And the Winner…

Of the Canadian I’d least like to be stuck in an elevator with in 1988 is.

I know that’s a pretty specific category, but this is one award that has been well and truly earned. I was watching, thanks to Netflix and the WWE, the very first Royal Rumble, which took place in 1988 in Ontario, Canada. During the first match "Ravishing" Rick Rude vs. Ricky "The Dragon" Steamboat there was a woman, at least in her mid-thirties, sitting in the front row with a cartoon character T-shirt (I couldn’t make out which character), and that baseball cap with the two hands sticking ridiculously out the front and a string hanging down that causes the hands to clap if it is pulled. If this ridiculous get-up is not enough to qualify her, she also had a mega-phone. It was not the rap-master 2000, so no one thought she was Hammer. She used it from the start of the match t shout random cheers, or whatever it was she was thinking at the time, loud enough to be picked up by the mics.

I like to think the following conversation took place on the way out the door that afternoon.

"Boy, you got my Leaf hat?"
"No, Ma, I ain’t. Alls I got is this here hat with hands clapping on it. You want that one, eh?"
"You knob! How’m I s’posed to go to the wrastlin’ match without my Leafs hat? Give me the damn clapping hands hat. It’s better than nothin’ and if we end up on TV I want to look my best."
"OK, fine. You ready to go then?"
"Not until I get my megaphone. That Rick Rude thinks he so hot. I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind."
"Eh"

The best part of the whole thing is Event Security came down to her about 10 minutes into the match (all of this happened off camera, but if you watched any of this, you knew it was coming) and took her megaphone away from her. The next time you see her on camera she’s sitting there, with her hands in her lap, looking very sad.

I was reminded of this while I was watching the last five minutes of one of the NBA playoff games that was pretty much locked up. They took a shot of the one guy left in his section who was rooting for the home team. You could easily determine his affiliation by looking at the Raptors jersey he was wearing, or if you missed that, the fact that his face was painted his team’s colors and he was wearing a matching wig.

I have no problem with the face painting fan. And what I’m about to say actually comes from experience as I painted my face in a blue and white spiral emanating from my nose (which did little to deemphasize it) for the 1993 Class 2A Football Championship. After we lost the game, and brother it wasn’t close, I had to go back into the bathroom and wash all of that paint off. There is nothing sadder than the guy who was so excited before the game started that he spent at least 30 minutes in front of the mirror applying make-up standing there, pissed off washing all of that hope right off his face. As if losing wasn’t bad enough, you now have to physically remove your excitement.

The sadness that guy feels, and if he’s a Kentucky fan he deserves it, is nothing compared to the "worst Canadian of 1988" felt after her megaphone was taken away.

Here’s what I did Saturday night

Slot Machines + Roulette + craps + lots of smoking Midwesterners = Casino

You know what’s missing in that equation? Poker Room. You want to know how I know that? Well I drove to two of them last night. One in Elgin. One in Joliet. One guess why I was trying to go there. That’s right. To play poker. I drove out to Elgin last night as it was the closest casino to my house. No poker room. So, I went back to the car, put the address of the one in Joliet into my GPS and got back on the road.

After sitting through the flaming-car-induced parking lot that was I-55 I finally got to Harrah’s in Joliet only to discover that my entire night, just about 3 hours of driving at this point, was all nothing. No poker room there either.

Here’s the part where I should have called ahead to ask, and I am well aware of my part in the way this evening played out, but hamburgers! How do you have a casino with no poker room? When I finally got home, I looked on these websites, and none of them say anything about poker, one way or another. To my mind the flashing banner across the top of each of these websites should read WE DON’T HAVE A POKER ROOM!!!!!!!!

Through this painful experience, I did learn of three different casinos in the area that do have poker rooms, so this little episode will not have a sequel, but sweet holy god was that frustrating.

A 90 minute cautionary tale

On Tuesday I watched Beer League starring Artie Lange who is currently making the Howard Stern show on Sirius must listen radio, and almost, by itself justifies the purchase of Sirius. I didn’t have very high hopes for Beer League as most of Stern’s fans pretty much took a shit on it, but they can be ball breakers of epic proportions and I like Artie, so it was worth the Netflix shot.

The Stern fans are mostly right. It’s not great. It has some funny moments, but on the whole doesn’t get it done. Though I gotta say, the fact that at the end of the movie, the entirely negate the premise of the movie is pretty great.

It’s the story of a fat, drunk Italian from Jersey who is in a slow pitch softball league, against the Italian version of Billy Zabka. Because these two guys, and their teams hate each other and get into a brawl during the first game of the season, the town sheriff basically says, that’s enough you guys fight too much. Only one of you can play in this league next year. So, whoever wins the league stays, the other is banned. The low stakes are appropriate as it’s about all these guys could get themselves up to care about. It’s also funny that an entire movie is built around the idea that it’s worth telling a story where so little is on the line. After all, how hard would it be to play in a different league?

Artie (and here I’m speaking of the character. I gotta respect anyone who pulls the Tony Danza card and plays a character with the same first name, just to make things easier all around) is a big fat slob. He’s a recovering coke addict, who eats too much, drinks too much, and basically has no direction in life. I see no parallels here to the life of Artie Lange, except all of them.

Here’s where it’s hard to watch this movie. Here’s a picture of Artie when he made this movie. He’s not exactly Michael Phelps, but still. Here’s a picture of Artie now. He’s pushing 300 pounds now, and as I watched him run the bases the only thing I could think was, "There’s no way he could even run to first now, much all the way around." It sucks a little bit of the funny out of a movie, when you’re fairly certain the baby gorilla in the starring role is now 100 pounds heavier, and is, in real life, what happens to people who live the way his character in the movie lives. God, it’s sad.

To Err is Human, to forgive is five

Today with my Kindergarteners I was trying to plug in new headphones for one of the boys. As I reached to pull the tower forward I accidentally hit the power switch, turning off his computer.

I said, "Oh, I accidentally turned it off."
He said, "That’s OK."
I said, "We’ll get it turned right back on. That’s my fault."
He said, "Don’t Worry."

I’ve never been so sincerely comforted by a child. He really, really, didn’t want me to feel bad. I couldn’t help but laugh a little.

JT

Whateva! Whateva! I do what I want!

I skate with 12 gangs, and we only commit hate crimes.

Note Paragraph 6.

http://www.indystar.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20070419/LOCAL/704190553

For people who love AWESOME!

Deana sent me this link last week. I waited almost a week to watch it. I am making this face because I waited six whole days to watch it. Don’t you make the same mistake. I want you to make this face not the face I made

JT

Clarksville = Baghdad

When I was younger the license plates in Indian said "Wander Indiana." I remember this because these stupid frakking license plates made me the get the word "wonder" wrong on a 4th grade spelling test. You have no idea how mad I was about this, but Mrs. Bemiss was hearing none of my objections.

I don’t know what the motto was a month ago, as I live in Illinois. My guess is "Now with Daylight Savings Time!" but don’t quote me on that. But as of April, and Congressman Mike Pence’s visit to Iraq. After visiting a Baghdad marketplace under heavy (and by heavy I mean the rough equivalent of what an elephant would weight under the increased gravity of the Red Kryptonian sun) military protection he compared it to "a normal outdoor market in Indiana in the summertime."

Pence is from Columbus and went to Hanover. I’ve been to both of those places. I’ve not been to Iraq. Either I have a very different image of Iraq in my head than what is actually there (not frakking likely) or Mike Pence had a traumatic childhood and in his warped, broken mind the famous (at least to locals) architecture of Columbus and the rolling green hills of Madison look very much like the desert and the constant suicide bombings and gun fire remind him of the sound of speed boats on the river. It seems the latter is far more likely.

All of this has lead to the worst state motto since the Texas State Motto "No Presidential Assassinations in Over 40 years" *

"Indiana, just like Baghdad."

Though in fairness it’s also considered a sin to draw pictures of Indiana’s state prophet, Dick Lugar.

JT

* credit to Al Franken

Ballad of A Fat Man

I just got back from my first workout with a personal trainer. Sweet Jumpin’ Jesus on a Hippity-Hoppity, I’m in bad shape. This is not something that should come as news to anyone who knows me or, to their great horror, seen me sans shirt. So, I met with a personal trainer today to give his services a try. I’m writing about for one very simple reason. If the world knows I’m doing this then it’s harder to slip on it. I’m at the point where I need the external motivation I can get. That way when I would rather play video games than go to the gym, I’ll have to tell everyone about it, and it’ll be harder to get away with being lazy.

So here it is. Day One. I went in, he put me on the treadmill at 3.1 MPH at a 10.5 degree incline. At this pace, just above a walk, it took only 7 minutes to get my heart rate to 160. Not a great start. It gets better. After he handed me the medicine ball and had me jog to one end of the row, something like 20 feet, squat, turn around and run back. After one complete cycle of this my knees felt like they were going to explode. We then went immediately to push-up. I got through 20 before he stopped me. I probably could have squeezed out 5 more, but I didn’t have to. Then on to the exercise bike. It was at this point that things started to go bad. I couldn’t get my breath. I probably did 10 minutes or so on the bike before he got me off it. Then it was on to the curls. I did twenty of these. At this point the light headedness set in. Based on the grip he started to show me I think French curls were next. That being the case, I surrendered.

I was basically too lightheaded to go on. I slumped to the ground, and sat there to catch my breath. He got me Gator-Ade, I tried not to let my breakfast retreat the way that it entered, and we called it a day.

Now, something like an hour later I’m feeling much better. My food is where it should be, and I have my breath. I also have my motivation. So, a journey of a thousand cramps begins with a single horrible workout.

So, something is happening, but I don’t know what it is.

Even Geeks think this is geeky

I spent an evening with a few other couples the other night, and of the men in the group I was by far the least geeky. I have my geek tendencies, so calling someone a geek isn’t necessarily an insult. In fact, I’d say that most geeks where this moniker proudly. Here are some clues as the geek factor of this bunch. I’m saving the best for last, and mind you this is not an indictment of anyone, except maybe the last comment. That was too much even for me.

1.) I was the only one there who doesn’t program computers or work in hardcore IT. I only teach technology at a grade school.

2.) The conversation that got the table going the most, myself included, was about Buffy, Battlestar Galactice, Sci-Fi in general, and the Dark Tower.

3.) I started that conversation by bringing up the Buffy comic book.

4.) We talked about LEEEEEEEEEEROOOOOOOOOOOOY JENKINS!

5.) There were World of Warcraft players in the mix.

6.) And this is maybe the geekiest thing ever said by anyone who wasn’t speaking Klingon. I think we were talking about how long some had been doing something, like maybe living where they lived. One of the men in this group said, "I’ll tell you how long ago that was. The Dune books were still being written by their original author."

I have no idea when the Dune books stopped being written by their original author. I’m not completely sure I knew there was a series of Dune books, but at this point, my brain got angry and said, "That’s it. I’m outa here."

Out Geek that, if you can.

What happens in Vegas…

… Ends up on this blog. At least when I go there with my wife.

I had a few fantastic conversations this past weekend in Las Vegas. They could have happened anywhere and have pretty much nothing to do with being in Vegas, but this is where I was when I met these people.

As part of my Vegas ritual, doing something two times in a row makes it a ritual, we went to the In ‘N Out Burger. And while I’ll admit there are some good burgers there, I was in GI distress for pretty much the rest of that day. Not the point. We were sitting there eating next to this other couple from Texas. The "him" in this couple reminded me a great deal of my uncle Pat.  We talked about the normal vacation stuff, where you’re from, what brings you to town, all of this stuff. We tell him the reason for the visit to the In N’ Out is 100% Lebowski related. He doesn’t react as though he’s seen the movie, which is a shame, but based on the following conversation is probably better for him.

Texas Uncle Pat: "That’s a pretty good reason to eat somewhere."
Laura: "My dad took us to the diner from the Blues Brothers."
TUP: "I didn’t like that one. Too much cursing (my clue that he would not like the Big Lebowski). I did like the Blues Brothers 2000 (my clue that he would not like anything funny).
Me: "The music is really good in both, but yeah, there’s a lot of cursing in original."
TUP: "You know the show the Munsters?"
Laura doesn’t hear what he says and looks confused so I do my Herman Munster impression. He goes on to tell us about this guy in a town near his who built a 1313 Mocking Bird Lane replica and how they open it up to tourists, etc.

Any Munster’s reference brings to my mind Apu’s question to Butch Patrick "If your mother was a vampire, and your father was a Frankenstein, why are you a wolfman?"

I say this to Laura and TUP laughs, and says

"I never thought of that. That is a really good point. I’ll never be able to watch that show again without thinking of that."

I cited my source for the line so as not to take undue credit.

So, the end result of this story is I went to eat a movie related hamburger and ended up ruining the Munsters for some poor guy from Texas.

Vegas is awesome!