As if I didn't have enough to do already between my day job and my gig with Bleacher Report, I'm also writing occasional sports columns for a new website, The Fan Manifesto. It's a site that does more off-beat and in-depth stuff than b/r, which does mainly features stories about a specific athlete or team.
My first column with FanMan is about my first-ever trip to an Ole Miss football game, which is an experience that's only vaguely about football. The grassy lawn beside the stadium where everyone gathers is called the Grove, and trust me, there is nothing else like the experience there.
Click here to find out why.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
The Whole World Has Lost its Mind
I sometimes think that either the entire world has lost its mind or I've lost mine. Then I think a little harder and realize that it isn't necessarily an "either-or" situation.
I've seen more people do inexplicable things in the past week than I can count (And my counting skills extend well into double-digits.)
As usual, stories of weird behavior start at my gym. This isn't the first time that I've noted the gym tends to attract freaks, but the other day, there were two separate guys in ours working out (though not together) while wearing only socks.
Well, technically, the had on shirts and shorts too. I guess I should point that out. But for some reason, they had no shoes. And they didn't appear to have arrived together or to even know each other.
"How did this happen?", you might ask.
You might ask, but I probably won't hear you. This is only a blog, after all. I can't hear you from my computer.
Fortunately, however, I wondered the exact same thing. Did one guy arrive first, realize he forgot to pack his gym shoes, and decide to push through his workout anyway, notwithstanding how ridiculous he looked? Was he then followed by another guy who thought to himself, "Hey, that's a good look! I should try it"?
This seems unlikely. But it also seems unlikely that two unrelated persons would forget their gym shoes on the same day and then decide to workout while looking ridiculous rather than just coming back later. That's what a normal person would do, after all.
But these guys were apparently not normal.
Neither was the woman at the gym who laughed uproariously before, during and after every single rep she did. I might not be Mr. Fitness (but that would be a cool last name to have, you must admit) but I do know this: if you can laugh during your workout, you aren't really working out.
It's well-established that the gym brings out the worst in people--something about primal urges and fight or flight instincts bring out primative behavior. But, as you might have noted, the title of this blog isn't limited to the gym.
I sometimes ride the bus to work, in part because I get a free pass from my job, but also because it leads to great stories. The other day, I arrived at my stop just as a car was pulling into the store parking lot where the bus stop is located. A man jumped out of the car and immediately almost sprinted in my direction to ask me if I had 70 cents for bus fare.
Think about that.
And I don't just mean the fact that a bus trip cost $1.60, and I most certainly did not hear 90 cents of change jingling in his pocket as he sprinted from his car to ask me if I could help him pay for the bus that he apparently didn't really need.
Either he thought I was an idiot, or he was crazy. Or all of the above.
Sane people don't go to the gym in their socks or ask people for bus money while driving a pick-up truck. Sane (or at least considerate) people don't scream at each other at 11 p.m. and have loud outdoor parties every other night, as do the people who live two houses down. Sane people don't burn more calories by laughing at the gym than they do in their actual workouts.
Apparently, sane people just don't live in my world. Or maybe I don't live in theirs.
I still haven't figured out which.
I've seen more people do inexplicable things in the past week than I can count (And my counting skills extend well into double-digits.)
As usual, stories of weird behavior start at my gym. This isn't the first time that I've noted the gym tends to attract freaks, but the other day, there were two separate guys in ours working out (though not together) while wearing only socks.
Well, technically, the had on shirts and shorts too. I guess I should point that out. But for some reason, they had no shoes. And they didn't appear to have arrived together or to even know each other.
"How did this happen?", you might ask.
You might ask, but I probably won't hear you. This is only a blog, after all. I can't hear you from my computer.
Fortunately, however, I wondered the exact same thing. Did one guy arrive first, realize he forgot to pack his gym shoes, and decide to push through his workout anyway, notwithstanding how ridiculous he looked? Was he then followed by another guy who thought to himself, "Hey, that's a good look! I should try it"?
This seems unlikely. But it also seems unlikely that two unrelated persons would forget their gym shoes on the same day and then decide to workout while looking ridiculous rather than just coming back later. That's what a normal person would do, after all.
But these guys were apparently not normal.
Neither was the woman at the gym who laughed uproariously before, during and after every single rep she did. I might not be Mr. Fitness (but that would be a cool last name to have, you must admit) but I do know this: if you can laugh during your workout, you aren't really working out.
It's well-established that the gym brings out the worst in people--something about primal urges and fight or flight instincts bring out primative behavior. But, as you might have noted, the title of this blog isn't limited to the gym.
I sometimes ride the bus to work, in part because I get a free pass from my job, but also because it leads to great stories. The other day, I arrived at my stop just as a car was pulling into the store parking lot where the bus stop is located. A man jumped out of the car and immediately almost sprinted in my direction to ask me if I had 70 cents for bus fare.
Think about that.
And I don't just mean the fact that a bus trip cost $1.60, and I most certainly did not hear 90 cents of change jingling in his pocket as he sprinted from his car to ask me if I could help him pay for the bus that he apparently didn't really need.
Either he thought I was an idiot, or he was crazy. Or all of the above.
Sane people don't go to the gym in their socks or ask people for bus money while driving a pick-up truck. Sane (or at least considerate) people don't scream at each other at 11 p.m. and have loud outdoor parties every other night, as do the people who live two houses down. Sane people don't burn more calories by laughing at the gym than they do in their actual workouts.
Apparently, sane people just don't live in my world. Or maybe I don't live in theirs.
I still haven't figured out which.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Why October is the Best Month of the Year
I wish October would never end.
And I don't just say that because my birthday is in November and I'm beyond the age where that occasion is cause for celebration.
By now, everyone knows I hate February. July isn't much better.
Thankfully, October makes up for it all. It's the best month of the year, and there isn't a close second.
Think about it. With the exception of the freak chill happening today, the weather is gorgeous. The leaves turn colors and the scenery matches. If you're an outdoorsy type, there are limitless options for outdoor festivals, hiking and most anything else one might do that doesn't include air conditioning. If you are a sports fan, football season hits full swing, hockey season begins and the World Series drama unfolds. The cultured among us can enjoy a new season of symphony and opera, and even the couch potato is finally freed from summer reruns.
No matter who you are and what you like, there's something great about October.
On top of everything else, Halloween caps off the month, presenting a rare opportunity for adults without kids (or with available childcare) to use their imaginations to find a creative costume, go to a party and act like children for a night in our otherwise stuffy, overworked society. Those with kids get to watch them enjoy one of their happiest nights of their year.
Everyone wins.
I love October. I'm sad to see that it's almost two-thirds complete. November is good too, but it marks the end of sunny days and a transition to the time of year when people hunker down and try to stay warm in their houses after work, and then pretty soon everyone starts getting busy with holiday stuff and disappears for awhile.
But October isn't over yet. And we don't have to let it go quietly.
There are still 11 days left. That's plenty of time to enjoy the foliage and gentle autumn breeze and thanking God for creating it all. There's still time to meet friends at an outdoor patio somewhere to enjoy the last vestiges of sun until March. Halloween is still more than a week away--more than enough time to get creative about a costume and figure out how to make it happen.
In short, there are still plenty of chances to live. In the best month of the year.
Don't waste them. After all, it will be February again before long.
And I don't just say that because my birthday is in November and I'm beyond the age where that occasion is cause for celebration.
By now, everyone knows I hate February. July isn't much better.
Thankfully, October makes up for it all. It's the best month of the year, and there isn't a close second.
Think about it. With the exception of the freak chill happening today, the weather is gorgeous. The leaves turn colors and the scenery matches. If you're an outdoorsy type, there are limitless options for outdoor festivals, hiking and most anything else one might do that doesn't include air conditioning. If you are a sports fan, football season hits full swing, hockey season begins and the World Series drama unfolds. The cultured among us can enjoy a new season of symphony and opera, and even the couch potato is finally freed from summer reruns.
No matter who you are and what you like, there's something great about October.
On top of everything else, Halloween caps off the month, presenting a rare opportunity for adults without kids (or with available childcare) to use their imaginations to find a creative costume, go to a party and act like children for a night in our otherwise stuffy, overworked society. Those with kids get to watch them enjoy one of their happiest nights of their year.
Everyone wins.
I love October. I'm sad to see that it's almost two-thirds complete. November is good too, but it marks the end of sunny days and a transition to the time of year when people hunker down and try to stay warm in their houses after work, and then pretty soon everyone starts getting busy with holiday stuff and disappears for awhile.
But October isn't over yet. And we don't have to let it go quietly.
There are still 11 days left. That's plenty of time to enjoy the foliage and gentle autumn breeze and thanking God for creating it all. There's still time to meet friends at an outdoor patio somewhere to enjoy the last vestiges of sun until March. Halloween is still more than a week away--more than enough time to get creative about a costume and figure out how to make it happen.
In short, there are still plenty of chances to live. In the best month of the year.
Don't waste them. After all, it will be February again before long.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
My Puzzling Encounter with the Least Effective Protest of All Time.
On a sunny day in Nashville, eight dedicated protestors marched the downtown streets in what was either a slightly noisy effort to enjoy the weather or the worst protest of all time.
The protest consisted of, by my count, a total of eight people. It was the world's first protest that could double as a supper club.
To their credit, the group appeared to be a diverse group of races, socio-economic backgrounds, ages and physical abilities. To their detriment, these facts tend to imply that the protestors weren't a group of friends who decided to take a day off and march the streets, but the only eight people on earth who responded to whatever publicity there was asking people to show up and do this thing.
I inadvertenly came upon the protest while walking somewhere else during my lunch break. I almost found myself in the middle of it before I even knew it was there. When I got close enough to the protest to hear it (which was harder than one might think), the world's softest protest chant went something like this:
(Leader): What do we want?
(Group): Jobs!
(Leader): When do we want them?
(Group): Now!
It repeated like this for as long as I was within earshot, with the group rotating the leader role among them. It took at least 45 seconds for everyone to get a turn.
But then they turned a corner and I couldn't hear them anymore.
So, if a protest is organized on the streets of downtown Nashville and no one can hear it loudly enough to get annoyed, does it still make a sound? (In this case, the answer is "not if a motorcycle is passing by.")
Don't get me wrong. Other than the fact I enjoy being employed, I have no opinion on whatever it was they were protesting. But no matter the merits of the cause (and we'll get to that later), here's a Protesting 101 tip: if you only have 8 people show up for your protest, it's better to just cancel it.
If you don't stage a protest, people have no idea how many silent voices out there might agree with your cause. But if you go to the trouble of organizing an event, advertising it, and getting a permit, and still have only eight people show up, you cast the distinct impression that only 8 people on earth identify with your cause.
Whatever it actually was.
The whole event raised a number of questions. Foremost, are there really people out there against jobs? People who think jobs are a bad idea? Or are there people who think that jobs are ok, but would prefer them to come "later" rather than "now"?
If so, they were certainly put in their place yesterday. (As long as that place was within 20 feet of the protest, and no one's phone was ringing.)
Still, I can't help but wonder if the eight protestors really sought employment, wouldn't they be better served polishing up their resumes on their home computer instead of marching aimlessly around downtown? Do they think someone out there has a magic button they can press that will suddenly deliver jobs? But has anyone, in the history of time, ever protested their way into employment?
Perhaps these unanswered questions provide some clues as to why the protest was not better attended.
I like the spirit of this lost cause, even if it didn't make a lot of sense. Still, I almost wanted to go up to the group and ask if any of them were interested in doing some handyman work around the house. Part of me wanted to be part of the solution. A bigger part of me was hoping that one of them would accept my offer but ask to come over after the protest, which would put the protestor squarely at odds with the prior claim of wanting jobs "now."
I'm not quite sure who this protest was aimed at anyway. They didn't camp in front of a government building. They weren't trying to influence a government decision maker of any sort. They just walked around a commercial section of downtown.
Were they hoping some employer would happen upon them and immediately offer them all work? Did they simply want Nashville's downtown workforce, as finished their cushy lunch breaks and headed back to their air conditioned offices, to know that there exists an impoverished underbelly of eight people not able to enjoy such comforts.
It's a sobering thought.
I don't know if these people had any connection to the "Occupy Wall Street" movement, or even what that movement stands for, so don't take this as a political statement.
My point is just that I don't see what these people were trying to say.
In fact, I could barely even hear it.
The protest consisted of, by my count, a total of eight people. It was the world's first protest that could double as a supper club.
To their credit, the group appeared to be a diverse group of races, socio-economic backgrounds, ages and physical abilities. To their detriment, these facts tend to imply that the protestors weren't a group of friends who decided to take a day off and march the streets, but the only eight people on earth who responded to whatever publicity there was asking people to show up and do this thing.
I inadvertenly came upon the protest while walking somewhere else during my lunch break. I almost found myself in the middle of it before I even knew it was there. When I got close enough to the protest to hear it (which was harder than one might think), the world's softest protest chant went something like this:
(Leader): What do we want?
(Group): Jobs!
(Leader): When do we want them?
(Group): Now!
It repeated like this for as long as I was within earshot, with the group rotating the leader role among them. It took at least 45 seconds for everyone to get a turn.
But then they turned a corner and I couldn't hear them anymore.
So, if a protest is organized on the streets of downtown Nashville and no one can hear it loudly enough to get annoyed, does it still make a sound? (In this case, the answer is "not if a motorcycle is passing by.")
Don't get me wrong. Other than the fact I enjoy being employed, I have no opinion on whatever it was they were protesting. But no matter the merits of the cause (and we'll get to that later), here's a Protesting 101 tip: if you only have 8 people show up for your protest, it's better to just cancel it.
If you don't stage a protest, people have no idea how many silent voices out there might agree with your cause. But if you go to the trouble of organizing an event, advertising it, and getting a permit, and still have only eight people show up, you cast the distinct impression that only 8 people on earth identify with your cause.
Whatever it actually was.
The whole event raised a number of questions. Foremost, are there really people out there against jobs? People who think jobs are a bad idea? Or are there people who think that jobs are ok, but would prefer them to come "later" rather than "now"?
If so, they were certainly put in their place yesterday. (As long as that place was within 20 feet of the protest, and no one's phone was ringing.)
Still, I can't help but wonder if the eight protestors really sought employment, wouldn't they be better served polishing up their resumes on their home computer instead of marching aimlessly around downtown? Do they think someone out there has a magic button they can press that will suddenly deliver jobs? But has anyone, in the history of time, ever protested their way into employment?
Perhaps these unanswered questions provide some clues as to why the protest was not better attended.
I like the spirit of this lost cause, even if it didn't make a lot of sense. Still, I almost wanted to go up to the group and ask if any of them were interested in doing some handyman work around the house. Part of me wanted to be part of the solution. A bigger part of me was hoping that one of them would accept my offer but ask to come over after the protest, which would put the protestor squarely at odds with the prior claim of wanting jobs "now."
I'm not quite sure who this protest was aimed at anyway. They didn't camp in front of a government building. They weren't trying to influence a government decision maker of any sort. They just walked around a commercial section of downtown.
Were they hoping some employer would happen upon them and immediately offer them all work? Did they simply want Nashville's downtown workforce, as finished their cushy lunch breaks and headed back to their air conditioned offices, to know that there exists an impoverished underbelly of eight people not able to enjoy such comforts.
It's a sobering thought.
I don't know if these people had any connection to the "Occupy Wall Street" movement, or even what that movement stands for, so don't take this as a political statement.
My point is just that I don't see what these people were trying to say.
In fact, I could barely even hear it.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
The Nutty Saga of New Car Registration (a/k/a Car Registration In Hell)
I needed to get register and title our new car today. Actually, I needed to do it a week ago when our temporary tag actually expired, but today was the first day I had the time and patience for this:
7:35: Leave house to get required emissions test.
8:00: Test complete, head to county clerk’s office 1/2 mile away to register car.
8:10: Discover that while emissions testing station opened at 7, adjacent clerk’s office, for some reason, doesn’t open until 9. Brilliant.
8:16: Decide to go to downtown clerk's office instead, with a stop at home to grab forgotten screwdriver for use in affixing tag.
8:25: Come back home, grab screwdriver, notice that car has no screws provided in those two little holes where the tag attaches in the back. Also notice that one of the sockets through which screws should go is just an open hole bored into the back of the car with no grooves into which something could be screwed. This poses a problem...
8:27: Go to basement to search toolbox for screws of appropriate size and corresponding nuts to screw them into. Wonder how it is that car manufactures expect everyone to have perfectly sized screws for every occasion sitting around the house in waiting at all times.
8:28: Laugh to myself over thought of searching for appropriately sized nuts for the purpose of screwing. Unsuccessfully tell myself to grow up.
8:40: Find four different nut/screw combinations, but only one of each size. Hope that two of them will somehow work. Otherwise, I'm screwed.
9:05: Arrive at downtown clerk’s office after fighting extensive traffic. Upon getting out of care, I can’t find one of 932 forms needed to title car, however. Commence frantic search, while cursing silently.
9:10: Form found in glove compartment. Thank God.
9:12: Begin process of titling car. Hand 3 seperate forms to clerk, who asks me multiple questions readily apparent from face of the documents I just gave her, while she stares directly at them.
9:23: Final step of titling car: writing a check. Notice that while I brought checkbook, it is out of checks.
9:24: Pay by credit card instead, incurring 3% fee. Worth it to not ever have to deal with this again.
9:27: Bring tag to back of car, screws and nuts in hand. Discover that none of 4 screws I have securely fit into grooved socket. Talk myself out of making juvenile joke reflecting this situation.
9:35: Attempt to simultaneously put screw through license plate and fit it into ungrooved socket, while holding my nut on the other side of the hole. Due to configuration of back of car, however, only one finger can fit into area behind license plate holder to attempt to hold nut in place while I screw into it. Hope I can tell this story later while preserving G-rating for blog.
9:51: Drop nut into the abyss while unsuccessfully trying to screw into it from other side of license plate holder. Cover myself in car grime in the process of trying to dig it out. Unsuccessfully. Whoever designed this thing needs to be shot.
9:55: Improbably connect different screw to different nut and secure license plate through one of two sockets. Partially screw second screw that doesn’t quite fit into other, grooved socket. It isn't perfect, but there's a 78 percent chance I can drive to work without it falling off.
10:01: Park for work in very back of state parking lot, begin long uphill climb to place of employment.
10:11: Arrive at work, where they somehow expect me to retain mental energy to accomplish something.
Some day, I'm sure, I'll look back at this story and laugh. But that day isn't today.
Today was just nuts.
7:35: Leave house to get required emissions test.
8:00: Test complete, head to county clerk’s office 1/2 mile away to register car.
8:10: Discover that while emissions testing station opened at 7, adjacent clerk’s office, for some reason, doesn’t open until 9. Brilliant.
8:16: Decide to go to downtown clerk's office instead, with a stop at home to grab forgotten screwdriver for use in affixing tag.
8:25: Come back home, grab screwdriver, notice that car has no screws provided in those two little holes where the tag attaches in the back. Also notice that one of the sockets through which screws should go is just an open hole bored into the back of the car with no grooves into which something could be screwed. This poses a problem...
8:27: Go to basement to search toolbox for screws of appropriate size and corresponding nuts to screw them into. Wonder how it is that car manufactures expect everyone to have perfectly sized screws for every occasion sitting around the house in waiting at all times.
8:28: Laugh to myself over thought of searching for appropriately sized nuts for the purpose of screwing. Unsuccessfully tell myself to grow up.
8:40: Find four different nut/screw combinations, but only one of each size. Hope that two of them will somehow work. Otherwise, I'm screwed.
9:05: Arrive at downtown clerk’s office after fighting extensive traffic. Upon getting out of care, I can’t find one of 932 forms needed to title car, however. Commence frantic search, while cursing silently.
9:10: Form found in glove compartment. Thank God.
9:12: Begin process of titling car. Hand 3 seperate forms to clerk, who asks me multiple questions readily apparent from face of the documents I just gave her, while she stares directly at them.
9:23: Final step of titling car: writing a check. Notice that while I brought checkbook, it is out of checks.
9:24: Pay by credit card instead, incurring 3% fee. Worth it to not ever have to deal with this again.
9:27: Bring tag to back of car, screws and nuts in hand. Discover that none of 4 screws I have securely fit into grooved socket. Talk myself out of making juvenile joke reflecting this situation.
9:35: Attempt to simultaneously put screw through license plate and fit it into ungrooved socket, while holding my nut on the other side of the hole. Due to configuration of back of car, however, only one finger can fit into area behind license plate holder to attempt to hold nut in place while I screw into it. Hope I can tell this story later while preserving G-rating for blog.
9:51: Drop nut into the abyss while unsuccessfully trying to screw into it from other side of license plate holder. Cover myself in car grime in the process of trying to dig it out. Unsuccessfully. Whoever designed this thing needs to be shot.
9:55: Improbably connect different screw to different nut and secure license plate through one of two sockets. Partially screw second screw that doesn’t quite fit into other, grooved socket. It isn't perfect, but there's a 78 percent chance I can drive to work without it falling off.
10:01: Park for work in very back of state parking lot, begin long uphill climb to place of employment.
10:11: Arrive at work, where they somehow expect me to retain mental energy to accomplish something.
Some day, I'm sure, I'll look back at this story and laugh. But that day isn't today.
Today was just nuts.
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