I'm Just As Crazy As Anybody

That Sound You Hear? » Crazy Little Thing Called Love by Queen
Current Hit Count On This Blog » 903
Big News » Mark your calendars. Humans head back to the heavens on July 13. (Watch, Hurricane Fate will step in and push it back a week conjuring memories of Neil, The Moonwalker.)

Now, today's story...

First of all, this must be clear, for anyone to assume that I neither "complain" nor "act nutty" is absolute folly. I whine and be crazy just as much as anybody else, thank you. If you're lost, sorry, I'll explain. Liz left me this comment yesterday:

Well, Chris forgets to write anything nice about other people because we all complain and act nutty besides him. I had back to back spares that he failed to mention because he was too busy talking about how I want to beat the crap out of the poor bowling alley egomaniac. *sigh* I guess some people are too prideful to laugh at themselves and lighten up. But on that note, Thank you for the gift certificates, it was appreciated even if you don't think so. But, you, personally did not go out and pay for them so we can call you a cheap ass. We just can't say you are a inconsiderate cheap ass. ;-)

Half (all right, more than half) of my blog is about complaining. I mean, it's not, but it is. It's nonsense. All of it. I don't like to give a detailed account of my day because, for one thing, no one cares. For another, I don't have the time or interest. So as a way of adding even a shred of interest to a blog lost in the masses, I write about things that make me laugh (with no expectations of making anyone else laugh).

I'm going to continue now to discredit the above quote. Liz did have back-to-back spares. This information went unmentioned in my blog simply because I didn't find it funny or unusual. Also, I forgot.

Next, my ability to laugh at myself is the only reason I can sustain a blog, wherein I mock myself and often others. If I was unable to laugh at myself, I'd have thrown myself off the Skyway long ago. People who can't laugh at themselves bother me. I know a few. They're not pleasant to be around.

I do believe everyone appreciated my gift certificates. They were given to me for free, so I felt it right to give them to other people for free. Of course I'm cheap, I really can't deny that. Aside from the fact that it only costs $2.50 per game, I refer you to here and here (previous posts wherein I mock my own thrift).

Now, back to the beginning again. I'm told I'm not willing to say anything nice about people. This coming from the one person who I recently said the nicest thing about in a post talking about my birthday party. "Liz," I wrote, "gave me the coolest birthday present I've ever gotten." That is about as nice as I'm willing to get. And friends, that is saying something.

And finally...

Word of the Day: prideful adj. having or showing arrogant superiority to and disdain of those one views as unworthy (Tomorrow's word: irony.)

What? I needed to post another mountain picture. You know you like it. 

Goofy Shoes

That Sound You Hear? » This Is The Life by Billy Dean
Current MP3 Count » 5,085
Big News » New photos of the proposed Freedom Tower were released today. Here's one I like. This building will be built in Manhattan where the World Trade Center once stood.

Now, today's story...

I went bowling this afternoon with some friends (again, the core blog audience being the aforementioned folk). Still, I write for those of you without first-hand knowledge.

We've all been wanting to get together and do something this summer. Somebody (either Liz or me) came up with bowling. And that sounded good. As much as it's been probably almost six or seven years since I've gone, I really wanted to try my hand again. Then my mom found four or five gift certificates for free games. So I thought I'd save everybody $2.50 for no good reason. It went underappreciated. (More in a moment.)

I got to Oakfield Lanes in Brandon at about 10 minutes after 3 PM, which left me assuming I was late considering our planned meeting time of 3:00. Well, I was wrong. Brett got there only shortly before/after me. You'd have to consult him if you're constructing a timeline. (Sidenote: If you're constructing a timeline, please stop reading my blog. I'm not very comfortable with that.)

Back to the gift certificates, now. While waiting for the slow-as-molasses women (that for Brett), I decided I'd call them to let them know a surprise was waiting for them when they arrived. Only it backfired on me. Because on the phone Cortney says something about how I'm a "cheap-ass." So now I'm going to walk up and offer them free games? Still, I know the jabs come from a good place. (And if they don't, karma will have its way with them.)

We got our goofy shoes and the four of us started our game. Somehow I was elected to be first. Sounded good. I was eager to bowl again. It had been a while. It's possible the three of them didn't want to make fools of themselves, whereas I could give a crap. None of us have played in years. Who's going to mock anybody else's lack of bowling skills?

I threw a spare. My first frame of my first game since God knows how long. A spare. And everybody clammed up. Brett was up next and refused to take his turn. He demanded I bowl for him. People, on occasion, drive me up the wall. I tried my best to get him to throw the damn ball, but to no avail. So I went for him. I guttered it twice. And no, it wasn't on purpose. Why would I sabotage the game of a guy who doesn't even seem to want to play?

Then Cortney knocks a few pins over. Followed by Liz, who did the same thing I did on Brett's turn. Back to me. I never equaled that first frame for the rest of the day. The best I could shoot was a 9 (on two throws). On the other hand, I did manage to nearly win the first game. And by "nearly," I of course mean that I tied with Liz. Somehow she came out of nowhere and pulled a 79 out of her ass. Like me.

I should also mention that I got Brett to play his own game starting in the second frame, and the guy bowls a strike around frame six or seven. Craziest damn thing.

Then Gardner showed up in time to join us for a second round. Turns out he seemed to have the best bowling philosophy, which was just to fling the ball as hard as you can down the lane. He had a strike (which, because he entered his name as Malcolm, came up as Malcolm X on the screen) and more than a couple of spares. He finished the game with a 92. I was second with a 69. Nobody improved on their second game.

After we finished, everybody used the gift certificates, at which point we ran into Mr. BowlingAlleyEmployee enjoying a rare power trip. He didn't like the idea of four people using gift certificates from the same book that didn't belong to them. Liz wanted to bend him over the counter and beat the bowling balls out of him.

But all said I think we had a pretty good time, and with any luck, we'll do it again soon. And even if they don't, I am absolutely going back. Even though I sucked, that was too much fun.

It was.

Word of the Day: All right, so I'm starting a new thing to take effect the next time I blog. I'm going to write here a word and its definition and challenge my few readers to use it in a sentence via a Comment. We'll see just how many of you have brains up there. Harsh, perhaps. But your lack of current commenting warrants hit.

This, from high atop the Washington Monument, was also from my '98 trip to D.C. What are all those little white things in the water? (If you say "boats," I'm going to punch you. I know they're boats.) 

I took this in North Carolina also on my 1998 trip. I have lots of pictures from that spot that I've taken every year I go up. 

I shot this photo of the U.S. Capitol when I was in Washington in 1998. The flag was at half staff because it was only days after police officers had been shot there. 

That was the plane that took us from Tampa to Baltimore on the UK trip. It was a rainy day. How nice. 

No More Extensive Sitting

That Sound You Hear? » Gravity by Alison Krauss & Union Station
Next To Watch On My DVR » The Inside
Big News » Snapple's feeble attempt at erecting the largest popsicle in a city square culminated in sticky streets. Yeah, the thing feel right to pieces. Way to go, PR guys! Keep up the good work.

Now, today's story...

I went to the Y today. Me. I know, that could be the whole story right there.

It was weird. I don't exercise. I sit in my chair more often than not doing things like writing in my blog. Well as a skinny-ass white guy who's recently noticed a slightly protruding belly, I feel now would be a good time to take up a hobby like cardio or something.

For a while now, my mom and Jason have been going to the YMCA here in Brandon every morning. Today I got up at daybreak to join them. It was way too early. But, hell, it might be worth it, right?

Everybody in my family has a card. They're all members. Not me though, and my quest for inactivity aside, a good reason for my not having one is that most of the year I live in Temple Terrace now to go to school. But, still being a member of the family I shouldn't have any trouble getting in to sweat a little, wouldn't you think?

We got there and I swear it was 7 AM. My mother and brother flashed cards and thought they might sneak me in. Enter Deputy Tightass, a behind-the-counter gnome who asked me to sign my life away. In the event one of their machines kills me, they want to keep their distance. I would too.

Sign here and here. And here. Here, here, and here. There, here, here, there, and once more over here. And you're done. Your potential injury or death is now no longer our problem. Happy treadmilling!

First things first. Jason needs a spotter so he can push 30 pounds in the air with his bare hands. You read that right. Midway throught the second set of ten things were going downhill. I didn't have to help him, though. After all, he also signed his life away at some point. But I did. Because homicide trials are no fun. Watch The Practice if you want proof of that. Great show.

Then to the treadmills, where I walked a damn mile but never left the same spot. That's how they get you. Of course it was hard to deny the eight televisions screens overhead. You just plug in your headphones and pick a TV. That I could learn to stand.

I walked a mile at 3.5 miles per hour. Go ahead, somebody mock me. Go ahead. They I rode a bike for two miles (again, not ever going anywhere, which is frustrating) at about 10 miles per hour. What, you haven't mocked me enough? Exercise is a novelty to me. I'm sure that will wear off.

The thing that surprised me though is that for the rest of the day, as much as I really just sort of sat around, I didn't feel the least bit sluggish as I have in the past. Get that heart pumping early in the day and suddenly nothing's stopping me.

Oh, quiet. If you are an exerciser, surely you know better than I do, and if you're not, can it. When I was younger I used to get all my exercise by playing street hockey every other day. But as I got older (and a computer) I found new hobbies that required extensive sitting.

Time to change it up a little. No more extensive sitting. I can run or ride a mile and never go anywhere, but at least I feel better afterwards. I've heard people say crap like that before, but never believed it. Guess I had to experience it.

Whenever I Want: I can't think of a greater invention for a TV viewer like myself than the digital video recorder. Crazies are trying to make TiVo a generic term, but it's actually called a DVR. Excellent quality video and I don't have a set schedule anymore. I can watch the shows I like whenever I feel like it. How great is that. Here's to the DVR. All right, I'm done now.

Check out Liz's new blog design! Everybody seems to like it. I'm at Ha-Ha's in Cleveland on the 28th. Don't forget to tip your waitresses. 

That's right, I still have UK2K pictures left to post. Here's another from Urquhart Castle on the banks of Loch Ness. 

This is that cake I was referring to earlier. Blame them. They made it. 

That Was Surprising

That Sound You Hear? » Louisiana Love by Carolina Rain
Current Hit Count On This Blog » 818
Big News » Some drunk idiot plowed into Mason Dixon's car on Saturday. He's been in intensive care with a collapse lung, broken ribs, and oh yeah, doctors had to take out his spleen. This is why people should learn how to drive before getting a license to do so. For those of you not familiar with Tampa Bay area or 1980's radio, Mason Dixon is a very popular DJ.

Now, today's story...

This is a post I should have written weeks ago. In talking to Liz and Mandy, I realize there's disappointment about my lack of writing with regard to my 21st birthday party — a surprise party thrown for me by all of my best friends.

I guess there were a lot of reasons (read, excuses) why I didn't write here about it. First was that the week after my birthday I was very busy and didn't have the time to sit down and write. I know, lame.

Another might have been that writing a story where my core audience members were primary participants seems a little like overkill. There aren't a lot of people who I don't know that read my blog. At least they haven't made themselves known to me, anyway.

But this story is mostly for those people as everyone else should already know it.

About a week before my birthday, Cortney asked me if I was doing anything Saturday (the day before my birthday) and if not, to not make any new plans. Done. Now why? Well it seems she and Liz and Gardner want to take me out for dinner. Cool.

As the week continues, the story evolves. The restaurant is to be a secret. However, nobody wants to come by my house and pick me up. Surely you see the dilemma. I'm not sure I'm capable of driving myself to an undisclosed location. Well, they say, I won't have to. I just go to Gardner's, and he'll drive me to the restaurant. Mandy too. That's right, gotta pick her up now.

Don't misunderstand, I'm not complaining. Just curious about all the work I'm putting in for my own surprise birthday party. So Saturday comes around and I head off to pick up Mandy. And we're early. But from everything I'd been told, there were 8:00 reservations waiting for us. And it's typically rude for the guest of honor to show up late. Or so I would imagine.

We get to Gardner's apartment and knock on the door. No answer. Again. No answer. Again. Still nothing. So I call his cell wondering if maybe he meant for us to meet him downstairs. No answer there either. But I keep trying and I suppose at some point he left a voicemail on my cell suggesting that perhaps he is in a position where answering the door wouldn't be the best thing.

The message, transcribed in part: "Dude, I'm takin' a shit." Nice.

Well I don't know if it was a secret code worked out in advance or what, but at this point Mandy suggests that we go look at the pool. I'd been planning to move into Avalon so it seemed natural. But we stood out there for a quite a while and Mandy seemed unusually interested in a big pool she'd likely never see again. But I didn't really think twice about it.

Until when we went back upstairs and everybody shouted "Surprise!" at me and shot me up with various types of graffiti. I meant confetti. Everybody was there and nobody was dressed up. Oh yeah, except for me. Why? Because I thought I was going to a nice restaurant. I gotta say, though, their disinformation campaign worked just how they wanted it to.

And for another thing. Having a relaxed party at Gardner's place was so much better than any restaurant. Of course then there was the cake. With my fat little face plastered all over it. Bet they wouldn't have brought that to a fancy restaurant.

I guess it was on seeing the cake (and some posters strewn about the room) that I realized my mom had been in on this whole thing too. Dealing lots and lots of old photographs. None that were embarrassing, I guess (although some people might see them that way). It all happened right under my nose and I didn't even know it. But that's good though. I enjoyed the surprise.

We had pizza (which came late) and later cake (donning my face) and everyone tried to get me to drink something. But being that I still had to drive home, that wasn't gonna happen. Oh shut it.

Then I opened my gifts. And no offense to anybody else, but I think Liz gave me the coolest birthday present I've ever gotten. It was a copy of the first draft of the script for the pilot of Alias. That was surprising.

Storytime: There's more stuff to read in my fiction blog if you're interested. I've written 20 chapters. Don't you think you should at least read one?

That is one dusty record player. I've been digitizing my parents' old records. Gonna have more aging MP3s than you can shake a needle at. 

A Bumpy Train Ride

That Sound You Hear? » One Believer by Diamond Rio
Current MP3 Count » 5,057
Big News » Here's how lazy Tampa cops are. A Rainbow Warrior-loving cab driver chased down an Earnhardt-admiring bank robbery suspect. That's what is come to. Cabbies are hunting our most wanted. Very reassuring. (And I may not be a NASCAR fan, but come on, Gordon chasing Earnhardt? That's just good entertainment.)

Now, today's story...

Finally, something to write about.

Tonight I went with Jason and my dad to Cypress Gardens to see Diamond Rio in concert. It was an awesome show, but it almost wasn't worth getting there.

The concert was scheduled for 6:30 PM (that's a later story) but we left around 1 so we could stop at Avalon Heights so I could turn in my application. That's the apartment I'll be living in (I hope) come August. Gardner managed to put some clothes on for 10 minutes so we could go see him.

We left Temple Terrace, I'd say, around 2 or 2:30. We didn't make it to the park until close to 5 PM. Yeah, I know. We took 75 to I-4 bound for Lakeland. And that was a good plan, until after stopping for lunch at McDonald's, we realized we didn't have directions to the park. Oh yes, my dad accidentally forgot his Mapquest instructions.

We hoped there would be road signs, you know, those little useless green jobs that stand next to the street all day. Well, there were. Only none of them said anything about Cypress Gardens Adventure Park. We're a good ways down I-4 (practically in Orlando) when it dawns on us to call Cypress Gardens and, a novel thought, ask for directions.

Well, as it happened, we were a good 27 miles past the exit we needed to get off at. This was going to add a substantial amount of time to what should have been a not-so-long trip. Of course, just to put an ironic wrinkle in things, traffic suddenly came to a near stop as we got close to the exit we were going to use to turn around. And a bunch of morons way behind us, who weren't paying attention to the road, rear-ended a bunch of other unlucky souls. It was cool though, because there was a cop practically right next to them.

Yeah, away we go. We hit State Road 570 bound for Winter Haven, a road which, by the way, costs you more to drive than to buy a Big Mac. There were toll plazas every six feet. Well, okay, it's not like I was paying them, but a fella can complain about ridiculous things. Right? No? Okay.

Moving on. We eventually find our way to 540 which leads us to 17 (all roads, just so you know) which gets us to Cypress Gardens Boulevard. Cool, we're nearly there. Oh, wait, then comes a sign that says to turn left for Cypress Gardens. We'll later discover that the omission of "Adventure Park" on that sign would be very crucial. We must've been driving around on various roads named "Cypress Gardens" for about 20 minutes without once seeing a theme park.

Finally a lucky right turn put us right in front of the place. But I swear to you, at one point, we came upon a four-way stop wherein whichever way you went, you'd still be traveling on Cypress Gardens Road. I'll tell you what. People want to know why no one ever went to Cypress Gardens years ago. It wasn't because it sucked. It was because they couldn't find it. They gave up and went home.

Good thing we didn't, though. That concert was worth the [extended] trip. I've always wanted to see Diamond Rio in concert. Now I can cross that off my list. I'd also like to throw in that, in the spare hour we had (yes, just one), I rode a rollercoaster. Me. But don't go thinking it was some SheiKra or something. If anything, it was more like a bumpy train ride. That's the only kind of rollercoaster I'll get anywhere near.

No, you grow up.

Diamond Lineup: Here are the songs Diamond Rio performed tonight, in the order they performed them: Unbelievable; Wrinkles; Norma Jean Riley; One Believer (today's music); State of Emergency (new!); a medley of I Know How The River Feels, That's What I Get For Loving You, and Love A Little Stronger; Mirror Mirror; One More Day; Redneck Love Gone Bad (new!); Can't You Tell (new!); I Believe; Beautiful Mess; a Bluegrass medley; In God We Still Trust (new!); Meet In The Middle; How Your Loves Makes Me Feel; and for the encore, Bubba Hyde.

This is a Diamond Rio publicity photo. I saw them perform at Cypress Gardens tonight. It was a great show. They expect a new CD in the fall. Keep your fingers crossed, but don't hold your breath. This CD was supposed to be released last fall. 

The Magical Golden Hockey Stick, Part V

This summer I am taking a class called Literature in Childhood Education. Basically, it's about children's stories. A recent assignment was to write a story of a hero's quest. And being a hockey freak who missed an entire season, you can guess my topic. This week I'll be posting the story in five parts. I'll return to my old format next week. Enjoy the story of The Magical Golden Hockey Stick!


PART FIVE

Jack was safe but the hiking path on the map was now gone and the slope of the mountain was so steep he could never climb it on his own. All hope was lost. Jack began to cry, fearing he would never get to Coach in time. Soon after, a Thrasher came flying by and saw Jack crying.

“What’s the matter?” asked the Thrasher.

“I need to scale this mountain to save Coach,” Jack said. “But it is much to steep for me. Is there any way you can help me?”

“Why of course I can!” the Thrasher exclaimed. “You just need to become a Flyer!”

“A Flyer?” Jack asked.

“Yes, take these Red Wings and strap them on,” the Thrasher said. “You’ll fly to the top of this mountain in no time!”

Jack put on the Red Wings and flapped them as hard as he could. He flapped and flapped and finally reached the peak of the mountain. He hid behind some trees trying to get a look at where the Devils were holding Coach and the Magical Golden Hockey Stick.

As Jack hid, a Mighty Duck came up behind him and quacked at him.

“Who are you?” Jack asked.

“I’m the Mighty Duck! You’ll need my help to sneak past the Devils and save your Coach and steal the Magical Golden Hockey Stick.”

“How will you help me?” Jack asked

“Well, I have the Magic Maple Leaf, of course!” the Mighty Duck shouted.

“The Magic Maple Leaf?” Jack asked

The Mighty Duck told Jack to follow him to the gates where there Devils stood guard.

“Who goes there?” a Devil asked in a loud, booming voice.

The Mighty Duck began to wave the Magic Maple Leaf wildly in the direction of the Devils. Jack watched the Devils get sleepy and collapse on the ground.

“Well, that was easy!” Jack said.

“But only I, the Mighty Duck, can give the Magic Maple Leaf its magical powers,” said the Mighty Duck.

Jack thanked the Mighty Duck and opened the gates and found Coach, who was holding the Magical Golden Hockey Stick.

“I believe this is yours,” Coach said.

Jack was so happy that Coach was alive! They each strapped Red Wings and flew all the way home to Vancouver. Jack loved his new Magical Golden Hockey Stick. He scored a hundred goals every season and his team finally won the championship!

THE END

The Magical Golden Hockey Stick, Part IV

This summer I am taking a class called Literature in Childhood Education. Basically, it's about children's stories. A recent assignment was to write a story of a hero's quest. And being a hockey freak who missed an entire season, you can guess my topic. This week I'll be posting the story in five parts. I'll return to my old format next week. Enjoy the story of The Magical Golden Hockey Stick!


PART FOUR

That afternoon, Jack crossed the border into the Yukon Territory. He was freezing but knew he had to press on. He came upon the Capital of the Yukon — Whitehorse. But there was a civil war brewing in town. One man was trying to claim it was his destiny to become the King of Whitehorse, but the Senators of the city would hear none of that. The Senators were elected by the townspeople and therefore would not step down unless they were voted out. Still, the man continued to claim he was destined to be King. Everybody was yelling and arguing.

Jack was annoyed by all the yelling so he followed the sound of Blues music to a nice restaurant on the edge of town. Inside, everyone was enjoying each other’s company — Canadiens and Canucks alike. Jack ate a healthy dinner and then continued his journey to Mt. Logan.

Jack knew he was getting close because his map showed the mountain was just a little past the town of Whitehorse. It had started to get dark when Jack reached the base of the mountain so he decided to call it a night. It was so quiet, he could hear people far in the distance. He heard the sounds of Oilers working the night shift on the rigs. They were loud men but they got their work done. Jack could also hear the chants of an Indian tribe farther away. They were Blackhawks and they were celebrating a good harvest. These sounds soothed Jack to sleep.

The next morning, Jack awoke to the growls of a bear. This wasn’t just any bear. It was a Bruin! Jack grabbed his backpack and sleeping bag and ran! The Bruin chased Jack and the growls were so loud it shook the earth beneath him. The ground trembled so much that it caused a huge Avalanche! Massive amounts of snow came tumbling down the mountain. Jack escaped the falling snow and rocks but the Bruin was crushed underneath it all. Finally, the ground started to settle.

END OF PART FOUR

The Magical Golden Hockey Stick, Part III

This summer I am taking a class called Literature in Childhood Education. Basically, it's about children's stories. A recent assignment was to write a story of a hero's quest. And being a hockey freak who missed an entire season, you can guess my topic. This week I'll be posting the story in five parts. I'll return to my old format next week. Enjoy the story of The Magical Golden Hockey Stick!


PART THREE

By nightfall, Jack had made it to Kitimat and was extremely tired. He had never slept away from his home before. It was so dark out. Now he had to make camp in the Wild. Still, he loved it. He loved nature and any chance he got, he always played pond hockey with his friends. He got cozy in his sleeping bag and tried counting the Stars until he fell asleep.

Jack woke up the next morning to the sound of kids playing nearby. He thought that was odd so he investigated. He peeked through the trees and saw a group of children all wearing Blue Jackets. They were making snowballs and throwing them at each other. That looked fun to Jack and he wanted to go play with them. But he knew finding Coach and the Magical Golden Hockey Stick was far more important.

He continued hiking northward when the sky began to turn dark. Rain started to fall and the thunder was deafening because Lightning was striking nearby. Jack tried to find somewhere to take cover. The storm was getting bad. It was like three Hurricanes combined. But Jack kept trudging along. He knew had to make his way inland if he wanted to make it to Mt. Logan. He hiked northeast and started to get out of the storm. He ended up in Spatsizi Wilderness Park and he was soaking wet. He built a fire and used the heat from the Flames to dry his clothes off.

When his clothes were dry, Jack used the remaining cinders to make a grilled cheese sandwich from bread and cheese in his backpack. When he finished, he started out again when he met up with a Ranger who worked in the park. Jack told the Ranger all about his journey and what happened to Coach. The Ranger wished him luck but warned him about the Predators in the woods. The Ranger gave Jack a Sabre that he could use to ward off the monstrous beasts. Jack thanked him and continued on his way.

A few hours down the road, Jack came face to face with a Panther and a Coyote, two of the Predators the Ranger told him about. But Jack set his fear aside and brandished his Sabre. He cut the Panther and Coyote in half with just one slash of his Sabre.

END OF PART THREE

The Magical Golden Hockey Stick, Part II

This summer I am taking a class called Literature in Childhood Education. Basically, it's about children's stories. A recent assignment was to write a story of a hero's quest. And being a hockey freak who missed an entire season, you can guess my topic. This week I'll be posting the story in five parts. I'll return to my old format next week. Enjoy the story of The Magical Golden Hockey Stick!


PART TWO

Jack lived in Vancouver, where he began his quest up the Pacific coastline. He stood on the dock wearing large snow boots and a great big coat. He was waiting for a ferry but it was getting late and most boats had docked for the night.

Luckily, some Islanders were drifting in after catching fish all day. The boat docked and the men unloaded the catch. Then the members of the crew left to go home for the night, but the captain started his boat back up again. Jack said to the Islander, “Sir are you headed north?” The Islander replied, “Why, yes I am, do you need a lift?” Jack told the Islander about his journey and hopped on board.

Jack and the Islander had almost made it to Port Hardy when they felt a rumbling beneath the small boat. Jack looked over the side and was startled. Sharks! Huge, angry Sharks were thrashing and biting at the boat. The Islander grabbed a harpoon and tried to stave them off, but it was no use. The Sharks were unstoppable. The boat filled with water and the Sharks got closer and closer to Jack and the Islander. The boat finally reached the dock and the Islander grabbed Jack and helped him up onto the pier. The ran as fast as they could to dry land as the Sharks devoured the Islander’s boat. He was angry yet relieved to still be alive.

Jack thanked the Islander for his help and continued his journey. He went on hiking up the coastline, sure to stay far enough away from where the Sharks feed. Jack was coming up on the small town of Namu when he became suspicious of the strange tranquility and quiet around him. Something wasn’t right. All of a sudden, a pack of angry Penguins came charging at Jack! He had to think fast. He grabbed a matchbook out of his backpack and set fire to a dead tree lying on the ground. The Flames kept the Penguins away and Jack continued his journey.

END OF PART TWO

The Magical Golden Hockey Stick, Part I

This summer I am taking a class called Literature in Childhood Education. Basically, it's about children's stories. A recent assignment was to write a story of a hero's quest. And being a hockey freak who missed an entire season, you can guess my topic. This week I'll be posting the story in five parts. I'll return to my old format next week. Enjoy the story of The Magical Golden Hockey Stick!


PART ONE

Once upon a time there was a boy named Jack. Jack was very young when Coach made him the captain of his hockey team. He was the youngest captain ever! All his teammates cheered him and practiced every day so they could win their next game. But for Jack’s first game as captain, the team lost. Everyone was very sad. But Coach gave them hope. He said, “Jack, now that you’re captain, you must go in search of the Magical Golden Hockey Stick to make our team the very best.”

Jack accepted his mission immediately and asked Coach how to find this Magical Golden Hockey Stick. Coach told Jack that the golden hockey stick was being guarded by three Devils atop the highest mountain peak in Canada — Mt. Logan in the Yukon Territory.

Coach took Jack out to the middle of the rink where they had just finished a game and said that there was a map buried under the ice. Jack grabbed and ice pick off the bench and started digging at center ice. As he and Coach dug and dug, the ice all around them started to melt, and it began to get very hot in the rink.

Then a huge red Devil emerged from the melted ice on one end of the rink where the goal net once stood. And another Devil came up on the other end. Jack was scared and tried to run back to the bench, but the ice was too slippery and he kept falling. The Devils raced toward center ice and grabbed Coach! They flew up out of the building, making a huge hole in the roof. Jack screamed out in fear as he watched the Devils carry Coach away!

Jack saw that the ice had melted so much that he no longer had to dig for the map that Coach told him about. He picked it up and noticed it was made out of some kind of cloth so it wouldn’t tear when it got wet. He rolled it up and put it in his pocket and walked back to the locker room.

Jack told his teammates about his incredible experience, but they did not believe him. He showed them the hole in the roof that the Devils made. But they still refused to believe him. Jack felt alone and he was scared for Coach. He wanted to find him but did not know where to look. Then he remembered! Coach gave him a mission to find the Magical Golden Hockey Stick and said that it was guarded by the Devils. Jack thought if he went to find the stick, he would find the Devils and ask them where they took Coach.

So Jack, map in hand, took off on his journey to find Coach and the Magical Golden Hockey Stick.

END OF PART ONE

It has been raining quite a lot lately, so this seemed appropriate. Have a rainy day! 

I'm going back to the Blue Ridge Mountains in August. How fun for me. 

It's a mountain tunnel. For real. 

Going Postal

That Sound You Hear? » Shine Your Light by The Mavericks
Current Weather Threat » Tropical Storm Arlene
Big News » Bolivia has a new president tonight and there are at least three guys who badly did not want the job. First the guy resigned, then two other congressional types were all, "dude, you gotta be kidding."

Now, today's story...

First of all, sorry about the title of the post. I couldn't resist. I'm weak.

Earlier tonight I took the written exam in what was the first of many steps in the process of becoming an employee of the United States Postal Service. That's right, Chris the Mailman. Only not really.

The test was at a massive temp agency-like place in what was probably once a shopping center at the corner of Busch and Florida Avenue. When I got there, I was surprised to see there were a good 40 or 50 people, most of whom were exactly who you'd think. In other words, three of us were white. I'm not being mean, I'm just saying. Well, I'm not trying to be mean.

We were herded from one room to the next. They had everything but an electrified cattle prod. We lined up and got signed in and headed off to the testing room. The evening had a lot to do with "hurry up and wait" as is to be expected from any governmental venture.

Hurry, go get signed in (and stand in line forever). Hurry, go get seated in the testing room (and wait around until everyone has been signed in). It was like punishment for being early. No, just being on time really. And the bubbling in of information on the answer sheet prior to the actual test-taking was another task.

Do not go ahead of the examiner. If she said fill in your last name only, by god you'd better not even comtemplate filling in your first name. Or there shall be hell to pay.

Now don't get me wrong, it's not like I was actually annoyed by the slowness of everything. But I know people like to bitch and moan about these things, so I figure they must also like to read about them. (That was a not-so-subtle hint to people who like to whine to, for the love of god, stop it!)

Test time at last. Among other things we were forbidden from discussing the contents of Clerical Abilities Examination 710 of the USPS. And since I want the job, I assure you I'm not saying a word. Except for that it was easy. I mean they set out to trick you, but I knew that from doing the practice pre-test last week. So I went in expecting trickery.

There were 140 questions, 20 of which I'm certain were incorrect. I can say this with certainty because in the first two sections, they don't give you enough time to answer all of the questions. So there are 18 that went unanswered. But that was good. The guy next to me had a lot more than that. Yeah, so I mean I don't really understand that.

The good news is, I believe that I passed. A 70% is all that's required. The bad news is I have to wait an unknown amount of time (could be one week, could be three) to have my beliefs confirmed.

But once that happens, I'll set up an appointment for my typing test, followed by an interview and with any luck, by late August, I'll join the ranks of the mentally unbalanced. I'm kidding. I have nothing against postal workers. Or the USPS. Or America. And I'm happy to take a job in data entry if for no other reason than the $13.45 per hour.

Okay, that's the only reason.

Do You Smell That?: I made a gas joke that doesn't make sense because I'm talking about the FX movie Oil Storm. Friends, this is a movie that will make you think. I don't mean to sound all preachy, but it's gonna be a problem whether we want to think about it or not. Oil isn't going to last forever, and nobody seems to be that worried about it. Watch this movie. FX is reairing it this weekend. Saturday at 11 PM and Sunday at 5:30 PM.

More plant pictures. Ready for your close-up? 

Mountains roads. They're beautiful to look at, but riding on them can make you want to throw up. 

See if this picture gives you a headache. 

Top 10: Reasons Hurricane Season Is Like Christmas

That Sound You Hear? » Doin' It Right by Steve Azar
Days Until My 22nd Birthday » 365
Big News » Last week at Chicago's Lakeshore Marathon, runners ended up going 27 miles instead of the traditional 26 because apparently, not everyone knows how to count. The organizers blamed a miscalculation and the fact that, oh yeah, they were guessing! Well done.

Now, today's story...

Last week somebody sent me this list that cracked me up. Hurricane season is now upon us Southeasterners so I felt it was appropriate:


TOP 10: Reasons Hurricane Season Is Like Christmas

10. Decorating the house (a.k.a. boarding up windows)

9. Dragging out boxes that haven't been used since last season (a.k.a. camping gear, flashlights, etc.)

8. Last minute shopping in crowded stores

7. Regularly scheduled television shows being pre-empted for "special programming"

6. Family and friends coming to stay with you

5. Family and friends from out-of-state calling you

4. Buying food you don't normally buy... in large quantities

3. Days off from work

2. Candles

1. At some point you know you're going to have a tree in your house


I thought that was pretty funny. I'll have more stories and pictures this week.

Scrubbing In: I got the first season of Scrubs on DVD and I highly recommend it. There isn't a funnier show out there. The extras are awesome as well. Each cast member talks about his/her experience joining the group. And all of it is hilarious.

That's in the Baltimore Airport near the international terminal. As it looked five years ago, I guess. It was a really nice airport. But I like all airports. 

For everyone who's been wondering for weeks now, this is Jason. And yes, he always walks around shoving that plastic in everyone's face. Weird? Yes.