The Last Day

Tomorrow is the last day of school for kids. It is wonderful day. A day for reflection on the year gone by, and the beginning of something new and exciting.

It will also be my last day with students at Glenwood. All of the years past, twenty five years, seem like only yesterday. It is very strange to think of things this way, because I am leaving this place that I have always considered to be home and all the people who I have always thought of as family.

I keep thinking about all the great times and the wonderful people I have known. When I started at Glenwood I was 23 and right out of college. I was a Kindergarten teacher, a Computer Resource Teacher, and a Computer Resource Specialist at Glenwood. Most importantly, I met my wife at Glenwood, and when we were married the whole school came and celebrated.

Just the Glenwood group. This picture is on our mantle at home. Amy is in a chair and the photographer thought it would be great for me to sit on her. Akward Family Wedding Photo! 

Today I am 48 and next week Amy and I will celebrate our 20^th wedding anniversary. We have 3 wonderful kids. And every step along the way I have been at Glenwood, and the people there have shared my life. This place is more than just work.

I think that most times in life you have very little realization of each moment. I know I often think about things and wonder why I wasn’t paying better attention because I missed something. I have tried to pay extra close attention over the past few months to absorb everything that is going on. But it’s just not possible!

The only thing that I wish I could more fully express is an appropriate level of thankfulness. The problem for me is that for something so big- it is overwhelming. I want to say thank you. I had an awesome time! Call me, text me, Facebook Friend me; I’m not that far away! But it all seems a bit weak and ineffective.

While I am excited about the future and the challenges that I will face, it is important to respect the past. I know that Glenwood has made me a better person. Thank you for letting me be a Gator!

My Inspiration

Inspiration can come in many different and surprising forms. My inspiration is 11 years old, about 4 feet 9 inches tall and weighs approximately 90 lbs.

My daughter Savannah is my inspiration. She inspires me because she believes something that few other people believe, but she ignores that and does the impossible anyway. She is following her dream and she is determined to see it through.

Last year she looked at me and said, “Dad, I want to be the first female quarterback in the NFL.”

As most parents do in times like that, I smiled and said something like, “That would be great. I bet you can do it.” I am ashamed to say I didn’t believe her. Children rarely understand how difficult their dreams are, but parents are supposed to support them in their quests and somehow still protect them from the harsh realities of the world.

Savannah is not the biggest, the strongest or the fastest child at her age, but she was born an athlete. I don’t know where that comes from in our family line, but I know where her love of football comes from. It has to be my fault.

Spending every Sunday during football season locked in front of the television had to have rubbed off on her. She wanted to throw the football in the front yard. So I taught her the Peyton Manning Method for Throwing a Football. She learned it so well that in 2^nd grade she broke her friend’s finger playing catch.

About a year later we found out that Flag Football was offered at the Field House near where we live. We signed her up and it wasn’t long before she was forced to be the quarterback. I say forced because she was the best option on the team, she could throw the ball accurately, she knew where everyone was supposed to be and she didn’t mind telling them where to go.

It is pretty much understood that football is for boys, but Savannah was fortunate to have the support of some girls who also wanted to play flag football. I will never forget last year when the flag football team they faced mocked the girls on Savannah’s team as the three young ladies walked out to the center of the field for the coin toss. The other team felt differently when they walked off the field with a loss.

I am not saying that she has always been a winner, because she hasn’t. She has had many games when she had to suffer tough losses and outright humiliation as opposing teams piled on points. Those defeats only made her more determined and probably a better player.

At the end of last year’s flag football season she declared that she wanted to play tackle football and she wanted to try out for her middle school team. Her mom and I said things of support, while we tried in vain to steer her towards some other sport that might change her mind, or better yet, prevent her from trying out because of overlapping schedules.

Savannah’s focus could not be broken.  I had promised her that I would take her to the Landstown Middle School Football tryouts, and so I did. I watched her take the field with at least 70 boys and begin doing group calisthenics and football drills. Knowing that the coach was only keeping 32 to 35 on the team, I sized each boy up. They were huge! I like to say that I am 5 foot 10 inches, and on a good day I might weigh 175 lbs in my underwear, and there were quite a few boys who were taller and heavier than me. But Savannah didn’t blink an eye.

The first day at practice I tried hard not to show it, but I cried. I am not afraid to admit that I have emotions, but I don’t always want other to see, so I hid behind my sunglasses. She gave it her all, and I was proud, but I was also torn by the prospect of her not being able to follow her dream. I was a wreck.

Day two at practice had the kids line up in a tackling drill, without pads. One kid had to run by another kid who was trying to tackle the first kid. Savannah faced the one of the biggest kids on the field, who promptly tackled her at the waist, picked her up and drilled her into the ground. It was a textbook tackle. I almost boo-hooed out loud as she bounced right back up and ran to the end of the line. Now I also had to add to my list of emotions the fear of her being hurt.

At the end of day three, cuts were to be announced in the form of a list of numbers that were assigned to kids on the first day of tryouts. If a kid’s number didn’t appear on the list, he did not make the team. I agonized over how she might take the news when her number wasn’t on the list. I thought about how I could turn the conversation to a positive and express how proud I was of her just for trying. I wouldn’t allow myself to think that she could make it, because I didn’t believe it could be possible.

The list was posted before practice was over, but I couldn’t look. It seemed wrong to take that away from her. If nothing else she earned the right to know before me. I watched her as she slowly walked up to the list, one of the very last to make it there. She looked briefly and dropped her head as she turned away. I walked over to her and began my consolation speech. She seemed ok, as she told me she didn’t see her number, but she added that one of the coaches had asked her to meet him over by the buses.

We milled about for a few minutes and talked about things. She had done her best and was at peace with herself. I was sure her coach would say something positive about her performance and encourage her to keep working at it and then end with the “maybe next year,” line.

The coach came over and as I said my fatherly lines about how she would work hard and we would see him tryouts next year, he looked at Savannah and said, “Did you look at the list?”

Savannah said, “Yeah…”

He said, “You better look again, you made the team. I thought that you might have missed it because your number was penciled in.”

Savannah and I exchanged unbelieving looks with our mouths hanging open, and I think I said thank you. The coach said, “She earned it,” and he even repeated it to make sure we both heard it. He walked us back over to the list and pointed out the number 7 written in pencil at the bottom of the page.

Lucky Number 7

I was overwhelmed by the enormity of what my little girl had done. The only thing I could compare it to was the movie Rudy. I jumped on Facebook when I got home and begged for someone to share their copy (thank you Aaron!). As a family we sat and watched this movie while I hoped that the significance of Savannah’s accomplishment sunk in not only for her, but for her brothers as well.

By the end of the first week I had stopped crying at practice. Well, for the most part.

In her first scrimmage I watched her get steamrolled while playing corner. The wide receiver put a vicious hit on her while blocking downfield for a running play. Savannah jumped up after the play and ran back to the defensive huddle.

During her first game I was sure she wouldn’t get any playing time. But as the score rolled up, I realized that she might see some action during junk time. And then she ran on the field!

She played tight end and blocked on one play, and the running back scored a touchdown! She ran off the field pumping her fist thrilled with her first taste of real football in pads.

From my limited knowledge of middle school football, I would have to say that the Lancers are a good football team. As I sat in the bleachers last night watching the game it seemed for a while that the score was a bit too close for Savannah to take the field. Then suddenly in the 4^th quarter the score was 42 to 6. I was thrilled when Savannah ran onto the field, but I was shocked to hear the Landstown Cheerleaders began to cheer, “Go Savannah! Go!” over and over. Soon the play was over, but a minute later she was back on for another play. Again the Cheerleaders shouted, “Go Savannah! Go!” and now the people in the stands joined in with them.

And I remembered Rudy.

Game Face

This is why Savannah inspires me. Despite all the odds, and all the people who scoffed that a girl was trying to play football, she has taken another step towards her dream and made believers out of others. Including me.

First Date

Our Matching Halloween Costumes

Twenty years ago today I went out on my first date with my wife. After we played in the very first Gator Bowl game, I remember I thought I was being sneaky and invited everyone on the team to the Honey Bee Golf Course Clubhouse for a drink after school. I knew it was the day before Thanksgiving and most people wouldn't come, but I didn't care if anyone else came.

Amy was the only player who showed up. I gave myself silent high fives as I celebrated my brilliant manipulations. She entertained me with her favorite party tricks, while I tried to play it cool and mature (which is terribly awkward when you are neither).

I tried to plan how I would be smooth and get a kiss before she had to go. She was leaving that night to have Thanksgiving with her family in Northern Virginia and I didn't have much time. I walked her to her car and hoped I seemed more smooth outwardly than I felt on the inside. Amy laughed and kissed me anyway.

We went our separate ways that day, but I knew she was different. I couldn't stop thinking about her. At Thanksgiving dinner the next day I sat at my grandmother's table and told my uncle about this girl I met and how I blocked for her as she scored a touchdown in the flag football game we played in together. I am sure that no one was as impressed as I was, but they hadn't met her.

That holiday weekend was the longest weekend in history! I couldn't wait to see her again, my mind was full of perfect plans to cover up my glaring imperfections with the goal of convincing her to go out with me again. Luckily for me she agreed to another date. And for the last 20 years I couldn't have been happier.

She always saw me as I really was, she laughed, and stayed with me anyway. Thank you Amy, I love you!

Mr. Flashlight Holder Guy

A few weeks back I added another check mark to my personal list of man accomplishments. There are certain things that once you have accomplished, other men acknowledge as being manly. We don’t talk about it a lot because that is just not our way, but we all know it is there. Don’t let any man fool you, men are secretly comparing their list to other men’s lists to see how they match up.

Some things on the list seem silly, such as growing a moustache. But it is on the list. I have done that one. Check!

Killing wild animals is also on the list. I was able to check this off my list when I declared a purposeful killing of wildlife with my car, and then I supplemented that story with a slightly exaggerated fish tale that may, or may not, have included a shark. It doesn’t matter because I have already checked it off the list and I will protect the story with further truth stretching if needed. Check!

I won’t go through the entire list, but one thing that has always escaped me is being mechanical. You know, working on a car. I have always wanted to work on my car, but when changing a wiper blade takes 20 minutes and makes me a punchline for my wife’s jokes- I would rather a professional handled that. Besides, it is important to me that my cars actually work.

Neither my father nor my stepfather had any skills in this area. So my automotive experiences were limited to taking the car to Jiffy Lube and trying to look like I knew what the guy was talking about before I said something like,"Yeah, go ahead and throw that on there too,” and handing over my credit card.

But that was the old me! Now I can say that I helped “drop an engine.” That is what it is called when you put an engine back into a car. A friend of mine was fixing his car and I was excited to help. No, I had no idea what was going on, but I tried to pay attention and keep out of the way.

Once, I came inside for something and my wife asked me, “What are you guys doing out there?”

I locked up for a second scanning all the words I heard and stopped when I got to mani-something, so I said, “We are hooking up the manifest destiny...” and I trailed off on the destiny part hoping she wouldn’t hear that.

“What? What did you say? Ha! you don’t know what you are doing out there, do you?” She laughed in that way that wives do when they figure out the severity of their husbands’ cluelessness.

I shouted,”Shut up! You don’t know anything about cars!” and then I stomped back outside with the men. It sounded like a much better comeback in my head.

But I wanted to be useful, and the guys could see that, so they handed me a flashlight. I then became “The Flashlight Holder Guy.” It was the only job I was qualified for, but gosh darn it- I did it well.

I pointed the light here and there. Occasionally I needed to switch hands, and I did try to get style points with around the corner awkward angle spotlights. I wanted to be one step ahead of the work, so I anticipated where the light would be needed next. I really wanted to be the best Flashlight Holder Guy ever.

My dedication to my new craft was noted by the guys who knew what they were doing around a car. Sure they were making fun of me when they suggested that I be the focus of a new Bud Light radio commercial, but I didn’t care because I was helping.

So I created my own Bud Light commercial, not for me, but for all those guys out there looking to make a check mark on their man list and trying to help someone who is mechanical with the power of light. Because the spotlight is never on the un-mechanical, but the job is still important.

Click Here to hear my Bud Light Commercial

Working on a car- Check!

Boycott The Lorax

Is there anyone else out there who is bothered by the commercialization of the Dr. Seuss book, The Lorax, into the new movie, The Lorax? I try to be a good consumer and not think about things; just do what I am told. The economy needs to grow, so I must buy things. I need to go to a new movie because it is there for me to see. But the more I think about what The Lorax has become, the more wrong it seems because it is in direct opposition to the original message The Lorax was trying to get across to children.

This is a book that I love. Not just because it is a great tool to introduce children to big ideas like reducing, reusing and recycling. Not because I read it to many students when I was a kindergarten teacher. And it is not because Dr. Seuss plays with words in such an effortless and meaningful way.

I love The Lorax because this book has a heart and tries to get the reader to find theirs as well. I l love it because it helps you to understand that what you do effects the others around you and your negative impact can become much bigger than just you and your wants. This is a book that I have always believed was good for more than just being a kid’s book.

I have to admit that I was excited that this movie was coming out. I was looking forward to taking the family to see it, but then I saw my first IHOP commercial featuring The Lorax. That gave me something to think about, but I figured that was pretty much the normal for a new movie release for kids. Not popular with me, but I could live with it.

Then I saw the Mazda CX-5 commercial. Sure it is a 40 MPG vehicle, but The Lorax promoting a car? I thought cars, not just factories belched out "smogulous smoke." Would the character the Lorax have agreed with promoting cars? Greed is what leads to the Oncler’s downfall (and the Earth’s), but the commercialization of this product (The Lorax) is driven by unrestricted greed.

What is funny to me is that I am bashing a movie that Lou Dobbs is bashing, but for the opposite reason! He is upset because he says the movie is liberal and is trying to indoctrinate children into fighting rampant industrialism. I would say the movie supports what he likes, but the book doesn’t. I am thinking he is accidentally on the wrong side of the argument and he is helping the ideals that he opposes. But it could be that the inverse is true as well, that I am actually hurting what is a essentially a good message. Why do things need to be so complicated? Couldn't Universal just make a good family movie with a positive message that doesn't support products that could hurt the environment and promote an endless cycle of greed?

I usually try to withhold criticism for anything until I see what it is all about for myself, but I don’t think this movie is in any way aligned to the book’s original message.

The book points out what is wrong with human wants, but in the end it gives you hope and fills you with a feeling that you can make a difference. Yes, there are environmental issues involved, and human weakness, but the beauty of the book is its simple delivery to children in the form of a book. All of that has changed with this movie into a promotional tool for more products.

I believe in capitalism. If you own a product, or idea, you should be allowed to make money off of it. But I don’t have to buy it, and I am not going to see this movie or purchase any related products that have sprung from the original work because I think it is not what the book is about. I believe that is a boycott. I will also make sure my family doesn’t support this movie or any or the products that The Lorax represents. It will be a tough fight, and one I might not win, but it just doesn’t seem right.

I think the Lorax would understand.

Live and on the Air!

I haven't seen my friend Sean in a couple of years since he moved to Ocracoke Island, NC. I decided it was time to fix that, so I emailed him and he told me to come on down.

Sean mentioned a month ago or so that he was doing a radio show on WOVV FM 90.1, http://Wovv.org. I couldn't believe it when he said I could join him on the air if I was interested. Of course, I was interested!

I have no idea what we will play or what ridiculous things we will talk about, but we will be on the air in Ocracoke on Friday, July 22nd from 1- 5 pm. No joke!

You can listen live here.

I hope the FCC won't be listening. I wonder if he has one of those 5 second delays with a mute button?

I will be taking requests from now on- get them in and I will play them! Contact me via Google+, Facebook, Twitter, email, leave a comment, hit me on my cell, text me, or shout loudly. But not up close- I hate when people yell in my face.

My New T-shirt is Here!

After writing the Godzilla Hates Technology post I just couldn’t shake the idea. I kept thinking there was something more that I needed to do with the idea. And then it struck me-i t would make an awesome T-shirt!

I took the original design idea from Warning Sign Generator and recreated it (enlarging it, redrawing with Vector tools) using Macromedia Fireworks, and adding a Godzilla font found on dafont.com.

I decided that the image would be best on the back of a shirt, but I had to have something on the front. So I slapped a big red X on just the Godzilla part of the image and placed it over the left front side (over the heart) of the shirt.

Using Zazzle.com I made the dream happen and for a total of about $17 (I Googled Zazzle coupons) I was able to have the shirt made and delivered to my front door. It looks awesome! I thought I would share my shirt with the world, so if you would like your own Godzilla Hates Technology Tshirt, click the link below.

Look for a personalized gift at Zazzle.

http://www.zazzle.com/dtshirts

The best part is that the shirt arrived just in time for ISTE 2011 in Philadelphia. The perfect shirt for a educational technology conference. Yes, I will be wearing it there!

Question

It makes me feel unimportant to someone when they begin a conversation with the one word, "Question." Sometimes they might vary this a little by saying, "A question." Or maybe, "Oh I have a question for you." If the word, "question" appears in the first sentence then I wonder about that person’s manners.

Polite society says that you should always greet a person with a, "Hello" or some other harmless introductory word or phrase. Then after pleasantries have been exchanged, you can present the goal of the conversation from your point of view. In this way, you ease into the question; sort of like dipping your foot in the pool to test the temperature before performing a cannonball to splash people at the poolside.

At least that is what my mother taught me.

I don’t have a need to be important to everyone, but it annoys me when people walk right up to me and say, "Question." It reminds me of Dwight from the office. He is socially inept and oblivious of that fact. I am certain that people who speak to me in that way do not fit into that category, socially inept. So I can only believe that they do not care enough about me to extend the conversation for an additional 5 seconds.

I do, however, love Jim (another character from the office) when he imitates Dwight in episode 21 "Product Recall," in Season 3, and begins a conversation with the word, "Question."

Typography (http://youtu.be/AWtt4dpzoWQ), or this http://youtu.be/wHalf8liZJw more complete version.

Now, should someone begin a conversation with the magic word, I will interrupt with this-

Random Person: Question.

Me: Question. What kind of bear is best?

Random Person: That's a ridiculous question (not really sure what they will say, this is what Dwight said in return).

Me: False. Black bear.

Random Person: That's debatable. There are basically two schools of thought-- (not really sure what they will say, this is what Dwight said in return)

Me: Fact. Bears eat beets. Bears. Beets. Battlestar Galactica.

Random Person: Bears do not... What is going on?! What are you doing?! (not really sure what they will say, this is what Dwight said in return)

I will not reply to anyone in this way as an attempt to disrespect them, but for my own personal amusement. In this case I am being proactive, preparing a response in an attempt to lighten the moment, for myself. If they get the joke, great. If not, perhaps they will not approach me with that word first the next time they want to know something, and I will get what I truly want. Just a, "Hey, how are you doing today?" would be nice.

End of the World?

The End Of The World As We Know It

The promise of an uncertain future has never been more intimidating. After reading yet again that there are some people who believe that the world will end on May 21^st of this year, I had to ask myself, “Why did I buy those Jimmy Buffett tickets?”

I have never seen Jimmy Buffett live and I thought they would be a great Mother’s Day gift for my wife. But I had heard this rumor of the end of the world. What was I thinking? The Buffett concert is supposed to be on May 26^th. If anyone is still alive, that would be a great time of tribulation for the remaining population of the earth. I picture fire, panic in the streets, looting, random acts of violence, and general unpleasantness. That would hardly be the time for a Cheeseburger in Paradise, or a visit to Margaritaville, even if Jimmy and my wife and I are still alive.

If the world really does end, I won’t get a chance to get the awesome Captain America Slurpee cups (Movie in theaters July 22, 2011) that are sure to be coming right after all of the Thor cups are bought up at the 7-11 stores. I am working very hard to keep an updated super hero plastic cup collection going. I have had to fight my wife to keep them, and now Armageddon? That doesn’t seem fair.

I wonder why the followers of Harold Camping would latch on this doomsday prediction. Mr. Camping had already predicted that the world would end in 1994, and here we are in 2011 for his next attempt. How many times is ok to get this kind of thing wrong? Maybe it’s the three strike rule and then after that he will be ignored.

I have many questions about this idea of the end of the world. Certainly one day the world will end. But what about the Mayans? I don’t understand why someone would choose to believe that the world will end a week from now and then sell all their belongings and try to convince others. Why not save up your money and throw a huge end of the world party on some tropical island? They could invite all their friends and then when they are all taken up to heaven, they will be easier to find since they will be together.

What will happen on Sunday, May 22^nd? The continuation of natural disasters on a biblical scale? Or will Mr. Camping get to pick a new date?

I choose to believe that I will get more than one of the new Captain America cups. It is a small attainable goal if I am still around, something that will make me happy. If I am going to pick something bigger to believe in, then I look forward to world peace, space travel, and a positive ending to all of humanity’s problems. Maybe my ideas are as crazy as Mr. Camping’s. Either way, can we just hold off on the destruction until after Buffett? It is just 5 more days, and I can give up on the cups…

Godzilla Hates Technology

http://youtu.be/o7gFlSGXt_k Go-Go Godzilla, by Blue Oyster Cult

Godzilla is a monster that was created by technology (a nuclear explosion). He uses his enormous size and special powers to destroy everything in his path. Sometimes he fights the good fight protecting humanity, but he also likes to fight men and demolish their puny toys.

One day when I was checking my daily Diigo updates in my inbox, I came across the Warning Sign Generator. I cracked up when I saw the Godzilla graphic that I could add to a sign. Seeing him crush an airplane instantly made me think “Godzilla Hates Technology.” Just like any bad idea will do, it stuck with me until I could wrap it up in one complete package.


I think that if Godzilla could be interviewed, it might go something like this…

Piers Morgan: Godzilla, thank you for coming on the show tonight. I know our audience really appreciates you coming by to share your thoughts.

Godzilla: No problem. I don’t mind, but can we hurry up? I really wanted to crush a village or two tonight before I hit the sack.

Piers Morgan: Alright then, why do you hate technology?

Godzilla: Buttons, plugs, lights and buzzing noises… Ugh! Who needs it? I would just like to go back to the good old days when I giant lizard could just get some sleep in peace and quiet.

Piers Morgan: What if you took the time to learn about technology? Then you might see how it can make your life better and easier.

Godzilla: I don’t have time for that mess. Learning about it keeps me from doing my thing; destroying and using my Atomic Breath. That is good stuff. How could life be any better than that? No, technology is bad, so I crush it.

Piers Morgan: Maybe if you had someone help you? You could ask for help from someone you trust.

Godzilla: Are you kidding me? I am an all-powerful being! Asking for help would be admitting weakness and telling the world I am stupid! That is not going to happen.

Piers Morgan: You have worked with others to overcome a common foe in the past, Destroy All Monsters, comes to mind. Could you work with people?

Godzilla: No. The temptation to destroy you and your creations is too great.

Piers Morgan: At times you seem to have shown protective feelings for people. Do you feel any sense of protection for people? Or is that just an odd circumstantial accident?

Godzilla: Whatever makes your day go better, buddy. But truth be told, I like you little guys. You are delicious! Just kidding…

Piers Morgan: You scared me there for a second.

Godzilla: Good! That’s the way I like it. I see it like this, I need you all. If Godzilla squishes a town but no one sees it, it doesn’t much matter. Besides, I do like to snack.

Piers Morgan: Ahem…

Godzilla: Ha! I love making you squirm, Piers.

Piers Morgan: Back to technology for a minute if we can?

Godzilla: Sure. (Roars a little)

Piers Morgan: Don’t you think that if you adopted technology for your own purposes you might be regarded as a leader of men instead of a creature to be feared? Do you want to prevent mankind from being all it can be?

Godzilla: So I should help people with technology? Maybe then they could progress faster… Possibly even leading to my replacement? Or destruction?! Did you see Super-Mechagodzilla? That thing tried to kill me. No way am I going to help to destroy myself!

Piers Morgan: Have you ever considered that with, or without you, technology will continue to change the world, and if you don’t work with it, technology will indeed hasten your final departure?

Godzilla: Roars!

Piers Morgan: Easy big fella…

Godzilla: Well, if it is true that I can’t get rid of technology, then it will just have to wait until I am retired. Until then, I reserve the right to point out its ultimate weakness by stomping on it!

Piers Morgan: So all technology is bad?

Godzilla: Yes!

Piers Morgan: What about your friend Jet Jaguar? Isn’t he a robot? Robots are technological things.

Godzilla: After he gained self-awareness and realized how awesome I am… Well, look, now you are hitting below the belt and starting to upset me!

Piers Morgan: (Loud crash in the background) What was that?

Godzilla: Opps. (looks over shoulder)What kind of a car do you drive?

Piers Morgan: It is a light blue Prius.

Godzilla: I think I may have just crushed it.

Piers Morgan: Ah, man! I can’t believe it. Why would you do that?

Godzilla: It was an accident! You were irritating me and when I become annoyed my tail twitches. Relax, I am sure you have insurance, and this would be covered under act of God….zilla!

Piers Morgan: Very funny.

Godzilla: Like I said, it was an accident. I like Prius’ because they use less gas which decreases the demand for oil. Some of my best friends were dinosaurs and I really resent the fact that people are burning them up as fast as they can. Barbzilla…oh yeah. She was nice!

Piers Morgan: I think science has shown that oil doesn’t come from dinosaurs.

Godzilla: What? Don’t you start telling me any crazy mess, my pinkie toe is bigger than you and I have been laying waste to entire cities since long before you were a gleem in your Daddy's eye, so I know what’s what!

Piers Morgan: I apologize. I lost my head. You just crushed my car and I really, just simply forgot my manners and who I was speaking to…

Godzilla: That’s better.

Piers Morgan: Look, I just want to make things better between us humans and you; to reach out, and agree on some small point about technology so that we can always be on the same side. You have protected us in the past against enemies like King Ghidorah who after destroying an ancient civilization on Venus came to Earth to do the same. Is it possible for us to learn to work together on all things?

Godzilla: I am the most important thing on this planet and that is what I care most about. I don’t like change and I am not playing second fiddle to anyone else, or any gadget. PERIOD! Read My Lips- Roars! You “people” made me like this with your technology. You gave me powers and then shot at me when I was minding my own business just trying them out. That kind of set my attitude for life right there!

Piers Morgan: So, if I am hearing you correctly; you don’t care about the advancement of humankind, you don’t want to work with anyone else, you don’t like “gadgets” as you call them, and you don’t want to learn anything new. You just want to keep doing what you have always done until you retire.

Godzilla: And I didn’t think you were paying attention!

Piers Morgan: Well, that about does it for this interview.

Godzilla: Not yet.

Piers Morgan: What do you mean?

Godzilla: Roars (sprays studio with Atomic Breath)

NFL Lockout Continues…

The first big NFL event of the year approaches and I have packed up all my NFL related wear into storage boxes. Shirts, coats, ties, underwear, hats, running pants, and even shorts are packed up because I refuse to support a sport that doesn’t care about me, the lower middle class fan that spends more money than he should. I have supported the NFL up until now but the NFL is not returning my love. I have been left in the land of “Uncertain Sports Future.” If there is still a lockout, why would I want to watch the draft? And If I did, would I watch the official NFL version or would I watch the web based player’s version?

I have imagined what it would be like for football players to enter the real world workforce. I think it might look a little like this…

Until the NFL is whole again, I will not support the players or the owners.

No Football League (NFL)

I am very disappointed over the recent developments in the NFL vs Players labor issue that is happening right now. I don’t understand the owners point of view, I mean, without the players what do they own? Logos?

What used to be football games may suddenly break down to a couple of owners talking about how tough their logo is compared to the other team’s logo like a couple of eight year olds.

Zygi Wilf- “A Viking would crush a Cardinal! We have swords and shields and those cool helmets with horns.”

Bill Bidwill- “Whatever! A Cardinal will fly away! We are too fast, A Viking is slow and lumbering with all that equipment. He will tire out and then take a nap. A Cardinal will attack when the Viking sleeps dropping a poison poop in his snoring hole!”

Zygi Wilf- “You are stupid! There is no such thing as poison poop…”

Bill Bidwill- “Is too! Ever hear of the Bird Flu? Or what about Salmonella? You’re stupid.”

The owner of my team, Daniel Snyder, has done nothing but make loads of money and questionable team decisions since purchasing the Washington Redskins. He has that luxury. For example, he can fabricate seats out of nothing and sell them at Fed Ex Field. Never mind that anyone sitting there could never actually see the game. I know because I sat in one of those seats this past year. I have never been so close to the game but had no idea what was going on. I couldn’t see the field or the even tiny little TV that was mounted above me. It was the worst football experience I have ever had, and that is saying a lot because I have been to many devastating Redskins losses.

View from the $120 seat I had on Oct. 17, 2010.

Perhaps in his free time, now that the players have filed suit against the NFL, Mr. Snyder will take a few minutes to evaluate the field view from the obstructed zone. I am sure. Right after he allows more people to draw horns on his head (original article here).

While many of the players make more money than I will ever see in my lifetime, I do feel for them because the impact of the game on individuals leaves many lingering physical problems that persist long after their playing days are finished. Full medical care doesn’t sound unreasonable for the people who actually play the games.

One thing that was not mentioned in any negotiations, that I am aware of, is the need for player chaperones and common sense seminars. Players attacking female fans, or behaving in an unsafe and reckless manner, cannot be tolerated by society. Oh wait, I forgot. They are rich, young and in top physical condition… They can do whatever they want, even changing their name to non-existent Spanish numbers and then back again. I guess “ochenta y cinco” would not be outrageous enough.

There are many other issues that are floating around between these two sides, but guess what? I really don’t care. As the consumer, my only interest is in the games. If there is no football this year, I will be upset, but I’ll find something else to do with my time. After all, football is entertainment. There will be something to fill the entertainment void in my life.

Macramé sounds interesting. Maybe I could make some of that. It is a macaroni type dish with cheese, isn’t it? My wife has said I need to learn to cook more than toast.

I have also thought about creating my own turtle fighting league. I don’t think there are any laws against turtle fighting. I will call it Turtle Battle Saturdays, or Sundays. TBS for short. Two Turtles enter, one turtle leaves.

In any case, I will be in full boycott mode of all things NFL related until further notice. I won’t watch anything about the NFL, read anything about the NFL, I won't wear any of the clothing that I have that promotes the NFL (that is saying alot because most of the shirts I wear fit into this category) and I will definately not buy anything NFL related. I know this has the NFL shaking, but what if we all just said no? No to the whole mess. No to the owners who are so greedy they ignore the players that make the NFL. No to the players who embarrass us with their spoiled and immature behavior. No to $8 draft beers and $27 t-shirts with my team’s logo on it. If it is me by myself no one will care, but if all fans said no, it might be something special.

Of course the difficulty in my stance is how do I explain it to my children? This morning after my 7 year old son picked out a football tie for me to wear, I had to tell him that I wouldn’t wear the tie because I was protesting the NFL strike. He was not happy; a tie that looks like a football is cool. Luckily, he was ok with the Star Wars Phantom Menace tie with young Luke Skywalker on it.

Boycotts, stirkes, lawsuits; Sam doesn’t care about any of that. Maybe I shouldn’t either.

Tie a Day- The Parade is Over

Sometime in early October, as I entered my annual birthday depression (44 this time around), I lost the passion for entering my ties in my blog. I did not forget about taking the pictures, nor did I forget to feel guilty about not making the entries (This was a task I decided to take on and so I felt guilt for not living up to my own self imposed chore- I know, weird isn’t it?), but as the end of Tie a Day mission approached I did feel sad. I knew I would miss the odd sense of purpose that picking a new tie out daily brought to me for over the last year.

Feelings for ties? No, that couldn’t be it. Maybe it was just because I was reminded once again that every good thing must end.

The last tie I wore for this Tie a Day project was a Christmas tie that I missed wearing last year during the holidays. I was dreading wearing this tie in late October, but as the days went by, there were many opportunites to skip a tie day and raise money for a deserving cause at school and pay a dollar to wear jeans.

I must admit to being very thankful that I was finished with some of these ties, because they are ugly! But I kept the mission going, even when I offended every eye that saw me...

Tie a Day (Year 2), Number 133

Tuesday, October 5^th was the day I wore this tie. A bold red tie. This is not what I would normally wear. I think I have a hidden fear of enraging a bull, why else would I not wear red? It used to be my favorite color.

Paisley deigns decorate the tie in groups of 3. A very nice tie, but I think it would look better with a dark jacket. Then the red would be a nice addition to an otherwise plain outfit. Uncovered and flopping around the front of my shirt, it was a bit hard on the eyes.

Tie a Day (Year 2), Number 132

Come with me now as we enter the “Tie Wayback Machine.” I have fallen terribly behind in my tie posts, but I still make sure a picture is taken everyday. Eventually all ties will have their own post…

I wore tie number 132 on Monday, October 4^th, the day after a win by the Redskins! Notice the emblem on the shirt… I had to wear the shirt after beating the Eagles.

The tie is an odd one with a weave look to it, but not really a weave tie. The front end of the tie is not really smaller than the middle but I think the fabric was squished at some point. The tie is kind of on the thick side so tying the knot, was not as much fun as it usually is (it is never really fun), the knot is huge and folds the tie in an odd way.

But on this day the shirt was the most important thing. The tie was an afterthought.

Tie a Day (Year 2), Number 131

Bottom of the tie barrel… There was nothing wrong with the tie I wore last Thursday, but my choices are severely limited now. Last year at this time, I could wander through my closet and have several different ties to choose from to go with any shirt. I have to be careful now. I pick a tie and then try to match a shirt.

My tie selection process more closely resembles life. Limited selections based on previous choices made. It does take far less time to pick a tie and shirt combination, which is good. But I remember when… ties would never end…

This tie has a shimmering look to it. With blue and red dots that seem to fade in and out of the finely woven silk background. I have always liked this tie, but I am partial to black.

Tie a Day (Year 2), Number 130

On Wednesday September 29th, I wore this paisley tie. Surprisingly, it actually matched my shirt for the day. But no one cared, not even me. Tie number 130 was unexceptional, much like the wearer of the tie. Which reminds me…

Last week I received a call from the Red Cross. I was very excited because the last time I donated blood I was entered into a drawing for a pair of Redskins tickets. I should have known better. That was not why they called.

I was disappointed, but Joel was a nice guy, so I talked to him. Someone must have told Joel, or the Red Cross, about my personal weakness. It is my need to be the best at something in this world.

My perfectly mediocre existence has taught me that there is always someone better, stronger, faster, smarter than me, and most of the time that person is in the room. I think all people want to stand out because of something, and I am no different. I am sure that no awards are given for being the most awesomely average person in the world. If so, that would certainly be my award.

I am not interested in competing to prove anything to anyone, but when Joel said, “When we looked at your blood we saw that you have an outstanding Platelet count and you would be perfect as a donor for the sick children at the Children’s Hospital of the King’s Daughters.” I heard outstanding, perfect, and sick children.

How do you turn down sick children? I am outstanding? I am perfect for something? Yes, it takes that little to bend me to your will.

For days I was walking around thinking about my awesome blood. A needle in my arm, not a big deal, I have the good stuff that the world needs! Children who have lost the ability to have blood that clots? I can fix this…

I entertained myself by thinking that my blood would be special enough to start fights at an imaginary Vampire club like some newly discovered whisky lost a hundred years ago in the Antarctic. Yes, it went to my head.

When I walked into the blood donation center at 9 am on Sunday morning, there was Joel. He seemed so excited to see me. I felt like a celebrity. He quickly pulled out a bag full of swag; a reusable water jug, 2 oven mitts, a bag to carry stuff with shoulder straps and a baseball cap. Yes, the guy with the good stuff just showed up. My fans were making sure I was happy.

Shortly afterward I was led to a room with a bunch of people donating blood! Did they lie to me? Was my blood not special? I looked around and decided my blood must be better than this guy because he was older than me. And that lady there, she couldn’t have better blood than me, could she? But as I scanned the room I saw that no one else had a goody bag. I knew then that I had the best blood in the room. Maybe even the world! Two oven mitts- none of them had even one mitt.

My platelets are like a miniature wall building army that plugs all holes in their way. Like an elite Seabee unit. I do have special blood. And don’t even get me started about how exceptional my blood pressure is…

Tie a Day (Year 2), Number 129

I decided to go bold with the tie I wore on Tuesday, September 28th. I was inspired by my trip to the outlet mall in Williamsburg the weekend before. The styles I saw placed together in the men's clothing stores made me think of an angry Garanimal cage match.

I saw vertical stripes shirts matched with diamond designed ties. I saw diagonal patterned ties with stripes and even box patterned shirts. To me, they were a little much, but I have a tie mission to fulfill. So I threw caution to the wind and embraced this shirt and tie in a men’s fashion throw down.

The polling at school that day left me with mixed results. My wife was on the hater side, while I did find a surprising number of supporters. I am not normally comfortable having what I wear scrutinized, but it was a fun day. Not that there will ever be a repeat performance…

Tie a Day (Year 2), Number 128

Large purple, blue and white hibiscus flowers decorate a blue green background on this tie. The tie I wore on Monday, September 27th, has never been one of my favorites. Too flowery, and too green. But I must admit that it did work well with the shirt.

I have looked at this tie many times and could never figure out what kind of flowers were on it; until today. Looking at the picture, I finally noticed the outline of the petals and then saw the center for what it was supposed to represent- shadow.

It is funny what you notice when you really take the time to look at something. You see it for what it is and not whatever label you had previously decided to give it. Words of wisdom that I can only hope to take back with me to my everyday life…

I have changed my mind. I like this tie.

Tie a Day (Year 2), Number 127

On Thursday, September 23rd, I wore this boldly striped tie. Bright, diagonal stripes. Kind of nice, but what I really want to share is the moment of enlightenment I had over the weekend…

I have always wanted to be in a gang. Specifically, a motorcycle gang like Hell's Angels or something, but it seems that owning a motorcycle is a prerequisite to membership. So I am thinking I will start my own gang. Dad's with minivans.

I will give our group a dangerous name. Something scary and powerful like, "Devil's Pit Crew." I am still working on the name, but have already turned down my wife's suggestions of "Geeks on Wheels" and "Dorky Dads." I don't think she understands what I am looking for in a gang name.

You will find us doing donuts in the Wal-Mart parking lot. It’ll be ok, one of the Dad’s will be a cop. He can get us donuts half price at Krispy Kreme.

We will be a tough group; you don't want to mess with this bunch. We will hang out and dare some skate punk to mess with us. He won't, because he knows we have 911 on cell phone speed dial. It is listed right after poison control.

And when we see agood looking woman walking by, she better watch out! You know we will fall all over ourselves trying to get the door for her. And we will offer to help her with her bags. But she will ignore us because mini vans aren't her idea of cool. But we don’t care- because we are rebels.

The only time our language will be coarse in public is when we talk smack about our Fantasy Football team. But no one will know because we will disguise our vulgar words with nonsense screens, as in, "Grebalson mack frabbit!" Just like we do when our children accidently hammer us in the privates while playing a family game of whiffle ball. Other people don't know what we are saying, and that's the way we like it. Daddy code talk.

We are powerful and we know it because we do things like vote (but that is really only so we can be late for work or leave early to go home). The issues we really care about are; When can we turn the channel off of Teletubbies? and Does McDonald’s have the right Happy Meal toy so the kids will stop screaming?

We will be easy to recognize so that you know when trouble has shown up. We will wear t-shirts that are at least ten years old with a couple of holes in it, but we don’t care because it is the most awesome t-shirt ever. We might have cargo pants to carry all the stuff our family shoves at us (because stuffed cargo pants are way cooler than carrying a man bag around). Or we might wear jeans that are too tight, or maybe too large, but they have holes in them because we hate shopping for clothes.

All groups stand for something, and ours will be no different, except that we won’t tell what our real mission is to anyone. We will tell everyone our cover story which is that we want to promote world peace. Did you really expect that the Devil’s Pit Crew would tell the truth?

We will all get cool, scary looking tattoos. But they will the water transfer kind so that if we gain a couple of sympathy pounds our tats won’t sag. Or at least not for very long.

Yes, I think it is time for the Devil’s Pit Crew to form…