Shea, Outside the Box

Heroes

2011-02-05T19:14:00.000-08:00

This week during a work meeting, the topic of heroes was brought up. An in depth discussion followed, in which everyone had the opportunity to talk about the people who had inspired or influenced them, and ultimately shaped their futures.
I used that opportunity to explain that in many cases, I am less drawn to the classic heroes that have dotted our rich history, either as Americans or as Humans. Instead, I explained, I tended to reserve my admiration for those who served as mentors and teachers to these historic figures. The people who shaped them. The people who they looked up to as examples.
I have to admit I was a bit surprised by the negative response I received. Some people openly scoffed at my perception of a hero and challenged my judgment at choosing those I had, to serve as my examples. Many felt I was not being "realistic" in my assertion that these individuals deserved just as much credit as those whom they had guided to greatness.
Nevertheless, my mind remains unchanged. I felt even more resolved to share with others, my appreciation for these lesser known persons, who if nothing else, have inspired me to be who I am today.
#1 - So little was known about my first hero, that we have nothing more than his last name and of course his legacy, to remember him by. His name was Mr. Miyagi. During the early 80's when Mr. Miyagi happened across a young Daniel LaRusso. He saw some greatness there that others had either missed or ignored. He determined then and there to make Daniel into the man he was meant to become. In the end, Daniel learned a lot more than Ka-ra-te and the perfect execution of the crane-kick. He learned the true meaning of what it means to ask ones self "Live or die man.... Live or die?"
#2 - Colonel Sam Trautman. Don't recognize the name? Well I'm not surprised. But I can tell you one person who hasn't forgotten who Sam Trautman is. Maybe his name will sound a bit more familiar.... John? John Rambo?
Whether he was drawing first blood, stick fighting in a Cambodian brothel, or mowing down Russian's along side Afghanie warriors. Rambo would be the first to tell you he had learned every bit of it from Col. Trautman as part of his secret training to become a Green Barret. I for one will never forget his role in extending the lives of the innocent, and abruptly ending the lives of evil doers, world-wide.
#3 - And finally, some may argue that Punky Brewster is not actually a hero in the traditional sense, but that is a decision you will have to make for yourself my friend. But I doubt any reasonable person will argue the heroic status of Henry Warnimont, her adopted caregiver and psudo grandfather.
Here's to you Henry! I will never forget how you found Punky break-dancing in the empty apartment across the hall, or the time you took that humiliating job at mall, and had to wear a camera helmet. Yours was a voice of reason throughout those turbulent adolescent years. Not just for Punky, but for all of us.

Air Strikes

2011-01-31T13:43:00.000-08:00

I don’t understand why the use of air-strikes has been limited to the Middle-East and Afghanistan. Doesn’t it seem like we are needlessly depriving ourselves of a really effective law enforcement tool here at home? I for one would feel more secure in the knowledge that a remote-controlled Predator Drone was buzzing around somewhere over head, ever vigilant and ready to drop bombs or fire missiles at the first sign of trouble.

Imagine how quickly you would put an end to things like high-speed car chases, cross-border drug smuggling, prison riots, and most stand-off’s in general.

It would only take once wouldn’t it? You would see the initial news story about an armed man, who has barricaded himself inside his house. The SWAT team is preparing to enter, but then somebody has the idea… “Hey, lets just call in an air-strike!” What a great idea!” everyone would say, patting the guy on the back. (Because everybody loves a good air-strike). Of course, they would have to give the belligerent drunkard inside at least one firm warning before the blew the whole place to kingdom-come. But after one or two news stories ending with a precision bombing, armed gunmen everywhere would start weighing their options a bit more carefully. I am guessing that the lists of demand’s would get a lot shorter and that they would almost always start with #1 – Don’t fire any guided missiles into this building… Too late!… Boom!!! Problem solved.

Imagine how differently the OJ Simpson chase down that freeway in L.A. would have ended. “Attention Mr. Simpson… Pull that white Bronco over before the next exit, or we are literally going to blow you up in spectacular fashion.” Breaks would have promptly been applied and a collective grown of disappointment would have been heard across America.

Thus far, I don’t really see any flaws in such an approach. Sure there would be plenty of property damage and some cleanup would be necessary, but any money lost on property damage would easily be recouped in saved legal fees and a the new market for “air-strike cleanup” would give the small business sector just the shot in the arm it needs.

At this point, I am not going to say this is a perfect plan. But I'm also not going to say it isn't

Mini Shopping Carts

2011-01-25T14:13:00.000-08:00

I want to go on record and publicly voice my disapproval of the mini-shopping carts that have been systematically replacing hand baskets in many super-markets.

I have always found the entire shopping experience to be emasculating enough without having to push around something that looks like it belongs as part of a shopping themed Barbie-Doll set.

The hand basked has historically provided men with an alternative to pushing an entire shopping cart. And unless you carried it in crook of your elbow, you could still pull off a pretty manly look, while shopping for baby food, organic soy milk and feminine hygiene products.

Now with the advent of these mini-carts, your only choice is to pick between carts, or do like I do and load up 50 lbs of groceries in your arms and then try to casually walk around with your neck veins popping out as you strain to carry 2 gallons of milk, a large cantaloupe, a jumbo pack of toilet paper, a bundle of bananas, a loaf of bread and a family pack of chicken thighs.

My only comfort comes from seeing 5 other guys in the checkout line; veins popping, beads of sweat gathering on their foreheads, refusing to give in to the mini-cart craze. As we exchange subtle gestures of solidarity, my milk jugs and the cantaloupe somehow begin to feel lighter.

Global Warming?

2010-06-09T20:03:00.000-07:00

I have an inconvenient truth for my all my environmentalist friends out there... You are trying to sell this global warming business to the wrong crowd if you are anywhere north of Arizona state line.
I am not so concerned about whether or not people accept global warming as a scientific fact. I think the bigger and more realistic problem is that even if you convince people living in cold climates that global warming is real, they will think it is awesome. When you are finished explaining to these people that their climate is going to get warmer, and that rising sea levels will mostly affect people in California, they are still going to be waiting for the bad news... Allow me to set the scene.
A well educated Ph.D. of some sort is at a town hall meeting, somewhere deep in red-America, doing his best to explaining to the locals about the dangers of global warming. Upon finishing his spirited presentation a hand is raised and the following conversation takes place.

Farmer - "Errrrr..., uhhhh..., was there supposed to be a warning in there somewhere Mr. science man?"
Ph.D. - "Aren't you listening you stupid hick!? I said there would be no more severe winter weather!"
Farmer - "Uh huh."
Ph.D. - "Summer would be like 6 months long!"
Farmer - "Yes sir..."
Ph.D. - "And all those intellectual types living along the coasts, who hate your stinkin' guts, because of your morals and values, would lose their houses!"
Farmer, (now speaking very slowly and carefully enunciating his words) - "I'm with you so far... Now, at what point does the bad stuff start happening?"

They would likely go on like that for hours.

The Ph.D. could also warn them about how their land would become insanely valuable, and how the extra rain would likely turn their entire area in to a tropical paradise, and how the women of that area, would of course become more attractive as the warm summer sun kept their skin golden-brown, all year round, forcing them to wear less, if any clothing at all....

No,... I am sorry Mr. Science man. While all of that sounds perfectly awful to me, I think you will have to come up with a more convincing argument if you expect to get anywhere with these people.

30 Years Old

2010-01-07T08:23:00.000-08:00

Today is my 30th birthday. (That's me in the picture)
I remember when I was a kid and 30 seemed so old. Now that I am there, it seems even older. In recent months I have started to find gray hairs peeking out here and there. The transformation has already started! Before I know it, my kids will be helping me eat and dabbing slobber off my chin!

Maybe I am being melodramatic about this whole thing, but I don't think so. What I do think is that everyone else is not being dramatic enough!

They say that men are like fine wine, in that they get better with age. And I guess this is true... If your name is Sean Connery or George Clooney. Aside from those two people, everyone else just gets older with age.

Better with age my foot! Do you know who made up that saying? The same group of liars that said "Winning isn't everything" and "All you can do is you best". Well let me give you a little reality therapy buddy. Your best wasn't good enough and you lost! And now you will never get another chance, because that was your last year of high school and you blew it! Now you will never date the prom queen (whoever that was?) and before you know it, you will be 30 years old and considering which shade of "Just for Men" is right for you! Dang you George Clooney, for setting the bar so high!!!

Now I can already hear your rebuttals and arguments:

"But Shea, you're still the best looking guy I know."

and

"I would kill for your intellect at any age!"

or

"Of all your over-achieving, nerdy siblings, who thought they were so special excelling in remedial classes, taught at a stupid, second rate high-school, getting 4.0 GPAs and scholarships while you were still struggling through math 101, not because you were stupid, but because you were too busy partying with all the cool kids, every night of the week to waste time studying for some dorks test, who hates you anyway, because you nic-named him "Poop-Tooth", which was less of a nic-name and more of an actual description, that you inavertently blurted out during an assembly!!!....!!....! (Deep Breath)...... What was I saying?... Oh nevermind. I just wanted you to admit that I was the best looking person you know and that my siblings were all nerds.

2009-09-16T14:54:00.000-07:00

New Haikus

The Portly Child: Part Deux

He eats his desert
Truly happy. Let him be
This moment is pure

The Good News

Ma'am your son is dumb
But, he is also ugly...
Oh,.. I meant bad news

The Rivalry

BYU, Utah
Can't we all just get along?
The answer is "no"

Dolphin Free Tuna

2009-08-31T14:28:00.000-07:00

What I am about to say my shock some of you, while delighting others. Until last year, I honestly had no idea that it was a bad thing to have a little dolphin in with your tuna. I have always purposely avoided the brands of tuna that say "Dolphin Safe", because I consider dolphin to be a sort of delicacy. I thought it was some sort of name brand thing, where only the cheap brands couldn't afford to put a some dolphin meat in with the regular old tuna meat.

"Wow, Dolphin meat must be worth a ton" I would say to myself. I always wondered why they didn't include a percentage rating to show how much dolphin the tuna had, like, "contains 25% real dolphin meat". I would have scooped that up in a heartbeat.

Also, I always wondered why there were no fishing shows that were out there catching record setting dolphins.?.? "Oooooh, he's a 300 pound Bottle nose for sure!" "Man we thought we had us a big old Spotted, but it was just a dirty old Tuna!

Come to think of it, this explains why I was tossed out of Sea World, after inquiring about dolphin burgers at the food stand. "What!?!, Seaworld doesn't have dolphin burgers!?! That's like not being able to get simple Giraffe sandwich at the Zoo.

Black Tennis Shoes

2009-02-20T17:40:00.000-08:00

Here is your random thought for the week...

What is the deal with solid black tennis shoes? I think you know what I am talking about. Haven't you ever just been talking with someone who is a little off, only to look down and notice that they are wearing solid black tennis shoes, similar to those pictured above? And here is another question. Where the freak do you even get black tennis shoes? I don't ever remember seeing these things for sale. I mean, is there a special black-shoe store somewhere? Or a secret section of the shoe store that I don't know about? Wherever it is, I bet other items sold in that area of the store also include things like: suspenders and ties that look like piano keys,... those weird 50's style hats that mobsters and jazz saxophonists always wear,... (see below) and of course, calculator watches.

P.S. Actually that reminds me... Does anyone know were I can buy a calculator watch?

Rush Delivery Available!

2009-02-07T07:30:00.000-08:00

I'm Back Baby! - I have been so swamped with work and school that I had lost all will to laugh, but recently I saw a classic info-mercial demanded my immediate mockery.

Every few months they come out with those new lame music collections that they for "A-Limited- Time-Only!" Like the "Greatest Oldies" collection or "Monsters of Rock" or "Monster Ballads". Now right now some of you are growing a bit uneasy and wondering if I'm going to attack your precious "Ballads", but I won't... I would love to, but I don't have time. For now there is a far more pressing matter that needs to be addressed... The Dance Mix Collection!

There are endless reasons why I would never spend money, or even take money to own one of these CD's, but as I listen to the commercial, explaining why this particular collection is a "Must Have" for any music fan, 2 things really catch my attention:

#1 - At the end of the mercial, there is always this mind-blowing phrase: "Rush Delivery Available!" Rush delivery available? Rush Delivery Available!?!? I want to meet the party-animal that not only spent money on this spectacular collection, but then took it one step further and actually had that bad boy rushed to his door. -Allow me to set the stage - A college sophomore, age 27, wearing a purple headband with sequins, eating puffed, generic Cheetos, sitting indian style on the living room floor. The commercial comes on and without breaking his gaze on the screen says "Mom, hand me that phone". I guess when you gotta dance, you gotta dance!

#2 - Another subtle clue as to the type of people buying these CD's is this statement, "Send cash, check or money order to....... First of all, if you still do not own a credit card or a bank card, it is seriously past time to unhitch the wagon, get some indoor plumbing and live in the now! Secondly, if your financial situation is crappy enough to necessitate using a money order to buy a 10 dollar CD! Chances are you shouldn't be buying the Dance Mix Collection. Yet ironically, it is likely your irrational love of useless crap that landed you in this predicament in the first place. But even as you are reading this, your heart you are already there, preparing to dance.

I think legendary dance band "The Real McCoy" put it best when they penned the imortal phrase: "Rhythm-rhythm... Rhythm-rhythm... Rhythm is a dancer. It's a soul's companion. You can feel it everywhere! But lift your handsome voices, free your mind and join us! You can feel it in the air. Ohhh...!!!"

Re: Mormon Fiction (See my blog list)

2008-12-11T16:16:00.000-08:00

*Before you read this, you have to go and read the "Mormon fiction blog" linked on the right.

I have always found this to be an exciting and original genera of literature myself. All those totally original stories about a unlikely heroine on the planes, fighting for survival, overcoming hardship and triumphing in the end! Remember? That one book? About the struggling family? No, not that one, it was just like it, but the names were different, and the family was eaten by wolves, not killed by Indians... But it ended happy.

Clearly I am being sarcastic (What a surprise!)

Anyway, here is my idea for a new series in "Realistic Mormon Fiction" - (That's actually believable)

Book #1. "Divine Secrets of the 34-D Sisterhood" - A group of middle relief society sisters get breast augmentations and soon find out their new additions give them a strange power over every man they know. Now they must decide if they will use this new, strange power for good, or evil. Join these adventurous sisters as they embark on this journey of spontaneous growth & self discovery. You will experience the joy that comes with each timid look of restrained amazement, and the heartache that every disapproving glare brings.

Book #2. "Weirded Out" - The side story of everyone who didn't get a boob job.

Book #3. "Still Weirded Out" - Taking place 1 year after the original 34-D story, this final chapter in the "34-D" series explores the ways in which various ward members and friends have chosen to deal with their conflicted feelings regarding the "Sisterhood". Haled as the "darker" & "more gritty" of the 3 books, "Still Weirded" takes an unflinching look at both sides of the "Augmentation Argument".

What I am really thankful for.

2008-11-30T18:13:00.000-08:00

With Thanksgiving now past, the holiday season has officially begun. Every year we answer that age old question, "what are you thankful for". And every year we give the same stock answers. "My family, friends, a house, food to eat, blah, blah, blah!.

What are you really thankful for? What is something in your life that has never let you down, made you mad, or caused you stress?

Today I found a paper with two crudely drawn pictures on it. One was lobster, the other was a pickle. I asked my 4 year-old why he had drawn those two things and he responded very matter of factly "They told us to draw what we were thankful for, so I drew a pickle and a lobster."

"Of course!" I thought, "It makes perfect sense." Pickles have no natural enemies and the lobster he was referring to is stuffed and therefore harmless.

This really made me reevaluate what I am truly grateful for. What are the things in my life that are simple, good and purely beneficial, with no drawbacks or compromises? I offer the following list:

1. Ankle Socks - I love these little guys! They protect my feet from my shoes and don't ever fall down or bunch up.

2. Q-Tips - "Hello, my name is Shea... And I am a Q-Tip-Aholic" Everyday after I shower, I use my beloved Q-tips. In fact, sometimes I will shower just so I can use a Q-Tip. Here's another confession. Sometimes in the middle of the night, I will just get up and clean out my ears for no reason at all, other than I love how it feels to clean my ears. You think I'm crazy? Well maybe you are just repressed!

3. Sneezing - Sneezing is like a free 1 second, natural high. If you don't know what I am talking about, chances are that you aren't allowing yourself a full uninhibited sneeze. Forget about being politically correct! Next time you have to sneeze, just let-r'-rip! You'll thank me later.

4.My Blankie - Here me now world! I am 28 years old and I have a blankie! (Really it is more of a quilt but you get the point) It was a Christmas present from my grandmother when I was 18. And I have slept with it nearly every night since and I LOVE it. I literally love my precious blanket. If my house was burning down, I would run back inside, risking my life, to save my blankie. Just like those lame scenes from the movies. Fire Cheif - "Okay!, that's everyone! The building could come down any second!" Me-"Wait, what about my blanket! I've got to save my Bbblllaannkket..." (my voice trails off as I run back into the burning building). In this daydream, the story either ends with me emerging triuphantly from the crumbling building after an impossible amount of time inside the blaze, with the blanket in my arms, or with the firefighters finding us dead the next morning, curled up together, with some sort of melted metal between us, shaped like a heart.

P.S. I would love to hear what you are really greatful for. Please don't be afraid to share, we are are all friends here.

You can be anything you want to be. (almost)

2008-11-12T07:14:00.003-08:00

The other day my wife had some errands to run and I was left home, taking care of my two boys. We were I was sitting at the table having a snack, when out of nowhere my 4 year-old announces, "I'm going to be an Indian when I grow up." He said it very matter-of-factly, just like in a, "just so you know" sort of way. "Oh really?" I said. And he responded "Yea, I'm gonna get that triangle thing (referring to an indian arrow head he has) and rub it on a frog and kill animals with it. Here, he was clearly confusing our Native American Tribes, with the indigenous tribes of South America (a common mistake for a 4 year old) but I let it go and asked what someone has to do or have to be an Indian? He said "Well I already got one of those triangle things, so I won't have to buy that, and I need a band that goes around my head."

I had to admit he had a pretty solid plan and I was wondering about becoming an Indian myself, but then I remembered something else, so I asked him about having white skin, and how that would effect his plans to become an Indian. He really thought about it and said "Well, you don't have to have brown skin to be an Indian. I thought his over, and knowing it could become an issue in the future I suggested to him that maybe, being an Indian, was more of a state of mind, rather than some clearly defined biological or genetic "fact". He readily agreed and that is where the conversation ended. And though I was uncomfortable with the idea at first, I think I have really come to respect his decision.

I think as parents we have a tendency to take it personal when our children choose a path in life, that is different than our own. But then I have to remember when I was young, and I decided I wanted to be a lion, in a circus. "Oh, that's nonsense!" they told me. "It can't be done." Well, my spirit was crushed, and gave up that dream, and I have regretted it everyday since. So when my son, my own flesh and blood, looked me in the eyes and said "I am going to be an Indian!" I knew I couldn't be responsible for crushing that dream.

"I'm a Hunter!"

2008-10-27T09:14:00.000-07:00

In case you live in a hole, or have been out of the country for the last month, let me bring you up to speed. It was "Deer Huntin'" season in Utah!

I myself was actually a former hunter in another life, before I got too busy with work and school. But I plan to return at some point... Maybe.

When you are on the outside looking in, this whole fiasco looks quite a bit different. The hunt loses a lot of its glamor once you haven't participated in a while. For instance. I always loved the thrill of the hunt. Which in my case meant driving around for hours on end, or sitting at the edge of a field in sub-zero temps waiting for even a glimpse of a raggedy 2-point that weighed as much a large dog. Really the only thrill was the 4 seconds of intervening time between when I first saw the 2-point and when I shot the two point. But it always seemed worth it.

Now however, when I think of this same scenario, I not only have to take into account all the waiting, driving, soda, BS and the final culmination of the kill, but also the gutting, skinning, butchering, and then eating of this meat that is basically sage-brush flavored and dry as a bone. Is any of this sounding familiar?

So, I guess you can see why I put a maybe on my plans to start hunting again.

I have also noticed another phenomenon that I never caught onto, even when I was a might hunter myself. This would be the tradition of wearing your hunting clothes during the week leading up to the actual hunt.

It was like Tuesday or Wednesday of the opening weekend and I started noticing everybody with the 4-wheelers already packed up, towing their tent trailers around and inexplicably wearing their hunter-orange. I can only assume that all of this was to broadcast to the world "I am a Hunter!" What other explanation could there be? I mean, do football players wear their pads and helmet for days, leading up to a game? Do rock climbers walk around wearing their harness with a rope slung over their shoulder? "What's up dude, I'm going climbing in a few days". And yet, hunters find in necessary to dawn their hideous orange sweaters, their dorky hunting caps with the ear flaps and their giant blood-smeared boots. So here's to you, super excited hunter-man. It looks like your going hunting? Good luck, in 4 days!.

(There is one guy I want to exclude from my mockery. That is the guy wearing the full coverall suit of orange. This guy does not have time to decide between a vest, a coat, a hat, etc. "To heck with it" he says, "I am here to kill dear, not look good"... You wear that bad-boy all year if you need to buddy. I think there are few (too few?) people, even among the hardest of the hard-core hunters, that are willing to step into a pair of blaze orange coveralls, zip it up, and head out the door into public view.)

The 90's Called

2008-10-19T16:59:00.001-07:00

The other day I was sitting at home and I got the most random phone call… It was “1995” calling, and they wanted their check-books back.? Well, I thanked them for their time but explained that I had stopped making purchases with checks during the Clinton Administration.

It was fitting that I would get such a phone call, because earlier that week I had been rushing to leave town and got stuck behind a lady who apparently didn’t know the rest of us had stopped using checks at the store 13 years ago.

I have to admit that these occurrences are becoming increasingly rare. But regardless of happening less often, they are still equally painful. Let me walk you thought the scenario:

You line up behind a woman at the supermarket. (almost inevitably in her late 40’s to early 50’s) As her items are being scanned she watches patiently, making sure that all prices reflect the coupons she has provided the 16 year-old manning the register. When the total is tallied and the payment requested, she reaches into her purse for what you hope is a card of some sort… Anything made of plastic.

There is a tense moment and then the ultimate let down as you see her retrieve the dreaded check-book. Aaawwwee! An audible grown goes up from the entire line, (not to mention the cashier) as they all know what is coming next.

She takes out the book and gingerly places the carbon copy page between the first and next check. She carefully inspects the total and starts to write it out, “Sixty – five - dollars – and - forty seven/one hundredths.” Then she writes the numbers out, dates the check, signs it, (but not before noting in the lower left corner what the check was for “G-r-o-c-e-r-i-e-s”. Then she begins the tedious process of ripping the check from the check-book. If successful in this, she must then write her home phone number and driver’s her license number down on the top of the check, so they can track her if she is a fraud. Finally, if all has gone according to plan (average time 4 min, 30 seconds), she turns to the back pages and subtracts the newly spent amount from the total balance still left in the account.

By the time this is all done, half her groceries are rotten. (All of my groceries are rotten). The cashier is exhausted and the store is closing. Luckily, I step up and am able to pay for my g-r-o-c-e-r-i-e-s is 2.7 seconds, leave the store and check my balance online when get home (average time, 34 seconds).

Live in the now people!

I Almost Died - Again!

2008-10-06T15:36:00.000-07:00

Today, like most other days, I was driving down the road minding my own business, when I noticed a white truck up ahead waiting to pull out. I didn't give it anymore thought until I was ten feet away, when suddenly it started easing out into traffic. I don't really believe in horn-honking, so I just slammed my breaks and got behind the person. As we drove on, I notice that their blinker and their wipers were turning on and off, and that they were swerving back and forth. I decided the person must be high or drunk so I pulled up along side, to get a better look, thinking I might need to call the police. Well, it turns out that the driver was not drunk or high, he was just old.

Now, I understand that this post might be offensive to some people, and that this might be a touchy subject. But frankly, so is dying in a fiery auto accident. (At least for me) I would not even approach this subject if, as the title suggests, it wasn't happening all the time.

At this point I am starting to believe there must be some sort of Gov. cover-up or something, because I seem to be the only person that considers this a problem in our society. And because I am the only one who ever complains about it, I am forced to choose between two unthinkable conclusions.

Scenario #1 - Even though everybody has frequent near-death experiences courtesy of age-ed drivers, the government is working to suppress this information... But why?!?

Scenario #2(I think this one in the most likely) - The elderly have banded together and are deliberately and systematically targeting me, and only me, with these slow moving attempts on my life. Again I ask, "Why?"

I guess the reasons why are essentially irrelevant. What is important is that it is happening people! Fortunately, I am like the one-eyed man in the land of the blind. Try as they might, I always see them coming. "Missed me again grandpa!!!" I yell, shaking my fist out an opened window, as I narrowly escape with my life.

I am writing this as a sort of final will and testament, you know, if something were to happen to me. In the mean time, I am asking for your help. Your silence can't save you. This is not a problem that is going away. Think of your children man! YOUR CHILDREN!!! What will their future be like? Some day the very old will rule this country. And in that day, you will have to look back and say "if only we had listened to Shea". (Rhyming not intended).

Bench Press Hero - Dude.

2008-09-29T21:09:00.000-07:00

"Dude, how much you up to on your bench?"
"Probably around like, 300 Dude." (Around "300" is code for 250)
"Dude!"
"Yea, I know."
"300 dude?"
"300 dude."
"How often you benchin' dude?"
"3 times a week bro, I mean dude."
"Duuuddde"

The preceding was an actual conversation that I made up to illustrate how bench-press heroes think and operate. What exactly is a bench-press hero? Let me elaborate, dude.

There are two categories of bench-press hero or BPH. The first is the hardcore BPH. He lifts 3 times a week, and can be found exclusively on the bench-press. Typically he is benching more than he should be, without a spotter, which results in him being pinned under the bar a lot and squealing for help, followed by statements like "I thought it had it dude, I repped that like 10 times yesterday!" The hardcore BPH also does all sorts of weird bench variations that have absolutely no scientific foundation, because he usually made them up himself. He enjoys asking everyone else what they bench - dude, and offers unsolicited advise on how to improve your bench-press performance... Thanks, but no thanks dude.

The second category of BPH only lifts once or twice a month. He is also unfamiliar with any other machine besides the bench-press. His routine consists of doing a set and then standing up and checking himself out in the mirror for 5 minutes, then repeat. This sort of BPH is convinced that his rigorous, bi-monthly program is secretly making him huge. He can definitely see a difference after each set. And he wonders why the hardcore BPH is spending 3 days a week for the same imaginary results.

Oh Edward!

2008-09-27T16:39:00.000-07:00

Recently a new craze has been sweeping the nation, yea, even the world. Many of you are well aware of the craze of which I speak. The dreaded “Teenage Vampire Craze”. Or the, “My wife is in love with a make-believe 17 year-old monster - craze”. Now all of you women out there, please spare me the argument. “Oh, well he only looks like a young boy. Really he is over a 100 years old!” Is that right? Then let me ask you this question. Are you into to boys or dirty old men? Don’t try to explain, just answer the question! Of course I am being facetious, we all know what you see in Edward; You like the fact that he looks like a innocent impressionable bot, yet he has 100 years of experience, satisfying women. Have I struck a nerve? I bet I have. You don’t like me speaking of your precious Edward that way, do you? Do You!?! And don’t waste anyone’s time trying to claim that us men are just jealous. Because we know we're jealous! We are not even trying to deny it! But before you sit back in your chair, in a satisfied, victorious manner, let me propose a scenario that might bring you back to reality.

Imagine one day you are going about you business in the house whistling a merry tune or singing a song you made up about your lust for Edward. “La la la, Oh Edward! Won’t you make me your vampire bride! Won’t you teach me your ways of undead love and then… I would start to fantasize about mortal men. Tra la la - la la…” While you are singing and dancing with an imaginary Edward, you happen across your husband, who is clearly engrossed in a book. Not only that, but he is completely oblivious to your presence and couldn’t care less that you are singing about Edward. So you approach him and ask what he is reading, only to get the following response.

“Oh, it is just a book about this really hot 17 year-old girl. In fact, it is about a whole gaggle of smokin’ hot teenage chicks and the men who lust after them. But the girls only look like teenagers, but really they are immortal, and are secretly like 100. You would like it honey, they are just full of passion and burning desire! Oh, and by the way, I think I am in love with main character, even though she is not real and I am a married adult.”

There, you see! It’s not so harmless when the shoe is on the other foot is it? You just consider that next time you’re trying to explain to your husband why you are infatuated with a minor. Or at least don’t act surprised the next time you catch him checking out high schoolers a the mall.

Random Defense of Ugly Animals #1

2008-09-20T13:20:00.000-07:00

I am so sick of hearing how great horses are! “Oh, horses are sooo great!” “I just love horses” “Horses run sooo fast!” “Horses are so pretty” “Don’t turn that horse into glue!” “There better not be any horse meat in this dog food!” Blah blah blah… What about the other members of the horse family? Or have you forgotten about the loyal donkey, the noble mule, or the exotic zebra? What about these black sheep of the equine kingdom?

Let me ask you a question? When it comes time pull a plow, which would you rather have, a horse or a mule? If you said a mule, you’re in luck. If you said horse, you better be asking for two or three buddy, because a mule will out pull a stupid horse any day.

What if you are headed into the heart of the Grand Canyon! Horse or donkey? Again, if you picked the horse, I hope you are also packing a shovel, because you are going to need it when and if you reach the bottom…. To bury your freakin’ horse!

Now I know what you are saying: “Oh, but what about herding cattle?” What about herding cattle? Has there ever been an issue with the cows, outrunning the horses? If the issue is needing an animal that can run fast, why don’t we saddle up an ostridge? And if speed is the only thing that makes a horse superior to other equine, then let me ask you this question Mr. Ed. What are you running from punk? Huh? Because let me tell you something. If someone wants to start some trouble with a mule or a donkey, that mule isn’t going anywhere baby. He is going to stand right there like “Yea that’s right, I am sterile. Do you got somthin’ to say about it?... I didn’t think so.” And donkeys are even worse. A donkey is not afraid of anything but running. Donkeys are the like samurai of the animal kingdom. They would rather die standing then live running.

Last but not least, let’s talk about the rugged zebra. You tell me the last time a horse got attacked by a crocodile, a cheetah, a lion? Any horse still able to walk would be for getting the heck out of Dodge (or Africa in this case). But not the reckless zebra, oh no, they are thrill seekers, they prefer danger to the comfort of the sedentary life.

So just consider that next time you feel like praising some horse like that sell-out “Big Brown”. “Big Brown” my foot! Big Brown Tool is more like it. Run if you must, but you will be running alone.

Sara Palin

2008-09-18T08:54:00.001-07:00

One of our loyal readers has requested that I do a post on Sara Palin. So I will give it a go, but all I can do is my best.

Who is this "Sara Palin" everyone keeps talking about? Lets start from the beginning... Sara was born in Tennessee, on top of one of the local mountains. Despite living in Alaska, she is very clear that she loves TN and considers it, "the greatest state in the land of the free". Sarah grew up in the woods of TN and was familiar with her surroundings and claims that she knew every tree near her home. Stories have been circulating about her being a bear hunter, but she dismisses these as just that "stories".

Sarah is well educated, and has several areas of expertise, including : challenging corruption, oil exploration, economic reform, and last but not least, "Ingin' Fightin'".

So what exactly fascinates us about Sara? Well, she is easy on the eyes, at least when compared to other female politicians, who I normally like to described as "human jerky". She wears hip glasses and actually has long hair instead of the classic, man-lady power-due. But what of her political views? Where does she really stand on the issues? Just what does Sara Palin stand for?

I think if Sara were here, she would say she stands for America! She stands for conservative values and traditions! She stands for rich, voluminous Auburn hair, with some highlights and tons of body. But above all she stands for you and me friend!

One last note on Sara Palin and her pregnant daughter. Would everyone that is pretending that this actually matters, in any way regarding political issues, please shut your dirty mouth! Especially those of you who blindly defended Willy Clinton during his "60's era" like, free-lovin' romp through 2 terms. That's right, so just put that in you liberal pipe and smoke it!

The DNC

2008-09-11T19:40:00.001-07:00

The other day, for a brief moment, I happened across a broadcast of the Democratic National Convention. The speaker at the time was AZ Governor, Janet Napolitano. I had never seen Janet, nor had I ever heard her speak. But as I listened, one word kept entering my mind.... That work was "Stickinthemud". I mean, what a bunch of freaking stiffs! Her speech was sooo boring... Filled with anti-McCain slogans and slams, lame put-downs and self righteous propaganda... That's right, I said "propaganda". Try using that word in your next speech Janet.

Now don't get me wrong, I am sure the Republican "GOP" Convention was not any different. So mark my words Republicans, you will get yours. Oh yes, you will get yours. I may not have watched your convention, but I am banking it didn't take long for somebody to slip up and say exactly what every other filthy rich industrialist in the room was thinking about Obama. "But he's poor!, he's from a single parent household!... And he's Black!" Then some old southern lady, with a big hat and a fancy fan will be so horrified at the thought, that she will just pass out, like in the movies.

P.S. If you actually know something about politics, and want to set me and other readers straight; just save your breath preacher-man. I have no quarrel with you.

The Haiku

2008-09-08T07:37:00.000-07:00

I love a good haiku. That's right - a good old haiku.
If you don't know what a haiku is, let me bring you up to speed.

A haiku is a style of Japanese poetry that consists of three lines, having 5 syllables, 7 syllables and 5 syllables respectively, and none of these line really rhymes.

I know I am weird, but I think this form of poetry is so funny. It is so simple and basically stupid that I can't help but throw out a haiku now and then. Here is a sample of my haiku skills. I wrote these in class on Saturday. They were all relevant topics at the time.

Computer

My laptop just crashed
I paid a nerd to fix it
Norton is a scam.

Autumn

Fall is coming on
Change thy hue oh shaky leaf!
Soon you will be dead.

The Portly Child

Huffing and puffing
This slope mocks my every step
Curse my soft, pear shape

Lactose Intolerant

Is this your cheese sir?
It is as poison to me
This milk, curd and whey.

*Please submit your own haiku or two in the comment section. It is a liberating experience.
If enough people submit, we can make a contest out of it.

Stupid Sales Pitches

2008-08-24T19:07:00.000-07:00

As you all know, there is no end to stupid commercials. Basically every other ad that you see suggests that the owner of that particular company has an idiot son, who needed a job, so they put him in charge of advertising. But something you don't notice as often are decent commercials that have terrible sales pitches or messages. An example of this is the Budweiser commercial that has been airing during the Olympics. This ad has an original song meant to appeal to the average working man and includes lyrics like, "This is who I am" "This is what I stand for" and my favorite "This is what I believe in, when the day is done." That is fantastic! If someone were to ask one of my friends or relatives, "Hey tell me a little bit about Shea." I would want them to reply, "Oh, he stands for beer, and actually his is beer, and at the end of the day, what he believes in, is beer... Particularly Budweiser."

Now going back to the commercial. Of course this new theme song is being played along with a video of happy people, all engaged in good clean American fun. When in reality, it should be a video of some guy in a wife-beater, (you guessed it)... beating his wife, losing his job, or maybe getting arrested. All with that great Budweiser anthem blaring in the background... This is Budweiser!, This is Budweiser!, This is Budweiser!, King of beers!!!

I always pay attention to these sorts of advertisements and tend to notice when there is a glaring example of just such stupidity. This week, I think I found the worst one ever. It was a radio spot for a water-softener company, which featured an actor, talking about why he had decided to purchase a water-softener. He was moving through the standard lingo and sales pitches about soft water, healthy skin and so on. Then they took it a step too far into the realm of pure ridiculousness, when the guy suggested a major reason he decided to go with soft water, was to save money on soap! Save money on soap? SAVE MONEY ON SOAP!!! That is like saving your used toothpicks, to save money on fire wood! Let's see, if a water-softener runs $1,500 installed, and a bar of soap runs $.50 cents on average, and you use one bar a week, that would equal about 26 dollars a year in back breaking soap expenses. Now, if you could save half of that with this new, incredible water-softener, you would be racking up $12.50 a year in savings! That's over a dollar a month! That means the water-softener will pay for itself in just 120 years! What are you going to do with all that extra cheddar floating around!?!?! I don't know about you, but i am going to buy another water-softener!

The Simple Life

2008-08-19T15:13:00.000-07:00

Life just gets more and more complicated as you grow older. At some point I think you reach the pinnacle of complication (just before retirement) and then you are able to start slowing down again.

Right now, my 1 year old is on the extreme end of the spectrum. I realized this on Sunday when he was looking through an animal book and announcing excitedly that every animal was a “Doggy!” This is how reality looks for a one-year-old: If it has four legs, it’s a doggy. If it swims under water, it’s a fishy. If it’s flying, it’s a birdie. Most women are mommy. Most men are daddy. Anything that does not fall into these broad categories can simply be identified by the sound it makes. There are quack-quacks and honk-honks, monkeys are commonly known as ooh-oohhs. “No-no” is the sound that mommies and daddies make.

Beyond that, there are just a few other situations that unique to toddler communication. Such as: If you’re done with your food, you can just throw it on the floor. If you can’t throw, just rub it in your hair. (This is the toddler equivalent to putting your napkin across your plate) If you like another kid, try poking out their right eye, but if you don’t like them…. you guessed it… it is proper toddler etiquette to poke them in the left eye. Other acceptable forms of showing affection or distain include, clawing, scratching, and in extreme cases, biting. Biting can also be a way for toddlers to teach adults and other children valuable life lessons like, “If you are stupid enough to put you finger in someone’s mouth, don't be surprised when they bite it.”

Olympic Fever!

2008-08-12T11:29:00.000-07:00

I hope everyone was able to see the men’s 4x100 swim relay on Sunday. If not, you missed a classic example of why I love the Olympics. Any last second effort to take the gold is sweet. But when that last second surge also means beating the French and steeling their world record at the same time, well, I almost wept.

Now if you missed the match-up and the back-story, I now what you are thinking. “Wait a minute, the French were actually in contention for something at the Olympics?” I know! I was surprised as you were! The average person does not even know the French have an Olympic team. But they do! They are just usually more dominant in lesser known events like: snail eating, wine tasting, cheese-smelling (& smelling-like-cheese). They also hold several speed records in the events that involve surrendering, and they are the reigning “Ungrateful-that-you-saved us-from-the-Germans-twice” competition.

I have to tell you, when I heard the French had been talking trash about “Smashing” the Americans, I thought “Well good for France, manning up a little, talking a little jive and then getting whooped, rather than just getting whooped and saying nothing.” But then I heard that the French were actually the favorites to win the relay. This was shocking to me. And of course a long, sarcastic list of things I would expect them to be the favorites in came to mind. (But I won’t list them here, “Favored to show no heart in the finals” or here “Most likely to give in to terrorist demands”).

Regardless of what the commentators had to say, I just could not see the U.S. losing in anything, to the French. I didn’t care if the French were allowed to use jet-skis in the relay! Apparently my new hero Jason Lezak felt the same way as he ran down France’s #1 swimmer (whose name I have already forgotten), from behind, against all odds. And that is what I love about the Olympics and being an American; the fact that an unknown swimmer from the U.S., can out swim France’s finest just because he feels like it. That’s American know-how baby! Jason Lesak, my hat is off to you. And if you ever visit Cedar City Utah, dinner is on me.

And to all my French, former-readers; I bid you adieu and bon voyage, until the next time we are saving you from a foreign invader.

My Kid is Such a Liar

2008-08-06T18:49:00.000-07:00

Kids are liars. Anybody with children knows its true. And the only reason that we know they are lying because we remember all the lies we told as kids. I mean kids lie constantly, they are always telling lies. Rarely do they say anything that is true. "My tummy is full", "Yes I washed my hands", "I’ll tell you if I’m going to throw up". Lie, lie, lie! Like when your kid looks you straight in the face and explains how it was the family dog that drew anatomically correct stick figures in red crayon on the living-room wall. This may be a lie to you, but not to your child, he probably really believes what he is telling you! In his mind this explanation makes perfect sense. You give this kid a lie detector and he’s going to pass it every time! And really this is a fascinating phenomenon that we’ve yet to fully explain. Science can’t explain it people. The military has been trying for years to crack the "lying-kid code" and tap into its unlimited power.

In fact during WWII our government was working on ways to keep kids in that “child like” state until adult hood, and then turn them into spies and stuff, because it would be impossible to tell whether or not they were lying. This is true, they split all the kids up into groups called like: “Politicians ” “Attorneys” “Sales Persons”, and started honing their lying skills. But then the Cold War ended and the whole program went belly up, and they just cut bait and released these kids back into the general population.

You can imagine it must have been total pandemonium when it all hit the fan. There was one guy shredding documents, another opening the cages and shooing all these A-moral kids out of the building with a broom “Just let them go, just let them go!”. “Move it people, move it!, we’ve got to make it look like this never happened!”. “Hopefully they will just blend in”.

After that they erased the memories of everyone involved. That is why right now there are hundreds of defense lawyers wondering why they get that sad, lonely feeling when they are at the zoo. Their wives ask “What is it honey? Is something wrong?” “I, I don’t know Christine. There’s something about these cages, something familiar… something from a long-long time ago. But never mind that Christine, have I ever told you how I am willing to do anything, and I mean anything, to make a buck. For some reason lying has always come easy to me”.

Mutant Powers

2008-08-01T19:11:00.000-07:00

Have you ever watched a show about super heroes like "X Men" and wished you had some sort of super-human, mutant powers. If so I think I have some good news for you my friend.
Everyone has mutant powers. It's true, the problem is just that everybody we know has at least one or two of several basic powers. Like some people might have the mutant power of annoying people to death, but this power is basically useless here, because the same amount of people also have the mutant power of withstanding the really annoying people. By the time we reach annoyance levels that would normally be fatal, the two mutants have exhausted all their powers and canceled each other out. Seriously, mark my words, if they ever find life on other planets the aliens will be freaking out. They will be like, “You mean to tell me the there are people on your planet who talk and talk for hours at a time?” (Because on their planet that is like being able to breath under water or something) Then you’d be like “Oh yea that’s nothing, I’ve got all sorts of mutant powers. Like, I can eat my weight in potato chips in the course of just one of our earth years. I have the power to zone out my wife and 3 kids while I watch ESPN. Yea, it’s like they don’t even exist. Basically I make them disappear. I could go on and on.” Right now there some guy reading this getting all excited that this might really be true. Maybe he is even starting to hope that aliens really will invade. That guy is thinking to himself. “On what planet would a paralyzing fear of rejection be considered a super power?” Relax brother. All of this is just speculation. So do what you can now to move out of your mom’s basement. That’s never going to be a good thing. (Though I guess technically you actually are a mutant.)

No Solicitors!!!

2008-07-29T20:46:00.000-07:00

I want to say something about door-to-door salesmen, or any other person, (man, woman or child) who comes peddling their wares at my doorstep.

This entire practice is so contrary to everything I stand for and believe in. Not on a spiritual level mind you, but on a "not begging strangers to buy my crap" level.

Here is the bottom line for me. If I want some-thing, what ever it is.... I will go and buy it. If I want it and I haven't purchased it yet, that means I can't afford it. So when people come to my house and I open the door and it is clear that they are selling something, I already know I don't want it, or I don't need it, or I can't afford it. Even if they are selling some new, one of a kind item I've never heard about, I don't even know it exists yet, so I'm never going to miss it. And I'm better off not even knowing it's for sale.

I mean am I completely off base here? I mean are you ever just sitting at home on your couch wishing you had some frozen cookie-dough, or a more powerful vacuum, or 400 more channels of cable, and you feel completely helpless because "Where am I going to get cookie dough?" That stuff is not for sale anywhere I know of. There certainly don't seem to be any entire cooperations dedicated to its mass production and distribution (I'm obviously being sarcastic). Oh but wait, this cheer-leader wants sell me some sort of special cookie dough. At least it must be special because she wants $14.00 for like a handful of it. I'm looking at this girl, with a half eaten tube of Betty-Crocker chocolate chip cookie dough in my hand, that was like a buck fifty at Smith's and she knows she has met her match. That's right young lady, cooperate America and the Industrial Revolution beat you to it! Come back 50 years ago and maybe we'll talk.

Then there is the guy who as soon as you open the door says "Don't worry, I'm not trying to sell you anything." Oh really? Well are you here to tell me about someone who is selling something? Or are you here to tell me where I could buy a particular product if I felt so inclined? If that is the case my friend, just let me tell you up front. I got cheap, delicious cookie dough in the fridge, I have a fantastic vacuum in the closet and I don't watch much TV. So unless you are here looking to buy any of those items from me, just keep on movin'.

Back From Vacation!

2008-07-27T15:54:00.000-07:00

In case you were wondering why I had not been posting for the last several days, I was on vacation baby!

This past week I discovered the joy of cruising! Oh if only a younger more health conscious version of myself could have seen me go, he would have been horrified. But luckily, the newer, fatter, whiter, hairier version of me was able to enjoy every minute.

If I were my old self, writing a blog about my new self, (on the cruise) it would probably go something like this:

This week I was on a cruise were I encountered very few, if any attractive people. Among this throng of people, who eat too much and wear too little, one man in particular seemed to embody what cruising is all about.

The most striking characteristic of this person, who we will refer to as "Cruisin' Shea" were his chicken-like legs. Pencil thin and brilliant white, they were a sight to behold. Lucky for him, they were the perfect camouflage in the more crowded areas of the boat. From the waist down he was almost indistinguishable from most other cruisers (this includes the female cruisers from Europe).

Remember that scene from Tommy Boy with Chris Farley and David Spade, where David Spade's character tells Tommy boy that he can actually hear him getting fatter? Well, there was a point in the cruise when I could actually see Cruisin' Shea getting fatter, one steak, one pile of garlic potatoes, one fist-full of candy at a time. Had I been closer, I'm sure the sound would have been deafening.

I next saw Cruisin' Shea cheering and clapping like a developmentally-delayed 6-year-old at Sea World during the Shamu show. Nor did he show any signs of being an adult as he skipped and bounded from one attraction to another. "Oooh look at the dolphins! Look! Look! a stingray...Wow. I want to do this, I want to do that, come one, come on. Look at me! Take a picture!"

Okay, back to me being the present me.

Actually I have to admit the old me is pretty good at this blogging stuff (for a developmentally-delayed 17 year old.) But don't you worry about him. I have it on good authority that he turns out to be a fine person with a lot going for him (for a developmentally-delayed 28-year-old that is).

Proposed Rule Change for the Gym # 2

2008-07-10T14:57:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was at the gym getting huge, when I realized I was going to need to make some additions to my customized gym rules that I posted earlier. Allow me to explain how I knew this.

So there I am, minding my own business, not looking at my wife every 30 second to see if she was checking me out, when I all of a sudden noticed something a little strange… One of the prettiest pretty boys that works out around my same schedule was standing off to the side of me, making small talk with another “fancy lad” and I sort of did a double take. I was looking at him and thinking like, what is wrong with this picture? Then it hit me and I was like, is… is that an outfit he’s wearing?…. And it was an outfit! A real weightlifting outfit! Well this was just unprecedented. I don’t think I had ever seen anyone (any male) no matter how pretty or vain actually wearing a honest to goodness outfit to the gym before. Girls can wear all the outfits they want, but for man to wear an outfit? The reality here is that he would have to plan for it and purchase it one piece at a time.

Now I know there are skeptics out there saying, “what makes you the authority on outfits?” or “how could you tell it really was an outfit?” Well smart-A I will tell you how I know it was in fact, an outfit!

First of all he was wearing shorts that were white with green highlights, now how many of you even own shorts with green on them? The shorts also had some blue, just enough to match the thick headband he was wearing around his spiked up hair…. That’s right, I am not making any of this up… A Blue Thick Head Band + Spiked Hair. Does anyone wear a thick headband of any color to the gym? Anyways back to my story. He was also wearing a green cutoff that matched the shorts EXACTLY.

So to recap: Blue head band, bright green cutoff t-shirt and shorts that serve as the core of the whole get-up… Not enough for you? Still doubting me? Well you forgot about one little detail….. His shoes! Isn’t there a saying that “shoes complete the outfit?” Well guess what color his shoes were? That’s right… White, with Bright Green Highlights. I don’t know about you, but I have never even seen white shoes with green highlights. Are you going to stand there and tell me that all of this was just a coincidence? Well then you my friend are in what those of us in the Mental Health profession call “Outfit Denial”.

But for those of you who are not deniers of the truth, I submit this additional rule for the Gym: Rule #6 Anyone wanting to claim the status of “male” on their gym membership, will be asked to refrain from wearing “Outfits” to workout in.*

(*If you have to ask if what you’re wearing qualifies as an outfit, it is an outfit!)

The Renaissance Fair

2008-07-09T09:50:00.000-07:00

Today I was on my way to work and I saw that the Renaissance Fair was in town… Oh Joy of Joys!. For those of you who don’t know what a Renaissance Fair is, let me explain it in plain terms. The “Ren Fair” (as the die-hards call it) is sort of like a carnival, but without any rides, and all the carnies are dressed like Medieval peasants, warriors, knights, princesses, kings, etc. Either way the basic principle is the same… Travel from town to town, fair to fair, basically camping out, not showering for days on end, surviving mainly on stick-mounted-foods such as corn-dogs and candied-apples.

The whole carnie lifestyle is just the first issue that I have with these Ren Fair people. The other is the fact that they are in a Renaissance Fair! Don’t be fooled, this is not some eloquent theme related to Shakespeare or any other form of high-art. This is exactly how they trick you into coming into the fair in the first place. Imagine a young mother with her children in tow, excited about providing her kids with a little culture. She goes to the fair expecting to see Maypole dances and hear music from the lute and lire. Maybe she can buy some tarts or crumpets for her wee little ones. But soon she will realize that this so-called Renaissance Fair consists of nothing more than 25 broadsword vendors, 10 armor makers and endless hand made jewelry booths, all of which are selling incense to cover up the smell of marijuana that is being bought, sold and consumed at an alarming rate. (Lets not forget about the corn-dog/candied-apple stand!) Then she also notices that every person there is dressed in Medieval garb (to say they are “dressed up” or "dressed like" would imply that they have normal clothes somewhere, that they usually wear, which sadly is not the case). Just before she leaves she might also unwittingly discover that none of these sweaty, poorly kept people are wearing any sort of undergarments. (No undergarments in Medieval times you know). If only she had known this before buying tickets to the cartwheel contest... Goooo!!!

P.S. Check out the freakin' centaur at the top of this post. Ten bucks says he made that suit himself. Ten more says he's been wearing it since just before his divorce. But hey, a centaur's gotta do, what a centaur's gotta do right!

(Originally I referred to the pic above as a "minotaur" but one of our readers pointed out that it was actually a centaur. There is a difference and ignoring it would be the medieval equivalent of modern day bigotry)

Starbuck's

2008-06-27T11:09:00.000-07:00

Where can a want-to-be intellectual sit with his/her Mac-Powerbook and look relaxed yet busy, important yet approachable, smart yet stupid, all while sipping on a $6.00 cup of $1.00 coffee? Why, Starbuck’s, that’s where!

Every now and again I will tag along with my work buddies to this Mecca of left-wing deep thinkers. I admit I am impressed with the service and selection (Starbuck’s sales lots more than coffee), but I am always disappointed with the laptop toting, New York Times reading, smart-wool wearing, deep issue discussing posers that come out of the woodwork to be seen at Starbuck’s. You can always listen in on their conversations:

“Now Chloe, tell me that this Mint-Chip-Chino is not simply marvelous! Say it, say its marvelous!”

“Well Roger and I attended the most splendid round cribbage last evening, and I’m afraid the combination of watercress and Shato-Brion has run me aground.”

“Were you able to catch last nights reading of Dickens? Oh Charly, if only you were still around. Heavens knows this place could use a bit of wit and wisdom.”

“Dear me! What are we going to do with all of these starving babies? Donald, just look at these starving babies!”

On a rare occasion, you can also listen in on some of my brief conversations:

“Hey weird guy in the girl shorts, hand me the comic section and stop sitting like that.”

“$2.50 for a doughnut? Never mind.”

“Why does this bench smell like duct-tape?”

“Yes, watercress and Shato-Brion also runs me aground… That and most cheeses, if you catch my drift amigo."

The One-Liner

2008-06-26T13:37:00.000-07:00

(A brief lame statement, loosely geared towards humor that requires only a brief response)

Oh the one-liner. Humanities weapon of last resort when combating an awkward silence. This is basically a way of letting someone know, that you don’t yet consider them a friend, but have moved passed the stage of mere recognition. Long gone are the days of a brief head nod or a hand gesture followed by a half-hearted “what’s up”. No no no, now you’ve entered the dreaded realm of the casual acquaintance. Once you have entered this no-man’s-land of human interaction, there is no escape. You can only move forward to real conversations, or cut all ties completely. Each time you see this person, you have a decision to make. “Do I use a lame one-liner, or do I actually engage them in meaningful conversation?” You see them there, at the store, the gym, the game and you start to stumble over your words. Your lips move but no sound is coming out. Should you sake hands, high-five, make a comment about a relevant topic? Quick something, anything, you are almost to walk by!.!.!…. Then you hear your self say it “Hey stranger, long time, no see.” And against their better judgment they reply, “Tell me about it.”

And really, what else were they going to say?

“Boy, I guess they will let anyone in here.” – “Tell me about it”

“So you finally decided to show up to the gym huh” – “Tell me about it”

“Man, you are even uglier than the last time I saw you” – “Tell me about it”

“Hey, we figured you got lost on the way here” – “Tell me about it”

The list goes on and on. Real one-line abusers have endless lame statements they can call upon when needed, rather than making real conversation. The problem with this is that you might be sucked into their web of endless banter. These people can be seen making their way through a crowded room, using a different zinger for every person there. So choose your response carefully. Once you zing back, you’re in for life.

Here are some suggestions for avoiding this senseless cycle. Lets use the examples from above:

Someone says, “Boy, I guess they’ll let anyone in here.” You say, “That’s true, but I wish they would ban minorities and women”

“So you finally decided to show up to the gym huh.” – You say “Yes, my wife is cheating on me so I need to get into shape to beat the other guy to death”

“Man, you are even uglier than the last time I saw you.” – You say, “I think your daughter is hot! ”

"Hey, we figured you got lost on the way over" - You say, "We once got lost as kids, three of us starved to death before they found us."

Just a suggestion.

Proposed Rule Changes For The Gym

2008-06-19T13:33:00.003-07:00

This year my New-Year’s resolution was to get back into shape. This involved actually attending the Gym where I have had a pass for two years. Now, you may not know this, but, I tend to get a little irritated with people at random times and for reasons that would not really matter to other people. Nevertheless!, Despite my best efforts, when I am at the gym, I find myself watching people without even knowing it, hearing people without trying, and most unfortunate of all, Smelling people who obviously can’t smell themselves.

With that brief stroll through history behind us, I would like to look forward to the future and explore what could very well be the solution to all my gym-based problems.

I would like to submit the following list of rules that I think should apply to every gym in America (or at least to any gym where I might be found). This is just a preliminary sketch mind you, but I think the overall idea really captures the essence of what I am trying to achieve. Try to imagine this list posted above the entry way in large, but friendly letters.

Rule #1

All patrons must leave their cell phones in their vehicles or be subject to having that same phone ripped out of their hands, mid-conversation and smashed bitterly against the nearest concrete surface.

Rule #2

When you are inside the gym, please refrain from chatting with friends, striking up conversations, hitting on chicks, lying about your life outside the gym, talking to me, using lame one-liners (my next post will be about one-liners), or any other sort of ongoing communication designed to get you out of actually working out.

Rule #3

Attention: All giant, meat-headed jocks with cut-off t-shirts, inflated self-esteems, outdated heavy metal music and bad haircuts, before beginning your workout, check to see if Shea is already working out. If he is, you will need to leave.

Rule #4

Women will be prohibited from wearing a) weightlifting gloves, b) weightlifting belts, c) Headphones that are from the 80’s and have an antenna sticking out of them. Women will also be asked to not “pump iron” as if they were a Russian power-lifter.*

*(It has come to our recent attention that men are sickened by the sight of a sweaty woman, benching twice her own body weight, grunting and straining, struggling for breath, and roaring like a angry Viking after each rep.)

Rule #5

If you are a person who produces a pungent rotting-flesh like smell when you sweat; please have the common decency to either wear a ridiculous amount of deodorant or to workout in some sort of NASA designed/approved space suit.

Thank you, the management.

Fanatics

2008-06-13T15:37:00.000-07:00

Attention: Sports fanatics, fanatic sport-parents, hunting (huntin’) fanatics, multi-level marketing fanatics, religious fanatics, health fanatics, environmental fanatics and 18 inch lift-on-my-giant-truck fanatics; read no further.

For the rest of you, read on and enjoy a good laugh at the expense of these poor soles.

I know a lot of people in this world that are fanatics of one sort or another. I also see a lot of fanatics from day to day. I make a special point of avoiding these people. I avoid them so I won’t have to add them to my “Known Fanatic” list. I also avoid them so I won’t have to hear their endless babblings about whatever bandwagon they have blindly jumped onto. But mostly I avoid them because I find these sorts of people unimaginably annoying.

Above I listed some of the more prominent groups of fanatics. There are of course, dozens, if not hundreds more that we could list. However, I think for the sake of time we will just focus on a few who’s uncompromising commitment to their craft, makes them an easy target for those of us still living in reality.

1. The Fanatic Sport Parent:

Nothing says “I am a loser trying to relive my glory days”, (or trying to make up for a lack thereof) like a parent, red faced and screaming from the sidelines or the stands; carrying on about poor calls, bad plays, cheap shots etc. My absolute favorite is the has-been or never-was that will sit and openly berate the children on the opposing team, with their parents in plain earshot. “You suck number 15” “Take his head off Chet!, he’s a sissy!” “Let the baby have his bottle!”.

All of this could be taking place at a high school basketball game, or at an Easter Egg Hunt. The true sports fanatic will become over involved and over invested in anything that might be seen as competitive. Projecting their insecurities onto the world and their unfortunate kids is how these parents deal with their own shortcomings.

To you the fanatic sport parent, I say “You Suck!” And I put you at the top of the list.

2. Hunting or Huntin’ Fanatics:

Some day if I rule the world, or at least a small portion of it, I am going to collect and burn all things camouflage, and watch this group of bad-English-talkin’ morons scramble like chimpanzees in a banana famine. “What will we wear? What will we cover our truck-seats with? What color of shirts will we print lame hunting slogans on?”

Panic would ensue, countless cans of beer would be spared, countless lies would go untold, proper English would be spoken, wives and other intelligent people everywhere would rejoice.

3. Multi-Level Marketing Fanatics: (Warning, don’t read this if you have every tried to get me to sign up for any multi-level scam. Seriously, you are going to get mad, and when you confront me about it, I’m not going to pretend to care or to be sorry.)

If I were to write a book about why America Hates multi-level marketers, the title would have to be pretty long out of pure descriptive necessity. It would read:

Falling for the same stupid trick time after time because I wanted to believe I could make easy money and get rich quick;
The story of how I tried to sell out my friends and family for personal gain and shameless greed.

Catchy, don’t you think? (I would love to hear your title suggestions. Just click on the comment button below. Please note that all comments are open to the public.)

Now I’m not trying to say that all multi-level business plans are bad; just every one that I’ve ever dealt with or heard of. Look, everyone makes mistakes, if you have ever been involved with this sort of scam, it’s not too late to come back. You can still get a real job, work hard and pull your weight like the rest of the world. However, just in case you are still convinced you have found that one sure thing and it’s only a matter of time before you are making bank for doing nothing, let me take this opportunity to tell you a little secret. (Imagine me saying this to you in a whisper) You won’t get rich or make any money for that matter. Neither will anyone you lie to and trick into signing up... But most importantly, (Now imagine me yelling this in your face) don’t waste your or my time by telling me about it.

P.S. I also predict the Lakers will lose to the Celtics and Kobe Bryant will never reach the finals again.

Buffet Style Food

2008-05-29T20:01:00.000-07:00

Approximately 9 hours ago, I again made the mistake of eating at a Chinese buffet, and I can still feel it turning over in my stomach, refusing to digest. Why won't it digest you ask? Probably because my body is trying to reject it like it would any other poison. I make this mistake about every 2 or 3 years. Why? I don't know. Right now I am not interested in talking about why I eat buffet food every 3 years. I am more interested in trying to understand people who eat it on a regular basis, willingly.

First, lets identify buffets for what they really are. Instead of a sign that says "Something Buffet". There might more accurately be a sign that says "This establishment features food that is both cheap enough and that lasts long enough, for us to sell it to you for the price of a regular food, that is safe to eat." Or something close to that.

I think the reason folks eat these human slop-troughs has to do with the presentation.
The marquee that says "All you can eat, $7.50". "Ohhh Maannn! All I can eat! How can I go wrong? Lets hit it and hit it hard!" Now what if I came up to you and said, "Hey man, give me $7.50 and you can go inside here and eat day old, greasy, room temperature food. All of which is indistinguishable from the other prison/military/Ernest Goes to Camp-type garbage in the next bin, and the next, and the next, (you get the idea). You would probably decline and might even begin to back up slowly and then gradually turn and run in the other direction. This is actually the safest most logical reaction you can have when you come face to face with the temptation to eat/feed at a buffet.

One final thought. Today, as I sat hunched over my plate, like a man being punished for and by the very act he was then committing, (What?, don't worry about it) I notice people loading up there plates as if it was one trip only. I wanted to ask, "You know its all you can eat right? So... are you loading up because you are afraid it will all be gone when you come back? (Its never gone) Or, are you afraid your heart (or entire body) might just give out from the horrendous abuse you are subjecting it to, before you can reload?" Neither answer is better than the other, but it is something to ponder.

American Gladiators!!!

2008-05-28T15:07:00.001-07:00

A few days ago my 4 year old and I stumbled across this little nugget of jaw dropping stupidity. And yet - I sat there watching every minute. Even after my 4 year old figured out that it was beneath him and lost interest, I stayed glued, unable to turn away. This show is just bad enough to keep you interested. The characters are so lame, but at the same time so serious. It's like Wrestle-Mania and Cirque Du Soleil got together and had some underdeveloped love-child.

At the heart of the show are the "Gladiators". Each one with a different theme an back story. The most painful of all of these to watch (and that's saying something) is bizarre fellow pictured above who calls himself "The Wolf". Where to start, where to start. Oh yes. Well, The Wolf apparently believes he is a real wolf of some sort and that he is actually hunting and killing the contestants. He has fangs and howls before or during each event to strike fear into the heart of his prey.

The following is taken Wolf's Bio on the AG website:

"When you enter Gladiator Arena keep an eye out for Wolf! Able to smell fear and always going for the jugular, Wolf is 230-pounds of primal fury. He will ferociously defend his turf... and thrives on the opportunity to sink his teeth into any challenge."

Oh I'll keep an eye out alright. The last thing I need is 230 pounds of "primal fury" bearing down on me... ferociously. No thank you Sir!

I encourage everyone within the sound of my voice to visit the AG website to check for local listings. I would love to know what you thought about the show.

P.S. Check out this video for a better understanding of just how dangerous "The Wolf" really is.

http://www.nbc.com/American_Gladiators/video/#mea=250489

Wal-Mart, You Inspire Me

2008-05-27T12:48:00.000-07:00

Nearly every time I step into a Wal-Mart, I find my imagination wandering. For instance...
The other day when I was at Wal-Mart, I saw a lady buying an entire season of "Walker-Texas Ranger". And I thought to myself, I wonder what sort of conversation(s) this woman is having with her husband as they watch Chuck roundhouse his way out of one dangerous situation after another. "Oooh, look out Walker! Roundhouse him!" Better yet, roundhouse him in slow-motion!!! "Boy, Walker always waits until all hope is lost to break out that roundhouse."

Then I started wondering what else she had wasted money on that month. ?.? The following list of obvious answers came to mind:
1. A turquoise bracelet, in-laid with last years elk ivories.
2. A camouflage vest for their pure-bred Blue Heeler.
3. Front row tickets to an Oakridge Boys, tribute-band concert at the
lions club.
4. A can of premium mustache wax.
5. And last but not least, a month supply of TV dinners (We've got a whole season of Walker to get through!)