The wild bachelor weekend of a married father of 1...

"I'm going to Calgary to visit my brother and his fianceé on March 9th, and I think I will take Paige with me while she still flies for free."

Such a sentence sends a chill down the spine of any married man. Not a chill of fear mind you, a chill of excitement. A weekend at home with no wife and no kid(s)? Gentlemen, get your beer faces on, its time to throw down.

The word bachelor does not apply to me anymore, you see, I have been married for almost 5 years and my wife and I have a daughter who turns 2 at the end of March. The only time I utter the word bachelor, is when we are reliving past glories of bachelor parties come and gone.

(*note - The term "bach'n it", or "batchin" is not to be used. At all. I dont even understand it.)

So, when my wife laid out her travel plans, I considered my options. Since Lisa and Paige's flight was leaving Friday at 10pm, I still had Friday night to consider. Saturday was not going to be an option because I was slated to work some overtime, which started a 6. I also had a playoff basketball game in my men's league on Sunday at 10:30am, so the responsible adult in me had resigned myself to an early Saturday night after finishing work.

Ever heard the term, "When the cat is away, the mice will play"? I know, I know. It is standard 1950s drivel that has managed to entrench itself into pop culture vernacular to this very day. Well, some men take that phrase and run with it the second they are in bachelor mode.

Me? Not so much. I mean, I had planned on going out and having some drinks, but never once did a trip to a local night club cross my mind. Am I getting old? Maybe. But here is the thing, I have done the bar scene. Repeatedly. The bar scene is Paris Hilton, and I am every 20 something male living in Los Angeles. Been there. Done it. It is a sad and tired exercise of leering, yelling and groping all wrapped up in the stench of beer breath and cigarettes. I have no interest in flocking to a crappy warehouse converted into a bass pumping, light flashing shithole just to say that I was reliving my single days.

On the other hand, its not like I was looking to head to some smarmy coffee house and sit quietly while some phoney douchebag in a dashiki and a DC cap reads passages of shitty poetry where he rhymes "Helen of Troy" with "Fall Out Boy".

I was just planning on socializing with friends, and if the opportunity presented itself, getting pissed and sleeping in the next day.

Rather than banter on about what I had planned on doing, let me just chronicle what I actually did do on my wild bachelor weekend. If anyone who reads this wishes to live vicariously through my wild and crazy actions, then feel free.

Friday, March 9th.
4:00pm - Plans are made to meet my Dodgeball team at the Tap for drinks after our game (which is at 9 and I am missing). Sounds fun. I like the Tap.

4:15pm - Oh man, work is cancelled for Saturday night. Looks like I have another night free. But remember, I still have that playoff game on Sunday morning.

5:12 - Arrive home with Paige after picking her up from the sitter. Lisa is still at work, she gets home at 7pm. Her flight leaves at 10pm.

5:15 - Leave the house en route to Shopper's, because I forgot to pick up some Children's Gravol for Paige, as Lisa had asked me to do only 10 minutes before - I'm terrible at remembering stuff like that.

6:00 - Paige has had supper and is playing. We are waiting for Lisa to get home.

7:45 - Lisa's parents arrive for a visit to say so long to Paige and Lisa

9:15 - Lisa makes a sudden realization that she should be at the airport earlier than 9:40ish because she is going to have to check Paige's car-seat in.

9:25 - Arrive at airport. Luggage is checked in and they are about to head to security.

9:27 - I kiss them both goodbye and they are walking down the aisle to airport security. Paige stops halfway and looks back to me. "Daddy? C'mon." She says. My heart is broken. Lisa takes Paige's hand and tells her that Daddy is staying at home and that just Paige and Mommy are going on holidays. As they walk toward security Paige looks over her shoulder twice more. I can see that she is saying "Daddy?" but I cant hear it. Wow, I never thought I would be so sad to be a bachelor for a weekend. We're off to a roaring start.

10:15 - At the Tap with my Dodgeball team. A tall glass of beer is in front of me. I'm having a good time but the image of Paige looking back at me and asking for me is burned into my heart and mind for the rest of my life.

11:27 - Dammit. Broke the seal.

11:50 - A few beers in and arguing the merits of Shawn Bradley's NBA career with a buddy. Good times.

12:15am - Lisa calls, their flight was good and all is well. I'm glad to hear they landed safe and are settling in, meanwhile, I order another beer.

12:59am - Last call anyone?

1:50pm - The lights just came on. It has been a long time since I have been in a bar/pub and the lights came on.

2:15 - Arrive home. Throw jacket on the floor, leave a trail of clothes on the way to the bedroom and crash. Holy shit, I get to sleep in tomorrow.

Saturday, March 10th
7:14am - Wake up. Stupid internal clock. Roll over.

9:44am - Wake up again. Realize that it is 9:44 and relish this rare chance to sleep in. Even go so far as to put my hands behind my head and smile. Ahhh...

10:04 - Lisa and Paige call. They let me know what they have planned for the day, etc.

10:58 - I am showered, dressed and leaving the house. Headed out to run some errands, maybe do some shopping.

12:55pm - New shoes purchased, as well as various other tasks completed. Arriving home.

1:15 - Eat something, now its time for NHL07, NBA Live 07 and Tiger Woods 07 on the Xbox.

3:00 - Organize poker game at my house for Saturday night. First hand at 8:30.

4:30 - Still playing Xbox.

5:04 - Leave house to go get some ice, chips, beer and other stuff for the poker game.

7:30 - Guys arrive. Its a small crew, but that increases my odds of winning - or at least shortens my wait when I bust out of the game.

7:40 - Curse at how much we all hate the Toronto Maple Leafs - who we are watching on my 42" plasma. HD is nice, but man those Leafs are terrible.

7:50 - Borat makes his first appearance in our conversation.

7:53 - I start playing the Borat movie, so we could show a couple guys the choice scenes.

8:30 - First hand of poker dealt

10:50 - I win. I'll spare you a boring poker tale of how I came back from a 5 to 1 chip count disadvantage.

11:05 - Game 2 starts.

1:15am - I'm out. Two guys left. The rest of the guys are starting to leave as well.

2:07 - Game is over, guys are just leaving. I contemplate cleaning up. Playoff basketball game in little more that 8 hours.

Sunday, March 11th
8:21am - Alarm. Snooze.

8:30 - Alarm. Get up. Start coffee maker. Get in shower.

9:05 - Showered and I have my basketball stuff all ready to go.

9:10 - Insert "Ultimate Jordan" DVD, cue up scenes from the 92 NBA Finals where Jordan hit 6 three pointers and scored something like 35pts - in the first HALF. I have it cranked so loud that I dont hear the phone ring.

9:45 - Realize I missed Lisa's call. Call her back and she and Paige wish me luck in my game. Head out.

10:04 - Arrive at hoops game, head feeling a little thick from last night, but the Gatorade is helping.

12:05pm - Headed home after game. We friggin lost. Brutal way to end season. Piss-ant referee did his best to shape the outcome of the game. Cant stand that little prick. I played well, even considering my wild and crazy bachelor ways.

1:30 - More Xbox.

1:45 - Make plans with a buddy to go see "300" at 3:45

3:30 - At movie theater. Looking forward to seeing this flick.

6:17 - Get home. Movie was good. It was Gladiator meets Sin City. Really entertaining. Consider calling some friends to go out for something to eat.

6:18 - Reconsider. Eat.

6:50 - Throw in a movie. "Star Wars" or "Empire Strikes Back"? Star Wars it is.

9:03 - Talk to Lisa and Paige.

9:15 - Consider throwing in another movie.

9:16 - Reconsider. Watch 30 Rock, the Office and then an NBA game.

11:35 - Headed to bed. Work tomorrow.

***
And thats it. You see, my weekend started off with the intention of being a wild and crazy bachelor weekend. But it turned out to be a weekend alone with a few sprinklings of bachelor activity. To be honest, I was quite bored most of the time. I missed hanging out with my wife and daughter and was looking forward to them coming home.

Wow. Man has my life changed. Only a few short years ago, any weekend without my wife would have had a time line that looked like this:

Friday
9:30 - Wife is gone.

9:58 - Drunk.

Hey, I'm not saying I didnt have fun this weekend. Friday night was awesome, Saturday was too. The movie on Sunday was great. I had a good weekend. I just wasnt as shit my pants drunk as I have been in the past. I guess creeping up on 30 does that to a guy.

Nervous? Who, me? Of course I am...

"I always feel pressure. If you don't feel nervous, that means you don't care about how you play. I care about how I perform."
~ Tiger Woods

Okay, I'm no Tiger Woods (my teeth arent ginormous). But I can relate to his quote on nerves and/or pressure.

You see, I am emcee-ing my brother-in-law's wedding this Friday, and to be honest, I'm a little nervous.

Nerves are natural, etc, etc -- blah blah... but for this cat - they are not usually an issue. Unlike 87% of the world's population, I do not have an issue with public speaking. I enjoy it acutally. I thrive on it. I love it. Maybe its just my ego's way of getting what it needs - as you are never more the center of attention than when you are the sole man at a microphone at a family wedding.

I have emceed (is that even a friggin word?) a few weddings prior to this one, so I pretty much know what to expect and how to conduct myself - but as this one fast approaches, I find myself lying awake at night hashing over the program and going over jokes again and again and again.

Am I confident? Abso-fucking-lutely. There will not be a single person in attendance on Friday night that would be able to do a better job than I can. I'm serious. Does that make me sound cocky? Maybe - but its the truth.

But that still doesnt prevent me from asking myself questions repeatedly:

Is this funny?
Does that flow correctly?
Should I leave this part out?
Hows my timing on that joke?
This isnt too offensive, is it?
Is this funny?


Now, this mental scrambling is human nature I guess... but, as I said, I really havent been this nervous before... maybe its the fact that its a family wedding (my wife's family - but family nonetheless)... maybe its the fact that I really want to do a great job for my brother-in-law and his new beautiful bride... actually...

I think the main reason I am suffering with a little case of the nerves this time is because - well, this is my 4th trip as an emcee, and it is getting really really hard to come up with new material... re-using jokes is not an option for me, as I know that I am far too talented to fall back on an old bit, and also, all of our friends will be in attendance - so they have heard them all before...

So, like I said - the pressure is on... but like Tiger... I thrive on that pressure...

I'll be damn sure to bring the funny on Friday night - and I'll be back here tooting my own horn come Monday morning...

So, until that time -- don't let your meat loaf....

The Mighty Mustache

"A man without a moustache is a man without a soul"
~ Confucius

You know what I like? Mustaches. Anyway you shape em, mustaches are cool. Often times referred to as a stache, they are the pinnacle of macho male grooming.

(**ATTENTION** Female mustaches are NOT cool. They are disgusting and anyone who says otherwise is not welcome here. Mind your business people. I am not in the mood...)

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, the Mighty Mustache. I think the stache needs to come back, in a big way. Its been too long since a leading man in Hollywood rocked a full on stachio. Hell, who cares about them phonies in Hollywood, let's bring em back ourselves... I say we should bring the stache back into the fold of coolness, and not just indie-coolness... I'm talkin mainstream coolness... I'm talking Old Navy mainstream coolness that will get today's adolescent men to start sporting a stache from day 1.

In case anyone is curious about the stache but isnt sure what style to roll with, let's just break down (in no particular order) the top types of the stache, shall we?

- The Conventional Dad Stache
This is your run of the mill, neatly trimmed, edge of the lip but no further stache. You can see these everywhere, and while they are cool because they are a stache, I would have to say that this style is tough to pull off an make it look cool... unless your a Dad... or PGA Tour star Corey Pavin, circa 1996.


- The Bushy Stache
Here is another that is a tough one to pull off, unless your at Oktoberfest or your name is Wilford Brimley. This one is usually full and completely covers the top (and sometimes bottom) lip. Normally, the Bushy Stache doesnt reach much further than the edges of the top lip, as once it does, it loses that Bushy feel and leans more toward Handlebar.


- The Rollie Fingers
This stache is a fierce one that takes uber-dedication to the world of staches to pull off. I mean, if your buying wax and/or other product just for your mustache, you my friend, are fierce. This stache is distinct in its style where you grow the sides fairly long and take the time and effort to twirl and curl those sides into their signature shape.


- The Porn Stache
Johnny Wadd originated this one, and it has honestly taken on many different shapes and sizes in its day. Be advised though, just because a man who is "acting" in a porn film has a mustache, it doesnt mean he is rockin the Porn Stache. They are a completely different beast. The Porn Stache is often wispy and unkempt, sometimes too long in certain areas and too short in another. You can often see the skin of the upper lip through the regions of the Porn Stache, but not too much, because if you could, then it would be approaching the Cheesy or the Korean Stache.



- The Cheesy Stache
See any 12 or 13 year old boy who has yet to shave his mustache. Often confused for dirt, the Cheesy Stache is one that can not be grown or displayed. Ever. If your stache is Cheesy, then shave it. I am sorry for you, but you and your Cheesy Stache will not be permitted entry into this club of proud stachers.


- The Korean Stache
If you were to draw a cartoon or a caricature of an Asian man and you filled in his mustached with 7 or 8 generously spaced vertical lines, then you have the definition of the Korean Stache. (**This is not meant to be a slur or a put down of any kind, it is simply an observation of mine with a gross generalization for a title.) Often coupled with the Cheesy Stache in modern use.


- The Fu-Manchu
This long wispy stache is one that can be seen in almost every Kung Fu or Martial Arts flick. This is a stache that boasts sides so long that they hang down well below the face. This stache is best left to those aforemtentioned movies.

- The Two-Part Stache
Any mustache that is separated in the middle of the upper-lip by a distinct parting of the hair thanks to a bald patch. This title is often couple with other types of stache - for example, "He's rollin with a Two-Part Rollie Fingers!"


- The Magnum
This one was made famous by Tom Selleck in Magnum P.I., and it is one that is as famous as it gets. There is no doubt in my mind that Magnum would not have been a hit show at all had Tom Selleck been bare-lipped. This famous Stache is one that really needs no description, as everyone should know it by mere mention of the name. However, for those of you who dont, its part Dad-Stache and part Bushy, but it extends past the reaches of the mouth corners. Recently, Jason Lee and his character on the show "My Name is Earl" have brought back the Magnum a little, and while it isnt in the same league as Selleck's beauty, it does fit the style mold. Please note... this stache is unrivalled in its awesomeness.


- The Handlebar
Coming in a close 2nd to the Magnum is the Handlebar, and this is one that is my personal favorite (see my blogger profile pic for proof). Hulk Hogan made this one his own, and in his hey-day, you could say that his blonde Handlebar was as much his signature as his whole shirt-ripping routine, or his use of the words "Brother" or "Vitamins". The Handlebar is aptly named, as this stache is one that extends down the sides of the mouth, stopping just before the ridge of the chin or in any area reasonably close to that.



- The Paul Teutul
This is a variation of the Handlebar, where the sides of the stache extend on below the chin as far as the hair will grow. This is an extremely difficult stache to grow and maintain, so I recommend that unless your name is Paul Teutel, you leave this one alone.



- The Milk Mustache
Not really a mustache at all, but Gisele Bundchen is friggin hot.

I think I have covered them all, but I'm not entirely sure, as I am sure that many people out there have seen staches in all other shapes and sizes. If you think I have missed one or would care to argue about my categories, feel free to email me at chriszimmer@sasktel.net or leave a comment.

Now, to wrap this rambling up, I just have to say that it takes a special kind of man to grow a stache, as not everyone can pull it off. You need a certain amount of moxie to rock a stache, you need the right mix of self-confidence with a sense of self-effacing humor. Its tough to do, and that is why the list of famous stachers is so short.

If you do decide to join me in bringing back the stache, then consider yourself warned on the trials and tribulations of the stache.

Rock on good soldiers... Rock on...

Until Next Time...

One Fan's Review... "Superman Returns"

"Let's start with the big question, where'd you go?"
~ Lois Lane (Superman Returns)

One Fan's Review - "Superman Returns"

Now, recall my previous post on this subject when I rambled on about how excited I was to see this movie. Being a lifelong Superman fan, I was thoroughly giddy to see the Caped Wonder back on the big screen. So it was with great anticipation and a small slice of caution that I entered the theatre last night at 7:30pm.

First, let me just say that the theatre was friggin packed. I had to sit entirely too close to the screen, which actually lessened my viewing pleasure. Fucking people and their "these seats are saved" bullshit. I literally wanted to punch someone in the face last night.

Anyway, as the movie got underway (finally after about 28mins of commercials and previews - including one for Spiderman 3, whichs looks good) I was extremely pleased to see the old school credits and John Williams genius score being used to open the movie. I had goosebumps. Little did I know that the use of the original style credits was the beginning of an underlying theme of similarity and respect to the original Richad Donner films.

Let's break down the major pieces to this film to help me review it.

Cast:
Brandon Routh - Superman/Clark Kent
Grade: A
In a word? Fantastic. He more than filled the lofty expectations that were laid on him. In the non action sequences, his Superman was genuine and heartfelt and in the action scenes, he was superb. Superman needs to be played as straight-laced do gooder who never wavers in his position to fight for truth, justice and all that other stuff -- and Routh did that to a T. Now, was his Clark Kent simply an impression of Chris Reeve's genius role? Maybe. But what else could he do? And even if it were, it didnt take anything away from the film. And thats saying something. I really look forward to Routh reprised this role in the forthcoming sequel(s).

Kevin Spacey - Lex Luthor
Grade: A-
In a word? Wicked. You had to know that Spacey was going to bring the ruckus to this role, and it got going in the first scene, where he cons his dying "wife" into leaving him her entire fortune, and then coldly leaves the room mere seconds after she signs the will and passes away. After that he gets into Lex mode, preparing to take over the world in diabolical Lex Luthor fashion. But his best scenes come when he has the annoyed look of utter disdain on his face as he is dealing with his bumbling crew of ruffians. Also, when he and Kitty Kowalski are in scenes together, it brings back vivid memories of Hackman and Perrine (Miss Tessmacher), only Posey's Kowalski is far more sarcastic and tough. Spacey did a great job with the Luthor role, he was funny, his dialogue was razor-sharp and his hatred for Superman was pure.

Kate Bosworth - Lois Lane
Grade: C
In a word? Okay. Before I saw the film, I had heard all the critics say that Bosworth was a little too young to be believable as the tough as nails reporter -- and mother to a 5 yr old. I went in with an open mind, but to be honest, they were right. Quite simply, she looked too young. Her acting was great, but I just couldnt get past the fact that she looks about 20yrs old. Some of her dialogue was cringe-worthy, but in the majority of her scene's with Superman, there was great chemistry.

The rest of the cast shakes out like this, in my opinion:

Sam Huntington - Jimmy Olsen: A+ ; His comedy was fantastic, and his man-crush on Clark Kent was hilariously obvious.

Parker Posey - Kitty Kowalski: B+ ; The dark comedy was a good counterpoint to Lex, but the way she fell apart in the end was simply too Tessmacher-esque.

James Mardson - Richard White: B- ; In the scenes where he was trying to get Lois to talk about Superman, you could really feel his jealousy and concern that his fiancée was still in love with Superman. But in the other scenes, he was just a hollow, generic male character.

Tristan Lake Leabu - Jason White: C ; Lois' son spent most of the movie staring off into space. It was distracting almost, but the twist with him was one that I didnt see coming. As I think back on the film though, there were signs, and I applaude Singer's direction for the subtlety of those signs.

Kal Penn - Stanford: F ; I have no idea why he was even credited in this movie. He didnt have a single line of discernable dialogue and his character was so completely pointless that his death was hardly noticeable.

Special Effects / CGI:
I am not kidding when I say that the special effects and visual imagery in this film is vastly superior to anything else I have seen. The only films that comes close are the Lord of the Rings trilogy. Superman's flying scenes are spectacular, so much so that you cant really tell that its CG. I'm not kidding, the effects in this movie are amazing. It is exactly how you think it should look. I mean, if you imagine how it should look for a man to stop a plane from crashing into a baseball stadium, it should be pretty amazing right? Right... and it is. Believe me, it is.

Also, the closing scenes are excellent. If you recall how all of the previous Superman films ended - with Superman flying around the world looking around and eventually flying past the camera with that little smile on his face - well, that is precisely how this one ended. It was the final tip fo the cap to the movies that came before, and I think it was icing on the cake. Routh's flying in that scene is spot on to Reeve's, and again I have to applaude Bryan Singer to including that. Bravo.

Plot:
Okay, listen. If anyone goes into this movie expecting a deep plot with various twists and turns, then you are going to be disappointed. Seriously though, its Superman for crissakes. The plot is standard superhero fare. It lays out like this. Superhero spends time saving lives and kicking butt, arch villian starts causing trouble and kidnaps superhero's love, superhero tries to stop villian but gets hurt and you are doubting if he can do it, superhero somehow summons the strength/powers to vanquish villian and save the world, superhero is hurt during this climactic world-saving scene, villian gets away, superhero is thought dead but recovers, world rejoices. Done and done. Of course there are bumps and little twists along the way, but thats pretty much how it goes in most superhero movies. And to be honest, I would expect nothing less.

Also, please spare me the questions of logic and/or incontinuity. You have to check those parts of your brain at the door somewhat when you enter a Superman (or superhero) movie. I cant stand it when people are like "why did it take him so long to catch upto that plane if he can fly around the world in like 5 seconds?" One word loser - drama. But again I commend Singer and his staff for making a film that didnt require the movie-goer to stomach too many scenes that dont make sense (logically speaking).


The Bottom Line:
The bottom line here is that this is a fantastic summer blockbuster type film that should make oodles of money in the theatres. But amongst the dizzying action and fantastic effects lies a story of heartache, sorrow and deep emotion. Honestly, I didnt think that they could do that with a Superman film, but they did, and they did it well.

Overall this movie was extremely entertaining to watch and it has more than rejuvinated a once dead movie franchise. I'm not sure they could have done a better job of bring back the Man of Steel than they did. It's not often that I will see a movie twice in the theatre, but I will be seeing this movie again. It's that good - and I'm not just saying that because I am such a huge fan of the Man of Steel... okay maybe I am.

Final Grade: A+

Stuff I think about : Vol 3

"A bookstore is one of the only pieces of evidence we have that people are still thinking. "
~ Jerry Seinfeld

Welcome back! I think its time for me to take another stroll through the lesser-known parts of my brain and put forth another edition of the stupid crap I think about... aptly entitled "Stuff I think about: Vol 3"

And awayyy we go...

- I dont think I know a single person who, after doing #2, flushes the toilet while still sitting on it. Its best to avoid any splash up in my opinion, so the most effective method is to wipe, stand up, close the lid and flush. But where does that leave pulling one's pants up? And how are you to be sure that the flush was successful? (You see? I think about these things)

- The quality of my singing voice increases exponentially with the number of alcoholic beverages my audience has consumed. That, my friends, is a scientific fact.

- I find myself putting on weight this summer. How is that possible? Arent you supposed to be slimmer during the summer, thanks to the increased outdoor physical activity and what not? Its strange, and I was really perplexed as to why it was happening. Then I returned all of the empty beer bottles and cans to the recycle joint...

- If they slipped some ephedrin into beer, would anyone really notice? I mean, other than those with heart disease?

- How this happens I will never know, but for some reason, I have been sucked into watching the lowest of the low - for reality talent shows. "So You Think You Can Dance" (why is every word in that title capitalized?) is a show that should not interest me at all, but for some reason, I find myself watching it on the TiVo and saying ridiculously gay things like "oooh, that Paso Doble wasnt that good" or "Their lines were off there". Does this make me any less of a man? Yes. Yes it does. (Its a good think there is hot chicks on that show, or I would be in real trouble)

- Have you ever noticed the alarming similarities between people at sporting events... and cattle? Think about it for a second. We all file into an enclosed area, are led to a specific subsection of that area based on our tag (tickets), we all file to the feed trough at some point and continue to graze all game long, and when we leave we all jostle and push and crowd to get through the gates...

- I love YouTube

- This is the first of many years that a portion of my summer holidays from work will be determined by the holiday choice of the sitter who watches Paige. Am I happy about this? Not really, but it isnt the end of the world... I mean, the bottom line here is that I will not be at work... I just didnt get to choose when.

- When compiling the list of stupid things I have done in my life, the time I stole deli meat from over the counter of a Subway at 2am after drinking all night and ultimately got charged with theft for it will definitely make the list... and it will probably be somewhere near the top.

- Yes, it is sad when an insanely stupid thing like that will only be "near the top" of all the stupid things I have done in my life.

- But it is also funny.

- Why dont gophers do something productive with their lives? I mean, instead of digging holes in random farmers fields or in schoolyards, why dont they move near a potash mine or something?

- I bought some new sunglasses this past weekend. Nike's. They are pretty nice and everything, but how is it possible that a piece of molded plastic with two foldable arms is worth $119.99? I simply dont understand that. Nor do I understand how I simply paid that price without batting an eye.

- Anyone who says that winning the lottery wouldnt change them is lying... but I am willing to be a test subject...

- Has there been a better invention, with regard to improving life in an office, than the whiteboard and the dry erase marker? Sure, computers are good and everything, but have you ever tried to play pictionary using MS Paint?

On that stupid note -- I'll leave it at that for today...

Remember, I am still going to go see Superman Returns on the 28th and I plan on writing my first ever movie review on it... so be sure to come back and check that out...

Until Next Time...

Seriously... who hits a deer?

I do -- that’s who.

So I'm driving home from our softball game last night, the wife, Paige and I are cruising Northbound on Lewvan right by those ball diamonds that are just South of Regina Ave. We are casually talking about my looming trip to Edmonton this weekend, and I turned to look in the back seat to see what Paige had in her hands. Then all of a sudden -- BAM! Badaboomthumpboom! I look to the passenger side to see short haired brown flesh whip past. I gain control of the CR-V, slow it down and pull over -- all the while looking to the front corner of the passenger side to see what kind of damage there is. As I pull over I see this poor bastard of a dumbass runt idiot deer laying in the middle of the lane on Lewvan Drive. Luckily for us, Chad and Candice were following us (as we were en route to Dairy Queen for a little celebratory blizzard action) so they pull over as well.

I get out of my car to survey the damage. It is substantial in its range, but minimal in its severity. A nice touch was the large amount of deer hair caught in the plastic of the wheel well. A nice little reminder indeed. After getting our wits about us and making sure everyone is ok - Paige's eyes were as big as saucers at this point, she didn’t know what the hell was going on - we figure its best to call the Police to have them come get this deer of the Lewvan before someone else hits it, and as I am on the phone with Regina's Finest, 3 or 4 more vehicles decide to stop and view the spectacle. In my opnion, it takes a special kind of person to stop on the Lewvan to see whats going on with a half-dead deer in the middle of the road. And by special I mean odd -- in that creepy does he have human body parts in his fridge kind of way. And yes, by this time, the deer had come around and had even tried to get up and flee the scene - but when it did, its hind legs buckled like the Oilers and it continued to lay there. The Police are about to transfer me to the Dept of Highways to get ahold of a Conservation Officer, and now the crew of onlookers includes Mr. Creepy, a couple younger guys who are talking about "that’s an easy way to hunt" and another older cat. This last older dude claims to have a .22 in the hatch of his 03 Hyundai Tiburon and reportedly asked the Police if he could shoot the deer himself. Shoot the deer himself?? Who does this guy think he is - Jack Bauer?? The Police told him No - thank Christ too, because he had a wild look in his eye - and I'll be honest when I say it was the first time I had ever been afraid of anyone driving a Tiburon (HI-OH!).

Anyway, the clock keeps ticking and Mr. Creepy decided he is going to kneel beside this poor deer and pet it for some reason. I don’t know if he was a deer whisperer of some sort, or if he just had a thing for animals with numerous broken bones and serverly damaged internal organs. Now I'm a compassionate guy, but I think I would think twice before I decided to kneel down and gently stroke the side of a dying deer - IN THE MIDDLE OF EFFING LEWVAN DRIVE!

After about another 5 minutes, the deer finally lifts its head up and looks around - at me. I swear to God he knew it was me that hit him because he gave me a blank stare. I don’t know what it meant, but it was distinct in its blankness. After giving me the eye - the deer hobbles up to its feet - sorry - hooves and again tries to scamper away - across the Lewvan. If you ever thought that scene in Bambi was cute where Bambi just starts to learn to walk - well, believe me - if they ever do a scene where Bambi tries to walk after being hit by a 05 CR-V, its not cute. Its sad and a little disturbing. This poor deer's legs where crossed up like a yoga instructer as it hobbled across Lewvan (amazingly avoiding more traffic) and then it came to its final resting spot in the ditch on the far West side of Lewvan.

Well, the cops finally arrive - and the dude in the Tiburon and the loaded weapon in the back decides its time for him to take his leave, and as they survey the scene in their copl-like fashion, I calmly ask if they need me to do anything or if I can get the hell outta dodge before they take their glocks to Bambi's head. The coppers write me up an accident report for SGI purposes - apparently because blood, spit and deer hair all along the passenger side of my vehicle wouldn’t be enough to make an adjuster believe I hit a deer. As they finish up, the Conservaion Officer rolls up, at which time Mr. Creepy takes off too, leaving only myself, Chaddy and these two younger hunter-types who keep saying things like "They better put that thing down" and "Give me your sidearm, I'll do it - I probably have better aim than you anyway - ah-hyuck".

And while I was curious to see these officers in action and to see them put this poor deer down, I decided to take off -- I mean, we still had to get to Dairy Queen for our celebratory blizzard! We had to celebrate not only our ball game win - but my first kill as well!

(Oh yeah - and one more thing. A little cherry on top of this little story is that the ball diamonds that are right beside where I hit this deer - yup, they were packed with kids 12 and under. I can only imagine the horror. They were probably like - "look Mom a deer!" - then BAM… then tears... then therapy and the removal of that Bambi poster from their bedroom wall.)

I hope you enjoyed this story - as it is another tale in the classic series of "Chris Zimmer and The Worst Luck Possible" -- look for my forthcoming volume entitled "The Time I Threw Away the Winning Lottery Ticket".

signed,
Big Buck Hunter
whoneedsariflewhenyouhaveacr-v@lewvandrive.sk.ca

Being a Dad : Year 1 (Vol. 2)

First 0ff, I have to apologize for taking so long between posts... life can be hectic, and sometimes you just can find better things to do with your time than write stuff on your blog that alot of people wont read... ahh... I digress.

Anyway, let me finish up my post on what I learned during my first year of being a Dad, but this one will be quick, because I now have realized that even though I have learned alot in the past year, I still have a lot to learn.

(How many more times would you like me to use the word learn in that sentence?)

- Gone are the days of a sleek living room. Where clean lines, fashionable accessories and immaculate furniture once lay, is now the domain of various noise making toys, huge Disney Princess themed pushbehind/ridealong cars and magnetic fridge letters that - while safe to a 13 month old - can pierce the skin of a 28yr old man's foot if he steps on them in the dark at 1:30am on the way to the fridge for a late-night drink of water (that turned into a hushed profanity laden tirade / stumbling around by the light of the fride)

- I always said that I couldnt wait for Paige to start walking, and now that she is, its awesome. However, she is 10X the handful now that she can stroll around getting into things at the 3ft and below level, where she used to be relegated to items at floor level.

- Since my wife works shiftwork and starts at 6:30am, it is Dad's responsibility to take Paige to the sitter's. In my younger days, I had issues dragging my own ass out of bed and into the shower and off to work on time -- now factor in a little girl who requires twice the effort. If ever the word "gongshow" were to apply, it would be here.

- The people (I can only presume they are women) who created the Baby Einstein videos/products/books/toys are friggin geniuses. Honestly, these people(ladies) must be trillionaires by now, and for good reason. Who would have thought that a video of random colorful images, windup toys, puppets and classical music could sell for $13-16.99 and would revolutionize a generation?

- Paige is on the brink of full blown words now, and I am really looking forward to her talking (famous last words -- see above note on walking). Her current repetoire consists of "ducky", "hockey", "Daddy", "moo", "baa" and "guh" which equals golf, and while this list is wildly entertaining, it should be fun to hear her come up with some more words.

Okay -- enough for now... I am sure I will revisit this topic again and again, so I wont pour out a huge post on it right now...

later all...

Being a Dad : Year 1 (Vol. 1)

"Any man can be a father. It takes someone special to be a dad."
~Author Unknown

I dont want to get sappy or too serious in this post, as that's not what I'm about. I just want to lay out some of the things that I have learned during this past year, my first year of fatherhood -- being a Dad.

Diaclaimer -- Now remember, everything I say here is from my own admittedly sheltered and narrow point of view.

- The exact moment of my daughter's birth is one that I will never forget, just dont ask me what time it was. Isnt it funny how you think that you will never forget any detail from that moment, and yet, invariably, you do? It's not that youre a bad person, its just that time has a way of letting some things slip out of the old immediate recollection department.

- Gone are the days of handing out cigars in the waiting room. Its a good thing too, because they dont have ashtrays in those rooms. Can you imagine lighting up a cigar after your child is born? Not only is it terrible for everyone involved, but I was so wound up from nerves, caffeine and adrenaline, that I probably would have smoked an entire Monte Cristo #4 in 12 seconds... and puked immediately after that...

- I'll be honest, the child-birthing experience is one that cannot be done with any sense of humility. Your wife just has to lay it all out there, and no matter what you think, the nurses have seen it all. It is such a primal act, that you have no qualms about any of the messy details.

- There is a moment, not long after your first child is born, where you will say... "Oh my God. I'm someone's Dad." It is a moment of blinding fear, unbridled joy and piercing reality... and I loved it.

- Our prenatal class instructor told us that babies do not know how to breastfeed when they are born, they have to learn, just as the mother does. That was truly an odd statement I thought, but believe me, it is very true.

- The day you bring your child home, there is another distinct moment of reality. There is more fear and more joy, and you find yourself asking - "Okay, now what do we do?".

- Changing a girl's diaper is vastly different than changing a boy's diaper. I have 4 nephews, and I have changed their diapers in the past, but when I changed my daughter's diaper for the first time, I found myself alarmed at how much harder it is, as there are "creases" and other areas that need to remain clean. With a boy its just a swipe and a wipe and hope you dont get peed on, but with girls, you have to be a little more careful and gentle... or at least I think so...

- Before my daughter Paige was born, people used to joke and say "enjoy your sleep now". I used to shrug those comments off and think, "it cant be THAT bad". Believe me, at times, it is. Getting your baby into a solid sleeping pattern is truly a trial and error system, only it takes place at 3am, when you want nothing more than to be in your warm bed, sleeping.

- Speaking of that... The Baby Whisperer knows what she is talking about.

- Also, before I go any further, I have to say that I consider myself lucky to have the parenthood partner that I do. Lisa is an amazing mother, and without her, I'm not sure what I would do.

- It's a pretty awesome feeling to have your baby girl sleep on your chest.

- The first time your baby smiles at you, that's it, you're done. From that point forward, you will get that baby anything it wants, take it anywhere it wants, buy it whatever it wants, you will go to the ends of eternity and back... and you will do all this because of that first smile. Its tough to explain, but trust me, when you see that first thoothless grin, you'll know what I'm talking about.

- Paige's first word was "Dad". It melts my heart everytime she says it.

- Hence, I think I am going to have a hard time being a disciplinarian with Paige, I'll admit it.

- It's amazing to watch your child learn and grow. When Paige first learned to crawl, I was bursting with pride, almost as if I had something to do with it. I didnt really, but still, you feel proud...

~~

That's enough for today... I'll split this thing up into Volumes...

"No big deal... it's just a little hair..."

"Andy crawled to freedom through five-hundred yards of shit smelling foulness I can't even imagine, or maybe I just don't want to."
~ Ellis "Red" Redding : The Shawshank Redemption

Okay, admittedly the above quote may be a little dramatic for this post, but the underlying message remains, enduring foulness to get where youre going or get something done.

Now, I didnt have to smash a sewer pipe in my recent reno adventure, but I did have to endure some foul smelling foulness, and while it wasnt that funny at the time, it makes for a good story, so I gotta share it.

My wife and I are in the latter stages of renovating our bedroom and main bathroom, so we decided to lump our ensuite bathroom into the mix as well. It got a fresh coat of paint, a new wall vanity, mirror, countertop, taps and sink. Well, after a professional came in and installed the countertop, I installed the sink.

I have to say that just before I tore out the old sink, we had noticed that it was draining rather slowly, and with that bathroom being used primarily by my wife to "get ready", I was more than sure that it was just hair that was hindering the water flow.

"No big deal," I thought, "just a little hair... I'll get it out of the p-trap when I replace the sink."

Well, after getting the new taps installed and the sink all in place, I got down to solving this drain problem...

...remember what I said... "just a little hair"...

During these home renovations, I have repeatedly consulted what I like to call the "Reno Bible". Its that orange "Home Renos 1-2-3" book from Home Depot, and it has tips, hints and instructions on pretty much every aspect of home renovations. It's a really handy reference guide, and it makes for great bathroom reading... both while working on one, and sitting in one...

(I know, bad joke. Sorry about that.)

Anyway, I was reading through the tips on doing plumbing and it says things like "know when to call in a professional" and "doing a job right the first time is cheaper than having to fix it down the road"... you know, standard, "You can do it. We can help." type stuff... but there was one note that I got a kick out of, and it read something like "if you are not interesting in getting dirty or sometimes dealing with unpleasant smells or materials, then doing home plumbing probably isnt for you"... fair enough, I think. If you dont like shit, dont do shit... got it...

...but hey, I was just dealing with "a little hair" in a slow moving drain... no big deal...

Okay, I dont know how many of you have ever opened a p-trap before, but for those that havent, it is not a pleasant experience. When you send stuff down the drain, it's gone. Out of sight, out of mind. But man, some of the stuff that remains in those pipes is not nice.

So, I sit down in front of this p-trap with my tools and my bucket, and I am about to unscrew the nut at the bottom of the p-trap, you know, the one they put there so you can get into the trap to work on clogs, or if you drop your diamond ring down there, and my wife says to me, "Oh yeah, I dropped a barrette down the drain a while ago".

Nice, so I'm now positive that this barrette is causing the slowness. No big deal. A wedged barrette and "a little hair".

So I unscrew the nut at the bottom of the trap and instantly this blackish water flows out, followed by a thick midnight black liquid that looks like ink... followed by the most disgusting smell that has ever graced my olfactory senses...

I almost hurled.

Never before have I been close to wretching from a foul odor, I mean, cripes, I'm a guy! But this *odor* was so intensely sour that it brought me to the brink.

Think rotten eggs covered in mouldy sour cream, sitting in a pile of warm, composting stinkweed leaves nestled in a bed of shit-covered burnt hair.

You think I'm kidding.

Anyway, I gotta get back to work... so, after blinking the tears from my now burning eyes, and fighting back the urge to vomit. I reach my fingers into the bottom of the p-trap, and I instantly pull out the barrette. It falls into the bucket with a harmless *splish*. But there was no hair caught in it.

I look closer and I see a few hairs hanging out of the bottom of the trap, so I reach in and pull on them...

... the image that followed will haunt my dreams for years ...

Suddenly, out of the bottom of the trap slithers this pitch-black snake of hair that was as thick around as the pipe... yes ladies and gents, it was a 1-1/4" thick hairball that was about 6" long... It looked like a really big burnt hot-dog... and man did it stink! *gag*

Amazingly, amidst all this, my wife Lisa remained at the bathroom door to watch the ordeal, and we both shared a collective "Oh. My. God." when that hair snake slopped out of that pipe. Looking back, it was actually quite funny. I would have liked to had a camera set up.

After running some water to clear out some more of the debris, I put things back together and cleaned up. I was about to take this bucket of foulness outside to dispose of it when Lisa said, "let's take a picture"... great idea...

So here it is people, in all its gory glory...

Yuck... But hey it made for a good story, and at least the drain works properly now...

***Tangent Alert***
Before I end this rambling post, I gotta ask -- How is it possible that women can lose that much hair and still have these full flowing manes of beautiful locks? I mean, that hairball was approx 3 times the TOTAL amount of hair I have on my head, and it somehow managed to fall out of my wife's head (and who knows, maybe the previous owner's wife's head too). I dont get it. If that much hair fell out of my head, I'd be right between Michael Chiklis and Howie Mandel on the baldness scale. Crazy...

Anyway, enough for today... have a good weekend... and hey, if you want to save this picture I have posted and use it for your wallpaper or something, feel free... I shouldnt be the only one haunted by it...

Stuff I think about : Vol 2

"Under certain circumstances, profanity provides a relief denied even to prayer."
~Mark Twain

Hey all... sorry for not posting for so long... I was mired in home renovations, so let's just say that my creative powers were a little drained...

anyway, time for another post on all the crap I think about... and this one contains a few cusses... so reader beware...

~~~

Alright... I admit it... I watch the show "Dancing with the Stars"... but I have to tell you this... I watch that show for only two reasons... Stacy Keibler, and her legs -- that's her on the right... (okay, thats actually three reasons, but whatever... have you SEEN this chick? Oh man... and also, all the ladies on that show are ridiculously hot... you should watch... but dont tell anyone)


How long until Ryan Seacrest gets punched in the face by an angry, teary-eyed American Idol wannabe? I can totally see some Alicia Keys or Ashante clone pouring herself out of the audition room after Cowell has just berated her for being "apalling" or "ghastly", and suddenly hauling off a clocking Seacrest in the beak. "Seacrest out" indeed...

Why does everything that is so bad for me, taste so damn good? It's really not fair...

Being that I'm Canadian, I presume that the rest of the English speaking world thinks I speak with an accent (leave the "eh?" references alone too). Well, I am here to say that everytime I speak to an American on the phone (I talked to a guy from Atlanta this afternoon), I cant help but notice that American's end almost everyone of their sentences in an upward tone. It sounds like every sentence is a question... its really weird...

Is there a job where all you get to do is plan stuff? I mean, there are event planners, wedding planners and even financial planners, so why cant there be a "social planner"? I think I am going to start a consulting firm (named Paloozas Incorporated) where I will plan any social event you want. Be it themed house party (Murder Mystery, etc), be it sporting event, be it workplace moral boosting event... but we would specialize in bachelor party planning... I'm telling you, its a freakin goldmine... maybe I'll get some business cards printed up...

I'm a huge sports fan, in fact, I used to write for a couple of internet sports sites a couple of years back, so when it comes to the Super Bowl, I am in the know... and here's what I know... that game was atrocious... A buddy of mine asked who I thought would win the game, and I replied, "No one is going to win the game, but one of the teams will lose it". If you need clarification on that, then you must be female or you went and saw "Brokeback Mountain" on opening night. (What it means is that one of the teams is going to shit the bed and allow the other team to sneak out of there with a win, an unconvincing, almost lucky win... which, more or less, is what happened)

You know whats funny? I went out for lunch with two buddies of mine, and they also brought along their boss. Their boss is a super cool guy who is very laid back, but, the fact remains that he is their boss. So, my one buddy only recently got hired at this company, and when we were out for lunch, I turned to him and said, "So, hows the new digs?", meaning hows the new job. Naturally, he said that it was awesome, which he would have said even if his boss wasnt there. But I got to thinking after lunch and I figure that that situation might have been a little uncomfortable at that table for everyone but me. I mean, what is he going to say? "It's ok." Not with his boss present... anyway, it was mildly amusing...

"Lost" is easily the best show on television. Those people who are fans of "24" or any of the HBO dramas need to tune into ABC on Wednesdays... seriously, it is amazing...

Poker update -- I'm hosting poker at my house again this month, as we had a situation with the current host's availability. It should be a good time for all, but it will be even better if I manage to play okay like I did last time... of course, now that I have typed this, I will promptly lose out first in every game...

I have another hockey game coming up too. The IT Nerds one wasnt enough, so I planned another one for all of my other buddies... it should be just as entertaining. (see what I mean about the Social Planner? Poker nights, hockey games... goldmine!)

I am looking forward to the Grammy's...

No I'm not... I just thought I would type that to see what it looked like in print... I hate the Grammy's... music is about individual artistic expression, and yet, on this one night, somehow all these non-conformist artistic types dress up in their black-tie's and... well, conform... hyprocrisy at its finest...

Is there anything more awkward than seeing someone ramble on during a thank you speech during an awards show? I mean, you should have an internal clock, much like a quarterback does, after 15 0r 20 seconds, that pocket is gonna close in and youre gonna be in trouble... so, any moron would to his/her best to avoid the passrush, which = the band starts playing you off the stage, to avoid looking like an idiot... dont you think? And when people start talking louder and try to overpower the band, then a producer needs to just cut the mike... its better for all parties involved...

I heard on the radio today that being gay is now cool. What the fuck? Shouldnt all gay people be in an outrage right now? I mean, when being gay was taboo, and those who were openly gay were chastised, werent all gay people in an outrage to be treated equally? Now that its suddenly cool to be gay, shouldnt gay people be voicing themselves to be treated not as a fad, and to not be patronized or objectified like that? I dunno... I'm not gay so I cant really say anything... I just think its weird that it is now cool to have a certain sexual preference...

Speaking of gay and cool... would Brokeback Mountain be getting as much attention if it were about a male and a female cowboy who shared a forbidden love affair? Everyone claims that its about the love story, and its not about the homosexuality in the movie, but I say bullshit... if that movie starred Heath Ledger and Maggie Gyllenhall, it wouldnt have even made Ebert and Roeper, let alone the Oscars...

Apparently I'm feeling opinionated today... hey, if I pissed you off with any of this, feel free to email me here: zim@thezims.ca

And on that note, I think I will end this post for today...

Until Next Time...

What a difference 5 years makes...

"Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter."
~Mark Twain

Man... today we got new photo ID cards for work, as our organization is changing and we require the necessary identification. We had to hand in our old ID cards and exchange them for these newly taken beauties.

So, when I got my new one, I took a moment to compare the two photos. My old one was taken 5 years ago, when I first started at my current place of employment. My new one was taken just before Christmas.

I looked at the old.

I looked at the new.

I looked back at the old.

Back at the new. My God. I look a whole lot different than I did 5 years ago.

5 years ago I was not married, I had no kids, I lived at home with my parents, I had no money, I drove a crappy 1/4 tonne truck.

Today I am married, I have a baby girl, I own a home, I have money, I have a brand new vehicle.

I guess a vastly different lifestyle can lead to a vastly different picture. One thing that was obvious to me was that I have less hair... thank you gene pool... another is that I am actually slimmer in this current photo than I was 5 years ago. Slimmer in the jowel/double-chin area, but my shoulders appear to be bigger...

...maybe its all those gamma rays...

It's funny to see my old photo, as I am decked out in a then fashionable shirt and tie combo, which just reeks of ambitious newcomer doing his best to look and act like a professional. In my new one, I am wearing a collar-less shirt, my half-smile and body language is that of a been there done that scene it all veteran.

Funny how things change in as little time as 5 years.

Anyway, here are the aforementioned photos for you to see, and in an ongoin effort to avoid identity theft, I have removed any personal information... so if you're out there trying to steal my identity, dont bother... go after another identity, someone more exciting... and with more hair...

Wow...

<-- 2001 2006 -->

It is astonishing to me how different I think I look. I just hope that another 5 years down the road when we do this again, I dont end up looking like Gollum or George Hamilton or something...

I hope I continue to age (relatively) gracefully. But who knows, add in another kid here and there, a little more (or less) stress, and I could look vastly different.

Anyone know where I can buy some good age-defying, wrinkle-reducing facial cream?


Until Next Time...

Loverboy had it right...

"Everybody's working for the weekend... everybody wants a little romance
Everybody's goin' off the deep end... everybody needs a second chance"
~Loverboy : Terrible 80s band

Ahh, the weekend... while it is still a couple of days away, I still find myself looking forward to this weekend with unmitigated joy... I have a fairly busy weekend planned, and I cant wait for it to arrive...

you see, Friday is my EDO, which equals Earned Day Off... my workplace gives us every other Friday off as our EDOs, and let me tell you, it is a very welcome day off. Do I earn it? Well, for the most part yes...

So I will be off on Friday, free to do whatever I like... which will be getting up early with my daughter, playing with her all morning until she goes for a nap, then maybe reading a book or watching some tv...

bottom line? relaxing... chillaxing even...

By the way, what the f*uck is with the word chillax? I realize that it is firmly entrenched in the popular 20something vernacular, and it is supposed to be a cool way of saying chill and relax all at once... but seriously, that is the stupidest effing word in the league... chillax... gimme a friggin break...

anyway, I digress...

Friday will be a day of rest, possibly some errand-running, maybe even some online poker or xbox if I can... for the most part though, I will be doing my best to make it easy for my wife, as she has graciously allowed me to partake in all activities this weekend...

what a woman...

Friday night is the big workplace hockey game 1.0, and from 9-10pm I will be doing my best to not look like a complete idiot on ice... fat chance... that will probably be followed by a beer or two... which always helps to ease a bruised talibone... and ego...

Saturday is another big day, as it will be just Dad and Paige. My wife Lisa will be accompanying (how in the eff do you spell that word?) both of her brother's girlfriends and some other ladies on a day long wedding dress shopping extravaganza... apparently this is fun for women...

So while Mom is away with the girls doing girl stuff, Dad and Paige will be hangin out... and that is always a blast...

Paige is then set for a visit/sleepover at Grandma and Grandpa's place on Saturday night, as Dad is going to embarass himself at poker and Mom is going out with the girls to a bar to do girl stuff...

Poker... yes poker... the game that has rattled my confidence of late... (see this post for proof) Poker night is looming and the trashtalk is flying around like crazy. Gary Payton was even like "damn, thats a lotta smack". I have no retorts, no comebacks, no defense against such slander... I can only try to bring it on Saturday night...

Wish me friggin luck...

Regardless of how the poker games go, I will still have a good time... I always do... Beers+Cards+Eats always = good times... this is a mathematical constant...

Sunday will roll around and I have a basketball game to play at 10:30... so hopefully the effects of the beers the night before wont be too strong, as this is a big game for my team, and I need to be in good form to help us win... maybe I should break out some new kicks for the game, that always seems to help...

After my hoops game its home I go where the NFL Conference Championships await. Now, I dont really care for any of the teams playing, but I am very interested in the Denver / Pittsburgh game, as that should be a classic. Outdoors, in Denver, two cold weather teams, Jake Plummer's beard... should be awesome...

So all in all it should be a great weekend... if everything goes as planned I should be able to report in on Monday or Tuesday with happy news...

if not, well, you'll have to suffer through another negative, poor me, I hate poker, jeezus I suck type of post...

...but you've seen those before...


Until Next Time...

Me and my shoe obsession...

"These are my new shoes. They're good shoes. They won't make you rich like me, they won't make you rebound like me, they definitely won't make you handsome like me. They'll only make you have shoes like me. That's it."
~ Charles Barkley

In my “Stuff I Think About: Vol 1” post, I wrote the following line:

“I have an unhealthy compulsion for shoes. There I said it.”

I think I had better expand on that comment a little, if nothing else, to avoid being painted with a broad brush that colors me a couple shades of gay. That was a blanket statement regarding shoes… and yes, I realize that shoes, fashion, et al is normally a woman’s or gay man’s domain.

I’ll leave the fashion and all that to them… but shoes, I got something for shoes. I can’t quite explain it.

I like new shoes. I like shoe boxes. I like basketball shoes. I like dress shoes. I like casual shoes. I like running shoes. I like hiking/outdoor shoes.

If it was up to me, and I was independently wealthy, I would have a closet full of shoes. Who knows, one day, maybe I will.

Is that a compulsion? Some would say so… and by some, I mean psychiatrists… and my wife.

In my current active collection of footwear I have the following:

- 6 pairs of basketball shoes (Nike Huarache 2k5, Air Jordan XX Low, Air Jordan XII Low, Nike LeBron 1.5 Low, Adidas T-Mac 1, Adidas Superstar Low)
- 2 pairs of cleats (football, baseball)
- 3 pairs of running/cross training shoes (Nike, Adidas)
- 1 pair of golf shoes (Nike)
- 3 pairs of brown dress shoes
- 2 pairs of black dress shoes
- 1 pair of outdoor/hiking shoes (Nike ACG)

Now… I don’t think that I have a lot of shoes… but when I look at that list, it makes me think that I might have a bit of a problem. I mean, what red-blooded 28yr old man has 18 pairs of shoes? What kind of man has twice as many pairs of shoes as his wife does? Jeezus… does this look and sound as bad as I think it does? (I sure hope not)

Now, if I were a professional athlete, a movie star, a rich dude or a gay man I could see it… but I’m just a regular guy… a regular guy with a thing for shoes I guess.

Compulsion defined reads as: “An irresistible impulse to act, regardless of the rationality of the motivation”. Now, I don’t know if I have a full blown compulsion for new shoes, as I am able to resist the urge to buy new shoes every time I am shopping.

Almost.

Let me also say, in my own defense, that the reason I have so many pairs of shoes, basketball shoes, in particular, is out of necessity. I play basketball about 4-5 times per week, so my shoes tend to take a beating. It doesn’t matter how much they cost or who endorses them, playing that often in them, will have them looking like terrible and feeling worse. So, I need to rotate my shoes, in order to keep them in decent shape.

(Note that I didn’t say anything about wearing them for a long time. I only want to ensure that they remain looking new, because once they start looking old, they are removed from the rotation.)

Is blatant denial a symptom of mental unrest?

Don’t answer that.

***

Now, I don’t want to lie on the proverbial leather couch here, but I think I can pinpoint where it all started for me. You see, when I was younger, in elementary school to be exact, your coolness was measured by how well you dressed. That’s the way it was. Don’t ask me why.

All I know is that if you were lucky enough to be able to sport a Mexx t-shirt and some Ikeda jeans, then you were well on your way to being cool. But those alone didn’t make the grade. Oh no, you needed some fly sneaks on your feet in order to fit the bill. You needed the whole package.

It’s stupid I know. But that’s the way it was.

The worst part is that your shoes, or rather, the price or brand name of your shoes, also translated how good of a basketball player (or athlete) you were. If you were rockin’ the latest Jordan’s, or the infamous Dee Brown Reebok Pumps, then you were the friggin man.

If you didn’t have such flashy footwear? Well then, you were just a guy who was friends with a guy who wears Jordan’s or Pumps.

So I guess that is where it all started for me. I felt compelled to beg and plead my parents to buy me a pair of Reebok Pumps, for no other reason than I wanted to be cool, and I wanted people to think I could play ball.

Thankfully, that insane reasoning fell by the wayside as I grew older, and I no longer felt that I needed to have the latest and greatest sneaks to be viewed as a baller. The need was gone, but for some reason, the infatuation remained.

Why? I have no idea.

All I can tell you is that I love to go play ball and bust out a new pair of kicks, if they’re straight outta the box, even better.

The advent of eBay has made my life a whole lot easier on the shoe front, as at any given time, there are no less than 3500 auctions going on involving Jordan Brand shoes. So obtaining a pair of my all time favorite sneakers is no longer a difficult undertaking.

Call me crazy, call me immature, call me stupid. I don’t care. It’s just me.

Me and my obsession with shoes.

Until Next Time...

Stuff I think about : Vol 1

It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.
~ Mark Twain

(Fitting quote, don't you think?)

Once in a while, I have these random thoughts that pop into my head... they have no rhyme or reason... but I need to get them out there... so here they are... I don't know what to call these, as similar versions of the same idea are out there (thank you Bill Simmons), so we'll just call them "Stuff I think about"...

And away we go...

Ever try to make it through a game of Scrabble without having to resort to using a three letter word? It's damn near impossible... besides, getting 15pts out of PIT (triple word score) is just as impressive (if not more) as getting 5 out of NOISE.

Mitch Hedberg died too soon.

I think there is something about drinking beer out of a clear bottle that I like. I do not prefer Miller Genuine Draft any more than I do Coors Light or Alex Keith's, but if I had to choose one of the three products (in a bottle, on tap is a different story), I would go with the MGD... no real reason...

I wish I knew how to play the guitar.

I'm tired of Ron Artest.

"Seacrest Out!" is possibly the gayest thing since... well, Ryan Seacrest.

I get genuinely pissed off when I see my fantasy players/team perform poorly. I know I'm not the only one who is this way. Honestly, if I saw Marcus Camby or Terrell Owens on the street right now, I would curse them out for ruining my fantasy teams.

No I wouldn't.

I'd probably gush and ask for their autograph and a picture.

If I don't make a hole in one in my lifetime, I wont be disappointed... I just want to play enough golf to have a chance.

I think the creators of the board game "Scene It?" are geniuses. No other game blends the board game aspect, technology and laziness quite like "Scene It?". What other game do you get to use a remote to be prompted for a question?

Speaking of board games, I think that most every trivia game out there is some bastardized version of Trivial Pursuit. Do you think the people at Trivial Pursuit are flattered by that? Me either...

I have an unhealthy compulsion for shoes. There I said it.

A friend of mine (a fellow member of my monthly poker game) got a kick out of my post on how bad I apparently am at poker. I didn't share the humor. The worst part is, I had no come-back. My only hope is to win. Soon. And often.

I saw Phil Gordon in a televised poker tournament, it was weird to see him play after watching him try to be cool as the "color man" for all the celebrity poker tournaments. I had a hard time taking him seriously.

Basketball is the one sport that is the most difficult to make a video game out of. Even with all of today's technology, every hoops game out there looks terrible. Why is it that Gollum and King Kong can look so friggin real, but they cant make a cross-over dribble look right?

"The Aviator" is one of those movies that is bad enough for me to say that its bad, but its just good enough to keep me from turning it off.

There are two movies that get me everytime. By that I mean that everytime I stumble across them while channel-surfing, I have to immediately put down the remote and watch the rest of it, no matter how far into the movie it is. One is "A Few Good Men", the other is "Superman : the Motion Picture".

Alton Brown needs more publicity. He's a culinary genius, as is his Food Network show "Good Eats".

I wish Saturday Night Live would do a season like Survivor did with their "All-Stars" from seasons past. Imagine skits with the comedy stylings of Eddie Murphy in his prime coupled with the late John Belushi, followed by Will Ferrell and Chevy Chase. That would be good times.

I don't think Jimmy Fallon would make the cut. But his "Barry Gibb Talk Show" skit was the funniest one I have seen in a long time.

Neither would Dana Carvey... c'mon, admit it... anybody could have played Garth.

Is there a more uncomfortable situation than trying to have a technical conversation with someone who has a severe stuttering problem? I know he stutters, he knows he stutters... and yet, I feel terribly awkward.

What happened to the stubble-beard? The Western movies made it famous, Don Johnson brought it to icon status, and then it went away... what happened?

How long will it be until soap operas resort to showing full frontal nudity? I don't watch them, but don't they have the perfect names for it? Passions, Young and the Restless, the Bold and the Beautiful, Days of Our Lives... any would work. All My Children? Not so much...

I wish I had a famous younger/older sibling. If Ashley Simpson can do it, anyone can.

Well, that's enough for today... so until next time... Seacrest Out!

The Obligatory New Years Post...

"An optimist stays up until midnight to see the New Year in. A pessimist stays up to make sure the old year leaves."
~ Bill Vaughn

As 05 draws to a close and we enter the latter half of the first decade of this new century, I feel inclined, if not, obliged to say sayonara to 2005 and give thanks for one of the best years of my life...

I know, its truly an original idea isnt it? I'm sure that more than half of the blogs on this site have some version of the same idea... but hey, I'm a conformist, and I'll readily admit that...

Anyway, thanks 2005... thanks for:

-- The arrival of my first child, a beautiful, healthy baby girl we named Paige Mackenzie. Becoming a parent is everything I ever thought and hoped it would be, and I honestly have never been happier than I am right now.

-- The renewed strength of my marriage to the love of my life, my wife Lisa. Having children can put a strain on a marriage, as there is less time for each other and you cant just jet off to get away from it all. Well, luckily for me, I have a beautiful wife who is an amazing mother and parter, and yet she still manages to keep the fires burning for her hubby. Our marriage is stronger than ever and I love her more today than I ever have.

-- My family and friends. I count myself lucky to have such a wonderful group of friends and a fantastic family that gets along so well.

-- My job. After 4+ years of "paying my dues" as I like to call it, I finally secured a position that I truly love. It's not so much work when you enjoy coming in each morning...

-- My health. Need I say more?

anyway... enough sappy stuff...

As I roll into 06, I think I should probably drink less, eat better, exercise more, save more money, etc, etc, etc... and while I will make an honest effort to stick to those default resolutions (except the drinking part)... I'll be surprised if any of them make it to February...

Happy New Year everyone...

Crazy rich... or rich crazy?

"A rich man is nothing but a poor man with money. "
~W. C. Fields

Most people I know are your average everyday regular working class individuals... I don't know anyone who is rich. Now, I'm not talking about people who have nice stuff and who make good money at their jobs, I'm talkin about people who are crazy rich... so rich that they wont ever know what it will be like to not be able to afford something. That kind of rich... so I have no baseline, or experience from which to draw any conclusions on rich people, but I have seen several episodes of MTV Cribs... so that should be enough...

And I'm not talking about being wealthy... I'm talking about being rich... there is a difference... for a full explanation, see Chris Rock's standup routine...

Anyway, what would you do if you were suddenly rich beyond your wildest dreams? I'm talking lottery winnings rich... anywhere from 25-50 million big ones... what would you do?

Well, we have all had these conversations amongst our friends before... you know, how everyone goes around and says what they would do... things like:

-Pay off all my bills
-Quit my job
-Buy my mom/family a house/car
-Travel
-Invest x amount and live off the interest
-Take my family/friends on a trip
-Buy a huge house / fancy car
-Move
-etc

You get the gist of it...

But I wonder, how could you not instantly go crazy from having all that money? I mean, the sudden change in everything you know would be mind-blowing to say the least... it could make your skull plates shift like you had the San Andreas fault running down the center of your skull... just imagine for a second not having to work another day in your life and never having to want for anything ever again...

Your head hurt? Mine too...

I honestly think that riches could drive a person crazy... the paranoia of who wants what from you, the fear of losing everything you have, the worry over your new-found (and rather considerable) responsibility... yikes... and I haven't even mentioned media coverage/scrutiny... I don't care how "normal" you are or were before you got paid... being rich can drive a person crazy...

... or maybe ...

Maybe being rich just brings out the craziness in a person? Yeah, that's more like it... I think maybe that being rich pushes those more admirable personality traits, such as humility or respect, to the background and makes way for glaring egotism and greed...

Case in point? This man... Ron Artest... now he may have had some "issues" when he was younger... but you cant tell me that when he got rich (and famous - but thats a whole other topic), that his craziness didn't shove its way to the forefront of his personality.

Money, fame, an agent, personal assistants, a posse, people to handle his money, his public relations, his "music career" and never having to want for anything definitely let his insanity bust through that once humble and quiet persona... its sad...

At first, I thought that Artest was the benchmark for athlete/rich person craziness... until I remembered this man...

Terrell Owens... The Mayor of Crazytown...

If you read Owens' biography, you will read about a shy, awkward boy who was raised by his very religious Grandmother. Owens was uncomfortable around girls, didn't know how to dance, never said much. His introverted shyness drove him to pour himself into sports, where he excelled.

Yada yada yada... the rest is history...

He is now arguably the most dominant receiver in the NFL, but he isn't playing right now. Why? Because he is all kinds of crazy. The only thing that runs faster than he does is his mouth, which never seems to stop moving and spewing out such insanity that even Barry Bonds is like "damn, he's crazy..."

Anyway... I digress...

Getting back on point, I don't think that anyone I know would go crazy if they suddenly got rich... but what the hell do I know? Maybe they would...

But I can tell you this, if they did, I would be the first to tell them... "Naw man... you aint crazy... umm... can I roll with you in your Mercedes S-Class?"

Hey, I'm no dummy...

A Grinch-sized revelation?

And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.
~ Dr. Seuss

Now, I am no Grinch... as you can probably tell from my post on Christmas tunes , but I think that quote reflects, for me personally, how Christmas can take on a different meaning... even when you think you know what to expect...

I have always loved the holiday season, and Christmas in particular, as you get to enjoy family, food and drink in any amounts you want... oh yeah, and you get some time off work too.

So for me, last year got me really into things, as my wife (6 months pregnant at the time) and I hosted our first Christmas supper for her family and mine, and thankfully, the turkey and everything went off without a hitch...

... and as my wife sat there with her pregnant belly, surrounded by our families, I thought to myself, "man, next year is gonna be different..."

Boy was I right...

With the arrival of our first child, a beautiful baby girl we named Paige, things instantly got a whole lot different. But now as we approach Christmas, and Paige approaches 9 months old, I find myself rediscovering Christmas all over again...

Now, even though Paige is still too young to really grasp the whole concept of Christmas, she still knows that things are different around the house. Gone are the plain, lifeless walls of our home, and here are the twinkly bright lights of Christmas. Shiny wrapping paper lies at her level of play, and pine needles are easily spotted from down on the carpet, which is, her domain... and her's alone...

In fact, here's a pic of Paige running the show on the carpet...

Anyway, like I said earlier, I find myself rediscovering Christmas again this year, and I have that beautiful little girl to thank for it...

I find myself looking forward to Christmas and not for myself... not to see what lies beneath the tree with my name on it... not to get the much needed break from the office... not even for all the food...

Instead I find myself eagerly awaiting Christmas Eve and Day to share it with my family... I cant wait to head over to my in-laws place for our annual Christmas Eve gathering (full of great food, great company, card games and Christmas cheer)... I cant wait to get up on Christmas morning and watch Paige tear open her gifts... I cant wait to see her play with her new toys... I cant wait for my wife to open the gift I got her that is from Paige... I cant wait to see what Paige has gotten me... I cant wait for my family to come over supper and for them to be able to share it with Paige...

I never thought I would feel this way about Christmas... I often thought about my first Christmas as a parent, and I knew it would be different and exciting, but I never knew how much it would be... suddenly, it is totally not about me and it is all about that little girl and my family... I can only imagine how much fun it is going to be when she can actually grasp the whole Santa business...

So I guess this Christmas, and how it has changed for me isn't as drastic as how it did for Mean Old Mr. Grinch, but the underlying message remains the same...

"What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more. "

I wonder...

After eating Chinese buffet for lunch the other day, I thought to myself, "Is this really Chinese food?"

The answer? A resounding "sort of"...

I am pretty sure that the Chinese food I dined on is vastly different than anything I would actually find in China... now, I dont profess to be a culinary expert, but I can still make that statement with a fair bit of assurance. I mean, the buffet consisted of the following:

ginger beef
sweet and sour pork
chicken fried rice
deep fried boneless dry ribs
deep fried spicy chicken legs
deep fried chicken legs
mixed vegetables
some noodle dish

Is that Chinese? Not sure... I guess its classified more as "Western Hemisphere Chinese Food"... regardless, its still damn tasty...

Once more thing I wondered about... when the staff of said Chinese restaurant shuts down for the day and heads home, what do you think they eat? Do they eat Chinese food? Or in their case, food? I mean, numerous friends of mine who worked in various food establishments have always said that they never ate the food or type of food they prepared each day... they just got sick of it... so, do you think that people who own and run a Chinese food restaurant order pizza or go out for steak or a burger and some fries when they are done for the day?

Who knows...

I love Christmas tunes... or do I?

Christmas time is upon us... obviously, and as I sit here with iTunes shuffling some various Christmas tunes for me, I got to wondering...

When an artist/band decides to record a Christmas album, is that a good thing or bad thing in terms of their career and their success?

Okay, the obvious take here would be that it is a good thing, for no other reason than the artist is still actually recording, which means some label is still taking the time to sign this act and produce their stuff. But really, is it that good?

The other side is that it means one's career is on the slide, that its a vain attempt to regain fans and or exposure. I mean, there are a lot of Christmas albums out there, so, even if youre a band on the downside of your success, recording a Christmas album can do nothing but good for your rep, because Christmas tunes are like clubhouse sandwiches... they are very hard to screw up.

Myself, I think the answer lies somewhere in the middle of that equation. I mean, unless you are a pop band who can churn out all sorts of crap and teens will eat it up even if you were secretly pulling a Juda Priest on them, then I think it is a questionable move in terms of how you are viewed. But at the same time, if youre a legendary (= old) singer who still has fans of all ages, then putting out some Christmas tunes for all to enjoy can actually be a shot in the arm to a career in need of circulation. I mean, the number of good Christmas songs out there are very few, if you want to avoid the whole ultra-religious side of things... so its really a foolproof idea, as everyone will instantly know every word to each song on your album.

Now dont get me wrong, I love Christmas music... I just wonder sometimes what would bring artists to record Christmas tunes... I mean, I can see N'Sync doing it, just because their marketing scheme was to put out as many songs/pictures/articles of themselves as they possibly could while they were popular until people figured out that they all sucked (cept, JT's got skills... he's the modern day Michael Jackson -- only without the freakiness and abusive childhood memories). But what about Mariah Carey? She did a Christmas album in the 90s, and it's pretty good... but what drove her to do so? Sheer love of the holiday season? Not sure...

What about Neil Diamond? John Lennon? Frank Sinatra? Elvis? They have all made some very memorable Christmas music over the years, but at what point in their careers did they decide to make that move? And why? Who knows... but Elvis did record some as young Elvis (who could do no wrong) and as fat old Elvis (who needed the work)... so I guess he would be the ideal litmus test for this question, as he recorded Christmas albums at both points in his career... I guess we'll never know...

One more thing about Christmas music that gets me is that it seems that Christmas music and the National Anthem have become the two music styles that are open to any type of artistic impression. I mean, you see people take all sort of artistic liberties with the National Anthem (see R. Kelly) and the same is true for Christmas tunes (listen to O Holy Night by three different artists and you'll see what I mean)... my question is, how did that come to be? I mean, shouldnt a manager tell someone not to eff with a good thing? Who knows... I'm not a singer or a producer... I'm just a listener... but I can tell you that when I see some random act of the week taking on the National Anthem with numerous runs and lengthy notes, it makes me sick... but on the flip side, when I see someone like BabyFace or Boyz II Men do their take on White Christmas or Let it Snow, I find it refreshing and enjoyable... odd...

anyway... enough for today... back later with thoughts on Chinese food...