Friday, March 12, 2010

Curling and the Suspension of Disbelief

I know two facts:

1. Curling is absolutely ridiculous.

2. I absolutely love curling.

The surprising thing is that apparently I am unable to know both those facts at the same time. Let me explain.

First off: Curling. I don’t think I stand a chance of explaining curling properly. That is the job of Wikipedia: Other people explaining stuff with the air of authority so that I don’t have to. But, to give you a quick overview, curling is a “sport” that was added to the Olympics as a demonstration event in 1998, but now is officially recognized with medals. A team of four people engage in what amounts to ice shuffleboard, using 42 lb. granite rocks, with the added complexity of brooms to sweep the ice. I don’t fully understand the brooms, but it results in having the team skip screaming, “hard hard hard hard hard” at the other, while the sweepers work with a cleaning frenzy that is both admirable and comical.

The name itself comes from the fact that the players are able to get the stones to curl and bend around each other on the ice, allowing the best players to almost magically place the stone into the tightest pockets and stop them on a dime. I have yet to see anyone make a stone hook around and travel back the way it came, but I keep watching hopefully.

So, this Olympic season, I was watching curling (and loving it) and my wife came in and sat down and started pointing out how ridiculous it is. I was uncontrollably and immediately jarred back into reality – it was like getting hit with a bucket of cold water. I had been sitting on the sofa a minute prior, absolutely loving watching the match, and here I was having the inanity of the sport pointed out in full and careful detail. And the shocking thing I realized is that everything that she was saying was stuff that I would (or have) said about curling.

I had always fooled myself into thinking that I was this incredibly rational being, who, while enjoying watching curling, still appreciated the ridiculous nature of it. I was just watching the sport ironically. But the reality is that that, in the moment, you really love the things you love, regardless how ridiculous they are. The same thing happens with good action movies with over-the-top action plots and with video games that are capable of constructing completely fleshed-out alternate worlds. Sure, after the movie, you turn to your friend and say, “Yeah, that part where they ducked underneath that pinwheeling car? Pshaw!” But during the movie? You’re saying, “DUCK!!! YEAH!!!” And you really mean it, both times.

So, unfortunately, I realized I am guilty of doing the exact same thing (throwing the metaphorical bucket of cold water to trigger disbelief) when my wife is catching up on her soaps or a movie on Lifetime. So, I make the following promise. “I will stop trying to guess who is going to die in the next Nicholas Sparks movie and will quit pointing out that General Hospital spends very little time in a hospital and should actually be General Mafia. In return, please willingly ignore the glaring stupidity of the “sport” I choose to watch. And if you are extra nice, I will try to explain the new free guard zone rules.

Friday, February 5, 2010

Casserole Dish, I Curse You.

There is a glass casserole dish that is currently the bane of my existence. OK, well, maybe not the bane. But definitely a bane.

You see, when I do the dishes and put them in the drying rack, I'll put them away the next morning. But I have an unspoken rule: "I will only put away dishes when I know where they go." This rule works very well for the arcane tools that could either serve to frost a cake or well serve a medieval bloodletter. And since I didn't get those tools out, it makes sense that I shouldn't necessarily have to put them away. Plus, the frustration my wife displays when these tools turn up missing (usually because I put them in the wrong place) makes me wonder if, once found, she'll first use them to decorate a cupcake or the other use mentioned above.

However, this unspoken rule is not currently serving me well with the casserole dish. You see, I used to know where it goes. I did. But there are cookbooks there now. And there are no obvious casserole-shaped holes anywhere in the cabinets. I've looked. But the ground I stand on here is a little shaky - it's a casserole dish we’re talking about after all and not a closed star pastry tip.

So, I just leave it in the drying rack. And after a week of filling and emptying the drying rack around it, what I had always suspected becomes a hardened fact - my wife has an unspoken rule, too: "If you washed it, you put it away."

So, here we're stuck - husband and wife and their unspoken rules battling it out. Very quietly.

This stuff isn't fun to talk about. On the conversation checklist, it falls way down the list below the favorites,

  • Look at this cute thing your daughter did!
  • You won't believe who I bumped into!
  • Did you see that dancing Wedding Video?

the inevitables,

  • Wait, what happened at work?
  • Will you give the baths tonight?
  • Did the repairman call back?

and the old standbys

  • What do you want to do about dinner?
  • When is that meeting again?
  • What do you want to watch on TV now that the girls are down?

After all that, there is little energy left for

  • Hey, hon. About this casserole dish...

But it has finally dawned on me that having this conversation is important. I might not have thought so a few years ago, but a friend of mine was writing a great book and really opened my eyes to all the assumptions that get made when things go unsaid. And even as “modern” as I hope my wife and I are on dividing work, I can’t help but notice that the default is that she deals with more timely and delicate issues, like getting the girls dressed and taking temperatures, and the default is that I deal with less glamorous issues or more laborious issues, like taking out trash or putting up Christmas lights. I am pretty sure the division would be roughly the same if my wife and I discussed it, but right now we are just falling into patterns rather than making a conscious choice. And that seems dangerous.

So, tonight I am going to finally have that conversation with my wife. “I love you. You are beautiful and you mean so much to me. Now, about this casserole dish…” And it may turn out that she doesn’t actually have an unspoken rule and she really could care less about a dish sitting around for a week. But I care enough to find out.

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Joey Ramone taught my daughter how to spell

While driving around on errands, my youngest daughter sponteously shot out the following remark, apropos of nothing. (Apparently shooting out random remarks, apropos of nothing, is strongly hereditary.)

"Daddy, 'I..O' spells 'let's go.' That is very short. It is just two words. Actually, it is just two letters. I and O."

I gave my daughter the same response that people seem to give me when something random is just tossed out there. Namely, the non-commital, "Huh." It then suddenly dawned on me what was playing softly on the radio - Joey Ramone was in the middle of the chorus for Blitzkrieg Bop and was chanting, "Hey! Ho! Let's go!"

That's when it really struck me how impossible it is for us to control what our children pick up. Sure, KROQ is not necessarily the best pick as a 4-year-old worthy radio station, but I tend to balk at the idea that a child's world should be bubble-wrapped with only kid-friendly stuff. I like that kids pick up what they need and ignore what they don't. I also would point out that there is still some parental steering involved. In the radio station example, I might turn up the Owl City song and help them understand the lyrics on the very sensible idea that kids might enjoy singing about Fireflies. I will turn down NIN almost everytime, as I am not overly excited to teach my kids about animal fornication, especially not the way that Trent Reznor wants to teach it.

But it has to be acknowledged that our children have way more teachers than we like to admit. I think the way to handle this situation is to surround yourself with as many people that you respect and trust and help to emphasize and bolter those relationships as your child's ad hoc educators. It is a very traditional thing to buy a Christmas gift for your child's teachers. I guess this new way of conceptualizing who counts as a teacher means that the gift list just exploded. Joey, I have a $5 Starbucks gift card with your name on it. The hard part will be to get it to you. As for the rest of you, hang tight. I'll try to figure something out.

Friday, December 18, 2009

Disabled Ad Words

Just a quick update - my Google Adwords account has been disabled. Not that I was blogging for the money (OK, maybe I spun a quick fantasy here or there), but I just realized that one of the cool things about the Ads were how much they synched in with my posts. I post about Peeps? Blam! Ads about Peeps. Post about Bacon Salt? Blam! Ads about Baconnaise! I post about eating dolphins? OK, well no one really has ads about eating dolphins, so Google can't really be held accountable for that.

So, I will try to re-enable the Adwords (I have to submit an online appeal), but I have to caution everyone to not click on all the ads (and especially not repeatedly). Click on a few, by all means, if you are curious. Definitely click on them if you need to buy yourself a plush Peep pillow or another 6-pack of Bacon Salt. But just don't make a habit of clicking for clicking's sake.

Plus, although I am a bit disheartened to have to go through an online appeal process (and they ask a lot of question), I must give props to Google and their algorithms. I had a vague feeling that some people might be throwing in a bunch of extra clicks, but it wasn't like there were dorm rooms set up in China doing nothing but clicking on my blog. Still, they caught the hinkiness. So, faithful readers, no hinkiness. At least not with the ads, OK?

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

One out of One Internet Comics Agree

It has been brought to my attention that I am rapidly approaching my one-month post limit, and I acknowledge that I have been lacking.

I hope to have some time on Saturday and Sunday to knock out some inanity. In the meantime, please consider knocking out a dolphin sea pig. (Thanks, David!)


Thursday, October 22, 2009

54°40’ or Fight (*)

Subtitled: “Hey Canada, just become our 51st through 55th states already!”

Frankly, Canada gets roped in as America's punching bag all too often. I actually like Canadians. Well, most of them. Don't get me started on French Canadians. It could get ugly. But honesty, I can't think of a single Canadian that I have met that I haven't liked. Try saying that about Americans. I most certainly can't. And yet, I have been known to make more than my fair share of Canadian jokes. And I'm not stopping now. I suppose I would equate Canadian jokes with eating an entire bag of candy corn (or a full tray of Peeps, but more on that in another post). It is surprisingly easy to do, and once you start, it is really hard to stop. And you feel really bad about it later. And yet, when faced with another bag of candy corn (or another aspect of Canada rife with joke potential), the cycle starts all over again. And, for those of you expressing outraged indignation that you would never eat a whole bag of candy corn because they taste disgusting, just substitute in whatever it is that is your own food nemesis. Let he who is not next to an empty bag of pork rinds cast the first stone. No offense.

So, ripping open that bag of comfort food that is Canadian Jokes, here goes:

Canada often gets called our 51st state. Well, that's not entirely fair. First of all, there are at least five territories of the U.S. that are much closer to becoming states than Canada. Puerto Rico springs quickly to mind. There is a lot of resistance there to becoming a state, but maybe the whole Canada thing is getting in the way. No one likes to be just the bridesmaid. Maybe if we called Puerto Rico our 51st state, that would finally push them over the edge. You never know - they must be holding out for something. It definitely wasn’t their own state quarter. When the state quarter bill was introduced, there was originally a clause that 2009 would be held out to issue state quarters for any new states, but Puerto Rico didn't jump at the chance, even though they had 10 years to rally. Perhaps they had no idea how immensely popular the state quarter program would be. Think about it - they could have vastly increased their mind share among the under-12 coin-collecting crowd. But it turns out that Washington D.C.(**) was able to twist the rules to get their state quarter, and, last I checked, they are still a non-voting district and still not a state. Thanks to D.C., start checking your pockets for a Puerto Rico Quarter, too.

Further, Canada is huge. They would have to be more than just one state. They currently have 13 divisions - 10 Provinces (Canadian for state) and 3 Territories (Canadian for not-quite-a-state). First, no way do they get 13 states. But I do want to pull a page from their playbook - their territories are not relegated to really small swathes of land. They are huge, but mostly sparsely populated wilderness and oil fields. Hmmm… Where does the U.S. have a huge swath of land that is sparsely populated wilderness and oil fields. That’s right, Alaska. If through merging with Canada, we can figure out some way to turn Alaska back into a territory, I will spot Canada one more state. Think of it this way - do you remember when we had the Vice Presidential Candidate (or heaven forbid, Presidential Candidate) from American Samoa or Guam? That's right. We didn't. So, turn Alaska into a territory and one nasty problem is quickly averted.

We still need some names for these Provinces-turned-States. I know that they all already have names, but they need American names. Let's face it. The only hope for us ever finding them on the map is to rename them. And even then the odds are not quite in the favor of the typical American. Perhaps we need a public service campaign from Miss Teen South Carolina 2007 to help. She loves maps.

Superwash (nee British Columbia and Alberta)

This name is just cool. And from my limited experience, I understand that British Columbia is really just Washington with more rain and people who are a little more polite and not quite so pretentious about their coffee culture. I know Starbucks is in the process of taking over the world, but putting BC and Alberta in a position of authority over them may help soften their world-domination plans a touch and humanize them a bit more. Oh, your company is headquartered in Washington? Well, I'm from Superwash. Your biggest drink is a Venti? Pah! We're rocking the Trenti up here.

Other than a few minor changes (like renaming the CN Tower to the Super Space Needle), no one would really notice the difference. Some more astute observers will realize that the CN Tower is in Toronto and not the newly named Superwash. That’s just lame. Seattle clearly fires the opening round in the “big tower building war” by building the Space Needle, and Canada responds by...building a bigger tower on the other side of the country?!? That needs to be fixed. Obviously the Super Space Needle needs to be unbolted and shipped cross-country and placed ominously just across the border with Washington so it can further knock the Washingtonians down a peg.

Plus “Superwash”, this has the added advantage of being a modern name. We really need to stop naming places in pretentious dead languages. Would New Scotland really been so bad, as opposed to throwing the Latin Nova Scotia in our faces? Also, we need to be careful when we blindly pick a place name in a foreign language, like was done with Nebraska or Missouri. Sure it sounds cool and exotic, but you're still stuck living in Nebraska or Missouri, and how do you know that the name doesn't translate into something like "Flat Water" or "Big Canoe Town".

Norther Dakota (nee Saskatchewan and Manitoba)

Because, come on, we need to shift the debate from "why exactly do we need two Dakotas?" to "why, oh dear God why, do we need THREE Dakotas???" I could also be easily swayed to rename this province Bigfoot. Saskatchewan is just a more pretentious way of saying Bigfoot. And I think Manitoba means the same thing. Or maybe not, but it should.

And, just to be clear, North Dakota stays named "North Dakota". It's not getting renamed "Central Dakota" or anything like that. That would just be mean to expect the 17 people living in North Dakota to have to learn a new name for their state. Plus, if you make those guys angry enough, they just might stuff you into a wood chipper. Not pretty.

Nueva Escocia (nee Nova Scotia and New Brunswick)

Latin is a dead language. Spanish, however, is thriving. I lost track of the expected date, but at some point, Hispanics will be more populous than Caucasians in the United States. It's only proper that we share the naming rights across the languages. Plus, it's time to pay back some debts. We made a huge land grab for the Southwest during a war with Mexico and then totally dissed them on the names. "Hey, thanks for the huge chunk of highland desert. Sorry we stole it away from you. Oh, and by the way, we're going to stuff it in your face by naming it New Mexico. Suck it!" Not cool. Oh, and New Brunswick gets lumped in to this new state as well.

Ed (nee Prince Edward Island)

Prince Edward Island is tiny. It is about 2000 square miles, which puts it between Delaware and Rhode Island in tininess. Do you remember having to color and label maps ad nauseam when you were going through Elementary School? Where the hell were you supposed to put the text "Rhode Island"? It just never fit. Plus, if you didn't plan well, when you started writing "Connecticut", you had already overwritten all of Rhode Island and the Cape Cod portion of Massachusetts. Eventually, most of us learned to write "Conn." and leave it at that. But, now while we're renaming these places, let's actually try to fix that problem outright. Ed will fit nicely in that tiny region of the map. Done. No abbreviations needed. Frankly, if I could have figured out how to name one of these new states "Bob", I would have. Because naming stuff "Bob" is funny. But Ed is almost just as funny.

New Morocco (nee Newfoundland and Labrador)

Some of the more geographically astute out there may have caught that Quebec and Ontario haven't been dealt with. Let's be honest. They would never go along with this plan anyway. They have been fighting for secession for years. And yet, they seem wildly unsuccessful in accomplishing it. We'd be doing them a favor. We'd just annex the rest of Canada out from under them. The beautiful part is, they would still try to secede from Canada, even though all that would be left of Canada would be themselves. And they still wouldn't be able to pull if off.

Why do all the New's have to be based on where the ship just left from, anyway? Settlers seemed to be pretty excited to leave Old York (and Old Amsterdam before that), Old Jersey (and still excited to leave New Jersey, by the way), Old Hampshire, and the list goes on. Why turn around and name the new place you're going to New Same-As-Before. Sure, name it "New", but make it even better. Who cares that you’re a bunch of fishers and furriers moved over from England that have nothing in common with Morocco. Live large!

So, if you take a look at a map, I have left Newfoundland and Labrador stranded way out there, isolated from the rest of the newly constituted US, with Quebec as it's closest neighbor. Everything else is contiguous now (except for Hawaii - and plans for a bridge are forthcoming.) Even Alaska, which I have ignominiously proposed to demote back to a Territory. Contiguous except for poor Newfoundland and Labrador. And you know that militant Quebec is going to try to do something. So, to inspire French Resistance, who better than Morocco. Now the Resistance against the French-Canadians will be based in New Morocco. Done.

So, write your Congressman and let him know that you support this plan. Because if the U.S. ever stands to medal in Curling in the Winter Olympics, we are going to need to join up with our brothers to the North.

(*) It’s an awesome title, but I just couldn’t work a discussion of this into the text. There was a fight brewing over the Oregon Territory, which could have ended up with most of British Columbia being a part of the U.S. Canadian land possibly becoming part of the U.S. is not a unique situation. Take, for example, Prince Edward Island, which was heavily courted by the U.S. during the 1860's.

(**) I don't have any affiliations with any publications or media outlets, but in the interest of full disclosure, I should point out that I was born in Washington, D.C., so they will always get kid-glove treatment here. If only Dan Brown could have been so kind.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

M. Night Shyamalan Movies Ruined in 5 Words or Less.



The Sixth Sense - Bruce Willis is dead
Unbreakable - Samuel Jackson is a super-villain
Signs - Water kills aliens
The Village - It is modern day
The Happening - Plants make people kill

Some might argue that this doesn't actually ruin the movies. M. Night ruined them himself. All I am doing is saving you 90 minutes. You are welcome.