Tributes!

Chase Squires opined that I was pretty safe in offering four commenter tributes, as that is pretty much the number of commenters I can count on. Well, pffft! I got five commenters. Okay, I grant you there was a surprise lurker to bring the total to five, but, of course, any number of others might've logged in, but, you know, didn't on account of the game already being "locked" and all. So, here we go:

Chase was actually harder to shop for than I figured. "Chase" yielded a couple of decent possibilities, and I briefly (very briefly) considered a chase from the Benny Hill Show. Nah. "Squires" gave a fair number of hits, and I seriously considered a Spiderman 3 clip set to the tune of Billy Squiers' The Stroke. It was actually pretty neat, but didn't feel right. I know Chase likes Paperbird, and flirted with a couple of their videos. No, not the right theme. Well, while Chase is far from a one-trick pony, it is fair to say he runs a little. A hunnerd K here, a hunnerd miler there. That sort of thing. Probably he has tons of running songs already. The Distance? Oh, THAT'S original. Not. Anyway, I found a video with a running theme and a heart-beat rhythmn and an interesting series of clips, so I went with it (though I really liked No Doubt's "Running", too).



Good to hear from John. John's witty, seems fun, and I check his blog regularly. I'd wondered where he went off to. Johnny Cash? Nah. Jimmy Dean's "Big John"? No, the sausage king doesn't deserve the affiliation. David Bowie's always been one of my favorites, and the following is Bowie at his glam-rocking peak. Hope you like it.



Sunny48? I think I know who you be. You picked the moniker, so there is really only one song, isn't there? Bobby Hebb's Sunny is a nice song, but his version doesn't look as good on video as James Brown's. And he was from South Carolina, too.



Amy did beat Andy, but she graciously allowed the Amazing AndyMan to share her tribute. They actually have quite a bit in common. They're both competitive. Both run. Both coach cross-country. Hmmm? I've never seen them in a room together either, now that I think about it. Oh, and they both teach. Well, that settles it (and it allows me to post one of my all-time favorite songs).

The People's Choice

The people have spoken: Adolph has put the wood to Vanilla Ice (and Justin Timberlake and Jim Carrey). By a resounding 2 to 1 margin, the Hitler version of Ice, Ice, Baby went through the competition like, well, Hitler through France. Woulda posted another Hitler parody (there are tons of 'em. Thought about the "Born to Be Alive" one, but the irony was too much even for me), but thought the evil dude has already gotten two many extra sets of 15 minutes of infamy. Alright, for my next trick, I'll post video tributes to the first four people to comment.

i-Pod, u-Pod, we All-Pod

The Lads get an allowance. By alternate weeks, one takes out the trash, the other feeds the dogs and cat. They don't always do their chores, but with allowances you make allowances. The Lads announced that they wanted me to raid the savings accounts into which their swag has been deposited to purchase i-Pods. Seems they want to take a more active role in ignoring their teachers. So, Saturday we pay respects at the real temple of the rural South, Walmart, and drop a few of the twins' barely earned ducats for a couple i-Pod Shuffles. The Nanos will undoubtedly follow, whenever they know more than fourteen songs to download. New sets of parent moments will ensue: "If I can hear it, it's too loud!" Response: "What?"; "No, you may not listen to Metallica in Church!" Resolution: Tyler removed the earbuds when the Procession started; "No, you may not take your i-Pod to school" Resolution: "You may take your i-Pod to school". Sigh. Keep on Rockin' in the Free World.

Separated at Birth (Three)

Crumpled-looking, apparently harmless guy has just one more point- it's probably nothing- he has to make before leaving. The people to whom he is talking just wish he'd go away. As if. Hmmm. Haven't seen them in a room together, either.

Do You Walk to School, or Carry Your Lunch?

Got a little help on today's post. The title is a perennial favorite absurd question from my brother, the Amazing AndyMan. The You-Tube offering is a variation on the infamous Zombie Turtle Boy (as opposed to Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) sent to me by my friend Amy. It amused me. I hope it also amuses you.

Iraq = Kosovo?

Starting out, I'll tell you that I'm not generally a "big picture" guy. I figure that if I'm going to make any difference on this celestial ball, it's going to be one person at a time- people, not policies. Oh, sure, I pay attention to what's going on; I vote; and I used to be quasi-political, but only on a local and State level. I have been blessed to not have to go to any war (though I did have a brief stint in Marine OCS. I'm a lot of things, but a Marine is not one of them. Took them a few weeks to figure it out, but they ultimately did figure that out). With our volunteer military, I guess I don't have to worry about any of my four offspring being dragged into combat against their will, but all of us ought to care about whether any given conflict is good policy. Oh, and I definitely support our troops. No life lived heroically and with valor is a waste, but the policies that put our brave men and women in harm's way always ought to be carefully scrutinized.

I always felt that the U.S. invasion and occupation of Afghanistan was justified and necessary, but I'm not a fan of the war in Iraq. Not so much anymore, but there was a stretch of time when I heard folks analogize the Iraq war with the Viet Nam conflict. Apparently, the "surge" has done some good, and we are undoing some of the damage we'd done by invading Iraq in the first place. So, unlike Viet Nam, we may actually be able to stay in Iraq for as long as we want. But to what end? Hearts and minds? That hasn't worked very well in the past. So, really, what are we trying to get done? When will we know our job there is finished? I kinda thought that our intervention in Kosovo was a good thing. Maybe it was. But, as I trolled the internet, I found the following blog posting from a dude in Russia:

http://ishmaelite.blogspot.com/2008/02/jatras-on-kosovo.html

Apparently, all Hell is breaking loose there, several years after our mission there was essentially accomplished. Churches are being destroyed (no, not the chicken joints). Islamic terrorists might have a new entry point into Europe.



Is Iraq going to look like Kosovo in nine years? What's Kosovo going to look like? Or Rwanda? Or Darfur? We don't have enough people or money to take care of all the world's problems. So, what do we do? I'm not running for any national office right now, so I don't have to pretend to have an answer. But any of the folks that are running for president better.

SpongeBobMobile

Funny things happen to normally sane men when they fall head-long out of their fourth decade of living and into... the decades that follow. In 2000, the fortieth anniversary of the birth of Bill and Lydia's oldest son (er, that would be me), I quit a secure (if somewhat dull) job as County Attorney advising a small county on ordinances and doing a little bit of trial and appellate work, to go into solo private practice, ran for the Statehouse (I lost by about 150 votes out of about 15,000 cast), and got separated after about 14 years of marriage, and later divorced. 2001 I mostly pouted. In 2002, within the span of six or seven months following the 42nd anniversary of my birth, I, in order: ripped the tendon in my right biceps off of the bone while playing flag-football, bought a yellow mustang convertible, ran the Jacksonville marathon with my friend Cathy, and had surgery to re-attach my biceps.

My amazing Ultra-Runner brother, AndyMan met me in Jax. I asked him what he thought of my ride. He looked at me the way you are supposed to look at a 42 year old dude who has just bought a car marketed for 18 year old Marine recruits, and told me it was the ugliest car he'd ever seen. I told him its name was SpongeBob, owing to its color, and the SpongeBob airfreshener I had hanging from my mirror (We finished the marathon, by the way, though they timed me with a calendar). I went back home and got the surgery that I might should've gotten before the marathon. After my surgery, I asked the surgeon if I could play football again. He looked at me like you are supposed to look at a 42 year old dude who asks if he can still play football, and recommended golf. I don't think he liked the SpongeBobMobile either. But they love it at the Waffle House.

Ice, Ice Smackdown

AndyMan requested it. I can't say I totally approve, but I'm nothing if not accommodating. It's Ice, Ice, Baby. We have several versions for your viewing pleasure: the original (okay, Bowie and Queen would doubtless beg to differ); Jim Carey's parody; Justin Timberlake's dance-fest; and, a special guess from beyond the grave. Vote early and often (remember, from the Gospel According to Vanilla Ice: Anything less than the best is a felony).

New Fitness Regimen- Nice, Nice, Baby

AndyMan, Chase, all you other Ultra-Runners out there: Hard work is for suckers. Kate, Amy: dietary restrictions? I don't think so! I'm going for the Grand Funk Railroad cut and paste work out. Check out these immediate results:












No Pain, No Kidding.













Okay, I have actually been running a bit. It's not so easy, Coach. Getting rid of many months worth of cheeseburgers and shaking off the rampant sloth is no mean feat (as opposed to Chase's peds which are mean feet. Or the bottom part of a sundial, which I guess would be gnomon feet). I've said I'm going to run the Kiawah Marathon in December, and I will do so, but Jeez, Louise, it's rocky going from a one or two mile a week base.

Separated at Birth (two)

Ever see them in a room together?

I didn't think so.

If Flava Flav didn't exist, Dr. Seuss would have to invent him.

All In The Family - Edith's Problem 1-3

Because You Should Have Your Cake, and Edith, Too.

I love cake. Really, I do. I also like classic t.v. Remember All in the Family? Pretty tame by today's standards, but ground breaking when it came out in, what was it? 1970? Carroll O'Connor as Archie Bunker, Sally Struthers, Rob Reiner, and of course, Jean Stapleton as Edith. So now you can enjoy two totally unrelated pieces. Just for the Hell of it.

Shat Happens

The people have spoken. William. Shatner. Has. Won. Yes, the Shat beat the pulp out of... Pulp. In the battle for the Common People, William Shatner's version edged out Pulp's. The Pulp nearly beat the (shut yo' mouth! What? Just talkin' about Shat! Damn Straight!). Oh, it was close: 7 to 5, but in the end, Shat rose to the top.

Good Guard

Anyone who knows me or my amazing Ultra-Running Brother, AndyMan, ought not to be surprised that not playing sports when we were growing up was never an option. I was going through some boxes of stuff this morning, and stumbled on some old pictures. The intimidating lad in the Tampa Pee Wee League Vikings uniform is me when I was, I don't know, 12 or 13? There's a nearly identical picture of AndyMan somewhere. I'm guessing he has it. The dashing young man in sepia is "Wild" Bill Mathews, circa 1948 suited up for the Natrona County, Wyoming, Mustangs. He used to tell us he was honorable mention all-state as an offensive guard. Offensive guard seems to be a particular Mathews' curse. Dad was a guard. Andy and I were guards. My oldest son got the coach's award at Thomas Heyward Academy as... you guessed it, a guard. Caroline doesn't play football, but she has a nice shot in basketball, and can hit the ball a ton in softball. At least she could, before she discovered boys. Sigh. Anyway, the twins give me some hope of breaking the guard caste: they've been playing at defensive tackle. I couldn't find any sports pictures with Andy in them, so I put in a couple from the days when we were very nearly "society children". Sadly, society children, if they play football, are generally quarterback. Of course, Harvard needs guards too, I guess.

Go, Granny, Go!

Q: What is the difference between a Mercedes convertible and a porcupine?

A: With a porcupine, the prick's on the outside.

Happy Valentine's Day

Ronald McDonald Reads the Funnies

When I was a kid growing up in Tampa, there was a UHF show called "Ronald McDonald Reads the Funnies" (for you young whipper-snappers, UHF was pre-cable t.v. You had two channel knobs: two through 13 on the main dial, which is where you got your three network stations (ABC, CBS, and NBC); then you had the UHF dial that had a few channels, mostly devoted to public broadcasting, local t.v. and other pretty sorry-ass t.v. (except for Creature Feature with Dr. Paul Bearer). A remote, at the time, was when you could get someone else to turn the knob).




Anyway, Ronald would read the comics from the papers to the television on Sunday morning. I haven't seen Ronald reading the funnies in a long, long time. And, increasingly, it's getting difficult to find Sunday funnies, with or without Ronald. Newspapers, I've heard, are getting their butts kicked by the internet. Well, by golly, I get the Charleston Newspaper. It's because I'm a sentimental fellow (and the dude was giving out Walmart gift cards!). I do love the comics, but only recently have I bothered with the "wordy" ones. I decided to read "Mark Trail", pictured above. Conservation piece, I figured. Well, if you can't read the frames, click on the picture, and you should be able to. I'll wait. ... Finished? Good. Am I imagining things, or is Mark asking us to eat beavers? Well, that ought to get the circulation up, anyway.

We Are Sophomoric!

Here's the thing about entertaining adolescents: they like adolescent humor. I do too, of course (coarse?) because I'm, well, a guy; however, like white chocolate, a little goes a long way. The lads had worked hard on their homework and made some progress on their science fair project (Taylor, pictured at left, demostrates a principle of permeability in potatoes), and I thought they deserved a break, so I took them to the half mile to the Boro's sole movie theater to see "Meet the Spartans".

I was aware that it starred Carmen Electra and Kevin Sorbo, so I wasn't expecting, you know, acting. The beautiful thing about having no expectations is that it's really hard to be disappointed. Diedrich Bader- he of The Drew Carey Show and Whose Line is it Anyway?- was actually pretty watchable as the aptly named Traitorus. And who doesn't like seeing a kindly Granny and her tough little Spartan grand in a slug-fest? Okay, that was rhetorical. I feel quite certain there are people who would not enjoy watching that- just none who would be at "Meet the Spartans".

The best part of the whole experience? The lads' reaction. "It was pretty good. I guess a seven and a half. Those kinds of movies are... a little much". Now, I'm down with that.

Been Taking a Beating

I ran two miles on Saturday outside of the Great Swamp Sanctuary. I got dissed by a bird. It was not the trash-talk that seagulls will give you at the beach, but the supercillious dismissive look of a hawk. It was a fairly impressive creature, about a foot tall, sitting on a branch under which I passed (the branch is pictured, but the hawk is my rather lame attempt to cut and past your standard internet hawk onto the branch. Anyway, you get the idea). He didn't have the decency to fly away as I ran under him. He just cocked his fowl head at me and gave me the kind of look that my mother would give me if I'd spelled an easy word incorrectly, or put my elbows on the table. Okay, I look silly now, bird, but just you wait. In a couple of months...

To compound the indignity, my lads have been kicking my butt in basketball. I'll grant you, they cheat. Their brand of basketball is very similar to my own, at age 12: more football than basketball. One grabs my legs, while the other shoots. When I shoot, it's with one or both of them hanging from my shoulders. I still hang with them, but I'm starting to take a beating. Fouls? You see any refs? I didn't think so.

Pulp - Common People

The Shat sings Common People

The Shat vs. Pulp. Two walk in; one walks out. You decide.

All a Matter of Scale(s)

Latest A.C.L.U. suit: representing a prisoner who says the prison walls aren't built to scale. Okay, not that funny. Anyway, scale is important. So are scales. I went to the doctor yesterday for a nagging cough. He Rx-d me some antibiotics, as I reckoned he would. The only painful part of the visit was my step up onto the scales. I have long contended that doctors' scales lie, but even subtracting a couple of pounds for the severe scale (and I had my shoes on), the verdict was harsh: 244 American pounds.

The doctor's a runner. He's planning on running Kiawah Island marathon in December. "Maybe I'll do that", I tell him. He looked at me skeptically. I'm not a healthy life-style sort of fellow. I'm more of a "fight to pressure" sort of fellow. The dude doesn't think I can do it. So I have to do it.

I started today. My pace was a frenetic 11 minute mile pace. About the same as my brother. Of course, he spreads his runs over ninety-nine more of them than I did. But the scale is good.

Rabbit of Seville

Quaker Jono's blog, which frequently visit, had a couple of posts on operas. I'm not a huge opera fan, but remember the Barber of Seville (as posted above).

Why is This Man Smiling? (Stupid Signs 4)

Why is this man smiling?

Oh. That's why.

Being Ernie Bushmiller

Not to be confused with the notorious bushmaster, pictured at left, Ernie Bushmiller needs his props. Before X-Men comics, there was "Nancy". I'm still not totally convinced that Ernie doesn't deserve the credit (blame?) for the marriage of my amazing brother, AndyMan, to his current ex-wife, Nancy.

In real life, Nancy would get Sluggo's money.

Exes and Axes. Separated by only one letter. Coincidence?

Actually, both AndyMan and I am blessed with very understanding exes. Probably they got worse exes than we did.

Wow!

What is he, like, 107? Tom Petty still rocks. He rocked when I was attending Alphonso P. Leto Comprehensive High School in the late 1970's. He rocked when I took my future BabyMomma to see him in Tampa in 1985. He rocked when I took my oldest son and my daughter to see him in Atlanta last year. And he totally rocked in this year's Superbowl half-time show. The Righteous Brothers sang "Rock and Roll Heaven" many moons ago. I'm thinking that Tom Petty, the Stones, Tom Jones, and Bob Dylan could populate the rockingest nursing home of all time. The half-time show was great. Oh, and the game wasn't too bad, either.

...

Been a bit agitated of late. I don't know why. I usually don't. Been surly. The lads asked about Easter candy. I told them I'd shot the Easter Bunny, and not to expect much. Relax. At twelve, they were amused, not mortified. Still, I gots to get to feeling better.

Surely it would help if I didn't feel like:

I'll try to pound the pavement tomorrow. Couldn't hurt (well, maybe a little).

I know I've got to change my gustatory ways. Got to quit:

Will it help? I'll let you know.