Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Tuesdays with a freak

I don't think I'm normally one to make fun of another's physical deformities. I have enough deformities of my own. But sometimes, I'm just overwhelmed. Sunday morning was one such occasion.

I was watching The Sports Reporters on ESPN before setting off for church. As I looked up from the newspaper, I saw Mitch Albom on the screen. As you may or may not know, Mitch Albom is the bestselling author of Tuesdays with Morrie and The Five People You'll Meet in Heaven. He's also, in a shocking development, a sports writer. Anywho, when I spied Mr. Albom, I became transfixed. Time stood still as one question and one question ran on a continual loop through my head. What the heck is going on with his ears?

First, they are huge. I don't mean big...or large. Gargantuan would be a good word. The coverage area is approximately the same as the Princess Leia hairdo. Ok, so they're big. Two, and maybe more importantly, they are quite craggy. The space and definition between the helix and the antihelix is moat-like. The picture I've provided does not do them justice. Trust me. I think the picture below, though, does come closest to capturing the essence of Mitch Albom's ears.

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Look Dude, We're all tired

I know in the past I probably violated some social mores when I mention the proceedings in my office's men's room. Like here, here, and of course here. But once again, something so remarkable happened that I feel you must be informed.

Yesterday, as I leave the office for my lunch break I stopped off in the little boy's room to ,you know, go. Well, when one finishes up at the urinal and turns to the sinks or where ever, you are facing the stalls. As anyone is aware, some public restrooms and their stalls are built better than others. Some don't have gaps which allow you to see through. Ours, of course, do. So as I turn I catch a glimpse of a man in the stall nearest the wall. He is seated. He is leaning against the wall. He is asleep. I washed my hands and left to grab bite while wondering what kind of person would want to sleep like there.

I returned from lunch and headed back to the bathroom, probably about an hour and quarter or so later. And what do I see as I turn? Same dude, same stall. Still asleep!

Someone please give me an explanation. And no, he wasn't dead.

Monday, January 16, 2006

How I reacted to Texas winning the National Championship

...not that you care. As you may be aware, I am a somewhat devoted fan of the Texas Longhorns. No, I did not attend the school but because my Alma mater "competes" in Division III I think I have a strong argument that I retain all previous rooting privileges. That being, as long I can remember, I have rooted for two teams: the Dallas Cowboys and the Texas Longhorns. So it is, with overwhelming anticipation, that I approached the Rose Bowl on Jan. 4.

I enjoyed the first half in a fairly calm manner and was more that content with the halftime score. I must admit that when USC scored to make it 38-26 in the fourth quarter I began preparing myself for the possibility that Texas might not win. At that point, I consoled myself that the Longhorns had made a good showing and hadn't been run out of the stadium as some, if not most, predicted. It is in that same calm, grounded demeanor that I watched the rest of the game. Until...until that glorious 4th down stop with 2:09 left. Then the importance of the event I was witnessing via TV came crashing down on me. For I finally began to realize that there was a pretty decent chance that the Longhorns could be national champions. So, when this happened (see picture at right) I kinda started to lose it(losing it really not something I do). After the two-point conversion there were still 19 long seconds left. I was what best could be described as jittery (I usually don't get jittery). Then when Matt Leinart's last incompletion of his college career hit the ground and the clock showed zeros I stood with arms raised in complete exultation and screamed. Something to the effect of,"They won, they won, oh good God, they won." Then I just stood there dazed. I'm sure the people who didn't leave the watching party early (ahem) were saying things to me, but I didn't hear them. I finally lowered my hands after the ceiling fan had whacked them for the fifth time. I gave my two male compadres a hug. I wasn't sure whether I was gonna cry (I don't cry). I was numb. I then stayed up till 1 am watching highlights.

BTW, if anyone wants to watch the last 11 minutes of the game again I have it recorded (in HD no less). I've already re-watched it three times. It still makes me exceedingly happy. Now, take a moment and bow to the great one.

Friday, January 13, 2006

The Book of Daniel

I am fully prepared to admit that I've become completely out of touch. I will admit that I am clueless and self-righteous and moralistic and a fundamentalist and whatever else you might find fitting. Just tell me. Tell me I'm the crazy one and I'll accept it.

So Wednesday night I sat down to watch the premiere of this "exciting new series". Yes, it aired on Friday but I didn't get around to it until Wednesday. Let's all take a moment and thank God for Tivo/DVR/PVR. Here's a brief synopsis I copied from the Dallas Morning News:
The Book of Daniel details the adventures of the Rev. Daniel Webster and his troubled family. His trials include: an alcoholic wife, drug-dealing daughter, oversexed high school son, gay college-age son, bisexual sister-in-law, adulterous father and a mother with Alzheimer's who's prone to making embarrassing remarks. A pot-smoking housekeeper in a posh residence oversees it all.

Amazingly enough, none of that stuff--including the appearance of Jesus as Daniel's happy-go-lucky joke popping buddy-- fazed me. I am fully prepared to believe that since ministers are, in fact, human they might be surrounded or related to those who make incredibly bad choices. We're all fallible, you know. Now this particular episode was 2 hours long. Yeah, I know. I had fought through a variety of possibly offensive scenarios and an hour and a half when Daniel shares some of his Vicodin stash with the Bishop before he begins a marriage counseling session with a fictional couple.

Once again, I've made it this far, and to some what I will describe next will pale in comparison to the deviantness to which I've already alluded, but nonetheless. Rev. Daniel begins the session with some questions about monetary issues, if they discussed kids, whatever. Then he asks, "So how's your sex life? Is everything ok?" I was dumbfounded. Neither member of the couple showed surprise or shock, but the prospective groom answers, "No," while the prospective bride answers, "Yes." The the groom adds, "She can't have sex without being stoned." Once again no shock or embarrassment registers on any of the faces; and no, we're not talking about the biblical stoned. The bride then asks, "Are we weird? Is there something wrong with us?" To which Daniel quickly assures them they are not. Oddly enough, in a parallel to the show, Jesus happened to be sitting next to me on the couch watching the show. As this exchange occurred Jesus and I looked at each other with eyebrows raised, turned back to the TV and simultaneously said, "What the...?" I then stopped the show and deleted it. I also deleted any future recordings.

So, to paraphrase the fictional prospective bride, am I weird? Is there something wrong with me? Does every marriage counseling session with a minister of the Gospel include questions about the couple's sex-life with the presumption that there already is one? Is a couple's admission to premarital sex and recreation drug use met with such nonplussed replies? Tell me! I don't know. I have an idea, though. And that's why I stopped watching the show. And it's not necessarily because I was offended or anything like that. It's just because the whole scene struck me as so completely unbelievable. I was reminded once again that they don't get it. They don't get faith, especially in God. They just don't get any of it.

So America, it's now up to you. Tell me, how crazy/unreasonable/disconnected/irrelevant am I.

Oh, and another thing. If you're gonna call it a dramedy, it's supposed to be funny.

Thursday, January 12, 2006

I do not apply myself

There, I said it. Next time you click over here hoping to read something new and insightful and ridiculously funny and instead find the same headline from 6 weeks ago just know that it's not because I couldn't think of anything or because I'm too busy or because I don't love you enough. It's because I don't apply myself.

In a time of brief reflection during the new year this was my "big revelation." I think if you were to ask my friends and family if this were true, they would just fold their arms and slowly nod. Whether it be my career (heh, it's funny to even mention it), meeting those of the female persuasion, my relationship to the Almighty, concert attendance...whatever else you might dream up. I need to apply myself.

Now, I must admit I'm not completely sure how to pull that off so here's what I'll do. This year I resolve (even though I DO NOT make resolutions) to not give myself escape routes (I am a master at the escape). Ok, I probably still do that, but I really try not to and when I do, I hate myself even more than normal.

As far as this little site goes, hopefully I'm back.

2006 - No Escapes!