanning bed all year around, tis the season for full length clothing. A bonus point will be awarded if there are visible tattoos exposed from the outfit at the holiday party. This display is as classic as seeing a bride walking down the isle with a dolphin peeking at you from her shoulder blade. Ink is great, but it doesn’t need to be displayed all the time.

Christmas Hawaiian Shirt- 2 Points- Unless you are actually in Hawaii, it’s unacceptable to have a shirt with Santa playing poker, fixing a car, doing wood work or laying on a beach. On second thought, no matter where you are, no shirts depicting Santa during his down time.

Festive Hats- 3 points—Unless kids are present, adults are not permitted to dress up and look ridiculous. This includes Elf hats, reindeer antler, and even Santa Hats (which are only permitted if carrying a large bag of presents). Is the work environment so repressive that the holiday party is the only avenue for self expression?
Men’s tie with a Christmas Scene- 3 Points— Nothing screams “I’m trying to be festive in my own repressed way” as guy in a suit with bright red tie portraying Santa flying across the night sky or a snow man ice skating on a frozen pond. Fellows, take it back a notch and wear a red or green tie, we will all get it.
The Holiday Sweater- 4 points—The crown jewel the holiday wardrobe, a sweater that depicts season’s greetings with a graphical display of yarn and string. Much like the holiday tie, where a simple red or green sweater would not do, a special purchase was made to show an exceptional enthusiasm for the holidays. However, sometimes a sweater alone is not enough. Oh no, we have extra credit. 1 additional point for anyone that has a matching turtle neck shirt that further accents the outfit with embroidered mistletoe or snowflakes, 1 additional point for anyone that has a battery pack in the back of their sweater so that it can blink and shine, and 2 additional points for anyone that has the triple crown with a blinking holiday sweater with matching turtleneck.

I was at a party last night and was talked out of having my picture taken with someone that had accomplished the hat trick. It’s going to take a little while for me to not feel like I missed an opportunity that should have been captured.

2007 Turkey Day Hall of Fame

In the spirit of Thanksgiving and the remembrance of those people that have shaped who we are today, I proudly announce the first inductee into the Turkey Day Hall of Fame—Dr. Bill Cosby. This year I honor a man that has enriched life in the areas of fashion, food, and family dynamics.

Cosby's Life Lessons:

1. Fashion Icon- Cosby is the inspiration for 85% of my fashion sensibility. I wear either some form of a college t-shirt/sweatshirt, or if it’s cold enough, a sweater. I’m bit more reserved in the sweater styles than the master, but I hold firmly to the sound doctrine of style mixed with comfort. Cosby started wearing collegiate gear on his show as sign of his dedication to education. Following in that same mindset, I display the schools that I feel some degree of affiliation.

2. Submarine Sandwiches are the perfect reward food- I believe the submarine sandwich has been marginalized in American society due to its distribution in fast food restaurants and roadside carts. When a wager is made with a meal as the prize, a steak or seafood dinner is typically the redeemed prize. Cosby showed that that when rewarded with a vacation at home or the opportunity to pick your own meal, the submarine sandwich should always be selected. Unlike a steak or seafood dish which must be cooked perfectly for maximum enjoyment, a submarine sandwich is a work of art that can be customized to each individual. The addition of toppings will tailor the experience to an individual’s preference, sandwich to sandwich. There are only so many ways you can cook a steak. The true secret to happiness is founded in customization and the availability of diverse condiments.

3. Mortimer Ichabod Marker—This marker is the coolest writing devise, ever. Can you imagine the level of envy if you pulled this out of your bag during a meeting or even at a stop to sign a check? This is a must have for everyone’s Christmas list.

4. Work close to home- There is nothing that compares to a short commute to work. Heathcliff Huxstable understood this and was always able to slip down the secret, unseen hallway opposite the stairs and end up in his small office in the base of the building. He wound never have a coat on upon his return, so you had to assume that it was connected to the building. Occasionally there would be a late night call that required him to go to the hospital to deliver a baby, but for the most part, he saw his pregnant patients in his office. No commute, no traffic, and not even a need for a table with stirrups.

5. Silly is a good avenue for teaching life lessons- The Cosby Show portrayed a family environment where serious issues were addressed, but the humor of life and love for one another was never lost. The show was a great example that an action doesn’t define a person and the two shouldn’t be lost inside of one another.

6. Frozen Pudding Pops- Damn it if he wasn’t right, there really is always room for Pudding. The king of all pudding was the frozen strawberry pudding pops that were a staple in at my grandma’s in the summer. I don’t know why these delicious treats disappeared, but if anyone knows of a supplier, I have room.

Here’s to you Dr. Cosby-- thank you for showing us the way to a better tomorrow.

Respect The Bird

My favorite holiday is quickly approaching and I’m happy to report that this year has produced a minimal amount of egregious acts disrespecting the bird. Being more mature and too tired to be angry, I’ve come to the realization that commerce centers (ex. The Malls and Wal-mart) will continue to by-pass this time of self reflection in the interest of selling more mainstream holiday goods-- like a 20 foot inflatable Mickey Mouse dressed as Santa, descending an illuminated chimney. However, I chose to pause and reflect during this holiday in which 43 million turkeys are raised for a great feast.

This year I’ve resolved not to let the masses get me down and deflect my attention from the Thanksgiving season. I encourage everyone to keep their focus on giving thanks for the gifts in their life and look forward to the 3500 calorie meal that is in front of us. Thanksgiving is the most perfect of holidays. With the exception of those people hosting the big dinner, everyone else gets to sleep in late, dress casually for the party, watch two football games and eat a meal that requires a nap. No advance preparation, no silly pastel hats, no hidden objects that need to be found or they will rot, everything is in doors and you get paid from work. No holiday even comes close.

For those of you that are a little more civic minded and want to get involved this holiday season, the White House will continue it’s tradition of pardoning two birds from slaughter this week. In the spirit of the democratic society we market ourselves to be, everyone can vote here for for Don't Kill Me 2007. The candidates are:

** Wing & Prayer
** May & Flower
** Gobbler & Rafter
** Wish & Bone
** Truman & Sixty
** Jake & Tom

Yes, two birds are selected in case one dies before it can fulfill it's duty. Don’t laugh. Turkeys are very susceptible to death beyond just the traditional beheading. Turkeys can die of heart attacks from a sudden or shockingly loud noise and can also drown if they look up during the rain. They might not be the brightest of birds, but they sure are tasty with a little stuffing and gravy.

The White Board will be open for those wishing to give thanks and honor the bird. Stay strong everyone. I moved into a new subdivision at the end of last year, so this is the first go around of the holiday home decorations. I was filled with a great deal of anxiety about the Christmas decoration battles between the neighbors starting the day after Halloween (in a sugar induced frenzy of colors and yard display of the baby Jesus being attacked by wandering snowmen). I had a serious talk with my wife, outlining our respective goals surrounding holiday decorations and any expectations on her part that my skinny ass would be on a ladder stringing twinkling lights to our gutters. PRELUDE TO THE BIRD is upon us. Resist the urge to use this weekend to break out the tree and tinsel, shop early for gifts or even hum those Christmas Carols that are creeping into your skull. There is plenty of time around the corner for Christmas cheer—It’s Bird Time.

Check it out

My "How Stupid Are You" essay will be featured on Indie Bloggers.

New stuff coming from me this week, I promise.

Cool Sleep Disorders

I was reading Time Magazine yesterday and came across an article referencing a Travel Lodge Press Release. The press release detailed the increase in nude sleepwalkers in the last year, totaling 400. The report stated that Travel Lodge sleep walkers typically ask for a late check out, the newspaper or directions to the bathroom. This increase in disrobed guests has prompted Travel Lodge to require towels in the hotel lobby to “preserve a nude sleepwalker's dignity”. The investigation into this rise in bare butt guests showed that the top 3 reasons for sleep walking are Stress, Alcohol and Cheese. That’s right…..CHEESE. Apparently a diet high in cheese prompts semi-conscious steaking in England. The badgers must get an eyefull in Wisconsin.

This story got me to thinking--There are so many cool sounding sleep disordered that I think would be beneficial to suffer from, if you could get past the debilitating sleep deprivation. Take insomnia as an example. How cool would it be if you could utilize the extra ¼ of a day that you wouldn’t need to sleep? There is a reoccurring debate in some circles of male interaction posing the non-sense question “What super power would you like to have”. To date, I’ve never had a good answer to this question. As Dane Cook pointed out, everyone wants to fly, so the pressure is on to come up with something original and worthwhile. From now on I can answer with confidence; I want non-debilitating insomnia.

The condition of sleep walking is also called Somnambulism, defined as “engaging in activities that are normally associated with wakefulness (such as eating or dressing), which may include walking, without the conscious knowledge of the subject”. On average, 10% of the sleep walking incidents end in the person harming themselves, most of the time resulting in a bruise or a cut. I suffer from a mild form of somnambulism, but I don’t get any of the cool benefits. I tend to wander around the bedroom, dig through the sheets looking for one of my boys, or try to keep the light on the ceiling from falling. This typically annoys my wife, but occasionally it provides a dinner theater amusement value. Why can’t I parlay this disorder into cleaning dishes, doing the laundry or any of the other tedious tasks that consume my day? To date I haven’t traveled outside of my room naked, but I’ve never stayed in a Travel Lodge.

Marriage Account

Last week I received word that a young couple we know was getting divorced after 12 months of marriage. The immediate emotional reaction was one of sadness, a fairly common reaction to the news that a set of young newlyweds are calling it quits. My second reaction stuck with me for some time. I began to think about the silent question that is never addressed and I think is a valid discussion point when new marriages fall apart—Do I have any avenue of recourse to recover my wedding gift from this failed marriage?

With the current divorce rate hovering above 50%, it’s a virtual coin flip that any new union is going to make it through the first couple of years. Yet, we as the family and friends are endorsing this relationship forever and underwriting the material foundation, we are left without any rights or protection against a quick dissolution of this union. During the ceremony, the witnesses are asked to pledge their support of the new couple as the couple pledges their love to each other. Should there also be a pledge to the tables full of gifts that are being exchanged. As with all public events, a marriage is a sacred union (Is it a coincidence that scared and sacred are so similar? Another topic for another day) that is ripe for wagering, so why isn’t the wedding present included in the pool of possibilities?

Wedding Etiquette states that “you have up to one year to send a gift”. The above mentioned marriage barely made it out of the “good manners zone” for receiving a gift. Where is the etiquette surrounding gifts if the marriage is not successful?

My Proposed Amendment to Wedding Etiquette— All wedding gifts become fully vested and solely owned by the Bride and Groom five years after their wedding date. Up to the point of full vesting, the Bride and Groom will have full rights and privileges for use of the goods, but will participate in the following progressive ownership schedule: 1 year 10%, 2 years 25%, 3 years, 45%, 4 years 70%, 5 years 100%. If the marriage is dissolved, a refund of the unvested shares shall be returned to the gift barriers (or equally split if sent by a couple that is now divorced).

The entire approach to wedding gifts in today’s society is outdated. During the early part of American culture, a man and woman would leave their parents and start a new life together. The wedding gifts served as a basis for that new life (usually because they were young and didn’t have anything). If we compare this to today’s culture, we find first time couples marrying at the average age of 26 (up 6 years since the 1970’s). It’s safe to assume at 26, both parties have lived on their own for a period of time and have basic living materials. In fact, the consolidation of their respective shit is one of the first big fights a couple must get through. “We only have storage for a few 100 things, so it’s either your collection of black shoes and boots or my old cassette tapes and Jim McMahon posters.” In today’s consumer saturated culture, the best gift really is cash; which can be spent on the honeymoon or used to pay down their collective debt.

In reality, the avalanche of wedding gifts is overwhelming to a new couple. The process of registering for gifts is the closest thing to a shopping spree that most of us will ever know. Newlyweds are swept up in the process and start pointing the selection laser gun at anything that looks cool, in a practical or abstract sense. For instance, I’m the owner of a champagne bucket. I don’t think we’ve ever used it to chill a beverage, nor do I see a need for this in the future—since we have a refrigerator and it’s a pain in the ass to load up all the ice, then remain stationary for an extended period while it melts. I’m sure we registered for this bucket with visions of romantic evenings on the back terrace or lying in bed, sipping something bubbly, but the truth is that it sits in the basement with our bocce ball set, several fondue sets, and some cushions for a set of chairs we will never buy. **Note to anyone getting married, I’m the guy that really did register for toilet paper and paper towels. I was bored with the endless process of registering and became separated from my wife. As I wandered the aisles, I turned a corner and an eye level display put everything into perspective. The paper towels were calling to me and I zapped a few with the gun. To this day, I can be certain of one thing, this is the one item that we received from our wedding showers that I can definitely say we used and were very thankful to have. Keep this strategy in mind when you are out in the field with the red line gun.

This brings us back to the recovery of the wedding presents. My other proposal is a marriage escrow account. In lieu of an actual gift, a promissory note is presented to the couple for their wedding. The face value of the note is $50 towards an item on their registry, which can be redeemed at the end of 1 year. Additionally, the couple can wait to redeem this note and cash it in at the 3, 5, 7, or 10 year of marriage. The note will increase in value for each subsequent year up to the aluminum anniversary. If the couple divorces prior to the note being redeemed, it is either donated to a designated charity or returned to the original owners. This solution will remove some of the wasteful consumption of the newlyweds, while providing an annuity of household gifts that will be available when they will actually be utilized. Nothing says congratulations on 7 years of marriage like a new bread maker off your registry from Uncle Tim and Aunt Mary.

In reality, I’m not really sure what caused the break up of this new marriage. It might have been a clash in living styles, perhaps a fundamental disagreement of whether they would find out the sex of their newborn baby before arrival, or maybe one of them just turned out to be an asshole. Whatever the reason, as the witnesses to this union, we should take our oath to support and nurture the new couple very seriously. Each marriage will go through their respective growing pains, but we can make this a little easier by reducing the material clutter in their new lives. We are a goal oriented society that responds well to incentives. If the delayed acceptance of wedding gifts serves as a motivating factor, we should explore all possibilities to help make the union work. And if anyone knows of a marriage on the rocks that could be motivated by a fondue set, please send them my way, I’m happy to do my part.

OPEN LETTER TO MEN WITH SEMEN BUT NO BALLS

Here is a perfect issue to roll out the ol’ whiteboard. I’m ready to officially declare an epidemic in the matter of “We are waiting to find out the sex of the baby until delivery” being the official party response, even though the man portion of the “WE” is dying to know NOW. What caused today’s future fathers to forfeit their role in the decision making process due to their lack of current possession of the child?


I will start with the concession of some points, so they don’t become a distraction in the discussion. I will concede that:
* The mother carries the baby 24/7 and has to deal with all the morning sickness, kicks in the ribs, hiccups, etc.
* The mother is going to be the feeding station for the first few months.
* There is a certain bonding process that is taking place between mother and child as a result of the harvesting and sheltering of said baby.

These reasons alone are not justification for the mother having the overarching say in the decision to know the sex of the baby. I understand the prevalent argument that “We want it to be a surprise”. This argument is a cliché and doesn’t apply here. Regardless of when the sex is unveiled, ultrasound vs. delivery, it’s going to be a surprise. Even if the man has super sperm, he can’t control the sex of the baby. Therefore, now or later, you get the same surprise.

I will not concede to the point that the mother is going to be the primary caregiver and therefore gets additional share of the parental votes. Dirty diapers, kids with gas, midnight screams and spit up down the front of a sleeper are agnostic events, not tailored to a mother or a father. You just have to be present to participate, and both should be present (for those presents).

I contend that there are several ramifications brought on by this exclusion of the father’s wishes. The father’s in utero bonding takes place on a distant program via the mom, but the identification of sex allows the father to add a degree of specificity to the relationship. If it’s a girl, he can begin to dream and plan for those father daughter dates, the trip to American Girl in Chicago where he will hemorrhage cash, and whatever else you do with a girl. If it’s a boy, he can think of all the father son lessons like shaving, how to throw a ball, and how to ask for help at Home Depot. This tangible piece of information establishes the first step in the approach for fathering. On a more practical and tactical side, the identification of the sex allows for the proper decorating, wardrobe selection, and purchase of season tickets (if applicable).

Men, I know it is a delicate, and often dangerous, proposition to negotiate with a pregnant woman. It is more complex when you add logic into an area where emotions are running rampant. But it’s in your best interest for you to take a stand. If for no other reason, than for your buddies to remind you “If you have a boy, you worry about one penis; if you have a girl, you worry about every penis”.

The whiteboard is open. I’m ready for all those who agree or disagree to enlightened me or share success stories of those using this to reestablish their position.

Forwards or Backwards

It sucks that kids don't grasp the concept of the fall time change. I can remember back to a time when I was young and would try to motivate myself into using this extra hour in a constructive manner. Since I was already accustomed use to getting up at the time that is now an hour earlier, I could go and work out, make some progress in the backlog of books that I have, or finish that silly essay that I intended to publish on Monday. What usually happened would be me laying in bed, thinking about how cold the nights had gotten and convincing myself that sleep was the best thing for my body. In college it was common practice to persuade the bar to stay open for another hour.

On this cold morning, I knew that sleep would be the best thing and I had no illusions of addressing the other deficiencies in my life. However, the little one had a different idea and I spent my extra hour grocery shopping before the chickens could even lay their first eggs.

I hope that you were able to use this hour more wisely. There is still a hope that I can make up for this hour with an earlier bed time and a little more sleep. Next year I'll think about working out.

How Stupid Are You?

I contend there is an unconscious evaluation of other people’s level of intelligence based on our perception of their actions. This evaluation is rooted in our internal need for a greater understanding of our surroundings and the people with whom we interact. Intelligence is the common metric that we use for understanding actions. The more successful or understandable the action is, the higher the correlation to their intelligence. A woman picks the quickest moving line at the grocery checkout, she is smart. Conversely, the more bizarre or unsuccessful the action is, the lower we rank their intelligence on the spectrum of dullard to genius. A man puts his shoes on the wrong feet, he’s an idiot.

I challenge the validity of this surface level assessment and assert that the intelligence of a person is not reflected by the outcome of their actions.

I use as my hypothesis a question “HOW STUPID DO YOU HAVE TO BE TO GET LOCKED INSIDE A BATHROOM STALL?” At face value, I believe we can all agree to the answer would fall somewhere between- this guy is lucky to get socks on before putting on his shoes and the person who always responds to the statement “It’s Raining” with the question “Outside?” on the spectrum of intelligence.

This would be the first question that would come to my mind if I were to walk into a bathroom, only to find a man sliding underneath the stall door on his back. (**I've ommited several Republican jokes. Feel free to think of your favorite and then REFOCUS) So, you walk into the bathroom and find a man wedged half way underneath of a locked stall.

Quickly, let me address the question of etiquette. Would you acknowledge them as they are freeing themselves from his one seat cell or do you adhere to basic bathroom rules and focus your attention on the reason you are there? At a minimum, I think you should say hello since there will obviously be eye contact, as they are looking panic ridden at you. I will agree that offering a hand to assist them is outside the realm of what is expected in polite society and should be avoided in adherence to public heath standards.

On to our central question. While you’re going about your business, listening to sounds of a man dislodging himself from underneath the door, you will begin to judge this soul as he quickly escapes the bathroom with what little dignity he has left. I ask everyone to be honest with yourselves at this moment and think of your own response. My first thought would be “You have to be a complete moron to get locked in a bathroom stall”.

Now we will examine our central question from the perspective of the other party. When the need arises to use a public bathroom it is not the most pleasant of daily events, for the majority of people it is something that we are required to do on a daily basis since we venture away from our homes. It’s such a common event that most of us don’t realize the frequency because it’s not something we keep in our daily memories. With any basic action, there are general assumptions that we make about the consistency and commonality of the events. When we get a drink at a water fountain, we expect a cool stream of water to appear at an acceptable level, when we get out of bed in the morning, we expect our legs to stand, and when we lock a door, we expect it to unlock.

In this situation, let’s call him “W”, has relied on his past experience to say that a locked door will unlock. However, at this moment, that is not the case. W is an even temperated college graduate, with solid grasp of the world around him. W’s first thought is that he didn’t use the lock the right way and they try to open the door again. However, the door is still stuck. Now a small wave of panic washes over W. “How am I going to get out?”, W thinks. He hurriedly tries to unlock the door a third and fourth time, but still no luck. It is now that true intelligence kicks in with the analysis of his options.

First, W assesses the situation. “I’m stuck in a semi clean public restroom in a stall made of a medium to semi firm material. There is a small opening around the bottom and the top of the stall. I’m sure that I’m in the restroom alone and the location of the restroom leads me to believe that it is not a heavily utilized facility. Man, this sucks”.

W then identifies and weighs his options:

• I can use brute force and break force the door open. Pro- I’m out fairly quickly and can probably get away without anyone knowing I damaged the door. Con- I’m going to damage the door and possible harm myself while kicking it open (it would be my luck)


• I can use my cell phone to call someone for help. Pros- I’m out. Con- Someone is now aware of the situation and I hear about this for a long, long, long time.


• I can climb over the top. Pro- I’m not on the floor. Con- It’s pretty high, I might not fit, I could fall and I’m not sure this structure is sturdy enough to hold me.


• I can slide under- Pro- Easiest to perform. Con- I have to slide on the floor and I might get stuck.

This brings us back to the time that we walked into the bathroom with someone sliding underneath the stall door.

I contend that intelligence is relative to the perspective of the person. As with our friend W, they were a victim of a poor choice of stalls and poor timing of someone walking into that particular bathroom, however; they used all their intellectual ability to select the best remedy with the lowest risk of damage and harm to their ego and body. The next interesting question will come from the facility cleaning crew that has to figure out why someone would lock a stall from the inside?

Rules of Trick or Treat

Tomorrow is Halloween and many of you will have trick or treaters visiting your door. Our neighborhood had our beggers night tonight, so I thought I would pass along the rules for the holiday that don't seem to be followed.

• No candy for kids dressed up as “Ben”. Any kids that show up at the door without a costume should be mocked and sent on their way with nothing. There is the risk that they will do substantial damage to your house and cars in the near future, but a precedent must be established--- A lack of creativity is a shameful and will not be rewarded. There is an overall obligation to society that each and every one of us must accept and further promote. It takes a village to raise proper ghosts, goblins, and sexy nurses.

• You will be judged based on the candy you distribute. Candy is ranked in a four tier structure:
  Tier 1- Premium Candy (ex. Twix, Kit Cat, 3 Musketeers, Snickers, Skittles, M&Ms, Air Heads, Laffey Taffey)
  Tier 2- Old People Candy ( ex. Mounds Bar, Baby Ruth, Butterfingers, Almond Joy)
  Tier 3- Better than nothing (Mini Toostie Rolls, Caramels, Bubble Gum (that goes stale in less than 50 chews), Jolly Ranchers)
  Tier 4- Cheap Ass Candy (Whoppers, All bulk purchase wrapped candies, anything banana flavored, etc)

There is a bonus catagory for "A little Strange". This is the candy that is passed out that the parents can enjoy that you don't normally see during the course of the year. (Ex. Black Jack chewing gum, Lemon Heads, etc)

• Ears on a headband doesn’t constitute a costume- If an adult are going to dress up, they have to do more than a thin headband with a set of horns or cat ears. At a bare minimum, spice it up with a little tail or a little face paint. There is no obligation to dress up as a grown up, so if your going to do it, don’t half ass the effort.

• No frowning at parents that drink while handing out candy—We can judge costumes, stupid decorations in the yards, and the overall quality of candy being handed out, but we must never, ever, judge our neighbors for drinking on this evening. I encourage everyone to have a beverage while handing out candy to the little tikes. While your kids are being charged up with high fructose corn syrup and refined sugars, the adults should enjoy a cool beverage of hops and barley. It makes the evening flow much easier. In fact, Halloween is the official kick off to the drinking season. This has nothing to do with the change in weather, but in the start of holiday cluster. Thanksgiving is right around the corner, followed by company parties, the gauntlet of Christmas parties, multiple family gatherings and finally New Years Eve were everyone pledges to lose some pounds and drink less.

It is permissible to frown at parents who stock the wagon that they are pulling their kids with beer. Drinking is a stationary event and the kids should not come home smelling like a bar stool.

• Recycle your pumpkins- Give back to the ground that gave you the decoration that you hacked away with a knife, hallowed out with a spoon and then displayed as decoration as it decomposed on your front step. The trash men don’t need to be weighted down next week with Jack o lantern carcasses.

• Holiday Sweaters or Vests are never allowed!!!!—Under no circumstance should a holiday sweater be worn for Halloween or any other holiday. No exceptions. I tried to think of someway to make an exception, but there isn't one known to man.
  

Best of luck out there. And as my son says, "Boo".

Friend of Foe????

I'm not really sure.

The Waiting Room to Hell

With Halloween next week, I was thinking back to the days when I was a kid. The allure of a haunted house created anticipation for the arrival of the event and left excitement for days after. Now that I’m older and I know that the experience is not real, it lost its luster. So I started thinking. What type of attraction would be could create the same degree of fear for adults?

THE WAITING ROOM TO HELL!!!!

Who wouldn’t skip a silly haunted house or corn maze if you could go to this attraction? I have no interest in managing a facility of this type, but have laid out the basic characteristics for any entrepreneur out there who wishes to advance the Halloween experience.

Must have items:
* The smell of burnt hair is in the air (similar to the smell the first time you turn your heater on for the year)
* Hot and humid room temperature (95-98 degrees)
* All men must wear a suit and tie
* Phil Collins is playing in the background.
* The soda machine will only have Cream Soda and Hawaiian Punch
* The only available magazines are a Redbook, Family Circle, and the National Review.
* The guest should be provided with something to give them a bad taste in their mouth and they are only permitted to have Butterscotch candies in their pocket
* All the wicker chairs are filled with circus clowns, people refer to themselves in the 3rd person, and anyone taking pride in ND’s 1-7 record (Did you really think GOD wouldn’t notice? His boy has season tickets)

* The overhead lights are flickering, in that pulsing way they do before they die.
* You really have to use the bathroom, but Pat Robertson has is in there and has no sign of coming out.
* There is a Huge Flat screen TV showing a re-run of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Ryan Seacrest is hosting.

This would defiantly scare the shit out of me.

Need for a Licence to Parent?

The maker of the bumbo seat has stopped selling it's product until it can produce a warning stating :

"WARNING - Prevent Falls; Never use on any elevated surface. Never use on a raised surface. Never use as a car seat or bath seat. Designed for floor level use only....”

The reason for this new warning is because parents are putting there infants on tables and ledges and the kids are falling to the floor. PEOPLE-- These kids can barely keep there head up and have no control to sit up right. Let's keep them off high places.

Nothing like a news story to make Brittany look better (I meant as a parent, we all know she is still packing way too much into those shorts)

Can't fool me

I long for a day that I can turn on the radio and not flash back to 1994, when I was walking down the street at Miami University, hoping to see anyone who wasn't wearing a plaid shirt with khaki shorts and not showing up to a party playing Jamiroquai.

Jamiroquai is not officially back, but he is either being channeled by Adam Levine of Maroon 5 or this is the lip synching scandal of the new millennium. I'm waiting for the secret to be slowly reveled, as Adam starts wearing those big floppy hats and using moving floors in his videos.

Reading List

Into the Wild- by Jon Krakauer--- The story of Chris McCandless, who graduated from college, donated his savings account and headed west in his car to live the life and adventure he'd always imagined. Sean Penn just made this book into a movie and I was captured by the story, so I read the book prior to seeing the movie. The book is based on McCandless's journals and postcards from the trip. The book highlights the spirit of living the life you've imagined, not the one that others have imagined for you. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Into_the_Wild




The Road- Cormac McCarthy-- This is possibly the best book that I've ever read (not a light statement). This story shows a very tender relationship between a father and a son. I can't say much more than this is a book that is worth the time to read.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Road

Beware of the Three P's of October-- From the Vault Oct. 2004

Hopefully this email reaches you before you’ve been adversely impacted by the three P’s of October: Pumpkin Terrorist, Prom Dresses and Political Ads. I’ve had to encounter this trinity of anguish face to face in the last two weeks, so if I save one person, my work is done. Let’s start with bushy tailed Pumpkin Menaces. Apparently, the squirrels in my neighborhood are not going to gather and store nuts from the surrounding trees as their source of winter nourishment; instead they are going to fatten their stomachs with pumpkin seeds from our holiday decorations. In the interest of full disclosure, it wasn’t my idea to have pumpkins decorating our front steps, nor would I be saddened if we didn’t decorate for Halloween, but the pumpkins were purchased and violated, so now I’m engaged. Up to this point I’ve respected the work ethic of the squirrel population; the strong values centered around advanced preparation and frugality during the winter months. However, this is a property rights issue. This squirrel is looking for an easy way out. I have no more respect for this squirrel than a squirrel that finds a fellow squirrels stash of nuts and steals them for there own. This is an open warning, if you destroy my pumpkins for seeds, I have the right to stuff you in the hallowed orange shell and shake it until you spin around the side. I don’t want it to come to this, but I am prepared.

The second and third P’s are both seasonal inconveniences that I know will soon go away, but are a current source of major irritation. As some of you know, I tried to have a nice dinner out with friends on Saturday at 7 PM. There is a basic understanding that groups going out on Saturday night will have to wait for a table to become available, but the source of this irritation is the Home Coming daters. Two hours to get a table in a restaurant that usually takes no more than 45 minutes is reason enough for this publication. High school kids dressed up like they are Jr. Bridesmaids and job candidates, in what appears to be a prom dress (my wife has pointed out that there is difference between a prom dress and a home coming dress, but to my untrained eye, they all look alike. If someone has to have shoes dyed to match the dress, it’s a prom dress. If the girl is wearing a tiara, it’s a prom dress. And what’s with girls wearing tiara as part of their outfit. There should be only one Queen for the night, and they get crowned at the dance). The group noticed the phenomena that high school girls no longer look like high school girls. Is 16 years old the new 22? And when did high school guys develop the ability to grow decent facial hair? This problem can be reduced to two main points:

1. By definition, these high school kids are “celebrating” the return of the alumni that have walked the halls before them, yet I didn’t receive a single dance invitation from either of the high schools that I attended. This tradition has really become a dress rehearsal for Prom. It’s a dry run to work out the kinks before the big date. Hair- Check, Nails- Check, Shoe’s you’ll only wear once-Check, Fancy Dinner- Check, Flower- Check (this is a metric for the girl to measure her date. If he has not purchased a wrist corsage (if you can spell this without looking it up, you get the gold star) then the pin will go into the fluffy dress—minus points), semi-fancy dinner—check, Is this person Prom Approved—to be determined??.

2. High schools are not considering the impact on the scarcity of community resources that this dry run presents. There are only X number of tables at these establishments and their being occupied by couples comprised of girls that are going to order a salad and the guy will order a burger. Kids, take it to Friendly’s, where you normally are on Saturday nights or at least remind me before I leave the house. Why not spread this event over a 3 month period designated by school mascot (Lions, Tigers, Bears and any other wild animal in Sept, all Human Based mascots (Warriors, Knights, Patriots) in Oct, all others mascots get November. Home school kids don’t get asked to prom so please don’t forward questions.

Finally, I have to fault the money grubbing networks as well as the politicians for the bombardment of the political ads. Politicians are happy to pour money into the local media outlets for coverage and the networks oblige. The funniest part of this dance occurs when the networks run a Bush ad right behind a Kerry Ad. Nothing was established in 4.5 hours of debate, so what is a 30 second spot going to convey? This is the torture of living in a swing state. The airwaves and road ways are congested by Bush and Kerry, trying to portray someone who cares about Ohio. I never thought I would long for an ED commercial where two old people are sitting in separate bath tubs overlooking a mountain. Neither candidate has been here for the last 4 years, nor should we expect to see them for another 4. My new favorite staged event happened when Kerry bought a hunting license last weekend so that he can hunt ducks when he’s back next weekend. It must be a forgone conclusion that he’s spending every weekend in Ohio, the hotbed of travel destinations. Why isn’t anyone asking the question “Senator, how many times have you hunted ducks in Ohio before you started pandering to the local population?” If he wants to solidify my vote, he could come over to my house and thinning out the squirrel population. I can get behind a candidate that takes a stand for the sanctity of pumpkins and yard decorations. I propose the following punishment for the 3-P offenders…..Stick them in a hallowed out pumpkin and spin them around as prentice for their sins.

Space Shuttle- From the Vault Aug 2005

As I was driving to work today, the morning news came on the radio. I abhor the news, but the story was about one of the two topics that I care about, The Discovery Shuttle Mission (the other story of interest being the Supreme Court nomination, for those of you scoring at home). I’m fascinated by this shuttle mission for several reasons:
· The space program rebounding after the shuttle tragedy last year.
· This seems like a real life sequel to Apollo 13
· The pilot keeps doing doughnuts with the shuttle and no one is yelling at him.
· The crew is on Meet the Press second guessing Mission Control about the factor of the launch
· I’m waiting to see if Geraldo Rivera does an remote investigation from space.

So the news story this morning detailed NASA’s plan to address the small piece of material on the underside of the shuttle. It is believed that this small piece will create excess heat on the shuttle during re-entry and might cause an explosion. The suggested solution is for an astronaut to perform a space walk and “Give a gentle tug” on the material and if that doesn’t work, “cut it off with a hacksaw”. The question that popped into my head—When did my peer group get a job for NASA. (To be fair, my buddy Tobe did work for NASA for 3 months, but as a machinist, not Mission Control).

Serious times require serious minds. There is a general consensus in society that the two most educated professions are brain surgeons and rocket scientist. Think how frequently the expressions are used in the course of a normal conversation to show simplicity, “Getting a cup of coffee…It’s not brain surgery” or “You don’t need a rocket scientist to figure it out”. If ever there was ever a time for a big solution to be delivered, this is the time when there should be a rocket scientist working on this problem. Shouldn’t NASA have the highest per capita of rocket scientist on the payroll? Why do the proposed solutions make me think that this is a joke from the Blue Collar Comedy Tour? This event is a Jeff Foxworthy joke waiting to happen. And who knew that a hacksaw was on the packing list for the shuttle launch.

Let’s examine these solutions separately (these are the actual proposed solutions, not jokes that I made up).

1. A gentle tug- This suggestion should always send up a warning flag. Whether it’s a suggestion while working on a copier, coming from your high school boyfriend, trying to fix a loose tooth or someone at mission control, this suggestion should not be used. The suggestion of “gentle” means, were not sure how this is going to turn out, or what else might come loose, but let’s see. This instruction was probably followed by, but if the bottom of the shuttle looks like it’s going to open up like a party favor, stop. Did they consider this? How much duct tape did they bring on this trip? My understand was that duct tape was only good up to 85 MPH (again, according to my buddies). I’m pretty sure the shuttle goes faster than this on re-entry, but I’m not a rocket scientist.

2. Hacksaw it off- This is a true male response. Have something hanging, just hacksaw it off. This logic has been used several times in my past. Door doesn’t fit, get the hacksaw, muffler a little to noisy, get the hacksaw, in grown toe nail… you get the picture. What is truly remarkable about his is that the shuttle commander is a WOMAN! This is where the true blame needs to be placed if this takes place. Guys in a garage can get carried away, especially when power tools are involved and there is a smell of WD-40, stale pizza and Old Spice in the air. It’s the role of women to keep these great ideas in check. Most stupid activates take place in the absence out women. (Example: while re-siding my buddy’s house, we discovered that the ladder didn’t reach the second story of the house. Did we go and get an extension ladder…Hell no! We backed a pickup truck into the side yard and stuck the ladder in the bed of the truck. Problem solved. We didn’t see the errors of our ways until our wives came by and explained the safety issues of our action.) What I’m getting to is, if this was the 1960’s and you have a ship full of men and a control center full of testosterone, this would be understandable, but I expect a little more from the smarter sex.

This small diatribe is a call to action for anyone who has contacts at NASA, or contact to NASA (or at least Kevin Bacon, he should be able to get the message there) to escalate these concerns. If you can’t speak to an actual rocket scientist, at lest get a hold of their wife.

Acceptable Goatee

Let’s See It

It’s that time of year for the beards of the world to surface and unite. Say NO to a cold winter wind hitting a freshly shaved chin. We’ll see those cheeks next Spring.

Walt Whitman or Uncle Jesse??

Disturbing Acts-- From the Vault

On the cusp of the day when our forefathers said F* You to their oppressive masters, I was deeply disturbed as I was driving to work to serve my master. It was a pleasant morning on the way in. The air was a little brisk due to the wind-chill, but nothing a light sweatshirt couldn’t remedy. As I’m driving my normal route, I see a woman that made me long for semi-rotten piece fruit to be in my topless Jeep that I could throw. Up to this point there have only been two things that has made the urge to throw decomposing fruit from my vehicle swell up in my soul.

The first are people who refuse to use their turn signals when they indeed intend to turn. This utter lack of consideration for others driving deserves a mushy grapefruit on the passenger window or a brown banana on the windshield that splits open upon impact and smears across the drives side as they turn on their windshield wipers with out thinking.

The second are people that listen to Phil Collins with their window down, at a volume level in which I can hear it. These people are begging to be pelted with an ongoing assault of oranges, plums, peaches and any other small fruits that could leave a bruise with a direct hit. This assault would continue until they either roll up their window or change the channel. Let me clarify that I’m not looking to permanently injure my fellow drivers, but I want to leave a lasting impression so that the next time ol’ PC is on the radio they either change the channel or roll up the window—because Sudio Nation will never know where I’ll be.

The newest member to my list of People who are Fruit Worthy is this lady I saw this morning. I passed her as she was out for a jog. Let me start by saying that I think jogging is stupid, but can respect a person’s desire for improved health or a primal connection to the outdoors. However, this lady has taken it a step further and was juggling while she was jogging. Three little bean bags where flying in the air while she was plodding along the sidewalk. Why would someone need to juggle while jogging? This question consumed my thoughts as I drove in and I tried to understand why she wasn’t just asking for fruit to come flying at her?

1. She is a clown in training and this is part of her clown test? I know you have to have a state license from the state when you become a clown (I guess to separate the child molesters from the “real” clowns. But really, can’t a child molester get a fake license and pass themselves off for a pro? How many people have really seen a legit clown license to know a fake from a legit licensed clown?) Regardless, Clowns are scary and deserve to be hit with fruit. Even if she is training to be a clown, the fruit would be a deterrent to her new profession and I’ve helped the world reducing the clown population by one. I should be commended.

2. She’s trying to show off? This act of vanity is disturbing. Much like the freaky ladies on Dr. 90210 that have too much stuff but in their lips and they look like they French kissed a bee. There is a life lesson about humility that could be taught with a small kiwi to the side of the head. I don’t want this need for attention to escalate to the point where this lady is jogging on her hands or twirling plates on long sticks while skipping. Either way, the fruit seems justified.

3. There is some left brain – right brain exercise that she is doing that is unlocking the secrets of her mind and she will make a revolutionary discovery. This is a noble pursuit, but with here attention on jogging and juggling, she is not watching for cars that are entering or exiting the busy road on their morning commute. If on of these drivers’ hits her and she dies, they will have to live with the agony of this accident, even if she ran out in front of them. Being hit with fruit is a mercy act, which will hurt much less than a Dodge Durango.

I’m open to other reasons that could take her off my list, but I’ve tapped all my mental resources to see a valid fruit free point of view. Is there a reason this lady shouldn’t be added to the list and pelted with fruit?


BTW-- Have a happy 4th of July and remember to teach the children of the world the true 4th of July. YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


OCTOBER UPDATE—Since I originally send this out, WhiteBoard Member Jenny found out that this is an actual hobby called Joggling. It’s available on Wiki for more information. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joggling

There was a great dialog around this conversation with Jenny about this issue. I’ve included the highlights.

Jenny: Another theory: She's entered a contest to see who can juggle the longest and trying to break a world record and at the same time realized she needed to go for her daily run, so she thought 'what the heck, I'll just run and jog at the same time'...

Another theory: this is only weird to Mark, coming from the mind of a man. A woman might look at her and think 'Wow, what an awesome lady, she's so great at multi-tasking'...I wish I could literally juggle all the things I have going on and still get time to exercise! Right on lady, run, run, run!!!

Another theory: She's practicing her talent for the 4th of July 5 K in Centerville tomorrow and wants to get on TV by being the weirdo who is juggling and running - what exactly was she juggling in her hands? If she gets onto TV and enough recognition she's going to start her own youtube channel + set a goal to coordinate a huge 'jog and juggle across America' team who will juggle their way through the sweaty streets of the heartland.

Hummmmm....

Mark: If this becomes a national phenomena, I’m going to need a lot more fruit.

Jenny: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joggling

Mark: Jogglers?? Everyone is on the Wiki. Is there a page for people that can play the trumpet with their butts?

Jenny: I don't know about trumpets, but this guy could 'play' the flute!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Le_Pétomane

Mark: Sweet. Jenny is the one that can represent me in court if my mental stability is questioned. My questions on life can be reinforced by the WIKI and Jenny showing someone already made a career of it 100+ years ago.

THIS IS FUNDAMENTALLY WRONG-- From the Vault

In the latest Time Magazine (11.10.05), there is an article detailing the devious actions of two UCLA workers who sold cadavers (or portions of cadavers) to research companies and drug companies instead of compiling with the donor’s wish that their body be used for science. This action is illegal not only for misusing a corpse, but because it is illegal to profit from the remains of a human. Who knows where my issue is?

Why in the hell is it illegal for someone to profit off of their dead body? The article states that “a whole body could go for $1,400, but a harvested heart valve may go for $9,120 and knee cartilage for $14,000.” That’s a lot of money. You pay for the hardware when it goes in, why is it not your property when it comes out? Can you imagine buying a refrigerator and not being able to take it when you move? How is it the right of the government to restrict what I do with my remains? **At this time I will not go onto a rant about the government restricting the sell of my (or anyone else’s) body as a sex trade, yet we can sell our souls inside the confines of a cube filled maze called corporate America.** There is a cost associated with death: A wake, burial, loss of income (either wages or S.S. checks), accumulated medical debit, future medical care if the deceased is the primary caregiver for the remaining, and of course…..estate taxes. In society founded on independence and self-reliance, we restrict an avenue to off set these costs.

I’m not sure I would exercise this idea of selling my remains, but I think I should have the option. If I’m able to decided flame broiled vs. the slow cold rot, as well as donating my body to science, why take the principle of for-profit out of the spectrum. I suspect the counter argument (probably from Mr. Leath) will state that this could lead to untimely deaths as a means to make money, but I argue this is a form of murder in which we already have a law prohibiting this action. Does it devalue human life? I would argue no. Life is for the living (up right and room temperature), this deals with the economics of death. Isn’t a higher respect for life exhibited when a company can use a corpse as a tool for research to prevent death in the future via the purchase of a suitable donor? (I know I’ll get a look). If company X is willing to pay $200K for a cadaver with lung cancer, is that a crime against human nature? Less than 8,000 people donated their bodies for medical research last year. Proportionately, this doesn’t seem like an appropriate ratio to the number of medical students who will become the surgeons of the future. Instead they practice in live operations when the margin for error is much smaller, with greater risk.

For those who would use the slippery slope argument, suggesting that there are costs with child birth and this could open the door for other to sell their kids (property rights). I argue the difference in the cadaver case is choice. The person is choosing their final resting spot, where as a newborn doesn’t have the capacity to make a decision, nor the option. To take it a step further, this precedent will allow people to sell viable body part for financial gain while still alive. Just click on E-bay and bid on that liver you need (since your original version is saturated with bloody mary mix). Ok, this is a little unrealistic, but let’s talks about the kidney. To my knowledge, every one of us as two functional kidneys, yet we only need one to live. Want to drop 5 pounds and make $5,000? Sell that extra kidney. You will still be taxed on your $5000, maybe the IRS could create a system where you could donate an organ for a tax write-off much like your old Dodge Diplomat. The argument can be made that this will circumvent the donation process currently in place and those with financial means will be the only ones that obtain organs for transplants (since they have the means to purchase the organ where as today’s system is ranked on a need basis). Adam Smith would argue that a free market system with organs for sale would increase the supply of viable organs, assuming demand remains constant, price would fall. The medical community could still employ a voluntary process, but a secondary process with an open market could encourage those persons who seek compensation equal to their risk.

Am I the only one that is bothered by this?

Acknowledgement

Some of the Essay Posts that you see in the next week or two might be from the vault of previous discussions. I post them for two reasons.

1. I haven't written anything in the last few weeks, so the site would be blank otherwise.
2. The possibility that new people that are not in the previous circle will read this so I want them to catch up on what's been going on.

If it's not new to you, enjoy your trip down memory lane.

You know what I love????

What do you love you ask. It’s the simple pleasures in life. The changing of the leaves on the trees (bright reds and oranges accenting a deep yellow), the way a hammock sways in the breeze as I’m right in between sleep and awake, the way a yard looks after a fresh cut, and getting my Sports Illustrated on Monday evening. However, yesterday was a very disappointing day. As I return from a grueling day at work, I parked my Jeep in the garage and eagerly approached my mailbox, only to open the little metal door and find…………………nothing. That’s right, no mail. How could this be? The postal service always delivers the mail by 4 PM and my watch says its 5:15 PM. My first thought is, “I hope my letter carrier is not hurt”, quickly followed by, “Where the Hell is my magazine”.

Why didn’t we get any mail yesterday? Freakin’ Christopher Columbus. I ask once again, why does this cat gets a national holiday? I know there are no holidays in October and we need to have a day off for something, but can’t we pick something else. The only acceptable answer to this question is if we truly have Columbus Day in remembrance of Columbus’s journey. Everyone is supposed to go to work on Monday, but they couldn’t find their actual destination so they ended up somewhere as nice as they wish for the day, they then return home and tell everyone they went to work and called it a day. We can leave out the part about spreading a new strain of STDs. This does not constitute a mail stoppage.

Everyone say it with me……HE GOT LOST AND NEVER MADE IT. He was trying to find a faster route to India and hit the Caribbean islands. The Indies used to crank out a lot of product in the 1400s. He knew how big Europe was and the amount of goods they were consuming. Did he think these little islands generated enough goods to sustain Europe’s demand? Was Santa Claus in charge of production? Not only was he a terrible navigator, he possibly was an all around idiot.

Instead of Columbus Day, I suggest a day of peace. Peace from war, Peace from work, Peace from the pressures of life, Good ol’Peace and quiet. That should be our October holiday. A national day of napping. And cleaning. One last clean before the Northerns shut themselves in for the winter. Peace and a Dust free environment. Join with me now. For the educators among us, please expose this fraudulent holiday for what it is.