The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Posts tagged ‘Weekly Wacko’

Weekly Wacko (50)

Scatter-Shot

A few things from this weekend.

1) Yesterday a work buddy and I went to the SMU v Rice game at Rice. Rice is like the Houston version of SMU, but Rice didn’t strike me as being as snobby as SMU (though I am admittedly biased against SMU in this case).

SMU won, which was the best part of the game.

BUT. A close second was Rice’s band.

During halftime the Rice band took the field. They had a group of maybe 8 guys in shorts and shirts off to one side. Then I noticed they were tossing a Frisbee. Oh and apparently a fake/prop/empty keg was being dragged around by one guy … Hey, those shirts are all polo and the collars are popped …

That’s when I realized that those Rice students were doing their best impression of SMU students. This cracked me up pretty good. One of the Rice students also had a fake muscle-man outfit on with no shirt on over it.

The band played some songs then stripped off their band uniforms to reveal that underneath all of them were wearing ‘SMU outfits.’

Awesome show.

2) This book I’m reading for class keeps referencing Dilbert. I started to think I should go buy one of those Dilbert books because I’d probably enjoy it more now …

That’s when my brain stopped and I was sad for myself.

Corporate Brad indeed.

3) I’m wearing an Arizona Diamondbacks t-shirt today. I like this shirt. For a while – during the most heated of the news stories on Arizona and immigration laws – I didn’t wear the t-shirt. This is because Arizona became associated with some bad things. Protesters would even show up to Diamondbacks games when they traveled out of state to play.

I want to make it clear that I am pro Arizona Diamondbacks. Anti racism. When I want to support racism I’ll get a t-shirt that says, “let’s go racists – race it up!” Or whatever it is the KKK wears underneath their white robes.

*

Well, that’s enough crazy for today. Time to make some pancakes for myself.

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Weekly Wacko (49)

Don’t Be THAT Guy

I’m going to depart from my usual trend – I’m going to make fun of someone besides myself.

I will still make fun of myself, but this time the focus on this is to poke fun at someone ELSE. Usually I try to keep these to just making fun of myself – but in my defense, I think this story is pretty funny.

When I was in the 7th grade I lived in West Point, New York. The home of the United States Military Academy. My family lived on post because my dad was in the Army.

I signed up, through the Youth Center, for soccer in the fall and spring seasons. I can’t remember if this was the fall or spring season – but I’m tempted to say fall.

The coach of our team was a cadet – those guys were everywhere (God’s Gang, a youth group through the church I went to, also had cadets helping out). Our coach seemed like a pretty committed guy, considering it was a soccer team comprised of 7th and 8th graders (let the ribbing begin…).

I told some friends of the family, who were also cadets, that so-and-so was my coach. They informed me that they did not like him, he was a tool, and he … get this … cut the sleeves on his PT (physical training) shirts, and then sew them back so they were tighter. This way his shirts would hug his arms.

NOW, I’ll be honest and tell you that I doubt this was true. But it was still an odd thing to hear about someone. And an awesomely odd rumor to have about someone.

Our soccer team that year was amazing. Seriously.

Kids on our team also ran cross country or did track, or hockey, or basketball – we were machines. Two guys on our team dominated cross country all that season. One guy was in 8th grade and about 6 feet tall. He scored a goal from midfield one game.

But, as good as we were … we almost lost a game. It was the same game as the midfield goal.

After the game we noticed that our coach was still sitting over on the sideline where he’d been during the game. What’s that all about?

He called us over for a talk. And what a talk.

“Guys …,” I’m not sure how exactly the talk went, only four points stick out in my mind.

1) He was disappointed in us because we didn’t perform like we should’ve.

2) He sounded disappointed. You could tell by the tone.

3) He said (4) sincerely, sadly, and with regret (because he’d spoken too soon). More impressively I somehow managed not to laugh in his face.

4) “I even told my girlfriend I was proud of you guys.”

There you have it. One of the great motivational speeches of all time.

Pride: REVOKED!

(On a plus note one of my other coach’s was named Sven. How cool is that? Coach Sven is very fun to say.)

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Weekly Wacko (48)

Dear Diary/Blog,

Today is my first Masters class (or is it masters?, or Masters’?) … thankfully it’s an engineering one so that question doesn’t matter that much.

Anyhow – I have mixed feelings about this.

It’s nice for the obvious reasons – if I get a masters it’ll help my ‘career’, my company is assisting in paying for it (BOO YAH!).

It’s bad for the following reason – I don’t like thinking of myself as having a ‘career.’

I remember when my brother told my folks they’d be grandparents my mom was not in favor of the idea of being labeled a “grandmother.” I’ve since seen the same reaction on some sitcom or movie or something. Anyhow – she pointed out that grandma’s have white hair and are this and that. And she wasn’t those things.

[This unwillingness to accept the idea of being “grandma” led my mom to try and find another name besides grandma. Not mee-ma, not o-ma (or however you spell that), but something new. Something hip and fresh. My sister and I leaped on this and suggested things for my mom and dad like, “tango & cash,” “salt & pepper,” “beavis and butthead,” “cinderella and ugly-stick,” etc. … The Cinderella one I just now made up, the others we did suggest.]

ANYHOW.

I think this reluctance to embrace the idea of being a ‘career’ person is very common among people my age … and I don’t know if it’s a problem or a good thing (I’d lean toward problem but probably just because I’m more old-fashioned) but it boils down to – so what?

I’m not going to quit and join the Peace Corps (though it’d be very neat) because I’d feel like I was doing the wrong thing. I have a nice job, I make money, I’m in a good program at work, I am actually enjoying work … but all the while the thought lingers – ‘is this what I really want?’

I wrote before about how nice the IDEA of writing (and being published and supplementing my income) and being a teacher would be. But the key thing there is the word IDEA – would I enjoy being a teacher, would I be good at it? Who knows.

What’s my point in all this? No point, really. Just complaining. Oh, the terrible woes of a to-be suburbanite. It’s life, and I realize that, but every once and a while you’ve just got to do an old fashioned bitch-session.

If anyone reading this wants to give me a billion dollars to travel the world and read good books – you can take this problem right out of my hands for me. Any takers??

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