If I was a Communist Dictator….

1. Britney Spears, P-Diddy, Paris Hilton, Nicole Ritchie, Missy Elliott, Snoop Dogg, Lil John, Lindsay Lohan and people of their ilk would be loaded onto a bus and driven off a cliff

2. The obnoxious kiosk sales people at the mall would not be allowed to accost you as you try to shop

3. Mimes and clowns would be banned—they creep me out

4. Anybody who let their dog poop in my yard would get their nose rubbed in it

5. Rachel Ray would be a mute

6. The police would work on real crimes (robbery, assault, murder, etc.) and not worry about me speeding

7. All shopping malls would be razed and sporting goods stores built in their place

8. Anyone associated with soft rock in any way would be sent to a gulag. This includes family. There can be no exceptions

9. Arrested Development would immediately be back on TV and continue in perpetuity

10. I would never register my car, get an inspection, pay my taxes, wait at the DMV or deal with government bureaucracy in any other way

More Reality TV Cry Babies!

It's been awhile since I've blogged so I figured I'd whip something out. I've got a wonderful blog all written and ready to post but Jocelyn keeps telling me to not post it because it's inappropriate. Stay tuned to see who wins this struggle of wills!

Anyway, tonight I was watching Survivor with Jocelyn while taking a studying break and it happened to be the episode where the family members show up to participate in one of the challenges. Like everything with Survivor this is a predictably lame stunt that happens every season. And you can always count on the fact that these people will cry like they've just been reunited with a POW that everyone thought was dead when in fact they've only been separated 30 days! I just don't get it. Where do they find these emotional wimps? I keep in touch with my family but there have been times where a month has gone by without speaking to them and I certainly didn't break down into unintelligible sobbing when we finally talked. Every time I see this episode I think to myself, "These people would have made terrible missionaries." I'll be heading home to Indiana in a few weeks for Christmas and am really excited but don't expect any tears.



P.S.

Check out my Yahoo radio station. You'll love it.

Trick Play

Adam Smith long ago postulated that each man competing against the other pursuing his own self interest would in the end serve the greater good of society and that the “invisible hand” of competition would regulate free markets creating unprecedented wealth. In general the ideas of Adam Smith are universally accepted in the Western world and today competition represents the underpinnings or our capitalistic society. It permeates everything we do and shapes the way we interact with others and perceive the world. In general I buy into Adam Smith’s ideas and am ammenable to competition. But as ususal too much of a good thing is, well you know.

From a very early age we put our kids in tee-ball, pee wee football, soccer, etc. Lessons on competition and winning are taught in these venues and often the lessons are fairly disturbing. Parents and coaches seem to take this stuff much more seriously than the kids and winning is many times the one and only object. For me this winning at all costs mentality has gone too far as evidenced by this video.

Whatever happened to winning the right way and respecting your opponent? At this age, kids should be playing to learn the fundamentals and enjoy the game. Instead they’re being taught to punk the other side with cheap tricks and to bend and distort the rules to their benefit all in the name of winning.

Winning is a lot of fun and can feel great, but doing it in this manner strips away the pleasure. And honestly, as a coach, what joy can you derive by duping a bunch of dumb little kids with a second rate trick. Are you gonna go brag to your buddies all about how you beat a bunch of kids with a lame trick play? If you’re so obsessed with winning, maybe you should pull an Andy Kaufman and start wrestling women. On second thought, there’s some tough ladies out there. Let’s make it little girls. Then you’ll always be a winner.

What a joke.

Mmmm Pets!

So I read these two articles the other day and here are my thoughts:

Pets Being Slaughtered in Meat Starved Zimbabwe

'Hungry' Man Rips Off Duck's Head

1. Kind of ironic that there is no shortage of money when it’s time to buy guns to propagate genocide across Africa but not enough money for food.

2. Good on em for eating their pets. I appreciate resourceful people.

3. Eating your pets is certainly nobler than asking for a handout or letting your children starve.

4. I’d do it.

5.I really like meat. If I was starving and had no meat…watch out pets

6. It was nice to see that the SPCA realized this was a true moral dilemma. If they had interviewed the PETA people, I’m sure they would have railed against the people of Zimbabwe for eating their pets.

7. All you can eat contests are the height of gluttony and a slap in the face to the truly hungry.

8. I’d eat well if I was homeless. I wouldn’t just be warming my hands over that trash can fire. I’d be grilling up some pigeon, squirrel, stray cat, etc.

9. The duck guy should go to jail for stealing but not animal cruelty. Where do you think the phrase “wringing someone’s neck” came from? If this requires jail time, then I guess our ancestors were degenerates that should have spent their lives in jail.

10. How is living in a hotel lobby pond unsafe? It’s heated in the winter and air conditioned in the summer. You get fed every day. And you don’t ever have to worry about being eaten alive by a coyote. Watch out for hungry drunks though!

Soft Rock Hell

While getting my hair cut the other day, I was forced to listen to the soft rock garbage playing on Magic 95. I was trapped; there was no escape. The experience nearly caused me to impale myself on the stylist's scissors. When you’re being subjected to a Lionel Ritchie song, plunging a pair of scissors into your throat seems like a viable option. Anything to stop the pain!

All these soft rock stations seem to be Magic something or another. How did magic get associated with soft rock? I'm no fan of magic but being linked to soft rock seems like pretty harsh punishment. There's nothing magic about soft sock. If there was, it would disappear.

For the same reasons no one wants sour lemonade, warm ice cream, or dull razor blades there’s no need for soft rock. Listening to soft rock is like being served a turd sandwich; a complete and disgusting disappointment. These soft rock stations really should run a disclaimer--May induce vomiting or suicidal thoughts.

Soft rock is such a huge misnomer. The stuff is atrocious and has nothing to do with rock. Rock isn't soft; that's the whole point. Rock n roll should make you lose control. The only thing soft rock will make you lose is your will to live. It takes some real cajones to think you can take something great like rock n roll and “soften” it. Like eating a veggie burger, this bastardization of rock is sickening. What gives them the right? Did they consult the King before doing this? That’s what I thought.

This blog wouldn’t be complete without thanking Matthew Knecht for saving me from a life of soft rock hell. Shamefully I must admit there was a time when I thought I liked soft rock. I blame my mother for this. Hours and hours spent in a mini van listening to soft rock can scramble your brains. That was my mental state. Luckily Matthew snapped me out of this funk by introducing me to real rock—Metallica! Once I heard Enter Sandman I knew things would never be the same for me again. I kicked that soft rock trash to the curb and never looked back.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOCELYN!

It's time to kick that Compaq to the curb!

Travel Thoughts

I’m sitting on a plane traveling back to Austin from San Jose and have a few thoughts running through my head.

1. Silicon Valley is nice but gimme a break—million dollar 1500 sq. ft. ranch homes?—it’s not that nice.

2. I like driving rental cars. It’s like being 16 all over again. You get to hammer the gas, make sharp turns, drive too fast, squeal the tires, blast the speakers and not feel bad because, hey, it’s a rental. And the Impala I had this week was about a million times faster than my gutless Civic.

3. The stale fart smell on this plane is really disgusting. There is a bathroom you know. I can’t complain too much though because I’ve been known to contribute myself.

4. I eat like a pig when I travel for work. It’s all expensed so I go overboard. On a normal day I eat soup for lunch, have dinner and then open the pantry about a hundred times after dinner looking for something else to eat but don’t really eat anything because there is no food I want in the pantry which is by design because if there was I’d eat all night.

Here’s my food log from this week’s travels:
Tuesday
Dinner I—I had a huge Amy’s Ice Cream waffle cone before getting on the plane
Dinner II—ate an overpriced meal at the hotel of soup, calamari, and tuna. None of it was very good either. Hotel food generally sucks since they know they have you trapped there. I’ve had better soup from the cafeteria at work.

Wednesday
Breakfast--Big chocolate pastry, large hot chocolate from the coffee shop below where I was working
Lunch--Pot pie and smoothie
5pm Snack--Salami, pepperoni, prosciutto, cheese, and crackers at the hotel—this was really delicious and could have sufficed for my dinner.
Dinner--20oz porterhouse at Outback with sweet potato—I felt disgusting as I walked out. I thought of my “vegan” mother in law.

Thursday
Breakfast—took it easy and just had a banana and some strawberries
Lunch—made up for breakfast and had a big hot pastrami sandwich with potato chips and Dr. Pepper—quite tasty
Dinner—Spare ribs appetizer, pan seared red snapper w/ asparagus and cous cous, and ice cream with ganache at Trader Vics in downtown San Francisco. This was a really good meal and surprisingly affordable—much better than Outback

Friday
Breakfast I—Pepsi and granola bar in my room before leaving for the airport
Breakfast II—Cinnabon with candied pecans and caramel sauce and a peach smoothie. The Cinnabon smells so damn good it’s impossible to pass up. Unless I have to pay for it of course. Then I have all kinds of self control. Just ask Jocelyn.
As you can see, if I were to do much traveling, I’d be well on my way to an early heart attack.

5. The stale fart smell is back—not good

6. The Hyatt Regency in Santa Clara is really overpriced but they do have really good meat, cheese and crackers—I could go for some more of that right now.

7. Why do the cheap hotels have free internet access and the expensive ones want you to pay for it?

8. Dell makes billions of dollars so why do I feel guilty about spending so much on travel? ( I stayed within all company guidelines) I think it’s because I have no concept of billions of dollars. If I did I probably would have spent even more!

9. Seinfeld was right. Once you’ve had 1st Class you can’t go back. I go crazy all cramped up in the tiny coach seats. I feel like the little kid in the 6th Sense when he gets locked in that attic room and freaks out. Minus the dead people of course. The Exit row is great though and luckily that’s where I’m sitting.

10. Happy Birthday Jocelyn! Now that you’re 30, I think it’s appropriate to refer to you as my old lady. What do you think?

Sucks to be Ute!

Oregon State—24
Utah—7

Not only did the Pukes lose, they also had some heartbreaking injuries. It really tears me up inside. Can't you tell!


Starting running back suffered a season ending broken leg.








Starting QB went down with a separated shoulder. Not sure if it is season ending but I won't lose any sleep if it is.

Where Have You Gone Gwen Stefani

Dear Gwen,
Please come back. You’re better than this. There’s no need to prostitute yourself. There’s plenty of hip hop whores as it is. I was willing to forgive your first indiscretion (it’s been hard to forget though). I pretended it never happened. But then you went and did this.

It’s like I don’t even know you anymore. What happened to my beautiful talented 1996 Gwen? You were a revelation to me. Your bright red lipstick and funky attitude made me swoon. Look at yourself now. It’s as if you’ve gone brain dead.

I’m bewildered by the new you. Imagine Gandhi becoming a terrorist, Whitney Houston laying off the crack, or Dick Cheney turning into a caring man. All preposterous scenarios. Just like this little hip hop foray of yours.

Maybe you just need to get away from it all. Get out of Hollywood and get back to the real Gwen. A little time away could do wonders. I’ve got a spare bedroom here in Texas. You’re welcome to it. My wife won’t mind. I promise. Anything to help you get back on track.

You’re too talented to throw it all away like this. I don’t want to give up on you, but I just can’t handle another misguided hip hop album. So please come back to your senses.

Desperately awaiting your reformation,

Ben





Disclaimer:
The above post is a blatant rip off of a concept often seen on the Shrff’s blog.

Tennis Shoes and Bongos

Today I had to go downtown for an all day HR forum. This was your classic corporate get together highlighted by a couple of ridiculous moments.

As part of the day we had to attend a couple of seminars one of which was entitled “Organization Diagnostics”. Sounds riveting huh? As an example of diagnostics the instructor used a story about taking her horse to the vet at Texas A&M. She told us that she had more horses than sense and by the end of her story I determined she also had more money than sense. She had “rescued” the horse from the slaughterhouse and the horse wasn’t doing well. Imagine that. So she carts the thing down to Texas A&M to get a full examination of x-rays, blood work, etc. and learned from the vet that the horse had arthritis and bad hooves. As a result, she had to get an anti-inflammatory for the horse’s arthritis and here’s the kicker—special tennis shoes for the horse. Did I just hear that right? She’s got a horse that wears tennis shoes? At this point, I’m checked out because what can you learn from someone that keeps an old horse that wears tennis shoes? Rather than blowing a wad of cash on the vet, anti-inflammatories, and tennis shoes, I could have diagnosed and solved this problem much quicker and for a lot less.

The second ridiculous moment of the day happened after our classes were finished. Everyone was waiting outside the ballroom to go back in but the doors were shut and we weren’t allowed in. Suddenly the doors opened to a room full of bongo drums and a music group on stage beating away on their drums.

The following thoughts instantly flashed through my mind. WTH? This isn’t good. How can I get out of here without my boss knowing I skipped? What embarrassing things am I gonna be forced to do? Well, I realized there was no way to skip without getting caught so I was stuck.

The pony tailed twit leading this whole thing was the worst kind of obnoxious. He was like Tony Robbins on weed and was so into the whole thing it was making me sick. He was running around getting everyone to play their drums and then started talking all this new age mumbo jumbo about one beat, one rhythm, communicating through drumming, blah, blah, blah. I absolutely hate garbage like this.

There really is something to be said about having a respectable job--a job you’re proud to tell people about. Playing bongo drums with a bunch of corporate stiffs isn’t one of them. Picking up road kill, cleaning bathrooms, or flipping burgers, jobs generally ridiculed by society, are infinitely more respectable. At least you’re providing a necessary service.

Unfortunately the drumming activity, like the energizer bunny, just kept going, and going, and going. I was trying my hardest to not look totally disgusted with the whole thing but that’s a real stretch for me. I find stupidity insufferable, and for me, this was stupidity at the highest level. Finally it all came to an end and I avoided being duped into doing anything ridiculous. I can’t say the same for a lot of other people.

Victory!

Last week I came across this message board post and spent a couple of hours reading about different people's reaction to the BYU win over Utah last November. I totally related to these guys, and the whole message thread made me smile. So here's how my experience went.

I was in Manila last year and didn't get to watch the game, but I got up at 4:00 am to listen on KSL. I was hoping for a crushing humiliating defeat of the Utes, and after the first quarter, that seemed like a real possibility. However, things took a turn for the worse in the 2nd and 3rd quarters, and the game got very close. I was really fretting but still had confidence in the Cougs. By the 4th quarter though when Utah scored the go ahead touchdown with 1:20 remaining, I was physically ill. Things were bleak, and it appeared we would lose to the Pukes again. I just couldn't stomach the thought of having another year ruined by losing to the infernal Utes. I witnessed BYU's heartbreaking overtime loss to Utah in Lavell Edwards Stadium the year before, and it was more than I could take. Was I going to have to endure this another year? You often hear stories about an old couple where one of them dies and then the other dies in short order for no real reason other than what seems to be a broken heart. That's the path I was headed down. My heart just couldn't take another loss.

At this point I was dumbfounded. How could we let this happen again? We were clearly the better team. We were the better team last year too. What was wrong in the Universe? I did have an inkling of hope though because Utah left us 1:20 on the clock. With so little time, the odds are really against you, but I knew BYU's offense was capable of scoring in that amount of time. Listening to that last drive my stomach was in knots as I desperately hoped for a victory. We had to convert an agonizing 4th down, but somehow we managed to march down the field and get in a position to take two shots at the end zone before time would expire. On the first play, no one was open and Beck’s pass fell incomplete. We were down to one final play. The play began with me doubled over in my chair, pulling at my hair, breathing heavily, and begging for a victory when suddenly the announcer shrieked "Caught for the touchdown! Caught for the touchdown!” I immediately slumped to the floor overcome with joy and relief shouting "Yes! Yes! Yes!” After a few moments I picked myself up and started bouncing around our little apartment unable to contain my exuberance. Hallelujah! Things were right in the Universe again, and BYU claimed their rightful spot atop the Utes.

Thoroughly kicking the crap out of a team is nice, but devastating a team by snatching a victory away in the final seconds on their home field is so much sweeter. In the end, this was the most crushing defeat of all. Go Cougs!

P.S.
If you’re a BYU fan having a bad day, watch this clip and I promise all will be well in your world again. I just watched it and tears of joy welled up in my eyes. No matter how many times I watch the clip and despite the fact I know the outcome, I can't help but throw my arms up in exuberance and shout "Touchdown! Touchdown!" I literally get giddy.

Here are some other great links:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=lKQm9-fwlO8&mode=related&search
http://youtube.com/watch?v=6ga0BGlvqJE&mode=related&search
http://youtube.com/watch?v=ioPt9D90Lx4&mode=related&search

Ice Fishing

Well it's hotter than hell here in Texas with no relief in sight. Wishing for some kind of relief, I started thinking about ice fishing. Ice fishing is one of the great rewards of living in the North, and not being able to ice fish here in Texas is one of the reasons I won't be staying long. I'm really not a fan of hot weather and much prefer living in a cooler climate. Don't get me wrong. Summer is nice, but day after day of unrelenting heat is miserable. I'm always ready for summer to be over and for fall to start. And unlike most people, I anxiously await the onset of truly cold weather. I watch the weather like a hawk waiting for that first consistent stretch of single digit or sub zero lows which will put ice on the lakes. Also, ice fishing is best right after the ice forms so that makes it even more important know when the ice has formed.

I like at least 3 inches but really prefer 4 inches of ice. At first ice, I also like to let others go out first. No reason for me to be the guinea pig! Some guys will go out on 2 inches of ice; I'm not one of them. It's a cold bath if you go through. I broke through once as a little kid but only one leg went in the drink. My grandpa wasn’t too happy with me either because we had to cut our ice fishing short. In fact he made me sit there for like 15 minutes while he kept fishing. Once he realized I was freezing though, he decided to leave.

I went to Utah for Christmas this year and went ice fishing twice. I convinced my brother-in-law Kevin to fish Rockport with me, and it was a great time. The weather had gotten really warm so the edges of the ice were melted, and the ice had an inch or so of water on top of it. I'll be honest; it looked pretty scary. We managed to find a spot where the edges werent too melted and jumped onto the ice. From there it got even scarier because the ice was completely translucent. So we were gingerly shuffling our way across the ice and could see right through it. That'll really make you pucker your butt cheeks. I drilled some test holes though and found the ice to be 3 inches thick so we were good. It was still spooky though.

Ice fishing really isn't that cold of an activity if you dress right; unfortunately neither Kevin nor I were very prepared. It had been pretty warm so we didn't wear a lot of clothes. Big mistake. You should always over dress because you can take layers off, but you can't put them on. It wasn't bitterly cold; however, with no sunshine and the wind blowing, it felt pretty raw out there. As long as the wind doesn't blow, you're usually fine, but when the wind picks up, it can get nasty real quick. We were catching enough fish though to tough it out. We didn't catch a lot but were getting bites consistently enough that we stayed for a fair amount of time. You can't leave if the fish are biting no matter how cold you are! We managed to catch a few trout and some perch. I fried the perch up for Ned and me, and they were delicious.

Later in the week I went ice fishing at Strawberry with a guy (Kent) I met from a fishing message board in Utah. Sounds kinda weird, but I promise it's no big deal. Anyway, we left Salt Lake at 5:30 am and got back around 7:30 pm so it was a full day. Kent had more gear than anyone I've ever seen. He had propane heaters, collapsable ice shack, power auger, hand auger, GPS unit, tons of fishing poles, two fish finders, an underwater camera, and a bunch of other stuff I can't remember. I got the pleasure of dragging all this stuff out to our first fishing spot a half mile from the truck. The GPS said half mile so I'm not exaggerating. There was a lot of snow on the ice and the sled was dragging through the snow rather than riding on top of it which made for slow going. By the time we got to our spot, I was sweating and pretty worn out. It was worth it though because we started catching nice cutthroats right away.

After a few hours, the fishing slowed and the wind picked up making things much colder and prompting Kent to decide to move to an island about a mile away. I wasn't looking forward to dragging everything over there, but I was his guest so off we went. I would go 50 to 100 feet tops and then have to stop to catch my breath. Kent was dragging stuff too, and I seriously thought he was going to die. He could go about half as far as me and then would be doubled over heaving. I kept thinking he was gonna have a heart attack at any moment. It’s a good thing he didn’t because I wasn’t giving mouth to mouth to some guy I just met.

We finally got to our new spot and set up the ice shack. That got us out of the wind and made things much warmer. We also started catching fish right away and kept on catching fish the rest of the day. It was one of the best days of ice fishing I've ever had. The coolest thing was using the fish finder. You could see the fish on the screen as soon as they swam under your hole and you could also see your jig on the screen. By moving your jig up to the fish, you would usually get a bite. Thankfully the trek back to the truck was much easier because the wind had blown the snow off the ice which made dragging the sled much easier.

My other 3 ice fishing trips happened in February when I went home for my grandma's funeral. I wish I could have gone home under better circumstances, but it was great to see my whole family and to go ice fishing with my dad. Ice fishing with my dad is pretty low tech. No fish finders, fancy reels, or ice shacks. He’s still using the same equipment he’s had for 30 years. That’s what I love about ice fishing though. It’s cheap, simple, and provides easy access to any lake. My dad and I went ice fishing at the little gravel pit just south of North Manchester. I like this gravel pit because it brings back good memories of fishing as a kid with my dad. Any time I drive by it, I tell Jocelyn that is where I used to fish with my dad, and she usually says something like “Yeah, I know. You tell me that every time we drive by here.” I doubt that there are any big fish in the gravel pit, but Dad and I did manage to catch a nice mess of bluegill and crappie which provided for a good fish fry before I left.

I really wish I could ice fish more, but I’ll have to wait until at least the end of the year. I’ll be in Indiana for Christmas so here’s to hoping that it’s freezing cold and all the lakes are frozen.