Cerebrate Good Times

This all started with a banana. As I've noted before , bananas are something I want to like but struggle with. But I think I've discovered how to like them better. It's because I have this thing with maintaining my weight. My philosophy is that if I put on a couple pounds I work to eat better and get rid of it before I get overweight. But most people scoff if I make any kind of comment about trying to eat healthy. "Pssh, what do you have to worry about?" Well, I don't think I should make it harder on myself. Anyway, I've been on one such cycle recently, trying to minimize foods with added sugar and stop with treats for a while. But breakfast is hard, because I love me some cereal. I love to have it in the morning, and then have a bowl before bed. But it's hard for me to figure out what to eat for breakfast without it. I love eggs, but you can have only so many before you get sick of them too. So I decided to get some plain oatmeal, which I feel i...

We’ve had three significant snowstorms in the last three weeks. While the snow on the ground has mostly melted in between storms, the piles produced by snow plows have not. Our parking lot is gradually shrinking. Before the storm this morning, this drift was taking up 5 parking spaces. When I was a kid, we used to head to the church parking lot across the street and dig in these drifts to make forts.

Isn’t it weird how some things can be hilarious when you are tired but totally lame when you’re in full possession of your mental faculties? Last night I was sort of half asleep and the following conversation took place between two people in my mind. Person 1: “He’s really crabby sometimes.” Person 2: “And the rest of the time?” Person 1: “He’s not here.” Now, to be fair, I can’t remember the exact words, so it may have actually been funnier, but that’s the general idea. For some reason, in my half-asleep state it seemed pretty clever. Then I finally remembered it a few minutes ago, and I can’t for the life of me understand why I was so entertained by it. I guess the point is that if you’re a stand-up comedian, you should play some lullabies to get the audience to start to doze off.

Sometimes I wonder if our sense of humor reveals our true beliefs and values. For example, I admit that when I see a tiny woman driving a huge truck, with her eyes barely above the steering wheel, it amuses me. Does that make me some sort of misogynist? I don’t think she doesn’t belong behind the wheel, it’s just amusing for some inexplicable reason. I also think it’s funny when harmless injuries happen to people, like when people get smacked on the head with a cardboard tube or hit with a nerf ball. Does that make me a misanthropic sadist? Well, maybe. But look at it this way. I’m providing as much amusement to other people as they are to me. We may not all be willing to help each other achieve financial independence, but at least we can all score the occasional laugh off of each other. We might as well enjoy it without feeling guilty.

I have often heard people say things like “I’m no good with names, but I never forget a face.” I don’t know why there’s some sort of requirement that we remember one or the other. Personally, I am terrible with both names and faces. Seriously, every time I’m introduced to someone new I instantly forget both their name and their face, unless there’s something especially unique about them. If you’re 8 feet tall, have purple skin, wings, and your name is Vlad the Impaler, I will probably remember you. If, however, you’re a white male, about 6 feet tall, and have short, dark hair and brown eyes, there’s pretty much a zero chance that your name or face is going to stick in my memory. It’s nothing personal. It’s just the way my brain works. I also have an irrational fear that even when I’ve learned someone’s name, I will end up being wrong if I say it out loud. So there are times when I will avoid it, even when I’ve known the person for weeks or months. So I’d like to apologize in adv...

I think every neighborhood has one of these spots. It all starts innocently enough when someone putting an old desk out by the curb with a sign saying "Free!" Then someone adds an old washing machine. Pretty soon it blossoms into this crime against civilization: I'm so proud to live in this neighborhood.

In today’s most laughable news story, the Writers Guild of America just went on strike. Apparently this means nobody will be writing anything for television until the strike is over. My question is this: How will anybody notice? I mean, seriously, “original” writing these days means watching television shows from other countries and trying to figure out how best to steal their ideas. There hasn’t been a truly original idea in television in decades. The ironic thing is that the worst-case scenario is also the best-case scenario. In the case of a prolonged strike, people might actually venture outdoors, or into the increasingly unfamiliar world of reading. Children might rediscover their latent imagination, and parents might learn to actually interact with their children. What a tragedy that would be!

I love Halloween. I love that it doesn’t have the cutesy feeling of other holidays. I love dressing up. I love that nobody talks about “the true spirit of Halloween.” I love that you don’t have to give and receive presents and cards, which eliminates a lot of stress. You don’t have to feel guilty if you just have a good time, or even if you do nothing at all. It’s just a holiday that’s there to be enjoyed. So go forth and find the Great Pumpkin!

This is a drawing of a box elder beetle. We get a lot of these beetles in the house. They don’t bite and they don’t get into our food or anything. They just walk around, looking for decaying plant matter to eat. It’s sort of like having a bunch of little pets that you don’t have to take care of. They do occasionally fly around inside (which makes my two-year-old point and say “Whoa! Bug!”), but they really don’t bother us. This life, however, is apparently not always fulfilling enough. And so, at about 10:00 last night, one of these little critters decided to climb up into a halogen floor lamp and take his own life. The immediate result of this, aside from the poor thing’s demise, was that we wondered if our house was on fire. Let me tell you, the smell of frying insects is probably something to avoid whenever possible.

Every morning on my way to work I see a certain car parked in a certain lot. It’s a 2006 or 2007 Mustang GT with some pretty expensive work done on it. It’s a very masculine-looking car. This morning I saw the owner, and it is a twenty-something man. The thing that doesn’t quite add up for me (and call me old-fashioned here) is that he apparently works at a flower shop. I can understand a guy working at a flower shop. It’s a perfectly honorable job to have. But it seems to contrast with the typical image of the guy who has the souped-up sports car. Maybe the car is compensation.

Sorry about the lame title. It was an homage to all those Bugs Bunny cartoons which used the word “hare” in them (which was about 85% of the cartoons in which he appeared). Anyway, those of you who know me are probably aware that I usually go too long between haircuts. I’m currently at that point where the hair starting to take on a mind of its own and become totally unmanageable. And my sideburns are starting to look like those of the man for whom the term was coined: Any yet I always put off getting a haircut, for reasons which are unknown to me. Let’s consider the possibilities. 1. I know my hair is only going to last so long. I’m tempted to take pictures of my hairline to see how fast it’s receding. So I want to cherish every last moment with it, and getting it cut is symbolic of losing it. 2. I got a bad haircut once, when I was about 12, and the trauma has stayed with me despite the overwhelming odds that it will be a good cut. 3. I hate spending $15 or $20 that I feel...

There are some things in life that I don’t understand, such as why the following foods exist: Pre-packaged sandwiches Green-apple flavored anything (except actual green apples) Pasta salad (but I love actual pasta) Butter cookies in a tin I honestly want to know if you know anybody who likes any of these things (I’m guessing green apple has some fans).

This little beauty has been appearing around the office today.

Well, it’s that time of year again. I know what you’re thinking, and no, I don’t mean that time when the leaves turn golden, the air turns crisp, and the warm aroma of an apple pie baking in the oven drifts gently through the house. No, it’s the time of year when you’d better take a close look at your shower before you hop in each morning, because there’s nothing quite like standing there naked and wet, only to discover a large spider crawling toward your exposed foot. I try not to kill spiders as a matter of principle. I usually put them outside or just leave them be. But when I’m at my most vulnerable, dripping wet in the shower, and I see one in there, it’s more than likely not going to survive the encounter. To all the arachnids for whose untimely death I bear responsibility, I offer my most heartfelt apologies. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop.

Do you remember those “Everything I Needed to Know I Learned in Kindergarten” posters? Yes, yes, we all thought they were cute at the time. But the fact is, I probably learned far more useless facts in school than relevant information. For example, how to distinguish between Doric and Ionian Greek pillars has, strangely, never been a qualification for employment; and I rarely ever need to calculate the cosine of anything. No, no, the useful skills and information I learned in school were often unintended side-effects of my education. I know how to recognize the moment a guy is about to punch me, and I know how to make a museum-quality sculpture from paper, tape, spit, and paper clips. What lessons did you inadvertently learn in school?

Butt Crack n. : The small opening at the top of the car window allowing smokers to dislodge the ash from the tip of a cigarette What words do you secretly use to describe things?

Have you ever filled out one of those surveys which asks you for your favorite ________? They sometimes circulate on the internet among friends, but I’m referring to an actual piece of paper you fill out, like on the first day of class, or when joining some other group. Anyway, I filled one of those out a week ago. In this case, it was specifically about music. It asked for my favorite song, musical group, and music-related memory. Favorite music-related memory? How many people have a ready answer to that question? I must be strange, because I don’t generally have “favorite” things. I don’t have a favorite color, for example. I don’t have a favorite food. I don’t have a favorite song. I’m sure this is unusual, but I don’t like the idea of my whole life and personality boiled down to a few words.

I was a pretty short kid, right up until about my junior year of high school. I didn’t feel like I ever had a real growth spurt, but eventually I attained my present, average height. So I understand what it’s like to be short, and from living in Korea for a couple of years I understand what it’s like to be tall (the average height there is increasing quickly due to better nutrition, but I was still taller than average). And I must say, there is something about being taller than someone that makes you feel a little bit superior in some inexplicable way. It’s not the same for men when they’re taller than women, but I bet women feel it especially strongly when they’re taller than men. And, inversely, I feel a little inferior to those taller than me. Just for the record, most of the people I know, tall or short, male or female, adult or child, could effortlessly beat me into submission, so I have no idea where the feeling comes from. There’s absolutely no logic behind it, and no physical...

Recently I was reminded of one of the few useful skills I possess (I’m afraid the ability to open doors with my feet will not result in significant financial gain). For some reason, I have the ability to convince people that I know what I’m talking about, even when I’m completely making things up. Personally, I think it has to do with wearing glasses and looking as much like a nerd as possible. I’d like to try an experiment talking to people on the street, trying to gauge by their reaction how much they believe my "knowledge" on various subjects. I’d do it with glasses, neat hair, and a spiffy orthopedic shoe/sweater vest combo. At any rate, the question is this: how can I make the most of this ability, short of becoming a “scientist” for the tobacco lobby?