News Items

I know there isn't much posting going on here, but faithful readers depend on me for certain news items.

Here are some updates:

1. In La Liga, Sevilla is in 3 rd place at the "turn" behind Barcelona and Real Madrid. Not bad company.
2. Go Hawks.
3. The baby (toddler?) was sick this week. Ran a fever, was very lethargic, didn't sleep well, not a lot of fun. She's fine now, everybody is happier, though she misses her orangey ibuprofen syrup.
4. I read Alan Moore's Watchmen, as everyone should. Given to me by a friend, thanks again.
5. I really have no problem with Fergie. She's kind of plasticky, her songs have silly/stupid lyrics, but she's fine people, really, lay off.
6. I agree with lots of things this guy says, but this more than most. Read the book Live From New York if all you want to do is touch yourself and think how great the old Saturday Night Live was. The Bees and Samaurai aren't funny. <---(period)
7. Since I arrived in my new Mexican home, the range of daily highs has moved between 75 and 90 degrees. Daily lows (middle of the night) are at 55 or 65.
8. I got a bunch of letters from former students in the mail. They wrote them in Spanish class shortly after I left using the subjunctive to give me recommendations for my new job. They were heartfelt but grammatically poor, the kids are probably better off with another teacher. I miss the colleagues and students very much, the job not so.
9. We've done lots of inland field trips around the area, but I think we'll honor Dr. King with a trip to the west coast this weekend. A small hotel or an all inclusive? A small hotel where we can get to know the real local culture?!? I live here, man, I've got culture in spades. I want someone in white pants bringing me salt rimmed drinks and a dry towel.
10. I can't find my Kirby Puckett Starting Lineup figure. Does anyone have it? Let me know, kthxbai.
11. Beyonce, on the other hand...her songs have great rhythm, they're catchy, I can bust a move to 'em, but read the lyrics to her songs. Bills Bills Bills. Soldier. Single Ladies. If I Were a Boy... they would make Gloria Steinem roll over in her grave. Beyonce, are you an Independent Woman (part II)? Or do you need a man to marry you, to protect you, to pay for your cell phone? Stop telling me that you'd be a better man and buy your own damned gas.

Sorry. Got off track there.

12. My lovely wife deserves credit for two things this holiday season:
a. Coming through with an entire set of Guitar Hero games for Xmas, and...
b. putting up with me, a sick (but still sweet) baby girl, almost my entire family visiting from the corn belt, all while 3 months pregnant with our next child. We'll see if she makes it through a visit from her family in Feb-March without needing 3 months of bed rest before the June due date. Hopefully we'll have pictures of the little one soon, until then, enjoy these pictures ...

8th post this year! I'm on pace for 8.2

Our long national nightmare is over. Iona has dropped its football program. No longer to we have a heart attack when, while trying to enjoy a sporting event on the television, we see something like "Iona 12 - Marist 38" troll across the screen. "My god," we think, "How bad are things for the Hawkeyes when we not only schedule New England Ivy League wannabees, but we get trounced by them? I thought we were playing the Gophers this weekend!" Speaking of Minnesota, it would be cool if they did like Miami (Oh) and wrote Minnesota (Eh?).

Speaking of the north, I was driving around Mexico today making a visit to the satellite TV office. I noticed a Jeep Cherokee behind me with MN plates. A careful glance in the rearview told me that they were some retired Gringos living at the lake south of the city. "Wonderful," I thought, "they're probably going to the same place as me. We can josh around about my IA plates and their MN plates, maybe even trade some good natured jabs about the big game this weekend. Nope. The white-haired guy stepped/fell out of his SUV. "You're a long way from home," I said. "Iowa's not much closer," he answered accusingly. "This is home now," he added defiantly. In further chit-chat, his wife was more amiable, but this old fart was intent on avoiding pleasant conversation with the only person (other than his wife) with whom he could converse in that office. "Its the last Gopher game in the Metrodome this week," I said. "Yeah, I guess it is," he says. Then I was done. His wife waved bye-bye to me though. I hope the rest of her day wasn't like the 4 minutes I experienced with them.

Today our big furniture/household stuff shipment came in. I got to stay home from work to receive the movers and unpack the stuff. The best part was the mini-Xmas we had when the toddler got to open up boxes of toys she hadn't seen since May. She knows so many more words now, so every stuffed animal to come out of the big microwave box was described to her full potential.

"What this?" or "?Que es eso?" she asked herself in her dialogue with herself. "Doggy." "Frog." "Monkey." ("Monkey" is the go-to answer when she's not sure.) "Lion! Roooaaar!" (That's the lifesize Collie you got for Christmas from Abuelo. Doggie.) [She mounts the Collie and bounces.] "Yi, yi, yi , yi 'ballo!*" "Green! Jump! Jump! Jump!" "Turtle" (No, baby, that's a dinosaur.) "Dinsrra?" (Uhh, yeah.) "?Quien es?" (That's Buzz Lightyear.) "Bzzzlr." "?Quien es?" (That's Ryu.) [She makes punching motions at herself.] "Ouch. Pega!" She also got out her mini pots and pans set. She's really good at pretending, much better than you'd think at 26 mos. She made pretend pancakes and macaroni and cheese for everybody, we didn't even have to ask.

*caballo

Prepare yourselves for the pictures of the playhouse I'm building out of packing boxes. Seriously, make a picture in your head. Now wire that with dynamite and drop the plunger, because whatever you're thinking will be blown away. Seriously, its that awesome.

The other day, in the carpool, the Kenny Rogers classic "Coward of the County" came up on CD. I knew the song was mentioned as a "country classic" but I realized just then that I'd never actually heard the song.

So, the conversation with my coworker went like this:

Me: Is this song about gang rape?

Coworker: And vengeance...justifiable homicide.

Then I go and find out that that was the last country song to reach #1 in the UK.

While you alls are enjoying Hawkeye Football...

As some of you may know, we no longer own real estate in the condo shown above. The deal closed last Friday. It was certainly fun doing it via phone/ fax/ the mails.


On the 11th of this month, I will move into my new digs here, in Guadalajara. I won't go into work until the next day. I post the above picture of a modern downtown because lots of folks, myself included sometimes, get a different idea when a guy says he's moving the family to Old Mexico. Check out somebody's picture tour of the GDL here.

OK, soy mentiroso, We'll actually be living in the large city nearby, Zapopan. It certainly will be a change from my last two addresses in Iowa City and Falls Church, VA.

Anyway, next Friday the 5th, I will take off in the VW for Old Mexico, a quick 2500 mi. jaunt south. I'll be taking recommendations for good stopping points as I traverse the confederacy on my way down. As always, please mention any must-have cuisine and where to get it. Also, any podcast, comedy album, and driving music recommendations are always welcome.

I think I may go to the D.C. United game tonight. Supposedly they know how to tailgate. I was told to show up around 4:30 PM for a night game, so... obviously they don't. Should be fun anyway.

En Mexico se dice "carro"

Well, the news is somewhat tardy, this family will be locating to Guadalajara, Mexico in September. I'll be working for your (and my) Uncle Sam down there, so don't thing I'm defecting or anything. As of now, I'm still in the D.C. area in job training, and the wife and kid are in Spain, being far away from me. (Note to strangers, if I look at your kids too long and want to hug them, it's just 'cause I miss my baby. Same goes for your wife.)

Some of you may be wondering what lowridin' carro will be touring around Mexico in come this fall.

Where here's your answer. Nothing says Vato loco like an '02 Passat Wagon. Daddy is rolling around D.C. right now in this honey wagon. It drives the northern Virginia soccer mamis crazy.

Oh yeah, Cadillac for sale.



(Cadillac pictured is not for sale, nor owned by this author. Anyone interested in a very nice 1988 Cadillac Seville should make an offer.)

Pigs can't fly. Can they swim?

News from Hamilton Co. It was either a tornado or PETA. We know it wasn't a Cyclone because they only get riled up for for the Iowa game.

Seriously, though, stay dry, stay safe, I wish I were there to lend a hand. They all ask me how everyone is doing back in Iowa. I let them know it's nothing we can't handle.

Less seriously, let's hear your "We know it wasn't a Cyclone because..." lines in the comments. I know there are some good ones out there.

Blog News

The propriety of my comments on this blog have come into question. It has come into question whether I should comment on the results of soccer games I have coached. It is questioned whether I should say that I am a teacher and coach to kids ranging from ugly to presentable to not bad, as it reads the blog's header. For your own judgment, you may find links to my posts about the high school girls' soccer team I used to coach at right.

I have used the blog at times as a news outlet to let friends and family read the results of games I have coached. In those posts I have said nothing that I would not have said to a reporter or to a community member. I have tried to address the games honestly looking at the positives and negatives. I have disparaged no individual players, only spoken of our weaknesses as a team. On this blog I have used no names; not mine, not a player's, not a school's. A stranger happening upon the blog would have no way of placing it to a particular school or person. No search engine would direct you to the blog if you searched for a school or a person. Many people already familiar with me or the area would understand the references but they would gain no privileged or personal information about a school or a student/athlete, they would only gain information that could be obtained in an honest conversation with me about the team.

At no point have I posted anything on this blog that I would not (at have not said, in most cases) to my players, their parents, or the school administration. When I found out that a few of the players on the soccer team had read the blog (and many more were talking about it) I printed up all of the posts having to do with soccer so that everyone could make their own judgements on my words instead of relying on word of mouth and others' impression of what I wrote. I willingly presented copies of the posts to my Activities Director and Principal. This blog continues online and no effort has been made to deny or hide the blog.

The most contentious phrase seems to be when I said "Spanish teacher and soccer coach to quite a few kids ranging from ugly to presentable and even up to not bad." For that I have been accused of calling my team ugly. I never meant to call anyone ugly, much less a specific team or class. I simply meant to say that there was a great variety of students in school using adjectives that contrasted with the "beautiful" of the previous sentence. I thought it made for an attractive phrase. There are certainly many differences among the students in my old school, but it is not for me to make those judgements. It was inappropriate of me to use differences in personal appearance as a joke.

In one post from last May I vented my frustration at having an unenviable career coaching record. At that point I was very upset with myself at not being able to coach the team to a victory. I wondered, as I did everyday, as I still do, about what I could do to help move the team forward. I thought about leaving coaching and seeing if someone else would do a better job. I let my frustration out in a post joking that I deserved some sort of recognition or award for being the worst coach in state history. In my post I was unclear, however. I have gone back and read the post and I was very unclear. Many (including one unknown commenter) took it to mean that I was blaming my players or making myself out to be a martyr for going through three winless seasons. I apologize to any of my players who may have felt that I resented them or regretted the time I spent coaching them. This could not be further from the truth. The players who served their time on those winless teams demonstrated far more strength than one who might hang onto a winning team to share in the glory. I apologize to my players for not being able to fix the problems in the time I had. The players depended on me to figure out a solution and I couldn't. I don't believe I'll ever stop thinking about what I could have done differently to better those teams.

This season I served during the first half as an assistant coach. The team did get their wins this season, against a team with whom we'd come closest in past seasons as well as against a team that had given us some of our worst defeats. I will always remember the buzz on the bench as the clock ticked down that first win and the look on the athlete's faces as they ran off the field. All I could think of was how much they deserved it.

As I understand it, a complaint will be filed with the State Board of Education in an effort to take away my coaching license. It was suggested that had I apologized right away to the complaining student and parent all of this could have been avoided. Perhaps that is right but I could not. I am accused of calling my players ugly, and I never did that. I am accused of unfairly disparaging my players on a blog, and I haven't done that. It hurts to think that this will be my legacy there at the school. It hurts to think that any of my former players think that I think of them as ugly or worthless. I would rather that none of this had happened but now I feel I need to fight, regardless of whether I ever plan to teach or coach again.

FOR SALE! PRICES REDUCED!

Iowa City - East Side Triple Crown Condos

2 bedroom/1 bath. 908 sq. ft., ground floor condo w/ walkout patio door. Microwave, oven, refrigerator, washer, dryer, dishwasher. Access to The Clubhouse at Saddlebrook: fitness center, billiard room, computer room, wireless internet access. Plus walking trails and ponds. Security code entrance. Conveniently located on bus-line and close to Fareway grocery store.

Great first home! Contact blogger with inquiries.

Decision: made, pants: shat

Here is the letter I sent to my colleagues at work:

Two years ago, in April 2006, I passed the Foreign Service Written Exam and in November 2006 I passed the Foreign Service Oral Exam. Later, after many tests, needle pricks, x-rays, personal questions, informal audits, grilling of family, friends, and some staff around here, I received my Medical Clearance and Security Clearance. I was then placed on the Foreign Service List of Eligible Hires, a ranked list based on my scores on the Oral Exam and the language test. Two weeks ago my rank crept high enough for me to be called among 12 others to take part in the May class as a Consular Affairs Junior Officer (there are normally four classes each year). I received the offer via email on a Wednesday and had to decide by that Friday afternoon.

After a not many days but many tough hours, my wife and I decided that this is what we wanted to do. I would have preferred to finish the school year, but there were no guarantees that my number would be reached again before my time on the list expired (new candidates enter the list when they receive clearance and stay there for 18 months). I have held this as a possible career option for a long time and by almost every measure now is the most opportune time to make a move.

Last night the board accepted my resignation, effective April 25. On May 12 I will begin training in Washington, D.C. in the US Foreign Service (a division of the State Dept.). After a few weeks in training I will receive my first posting assignment (based on the open posts, needs of the Department, my qualifications, and, finally, my preferences) and at the end of a few months of training I will ship out to serve at the post, a US Embassy or Consulate somewhere, out there.

In other news, I cut my hair last night and the result most resembles this:

(Less than) TRIUMPHANT RETURN!

Watched "Across the Universe" the other day. I'm calling it a "Scary/Date/Epic Movie" of political imagery. Instead of saying something (or not saying anything, for that matter) it made fleeting reference to everything about the late sixties - much like "Meet the Spartans" doesn't make jokes, it just reminds you of jokes that other people made.

I had hoped to like the movie. I like The Beatles*. I liked Moulin Rouge. I liked the singing. I just get tired of the forced reverence for the 60s that we have to endure in every dramatization of the era. It's like the baby boomers got sick of Toms Brokaw and Hanks pushing World War II down our throats and said "Hey, we're pretty awesome and deserve respect." What percentage of Americans were actually hippy protesters? 3%? 7%? Hollywood wants us to believe 120% of Americans loved peace and dropped acid then The Man screwed it all up? Maybe they resent later generations for not showing proper reverence and this is their corrective propaganda. SUCK ON THAT HOLLYWOOD LIBERALS! p.s. make another Karate Kid. What's Daniel San up to now that Mr. Miyagi has passed?

Got an email on Tuesday afternoon, didn't see it until Wednesday morning. The US State Department offered me a job starting on May 12 in D.C. After they'd teach me some stuff they'd send me (us) out to Jimbobwe or Oblivia or someplace. They gave me all the way until close-of-business on Friday to accept. My stomach's had that chair-about-to-tip-over feeling all day.

This after we've been looking at houses in the IC area all weekend. Getting ready to put down roots.

*I also enjoy pizza and think puppies are cute. What? You too? We have so much in common.

'Stache Bash '07

Happy Halloween! (Post not Halloween related)

I was going to do an R.I.P post with all the passings lately, but I got beat fair and square. One passing, the Redheaded Stranger failed to mention was one Porter Wagoner. Take a look at one of my favorite songs. (One time, at a party, I met another Dolly Parton fan and we talked about how we'd like to visit Dollywood sometime. I wondered if there was a Karaoke stage where one could do Dolly's hits. I think the girl chose Jolene [excellent choice, btw]. I chose Porter Wagoner's part in Daddy Was an Old Time Preacher Man. Check out the harmony on "I'm on my way/ to Canaan's land..."


As long as I'm posting, I should catch y'all up.

1. I coached a runner to the State Cross Country Meet. He got 34th overall. I am now a State-level High School Coach. Please show proper respect next time you see me.

2. Somehow, I'm on Barack Obama's mailing and call lists.

3. The last tailgate of the year, Central Michigan at Iowa, has been designated a 'Stache Bash. To be in the running for any prizes or recognition, one must present themselves with a mustache. No goatees or beards will be recognized. One must be clean-shaven except for the upper lip; any hair proceeding from the lip must end separately and not join up under the mouth or with sideburns. Anyone tailgating without a mustache is expressly forbidden from walking around like they're cool or something. 'Cause you're not. You don't have a mustache, and this is a 'Stache Bash.

4. I played HS basketball against Dallas Clark then followed him closely here at Iowa. I have also spent many hours learning languages in Phillips Hall. That's why I love this video.


5. As long as I'm linking, here's a link to a list of ugly and frightening soccer players. I enjoy "Ugliest Sports Figure" posts; too much, probably, but here we are.

6. Last week, House stated firmly that it would not delve into the supernatural and betray our trust (the limits of our suspension of disbelief have been set - House is a science show, not a freakological show.) by making clear that the girl couldn't see dead people (although they did tease us in the commercials). This week, the guy who played the bass player in The Doors movie and one of the dudes who gets shot in Pulp Fiction can imitate people's innermost emotions when in close proximity. Kind of sketchy, House.

7. In other news, Ghost Whisperer still talks to ghosts, often in a normal speaking voice. The Private Practice is going well and I couldn't care less, and Pushing Daisies still show promise as well as glaring faults. Chuck doesn't do as much for me as it would have 10 years ago, and Heroes suffers from Lost syndrome.

8. Guitar Hero III and two axes will set up residence at my pad this week. Anytime anyone's up, you know I am. (Rumor has it the Devil make a trip to Georgia in this version.)

9. If you owe the team money for the Lap-a-thon, pay up, God is watching.

10. Wow, an even ten! I never thought I'd get here when I started this post. I'll talk about soccer. Sevilla's manager left to coach at Tottenham. Eff him. He and the president never got along. Sevilla's president is one of the slimiest people in Spain, so you can't blame him. But do, anyway, just for esses and giggles. Then Sevilla (with the junior team coach) crushed Valencia (traditional power) last week causing their manager to be fired and replaced by a Dutchman, then Sevilla lost to Atletico 4-3 today, which is like 49-45 in futbol americano. Here are Sevilla's uniforms this year (YAY--> red socks with red uni, shoulder color block, red sash on the junior team uni, pink not all that offensive. BOO --> more black socks, team president is bald and a convicted white-collar criminal, the kind who thinks that there's nothing wrong with that and that jail is for the poor and darker-colored.):

Here's me in 2002.

Yes, that's ham, in Spain, with three Frenchwomen, an Englishman, and an Italianman.

Lap-a-thon Results!

A BIG THANKS to all who donated, the lap-a-thon was quite a success.

Ole' Coach ran 33 laps around the track, that's 8 1/4 miles.

The team ran 443 laps, including Coach's 33.

Our fastest runner completed 36 laps.

Our slowest completed 25 laps.

On average, we completed 29.53 laps.

So, um, if you could, um, find a way to get the cash to me, I'd greatly appreciate it. Have a great weekend!

BTW, I'll have some pretty good chili dogs ready for tomorrow's tailgate. Bean-free and bean-full versions available. And some really old peach schnapps that we'll mix with Sunny D to make something akin to a Fuzzy Navel.

Lap-a-thon!

Tomorrow, Thursday, October 11, my Cross Country Team will be running a Lap-a-thon. What's a Lap-a-thon, you say? Well, we'll put 1 hour up on the clock at the track and start running. Our goal is to run as many laps as we can in order to cash in on the nickel, dime, quarter, or dollar that our friends, neighbors and relatives pledged per lap. Confused? Here's an example. Little Billy runs 20 laps in the hour. Billy's neighbor pledged 10 cents (cheapskate) for every lap, so Billy's neighbor would donate $2 to our Cross Country Team.

Yes, ole' Coach (me) will be running, too. I'm asking friends of this blog to sponsor me for anything they can spare. If you want, challenge me. Give me a buck for every lap I run over a certain number or after a certain time. Or, if you want, sponsor our whole team (14 runners). Give 'em all a dime or a quarter for their laps and hard work.

Call me/Email me/Comment here to make your pledge. I know this isn't cancer or refugees or anything, but it's better than donating to Barack or Hillary or Fred Thompson, no?

Like living in Hollywood.

I was finishing up cross country practice on Friday at the track and the JV football team was making their way onto the field to begin warm-ups. I look over to the sideline and the early arrivers are lining up against the fence to kibitz and network and politic and what-not.

One group features a large, white-haired dude with a polo shirt from GameDay Iowa, a Coralville Strip Hawkeye Merchandise Retailer. All the guys there have on GameDay printed clothes. I remember someone telling me that one of the kids' dad works there and it hits me.

THE GameDayRon is at the JV football game.

Most Hawkeye fans will be familiar with Ron because of his popular store. TRUE* Hawkeye fans will know him for his trademark ridiculous, self-promoting, GameDay-tying-in posts that used to appear on Iowa Message Boards. This guy is the owner of one of my favorite message board slams, the target of which was GameDayRon hisself. I'm not sure if it can still be linked, but that guy should definitely try and find it.

Personally, I don't like the guy because his store seems to avoid style and taste with a ten-foot pole. You can be guaranteed that any wares from his store feature an idiotic, insensitive, non-nonsensical, outdated, and inaccurate (considering Hawkeye results of late) slogan or graphic. That slogan or graphic will look like it was designed by an 8th grade class using 1989 computer programs in 1992. And for selling Floyd of Rosedale replica trophies that are bronze-painted chubby pig statues (like the ones that Iowans have on their tchotchke shelves - not all Iowans, just the ones that think Big Red gum is spicy).

Really, the guy has done nothing to me, but he just pushes my buttons.

Then on Sunday I was at the Paul's Discount with the folks. (A visit from the folks rarely excludes a visit to Paul's.) As we we're leaving I make eye contact with a guy that politely nods back, as if he was used to being recognized. As he should be, as he is Todd Lickliter, new UI B-Ball Coach.

Me : Hi, Coach.
Coach: Hi there.
Me: You found a good spot.
Coach: [Thinks if I mean Iowa City or Paul's itself.] A good spot?
Me: Paul's. It's a good store.
Coach: Oh yeah, I know. [Walks away wanting to run.]

*TRUE Hawkeye fans post on message boards about potential recruits that if they come to Iowa are the next Bob Sanders and if they go to ISU are blood traitors and never would've seen the field at Kinnick.

Out of town.

So I'll be on a little trip for the next cuppla days. I'm leaving Wednesday afternoon for Our Nation's Capital and I ain't coming back until Sunday.

A couple weeks ago I got a call from the superintendent about the trip. She said that the Spanish consulate (with whom we do business on a teacher exchange) wanted to send one of our district's teacher to D.C. for a conference on Spanish and U.S. relations in history and such. There would be university-types giving lectures and so forth. The consulate wanted someone who spoke fluent Spanish, studied history (maybe even has a degree and teaching certificate in history), and, if at all possible, taught a history course in Spanish. It occurred to our administration that I might fit the bill. This concurred with my Spaniard- colleague's recommendation to the same contact at the consulate. The consulate asked my colleague for a few recommendations. She refused to give them more than my name.

So the superintendent calls and asks me if I want to go, and it sounds cool, but I don't really know how to ask about the money in situations like this, so I kind of stutter. Then the boss says that the Spanish Embassy would pick up my plane tickets, hotel, and food bills. I said "uummmmmmmYes."

I'm staying at the Washington Plaza, which is closer to the White House than the Capitol.

On Friday I have to go to a cocktail party hosted by the Spanish Ambassador. I hope he has a computer so I can check my fantasy teams.

!Machotastico!

In an assignment a student wanted to either wanted to say "I'm male/masculine" (Soy masculino) or "I'm muscular" (Soy musculoso). What came out was "Soy musculino," which is now the greatest adjective ever.

Real fans know how to sit up and support their own head.

Let's see your baby do that.

As soon as the second picture was taken, she was up the stairs in, like, 2.3 sec. Do you know what 40 yd time that indicates? Blazing. Like, 4.1. She could take DJK.

Brother Against Brother

On Saturday the two storied football programs of our great state will once again do battle on the gridiron. Every year we all like to make our predictions; some have already made their picks. Some hath loosed the annual floodgate on a stream of anti-Cyclone remarks. Some have expressed their uneasiness at the thought of the Hawks venturing into the snake pit that is Jack Trice Stadium in Ames.

Las Vegas started the spread at 17 and it has since gone up to 18, a sign that Vegas originally thought more of the Cyclones than the betting public. Bibguy seems to think the game will be a lot closer, at 21-17. Our RHS puts it at 27-10. I think Bibguy is just playing possum, hoping the humility will make the sports God smile upon the Hawkeyes.

In past years where Iowa has been heavily favored I have stuck up for the Cyclones. In 2004 the Hawks were favored by 15 or so; I took the Cyclones and the points and walked away a slightly less-poor man.

Not this year. As long as the spread is under 20, take the Hawks. In my (ISU alumni ) father's words :"They should just cancel the game this year, save everybody some time."

See you all at the game. Watch out for those unkempt hillbillies rooting for the Cow College and stick close to the classy folk of Iowa's more metropolitan place of learning, the U of I.

BTW, keep a look out for ISU's throwback unis. I likes.

Sad day for Sevilla

Antonio Puerta, a 22-year old defender for Sevilla FC and some time national team member, has died after collapsing on the field on Saturday and suffering multiple heart attacks since. Puerta was a home-grown talent and rising star in Sevilla.

After exactly 24 hours of travel from Sevilla to my front door...

Sorry to leave you all so long with the Rod Beck post hanging up there. Oh well, it's a nice tribute that a blog with readership in the tens gives his tribute top billing for two months. Any way, I'm back in Iowa after baking for two months in Spain's oven, Seville. I left a place that was sizzling at 110-120 degrees every afternoon at 50-60% humidity to a place that sits at 80-90 degrees and about the same humidity. Old people like to talk about the weather and the heat in Iowa and Arizona and stuff, but I say that if you're in the mood for warm weather, it's all fun, if not, then the heat is bad. There, I just ended the GD heat conversation forever. Now all you old people can spend you time discussing the rain or how you couldn't understand the cashier at Wendy's because of her tongue ring.
The rest of this summer I'll try to relax in IC and prepare for teaching school again. I've got all new textbooks this year with tons of resources, so that'll make my job easier, but it could also make it more boring. I have to be careful not to set myself on autopilot and just pass out worksheets and tell the kids to do some exercises out of the book.
On Monday I'll start a new job, coaching Boys' and Girls' Cross Country. Our current AD/Dean was the coach but he left the job to have more time after 3:00 PM to tend to the delinquents. So that'll be fun and new in the Fall. BTW, If you see me developing a lithe and sexy runner's body, don't feel the need to compliment me, it's just the price I pay to put a little more food on the table and buy the extra-absorbent Huggies.
Piece out.

PS, are the people who got married last week but are celebrating it this weekend registered anywhere?

The Shooter

The ole´ Bibguy beat me to the Rod Beck RIP post, so I´ll just add my $.02 and we´ll be on our way.

Rod Beck was awesome because he came from the John Kruk School of ¨Lady, I´m not an athlete, I´m a baseball player¨-Baseball. He had the only mustache that is acceptable for a baseball player to wear. Google image search these fellas. They´ll show you how to wear a mustache.

Rod Beck
Goose Gossage
All the Yankees in Major League, most notably Clue Heywood and The Duke
Dan Gladden
Todd Jones
Donnie Baseball

I´m sure I´m forgetting somebody, but you guys can fill in the blanks. My point is that Rod Beck was overweight, wore a mullet and and a biker ´stache, probably only showered on days after he pitched.

Beck was also, as Bibguy points out, a member of the glorious 1998 Cub playoff team, possibly one of the ugliest teams in Major League history.

Here´s Kevin Tapani.


Here´s Gary Gaetti, Micky Morandini, and Jeff Blauser. Poor Mark Grace had to look across the infield at this every inning.

(Please remember that by 1998 Mark Grace was no longer the young, blonde Cubs pin up he was in 1987. He had long since embarked on his post-baseball career of off-color radio commentary and hitting on chicks in Wrigleyville. As Gaetti says, ¨Very nice! How much?¨)

Kerry Wood had one of the scurviest goatees in the majors at that point. Sammy Sosa´s charm excused him from any ugliness. If you have some time right now, go find some Micky Morandini picture. You´ll enjoy it. Morandini and Willie McGee are the Mantle and Mays of homely.

Check out this geocities website dedicated to discussing the 1998 Cubs. How does this not get erased after NINE YEARS without any visitors. If three of you go and visit at once the whole thing will come crashing down.

BTW, anyone looking for pics of fmr. Cubs catcher Tyler Houston should put their Google image filter on high before setting out. Or not. I´m just saying. There´s more than one Tyler Houston.

That´s all I had to add. Thank you and good night.

Here, a more talented writer talks more about mustaches.

La equipacion, parte II

Earlier I posted about my favorite soccer team, Sevilla FC, and their ever changing and rarely pleasing uniforms this year. Over the course of the season they had worn six different uniforms and I predicted that there would be a seventh worn in the final of the Copa del Rey played 23 June.

I was correct, there was another uniform, and yes, Sevilla won 1-0 winning their first Copa del Rey in 59 years and capping their best season ever (third place La liga, qualified for the Champions League, UEFA Cup champions, Supercup Champions). Here is the uniform, hope you enjoy.

A boring story with a payoff that may not interest you.

So, my tickets to Spain were for the 25th of June. My wife has been over in Spain since May 27th but I set my reservations for three weeks after school got out in anticipation of having to take care of various affairs and arrangements around IC. It turns out I won't know anything about possible new jobs until early July, so I figured Why not go over to Spain earlier?

On my ticket it clearly states that I may only change my reservation by paying a $200 fee + the difference in fare. I checked online and, according to the internets, there was no difference in ticket price so I figured that $200 was a small price to pay to see the wife and kid two weeks sooner.

I called up US Airways, explained what I wanted to do, and the guy told me "Oh, I'll have to transfer you to the international dept." I was transferred there and re-explained my purpose. The guy tells me that I'll have to pay the $250 difference in fare. I tell him that I'm looking at the price online right now and its the same. He tells me that that is the internet price. I tell him that I want the internet price. He tells me that I can't have it because I've already bought the ticket. He also tells me he's sorry about that. I suspect that, in actuality, he is not. My tone becomes noticeably less agreeable when I tell him that I am no longer interested in the transaction. He apologizes again. Why do telephone operators do that? Does the company train them to say "sorry" because they think it atones for numerous "eff you" policies?

I think about the $450 hike in my ticket for a couple days. In the end I decide its worth it and check again online for the special web price. This time it's gone up over $200. I wonder if that means the non-special price for already-paid customers has gone up accordingly. A $650-700 price hike would definitely put me off changing my travel plans. I called up US Airways anyways because I had some free time during my end-of-the-year teacher workday and I thought it might be fun to argue with the foreign guy at the international flights desk. I call in, explain my purpose fully, then am notified that I need to be transferred to the international desk. In the transfer I am cut off. I call again and tell the operator immediately that I need to talk to the international desk. She seems surprised that I am so acquainted with the process. I explain to Pedro at the international desk what I want to do. He explains that "you will have to pay a $200 change-of-reservation fee." I tell him, yes, I know, and I want him to check on the difference in fare.

I'm on hold for three minutes.

Pedro picks up again. "It will be just the $200 fee, sir."

I double check the details to make sure I'm not buying a flight in July or 2008. He confirms but seems a bit unsure and confused. I am put on hold again. This time for five minutes. I wonder if he's rechecking his screw-the-ticketbuyer protocols.

"Yes, sir, that will be just the $200. May I have your credit card number?"

So, good, I may have saved some cash depending on your definition, but I do get to land in sunny Spain next Wednesday morning, just in time to see the last week of La liga and the final of the Copa del Rey. I take off Tuesday morning at 8:00 or something from the CID. Any and all summer frivolities with this guy must be taken care of before that time. You know where to find me.

#265 in 2006

This is quite fun. Its the Baby Name Wizard. Type in a name to see its popularity over the last 100 years.

Please comment below with the amount of time wasted there and any interesting finds.

My finds:
"Bart" disappears after 1989.
"Frylock" not at all popular.
"Shakira" has meteoric rise in the 1990s.
No one names their sons and daughters "Gay," "Gayle," or "Gayla" anymore.

Undskyld, Danmark.

My famous Danish friend, back for a visit.

Here we are, representin' in front of the refridgeration unit outside our old HS lunchroom. The scene is artfull reflected in the roof of the rented PT

Visiting the regions most profitable crops, corn and moving air.

That t-shirt is older than our friendship.

If any of you like soccer, read up on Saturday's Denmark - Sweden match. Priceless.

Catching you up on my extensive adventures

Back in May my distant Norweigan cousin visited Iowa to spend a few weeks on the farm helping my dad and seeing how American agriculture works. He's an airport fireman and a part-time farmer, so that's not nearly as horrible vacation as it sounds. Also, being Norwiegan, he is obligated to take sixteen paid weeks of vacation every year. That figure may or may not be correct, but I know its more than the one personal day I have each school year.

Here we are, myself, cousin Ole Martin, and my li'l sis on interior staircase of the Old Capitol.

Here's daddy and baby enjoying a sunny Sunday.

We saw Iowa City's finest out "keeping their fire engine clean" as Lennon and McCartney say. We stopped and talked about gallons per minute flow, response time, and the latest in not-getting-burned-up technology.

...and prosper

So on Sunday the wife, the baby, my sister and I all drove out to O'Hare Airport. They all got on the plane and I drove back solo, first singing along with sad country songs, then, after drinking an energy drink at an oasis to keep from driving off the road, screaming along with some RAWK. I don't drink a lot of those super-energy drinks, so this one hit me kind of hard. I had to hold onto the wheel to keep my hands from shaking. I got home at 7 and spent the next four hours cleaning the condo.

Anyhow, it was a tough goodbye. You can read all about it here. The worst part is when I wake up in the morning and I'm alone in bed and there's no one calling for me in the next room. It's a great feeling seeing a baby's face light up when you walk in her room in the morning to pick her up and to get her pants with less poop in them.

Here's a little image from the despedida.

It was a tough moment, but in the back of my mind I had this in my head.

Hang 'em up?

0-37

My career varsity coaching record is a flawless 0-37. Thee seasons, 37 consecutive varsity girls' soccer defeats to seven different teams. Sure, there were JV wins and ties. Last year the JV was .500. But against the big girls with the new uniforms, 0-and-effing-37.

Doesn't that have to be some sort of record? Three winless seasons? I want some sort of recognition for this.

Pencils UP!

I'm a Spanish and English teacher and anyone in the business will tell you that we need to use a lot of imagery to teach vocabulary and grammar. It's always better to associate a new word with the image or idea of the meaning rather than the corresponding word in the native language.

As such, we use a lot of clip art and google image searching to find little pictures and drawings for our tests and worksheets. For example, if I wanted you to learn the word manzana I would use pictures of apples to relate the idea and image of an apple rather than repeating the English word apple a jillion times.

Today, I found a little website that specializes in clip art for language teachers. Its great because it divide the images up in things like "adjectives for people" and "beach activities" and things like that. I clicked on the "body parts" page for some good elbow and knee drawings and found that they also had some helpful pics for learning medical or emergency terms, just in case a fresh off the boat student had to explain something quick to a doctor or school nurse.

Here I leave for you, my readers, a short vocab quiz. Answer in any language you like. The image cues are in descending order of severity and urgence and disturbingalitily. Post your answers in the comments.

10.

9.

8.

7.

6.

5.

4.

3.

2.

1.

Lazy Sunday

Driving to Chicago and back today, dropping off the wife and kid at ORD. They're going to Spain until August 18th. I'll join 'em at the end of June.

La equipacion

Last night Sevilla FC won the UEFA Cup for the second year in a row. Next week they play in the final of the King's Cup and they are currently one win out of 1st place in the Spanish league. They are the only team in Europe with possibilities of a "Treble," that is winning their league, their national tournament, and a European tournament (yes, I know, if they want to match Man U [the last team to do it] they have to have won the Champion's League, not the UEFA cup, but my team's still better than your team. It is. I looked it up.)

But I'm not here to talk about trophies and cups, I'm here to talk about uniforms. Inspired by uniwatch and a friend's post, here I present to you a very recent history of Sevilla's uniforms. And, no, they aren't all winners. Not every team can be Barcelona. Special thanks to this site for giving me a lot of pics. Special thanks to the Japanese in general for creating a fan site for just about everything. I'll bet you there's a Japanese fan site for the Chinese national team.

Let's start with Sevilla's escudo, or shield. Use this as a starting point for imagining appropriate colors and designs. We see red and white, giving Sevilla its rojiblancos nickname. We also see gold accents and old bishops. The red and gold match the colors of the Sevillan and Spanish flags. The bishops indicate old, classic things. Notice they are not leaning forward aggressively, nor snarling, nor wackily playing the sport their logo represents.

Let's look next at the other uniforms from this decade (roughly the time I've been del Sevilla.

The whites.

The reds.

The alternates.

The UEFA specials.

I like the reds up there (I own the second) and the alternates are pretty neat. The purple one was meant to reflect Sevilla Holy Week traditions. The powder blue one just kicks A. (I own the navy one) The UEFA specials don't do much for me.

Let's move on to the 2006-2007 campaign.

This year's home whites are almost excusable if we disregard the fact that BLACK IS NOT A TEAM COLOR and that paint splotches are never cool, ever.

The away reds are orange. ORANGE WITH RED AND BLACK PAINT STREAKS. Oh, and black socks. Black socks just like the home whites. Yep, pretty horrible. At least the actual orange came out better than in the original design.

Here you see the alternate uniforms for league play. The less said the better. At least they have the option of blue socks. (The middle pic is the only action shot I could find of the blue alternates. I think the photogs boycotted the uniform.)

Sevilla started out the '06-'07 campaign in the Supercopa, a game matching the UEFA winners against the Champion's League champs Barcelona. Sevilla crushed the favored Catalans 3-0 wearing these dignified all whites. Obviously these uniforms were so simple and classic that they could only put them on for one game played in Monaco.

During the UEFA tournament played against qualifying teams from all over Europe, Sevilla wore these. I like 'em. Stripes beat streaks any day. As always, burn the black socks. What's so horrible about white or red? (Notice it comes in short and long sleeves. Also notice Osasuna's goalkeeper in pink and mullet.)

Approaching yesterday's UEFA final I feared that the whole world would watch Sevilla win the cup wearing one of their horrible black, blue and orange concoctions. Cooler heads prevailed and the club presented a special UEFA finals kit. It's blood red with white numbers and it carries the escudo on the chest and a small Spanish flag on the back of the neck. Breathtaking, I say, just keep your eyes above the knees to miss the black socks. I imagine I'll be on the hunt for one this summer.

So, that's six uniforms in a season (with time remaining for the team to come out with a King's Cup special).

My Saturday.

I had been saving up my cans and bottles for about a year and a half, piling them up in my garage. Many times I thought about just chucking the garbage bags full of cans and the boxes of empty bottles into the dumpster. I thought about tossing them into the fundraising bin out in WL to help by fireworks or pay for youth sports or something. I thought about pulling up to Hy-vee, putting the empties in a cart, and giving them to the first guy who looked like he needed the can-redemption cents. I did that last time I had a full bag and was left with a sense of self-satisfaction that allowed me to not recycle paper or give change to beggars for the next year and a half.

Like I said, I had been saving up cans for quite a while and decided that I wanted my garage space back and that Saturday was the day to give up a good hour to redeeming cans and bottles. I had promised myself that I would use my redemption monies to buy the best bottle of liquor available for the resulting sum. I pulled my wife's car around to the garage and filled up the trunk and the entire back seat with redeemables. The air inside the Pontiac was sticky with the smell of stale beer and aluminum.

Once I got to Hy-vee, I decided to redeem the glass first. I knew I had at least $7 in Bud Select bottles alone. My father-in-law deemed that his favorite beer upon his arrival last fall and we had seven 20-packs of empties stacked in the garage by the time he left. Apart from that were various six-pack cartons of assorted high-end and low-end beers (depending on whether they were from a gathering with my high-class friends or low-end). The other bottles went first and then the Bud Select cases. In the last corner of the last case of bottles that I fed into the counting machine I found a full bottle. For some reason this exited me and I shouted out to the two other Can Bums in the redemption center "Hey! I got a full one!" They shouted back "Hey! All right!" sincerely sharing in my excitement. If there were some college kids or suburban moms there they would've just sneered with disgust or made some sarcastic remark. But these guys were just as jazzed as me about my find. Bearded Can Bum #1 raised his finger and looked at me implying "Uh, hey...if you're not gonna drink that…uh" I knew exactly what he meant and I couldn't think of a reason not to give him the bottle. I handed it over and the can bums thanked me as if that was the nicest thing anyone had done for them all year.

I walked back out the car to load up the aluminum cans thinking about the state of that beer. It had been in the garage during the end of the hot fall, through the winter, and back into spring, meaning that it had been brewed a bit more than the desired and then frozen and thawed a couple of times. My "I'm such a Samaritan" feeling diminished. By the time I got back to the redemption center the can bums were gone and a larger crowd of collegians, dad and kids, and other (surlier) can bums had replaced them. I jostled and pushed my cart through the crowd and fed my cans into the machines. I imagine the scene as a cross between a NYSE trading floor and a Russian market on bread and eggs day - disorder, positioning, weary glances, desire to get business done and go home. I finished my cans, grabbed my vouchers and headed out. On the way out I saw the gifted Bud Select sitting on the windowsill. They'd pushed the cap back on after taking a swig each. Say what you want about the homeless, they won't stoop to drinking flat skunky beer. My hat is off to you, gentlemen.

I went inside Hy-vee and checked out the liquor selection. I decided on Irish Whiskey. After considering Jameson, I opted for trying a new brand, Bushmill's. My $34.55 allowed me to buy the full liter ($29.99) with cash to spare. I took it up to the main counters (not the liquor cashiers) and the girls tries to scan the bottle but fails. "Um, do you know how much this was?" she says between gum chews. "I think $29.99." "OK." [she trusts me and punches in $29.99] They always trust you on the price. I never have the guts to tell 'em "Oh, it was $12.50." If they ask me how much a a $1.98 box of pancake mix cost I'd tell the truth and then walk away thinking "I should have said $1.12!"

Moral of the story: I've got a bottle of Bushmill's, come on over friends, we open it up and share a drink.

That is good.

I found it unacceptable that my Spanish III class didn't know what "lament" or "lamentable" or "lamentation" meant (the word is almost identical in Spanish) and the only way I could think of to explain it to them without a straight dictionary definition was this video.

Things I learned this morning

For Notre Dame's spring football "Blue and Gold Game," they brought back Ara Parseghian and Lou Holtz (with the help of current assistants) to coach the sides, while current head coach Charlie Weiss sat back and took it all in. Raise you hand if you thought that Parseghian (the coach that Dan Devine [played by the "crafty veteran" pitcher in Major League] replaced in Rudy) was still alive. LIARS. YOU THOUGHT HE WAS DEAD, JUST LIKE ME. SHUT IT! JUST SHUT IT RIGHT NOW!

Oh, and they banned a student from campus for five months for wearing a ski mask to class. Here's the link. The picture makes me think of the time that Hawkeye fans cheered louder for Ed Hinkel and Chad Greenway in their last game and not as much for Clinton Solomon and Abdul Hodge, even though the latter pair had more TDs and tackles, respectively*. (And don't say "more heart." Anyone who says that Greenway played with more heart than Hodge probably makes "'Round here we call it James Earl Ray Day" jokes on the third Monday of January.

"He was a student attending class," Iowa City police Sgt. Troy Kelsay said. "It was totally innocent." <-- That's a quote from the article. So why did Dean Jones ban him? Maybe he doesn't want him getting a degree and a job so he can take care of his newborn baby. The Virginia Tech community is rallying around its President in support of his actions last Monday. I'm hoping and predicting that the opposite will happen here.

*in this author's estimation of career stats. may or may not be accurate.

Soccer at George Washington's Home, 4/25/07

Another loss. 4-1. Monday's hat trick girl got our goal in the first half. We only played the varsity match due to the 45 degree temperature and steady rain. Gorgious soccer weather, I tell you. Our keeper, despite the four goals, made 5 saves where she left her feet diving left or right. And on eight or so others she had herself positioned to be right in front of the shot.

The girls are finally starting to be more agressive and physical on defense, something I've been begging them to do for three years. Last year it took us nine games before our first foul. This year after two games we've had fouls from the start and last night our scorer was actually warned by the ref for a slide tackle. He patted his breast pocket while telling her that next time she'd get a card.

All in all, we had horrible weather, shivering girls, last year's conference champs (and undefeated this year), and complimentary hot chocolate after the game from their concession stand. 4-1 isn't a bad result for a team that's beat us 34-0 over 5 games in the past two years (and it could've been more, this team has always been one of the more sporting in not running up the score).

Next stop, this Friday at the Tanger Outlet to face said town/Ashton's High School's shared team.

soccer wrap

Lost last night, 6-3 at home to the school that rhymes with vagina. One of our forwards had a hat trick. I expect her to have 3/4 of our goals this season. Our other forward didn't get a shot off. Needs to be more aggressive in getting the ball (especially loose balls) as well as moving without it, but it's tough to teach hustle and drive.

The game started well when we scored first about 15 m in. They equalised on an own goal (our girl was trying to clear out a corner kick). They got another goal off a good corner kick. Their star midfielder took the ball directly out of the air into the back of the net. That midfielder won the Golden Sombrero (hat trick + 1) last night. Needless to say, we'll be working on defending the corner kick and marking the other team's best player tonight in practice.

We went into half tied at two. They came out and scored the next two, we got our last to make it 4-3 before they got two more late as our girls tired. Their coach was impressed by our aggressiveness, as noted by his post match comments to me and the paper. I thought our defense played pretty tough, it's just that they have a lot of girls that can handle the ball and can put up a well-placed shot from anywhere in the penalty area.

One item of note, I got to see an indirect free kick from about two yards out from the goal. Our defender played the ball back to the keeper and she picked it up (a no-no), so we had to set up a wall in the small space between the other team's kicker and the goal, all the while I'm shouting at our girls that one girl was going to tap the ball to a teammate and she was going to shoot immediately (we hadn't exactly gotten to this sitch in practice.) I should mention that our bench was about 70 yards away from the action. Our wall held and we knocked it out, giving them a corner, which has to be considered a success.

We also had a slight injury, and in order to stop play so the injured could exit the field, the star of the other team sportingly kicked the ball out of bounds. I made my substitution and then had to explain to our girls to throw it in and then kick it back out, returning the ball to the other team's possession. That was another thing we hadn't addressed in practice.

One final note: spell check tells me that I misspelled aggressive twice in this article. I feel really stupid now, especially due to the famous high school cheer "Be aggressive, be be be aggressive, B E A G G R E S S I V E. BE AGGRESSIVE." They spell it in the cheer. This would be like misspelling "respect."

mas futbol hoy.

Another match at home tonight against [rhymes with 'vagina'].
Probably a stronger team than last Wednesday's opponent. I know today's team has more star power than last week's.

So tired from this weekend.

Here's another pic from the dodgeball game, this one published in the local paper.

Soccer Coach's recap - 4/18/07 at MP

First game of the season tonight. We played at their field. Ten minutes into the game the ref calls a hand ball on them inside the penalty area. Our girl knocks in the PK. 1-0 us. Stays that way until half. I have to sit on them at halftime to keep them from floating up in the air. Our girls have never had a lead before, much less a lead at half. The other team comes out and scores one about 15 minutes into the second. 1-1 all. Then their girl lofts a beautifully arcing free kick over our keeper's hands, 1-2 them. Our girls are destroyed. They thought they had something. Then they battle back. Our girl do a wonderful give and go. The forward came back to the ball and the mid-fielder overlapped and ran ahead into space. The forward made the pass and all the mid-fielder had to do was kick it into the corner of the net. Wonderful. 2-2 all. Time runs out in regulation. ITS SUDDEN DEATH OVERTIME! (Actually, we call it "sudden victory" now.) I tell our girls to go out and try to score the first goal, to hell with playing 9 girls back on defense. They do great. They take the ball down to the opponents end. They get a shot off! NO! Corner kick, for us. Its a nice kick...knocked out by them. Another corner. OK kick...and its cleared away. They boot the ball ahead to the other half of the field..but our defense has pressed too far up hoping for the final score. They've got to rush to get back. The ball's deflected outward, but their wings pick it up...cross to the middle...score. Ball's in the back of the net. Our girls flop to the ground. Tears well up in their eyes. So close to that first win. Their first win ever. They have to wait 'till next week. But we all have to try and sleep while thinking about what might have been.

As promised

Photos from the Teacher/Student Dodgeball Clash. (Click for big pics.)

Here you see this blog's author and his co-workers warming up and stretching out.

Here are some action shots.


If any of you ladies need a cigarette break, we'll all understand.

Kids today.

Today as some sort of Friday the 13th prize, we ran a shortened schedule in school and are spending the last hours of the day in fun activities and a pep rally (where there will be a student/teacher dodgeball SHOWDOWN!)

Students could sign up for things like cooking, fashion, art, ping-pong, dodgeball, basketball, punt pass kick, math bowl, quiz bowl, 3 on 3, board games, etc. I'm running the video games room and we've got three systems hooked up in my classroom right now. Guitar Hero II is on the big screen with the stereo speakers. The kids are good. They should be. They practice 2-3 hours a day. But here's the thing. Guitar Hero is just like any video game for them. It's supposed to be a way for air guitar dreamers to live their Rock 'n' Roll fantasies. These kids slouch down in their chairs (or couches at home) and punch the buttons like they were playing Halo. Expressionless faces. No head bobbing. Nothing swaying or thrusting with the music. No singing along. Its just so wrong. Its a souless exercise. So sad.

Photos from the dodgeball game to come. We have uniforms.

I didn't realize that my car trouble story was going to become an ongoing series, but here we are. (BTW, check out this car malfunction story, which has to be the coolest thing since my car told me to turn my automatic headlights on.)

Ever since I got the hood open to my car, I've been having to jump start it nearly everytime I needed to start it up. The only time I didn't have to jump it was when I'd been running it for a while. If it sat for more than an hour, I would get no more than half a grunt from the engine trying to turn over. This being the case, I always tried to park by my wife's car at home, next to a friend in the teacher's parking lot, and I wouldn't dismiss soccer practice until my car got started.

Yesterday I decided enough was enough. The way I figured it, there were three possibilities.
1. Bad alternator (v.v. bad. mucho $$$)
2. Bad battery (not a small amount of $$)
3. Me not driving the car for long enough periods of time to recharge the battery. (I get to go on a road trip.)

I ran these possibilities past a shop class student who was hanging around the weight room and then called my dad; they both concurred on my assessment. While driving back to IC from school I called my housewife and had her get me the number of the AutoZone* and O'Reilly's so I could call and ask if they had the diagnostic equipment I needed. I got the numbers (very quickly - good work, sweetie) and called the AutoZone.

"Hi, can you guys check a battery and alternator to see if they're OK?"
"Yeah, we do that" the dude answered.
"You're next to Hy-Vee, right?" I asked.
"No, we're next to Arby's in the Fin and Feather minimall."
"Oh," I said, "what's the one next to Hy-Vee?"
"That's Advance Auto Parts."
"Ah. Well, I'll go to you guys since I called you."
"It doesn't matter. They'll do the same thing for you."

In light of the AutoZone employee's spirit of business cooperation/indifference, I pulled into Advance Auto Parts, which was closer. I made the guy do a full test and his little computer box told me that my battery was on its last legs. I said, "Well, let's go inside and see what the new ones cost." (I should mention at this time that I was wearing shorts and a hoodie from our in-gym soccer practice that afternoon. In an April rain/sleet/snow storm.) They carried two batteries that fit my car. One cost $75, had 800 cold crank amps and additional top posts. The other cost $79, had 770 cca, and no top posts. I asked the guy "What are the top posts for?" He answered "I don't know, some people just want 'em for accessories and stuff." I though about asking him if I might be one of those people because I seriously had no idea. I asked him that if a guy wants more cold cranking amps, then why was that battery $5 cheaper. He didn't know. I figured I wanted those 30 more cold cranking amps, so now I have a 800 cca battery with top posts. Any ideas of potential top post uses should be left in my comment box.

"Do you want us to install that for you?" the Advance guy asked.
"Does it cost anything?"
"No."
I looked down at my bare legs and felt my sweat soaked t-shirt against my skin. So this guy with all the right wrenches, ratchets, and what nots could install that mother effer right now while I wait in the store, or I could drive home and change it in this slush storm with my two similarly sized pairs of pliers. "Yeah, that'd be great." I replied.

Then I went to BWW for some $.50 chicken legs to take home to my wife and child.

*I was browsing auto parts at AutoZone.com a while ago when I got too click happy and the computer froze up. Through some strange occurrence, the AutoZone logo is now the logo for my daughter's blog on my bookmarks toolbar.

*The teacher I replaced at this school was a German named Otto Sohn, pronounce the same as the store.

I think its awesome that The Office writers are thinking this way.

Mindy Kaling: I haven't seen ER in about 10 years, but there's something about ER that I like, which I kind of hope happens with The Office, which is the way that the characters are recycled out and new characters came on. At the beginning, no one cared about the Noah Wyle character, but by season eight, he was a huge star on the show. I feel like that's what we can do with The Office. As John Krasinski goes on to do Ocean's 15 or whatever he's going to star in, we can cycle in some interesting new young actors, and a new boss. My dream is that when Steve leaves the show, we could have Amy Poehler come on as the boss. I think Amy's flawless. I have this fantasy that we'll get this female boss, and at the beginning, she'll seem totally normal and what a relief, and then we'll find out that there's lots of different horrible, crazy kinds of bosses. Or Kathy Bates or something. How funny would that be?

link to full interview

Red and gold worked for the USSR

Iowa State is bringing back the yellow pants. Hallelujah. After years of Coach Mac first trying to turn ISU into Wisconsin (1), Mac had some better uniforms for the Seneca era (2), but then the unis devolved into a KC Chiefs knockoff (3). Mac came to Ames promising that his teams would never wear yellow pants and he kept his word. I'm not sure what he had against yellow pants; USC and LSU both won National Championships with their yellow pants on. Michigan does OK. Here's a hint (4) of what the new unis might look like.

I hope they decide against scrawling out IOWA STATE across the chest this time. They can also leave Jim Walden and his jacket at home. Check out ISU helmet history here. Check out how to submit your design for the new uniforms here. I haven't checked, but I'm sure the Hawkeye message boards are ROTFLMAO about a grand plan for all the True Hawkeye Fans to submit ridiculous CyClown uniforms that will really put the ISU Athletic Dept. in its place. I'll go check right now. Ok, I'm back, here is the discussion thread.

1. 2. 3. 4.

'B.C.' cartoonist Johnny Hart dies

Now I feel kind of bad. He was pretty old, though, so I think I can be assure that it wasn't my scathing attacks that did him in. RIP.

The first cut wasn't the deepest.

Yesterday I posted about my problems in getting the hood of my car open. I thought I had left it pretty clear that the normal methods of opening the hood weren't working and that something was broken/rusty/jammed/etc.

So, Jayne, a loyal friend, suggests that I use the unlatch the manual release (the one you flip once your hood has popped up the two or three inches). I know Jayne was just trying to be helpful by sharing her admittedly limited car knowledge with me, but come on, do you people think I've never been under the hood of my car before?

Anyhow, I was all set to lay into Jayne in this post with a bunch of "Do you think I'm so stupid that I can't unlatch my own hood" and "Stick to cooking and sewing" and "Doodle your wedding dress and centerpieces in your law books, Jayne, leave the hood popping to the men here" and all that. Like I said, I was all set to get all indignant with Jayne's suggestion.

And then I got a phone call this morning.

RING RING
It was my dad.
"Hello"
"Yeah, [son], your mom was reading your blog and says that you're having trouble getting your hood open."
"Yeah."
"Underneath the steering column there's a lever that you have to pull. That'll pop it up and then you'll be able to unlatch it."
I paused. Was my dad really telling me that, if I was having trouble getting under the hood, I should just pull the lever?
"The hood release lever? Yeah, the latch that the lever releases was rusty and didn't unlatch. I used a long screwdriver to stretch open a gap between the hood and the grill, which gave me enough room to use the extension straw on the WD-40 can to soak down the latch mechanism. I let it sit for a while then tried the 'hood release' lever. That popped it up a few inches and then I unlatched it. Then I jump started the car*."
"Oh, OK. Good then." Dad replied.

So, as you can see, I can't expect Jayne to have confidence in my basic car maintenance skills when MY OWN FATHER thinks I don't know where the hood release lever is. This is akin to if I called someone for help because my car wouldn't start and they said "You've got to put the key in the ignition and turn it." THAT PHONE CALL HAPPENED IN ALL SERIOUSNESS. How does one recover from that? What if my wife called her mother for advice in getting the baby to stop crying and her mom said "Have you tried holding her in your arms and gently rocking? Have you been feeding her?"

Cripes.

*aside story: I once jump started a car on a snowy street in a Swiss ski village. I was there with 5 guys who were all junior officers in the Danish army. Everything is a stick shift over there, so they don't know much about jump starting, they just push start. I was letting them do it because neither of the cars were mine; but after 5 minutes of watching the four of them look at the alligator clamps and the car battery and then back to the clamps, I got out and asked if they needed help. They admitted they had no idea what they were doing and asked if I had ever done this. I drove a '92 Ford Tempo for four years (none of the years close to 1992), so the answer was, of course, yes. I hooked it up and they started the car. It feels pretty awesome when a bunch of college students trained in modern warfare ask you for help and you get to be all "Let Uncle Sam step in here and show you all how its done. VROOOM Yep, there's another victory for the Red, White, and Blue."

It's the Rolls-Royce of automobiles.

Anybody know anything about cars? Not real technical stuff, more like how to get under the GD hood? No, stop laughing, I'm not that big of an idiot. The hood won't release when I pull the lever under the dash. You can hear it clicking up where it's supposed to be releasing (under the hood ornament), and the springs that push up are still springy, but it just won't release. I'm going to go after the hood release mechanism hard with a can of WD-40 this afternoon.

Here's a pic of the hood release. I can replace it for $12.95+s&h, but I'd need to get to it first.

It could also be that the cable that runs from the release lever to the release mechanism has too much slack, but the cable is welded to a pin on the lever, making it tough to take up the slack. All of the online car forums and manuals suggest looking at a same model car with the hood open. Anyone have a 1988 Cadillac Seville (preferably gray) that I can study before resorting to busting into the grill of mine?

FYI, I need to get under the hood so that I can jump start it. I left the lights on on Friday. I swear I'm not an idiot; I did really well on my ACTs. I consistantly score high on online IQ tests. I own many books.

Winning Eleven

Here is the press release I sent to all the local papers hyping our upcoming girls' soccer season. Names have been changed to protect the innocent. Positions are as follows: CB: center back, LB: left back, RB: right back, LW: left wing, RW: right wing, MF: midfielder, LF: left forward, RF: right forward, GK: goalkeeper. (I know that a lot of other names exist for these same positions, I've found these are the ones that leave things clearest for my players.)

My name is Fisher-Price Man and I am the head coach of the [local high school] girls' soccer team. This is the third year of our soccer program and my third year as head coach. Our varsity team went winless our first two seasons but showed great improvement from the first to the second. In our first season the game was stopped at the 10-goal mercy rule in a majority of games and in our second season we were competitive in almost every game and the JV team posted a .500 record.

Our strength this year should be our experience. This year we return many players who have played with the team since its inception. The varsity will look for leadership from its returning starters; CB (jr.) and CB (sr.) on defense, MF (sr.) and MF (so.) in the midfield, and LF (so.) and RF (sr.) at the forward position. RW (sr.), RW/LW (so.), and LW (so.) will (wo)man the right and left flanks, and LB (so.), RB (so.), RB/LB (so.) will round out the defense. Newcomers RB/LB (so.) and RB/LB (fr.) will also fight for varsity minutes. In goal, we return GK (so.) and GK (so.), both of whom saw time in goal last year. GK (fr.) will also challenge for the keeper position.

This year I really want the girls to work on in-game execution. We go over so many things in practice, what to do in every situation; sometimes its tough to keep all that in mind in the heat of the game.

CB returns as a 1st team [conference] selection from the 2006 season. LW was selected for the 2nd team, and CB and MF received Honorable Mention in the [conference].

This year we are blessed with numbers, so it will be a tough job for me to get playing time for everyone who deserves it, especially on JV. By last count we have 38 girls out for soccer. We've had some upper-classmen come out for soccer who don't have a lot of experience but have shown great work ethic and hustle in practice. One or two of them may see time with the varsity before the season is over. Our freshmen have a great attitude and have shown that they want to put in the practice hours necessary for future success.

Our first match is Wed, April 4 at [River Town Catholic School] at 5:00 and we continue the following Wednesday at home against Kelso's alma mater.

The nerve.

So today some kids thought they knew more euphemisms for "mullet" than me. They were quickly proven more wrong than ranch dressing on pancakes. More wrong than black jeans. More wrong than worrying about the base runner when there are two outs. More wrong than 2+2=5. Very wrong.

I like to conserve paper, so when I'm writing a test I'll shrink the margins and text (10point Arial Narrow) to get the most out of a page. It's a bit small and crowded but I like to think I saved a tree. I ran off my midterm on the copier today and someone had left a ream of dayglo green in the main paper tray. The result had to be the most headache inducing, 100 question multiple choice test EVER. I guaranteed this to my Spanish IV class before the test. To make it up, I gave them 5 minutes to write whatever they wanted on the board to use during the test. Most used the time to write down grammatical notes. Some tried in vain to write down entire lists of vocabulary. I was disappointed no one chose the dignified defiant option of writing a list of cuss words but, then again, we live in a different age from when I was young.

It's been such a long time.

Brad Delp, the lead singer of the 1970s and '80s rock band Boston was found dead at his home in southern New Hampshire on Friday, local police said.

Here's Brad in action:


Here's Scrubs in action:


Here's me in action (not really):


A while ago I lamented that I would never be as cool as Stevie Wonder playing Superstition on Sesame Street. I echo those sentiments today in honor of Brad Delp, who hit 11 on the awesome scale every time Boston rocked KGGO.

And these are their album covers. Go home, The Darkness, Boston's the band to take us to the planet Rocktron VII and then fight a space battle in a guitar ship for the freedom of all Rockers.

Well, just a'look at that girl with the lights comin' up in her eyes.

I know this belongs on another blog, but here's a little bit of heartwarming.



The video is of stuff from November and December. She's so small; I'd wager she's five to six times that size now. I know I'm a little behind lately. I just saw Heat. Heat? That came out six years ago. But I want to talk about it now!

pre-2004 Technology

Here is long lost video from April 8, 2004.





There's no sound, but if you can read lips you knew that my first wife and I were there exchanging our legal wedding vows at some law offices in Iowa City that were blown down about a year ago when the twister blew through town.

So the moral of the story is, if you happen to be planning a wedding, get a good videographer who has a camera that can record more than 90 sec of video to do the ceremony. Try to get one that does sound, too. When it's for posterity, it shouldn't look like it was someone's cell phone.

Congratulations.

Sportsmanship / Marksmanship

My favorite futbol team is Sevilla FC. Sevilla is currently in the middle of its most successful era in team history; they are the current holders of the UEFA Cup (which Sevilla is successfully defending this year), the Super Cup (Supercopa), and they are currently in first place in the Spanish League after beating FC Barcelona last weekend.

Apart from playing in their national league and the UEFA tournament (a tournament of European teams played out over a season), Sevilla also plays in the Copa del Rey, another tournament that plays out over the course of a season. This would be like if the Iowa football team played their regular Big 10 schedule (Spanish League), plus an elimination tournament of teams from all over the country and all divisions (Copa del Rey), plus a special tournament made up of last season's third and fourth place teams from each conference (UEFA Cup), and if you win that tournament, you play a game against the tournament champs of last season's first and second place teams (Champions League) for the Super Cup. Anyway, its complicated and quite different from American sports. (Imagine if last year's worst Major League teams had to play AAA baseball this year and the best minor league team got a shot in the majors.*)

In the Copa del Rey, the King's Cup, Sevilla matched up in the Sweet Sixteen (down from hundreds of teams) with hated crosstown rival Betis (Real Betis Balompie). A good Spanish football writer, Phil Ball, talks about the game, the rivalry, and the history in his latest column. I recommend the article highly, but first watch this clip from the match.



That's right, coach got knocked out by a thrown bottle. Now go read that article, seriously, it's good.

*Usually, if a sentence starts with "Imagine" and is followed by something that would appear absurd to the reader, the writer would end that sentence with an exclamation point (i.e "Imagine if hamburgers ate people!", but I just haven't been comfortable with exclamation points lately.

Not at all a fitting tribute to Barry Stevens.

Former Iowa State roundballer Barry Stevens died this week at 43 after a workout with his son. Sincere condolences go to his family. If you missed Stevens' passing, its probably because you were caught up in the death of former Boston Celtic hoopster Dennis Johnson at 52.

Now, when a former gridiron star dies young, we pshaw it off, citing the multiple concussions and enormous girth required to play professional pigskin. "All that extra weight and all those hits to the head, that's what got him," we say.

When a baseball player goes, we blame it on the steroids.

When a golfer goes, we say "Well, he was never really an athlete, anyway."

When a horse goes, we make the glue factory jokes, unless it's Barbaro, then we bury him in Arlington.

When a soccer player goes, its much like a tree falling in that forest.

But when a twine-tickler passes on in his 40s or 50s, we have to stop and think. There are really two ways we can take it:

The Wake-up Call
"Wow. In his prime, that guy could've jumped over me and could run around the hardwood for hours a day. What hope does that leave for a guy like me? I really need to get in shape if I want to see 60."

or,
The White Flag
"Wow. In his prime, that guy could've jumped over me and could run around the hardwood for hours a day. What hope does that leave for a guy like me? Pass me that bag of Bugles, I have to get the Funyun taste out of my mouth."

Barry was a part of Hilton Magic just before I started paying attention to Cyclone b-ball. He was a guy in pictures and game clips they showed when Jeff Grayer was approaching and passing his all-time points record. I'll save the eulogies for those who know.

The weird thing about his passing is that I didn't hear about it until today, Friday afternoon. I heard it on my drive home from work, from that idiot The Shark on 100.7. The Shark was reporting it like he had just ripped it off the wire. "Interesting," I thought. On a phone call home to my baby's grandma I mentioned the news and my mom said "Oh, yeah, I heard that." This seemed strange, as my mom usually isn't usually on top of sports and celebrity news. It wouldn't be weird for her to comment tomorrow "Did you see that the actress from Ghost is going out with that young guy from that show about the 70s?" (To be fair, my dad can be just as bad. There was a NFL game on TV between the Bears and the Cardinals. Dad asked if they were playing in Chicago or St. Louis.) (To be fair, my parents are productive, successful adults who seem to be content to live their daily lives without worrying about JT and Cameron Diaz, or the Van Halen reunion.)

So, Mom said that, yes, she had heard that. They had a moment of silence at the ISU game on Wednesday, the day it happened. She exalted in knowing something before me while I wondered if I had been in a cave for three days. I hadn't, obviously, as evidenced by my witty and insightful posts keeping you all up to date on pop culture happenings in the past days.

I blame the eastern Iowa press. And Redheaded Stranger's hiatus. I'm just lost lately. Thank God things will be getting back to normal.

I leave you with a photo of the author at his peak of physical fitness, 8th grade basketball.

After writing this I wonder as to its propriety.

This is what worried me today:

So when a kid is in fifth or sixth grade and he watches an animated drawing of a young boy and girl get larger, develop broad shoulders and hips, and to grow hair "down there;" how does that boy reconcile that image with the one presented in the Playboys and on the internet? If any health classes' first puberty lecture aims to reassure the young 'uns about what's happening down in their underpants, how do they feel when all the centerfolds have as much hair below the belt as Barbie does. Doesn't this have to affect the young girls, too? (At least the ones that are sneakin' looks at the Playboys.) First they have to deal with the skinny models with basketballs for chests, then they look downward and see that Kerry Lynn or whoever never grew the pubes that currently make them so self-conscious in the locker room. Am I crazy, or does this have to mess with these kids' heads?

Or does this not even apply anymore? We're six years into George Bush's America. Have the creationists taken puberty out of the textbooks, too? They got safe-sex ed out of schools, now they're trying to eliminate all references to genitalia and reproduction.

Idol is on, so I'll leave you all with the links. I'm rooting for Melinda Doolittle on the women's side, and the beat-boxer on the guy's side. Melinda Doolittle is a friend in my Facebook, and you can look that up.

Two clowns were killed in Colombia. This was the same country that shot the soccer player, right?

I just saw this commercial on Idol. This is what former US Congressman Doug Ose meant when he wrote the Clean Airways Act [H.R. 3687].

Former Hawkeye Jonathan Babineaux allegedly killed his gf's dog. Dallas Clark calls him and thanks Jon-Jon for taking over as "Most Embarrassing Hawkeye of the Week."

Idi Amin, Jr., is defending his pops. I'll bet Hitler wishes he had a son to do the same.

Britney Spears, has left rehab, again. Those who keep up with the celebrity gossip will know that there's not much left for her to shave.

Circular.

C'mon, Ref, call it both ways on them more.

Local boy Dallas Clark was back in central Iowa recently. He stopped by the girls' district basketball game featuring his high school. Dallas got a little excited and was asked to leave.

I post this because it's funny, and also because of my numerous personal connections to one of the best tight ends in the NFL*. I won't regale you all with my Dallas Clark stories right now, as I'm afraid that they have already passed from "interesting high school moments" to "repeated Glory Days reminiscing" and are in danger of becoming the dreaded "Al Bundy's four touchdowns in a single game" (Bud: You know, Dad, some say your knee was dow-" Al: "MY KNEE WAS NOT DOWN!").

Instead I leave you with this photo of myself in high school BOXING OUT TWO GUYS AT A TIME. We weren't the state champion B-F Bluejays, but this photo was taken at one of the three games we won that year.

No, wait, the photo's from the Ventura game, so, no, we didn't win that one. Those uniforms were the first the school ever bought that may have been considered "baggy." All the shorts before those could not be considered to have "legs." The outseam measured about 8 in. and the inseam was the width of the hem. The makers of the uniforms that the uniforms depicted replaced tried to go along with the baggy uniform trend, so they used more material, but kept the same length and cinched up the bottom of the leg with the same circumference of trim material as before, creating a poofy, diaper-like effect. My high school needs a UniWatch.

*That's what she said.

Workin' Late

What I don't like today: Computer applications that ask me if I'm sure I'd like to quit when I specifically select the option to quit.

What's worse: When said application does not give me the option to disable this oh-so-convenient feature.

And then: That program uses Adobe Reader to view files, which always runs so freakin' slow on my work computer.

And in the end I spend the majority of my day trying to figure out how I feel about this t-shirt.

Super Bowl Party Update

Polish Sausage + Sauerkraut = Crazy Delicious
Two screens: one is 27 in., the other 10 ft (projected).
Entire Grilled Salmon
30 pack of PBR
6 LaBatts
About 20 cans of semi-flat LaCross (froze outside, lost a little pressure, still drinkable)
5 pack of O'Doul's Amber (for fans who are nursing ONLY)
Mama Maria's Artichoke Dip

AND

By my count, this will be the first Super Bowl seen by 6 people in attendance.

SPECIAL BONUS!
Get your photo taken with everyone's favorite 4 1/2 mo. old.

Also, I've decided I will be rooting on the Bears. I've struggle with this one, as I don't really like either team. So here how I fall: I hope the former Hawkeyes with Indianapolis do really well but that the loss was due to outstanding play by Chicago. MVP = Mushin Muhammed.

Posting for posting's sake

We were watching a music video in Spanish class today. In an effort to help the students draw connections and connect to culture, I mentioned that the singer (Carlos Baute) had also served as a guest judge on the Spanish version of "Dancing with the Stars." One student dryly remarked "Oh. I thought he looked familiar."

That made me laugh.

I enjoyed this guy's thoughts on the recent terrorist attack in Boston.

Recap: 31 January 2007

Here's what I learned about today: hoser

Pet peeve of the day: When someone puts colored paper into the general paper tray in the copier in order to make colored copies, then doesn't take out the leftovers, so the next person to make copies gets half their copies in white and half in robin's egg blue.



Regret of the day: Didn't put enough grounds into the coffee pot this morn'. My coffee was so week I thought I was at a Lutheran Fellowship Breakfast. I was a church breakfast once where an old lady (Leona) went half and half with a whole pitcher of Hy-vee Orange Drink and water because "it was just too strong" right out of the jug. I put half a shake of pepper on my scrambled eggs and someone said to me "Oooh! You must like things SPICY!"



Super Bowl Party of the Week: My house. Two guys from school bought fundraising French Silk pies from the track team for the sole purpose of bringing them to the party, and I've also been assured a 12 of Hamm's and chicken enchiladas.

Reading the news so you don't have to.

CNN.com describes New Line Cinema and Peter Jackson as having a "war of words" over profits that will probably keep Jackson from directing The Hobbit. Here are New Line's words:

"I don't care about Peter Jackson anymore," Shaye said. "He wants to have another $100 million or $50 million, whatever he's suing us for. He doesn't want to sit down and talk about it. He thinks that we owe him something after we've paid him over a quarter of a billion dollars. ... Cheers, Peter."

Here are Peter Jackson's words:

"Fundamentally, our legal action is about holding New Line to its contractual obligations and promises," Jackson said. "It is regrettable that Bob has chosen to make it personal. I have always had the highest respect and affection for Bob and other senior management at New Line and continue to do so."

Now, after reading that, who's side are you on? Who do you think is the gentleman of the pair? I'm pretty sure all of the actors from Lord of the Rings who whould appear in The Hobbit have said that they'd only work with Jackson, so that means that we'll get Patrick Stewart or Sean Connery as Gandalf. Or Rutger Hower. I shudder.

Oh, and David Beckham will be playing soccer in the US soon. He will get 50 million a year for 5 years. He used to be maybe one of the better players on the planet. Many people will tune in out of curiosity, but they will soon be disappointed when they see that, as a midfielder, the best the Becks can do will be to make nice passes. They will be turned off by this percieved lack of production, further alienating them from soccer. Oh, and this will probably bankrupt the league. But it will all be great fun.

While I kiss this guy...

Anyone responding with a different humorous misheard lyric will be banned from this blog. I swear to Cheese and Rice. No "Clowns in my coffee" or "Bathroom on the right." I hate those. NO ONE ACTUALLY THOUGHT THAT FOGERTY WAS SAYING "BATHROOM ON THE RIGHT!"

I've been trying to figure out a lyric from "No Rain" for nigh on 13 years now. For a long time I thought it was "You know I'd like to keep my teenage androgeny" because that sounded really cool and dark and it kept with the grunge trend. I thought that for quite a long time. Maybe ten years. Then, a couple years ago, I decided that wasn't the lyric and I put myself to trying to figure out what it really was. I couldn't do it. Couldn't get away from "teenage 'drogenaaay."

Then I heard "No Rain" on the radio this morning. I heard IT. The Lyric. "You know I'd like to keep my jeans dry today..." It made sense. No rain. Dry jeans. When I got to work I checked online to see if I was finally right.

I was not. I now know the correct lyric.

Do you?

I assume you do and I'm just an idiot, but post your answers in the comments. No cheating.

I never had an NES. My cousins would let me play theirs and then laugh when I fell into the pits on level one of Super Mario Bros.

I dare you not to lose the rest of your afternoon here.

Meaty is their adopted bulldog.

Wouldn't you know it? One day I'm bad-mouthing my students, the next day they show me up by being a pretty good bunch of kids.

In Spanish for Spanish Speakers II we have this one chapter (Mexico Between Independence and Revolution) to get done before break. It's pretty straightforward information and neither the kids nor I felt like listening to me lecture about this for a couple of days. So, I says to the kids, I say "How 'bout you guys read the chapter and then you get to do the project of your choice to show me that you've learned something." Now, sometimes when you do this, they go blank. They need to be told what to do. I have to say "You can do an essay, a presentation, a poster, a diorama" then I have to assign projects to half the kids because they just say "I don't know/care."

But not this time. I says to the kids, I says "You can do any sort of project you want," and a dozen or so hands shot up. "Can I do a PowerPoint?" "Can I make a poster?" "Can I put a timeline on my poster?" "I'll make a booklet!" "I'll do an essay!" (What!?) So, you see, some days they surprise you. Today a kid asked me enthusiastically "Should I do a bibliography with mine?"

We continue to study the conditional tense in Spanish. The kids had fun with "What book/cd/dvd WOULD you bring to a desert island?" (and, yes, the island does have an entertainment center). The "In what TV show would you like to live?" question got the best responses. Four girls wanted to live in Grey's Anatomy (one to date Burke), two in Will and Grace, and one each for House, Ugly Betty, That's So Raven, 7th Heaven (what? why?), Happy Days, The Amazing Race, Degrassi, Laguna Beach, CSI (she would work with Nick) and Days of our Lives. They guys went for Family Guy (4), The Wire, South Park, Sesame Street, Rob and Big (he would be Meaty), Dora the Explorer, and Diff'rent Strokes (he would be Willis).

In this same exercise, a girl (not the same one as the other day) answered "God, I don't know!" when I asked her "Where would you buy your new clothes?" So, somethings don't change.

Did you stick a penny in there?

When I write the sitcom of my job, I know I already have my "Janitor" character, a la Scrubs. He is the head of the Bus Barn. His malevolence is not humorous, like Janitor's, but I know I can turn it into some laughs. In fact, I'd bet the inspiration for Janitor's character was an A-1 Prick just like this guy.

Here's an actual email from the guy sent to our AD and forwarded (with apologies) to us coaches. No editions have been made (except my brackets and italics). This is how he talks. To everyone. If he's talking to you before you take a vehicle out, he does it as if you already screwed up all the things he's advising you about. If you don't screw up any of his instructions, he marvels at your blind luck. He's pretty sure the world is full of idiots trying to make his job harder. (Notice the Capitalization)

[Mr. AD] ----can you tell your coaches----This cold weather---If there going to stop at Mcdonalds--etc---No pop on the bus drink and eat inside---Last last I had to Wash Spilled Pop out of a back of a bus---and 13 below this morning frozen water and pop just don't cut it---If they stop they take the time till everyone finishes inside at least till warms up

Rare school rant.

There are a lot of dark moments when you teach high school, moments when you weep for the future. These dark moments lighten up sometimes when you think back to your own youth and think about some of the dumba** sh** that came out of your own mouth. The adults who overheard probably wept then, too.

But then there are moments that you can't write off so easily. Like when you listen to kids in the hallway use the f-word twenty different times in a paragraph (What's a paragraph?) and you ask them to watch their language, and they reply "What'd I say?" Swearing - in school, on the street, at home, in church, in prayer - is so normal to them that they don't even realize what they're doing. And then their parents come to conferences and comment "Yeah, someone needs to get that kid's head on straight." Yes. SOMEONE should. Its so bad that the first day of all my classes we write all the swear words on the board. The kids get a big kick out of it, but without it, a lot of kids think that there are only one or two bad words. You wouldn't believe the shocked looks I get when I tell them that b***h, d**n, h*ll, and a** are inappropriate for normal classroom conversation.

And then there are the sadder cases. Kids without a language. They speak Spanish at home, but never learned to read or write it. English was a second language and they never had a parent to correct basic grammar rules if they used a double negative or say "He don't..." or "I don't got no..." Then their poor high school teacher has to decide whether to teach Shakespeare and The Scarlett Letter or basic present tense conjugations to 15 and 16-year olds.

So today was somewhat of a frustrating day, hence the rant displayed here for you all. Two kids in Spanish III didn't know the verbs "to want" and "to say/to tell" and what's worse, looked at me like "How am I supposed to know this kind of stuff?" It's like their parents told them "Learn half the colors and a few barnyard animals and you'll be all right." Later in Spanish IV, we were working with the conditional tense (What WOULD you do if....? I WOULD...) I asked a student (in Spanish) what she would buy if she won the loteria. She responds "ummm, clothes." I remind her "en espanol, por favor" She gets exasperated and responds "ropa" To try and encourage more conversation, I ask her "what kind of ropa?" Exasperated again, she responds with "pantalones, camisa, zapatos" as if to name three articles of clothing was the most onerous chore of her day. I ask "What stores would you buy from?" "God, I don't know." is her reply. Now, I know she's understood all I've asked her, it's just too hard for her to imagine herself in this hypothetical situation. She honestly sat there trying to think of a story she might buy from with an "I can't believe he expects me to know this" look on her face.

But this rant has a happy ending. In Spanish III, as these students tried to think of these first-week-of-Spanish I- verbs, I scanned the rest of the class. Most of them had on a "Cheese and rice, how can he not know this?" look. It feels good when the class empathizes with the teacher and not the below-par student. In the case of the put-upon Spanish IV student, eventually another student sighed out loud "God, just name two stores. It's not that hard!" In the next class a few students shouted at a chronically disruptive student to "Sit down and shut up" before I could say the same thing (in a way approved by education experts and Oprah.)

And then in the last class, one of my smartest students was asking what the Virreinato was in Mexico. I told him that it was when a virrey from Spain was in charge, the virrey was like the representative of the King in Mexico. He responded "Oh, like a viceroy," as if to say "Mr. FPM, why didn't you just say Viceroy. Duh, I'm not a third-grader."

Here's a fun link. This band rocks hard.

Is it really the same cow?

A friend asked me recently which brand of ice cream I prefer. That got me to thinking. The ice cream I had been eating was Blue Bunny. Before that, it was a box of Fareway's store brand. I've been known to buy Hy-vee brand ice cream. Usually I go with whichever brand has the best sale on. Sure, there are some brands that are better than others, but none that, for me, justify a price difference of a dollar or more per quart. I'm sure that there are those who do feel that the extra cost justifies the price but for me, I just don't see enough difference to go by anything other than price.

Milk follows this same rule. As does yogurt (let's go ahead and say all dairy). Jelly and jam do follow the rule, though peanut butter does not. Low end peanut butter is unacceptable, I need a name brand. Cooking oil is all the same. Regular brewer ground coffee varies greatly from the Hy-vee brand to your middle-class brands like Folgers and Maxwell House. If someone says they like Hy-vee's brand, it can not be said that they like coffee. Between Folgers and Starbucks (or whatever) I don't feel there's enough increase in quality to justify tripleing the price. Cheetos and cheeto-like products are all the same for me. As are pretzels and plain potato chips. All the same, the extra price is for the nicer sack. Don't skimp on salsa, though. You will be sorry.

But really, I started this post to get your opinion. I would like to know your opinions on your food products. Do you have to have Oreos or can you slum it with the creme-stuffed chocolate cookie imitations? Do you only buy one brand of canned vegetables? Is Heinz the only ketchup producer in your book? Corn King hot dogs (you know who you are) or Luis Rich Franks? Where do you skimp and where do you splurge?

Post your replies below, and let's try to respect everyone's tastes and spending habit. (Unless, of course, you believe that store brand chocolate syrup could even step on the field with Hershey's Syrup, then I will ridicule you back to the stone age.)

Jeane Kirkpatrick has died.

It was the late 1980 when we first started getting the Des Moines Register delivered daily to our house. Before that we only recieved the two local papers that informed us of the local high school sports, city council meetings, and gave us five or six different comic strips. (Garfield, Peanuts, B.C., Wizard of ID, either Rex Morgan or Judge Parker, something else). The Register brought to my house an entire page of comics every day. Bloom County immediately became my favorite. As I was just getting into politics at that time, I loved that the country animals (and penguin) ran for office in the same race with Bush and Dukakis (and they didn't whine about their own baby boomer existence and carp about Republicans like the losers in Doonesbury).

Soon I decided that I needed to read Bloom County from Day 1, that is since the early 1980s. I went to the local Waldenbooks to find a collection, bought one, and eventually ended up with them all. I devoured these comic strips even though I had no idea who Caspar Weinberger, Yuri Andropov, and Geraldine Ferraro were, but I still laughed as if I did.

Once there was a plot line that had Bill the Cat on a wild coke-fueled weekend with Jeane Kirkpatric. I had no idea what this meant, but, like with the aforementioned names, I researched and asked questions until I got the joke.

So, ole' Jeane left us this week. I'm sure Bill will shed a tear for his former lover (Yes, I know he used her to sell secrets to the Communists, but there were feelings there. There were feelings there.)

Awesomeness in a different sort of way.

Read For Better or For Worse a month at a time!

This is really cool. I can finally figure out what's going on with Michael and Lizardbreath and April and John and Ellie and Jeffy and Marvin and Wiley and Marmaduke. Oh, drat, I'm so confused.

Travels: Denmark

This is December of 2001. I was studying abroad in Spain and my friend Christian*, a foreign exchange student at my high school during my senior year, invited me up to Danmark (that's how they say it) to spend Jul with his family. I flew into Kobenhavn a couple of days before Jul. Kobenhavn is an extremely beautiful and extremely expensive city. I guess that's what you get for being a very cosmopolitan northern European capital that has endured many years of Social Democratic rule. Since Kobenhavn is on Sjaelland Island, it actually doesn't get that cold or get a lot of snow. I was there for three days and it snowed all three days. So, imagine the cleanliness of a Scandinavian city filled with tall, beautiful, blonde Danes (both male and fe-male), all wearing long woolen winter coats and nice shoes (not a Starter jacket in sight, no sweatpants), sporting their Jultide smiles as they go Jul shopping and stop for hot glogg in a small cafe with wooden stools and sconce lighting. Just gorgeous. Here we are with The Little Mermaid. (Click the link to see it at low tide.) Like any famous statue or a Homer ordering a giant Australian beer, I was disappointed by its size.


My Danish friend Christian was also serving in the Danish Army Reserve. We visited his base on Christmas Eve. The only person there was his buddy, who got stuck guarding the whole base. He did this from the main office while playing Tony Hawk on the PS2. Then we got in a Jeep and started driving around this deserted base in this snowstorm. I'd say the Jeep was on the road around 70% of the time. I hope the snow melted off before the blustery general got back to base to see where we slid off the road 8 times practicing our winter combat driving manouevres. Then we got to check out the Bradley Tanks that Reagan had given the Danes. We started it up and it sounded like a big diesel tractor, which of course, it is, but with guns. I asked if we could take it out for a spinny spin. They said "no" because there was only one certified tank guy there, and the rules said we needed two. I asked them if that same rule book said anything about doing donuts in the Jeeps when there were no generals around. They replied "no."


*Christian is the only person I know to have personally coined a euphamism for the mullet. Sure, lots of people have long lists memorized (Kentucky Waterfall, Missouri Compromise, Mudflap, Neckwarmer, etc) but on a visit to this guy's house we were talking about the mullet. Christian, not being native to this fertile mullet territory, asked what a mullet was. The concept was explained and without skipping a beat he replied "Oh, you mean Czech 2nd-division hair." referring to the preferred haircut of Bohemian minor league soccer players. Thus he came to be the only person I know to have added his own epithet to the list.

Party like it's 2002.

In an effort not to break the one-month barrier that is the Mendoza Line of blogging, I believe I shall begin a series of posts documenting my travels. I will endeavour to use pictures of myself and my friends in foreign spots as opposed to random shots of cathedrals and bridges, as those are readily available from other sources if you have internet access (and I'm willing to bet you do).

This first series will contain the long awaited "horse-eating" picture. Don't tell Willie.

But let's just start out with Frank and myself on the train. This photo later became the cover of a mix CD Frank gave me as a graduation present (to date the greatest mix CD I've ever received; simply spectacular).


Here's Frank checking the vintage of some wine, errrrr Hungarian beer. If I remember correctly, this was on a Sunday and all the ATMs were locked up in stores and banks, so we had to buy dinner using what amounted to US$6. I believe supper consisted of F and I splitting a pasta and creme side dish that you boil up in a pot and, of course, a giant Hungarian beer for each of us). Cheers!


Here it is. Man eats horse, washes it down with Slovene beer.


Here's Frank contemplating the Adriatic in Croatia.

The next bunch is a series of pics from a Czech vineyard. Good times. That thing's called a "wine robber," I think.

SHOUT OUTS

H-Dog had a recent birthday. I think it was yesterday. AFAIK she's blogless, and I'm not sure if she even reads this. H-Dog, if you're out there, hollaback.

This guy's GF has a birthday today. I didn't get anything for you, but here's hopin' this guy knows how to make a girl feel extra special. Maybe even twice.

And on the 3rd, little baby Cecilia's tía, my cuñada, turned 29. Felicidades, tita.

From paragraph 8: "Humans are not smart to eat horses."

Yesterday evening I ran into my local public library to drop off some materials that I had checked out. As I walked in, I saw that Johnson Co. had already set up it's early voting station. Now, I'm not an early voting fanatic, but I thought "Hey, I'm here and that'll be one less thing I've got to do next Tuesday." So I voted. I also had to sign a piece of paper swearing up and down that I'd only vote once. So for those of you keeping track, the only thing keeping the communists and the pirates from voting early and often is the HONOR SYSTEM.

Anyhow, I felt good about the whole affair until I started reading the news today and realized that I had voted without first reading Willie Nelson's election season editorial.

Just to leave things clear for you all: The only reason I don't vote party lines is because Willie Nelson doesn't have a party.

In my country there is problem...

Do you think that Yakov Smirnoff looks at Borat and thinks "Yes! That's what I should have done. I didn't take it far enough! (What a country!)"?

No, me neither. 'Excited for the movie, though.

Aguas de Marco

Really into this song lately.



Check out Sealab's Version here.

Why Guitar Hero III should be for an entire R&B Band.

It hurts so much that I will never, ever be half this cool.



(Here's an extra treat from the episode of Sesame Street.)

Probably of interest to only me.

When you're in middle or high school and your favorite band is The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, The Who, The Doors, The Stones, etc., there are a lot of band biographies out there for a kid to read. (This is less true if your favorite band is The Killers. Not a lot of tomes written about The Killers yet.) I think it was the duty of every kid obsessed with classic rock and roll to read at least one "No one gets out of her alive"-type book about their favorite band so they could later comment at crucial points of a song "THIS IS ABOUT HIS BROTHER THAT DIED." or "ROGER WATTERS WROTE THIS WHILE THEY WERE ON TOUR IN BUDAPEST. DAVID GILMOUR HATED IT." (You have to shout it like that to understand the obnoxiousness of a high schooler commenting on their favorite 70s supergroups.)

I liked The Doors, but I didn't actually read No One Gets Out of Here Alive, and I never read any Pink Floyd books because my BFF in HS was already the resident scholar, and I didn't want to horn in on his territory. I read the big Beatles biography from our HS library for a research paper once. While reading it I found it odd that it was failing to mention some important details so I used my library skills to find the copyright date. Apparently my HS library thought that nothing new happened to The Beatles after 1968, so why get a newer book?

My absolutely favorite band ever when I was in high school was Queen. (One would have thought that in the homophobic halls of a small town high school a kid who wasn't really dripping with heterosexuality would have chosen a different band to evangelize but he didn't and we all have to live with our decisions, don't we?) Where was I? Oh yes, I liked Queen. The Wayne's World movie turned me on to them and the first 10 CDs I ever bought were Queen. I even bought a few actual Queen cassettes before I decided that I should march bravely into the 90s and blow my savings and buy a boombox with a CD player. It was 1994, after all. One day, I went to Waldenbooks at the North Grand Mall one day and BAM! there it was. The official authorized Queen autobiography. You knew it was official because it had the same cover as the Queen's Greatest Hits and Classic Queen albums that were so popular with the rest of the kids (posers!, I called them, buy the real albums!) From this book I learned all manner of Queen info that I could spout off that would be sure to impress all the cool kids.

Why are we talking about all this? Well, some of you may have been surprised by this news, but you can be assured that I was well aware.

Litmus test

Is this the worst Iowa t-shirt ever, or the worst Iowa State t-shirt ever?

Of course the worst t-shirt ever may be the one where the opposing team's mascot is depicted performing a fellatious act upon the favorite team's mascot, thus indicating the submission of the other team, but all I see is Herky the Hawk really enjoying having Cy's* head buried in his own black and gold crotch feathers. Note to all you Rhodes Scholars out there who wear that shirt to Kinnick Stadium: There are a lot of kids at those games. Try to wear a shirt where the meaning of the dirty joke is a bit more hidden. Oh, who am I kidding? These fellers probably think "Muck Fichigan" t-shirts are too intellectual.

*(substitute Goldy Gopher's, Bucky Buckeye's, Chief Illiniwek's, Purdue Pete's, etc.)

ESPN.COM story

Cultures are teammates at Iowa high school

This story was written by Wayne Drehs. Wayne wrote for the Daily Iowan and graduated from the U of I a few years back. I met Wayne through a high school acquaintance who also wrote sports for the DI, and we ended up all going out to The Union one night. That's my story.

Oh, and the guy with initials JY doesn't exist. There is a J and another kid who looks like him with last name Y. Both kids are in my class and I will enjoy the heck out of calling them both the wrong name for the rest of the year.

You've done it again, B.C. creator Johnny Hart.

Titters.

While watching The March of the Penguins in my Spanish for Spanish Speakers class, the Mexican Morgan Freeman states "Los machos se juntan en grupos para mantener los huevos calientes."

That one got a good laugh.

Open Letter to Sean Hannity

So the other day I flipped on the radio to get your (Sean Hannity's) take on the whole Mark Foley ordeal. Your big point was the hypocracy of the Democrats in chastising Foley when only a few short years before they had defended Bill Clinton's indiscretions as "a personal matter." You were serious. You were drawing connections between Bill Clinton's b***j*** from an of-age intern and a Congressman Foley's attempts to bed the underage page. Conveniently, you forgot all about the whole "underage" thing. You were much more intent upon criticising the Dems for their 'hypocritical' outrage. In fact, you made so little mention of the page's minority that I imagine most of your loyal listeners are unaware that slightly important distinction. (FYI, Sean, just as idiot liberals rely on The Daily Show for all their news, so does the idiot right rely on you.) If its hypocritical for the Dems to claim that the little-boy stalking was "wrong," then was it hypocritical of you then, Sean, to refer to the pedophilia as "a personal matter?" Or do you claim that turnabout is fair play (when you do it)?

Isn't it just extremely sad that our political well is so poisoned that the Democrats and Republicans can't unite against ATTEMPTED STATUTORY RAPE. My god, Sean, just cut bait and and accept that maybe just this once the Democrats aren't completely out in liberal left field and they're right at being upset about this.

Oh, and I've registered online for the free car giveaway. I chose the SAAB convertible, thus proving I am not as great an American as you. I'm sure you, Sean, and Lincoln himself would've chosen that Pontiac or the Saturn coupe.

(Aside to loyal readers: If you happen to hear my name on the radio this Thursday afternoon on dear Sean's show, give me a ring, so I can call in and claim my car.)

asfjkd;alj

The Twins have Morneau, Hunter, and White coming up in the 7th. For Chrissakes, fellers, let's do something.

Don't call it a comeback. Well, yeah, I guess you can call it that. Yeah, do. Do call it a comeback.

The weekend was fun. My daughter joined the ranks of the Roman Catholic church. Some of you will call them wine-swilling, incense-swinging papists. I call them my brothers and sisters in faith. On Friday I wanted to go watch my old high school football team (currently ranked #1 in the state) take on #9. I pulled into the game late and the scoreboard showed my mighty Trojans trailing 12-7. But as we tried to enter the game, the rain and the lightning started coming down and they had to delay the action. I knew that by state law they had to wait for 30 min after the last spotted lightning bolt, so I knew this could talk hours, if the game came off at all.

I went home. The next day I found out that the final score was 45-12. The other team didn't score again.

On Sunday the Minnesota Twins had to win and the Tigers had to lose in order for the Twins to win the division. Any other result had the Tigers going into the playoffs as division champs and the Twins as the wild card. The Twins took a lead against Chicago, but the Tigers were up by 4 runs on the lowly Royals in the 6th, so I turned off the TV, thinking that, oh well, the wild card ain't so bad.

My radio this morning told me that the Twins did eventually win their game. The mighty Royals, who are now the exact opposite of Osasuna, came roaring back to beat the Tigers in extra innings, giving the Twins the division.

I listened to bits of the Iowa State- UNI game on the radio on Saturday. UNI was leading by 14 or so when I last checked in. As my dad flipped on the post-game show, we learned that the Cyclones survived a squeaker, 28-27.

I watched the entirety of the Iowa-The Ohio State Game. I never gave up hope, always thinking (until Chandler's fumble) that the Hawks could come back. They didn't.

The lesson: when things go bad for your team, turn off the TV, the radio, walk away, go home and drink and swear. Next morning you will learn of said team's amazing and improbable turnaround.

BC update.

It's golf week in B.C. Here are two blogs that love and hate comics like I do.

http://golfcount.wordpress.com/
http://joshreads.com/

Mark 9:30

So on Sunday I was sitting in church, listening to the gospel reading of the week. It was the one where Jesus and his disciples were walking somewhere (that narrows it down) and the apostles were arguing about whom Jesus loved the most (or who was greatest among them, depending on you translation). Then Jesus got all preachy and started with the "first shall be last, last shall be first" stuff.

It got me thinking about the actual argument. Sure, Peter and James can make a great case for themselves. But what about Thaddeus and Philip? What was their hand in the argument? Did they talk about that time that Jesus and them were hanging out and they had some water/wine and, man, they just really connected. Maybe Thad, Phil, and James the Lesser (ouch!) gave up on being the most loved and got on someone else's bandwagon, trying to gain points with the higher-ups.

This would be like if some Cowboys and 49ers fans were arguing about who had the best teams in the 1990s, but they had to listen to a Chargers fan or a Patriots fan chime in with "Hey, we went to the Super Bowl that one year. Don't forget about that." "Hey, Jesus slept at my house for a week last fall." "Oh yeah, well I sent Jesus a really nice card on his birthday. It had a picture of my family and a letter recapping everything we'd done in the past year. He told me he really appreciated it. I'll probably do it again next Jesus' birthday."

Some apostles probably didn't even get into the discussion. I'm sure Judas just sulked resentfully behind the others. Thomas, obviously already full of doubt, would've been shouted down quickly by Simon the Zealot. The sibling rivalries would flare up. John would've got big-brother noogies from James if he spoke up. Peter would be all "Stop hitting yourself!" on Andrew. Bartholomew would've got a bunch of "Who ARE you? Are you new?" jokes. Like that never gets old. And Matthew would've [put hilarious tax-collector joke here before publishing, (surefire laughs)].

So I was thinking about that for a while and then that one dude in the dress said "Go in peace to love and serve the Lord." Then he walked out singing followed by two young kids. The hour went by pretty quickly.

Thank you, I'll be here all week entertaining you flockers on the King of Kings Christian family cruise ship. Enjoy your dinner, try the Lamb of God, its to die for. Good night!

We're going to let her drive someday, too.

We were in church on Sunday with the little one, all dressed up in her new blue jeans and a pink and purple sweater. (Remember the pink and purple flowery sweater for later in the story.) Of course all the ladies had to come over to coo and touch, which is fine. (Not so much the touching, but it's tough to slap away all those old lady hands. They're quick.)

One particular Church Lady came up to me a said "He's beautiful, what's his name?"

I replied "Cecilia."

She replied "Cecilia? Oh, it's a she. I assumed with the jeans that it was a boy. I guess you just can't tell nowadays."

My reply was not-at-all-stunned silence.

Special Day in a Boy's Life

OK, so it's not 200K miles, but it was still cool. I flipped the gauges to metric so my in-laws could check my speed periodically and I noticed that I was near a big milestone in a car's life. Kilometer stone, I mean. See, that's why we can't switch. Who would want to say "you give 'em a cm, they take a km?" Or sing along with songs like "14.512 metric tons" or "804 Km."

Or how about this classic:

Well, I'm hot blooded, check it and see
I got a fever of thirty nine point four-seven-six
Come on baby, do you do more than dance?
Im hot blooded, Im hot blooded

I'll stop now, but go ahead and do your own conversions in the comments. Try it! They only get hilariouser and hilariouser.

Just some links.

I see no reason why this guy, sound unheard, shouldn't be my favorite musician.

Of course, Optimus Rhyme would replace this guy, who was involved in a shocking drug bust this weekend. Say it ain't so! And Hank Williams drank? Stop!

I shouldn't joke about Hank Williams. I should let him rest in peace, like Alistair Cooke. (When I first saw the headline "Fate of TV host's cadaver raises questions about tissue industry," I thought, "Wow, did Alistair Cooke choke on a tissue? I thought he was already dead."

This story about renting an old rotary phone may seem way out there, but this actually happened in my house. My grandparents and later my parents rented a big black rotary from US West from 1964 until the mid-1990s, when someone in the house said "Hey, why don't we get a $10 cordless from Wal-mart instead of paying $5 a month for this thing." The kicker was that we had to send the old phone back to US West when we cancelled the lease. That old phone would've been useful in keeping grain wagons from rolling away. Or we could've put in on top of a pile of old roofing tin to keep it from blowing away.

Parting shot: I "got" B.C. today, but I did not like it. I read Archie, but it seemed more like talking than a joke. Work harder, Archie writers.

Gee, I'm really sorry your mom blew up, Ricky.

I wanted to glance at the news quickly before I left for work, but wouldn't you know it, something tickled my fancy and here I am posting.

Here's the headline on CNN.com
"Tropical Storm Lane lashes Mexico's Pacific coast"

Lane?! They named a storm Lane? They guys at the NWS have to be sitting around their concrete bunker cracking "Better Off Dead" lines all this week.

Here are a few gems:
Monique Junot: He keeps putting his testicles all over me.
Lane Myer: Excuse me?
Monique Junot: You know, like octopus? Testicles?
Lane Myer: Ohhhh. Tentacles. N-T.

Lane Myer: [talking about skiing the K-12] Look Charles, I gotta do this. If I don't, I'll be nothing. I'll end up like my neighbor Ricky Smith. He just sits around crocheting all day and snorting nasal spray.
Charles De Mar: He snorts nasal spray? Know where I can score some?
Lane Myer: ARE YOU GONNA HELP ME OR NOT?

Here's a link for a Better Off Dead fan page. Can you believe there are only two or three of these on the whole web?

As Thursday winds to a close, let me just say: Go Cyclones.

That was my fault and I apologize.

The other day I was happy. I expressed this happiness out loud, thus I am being punished. God punishes me for being anything more than cautiously optimistic about anything in sports. (S)He lets me be openly happy about the big important things in life (love, family, friends, stylish menswear) but GD me if I can't say something nice about a sports happening then have it all fly right back at me like diaper contents into a fan.

Minnesota Twins rookie sensation Francisco Liriano is out for the season. He made his first start in a month yesterday and had to leave after two innings with a wrecked elbow.

And we all know how the rest of this month is going to go. Whoever wins the Iowa Bowl on Saturday will do it while losing three key players to ACL tears. Sevilla's netted their last goal of the season. The Vikings better pop the corks on the champagne now, 'cause there ain't gonna be no more winning this season. The Twins will perform a mathematic impossibility and will stand below the Royals before the end of the season. Cripes. I'll probably tear a rotator cuff while typing the next sentence.

There. That should be enough negativity to stave off any more downturns. That'll be my mantra from now on. Win with negativity.

Screw you, everybody! Hope your day's a clustermess.

Beat Iowa

Ways babies change a man, #1

If one of my friends were to be sleeping at my house some weekend, then wake up in the middle of the night screaming and crying because his pants were full of poop, I would precede to wake up, storm out of my bedroom, start kicking and punching said friend for waking me up, then drag him out onto the lawn where he would remain for the rest of the night. I might invite him back in for breakfast.

With the baby, I sing songs to her while I clean her little culito then I rock her until she falls asleep again.

Also, if a friend woke up in the middle of the night because he was hungry, I would definetely not let him take liberties with my wife that the baby currently enjoys.

Linking.

Some of you that have blogs have not yet linked to ElMunditoDeCecilia.Blogspot.Com . I know you communists are godless, but do you also have to hate babies? If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times: GO BACK TO RUSSIA.

Goodness, Hotness

I've had a very busy but very fun weekend. Apart from the new baby, I got to watch futbol americano on the tv while sitting around at the hospital. I root for the Iowa Hawkeyes, who went into double overtime on Saturday against Syracuse. As Iowa scored in the second overtime to make the score 20-13 and then were preparing to defend Syracuse's attempt to tie the score, my mother-in-law looked at the little scoreboard in the corner of the screen and said "What are you worried about? Your team's winning by seven goals." Then I got to watch highlight of my other favorite team barely hang on against UNLV. The UNLV coach and players camped out on the field for 15 min after the game in protest of the game's final play not being reviewed (was he out of bounds or wasn't he). If this happens during the game, the officials have until the next snap of the ball to review, if the next play happens, they can't go back. So, how does this work at the end of a game? If ISU's Coach McCarney gets his entire team showered and into sweatsuits is the play irreversible? Or does the team simply have to unstrap their pads? I'm not sure that if UNLV decided set up a Hooverville on the 50-yard Line the refs still couldn't review that play today.

Maybe the ISU-UNLV game will become official when they kickoff their next game. Who do Iowa State play next? Let me think on this. (...) Still thinking. (...) One moment and I'll have it. (...) Eureka! They travel to the IC to play the Iowa Hawkeyes. My baby was born on Thursday and a scant 9 days later comes the greatest day of the year. Does it get any better? No. Well, maybe if Cecilia were a little more sleepy during the hours of 10 PM and 6 AM, that would be better, but I may as well ask them to stock ice-cold Budweiser in the vending machine at work. This week is like Holy Week, only instead of looking forward to our savior's death on Friday and his resurrection on Sunday, we wait and argue all week then we eat 5 or 6 bratwurst in a three-hour span on Saturday morning, then we try not to throw up while sitting in the middle of 70,000 screaming, drunk Iowans. The parallels are eerie.

In other news, people are avenging Steve Irwin's death. Do these same people attack sports cars or bottles of whisky when some actor wrecks his porshe? Do they attack drugs or just the Gods of Rock and Roll in response to Jim Morrison, Jimi Hendrix, and Janis' deaths? Myself, I hate AIDS ever since it took Freddy Mercury. So now I'm against AIDS and I sometimes wear a red ribbon to show that. Its just my little thing that I do. I yell at AIDS whenever I see it on a toilet seat.

Oh, and the Minnesota Twins are 1 1/2 games out of first place, 1 1/2 games up in the wild card race, Johan Santana hasn't lost since June (every one of you knock wood, GD it.), Brad Radke doesn't think his arm will fall off until November, well past the World Series, Carlos Silva's ERA is approaching a grade point average, and Francisco Liriano is off the DL and scheduled to start on Wednesday. Anybody else aroused after reading that paragraph?

EDIT:
Sevilla FC has won their two games in La Liga 4-0 and 3-1, putting them in a tie for first with two wins, but ahead of everyone on goal differential. They didn't beat any great team in those first two games, but they did beat a little team called FC Barcelona in the Supercopa Final, which matches the champions of the Champions League (the cream of European soccer teams) and the UEFA Cup (whatever is just under the cream).

Monday Night Football: Vikings 19 - Redskins 16

To recount, my favorite football & futbol teams have played 8 games this season and they are 8-0. (That's including soccer, so you'll notice there are no girlie ties mixed in. When the Iowa game ended regulation time in a tie on Saturday, my mother-in-law consoled me with "Oh well, a tie's not so bad." I let her know that, oh yes, we would decide a winner today. "What if they're still tied after five hours?" she asked. Then we start hour six, baby. We start hour six.)

God bless us, every one.

New Link, Bookmark it or lose it.

Check out "El mundito de Cecilia" at ElMunditoDeCecilia.blogspot.com for all your Cecilia needs. That's where moms and pops will try to quench your thirst for Cecilia-related knowledge. If there's any sort of photos or information that you would like to see at elmunditodececilia.blogspot.com, then be sure to send me your email address so that I can tell you to have your own baby and write whatever you want in your blog about him or her.

I kid because I love. Let me know.

Mas

Here are some pics taken by Aunt Erin in the evening of the 7th. She's yawning in the last one.

Cecilia L. O.
8 lbs. / 3.6 Kg
19 in.
b. 07:53 7 Sept. 06

Cecilia

Baby News!

Well, the big day finally came. Here she is with her mother and I. She's got her mother's dark hair and my complexion.




Ahhh, you all know I'm full of bologna. The truth is that our little baby probably will be born by the time most of you loyal readers read this. We're up for a C-section at 7:30 in the AM on Sept. 7. Our little girl is heads up, butt down, and everybody know she cain't come out like that. If any of you do read this before the zero hour, please say a little prayer for my little baby and her mother and we'll hope everything comes up roses. My next post should see me typing as a proud papa. Peace.

Scenes from an Italian Restaurant (rhymes with cholive charden)

Checked out the local Italian chain eatery with the missus on Labor Day. Probably our last date as a a swinging young couple. We checked out the 5:10 of Little Miss Sunshine. I'd review it, but well, it's been done. I'll just say that I liked it a lot except for the slapstick hospital scene. For the record I believe that all comedies should have an Arkin in a supporting role. Said Arkin's role should be so that you might want to spend time with that character but you would not like to be related to him. Anyway, as Mr. Joel says, "it all depends upon your appetite." Here's some vignettes of the evening.

13-year-old twin girls. Both with hair that hangs mid-thigh when braided. My wife predicts deep psychological trauma when time comes for a trim.

Two dudes, one in a college sweatshirt, the other in a grey tee belly up to the bar as we all wait for a table. Slightly fratty-looking fellows, but I don't hate. The bartendress approaches and ask for their order. "Two strawberry daquiris," they reply. Has my sexual-orientation-dar failed me? I had these two pegged as lite beer aficionados who had come from a beer-bong tailgate and were eating supper before a night of slipping roofies to freshmeat at the bar. "Would you like that check together or separate." "Together," they answer. There is nothing as queer as folk.

I'm beginning to think that this country may be at the beggining of a epidemic in obesity. Either that or they're making booths way smaller than they did 20 years ago. Nope, I've got it. Some fellers saw the movie Se7en and thought they'd check if that could really happen with a never-ending bowl of pasta.

Which brings me to the never-ending bowl of pasta. Yes, I'll have that. I will accept that a big table of high schoolers was just here and they ate all the spinach alfredo sauce, but I cannot forgive. I will start with sun-dried tomato and parmesan over linguine. Without a doubt the zenith of my pasta-selections. Luckily my senses were dulled by the time I got to spaghetti and marinara. Three plates in and I was in a carbo-haze. Oh, and don't go asking for one last dish only to ask for a take-home box three minutes later. The portions decrease accordingly, so its not worth taking home a small heap of that last order. Well played, Olive Garden, you've won this round.

Wines: The Straccali Chianti I tried was poop. Sweet yet flavorless. As wet as koolaid but you forgot half the grape powder. I wanted to break the glass and shove the stem into your chest like a stingray's barb (too soon?). The Rocca delle Macie was superb. Hearty and dry. My compliments to the vintner. Were your steaks worth my time of day, I might order an entire glass instead of haughtily sampling and shooing you away.

A lot of people have babies. Stay with me here. When you walk around with a woman who's 9-months preggers, you get to hear a lot of baby stories. Now, there are people you look at and think "you've got kids." And then there's our Casey-Affleck-at-20-years-old lookin' waiter who pulls out a photo of his 4 month old. So now I don't wonder why the earth's population is balooning. I've learned that lots of people have babies, even those that don't look it. I'm considering this for my thesis.

Iowa Hawkeye defensive lineman Brian Mattison would lose a beard-growing contest to Haley Joel Osment. Probably to Hallie Kate Eisenberg, also. I'll bet you he keeps toads and other critters in his front overall pockets when he comes back from playing down by the pond. I'll bet you 4-5 grandmothers a day walk up to him and give him milk and cookies on the street. I'll bet you he gets red and giggles when one of his coaches says a swear. Brian Mattison did not get the never-ending pasta bowl. He did take home something, which I do not approve of. I want my Hawkeyes well-fed. Clean your plate now, Bri-bri, there'll be more food tomorrow.

My life's greatest regrets, #22

It was Steve Miller and not me who rhymed "taxes" and "facts is."

Just plain didn't "get" B.C. today.

Ours is called the Iowa Football Confederacy

My wife, who is a "foreigner," sometimes gets her English expressions mixed up. For example, when someone had asked what we were doing this Saturday, she replied "Well, he has to go to his 'Imaginary Football' Draft."

Ha! "Imaginary Football!" What a ridiculous name. It's "Fantasy Football," thank you, and it's very serious business. Why, to call it "Imaginary" is to imply that were all old, out-of-shape men pretending to run a football team for various reasons including but not limited to: having something to do at work besides work, having something to talk about other than our feelings and personal issues, being able to pretend that we are master strategists on par with Vince Lombardi and Bill Belichick, or that somehow we become closer to the players or the game through this act.

Imaginary Football. Harumph. I know it was an honest mistake, but to call it that just makes my friends and I sound like a group of sad aging men who've moved on just slightly from running out to the football field at recess shouting "I get to be Joe Montana!"

And we all know that is clearly not the case.

Notes from this morning's teacher's meeting (not kidding)

Firm stands against:

cluster-messes
yimmer-yammering
jackin' around
languishing in the hallway
the principal having to put on his ugly face
(notable absences include but are not limited to: lollygagging, dilly-dallying, roughhousing, and horseplay.)

Objectives for the year:

squash swearing
less shirking
seeing less flesh in student outfits

New Breakfast Policy
students can now get second breakfast (good news for all the immigrants from The Shire)

A photo

Notes.

Open Letter
To my neighbor with the "Children are a Gift from God" and "She's a Child, Not a Choice" bumper stickers: Do you think your gift from god might enjoy car rides with you a bit more if you didn't spend the whole time filling your car with cigarrette smoke? 'Cause that's what I think. Just a thought.

Bitch Better Have My Money
This guy has a story to tell, and he owes me $8.40 + tip.

The Worst Day of the Job
Got that letter from the school reminding us teachers when our first days of meetings and classes are. Which reminds me, did anyone see the winning Powerball numbers from Wednesday?

Fiestas

There will be two parties this Saturday evening, one will be for my beautiful bride and myself celebrating 364 days of marriage. The other will a celebration of the 2_th anniversary of the birth of this guy. Come one, come all to The Clubhouse 'round 7. I'm hoping to have sweet corn for our enjoyment as well as something to grill. Invitees are welcome to bring beverages or snacks to share.

There'll be pool, corn, movies, video games, and fun!

I'd appreciate a rsvp if your a'coming.

Fun with the scanner at the folks' house

Here are some early nudes of the author as a young man.

Here is the author as a young'un with his older sibling, and below with the younger.

Here we see the author in Western motif.

This one is just here to show you that nobody stays that cute for long. This is from a Christmas Card that went out around 1990. Do you ever wish for a time machine so you could go back and kill younger selves? I would tell this kid that the Hard Rock tank top he bought the day before the photo was taken was made for a woman. That's why the shoulder are wide and the neck cut low. What advice do you have for this young man? Be honest, he can take it.

Spend Your Summer in the Pool

Antibiotics are not doing the trick! The doctors are considering amputation! Yes! My World Cup fever is worsening! Check out the Red-headed Stranger's pool over at his site, fill it out, send it back to 'im. It costs a dollar, but it's worth a million. I'll be in, as soon as I can figure out the spreadsheet and the macros.

If you like online pools, check out this other one at espn.com. Just click on Mr. Cool ICE for the official Mr. Cool ICE FIFA World Cup Pool.

Group name: Mr. Cool ICE
Password: password

School's been blown to pieces...

No more pencils, etc. I am on summer vacation. If you ever wanted three reasons to be a teacher, look no further than June, July, and August. So, the answer is "yes" if the question is "Hey, you wanna have a couple o' beers and hang out?"

Anyone up for poker tonight? Let's do it.

Truly a Great Age

I just googled "Recliner of Rage" in order to gain a little insight, and the sponsored links to the right inform me that I can get one at "Bargain Prices. Smart Deals." at Shopzilla.com.


Here's the results page for any interested.

Read the comment of the previous post to know why I'm researching recliners.

Eat Fresh! But not as cheap!

Subway has discontinued its $2.50 daily 6" special. What? Were too many people patronizing your business? Too many of us taking advantage of the $.50 off the regular price? Do you think that Jared's charisma alone will keep me frequenting your establishment? Perhaps, but not assuredly. Be advised, Subway, you walk on eggshells with this guy.

Speaking of, is there anything sillier than buying a footlong planning on eating part now and saving the rest for later? Like that's ever happened. Once that deli paper is unrolled, footlong's ETA to my belly is about 4 min. Honey mustard's ETA to my pants is anywhere from :30 sec to 3 min.

More google video for soccer fans.

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-1315331812912205081

"Don't Tread"

The official rap for US Soccer heading into the World Cup, penned by Clint Dempsey. Click on the Don't Tread on Me logo to your right.

Avid Conservative Ted Nugent sang "Wang Dang Sweet Poontang"

If you're an avid reader of the conservative magazine National Review like me, I'm sure you were overjoyed to see that someone, finally, has put together the definitive list of conservative rock songs. Now we neo-cons don't have to spend hours of research when trying to put together a mix tape for a girl that will woo her just right.

Check out the list here.

Speaking of music and politics, I was listening to the Lee Greenwood classic God Bless the USA yesterday on the radio. The lyric "and I gladly stand UP, next to you, and defend her still today..." struck my funny. You know, our country is at war, and our boys are out there "defend[ing] her still today." However, I doubt that any of them can look to his (or her) side and say "Hey, that's Lee Greenwood next to me." I believe the army is still accepting recruits. So...um...Lee...uh...we're waiting.

Spare 30 seconds?

I purchased my first song on iTunes this week. La camisa negra by Juanes. A version that I had, um, "acquired" earlier was seriously flawed, so I splurged on the official version from our friends at Apple. Some of you may say "Oh, come on, $.99 isn't splurging," and still others might say "Why did you waste my time writing something this uninteresting?"

Where art thou, Mia Sara?

Rewatched Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Almost every performance: spot on, top drawer. That's why they call it a classic. Just like while watching Edward Scissorhands Alan Arkin's performance really stood out, Jennifer Grey's "Jeannie (some guys call me Shauna)" really impressed me. Ben Stein's and Edie McClurg's tired teacher/secretary cliches came off as tired cliches on, this, my (guesstimated) 18th viewing of the film.

Remember the scene where Ferris talks to the audience about how to fake being sick and a list of his talking points appears beside him? In the director's commentary, John Hughes comments "This was added post production." Really? Those letters didn't appear beside his head when you filmed it, John?

The high school they filmed it in was the same as The Breakfast Club. It was an abandoned high school. The facilities were all better than the high school I graduated from, but it was abandoned by the early '80s.

My advice for viewing this movie the the post-9/11 era United States: try to forget that Jeffrey "Dean Rooney" Jones is a convicted child pornographer. It kind of ruins the character.