Parody?

Exxon Mobile posted second quarter profits of almost 12 billion dollars while General Motors losses widened to over 15 billion dollars. That’s a big swing…

Best 2 out of 3

There’s going to be a Rock, Scissors, Paper contest held in Portland tonight. I’m sure it will have a novelty appeal for an hour or so. Not to mention you can win Miller Lite Gear! Holy crap, bags and shirts with the Miller Lite logo pasted on it. My mom would be so proud.

Talent?

Why do people like America’s Got Talent? I’ve tried to watch this show on several occasions to no avail. I find most of the acts boring, the judges listless, and the story lines trite. I was inspired by two 30-second promo spots and was immediately let down by their lame episode counterparts. I just can’t quite figure out why it holds the top ratings week in and week out. If American Idol is a glorified Karaoke contest, then America’s Got Talent is nothing more than a puffed up summer camp talent show. Both of which, are very forgettable.

Breaking News?

I know this is an every other week rant, but what the hell is up with Yahoo News? I have to go to the Yahoo page in order to view my fantasy sports teams. While I’m there, I scan the headlines. Granted, I don’t expect much, which is why being let down is that much more depressing. Headline for today…Again! Simple, unexpected ways to help you save gas.

What do they do, link to the same article every day and just give it a different title? Yes, we get it. Drive slower, less erratically, and properly inflate your tires. Or simply drive less. Done. I didn’t need an article to tell me that. And why? Because I read the same article last month, last week, and yesterday. I was also lucky enough to hear it on the radio last month, last week, and yesterday. And did I mention I watched it on the local news last month, last week, and yesterday!

The funniest thing is that they still report it to us like it’s actually news. Here’s the actual news. If you don’t already know how to increase your gas mileage, find a mirror and look into it. What you’re seeing is a complete moron. Now raise your right hand and try to slap the stupid out of you. It probably won’t work, so try again just for the hell of it.

From a NY Times article titled:
10 Things to scratch from your worry list.
By JOHN TIERNEY

6. Toxic plastic bottles. For years panels of experts repeatedly approved the use of bisphenol-a, or BPA, which is used in polycarbonate bottles and many other plastic products. Yes, it could be harmful if given in huge doses to rodents, but so can the natural chemicals in countless foods we eat every day. Dose makes the poison.

But this year, after a campaign by a few researchers and activists, one federal panel expressed some concern about BPA in baby bottles. Panic ensued. Even though there was zero evidence of harm to humans, Wal-Mart pulled BPA-containing products from its shelves, and politicians began talking about BPA bans. Some experts fear product recalls that could make this the most expensive health scare in history.

Nalgene has already announced that it will take BPA out of its wonderfully sturdy water bottles. Given the publicity, the company probably had no choice. But my old blue-capped Nalgene bottle, the one with BPA that survived glaciers, jungles and deserts, is still sitting right next to me, filled with drinking water. If they ever try recalling it, they’ll have to pry it from my cold dead fingers.

Brooke Hogan gives thinking another shot.

Brooke Hogan lashed out at the press for writing inaccurate information about her. In her blog, she calls them ‘Jerks.’ The press responded immediately saying that she was an ‘ugly, stupid face.’ I don't think she should be reacting simply on emotions like Hillary Clinton. It might dissuade female voters from voting for a woman...Ohhh, that's a jab at her intelligence.

Chris Rock is…Not the Father

After litigations and DNA testing Chris Rock was found to ‘not be the father’ of Kali Bowyer’s child even though she still insists that they had an affair and a subsequent baby. Unfortunately for her diluted mind, DNA doesn’t lie. Unless of course, Rock is a Chimera. That would change everything. It's also highly unlikely. I saw it on a CSI episode once.

Bowyer is trying to sell a book about the ordeal, which is probably why she is pushing so hard for the media attention. I would like to take a moment right now to urge a boycott of her book. Ahh, that was a good moment. I didn't realize that I was such an activist. It’s hard enough for some mothers to get restitution from lame dads without gold diggers muddying the waters of public opinion.

You lied, Bowyer. You wanted a hand out and some attention and it didn’t work. I’m not even saying that Rock didn’t sleep with you. But I am saying that, at the very least, he’s not the father, so let it go.

Winehouse Hospitalized! No Way!

Amy Winehouse was hospitalized again last night for “a reaction to medication.” Does she even sing anymore? Oh wait, she did release that racist YouTube jingle a little while ago. Drunken rants are music too, right?

This is just another tragic example of good talent wasted on a worthless person. The worse part is how many musicians are out there that would kill for an opportunity to record an album and have it marketed on an international level. Unfortunately Winehouse would rather use this opportunity to slowly kill herself. It’s only a figure of speech Amy. Take the needle out of your arm and back away from the booze.

The Worst, Ever!

Having recently seen “The Happening” at my local McMenamen’s Movie Theater and Pub, I’ve come to the conclusion that (A) movie theaters inside of bars are the coolest thing ever. Not only can you drink there, but it’s encouraged. And let’s not forget a movie is only $3; and (B) M. Night Shyamalan is the worst director of the last decade.

What makes it worse is that he had two lucky goes at movie making with “The Sixth Sense” and “Unbreakable” but everything else he’s touched since, has sucked. Shyamalong-a-dingdong hasn’t directed a movie worth watching for years, and “The Happening” is no different.

The actors gave shallow performances; there’s more depth in my daughter’s kiddy pool. And the script took an interesting idea and turned it into a SciFi made for TV crap-fest. At one point, I actually recited two minutes of dialogue before the words came out of the actor’s mouths; that’s how predictable the script was. And Mark Wahlberg hasn’t given a performance that amateurish since “The Big Hit.” Oddly enough, Wahlberg is quoted saying that the choices Shyamalan was having him make went against an actor’s natural tendencies. Well done, M. Night. Way to prove that a bad director can overshadow capable actors.

I vow to never again subject myself to another one of Shyamalong-a-dingdong’s movies; if you can actually call them that. I’m actually pissed that with the money he wasted making “Lady in the Water” and this recent yawner, some other movie didn’t get funded. If I ever see M. Night in person I’m going to kick him in the balls and say “It doesn’t feel so good, does it?” because that’s how I felt last night.

By the way. "The Dark Knight" was pretty kick-ass; great performance my Ledger, awesome action, and a fun ride. The script was a little plot heavy, Batman's voice is still too grizzled, but I enjoyed it despite the hype-trap.

Stampede of Olympic Proportions

Thousands of fans swarmed the Olympic Stadium in Beijing in an effort to purchase the last remaining batch of tickets on Friday. Metal barricades were mangled and people pushed to the ground as the out-of-control fans rushed the ticket sales window.

The crowd was subdued when they finally realized they were in line to purchase tickets to the upcoming Olympics. Most had thought they were waiting in line to buy tickets to the Miley Cyrus concert tour. In a related story, Hannah Montana is really popular. Damn your popularity Miley!

Good For You, Girls!

A new study shows that girls are finally as smart as boys when it comes to math. In a related story, homosexuals have overtaken women in fashion sensibility and lesbians continue to dominate softball but have ambitions to take over baseball in the near future. Men have become suitable housewives, and no matter how hard they try, midgets are yet to break into the NBA. I’d say it’s been a pretty crazy week in biased research.

But seriously, the study about math is true. At least we think so. As it turns out, the researchers were a bunch of women, and it’s hard to tell if the quantitative data was added correctly. The numbers are currently being rechecked for accuracy by a bunch of male chimps at the San Diego Zoo.

Warning, Sting Ahead

I’m not anti-cyclists by any means. In fact, I wish that I lived closer to work, so I could save a little gas money as well. What I am against is all of the bitching the cyclists have been doing of late. Yes, it sucks that bikers are getting hit by vehicles on a monthly basis, but whose fault is it? I’ve had my fair share of near misses as cyclists blow through stop signs and red lights.

It’s a lot easier to observe the road on a bike, which is why they feel comfortable breaking traffic laws. I do the same thing when I ride, but that doesn’t make it right. The fact of the matter is that by law, bikes are considered vehicles and have to obey all of the traffic laws.

Recently, Portland police conducted a sting operation that targeted bikers who committed violations. Fifty-three cyclists were pulled over Wednesday morning alone. Most were just given a warning instead of a $200+ ticket. And as much as it pissed off a lot of people, hopefully it raised a little bit of awareness as well.

Thank You Weatherman

I find it slightly hilarious that weathermen feel the need to stand in the eye of a storm to report the status of approaching hurricanes. I was reminded about this oddity this morning as I watched a national weatherman stand in whipping winds and pelting rain to let us know that whipping winds and pelting rain are targeting Texas. Interestingly enough, he could have just told me about the weather, and I would have gotten the idea. If he really wanted to impress me, he could have shown me some footage from a traffic camera. But nope, weather men feel the need to prove their worth to world. They have to measure up to investigative journalists who go to great lengths to get the story. They need to compare to the reporters imbedded with troops in Iraq, or that one host who was stabbed on the show “Cheaters.”

Did you see the footage of Al Roker getting blown over by hurricane winds a couple of years ago? Yes, even Mr. Roker feels the pressure. Regardless of how hard they try, they are still weathermen. They explain too much, are right too little, and typically aren’t that funny. But fight on Mr. Weatherman. Prove your worth to me and the world. Dodge windblown debris. Trudge through feet of water, and show me that rain.

Will it ever be the same? Probably.

At the Movies with Ebert and Roeper will be handing over its reigns to new blood come next year. Despite the fact that Ebert hasn’t been part of the show for some time now, it is still a bit of nostalgic blow to movie enthusiasts. I have to admit that since Roeper has been discussing the movies with a myriad of special guests, it is hard to get a consistent handle of who you should believe. But I still enjoy his “I’m better than you” banter he has with his guests each week. Unfortunately their replacement, Lyons and Mankiewicz, doesn’t have the same ring to it. Mankiewicz, really? It doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.

The worst part is that I never realized they were hiring. I would have totally submitted my resume. Oh well.

Furry Fiends

There’s a conspiracy against me. All the animals in the world have banned together to make sure I never get a good night’s sleep. Our new dog is great, but a nocturnal S.O.B. Every morning at 5 a.m. there’s a smack down between him and one of the cats.

Hssssss, Smack, Bark! And I’m awake.

Before the new dog, it was just the cats. One of them would find a way to wake me from my restless slumber before the sun came up. Whether it be from jumping on and off the bed repeatedly, vigorously cleaning themselves next to my ears, or meowing at the door, I never quiet figured out how to silence them for a full night.

And I don’t even want to get into the rooster that briefly found refuge next door.

Jumping in head first:

I forgot what it was like to have work to do at work. It’s kind of exciting. My first day on the new job and I have already been given a plate full of projects to catch up on and move forward with. I guess there will be no dipping my toes into the waters to see how cold they are. Nope, head first is the only way to go.

Accidental Taxidermy

I received a letter from my mom shortly after moving back to Portland, Ore. from New York City. The letter was typical of her, meaning it wasn’t really a letter, but more of a note.

“Thinking of you. Hope all is well. Love Mom,” was scribbled at the bottom of piece of notebook paper.

Enclosed in the envelope was a claw taken from a grizzly bear. It wasn’t purchased from a souvenir shop dangling from a sterling silver chain. It wasn’t glued to a plaque with a witty saying inscribed below. It was an actual claw removed from the paw of an actual grizzly bear…and I thought nothing of it.

Coming Up!

Why do we have to sit through two minutes of “coming up after the break” during every segment of a reality TV show? To make matters worse, we have to sit through another two minutes of “what happened before the break” when the show resumes. I know it’s reality TV, which means it’s typically light on story, heavy on filler, but don’t tell me what you’re going to show me right after the commercial. It’s a waste of time. I’m not going to stayed glued to the TV waiting to see if what they just said is going to happen will actually happen. If anything, it makes me want to change the channel even more. If you don’t have enough storyline to fill each segment then hire better writers.

Coming up tomorrow, Lucas will writer another blog. Stay tuned!

Knock, Knock. Who's There?

It’s been quite awhile since someone has made the inaccurate assumption that I still live with mommy and daddy. It’s not that it offends me; I just get a little confused on how I appear to other people. At the ripe old age of 27, I have seen me appearance change a lot since high school. I’m married with a kid and another one on the way. I wear a wedding ring and consistently change the look of my facial hair, but I guess I still look prepubescent to the general public.

Last night I was watching a TV show when my doorbell rang. I didn’t want to answer it but figured that it would be rude to let the poor guy stand in the dark for much longer, so I opened the door. The guy was selling alternative energy for the power company, which I probably would have been interested in until he actually spoke.

“Hi,” he looked around sheepishly, “Are your mom or dad home?”

Those are the words; strike one, two, and three. Enter awkwardness. You see, I don’t really care how young I look. In fact, I take advantage of it more times than not. But I had a long day and was tired, so for this door-to-door salesman, it was the nail in his coffin.

“No, my mom and dad aren’t home because I am the owner of this house. What can I do for you sir.”

My tone wasn’t mean, but my point was heard. He tried to stutter his way through a short sales pitch, but his embracement ruled the conversation. I let him talk for a minute but eventually ushered him along, taking a pamphlet for his constellation prize. I’m sure a 12-year-old can answer the next door he knocks on, and he’ll probably start the conversation with “are you the owner of this house.”

The Bat Man.

I don’t claim to be a nerd, but I am super geeked up about the new Batman. Okay, maybe I am a nerd.

Hooray for me!

I got a new job at another creative firm today. Sweet! Maybe this time I'll actually get paid for my time worked. You mean employees have rights? Holy crap, go figure.

A World of Shame

A 10-year-old Yemen girl reports to CNN that at her young age she has already been married, divorced, and raped. I understand that different cultures have different customs, but 10-years-old! That’s what, someone in fourth or fifth grade. The plain and simple truth is that is sick and wrong. Most 10-year-old girls haven’t even gone through puberty, not that that would make it okay.

Of course, she was raped. Even if she had consented to the sex, or even if her parents consented to it, I would still consider it rape. She’s effing 10-years-old for crying out loud. There is absolutely nothing anyone could ever tell me that would make this sort of thing okay.
What makes it worse is that the guy is in his 30s. I’m only 27-years-old, and I have a hard time talking with girls in their late teens, not hitting on or flirting with, simply talking to. They young and have no clue about the world.

And now the parents of the little girl are mad because they say that the man lied to them. He promised not to touch her until she was 20. Sorry mom and dad, but if you’re going to allow your daughter to get married and leave home at 10-years-old, you have no one to blame but yourself.

Liquid Gold

Imagine that, as soon as the U.S. lifted the ban on off shore oil drilling the cost per barrel decreased for two straight days. The drop of over $11 a barrel will hopefully be the start of more price slashing, but we’ll have to wait and see.

I have questions.

I’m looking for a good literary agent or publisher to have an informational interview with. If anyone out there knows someone that fits this bill, let me know.

I'm on top of the world ma!

Okay, so maybe I'm not on top of the world, but I am climbing the mountain. I'm two chapters into my book, which will be a collection of essays in the same vein as David Sedaris. No, I am not comparing my talent to that of Mr. Sedaris’. But I am saying that I’ll be writing a series of short stories that hopefully will inspire some, cause others to laugh, and at the very least, make you feel a little better about yourself.

Despite failing on many professional levels, I have realized that some good can come from my large collection of shortcomings. Will I ever get published? Probably not. Does it give me something to look forward to? Absolutely, and sometimes that means more than the actual outcome.

Rooster Update!

My neighbor’s rooster is gone. I fear it lost its final cock fight.

Handle Your Pan Somewhere Else

A recent article in the Oregonian stated that the Beaverton police are becoming increasingly strict on panhandlers despite the fact that Beaverton has no law that prohibits the act. Instead, cops are issuing citations for littering, disorderly conduct, and other nuisance violations.

My problem with the homeless community I’ve come into contact with in Portland is that most of them are young, able-bodied individuals. The ones that try to use my restroom at work have to history of mental illness and no physical disadvantages. They simply don’t want to work. Newsflash! Nobody actually wants to work. We do it because we have to.

It angers me even more to find out that these people can’t seem to find the means to get a job, but they are organized enough to get a public defender on their side in order to sue the city. Lawsuits have been filed by panhandlers and settled in 2003 and 2004 for thousands of dollars. I’m glad they have the fortitude to be proactive when it’s convenient for them, rather than when it’s just part of life.

My wife’s grandfather worked as a social worker in Louisville, KY for many years. He recounts when they did a study of their local panhandlers. Instead of simply handing them money for being intrusive, they offered them a wage and a day’s worth of work. Every single one turned it down saying that they would make more money begging for it.

The problem with panhandling is that people continue to donate their change, thus perpetuating the lack of actual change in someone’s life. If those concerned about the wellbeing of the homeless donated to sanctioned charities instead of giving their dollars to beggars, the problem would resolve itself. A stray cat won’t show up on your doorstep every night if you don’t offer it food.

I don’t want to dissuade people from giving. I’m all about charities and helping people in need. But I think that donated dollars can go a lot further to solving the problem when they’re given through the right channels. As cheesy as it sounds, if you give a man a fish, you fee him for a day. If you teach a man to fish, you feed for his life. If the man refuses to fish and doesn’t want to learn, then screw him. Fishing is a part of life.

Have It Your Way

It was Sophia's first time at a McDonald's Playland. We weren't sure if she would be able to enjoy herself, but she jumped right in and didn't want to stop.

Cute, but a pain in the butt...

Puppies are cute, but they are a pain in the butt to train.

The dog pees, I clean, and then Sophia tries to lick the soapy parts. It's a little exhausting.

Steps to being a good writer:

I took two more steps to becoming a better writer today. First, I ordered a couple of books that are supposed to breakdown theory in a clear and concise manner. Second, I bought a 12-pack of beer for when the first step doesn’t work.

Oddly enough, both of these ideas were recommended to me by writers. Hey, I’ll take any excuse I can to start Miller time a little earlier on a Monday afternoon.

Let's Get Creative

I can honestly say that it is nice to be given a menial compliment in order to soften the blow of criticism. I’ll be the first one to admit that the tone of my writing has substance while its technical aptitude falls a little short, but it’s still never fun to have that fact pointed out by an industry veteran.

Luckily, I went into my recent informational interview with the creative director/copywriter of Frank Creative with the sole purpose of gaining knowledge. And while none of his shots delivered a knock out blow, I don’t believe he pulled many punches either. All in all, it was a great learning experience. He shed some light on the different ways I can view my strengths and weaknesses, and handed me a tiny speck of hope encased in despair.

Number one lesson: Don’t listen to other people’s advice; especially when they don’t know what they’re talking about.

Number two lesson: Beg. Beg for work. Beg for experience, and beg for knowledge.

Unfortunately, it’s hard to put yourself into a position of begging and working for free when you have a family you’re trying to help support. Nonetheless, the option is always there. Now, it comes down to priorities and what I can bring myself to sacrifice along the way. That’s a question I can’t answer now. I guess I’ll have to learn that lesson along the way.

If the Today Show and Yahoo had babies... They'd be twins!

I’m sick and tired of Yahoo.com linking to “professional” blogs and trying to pass it off as news. It’s like the Today Show has taken over the net. It is the same stupid story every other hour, every other day. I’m sorry, but if you need someone telling how to dress for the summer twice a week starting in April, you might as well stay home and not go out into the world. And as far as Yahoo is concerned, how many articles do we need to read that describe how to know if a guy is really into you? Furthermore, if you’re a chick, how many articles do you need to read in order to know that the guy you are dating is a loser?

Hint; if he doesn’t open the door, offer to pay, or look you in the eye, he’s a douche bag. And if he doesn’t try to at least kiss you (especially if he doesn’t try to kiss you on the forehead), then he doesn’t like you. It’s not rocket science. In fact, it’s not even science. It’s common sense.

Hire some real journalist or sell your damn website to Microsoft, so we can at least read some “actual” news. P. (effing) S., I don’t need your “Six Sauvé Dating Behaviors to Show You’re Interested.” When did Internet users become so helpless that they don’t even know how to talk to people? Ask someone out, buy them a drink, give them a kiss, tell them that you like them, and then shut the hell up; not that hard!

I know we live in the world of 24-hour news, but if you can’t come up with anything better, let the rest of the world read a book or spend time with their family.

I'm Not Kidding. It's an actual Rooster!

Seriously, it's annoying. Beyond that, I will write more when I don't have to focus on getting a new job. I swear, I'm the small business anti-chirst. I've been laid off twice, had one company sued by Warner Brothers, and the last one kept bouncing pay checks. Those aren't good odds by any standards.

I promise to keep my wit and sarcasm about me. I'll see you on the other side.

A Rooster! Seriously!

I tried desperately to like my neighbors. They’re a nice Mexican couple with a cute kid, but today I officially decided that I’m sick and tired of their antics. I understand it’s polite to help out a friend every once and awhile, but do you really have to have two house loads of furniture cluttering up your back yard. Four beds, dressers, boxes of clothes, and beat up armoires resemble a modern art project of the leaning tower of Pisa. However, I don’t think it will ever make its way to your local MoMa.

I even think I could get past the all of the junk if I didn’t have to listen to the owners of the junk playing loud mariachi music every night and having a good old laugh about who knows what. And nothing says “this is a good neighborhood” more than three beat up vans piled into their driveway (none of which can start on the first, second, or even third try) with two cars making sure that even the nimblest of pedestrians can get utilize the sidewalk.

But I draw the line at the damn rooster. I don’t care where you’re from or what you do, you don’t keep live roosters in your back yard when you live in the city. Isn’t it enough that I have to listen to the music and nightly gatherings? Now I have to hear a rooster crowing all day long. Isn’t there an ordinance against that? I am honestly pissed off. And even more so, I’m pissed off that I’m pissed off. I try to preach tolerance and kindness every day, but I’m pretty sure this is where prejudices start.

In Bruges: 5-Second Review

This dramedy is set in Bruges Belgium where two hitmen are impatiently waiting their next assignment. With a cast of Colin Farrell, Ralph Fiennes, and Brendan Gleeson, Bruges doesn’t miss a beat from beginning to end. It was missed by most audiences on the big screen, but I hope more people take the time to check it out at their local video store.

It's all on you

The family and I are going to Montana for the weekend. I guess that means you'll have to figure out how to get depressed on your own. Fear not, I will return on Monday. However, I plan on coming back revitalized and full of zest. Feelings of joy will rule the day. Damn, I can't wait for Monday. It sounds so exciting.

The Day My Music Died

It’s easy to be melodramatic about life, especially during the nights when Malinda is at work, Sophia is asleep, and I’m left alone with nothing by my thoughts. Problems are bigger, solutions are harder to come by, and hope seems to fade into the black. Mostly, I jot down a paragraph or two about what’s affecting me, followed by a largely failed attempt at sleep. But I still manage to wake up ready to take on the world again. I fight the good fight keep chasing after that dangling carrot.

Tonight, however, was different. As I sat on my living room floor watching a movie (with the mute on), I noticed how lonely my guitar looked. I grabbed it, nestled into the corner and started playing some of my favorite songs I had written over the years. But a funny thing happened. Words escaped me, phrases were lost. I had forgotten.

Music has always been my solace. It allows me an outlet to express my emotions and be in a different place while I play. My songs tell the stories of my life; past relationships, heartbreaks, and true loves. I felt so strongly about these moments, I created a rhythm for their timelines. They were my stories to share, and some, to keep. And today I realized that I have let some important pieces of me get lost in the shuffle, blending in with the clutter of bills, pressures to succeed, and disappointments of bounced paychecks. Lies and ignorance were followed by blind trust, and now I’m starring up from the bottom of a dark hole.

It’s easy to see the problem, hard to accept it, and even harder to start over again when you’re already two steps back. I think my first priority will be finding my music again. Hopefully it’s lost and not dead. Perhaps, if the song remembers when, then I can to. Regardless, I’m ignoring the dangling carrot, but I will continue to fight the good fight.

“Wipeout” is good clean fun

ABC’s summer show “Wipeout” works on many different levels. Okay, well it really only works on one level; watching people fall, tumble, get thrown around, and sometimes punched in the face. The show is an obvious copy of Japan’s “MXC” (Most Extreme Challenge), which can be seen on Spike TV, but lives up to the comedic banter and unexpected face plants of its predecessor.

I have to admit, 10 minutes into the first episode I wasn’t completely sold on this remake of a timeless classic, which is actually a redubbed remake of a Japanese original. Don’t worry, I’ll draw you a picture later. Regardless, the “punching wall” and “big balls” finally won me over. There’s nothing like watching a 50-year-old cougar take one on the chin and nose dive into a pit of mud.

“Talk Soup’s” previous host (back when it was actually called Talk Soup), John Henson, adds witty one-liners, while ESPN’s John Anderson gives the commentary a familiar sport’s tone. Contestant interviewer, Jill Wagner, rounds out the cast and brings a series of uncontrolled laughs and smirks to every cut-away shot.

All in all, the original “MXC” is hard to beat, but “Wipeout” gives it a run for its money. There’s a possibility this summer novelty won’t stick around too long, so enjoy its humor at someone else’s expense while you can.

Movie Quote from "Harvey"

This is probably one of the best lines I’ve heard in a movie for a long time. Not only did it fit the moment on screen, but it resonated with me for awhile afterward. The words just rattled around in my skull, ending up in different orders, rearranging but keeping the same meaning. It is not necessarily a deep quote, but I liked it none the less. Elwood is speaking of the people he meets in bars with his “imaginary” friend Harvey.

“They tell about the big terrible things they've done and the big wonderful things they'll do; their hopes, and their regrets, and their loves, and their hates. All very large, because nobody ever brings anything small into a bar.”

I just love the truthfulness of it.

The “Harvey” in All of Us

1950s “Harvey” starring Jimmy Stewart is the perfect movie to watch when life seems like it’s a little too much to handle. Innocent enough to put a smile on your face and engaging enough to keep it there, this movie struck a chord with me on a day where I lay on the couch exhausted, stressed, and empty.

"In this world, you must be oh so smart or oh so pleasant. Well, for years I was smart. I recommend pleasant. And you may quote me," are the words Stewart’s character shares as he is being admitted into a psychiatric ward with a smile on his face. Although it seems like he is naive to the situation, there’s a truth in his eyes that speak otherwise.

It sounds simple enough. Sometimes it’s easy to say that life just isn’t that simple. It gets hard, it kicks dirt in your face, and it pushes you to the ground. This can be true. Trust me, I’ve done my fare share of washing the grit out of my teeth. But does that mean that life isn’t simple? No.

You always have a choice. Every decision you make, there was an opposite decision that was neglected and ignored. Every day offers you a fork in the road. The beauty of it all is that you can always turn around and go back the other way. The choice is yours. Your decisions don’t have to be easy, but they are always simple. I can smile, or I can frown. I can laugh, or I can pout. I can be difficult, or I can be pleasant.

I may not have wrestled with reality for all of my 27 years, but I think it is time I try harder to win out over it. It doesn’t take a 6-foot-3-inch white rabbit to make that happen. It just means I have to start making the right choice. I don’t always have to be oh so smart. Sometimes pleasant will do just fine.

Too Immature to Graduate?

I got the new Kanye West album (I guess it’s not really considered new anymore) from BMG this week. I didn’t have to pay for the CD because of my club points, which is great because I refuse to give that man any of my actual dollars. It’s too bad really. I like his music, especially the stuff he samples, but he is such an arrogant a-hole that I feel it’s my duty to not support him. One of my co-workers has tried to explain to me that at least his antics are entertaining, and since he is an entertainer, it should be considered okay.

I guess I’m just a little old fashion because I don’t find his antics entertaining. They’re obnoxious, juvenile, and petty, but not entertaining. I see my one-year-old daughter throw the same temper tantrums and she is one.

Regardless, the not-so-new album is pretty good. There are not as many great songs on it as there was on his last release, but there are more decent songs. Unfortunately, I just don’t care whether he stays or goes. I also vow to burn his next CD from someone else, so he doesn’t see a penny from my listening enjoyment; club points or not.

Good Stuff

I’ve changed the settings on my account so anyone can comment on my blogs. I would have done this sooner, but I didn’t realize I could. Yes, I’m admitting my ignorance. I guess a person really can’t be perfect 100% of the time. I’ll settle for a solid 99% though.

Finger Lickin’ Good

You should never bite the hand that feeds you. Of course, if that hand keeps pretending like it is going to feed but ultimately doesn’t, you might as well bite the whole thing off. Hey, you eventually have to eat something!

The Art of Burning Bridges

It’s an age-old adage that it’s not wise for one to burn a bridge he has just crossed over. What if you realize you’ve forgotten your favorite pair of Nikes on the other side? It is very hard to cross a dangling suspension bridge that’s engulfed in flames (I picture a suspension bridge because it seems scarier. Don’t look down). Furthermore, you may have remembered about your Nikes too late, and the rickety old bridge is already burned to the ground. Now what?

That being said, there are those times when you feel so completely crossed by someone, you have no choice but to light the match. So if you’ve reached your limit, there’s no point in just giving your bridge a little smoke damage. It will simply grow bitter, perhaps let you cross it again, but the bridge will eventually allow you to fall. Instead of risking a plunge, you might as well douse it with lighter fluid, soak it with gas, and ignite the damn thing with a blow torch. This way, at least the bridge knows it’s being burned. There’s no misconceptions like, “hey, did he just toss a match at me? Well I don’t see any other bridges around, so I think he just flicked that match at me.” Nope, as that bridge burns to the ground, it will stare you in the eyes as it rages and eventually smolders to nothing, knowing there wasn't a second lighter on the grassy knoll.

Of course, you can always be the bigger bridge and ignore the whole thing. But what’s the fun in that? At least, that is what a little birdie told me… as he lit a match and waved his Nikes good bye.

New York City is...

Life isn't about the destination but the journey. Our journey, however, started with a destination; New York City. Its streets are full of concrete, sweat, and noise. Its boroughs are full of nations, religions, and traditions. But its allure is more than the sum of its parts. New York City is an expectation. The Big Apple is where anyone can have a dream. You can escape there to get noticed. You can retreat there to blend in. It is lights, ambitions, and energy. It is our nations past and our country's future. New York City is a skyline of hope. For us, it was the time in our life when... life happened; good, great, bad, and miserable. It was two years we would never give back and a life we were ready to leave behind. Like so many before us, NYC was our city, and we thank it for our memories.

What's Better?

Coke over Pepsi
Chevy over Ford
CSI: NY over CSI: Miami
Racquetball over Tennis
John Wayne over Clint Eastwood
Sour over Sweet
Fast over Slow
Pizza over Wings
Beer and Wine settle for a tie
The Soup over Best Week Ever
Wii over Playstation 3
Movies over Books
Books over Magazines
Magazines over the Internet

And the beat goes on da da dun dee dun dun.

Starting off on the right foot

Six feet have washed ashore in British Columbia over the last 11 months. Authorities are baffled about the origin of the feet guessing that they could belong to missing fisherman, plane crash victims, or random people that have simply drowned. The last foot, however, appeared to have been intentionally severed from the leg. It was also first left foot to be discovered. Regardless, Canadian authorities don’t expect foul play. Of course, they also still believe in the Easter Bunny.

On Golden Pond

It actually takes place on a lake. F for false advertisement. However, I'm man enough to say that it made me tear up a little. I'm also man enough to say that if you ever repeat that, I will kick your a**. Enough said.

My Departure from Sarcasm

Love is a funny thing. There are a lot of people that feel love, but when you ask them to describe it, the words are hard to find. That’s because you don’t speak of love, you feel it. Words were never meant to trump feelings. Even poets can’t truly describe the exact essence of love. They try. They come close. And they fall short. Like most emotions, love is relative. What it means to me, it may not mean to you. A counter example (or perhaps the perfect example) of a feeling’s relativity is a person’s pain threshold. My brother cut half of his arm off with a chainsaw and walked down a mountain to call the ambulance. Did it hurt? I’m sure it did. But it didn’t hurt him as much as the next guy. Unfortunately for my brother, his love threshold is as high as his pain threshold. Three years into his relationship might have killed me, but he has hope or, at the very least, is blind to the pain.

But what does this say of love? Yes, it’s caring, forgiveness, and generosity; words, words, and more words. Love isn’t words. It is feelings and ideas. It is todays and tomorrows. It is bringing life into the world, and even more so, holding someone’s hand as they leave it. For some, it’s forever. For others, it’s fleeting. As much as I would like to think I know, it’s what I don’t know about love that makes it real. Love isn’t free. It isn’t easy, and it isn’t for everyone; although, everyone deserves it. Why? I don't know.

For me, love is my wife. Every ounce of her being is focused on making the world better, my life better, our life better. I was asked a long time ago about how I knew that I loved her. Again, only words were used to describe an indescribable feeling. My response? I know the sun rises every morning. I know I need every breath I take, and I know I love Malinda. When she goes to work in the morning, I know she will come home in the evening. When I see an older couple on TV, I know that is where we will be one day. I don’t know why, but I know. So to me, love is knowing that the answers are not meant to be known. They’re felt, poorly explained, but always there. But why? I don't know.

Just Do It

Tiger Woods gave a performance today worthy of any sport’s hall-of-fame. Despite it only being the third round of the U.S. Open, what Tiger accomplished at Torrey Pines is what movie scripts aspire to be. Down five shots with six holes left to play he was able to sink a 70-foot eagle putt, a chip-in for birdie, followed by a 30-foot eagle putt on the 18th green to end the day with a one-stroke lead. The sheer skill involved in the comeback was enough to talk about, but most noticeable was the fact that he grimaced in pain after almost every shot and limped to the 18th green. His body was showing obvious signs of wear from his recent knee surgery. But Tiger did what he does day in and day out; play golf and play well.

If he would have given this performance in the final round, it would be forever written in the history books as one of the greatest comebacks in golf’s history. Nevertheless, it’s on par with Laettner’s final second jump shot that propelled Duke into the 1992 NCAA finals. No one remembers the winner of the Championship game, but we still remember the amazing shot that ended Kentucky’s chances at moving on. Even if Tiger doesn’t win tomorrow, people will still talk about today. Those are the moments that make legends. When a single performance can outshine the result, you know you’ve seen something special. This is why people root for Tiger. This is why he is so important to the game of golf.

A Movie Can Remember When

I watched “The Shootist” starring John Wayne today. Wayne plays a crotchety old gunfighter who travels to Carson City to die of cancer. Because his reputation precedes him, he is forced to fend off pestering town folk and revenge seekers alike. I’ve seen it before but being father’s day weekend and all, I felt like watching some movies that reminded me of my family. My dad has probably seen every John Wayne film 10 times over, so by mere default I’ve seen most of them several times. I always enjoyed his films, but never really understood my dad’s passion for them. Regardless, it’s been awhile since I’ve watched the Duke draw his pistol.

My revelation occurred halfway through “The Shootist.” I always recognized the resemblance between the characters John Wayne played and my grandfather, but it wasn’t until today that I realized how powerful of a connection it was. His walk, the way he speaks, and his don’t take shit from nobody attitude echo the sediments of my grandfather to his last breath. I guess it makes sense; my grandpa was also a fan of the Duke.

As I sat there and watched, my mind was flooded with memories, good, bad, and indifferent. The fact of the matter is that the movie just made me feel good. It was like being home without going back home. My dad loves his movies because he loved his dad. We tend to relive our memories regardless of where they are harbored. My grandfather died several years ago, but I can see him not only through my dad, but through the movies they shared.

My grandpa was a crotchety old cowboy, stubborn until the day he died. He may not have been a gunfighter, but he sure as hell was a fighter. I thank my dad for giving me the keys to this past. He made sure we knew where he came from and why that's important. Powder River Let'r Buck! Happy father's day, dad.

The Quarter Life Crisis

The quarter life crisis happens when twenty-somethings realize life isn’t as rosy as they were led to believe. We grew up in an era where our parents told us to follow our dreams, athletes preached that if we worked hard every day, it would pay off, and movie stars touted that if it could happen to them, it could happen to us. So we believed. We studied hard, kept our noses clean, and cherished our dreams. We graduated high school, then college, and stepped wide-eyed and curious into the real world. But the real world looked the other way.

We stand on the threshold of reality armed with our hopes. But reality uses bullets. One by one, we get cut down and left behind. We beat around the bush of indifference trying to find our reasons. But our world is different from our parents. Our president is laughed at, our war is an occupation, and NASA’s budget continually gets cut. We don’t stare at the moon and imagine when. We ignore Mars when we’re already there.

We are the twenty-somethings that weren’t forgotten about but ignored. We are our parent’s sounding board; talked to and inflated so they could go to bed and say that they made a difference, that they inspired us to be better. We are no longer inspired. We are middle class and homeless. We are social security numbers, Nielson ratings, and car salesmen. We have more than our parents because VISA gave it to us. We have less than our parents because MasterCard took it back.

The quarter-life crisis is laughed at by those who created it. They coaxed us up the mountain and pushed us off. Now they wonder why we are licking our wounds at such a young age. But we are not angry, we’re disappointed.

Deadwood Revelations

Isn’t it odd that taking a bath nowadays is thought of as being effeminate when in the 1800s that’s how a lot of rough and tumble cowboys got clean? Taking a piping hot bath with a whiskey and cigar by your side was considered indulgent and looked forward to.

For the sake of boosting my anti-oxidants I’ve replaced whiskey with red wine. And because I’m not partial to smoking, I’ve replace cigars with a rubber ducky (okay, it’s my kids rubber ducky). Regardless, if it were the 1800s, I would be considered one lucky badass cowboy. Yup, that’s right; I’ll take my baths if I want to. And if you cross me, you just might have to answer to the hot end of steel barrel (and no, that is not a sexual reference).

A Dedicated Me

With my good friend Seth’s recent success on the marathon circuit, I’ve decided to do a little training myself; not for a 26-miler, but for the rest of my lifer. That’s right, I’m starting my training now, so when my second baby is born I will be the perfect dad.

I’ve already set my alarm to go off on two-hour intervals at night, so I can reacclimatize myself to interrupted sleep. When I take off my pants, I purposely pee in my own face in order to simulate random infant urination. I’m still a little slow at dodging a steady stream but that’s what training is all about.

I’m focusing my lingo so it mirrors that of a seasoned dad. I’m practicing phrases like “don’t hit your little brother,” and “get me another beer.” I’m also listening to the radio, a CD player, and the TV at the same time so that I can have pinpointed multi-child listening accuracy. Unfortunately, I still can’t bring myself to listen to my wife.

With a little over six months remaining, I’m going to have to keep my training rigorous, but it’s the only way. You perform like you practice, and gosh darnet, I want to perform like a champion. So here’s to me; a dedicated, mildly amusing, father of the year. Okay, I can’t back that up, but I can say that I’m the best father living at my house, currently. And that’s saying something.

A Pair with Some Hair

After a long departure from my manhood, I decided to get it back. No Sex and the City, no wine, no hair gel, today it was all man. When I woke up this morning I new a change had to be made. I’ve grown soft in my city ways. So when my wonderful wife made me pancakes for breakfast, I thanked her, pushed them aside and cooked eggs and sausage patties instead. Oh yes, this was a good start.

I proceeded to go to the gym for workout. After getting my sweat on, I headed back home and took a shower. No soap for me today. The lather from my shampoo will due just fine, thank you. After examining the length of my facial hair, I put my razor away; no need to be smooth to the touch today. Of course, if I decided to shave, I would have done so with a buck knife and no shaving cream.

I made my way to the garage where I built a couple of saw horses from scratch. If you don’t know what a saw horse is or how to build one, then you’re not a man. You might as well quit reading now and surf the net for a luffa. I followed the saw horses by building the last section of fence for my front yard. Oh yeah, that was also from scratch.

I was finally tapping into my long lost testosterone filled past. In order to seal the deal, I sat down in my large recliner with a bottle of beer and turned on the new Rambo movie. That’s right, this afternoon it will be me, Miller, and Rambo remembering what it is like to root for the good guy, blow up the bad guys, and check our feelings at the door. It feels good to be man today.

Stalk Much

Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton held a private meeting in her Washington living room last night, which the press ate up. It’s kind of weird actually. They sat outside her house with cameras fixed on her windows for what seemed like hours. Hell, it could have been hours, just recording away. I remember a time when this was considered stalking. A person can get arrested for this stuff.

The worst part is that my wife had a slow night at work, and was desperate for something to do, so she watched this circus unfold (if you can actually consider what happened unfold worthy). Don’t complain my dear if you choose to feed the 24-hour media machine.

Lame Duck?

So I’ve been informed by my lovely wife that my blog has been boring of late. At first I dismissed her claims but quickly realized that (A) not everyone wants to hear about boring movies from the 30s, and (B) She’s quite nearly the only person that reads my blog, so I had better cater to her needs. It’s kind of pathetic really. I mean, I could just tell her funny stories when I get home, but I so desperately want to feel like I’m contributing to something, I add to the cyberspace clutter instead. Kudos to Me, for being a true narcissist.

Buster Keaton and “The General”

Keaton displays less physical comedy then Charlie Chaplin, but the movie was almost more effective because of the attention paid to the story structure. I definitely enjoyed the film both for its historical value and comedy. However, unless you’re a film buff, I can’t recommend it. Silent films are always a little hard to finish. Three more AFI selections to go!

“Overnight” Not a review but a tongue lashing.

I watched “Overnight” at the request of my good friend Eric, and I have to admit, this documentary made me ask “why.” Why are some people given an opportunity? Why are some people in the right place at the right time? And why do millions of deserving individuals bury their dreams everyday while others spit at the face that’s giving them a handout?

The movie chronicles the instant rise and slow, painful fall of wannabe film maker Troy Duffy. A foul mouthed bartender from Boston is given a deal of lifetime when Harvey Weinstein offers to buy his script, make him a director, and let his band record the soundtrack. In true douche bag fashion Duffy proceeds to burn every bridge in town while stepping on every one’s toes as he’s basically run out of Hollywood. I’ve never wished failure on anyone with the intensity that I wanted this man to crash and burn. It’s unfortunate that he not only drowned his dreams with his nonsensical jabbering, but he stole any potential success from those around him.

Troy Duffy tasted the bitter poison of Karma, and we were lucky enough to have had someone follow his every move. “Overnight” is a true cautionary tale of WHY you shouldn’t try to be bigger than your britches; but most of all, why you shouldn’t be an a**hole.

I don't consider my work "freelance" because I'm not free and my name's not Lance. I guess that means I would consider my work "costlucas."

The Marx Broth’s Duck Soup

With line after forced line of boring puns, this movie baffles me. I was somewhat entertained by “Night at the Opera” but mostly bored. “Duck Soup’s” complete lack of comedic timing and sloppy shtick just left me confused at its appearance on the AFI list. Physical comedy was done at a much higher caliber by Charlie Chaplin, but I really can’t find a single redeeming scene in “Duck Soup.” There’s no cultural relevance or cinematic significance.

I know this review is a little harsh, but that’s an hour and half of my life that I can’t get back. I would like back, even half of it would be nice. But it’s gone. And for that reason, I wouldn’t recommend this movie to anybody. Sorry AFI.

A True Inventor.

This video speaks for itself. Some of the things people are capable of when there’s a need for technology are truly amazing.

Often Overlooked.

My good friend Eric always makes a point of mentioning the climb of gas prices since the Bush administration took office. I don’t support or deny the things are government has done over the last couple of years, but I found this graph interesting. I’ve read about it in a handful of articles, but since no one wants to take the side of Bush, this info is often overlooked. Here’s a very simple graphical representation of when the gas prices started to increase. I’m not pointing the finger at anyone. I’m just saying that it’s not as easy as blaming a single person or incident.

Quit looking at my mangina!

I’m surrendering my manhood today. Since having a baby I don’t get to see that many movies in the theaters. This year we’ve been blessed with the quality of “Iron Man” and the nostalgia of “Indiana Jones 4,” but alas, I have to sit at home and watch their box office numbers climb. However, for my wife’s birthday we’re going to see the highly anticipated (not by me) “Sex and the City.” And of course, by her wishes we are going to see it on opening night.

So there it is. My first big summer movie going experience will revolve around purses, shoes, and arguments over who’s more like Carrie. If you run into my manhood on the street, could you mention that I’m still looking for it?

Clay, you sly dog!

I was going to write about this yesterday, but I was still trying to wrap my head around it. Mr. Clay Aiken is going to be a papa. Who’s your daddy? But for all of those skeptics out there that still think he’s perpetually stuck in the closet, the plot does thicken. Apparently, Clay impregnated his longtime friend and producer, 50-year-old Jaymes Foster, through artificial insemination! Dun, Dun, Dunnnnnn.

First of all it’s ironic that his baby’s mama is named James… I mean Jaymes. Second of all, she’s his very best friend, who he doesn’t have sex with, not even when she wants to get pregnant. Don’t worry Clay, we support you ambiguity. You do your things, with that pale skin and long blond hair of yours. Oh yeah, and that soft and supple tenor voice your supporting.

1927's The Jazz Singer

Like so many on AFIs top 100 list, this movie’s historical significance is the only reason it was selected. It’s the first film to use the vitaphone, which allowed Warner Bros. studio to record singing that was synchronized to the actor’s voice. “The Jazz Singer” is dubbed the first “talkie” but is essentially a silent film. I get its importance of utilizing the vitaphone, but if you’re going to sit through a silent movie, I recommend “Sunrise.” At least it has a storyline that translates some suspense and emotion. Oh well, one more marked off the list.

Half the Tree It Used to Be

An Omaha Nebraska man had to cut his tree in half in order to appease his neighbor. The neighbor was angry because the tree was killing a small section of grass on his property line, so after going to small claims court, the owner of the tree had to trim it. He decided against cutting the tree down entirely because it provided a backstop for his kid’s basketball hoop.

Take that angry neighbor. A small patch of dead grass under a bushy tree looks a lot better than a mangled evergreen bordering your lawn. I guess you should be careful what you wish for. I’m sure this is going to start a wonderful feud. The police dispatcher will have fun dealing with the weekly calls dealing with the “he said, she said.” Hooray for not getting along over minute details. Let’s break out the pink flamingos and broken down cars and put them in our lawns so everyone’s property value goes down. Yeeehaawww, this squabbling is fun.

Aaaarrrggghhhh!

Pirates have made a comeback not only on the big screen, but in the real world as well. Two cargo ships were hi-jacked in the Gulf of Aden on Wednesday. They weren’t hi-jacked by terrorists, but rather, by pirates. I’m sure these new-aged swashbucklers have replaced swords and cannons with machine guns and machetes, but that I bet they still where bandanas on their heads. Feel free to start using phrasing like “aaargghhh ye maties” and “walk the plank” at work. If people look at you funny, take their wallet and steal their wenches. That’ll show ‘em.

Next to make a comeback will be storming the castle. The bound-log battering ram will be replaced with a titanium rammer, but you can still ward off the assailants with scolding water as they break through the thresh hold. If you can’t find a castle, a really big lake house will suffice.

Check Out the Crazy Red Bull Helicopter!
They're not supposed to be able to do that.

A Good No-Call

In the end of the Spurs/Lakers game last night Brent Barry was supposedly fouled during his final shot. In the hopes to stir up controversy, the announcers immediately questioned the non-call, thus forcing their perceived controversy onto the situation. Sometimes it amazes me how badly announcers want to bring drama to a game that doesn’t need manufactured tension.

If you watched the play, the ball was passed to Barry with 2-seconds left on the clock. When he jumped to catch the ball, Derek Fischer of the Lakers jumped as well. Barry caught the ball and immediately put his head down and took one dribble into Fischer, who was still in the air. After the contact, Barry pulled up for a long desperation shot.

Two things are obvious, especially when you look at the replay. Barry initiated the contact, and he wasn’t’ even fouled while in the act of shooting. It was the best no-call of the night. Not only did Barry not deserve to shoot three free throws for a chance to win the game, he didn’t even deserve to shoot two for a chance to tie. But the announcers got their way. This morning everyone was talking about the phantom foul.

If I Had $1 Million.

Some guy found an old cup he used to play with as a kid in a shoebox under his bed. He knew the toy was old, so he took it to an antique dealer to have it appraised. It turns out the gold cup was from the Persian Empire and is expected to bring in almost $1 million at auction. Damn! Now I feel bad for throwing away all of my childhood toys. If you dig through my old things, you would only find broken dreams and despair. Maybe that’s worth $1 million.

Head Games Revisited: SNELL vs DOT

Four years ago I published an article through Motorcycle USA that compared DOT and SNELL testing standards on motorcycle helmets. Since then, my article has been quoted in many online debates about which test is better. After re-reading my original article, I want to point out a couple of things.

First, I simply said SNELL regulations require that a helmet be able to absorb a greater impact. I didn’t say this meant is they were undeniably safer. There’s a debate inferring that more rigid helmet may not absorb enough impact from a lighter crash, thus causing more damage. This is a possibility and should be looked into further.

Second, I mentioned that SNELL performed the tests on each helmet, and that DOT tests were done by the manufacturer. I’m surprised that this information is left out of most debates. I believe this is a more pertinent point in the argument. My focus was to show the checks and balances of having a third party do all of the testing, rather than relying on internal manufacturer ethics. It’s always easier to trust someone that doesn’t have a monetary interest in the outcome.

Finally, I want to state that this article was written four years ago. SNELL modifies their testing standards on a regular basis, and I’m not sure about DOT. The point is that referencing more recent articles on the subject would naturally create a stronger argument. Standards for testing and acceptable results could easily have changed since 2004.

Despite the lack of resolution in these heated debates, I’m glad to see that people are talking about the issue of motorcycle safety. Having a certified helmet is, by far, better than a non-certified one. I wrecked a bike going 60-mph and was thankful that my helmet passed not only DOT and SNELL regulations, but the real world test as well.

Okay, We Get It!

This is why I hate the local news. We’re amidst an obvious downward spiral of increasing gas prices (yeah, wrap your head around that). This is a truth we face every time we visit the pumps, and yes, it sucks. However, increasing gas prices is hardly newsworthy, but not according to every news station, everyday, on every broadcast.

I quit watching the news because every three minutes an anchor is filling me in on the “Pump Patrol.” What’s that you said? Gas prices are climbing again. I thought the $70 I just paid to Exxon was a figment of my imagination. It’s like when your puppy dies, and every single person you meet reminds you of how hard that must be.

I guess they finally figured out that reminding us about the imploding housing market was getting redundant. We know it’s hard, we know it sucks, find something worth telling us. What’s next? Is a reporter going to knock on my door, shoot me in the arm, and then say, “This just in, I shot you in the arm. Coming up at six, I’m going to talk with the guy I just shot and remind him that he may still be bleeding. And don’t miss our seven o’clock segment on how to avoid getting shot in the arm by reporters.”

Why don’t they just wait for prices to drop? When that happens, I want to hear about it. Until, show me that damn waterskiing squirrel again. At list, he was cute and fun.

Memorial Day

I hope everyone enjoyed this extended Memorial Day weekend. I also hope you took the time to remember our nation’s past, reflected on the freedoms you have, and thanked a soldier and their families for protecting these treasured gifts.

I SPY an End to My Unseen AFI:

Okay, Mr. Strahl. I’m going to make my final push this next week to finish up my AFI top 130 movies of all time. Those remaining on my list are: "Gone with the Wind," "The General," "African Queen," "Duck Soup," "The Jazz Singer," and "Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf."

I’ve rearranged my Blockbuster Queue, and it seems the only one I can’t get my hands on is "The African Queen." However, "Virginia Woolf" requires a very long wait. You asked for my updated list and here it is. Still not bad, I’d say; especially since I took the last six months off.

Of course, you said you were hot on my trail; tell me, which ones do you have left?

The Whole Ten Yards?

According a website describing the origins of idioms, there are several possible reasons why we say “the whole nine yards.” One Comes from World War II fighter pilots, whose planes typically wereoutfitted with enough machine-gun ammunition to extend 27 feet. If a pilotexpended all his ammunition on a mission, he would say, "I gave them thewhole nine yards".

Another says the term comes from the Scottish Great Kilt. The amount of wool for a full Great Kilt is a "whole nine yards".

While a third states concrete held by a concrete truck is measured in the unit 'yards'. The truck holds a total of nine yards of concrete. When all the concrete was needed they would say, give me the Whole nine yards.

I’m not refuting any of these explanations. I’m just amazed at how many things are measured out to nine yards when at full capacity. Ten just seems like a nice round number, but no, everyone feels the need to go with nine. Maybe they wanted ten, but it was too much work, so they always stopped at nine. Who knows? From now on when I go above and beyond, I’m going to say I went the whole ten yards. You won’t see me stopping one yard short.

Crime and Punishment

Finally justice has been served. The creator of ‘N SYNC and the Backstreet Boys has been sentenced to 25-years in prison. Lou Pearlman will say Bye, Bye, Bye (I know, it’s cheesy) to his freedom after stealing nearly $300 million from investors since the early 80s. He is yet, however, to be sentenced for exposing the world to extreme levels of “Boy Bands” dating back to the mid 90s; a crime far more severe in my mind. Synchronized dancing quintets will morn the loss of Pearlman as their dreams of singing in front of droves of screaming tweens will be put on hold. Fortunately, the “Boy Band” era isn’t due to make a comeback until Pearlman is eligible to be released on good behavior.

We all know how bad pedophiles and rapist get treated in the joint, and we can only assume that Pearlman will be dealt with more aggressively. His only hope is to work his magic (if there’s any left) and get the gangs on his side. Due out late next summer will be the hit single “I shivved him that way” by ‘N CLINK.

Inspired By Soft Rock of the 90s (Yahoo Radio)

I’m finally old enough to be nostalgic about my youth. At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.

Mushy! Aw Come On Man.

Being a man, I can easily push my emotions to the side and live my life. I know what I’m feeling and that’s good enough for me. What I fail to remember is that those around can’t read minds. It’s easy to neglect loved ones unintentionally, so every once and while I have to take a step back and proclaim my love from the rooftops. Of course, since I don’t have a rooftop, I will use my blog instead. Malinda, I love you very much. I can only imagine how difficult it is to be pregnant. I don’t know what you’re going through or how you feel, but I can tell you that I love you. We’ve made a nice little life together, and I know it will only get better. Thank you for being my wife.

The Accidental Handyman Strikes Again!

My fence making skills are premium, for sure.

Sophia Agrees!

She's admiring my work as we speak.

100, WOW, That's Neat!

I’m 100 blogs old today. The funny thing is that I don’t feel a blog older than 99. Imagine that bit of overused irony. Regardless of my mediocre milestone, I would still like to thank all three of my readers who only visit my site because I verbally abuse them if they don’t. It’s nice to know I can force patronage upon them. However, if I’m ever going to get syndicated, I’ll need a larger viewership. So beware all of you in cyberspace. I will find you, and you will read my words…and like them.

A Dark Day Afternoon

New England states witnessed dark skies engulf the region one afternoon in 1780. Residents of the northeast didn’t know what to think about the phenomena. Animals bedded down early while some people prayed expecting the end of days. The dark sky gave off and bronze glow, and when night finally fell, no moon or stars could be seen. No one could find a source of the mystery until last year.

Now a days our first explanation of such an incident would be ash from a wildfire or volcanic eruption, but since communication was slow in the 1700s, this couldn’t be proven. In fact, until recently, an actual source for the premature nightfall was never discovered. As it turns out, the dark skies were the result of a fire in Canada. However, fire scar evidence wasn’t found and dated until 2007.

It’s amazing how far we’ve come with technology. And with technological advances, we gain more insight on the eerie occurrences life has to offer. In the end, I’m not sure if I like knowing all of the answers. Has it made me more of a cynic? Do I question all that can’t be explained? Sometimes, it’s nice to chalk it up to miracles or the paranormal. Mysteries add spice and uncertainty to the world. But as much as I like the unknown, I can’t help myself from trying to find the answers anyway.

The 6Th Man

Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt will soon be able to start their own basketball team, complete with a sixth man, after reports confirm Jolie is pregnant with twins. Officially, they will have more kids, than employees at my office. They could remake Oliver Twist and not have to pay for child extras. They no longer make a standard SUV big enough for their family. This new set of twins for the Jolie-Pitts means that when sibling rivalries erupt, it will be a fair fight; a 3-on-3 smack down between the adopted and the conceived. I’m already trying to buy the rights for the reality TV show.

What keeps me up at night.

Did the last violinist on the Titanic wonder if his music fell upon deaf ears? As the cold water filled his shoes, did he pause and think perhaps now was the time to follow suit; to abandon ship while his songs faded into the night sky? Or did he laugh at the challenge, grip his rosined bow, and play for those willing to listen; knowing that failure and success are separated by a single breath. There is always an instant where despair can turn into hope.

News Break

A T-shirt seller created a shirt displaying a Curious George (a.k.a. monkey) type face with the phrase “Obama ‘08” under it. Even if the original intention wasn’t racially charged, the reaction should have been obvious. Boo on the T-shirt maker. We’ve come too far as a nation to have things like this happen. It’s depressing to know how far we still have to go. The next shirt to be made will have a picture of a donkey on it with the caption “T-shirt maker” under it. Ha, take that Mr. T-shirt maker. I got you.

The Smart Car got an A on its crash tests. Even though it looks like it explodes on impact, the frame design holds up well, and the airbags do their job. I still think that a car that small should get better than 40-miles-per-gallon; especially when a Ford Escape Hybrid gets 35 MPGs. I’m also amazed it’s not a number one seller amongst clowns.

China’s quake victims wait with patience. Despite being injured and homeless, many of the quake victims played cards and quietly waited for government aide. Some moans could be heard, but they came from the seriously injured. My question is whether they actually believe in their age-old-adage of “eat bitterness” or if they’re just too scared to complain. It is China after all. The last guy that complained about the Tibet incident was sentenced to three years in prison. If they complain about not getting adequate assistance, lack of medical treatment could be the least of their worries. Then again, I could just be too cynical to see the truth.

Experience is what you get when you don't get what you want.

Today when I speak, the world will listen.

Hey, did you hear me? I said you're supposed to listen. Is there anybody out there? No. Okay, nevermind. Maybe tomorrow.

The Sad Truth

Another week means another natural disaster will claim thousands of innocent lives. The most recent occurrence was an earthquake in China, which killed 9,000. As we continue to overpopulate the earth it just seems like more and more catastrophic events are occurring. I actually think we’re just crossing more into the fray where these things happen. Is the planet evolving? Of course it is. It always has. Too many people forget that almost the entire world was covered in ice not too long ago. It didn’t melt because of global warming. It melted because our environment is constantly changing, and as our (the human race) numbers grow, we increase the chances of experiencing this fluidity first hand.

Yes, the recent disasters are sad. Yes, thousands of people died and families were torn apart. The fact of the matter is that the earth has its own check and balance system. Maybe this is the only way we’re not going to overpopulate the world. Maybe the world is fighting back. You can only make a house of cards go so high before part of it comes tumbling down.

Why are all of the numbers scared of 7?

We already know that 7, 8, 9. But they weren't really scared until they found out that 7 killed 13's family and raped 5 in an alley behind Sesame Street. The Count still can't go out alone at night.

Tomorrow, I’m going to set my face to stun.

It all adds up.

Overwhelming Underachievement

A blind bowler scored a perfect 300 in Iowa last weekend. The 78-year-old man has an average of 188 despite the fact he can’t see the lanes. There was also a recent ruling that a double-legged amputee won’t be allowed to compete against “able-bodied” runners in this summer’s Olympic Games. His prosthetics may or may not give him an advantage, but the fact of the matter is that he’s fast enough to compete. Not only are these two cases amazing underdog stories, but they also give me an overwhelming sense of underachievement. There’s nothing like a story about someone rising up against all odds to make you feel like you’re failing in life. So I would like to say “thank you” to all of privileged people out there that are achieving their mediocre goals. You’re averageness allows me to keep my sanity. Of course, if an armless baseball player pitches a no-hitter in the Major Leagues, I just might have to kill myself.

Hooray for Friday!

I don’t know what it is about the work week, but the first couple of days seem to just drag along. But Thursday and Friday blow by. Nice! Regardless, let me be the first to say, “Hooray for Friday.”

The Vixen Within

Who knew that Barbara Walters was such a vixen back in her hey day? According to her recent memoir, she had an affair with the then married Senator Edward Brooke during the 1970s. They kept it a secret because it would have ruined both of their careers. It’s hard to picture the gray-haired journalist as a young and sexy home wrecker, but give me a minute and I’ll try. Oh yeah, go get ‘em Barbara. You do your thing.

Opening Acts

The wife and I went to an Augustana concert last night in Portland. Naturally, they were good. The lead singer has a great voice, but the sound engineering was sub par. You could barely hear the lead singer’s voice. This is a common nuisance when watching a headliner perform. It’s seems that when they get big enough to afford a sound technician, they decide to just turn everything up. This is why I enjoy opening acts so much. They’re usually more low key.

Last night’s opener was British singer David Ford. His music is in the same vein as Damien Rice and James Blunt but edgier. His performance was phenomenal, especially for a solo act. He would jump from instrument to instrument, recording and playing back loops, so by the end of the song it sounded like there was a whole band backing him up. I’ve seen people do this in a studio, but watching it live was something else.

We bought his CD at the concert for ten bucks. It’s good, but it lacks the emotions the live act provided. Regardless, if you’re into the light alternative scene, I definitely recommend checking out his album. If you have a chance to see Ford in person, jump on the opportunity. You won’t be disappointed.

I’ll Drink To That

Although Cinco de Mayo holds a long-standing tradition of getting drunk on cheap Mexican beer, there’s actually more to the story. Many people believe it’s a celebration of Mexico’s independence from Spain, but that was actually declared on September 16, 1810. Eleven years later, they actually achieved that independence. Cinco de Mayo actually celebrates the victory of the Mexican army over French troops in the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862.

Mexico had fallen into debt to several countries after the Mexican American War, but France was the only one who came to collect. The French army outnumbered Mexico’s militia forces nearly two-to-one, but the Mexicans were able to push the better-equipped army back. Now we celebrate this victory by drinking margaritas and pounding back 12-ounce cans of Dos Equies.

What most people don’t know is that France came back a year later and beat up on the Mexicans. They placed a leader in Mexico City for four years until he was executed after an uprising.

Whipless

With the recent utilization of Eight Belles at the Kentucky Derby this weekend, a lot of horse racing professionals are re-examining the rules and traditions utilized in the sport. One rule change that’s being considered is removing the whip from racing. A growing number of trainers, jockeys, and of course PETA, support this idea. The general consensus is that it’s an unnecessary tradition and doesn’t raise the level of competition.

I’m not much of a horseracing fan, so they can do what ever they want concerning whips. As long they can still be used by Indiana Jones and in the bedroom, I have no problems with its deletion from racing. Now, you take it away from Indiana and then we’d have problems

Tom Cruise – Insert punch line here –

In an interview with Oprah, Tom Cruise said that he wouldn’t take back the couch jumping fiasco that started his downward media spiral three years ago. In a non-related story, Steve Bartman was overheard mentioning that he will continue to try to catch every foul ball at Cub’s games, Mike Tyson claims he doesn’t regret biting off Holyfield’s ear, and the Japanese would still bomb Pearl Harbor even if we rewound time. Oh, and did I mention Bill Clinton feels no remorse about the blue dress incident. Okay, that last one actually is true, but you didn’t hear it from me.

My wife peed on a stick and a baby came out!

Pretty soon I’ll be daddy squared.

Late Movie Review: Charlie Wilson’s War

I finally got to watch Charlie Wilson’s War starring Tom Hanks, Julia Roberts, and Philip Seymour Hoffman. Despite the critical acclaim it received when it was in theaters, I just wasn’t pulled into the story from the previews, so I put off seeing the film. After watching it last night, I’m ashamed that it took me as long as it did to experience this gem.

I loved almost every minute of Charlie Wilson’s War. The acting was excellent, especially Hoffman portraying CIA Agent Gust Avrakotos. Now that I’ve seen all of the Oscar nominated performances, I have to admit I think he was slightly robbed by not taking home the golden statue. Of course, the actors had a great script to work with. It was much funnier than expected and moved at a great pace.

Above all, I think the underlying message is as pertinent as ever. Charlie explains that we go in to a country in despair and kick some ass. Then we leave. When we drop the ball on our way out, and it keeps on bouncing. It speaks to the Cold War situation and our current one. If we go in, tear up a government, and leave without rebuilding, the country is left to fend for itself. The population is young and impressionable, and without proper education, they’re easily swayed. Eventual rebels and terrorists will pick up the pieces. That’s why we are back in Afghanistan now. We didn’t rebuild what we help tear down in the late 80s. Faced with the same situation now, we’re trying to do the right thing.

The problem isn’t finding an answer; it’s finding the right answer. Situations are fluid, governments change, and no matter how hard you try to do good, the result will never be proven, only assumed. The Zen master in the fable has it absolutely correct when he only replies, “We shall see.”

“These things happened and they were glorious. But we f**ked up the end game,” Charlie Wilson.