And so on.

Me at Paging Columbus!

2011-09-13T10:41:00.001-07:00

Paging Columbus is a really cool group that hosts a bunch of different readings at the amazing OSU Urban Arts Space in Columbus, Ohio. When I was living near Columbus, the incredible Hannah Stephenson set up this reading with James DeMonte, Lesley Jenkie, Anne Valente, John M. Bennett, and me. I wish I was still around so I could go to some of the cool things they've got going on.

I read these things rapid fire. At the 2:40 mark, you can see me make a joke about how one person responded to my poems. In case you can't hear, the man claps. I say, "Oh thank you. Covered up the sound of the crickets."

Seriously though, it was a good crowd, and a spectacular reading. I know that the next time I'm in the area, I will be checking out Paging Columbus.

Meleagris gallopavo, Wattle, and Snood: That Turkey is Cuttin' Up

2011-04-07T19:28:00.000-07:00

I took this picture of these three turkeys FROM THE SECOND FLOOR of the building I teach in on February 8 of this year.

I stress that the picture was taken from the second floor because my camera is junk, and these turkeys (one male and two females) are huge. They've been hanging out on campus here for a while, and the students do their best to stay clear of them. With good reason.

When I left my building to walk to my car today, there was a small crowd pointing across the street and laughing. The two female turkeys were on my side of the street, but the male was on the other, wings flared, pinning a tall, greasy, long-haired, and clearly inebriated man against the adjacent barber shop.

The man wound up and took long, erratic, sweeping kicks at the turkey, missing each time in increasingly hilarious fashion, all the while shouting incomprehensible curses at the turkey. I might have heard "leave me alone!"

The turkey made a horrific hissing noise, dodged the kicks, and pecked the man in his legs and crotch.

It was quite possibly the greatest thing I have ever seen.

I've always wondered how I would react in moments like these. I'd like to think that I would remember that I do indeed have a video recorder on my phone, but no. Instead I watch in pure delight. Maybe it's a generational thing. Cell phone video recorders are new within the last decade, right? Tall, greasy, long-haired, and clearly inebriated man could have been a YouTube celebrity.

And the turkey was the perfect bird for this moment. Too often the turkey gets a bad rap, like the goofy, ugly cousin of the chicken, whose meat we only like on subs and Thanksgiving. But, Turkeys are omnivores. They've been known to eat snakes, which is way more rock and roll than I ever was in my early twenties. They exhibit sexual dimorphism, which is fun to say. And they are polygamous, too. I'm not saying that's a positive thing, but it can't be easy.

I guess I can understand why Ben Franklin, when criticizing the choice of the bald eagle as the national bird, wrote that the turkey is "a little vain and silly, 'tis true...[but is] a bird of courage, and would not hesitate to attack a grenadier of the British gaurds who should presume to invade his farm yard with a red coat on" (SEE THE SOURCE). Or, in this case, act out the most hilarious attack on a tall, greasy, long-haired, and clearly inebriated man in history.

It's turkey mating season, folks. Beware.

Bedbugs and Cockroaches are Actually Kind of Nice in this Case

2011-03-28T18:33:00.000-07:00

Two years ago I put up a blog post about a song my dad used to sing to me. Part of the song went like this:
I woke up in the morning
and looked up at the wall
The bedbugs and the cockroaches
were playin' a game of ball.

The score was two to nothin'
the bedbugs were ahead
a cockroach hit a homerun
and knocked me out of bed.

Since June 2008, hundreds of people from all over the world have visited that post, and quite a few people have posted the versions with which they are familiar (read them here). It has been great reading all of the different versions of this song, so I did some more exploring and found this website, which has even more versions of the song and a vague history of where it came from.

"... in a number of folk songs popular during the early 1900's. A version that appears to be one of the oldest concerns the trepidations of a vagrant in New York City... The verses are included in the song "I don't want no more of this army life" which was popular during World War II... " VISIT THE SOURCE

Then I came across a verse that reminded me of another song he would sing:
Oh, it ain't gonna rain no more no more, it ain't gonna rain no more. How in the heck can I wash my neck if it ain't gonna rain no more?

When my dad sang it, it was not at the same time he sang the Bedbugs and Cockroaches song. Just all by itself. I can remember questioning why--if when it rained was the only time he could wash--would the neck be the most important body part? Or the body part that he would be bummed he couldn't wash. Of course, I never had a problem with bedbugs and cockroaches playing baseball or the fact that cockroaches have an obvious size advantage.

Scenes from Columbus

2011-03-01T11:58:00.000-08:00

I wasn't there, but James De Monte was. Here are some pictures he sent me.

Yellow No. 5 Envious of Ohio Senate Bill 5

2011-02-24T09:39:00.000-08:00

One thing I've noticed about the press the unions in Wisconsin and those protesting Ohio Senate Bill 5 are getting is that some news media and talk show hosts are quick to dehumanize public worker unions, to overgeneralize, and to lump all teachers together as "morally and horribly reprehensible," overpaid, and underworked thugs who are holding your children for randsom. Anyone who knows a teacher, police officer, or firefighter personally knows that's about as true as the reproductive dangers of too much Mountain Dew.

For something intelligent on the issue, read "A Union Teacher's Thoughts on Senate Bill 5" by John Skarl, a talented, devoted, and thoughtful teacher/writer. And read some of his other entries too. His blog is a reminder that teachers are people, not angry hordes, and a good deal of them do care about their students. Here's part of "A Union Teacher's Thoughts on Senate Bill 5":

Whenever my father spoke of Victor, a child bound to a wheelchair due to some horrid disease I can’t remember that killed him in his twenties, or the story involving a child that ate his lunch every day with my father and his colleague,his eyes (even now twenty years later) are usually watery. I don’t know what particular disability this latter child suffered, but I remember my father telling me that it took them nearly an entire year of question and answer to teach him that the capital of Ohio is called “Columbus.” The administration wanted to count special needs children as ½ a child. I could only sense that this was wrong from a moral standpoint.

Weather Channel Personifies the Weather, Reminds Me of Tom Green

2011-01-31T05:02:00.000-08:00

This morning my wife read to me the report from the Weather Channel "Multi-Day Dangerous, Destructive Winter Storm," which is less of a headline and more of an answer to a question:

"What could possibly go wrong?"

"Multi-Day dangerous, destructive winter storm?"

"Damn. You're right."

We've been watching the storm closely because we're driving early this week and I'll be flying on Wednesday. And as my wife checked the site every few minutes over the last couple days as if a watched storm doesn't boil, I noticed something extremely disturbing. Anthropomorphism.

The Weather Channel reports, "A multi-day, multi-region potentially historic and destructive winter storm will unleash its fury beginning Monday and will last through Wednesday."

Unleash its fury? Hyperbole is one thing, but implying that vaporized water is drunk with either power or whiskey and is about to take out its frustrations on us is another. I understand that cable ratings and web clicks are essential for advertising revenue and that fear is a good way to get that. News stations do it all the time. But making the weather sound like the Incredible Hulk does not give us what we want, which is just the facts. Is it going to snow? How much? Is that a lot compared to what we've had before? That's it.

Sure, our language already has built in potential for personification of weather. C'mon. Gusty winds? So, why not have some fun with it. Bodily functions are always good. Just make pleasant things pleasant, and unpleasant things unpleasant, but go all the way with it.

"A high pressure system remaining in place over the weekend will rub your back with the sun's rays."

"Clouds will remain yet another three days, eat all of your food, and use the last of your toilet paper."

"Heavy snows will move in later this week, c*ck-blocking all air travel."

Of course, this storm could turn out to be really bad for a lot of people. In which case I will feel really bad. I should know better than to mock Old Man Winter. He carries a heavy cane.

State of the Union Address Mentions Nothing About How Hard It Is Not to Talk Too Much About My Kid

2011-01-25T21:17:00.000-08:00

Baby books do not warn about some of the changes that come with being a parent. They don't warn about how your sense of humor will change. They don't warn you that you will feel some abnormal connection with strangers who have children of equal or lesser age. (Maybe it's just me, but if I'm out and I see a guy with a crying baby, I give him a look like we're fraternal twins. I want it to be the "been there, buddy" look, but I'm afraid it's the "I'm a creep admiring your baby" look.) Yet, for me, perhaps the worst change of all is how much I want to talk about my kid.

I've avoided talking about my daughter as much as I can (except on Facebook-that's fair game). The problem, it seems, is that I think everything she does is hilarious. Sadly, I know that other people do not think it is hilarious. I know this because I have been on the other side of that exchange.

PARENT: "OMG, my baby just walked part way across the room, then he teetered a little, pooped his pants, and fell right on his bum! Hahaha. Isn't that hilarious?"

ME: "Sounds like my weekends."

PARENT: "He's only eight months! Can you believe it?"

ME: "Well, I saw a deer do that at only a few minutes old. It was pretty funny, I guess."

PARENT: Blank Stare

ME: "I guess you had to be there."

That's the thing. You do have to be there.

And it has to be your kid.

So, as much as I want to tell everyone

about how while I was watching the state of the union address, my daughter cracked up laughing every time people clapped...

Or about how she calls Nerds, "turds"...

Or about how she thinks "Don't pick the prickly pear by the paw / when you pick a pear / try to use the claw / But you don't need to use the claw when you pick a pear of the big pawpaw" is the most profound and comical thing ever said.

People Magazine Still Acting Like I Don't Exist

2010-11-18T08:44:00.000-08:00

DAYTON - The editors of People Magazine's "Sexiest Men Alive" issue continue to act as if regular guy, Toby Terry, does not exist, snubbing him for the 10th year in a row since Terry was eligible as both a man and alive.

"I've legally been classified as a man since I was 18. You can imagine my surprise when I picked up issue after issue and saw no mention of my name," Terry said.

The snub has caused some controversy, polarizing the community. One area woman said, "I'm sorry, I don't read People Magazine," while another, in support of the magazine's decision to pretend Terry doesn't exist, said, "Who's Tony Teary?"

Terry believes that the incident was sparked by a poem he wrote a few years back that criticized the media for perpetuating negative stereotypes of masculinity in which he also confessed to being built like a waif and crying during those animal shelter commercials with slow music. "Just because I think it's wrong doesn't mean I don't want to feel accepted," Terry said.

People Magazine claimed they had never heard of Terry and insisted that the list is subjective.

When asked about his sexiness, Terry's wife responded, "Sure, he's sexy. In a non-erotic, unattractive kind of way."

People's rebuff has not discouraged Terry from looking forward to the next year, during which time he plans to develop an accent to increase his overall sexiness. "Look," Terry said, "by no means do I think I should be number one. At least an honorable mention would be-a-nice-a."

The New Bumper Sticker

2010-10-21T08:19:00.000-07:00

I've long been a fan of bumper stickers. I've never owned a bumper sticker, but I can think of no other material possession on which a person can advertise their personal beliefs, political affiliations, sense of humor, pride in their children, or love of guns for everyone to see. Of course, there are t-shirts and belt buckles that do the same, but those can lead to awkward situations, especially if the wearer forgets that she/he is wearing the readable apparel.

Bumper stickers allow for drive-by, one sided conversations, whereas belt buckles or t-shirts might give a reader time to respond. I am too cheap to buy bumper stickers. Also, placing a sticker on your car is too much of a commitment. Maybe today I might feel like, "It's not PMS, It's Y-O-U," but maybe I'll feel differently tomorrow or in a few hours. These reasons are why I prefer to shout my one-liner witticisms at pedestrians through my window while driving:

SCREECH! "I SUPPORT EQUAL MARRIAGE RIGHTS!" VVVRRRROOOOOOMMMM!

Maybe there is a market for Reply Bumper Stickers? Maybe reply bumper stickers could be printed backward so that people could see them in their rear-view mirrors. Say on your daily commute you see a bumper sticker regularly, "No blood for oil." The reply bumper sticker could be applied directly to your windshield, "That is a reasonable request," "What if it's just the plasma?" or "Ok, fine. But no more horses for bumper sticker glue."

The other problem with bumper stickers is that people will judge you because of your political stance or beliefs. Maybe I am a "Drama Queen," but if I plaster that all over for people to see, I won't be able to trick them into friendships that I could later accuse them of jeopardizing over something trivial.

That brings me to my point. Facebook statuses are the new bumper sticker. You've seen them, the "If you (believe in this/ know someone who is this or has been affected by this/ hate something everyone hates), then repost this on your status." You would think that I would support something like this. However, I have the same problem with the commitment. Maybe today I support the eradication of zombies, but maybe someday I'll meet a zombie whose gruff exterior only hides a big heart that challenges my preconceived notions of zombies. I would then regret having ever told the world about my approval of zombie eradication.

These statuses are also used to raise awareness, and I think this is a good thing. But I also think it's fair to assume, for instance, that everyone knows that you are anti-cancer and you like it on the dinning room table. I'm just saying.

Pre-engaged in Enragement

2010-09-20T09:48:00.000-07:00

When I saw this request posted at a Speedway near my new home, I dialed 411 and got the phone number. I called the attendant and notified her that I would be prepaying in advance by credit card. There was silence. I asked if she needed my card number. She said I could just use the card at the pump.

"I am at the pump," I said.

"Then just go ahead and pay."

"You mean prepay?"

"Uh, yeah," she said, with some attitude.

"Look, I'm just following your request to do so in advance." She was not amused.

I also noticed that someone tried to scratch out the "pre" in "prepay." This was an angry person.

Speaking of words that get to me, the word "engaged" bothers me too. When two people are engaged, we know that it means they will be married, but what kind of message does this send about marriage? When troops are engaged, it's usually with the enemy. They've entered into a battle. They've come together... with weapons and the intent to kill eachother.

"Toby, did you hear? We're engaged!"

"I thought you loved each other?"

"We do."

"Disengage!"

It's a threatening word. Engaged is one typo away from enraged. Why not, "we've agreed to marry at some point?" We're in agreement.

"Did you hear about those two? They're in agreement."

"That's nice. They're very agreeable."

Then nobody would ever have to call off an engagement. They could just disagree, which is less like backing out of a war and probably more true to the situation.

"They're no longer together."

"What happened?"

"He was cheating, she was enraged, so she disagreed."

"It's probably for the best. They were always engaged."

"It's a shame. They already prepaid for the reception in advance."

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE: Don't worry Northeast Ohio. I just got back.

2010-07-09T08:32:00.000-07:00

NEWTON FALLS - Last night at 9:29pm Eastern Time, Tobin F. Terry upstaged LeBron James’ media circus by announcing that he has returned to Northeast Ohio in a Facebook status update.

Terry’s announcement came just one minute after James declared his hatred of working-class people and terrible weather. Terry’s statement momentarily distracted a few people who otherwise weren’t paying attention to the basketball situation.

Alabama fans reacted in much the same way as Cleveland fans reacted to James’ leaving. Rather than burning jerseys, Alabamans are burning memories. “Who’s Tobin Terry?” one jilted fan said.

Terry’s announcement was preceded by months of deliberation and secrecy from the Terry entourage. “It was really hard for me to leave the Gulf coast,” Terry said. “But, I’ve been all over the world, and there’s still no place like home.”

One fan (name withheld) noted that the economic impact of Terry’s return may be enough to offset the impact of James’ departure. “Tobin owes me, like, 20 bucks. When he moved to Alabama, I thought I’d never get it back. Now, there’s a chance,” he said.

Rumors that Terry and Cavaliers owner Dan Gilbert were guzzling whiskey before the bizarre letter to the public remain unconfirmed.

Terry’s publicist (aka, Terry himself) is available to answer questions about the return.

Gregster's Famous!

2010-06-21T18:36:00.001-07:00

This is my good friend, Greg McElravy. He's the one quoted in the "about me" part of this blog. He lived with me and the fam for a short time here in Daphne, Alabama. While he was here, he trained at the gym you'll see in the video. Local channel 15, an NBC affiliate, did a story on him this past weekend. Check it out!

2010-06-05T09:30:00.000-07:00

This is a picture of Bruce Larsen's latest, taken in Fairhope, Alabama.

He who smelt it, delta.

2010-05-23T05:55:00.000-07:00

With the exception of my own distinct odors, I have been cursed with an elite sense of smell. On random days for the last few weeks here on my back porch, where I can see a slice of Mobile Bay, I've smelled something amiss. It's like someone melted crayons and shoved them up my nose. It is unmistakable. It is oil. Mother nature's B.O.

I'm not happy that my last three posts have had to do with the oil spill, but it's something that is constantly on my mind. I have been closely watching the events unfold since April, and I've watched as, by Google's estimates, nearly 40 million gallons of oil "leaked" into the Gulf. I've watched and thought about the effects of the spill as well, and it saddens me to see oil washing up even on the beach where I was married.

I wonder if my daughter will ever remember some of the beautiful sights she's seen down here. My heart says that it will not impact the wildlife and scenery for long, but my head says that it could take years, decades maybe.

But, the thing that has been keeping me up at night is that many claim that they just do not know the long term health effects on humans. Good luck finding credible information on that.

Good news is, unless you are a cleanup worker, even if you can smell the oil, the consensus is that the pollutant levels are low and not harmful to inhale. The only symptoms--and this is if you're too sensitive, or have asthma or other respiratory problems, or if you're too young, or if you're too old--are nausea, vomiting, or headaches! Sounds like my weekends.

But, wait! There's more! If that stuff bothers you, just stay indoors, close the doors and windows, and turn on your central air conditioning--unless you work outside, or you're too poor for central air and insulated windows, or none of that works anyway. The outdoors is for looking anyway. Wonderful.

While the companies involved with the whole oil spill are trying to play the he who smelt it dealt it card, and hurricane season is upon us, I will do what the parties involved should have done in the first place: have a plan for the worst case scenario. Although, my plan is not so much about how to deal with it directly.

"Slick" Used to Mean "Cool"

2010-05-16T09:29:00.000-07:00

The new picture at the top of the blog is what I've been calling my backyard for a year this June. I took the picture from the pier behind my apartment on Mobile Bay. If you can see the long yellow line along the water, that's the boom, the thing that's supposed to stop the oil from getting to shore.

I've tried to find humor in this whole thing, but it's hard. Aside from a few bad jokes about inexpensive hair product, the foresight I had to stock up on Dawn, or how it's not yet as bad as my face as a teenager, I can't help but have a feeling of heartbreak. I have no idea for sure what the extent of the effects of it will be, but I know that it will not be right for a long time.

There is a lot of blame going around. Plenty of finger pointing. I don't know enough about it to know who is to blame for sure, but even I feel a little guilty. Still, I wonder if it would bother me as much if I hadn't fallen for this place when I moved here last year.

We need a have a better way to talk about it. Oil Spill just doesn't seem to capture the tragedy of it. It's not the word oil that I take issue with. It's the word spill.

This whole debacle has had its fair share of ridiculous names. Top Hat? Junk Shot? But spill continues to feel out of place for me. A spill is something that happens on accident, sure, but it happens to milk, or the 32oz cup of water my daughter spilled on my laptop. A spill is innocent, inconsequential, nothing to cry over.

Spill is also something you do with your guts. "Alright buddy. Time to spill your guts." Or something that your gut does, "my gut spills over my belt."

A spill is something you can take, too. "He took quite a spill."

You can spill blood, but isn't that just a nicer way of saying kill someone? When I worked at Disney, kids didn't throw up, they had protein spills.

Spill just simply does not do enough of the work.

Perhaps it is called a spill on purpose. After all, spill is essentially a disguised pill. Maybe the s just makes it easier to swallow.

We do this to a lot of words to make them less dangerous. Let's call it what it really is. Your suggestions?

Publications Abound!

2009-11-05T07:30:00.001-08:00

James B. DeMonte, a good friend of mine, has a story titled "Communion" published here:
http://www.blotterrag.com/2009-11.pdf
Read it. My favorite thing about this pub--other than his story--is that the cover reminds me of when James and I had a poetry class together. He would write comments on my poems in crayon and illustrate them much like the cover of this. Ahhh. Memories!

Let me exclaim something

2009-10-19T11:53:00.001-07:00

Last week I spearheaded a boycott on the semicolon, and I got a good response from people who are prepared for the fight. The public is mobilized. They not only want to abolish the semicolon, but also the exclamation mark. I deliberated whether we should get involved in a two fronted war on unnecessary punctuation, but I'm convinced that the exclamation point is a significant threat to effective communication. A preemptive strike is in order. Perhaps we will need more troops.

The exclamation mark didn't show up on typewriters until the 70s, which was also the peak of the hippie culture. This is exactly what we need to enhance the emotion in a sentence: punctuation born from some hippie's acid flashback. Before that writers used an apostrophe over a period. That means the exclamation mark is no more than an upside down semicolon in disguise.

You'll typically find the exclamation mark after an interjection, a command, an exclamation, an ejaculation, or a statement expressing astonishment. Yeah. Do you think anyone has ever looked at a piece of writing and thought, "what this needs is more ejaculations." I don't think so.

The Spanish language puts an inverted exclamation mark before the sentence. Does a mark before the sentence make it premature? I'm just sayin... not only is the exclamation mark inappropriate, but in Spanish it's a selfish lover.

Author F. Scott Fitzgerald said that "An exclamation mark is like laughing at your own jokes." In other words, it's the Jimmy Fallon of punctuation.

But, without exclamation marks, how will readers know that I am excited/angry?

The exclamation mark is another example of a piece of punctuation that doesn't do anything other than what a period can do. The language you choose will do that for you. Let the words do the work. Some words work better than others. For example, can you even picture someone saying the following calmly?

I just slammed my finger in the f***ing car door.

I won the lottery.

Hey a**hole, the speed limit is 55, not 25.

The abomination known as the exclamation mark is becoming more prevalent in the internet community. Often the mark will be used several times after a sentence or fragment to convey excitement. Sometimes three or more times. Sometimes the numeral 1 will be placed on top of the pile of points to convey the sense that the typist is so excited they didn't even hit the shift key--e.g. Yippee!!!111. The numeral 1 has become a lazy exclamation mark.

Users, are you really that excited that you can't continue to hold down the shift key that you were already holding when you typed the first three exclamation marks? What are you doing with your pinky that keeps you from holding the shift key? Do you not realize that "Yippee!!!111" is five keystrokes more than "Yippee." I doubt that people are going to miss the point if you simply write "Yippee."

The reason I led the charge against the semicolon is because it is used as a way to separate people. In a way, the exclamation mark is doing the same thing. It's not making sentences stand out, it's making the writer stand out, but in a bad way.

Sorry, exclamation mark, this is personal. I just can't take you seriously. You do not convey anger or excitement. You say, look at me! I am whimsical like a drug induced hallucination and attention-starved like an MTV reality show star! You are a signal that the writer doesn't trust the reader. You are a period with a hi-top fade, this is not the 80s, and you need a haircut.

Time for a Revolution!

2009-10-15T12:55:00.001-07:00

I like to think of my poetry and fiction as accessible. By that I mean the average person could read it?would like to read it?and get something out of it. Entertainment, a message, whatever. I want readers to be able to get that without having to wade through too many elitist references or ridiculous vocabulary you wouldn't know if you hadn't spent that year in grad school reading obscure literature. I like to connect with people who are less concerned with their perceived intelligence and more concerned with the human experience. In that kind of connection, I feel like writing is important. It gives us the ability to connect with people on a level that we couldn?t any other way.

With all of the divisiveness going around, I thought getting into writing was a good place to hide from it. Boy was I wrong.

Language is used to divide as much as it is used to unify. Whether it be to make sure that people of different backgrounds can't read your ballots or use your ATMs, or that the GOP can't read your health care reform plan (a thousand pages and no pictures?), language is used all too often to divide.

And so, I've decided to start a movement. Being that even the smallest details of language carry ideological weight, I propose a plan of action to return language to its intended purpose, to a unifying form of communication for ALL people. I propose a boycott.

I propose a boycott of the semicolon used for anything other than to separate elements of a series in a series where items already contain commas. THAT'S IT.

Author Kurt Vonnegut said semicolons "are transvestite hermaphrodites representing absolutely nothing. All they do is show you've been to college." While I have no quarrels with the way a semicolon chooses to dress, nor do I discriminate because of a semicolon's private parts, I do have a problem with the idea of the freeloading mutant punctuation acting as a symbol of elitism.

Have you ever taken the time to look at a semicolon? It's deceptive and backward. First, think about its name. Semi- a Latin prefix for half, and then the word for a part of your intestine that's attached to the rectum. So, semicolon literally translates into a half-ass way to make yourself look smart.

Second, let's be real. The very look of a semicolon encourages the use of the middle class to promote the upper class. A semicolon is a period standing on the head of a comma that doesn't do anything more than what a period could do on its own. This kind of example is the very reason we are dealing with corporate greed today.

How many semicolons does it take to screw in a light bulb? None! They make the comma do it and take the credit!

Sorry, semicolon. This is personal. I'm tired of you popping up all of the time in my Microsoft Word document, trying to squeeze in where you don't belong. I'm tired of how you flaunt a bogus explanation for why to use you instead of my trusty and powerful period. I won't stand for it any longer. And neither will the people of this great country. (Except to separate elements of a series in a series where items already contain commas.)

Blog suggestions?

2009-10-08T07:53:00.001-07:00

I read a lot of blogs. What blogs do you read regularly? Any good suggestions?

Buger Time!

2009-10-07T07:52:00.001-07:00

I walked into a chain retail mart the other day to pick up my $100 prescription, and sitting there on the sale shelf was a toy called "Burger Time." The box of this toy shows a little boy with a fast food apron and one of those hats that's only the brim and leaves the top of your head exposed. The boy is smiling and holding a playdough hamburger (with lettuce, tomato, and special sauce) on a spatula, serving up hours of fun. It's a playdough factory for fast food.

In this time of high unemployment and obesity, I'm glad to see that toy makers are doing their part to better American society.

"Hey Kids! When you're not eating fast food, play with it!" --Toy Makers

I hope they make the apron big enough to tie in the back.

If you were a kid, and you got this toy for Christmas or your birthday, wouldn't you start to wonder if your parents really meant it when they said you could be anything you want to be?

"Let's be honest, honey. Little Jimmy isn't going to be president. The least we can do is get him started early."--Dad

Consider it early trade school. Forget Legos. It's not like the kid'll be working at an American car manufacturer. Or a toy factory. MADE IN CHINA

"This burger is doughy and tastes like, I don't know, lead." --Future Customer

I read they are considering lengthening the school year. It's about time. Kids should be getting used to what it's like in the real world. Wake up to an alarm, be at school/work before the bell, bell rings, move to another station, repeat, bell rings, go home and watch tv, go to sleep, repeat. Maybe a week's vacation would be nice. Make the school day longer too. But no overtime pay!

Kids should learn how to be cogs in the machine at an early age. It leads to less disappointment as an adult. Otherwise they'll be daydreaming at work about the days they used to waste making burgers--that they couldn't eat--with playdough. Ahh, to be young again...

What's So Funny?

2009-01-10T10:02:00.001-08:00

Lately I feel like I'm not as funny as I used to be. I don't know why, exactly. Usually the winter time is when I'm at my funniest. This is a good time to be funny. There are a lot of reasons to laugh.

I've been thinking a lot about what is and is not funny. When we're children, the very first thing we smile/laugh about is gas (so they say). This happens somewhere in the first weeks of life. It's no wonder we all have to chuckle a little at the right fart joke.

I'm interested in knowing, what do you think is funny or not funny?

New Year, New Look

2008-12-30T13:33:00.000-08:00

In order to ring in the new year, I'm getting a new look to my blog. The picture at the top of this blog is a panoramic picture I put together from the Coronado National Forest in the Chiricahua mountains. That's me meditating in the top left corner.

Another addition to the new blog look is the survey on the right side. I'll come up with a random survey every so often to find some consensus on very important issues.

These are just a couple of my new years resolutions. In addition to these, I plan to:
1) Write more.
2)Complain less.
3)Improve my time changing dirty diapers.

What are you doing for the new year?

Yackity YACK (Don't talk back)

2008-07-10T12:53:00.000-07:00

The Spring Issue of YACK, the online journal of the NEOMFA, is up and running! It features some really great writers from the program. I don't know how I slipped in there, but sure enough, "Meat-Loving Calf Eats Chickens" is there. It's a story about tolerance and self-exploration in the cattle community. It's stocked with your favorite bovine puns and a mooving message. If you don't like it, that's O.K.. You're sure to like the stuff by some of the other NEOMFAers.

Girl Power

2008-07-06T07:04:00.000-07:00

In case you haven't heard yet, my girlfriend, Brittany, is pregnant. It's going to be a....GIRL!

You can't see her parts in this picture because she is a decent girl, knew she didn't have any clothes on, and turned her back to the camera.

It has taken me a while to write about finding out about the baby, mostly because it has taken me a while to figure out how I feel about it. When I first found out there was a baby, I'll admit, I was not happy. I know this sounds like a terrible thing to say, but I think it's helpful for other unsuspecting fathers out there to know that they're not the only ones to feel unhappy at the start of a pregnancy. On the inside, I was at war with my emotions. If I committed myself to my child, like I thought I was supposed to, my reckless and transient lifestyle was over. It meant that I was getting too old to stay up all night drinking with my buddies or just pack up and drive wherever I wanted to. If I didn't commit and continued to live the way I was, I was no better than the other "dead beat dads" I used to make fun of.

All of that changed when I saw my first sonogram, the one we found out it's a girl. The experience made it real. I know it sounds cheesy, but honestly, I fell in love with her when I saw her spazing out on a hi-def computer screen. There is still a lot of stuff to work out about the whole situation, and truthfully, nothing has changed. I realized that it's been a while since I just packed up and went wherever I wanted to, and most nights I'm not up drinking with my buddies, but reading, or worse, actually sleeping. I realized that I will still have time to do the things I love, only soon I will have a little person to share them with. The great thing about babies is that the younger they are, the more they're like a miniature drunk person--babbling on, wetting themselves, puking, crying--no different than staying up all night with my buddies.

Another thing that's getting to me is the response to the baby being a GIRL. I was genuinely shocked by the archaic views a lot of people still have. "Couldn't put the stem on the apple eh?" I tend to get this kind of thing from men who have already had a baby boy, but even some women (my grandmother included) would have preferred a boy. My neighbor said, "I bet you were bummed." I usually play along and joke with guys in this ridiculous tango of testosterone. I know it only perpetuates the tradition, but this is not something I have to worry about my daughter dealing with. This is one benefit of having a girl. There are more.

When the doctor said "It's a girl" I cannot even describe the happiness that came over me. I hopped out of my seat and practically smashed my face against the computer screen. It's not that I wanted a girl, or a boy for that matter. I don't know why. I was just happy.

Truth is, there is nothing that I could want for my son to accomplish that my daughter couldn't. We were closer to having a woman as president than we have ever been. Women are doing amazing things all over the world, and the opportunities for a little girl are just as endless as that for a boy. Sure, some things might be tougher, but the same goes for a boy in certain situations. Besides, challenges build strength of character, right?

There are good and bad things to being a boy or a girl, and I'm sure they balance out somewhat. I won't go to the lengths of listing them here, because this is a long blog anyway. But one reason in particular that I am excited is that I was once runner up in the Miss Gallucci pageant during my sophomore year at UA. So I know even if she looks like me, she'll still have great legs! I'm just sayin...

Lastly, I'd like to thank all of my great friends who have been and continue to be incredibly supportive and generous. Especially thanks to Mary for her generosity and contagious enthusiasm, Eric for his help in getting my academic career on track, another Eric and his family for treating me like family, my dad for his endless, unconditional support, and my mom and her husband Tim for their understanding and willingness to help. You all have done so much to help keep me sane and excited!

Old Songs

2008-06-19T07:38:00.000-07:00

Since last weekend was Father's Day weekend, I thought I'd post an old song that my dad used to sing to me, and his dad to him. I've heard parts of this in other forms, most of the time labeled as, weird enough, "children's street songs." I think though, my dad would sing this to me when I was trying to go to sleep. It explains everything. I intend to pass this on to my child one day:

I was standing on the corner,
payin' no mind,
when along came a policeman
and drug me down the line.

He drug me down to the corner
rang a funny bell
along came a thing-a-ma-jig
and hauled me off to jail.

I woke up in the morning
and looked up at the wall
The bedbugs and the cockroaches
were playin' a game of ball.

The score was two to nothin'
the bedbugs were ahead
a cockroach hit a homerun
and knocked me out of bed.

I went downstairs to breakfast
the toast was old and stale
the coffee tastes like tobacco juice
in the Trumbull County Jail.

My Gift to the General Public

2008-05-23T10:06:00.000-07:00

In order to do my part for the environment and my health, I've begun riding my bicycle to work whenever possible. In a way, you could say I'm saving money, with gas at nearly $4.00/gallon. Of course, with my car I'm averaging close to 30mpg and making a total round trip of almost exactly 9 miles/day it would take a little more than 3 days to save about a gallon. So, if I ride my bike just 3days/week, in one month I will save at least $15.00 with which I could purchase the following:

-3 $5 footlongs
-1.5 pitchers at Arnies
-A bottle of cheap whiskey and Coke
-15 Democratic Wishbones

But then again, I could save it for the summer and have $45 with which I could purchase:

-3x everything I listed above.

Of course, I probably will find something else to do with that money, or else my creditors will (just kidding mom).

Really though, I think of riding my bike as a gift to the general public, like I'm donating the fuel I would buy to the national reserves. Since this gasoline would technically be mine, I'd like to have a say in who can and can not use it. You MAY NOT use my gasoline if:
-You drive a vehicle that holds 7+ people comfortably and you're the only one in it.
-You plan to drive to the McDonalds across the street from your house.
-You are the guy driving the UPS truck who couldn't get over just a little more and almost clipped me on my way to work today.
-You are the guy at the bike shop I went to for tires who, when I told him I got my bike for $10 at a garage sale, said, "Tell you the truth right now, we turn away more bikes from garage sales than we fix" and I said, "Look, buddy, the bike works, I just want tires," and then he tried to sell me a $50 service package where they tighten bolts and I laughed and said, "wait, you're serious?" Come on man, it's an effing bicycle, not a rocket ship. Seriously, there's a kid on my block who will do that for a Bud Light. No gas for you.
-You make fun of my biking attire.
-You yell things I cannot understand as you're driving by.

Feel free to use my gasoline if:
-You are anyone else.

So, enjoy my gift to you, general public, and keep an eye out for my fellow cyclers out there while you're driving. Think of it this way, they're doing you a favor too.

Ed Works The Graveyard Shift

2008-04-04T10:29:00.000-07:00

Fellow NEOMFAer Ed Buchanan (pictured in the middle covering his mouth in shock) authored the winning play of the 2nd annual UA Theatre Guild Playwriting contest, Graveyard Shift.

I went to the opening night presentation of the play with the expectation to see an Ed Buchanan
fiction story played out just as it looks on the page. I wasn't disappointed. From the moment I opened the program to read, "This show contains strong language and actions of a sexual nature, including nudity. Discretion is advised," to the actual point when one of the characters strips down to his birthday suit, I thought to myself, this is characteristically Ed. (Not that I think of Ed whenever I see someone strip naked)

Graveyard Shift is exactly what we've come to expect from Buchanan's fiction. It is a psychological story with strong social commentary and a fair share of Buchanan twists. The story focuses on Matt (played by Dane Leasure), a twenty-something guy having trouble connecting with anyone in his life, especially women. That is, until Matt "digs up" a relationship with Angela (Laura Bertani). What follows walks the fine line between humor and horror, laughter and gasps.

Dane Leasure, in what I understand was his first performance at UA, was a good pick for the part of Matt, as he oscillated between piteousness and maliciousness very well. Brian Tillinger, as Jon, gave a "ballsy" performance to say the least, while Laura Bertani's performance was at times convincingly dead (in a good way). Though for the most part she never faced the audience, Courtne Ann Benson, as Sara, projected enough that I was able to hear her, and get the idea of why I wasn't allowed to see her. Zita Smith, as Jessica, was also a good addition to the cast for her honest and spot on subtleties.

After the play director Brad Cain and playwright Ed Buchanan answered questions from the audience. It was like listening to the commentary on a dvd in that Cain and Buchanan discussed the evolution of the play from the beginning. To the question, "will you be writing more," Buchanan answered that he planned to.

Favorite Line of the play: Matt to Angela, "This isn't working."

Graveyard Shift will continue in the Sandefur Theatre in Gazzetta Hall:

Friday April 4th 8:00pm and 10:00pm
Saturday April 5th 8:00pm and 10:00pm

Ticket prices:
$5 for students
$8 general admission

April Showers...

2008-04-01T05:02:00.000-07:00

Well, it's April 1st and it's raining. There's no better reminder of the strange story of my childhood. That for the longest time I thought the saying, "April showers bring May flowers" was just a way for my parents to trick me into showering. That I never met somebody named May, but she must like flowers. That April showers do not only bring things that rhyme with showers, but also ants, not in my kitchen, but in my bathroom, which is where I shower, so I guess that counts.

No better reminder that, sadly, I no longer live with my mother, who loves April fools day and fooling me. So, in an attempt to recreate that, I April fooled myself. I put paper towels at the toes of my shoes to make myself feel like my feet outgrew them overnight. I rigged the sink so that it sprayed me when I turned it on. I rearranged all of the living room furniture in the middle of the night. And, the plastic wrap on the toilet, now that one got me.

Later today I plan on tricking myself into thinking I won the lottery, telling myself that there is mustard on my cheek (not there, over here, that's it, no, farther this way, over here, got it, wait, no, over here), and cutting the break lines on my car. In the end I'll realize that there's no substitute for my mom's foolery.

In other news, I saw a lot of robins this past week, so that means spring is here. There is nothing better after a long punishing winter than this bird's syrupy song waking me up hours before my alarm, and I really do mean that. Because before long it will be summer.

One Flu Over the Cookoo's Nest

2008-03-06T06:30:00.000-08:00

I wish I had more to report on the Arnold Classic, besides that my good good friend Greg McElravy lifted personal records in both the snatch and clean and jerk (which is quite the accomplishment considering he'd jumped a weight class since his last meet), but I've been sick ever since.

Imagine that Jack Russell Terrier (named Cracker Jack, Cracker for short) is the influenza virus, and that hand is my entire body.

Anyway, I'm sick and tired, literally, and now I've really got to play catch-up. Like Jason, I am ready for this snow to melt, and I'm starting to think global warming, or at least Akron warming, is a temporarily good idea.

For Sara

2008-02-25T21:50:00.000-08:00

I am only doing this because Sara double dog dared the entire web. So here it is, a 9th grade homecoming picture. I'm the guy on the right, as opposed to my date, the girl on the left. And, to tell the truth, this is by far not the worst picture of me. Especially at that stage. How about that haircut? Huh? And that suit jacket, what? Did I pull that out of my Dad's closet? Yeah, proabably. And what am I doing with my left foot? Tap dancing? Plus I've got that skinny '80's tie. I forget, but I may have even been wearing suspenders under there. There, how's that Sara?

Cleveland Car Show

2008-02-25T08:48:00.001-08:00

Yesterday I went to the Cleveland car show at the international expo center. I've been going to this thing for a few years, even though I'm not much of a car guy. I enjoy the concept cars, and really like pretending like I'm in my own garage and all of the cars are mine.

This is a picture of me in an Audi TT. Sure, it's got the same initials as me, and I think that's part of the reason why I like it. But, look at how comfortable I am in there.

I also really liked the Dodge Challenger. That's the car on the top of this blog. It's a sweet muscle car throwback. Of course, I would never want a car like that. I would only get myself into trouble. Instead, I really liked the small cars. That's more my style. The mini cooper and the new sexy Ford concept car, the Verve.

Really though, why I go to the car shows is to see how serious people can be. So, I would ask questions to the presenters, such as: (None of the following should be taken as serious, nor threatening, please. They're just jokes. If you could see the bewilderment on these people's faces, you'd understand.)

ME: This car's nice, but how's the trunk space?
PRESENTER: It's got a surprising X" by X" by X" trunk measurement.
ME: Yeah, ok, but what about bodies? How many?
PRESENTER: Excuse me?
ME: You know, if you didn't cut them up. Just sayin...

That was probably one of the best. Here's another one:
ME: Wow, this car's got a lot of storage space.
PRESENTER: Yes, we felt that a vehicle should be tailored to the needs of its owner, and this is perfect for the college student who practically lives out of thier car.
ME: Yeah. Nice. So, if I had to hide a lot of drugs, where is the last place someone might look? A cop, or customs for example.

Then we went by the other vendor's tables and checked out the bumber stickers. I don't have any bumper stickers, because I think bumper stickers should be representative of your personality, and I can never find any that I think fit. I asked for them though.

ME: Do you have any bumper stickers that say, "Give me a break, I've been drinking" ?

VENDOR: Umm. No, I don't think you'd get very far with that one.

ME: Oh, ok, how about, "Don't follow me so close, You'll trigger the sensors."

VENDOR: Can you even say that?

ME: What? They make cars with rear sensors.

VENDOR: I mean, it sounds like you're talking about explosives.

ME: That wouldn't be very politically correct.

VENDOR: That's what I mean.

The Darker Side of Elmo

2008-02-22T03:44:00.000-08:00

Trust me. When you read this, you are not going to believe it.

http://www2.tbo.com/content/2008/feb/21/toddlers-elmo-doll-makes-death-threats/

It's a story I first heard on the news this morning. A little boy, whose name is James, has an Elmo doll that, when a fresh pair of batteries were put in, said, "Kill James." That's right. The toddler then repeated what Elmo was saying and his mother was baffled.

Truth is, even Elmo can only take so much. Elmo is not normally the violent type. He's charismatic, charming, good looking, and successful, but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel the everyday pressures that come down on us all. My theory, something had to push Elmo to the extreme.

Chemical imbalance, Seasonal Affective Disorder, bullying, sociopathy, excessive tickling, all of these things could be reasons for Elmo's behavior, but I say for one, start with the parents. Fisher-Price, Elmo's parent company, has already agreed to replace this Elmo and look for problems in other Elmos. I can't imagine what it must feel like to be replaced so easily, by your parents no less, and to be constantly compared to your identical siblings.

I am not condoning Elmo's behavior, but rather encouraging understanding so that this kind of thing can be recognized earlier and dealt with before it comes to verbal violence.

Now, I realize that I have taken something allegedly innocent, like Elmo, and confused it with a very sensitive subject. I don't mean to make light of the very serious events that have taken place recently. But, I ask, what about the toddler's innocence? Sure, he probably won't remember what Elmo said about him, but what is waiting for him when he does get old enough? Will this kid remember how fun it was to tickle and someday take it too far? I don't mean that it will end in violence. I'm just sayin', what if this kid tries to tickle someone at a job interview? Someone while they're driving? The guy next to him at a urinal? Huh? What about that?

I'm just sayin'.

The Funny Thing Is,

2008-02-21T06:00:00.001-08:00

I don't even have a dog. But anyway, I accidentally shaved off my beard yesterday. Put the clippers right on it without the gaurd. Oh well.

News Story of the day: http://www.reuters.com/article/oddlyEnoughNews/idUSN2036342420080220?feedType=RSS&feedName=oddlyEnoughNews

It's about how Communist Party officials and civil servants in China aren't allowed to drink at lunchtime, but they want to. Could you imagine? What oppressive kind of state doesn't allow you to drink at lunchtime? Espcially for Communist Party officials and civil servants.

Speaking of lunch, this is my most recent experience at Quizno's:

I haven't eaten all day. A lady who's nice enough is in front of me waiting at the end of a long line. She says to her friend, "I don't know what I want. What are you getting?" The friend tells her. She looks at the menu a while longer until it's getting close to her turn and I feel a little panicy, you know for her, because she's so close and still looks like she hasn't decided. She declares to her friend that she will get the honey burbon chicken and I breathe a little easier. When she gets up to the glass, the subkid asks what she wants and, no joke, she looks back up at the menu. "Ummm, geez, I don't know."

"You said you were getting the honey burbon chicken." That's what I want to say to her. But I don't. Instead I just stand patiently behind her, with a whole line of people behind me.

So, after studying the menu for what feels like a year, and I don't know if you've seen the Quizno's menu. It tells you everything, the name of the sub, what comes on the sub, how big the sub is, how much it costs. Everything. So after studying the menu for what feels like a year, the lady says, "The tuna melt. What comes on that?"

"Are you f*cking with me?" That's what the subkid wants to say. I can tell. But he doesn't. He tells her, "Tuna, and cheese."

She thinks about these ingredients as if there were some other combination for a tuna melt she was hoping for, then says, "Nah, I don't want that."

At this point I don't know who is more infuriated, me, the subkid, or the guy behind me who keeps huffing warm breath of frustration onto my neck every ten seconds. Seriously, does personal space not matter in these situations? I mean, come on man, if I move any closer to this lady I'm going to be in front of her.

Anyway, she finally decides on the honey burbon chicken, which she started out with in the first place, but not before she asks the subkid what's on it. When he makes the sub, she considers each topping individually. When subkid asks her if she wants chips or a drink, I think I might say f*ck it and leave, but she knows she does not want them. I am relieved.

When I get home I realize the kid made my sub wrong. There is bacon on it. I said no bacon.

I eat the sub anyway and wash it down with American freedom, a lunchtime beer.

Oh Boy! Soy!

2008-01-22T04:16:00.000-08:00

I tossed a piece of my soyburger to my dog. He sniffed it, chewed it, spit it back out, and said to me, "This looks like something I would eat, but tastes like something I would pee on. So, I'm just going to roll in it." Then I had to give him a bath.