...flame this

If FOX ever televises the Olympics, I think I might do bodily harm to myself or others. With the bizarre "cultural" dancing, and the "Super Bowl halftime show meets liberal arts college" theme that was going on during the closing ceremonies, all I could keep thinking is how horrible it would be if FOX was doing the broadcast.

"And here we have an ancient Greek war dance, the traditional wardrobe dating back to 450BC, and here comes the mighty Hermes, portrayed by none other than Redman of the new FOX hit sitcom, "Method and Red", Tuesdays at 8:30 this fall on FOX. Now the entrance of the grand Trojan Horse, and out come the stars of FOX's "That 70's Show"! What a great spectacle this has become."

Don't believe me? Look at what they do to the World Series.

The rest of the ceremony that I saw was all right, though the little girl (10 going on 22) blowing out the torch was a little weak, and I had enough of Mary Carillo when she showed up for the equestrian events, but it was pretty good. Now all that's left to wonder is how long before Beijing breaks out the "And you thought we put Communism behind us for these Games. Suckers!" line. Think about it. The US bails on the 2008 Games, playing the Communism card again, then resurfaces in a boycotted 2012 Games in New York City to win 3,546 medals, McDonald's gets screwed into giving away hundreds of thousands of Big Macs, and the world is normal again.

..."Downtown" Luke McCown

Maybe my brown and orange shades got in the way when I was disappointed that the Browns took Luke McCown as their QB of the future over fellow BG alum Josh Harris (who was later drafted in the sixth round by the Third Reich, errr, Ravens), but 10 seconds late Saturday night might have changed my mind.

Of course, it also reminded me of what I miss most about the move to Indy...the Browns.

Sure, there are great people and good times left behind in Columbus, but its not that far away and the beers will still be cold. But Sunday afternoons around 4pm just won't be the same.

Even with the distance, I know there will be phone calls and emails exchanged, celebrating or commiserating another Browns game. But where does a guy turn at 10:45 on a Saturday night, a time zone away when an "I really don't know what to think of this guy" rookie heaves a game winning Hail Mary to win a preseason game? I don't think I know, either. (Fortunately, I remembered the late Saturday nights my cousin pulls and knew he'd appreciate a little late night Browns talk.)

Sadly, even if it's just preseason, this dramatic win breaks a trend for me. Maybe it was the delayed news of the win, or maybe it was being in a roomful of new co-workers, but my string, my tradition, in fact, I think it's my expected reaction, of doing a victory lap after Browns Hail Mary wins, has come to an end.

The sweetest was the first win in new Browns history, Tim Couch to Kevin Johnson against New Orleans, which was immediately followed by a quick lap around the newsroom, and included more than a couple man-hugs. The most memorable was the second (and apparently final) victory lap, Couch to Quincy Morgan to end a ridiculous comeback against Jacksonville, celebrated with a brief "holy crap we won" pause, then high fives all around the Run of the Mill Tavern bar (briefly interrupted by a run-in with a phone cord), past the shady Chinese man in the trenchcoat, and back to my beer.

Tonight, it was just a jaw-dropping look of sheer amazement. Half the guys on the field for that final play may not even be on the team by this time next week. Hell, a quarter of those may not play another down of NFL football again. But tonight they're all Brownies, and I miss the hell out of them.

(Wow, even without the man-hugs, this is a damn sappy post, about pro football, no less. I need a beer and a steak.

And for those of you wondering how a preseason win over the Chiefs can make a man all tingly, see here and here.)

...from chaos comes order

This is your brain. (Cue eggs.)
This is your brain on two weeks of pulling your life out of boxes, getting jerked around by the cable guy, moving said boxes around and emptying them some more, having a turkey sandwich or 12, deal with the cable guy again, starting a new job, working 9 out of your first 10 days there, finally getting an internet connection so you don't have to post to your poor neglected website under the cover of the back corner computer at work, and neglecting it for a couple more days after that. (Cue skinny, over-make-upped, but oh-so-hot in a dirty sort of way chick who probably couldn't scramble eggs if you put them in a blender, but looks so much hotter going to town on the kitchen appliances with a frying pan here.)

Ah. Much better.

And once again, I'd like to thank Blazing Saddles for the subject line, but you probably knew that already.

So yes, I have internet and cable at home (it was nice timing that one of the four channels I could watch had the Olympics on, and another had two damn fine Simpsons episodes on the day I could watch them, but once I realized that Univision isn't Spanish for "Cinemax", I was ready for the cable to come). Of course, it hasn't been without its hassles, but it all works, and will hopefully be touched up tomorrow so that my "installation" no longer involves a tangle of wires in the corner and splitters and cable under carpet all over the place. Oh, and the words "free October" would be nice, too. For those of you who care to see what my place looks like (which I think includes family, a couple friends, and some guy named "Ali" who's been hanging around way too much and asking too many questions), you need to come visit. That or I'll have pictures taken as soon as all the boxes are hidden and I figure out which wall gets the golf art, and which gets the day-glow body painting of adult film star Erika Eve.

Titty paintings in the dining room are a good thing, though I can see where some may consider that "tasteless". Heh. Go figure.

******

I think I've officially crossed another plateau in the "life of a blogger", by sharing with you some of the search terms that bring people to this site.

Somehow over the past 8 or so months, the phrase "Simpsons panda love" has been kind to me. While it doesn't show up on the first three pages of a Google search without the quotes, when you add them, its second, behind only a couple threads at Blogger Forum where I discuss earlier success of having "Simpsons panda love" bring people to my site.

And while I haven't had many hits lately from the greyhound insemination lovers, a simple search on "hey ya remix" has brought me at least one hit every day this week. Give my friends a lazy afternoon, an open Notepad window and a catchy mainstream rap hit, and its instant Googling success!

My favorite two of the past week, though have been "hardened liver pictures" and "donnie moore +photos". I know that neither of those exist on this site, though I do believe I've likely made more than one reference to the former Angels pitcher who offed himself for letting the Red Sox get to the World Series, and while my liver has had its more solidified moments, I don't think I've ever taken a picture of it.

******

Speaking of search results, reading an article on punctuation while blogging (via the Yawp, through Blogger), I came across the phrase "erroneous colon". It made me giggle. It still makes me giggle. It will probably make me giggle a month from now. Its just that good. Sure, they're talking about extra punctuation, but did they have to use THAT example? Probably not.

What makes it even funnier is this article about visitors to Lake Erie's favorite drunktank, Put-In-Bay, coming down with all kinds of "intestinal ailments". With a few friends heading up that way this weekend, it makes me giggle even more. Fortunately, they're well aware to avoid the water, and stick to the hard stuff. But, if they slip just once, hopefully their colons don't get all erroneous on them.

(Note: Before the "erroneous colon" quote came to be, I couldn't decide if visitors to Put-In-Bay were simply suffering from "Commodore Perry's Revenge", or "the Jet Express")

******

Finally, a sad note, as a former history professor of mine, Dr. Stuart Givens, died last week. They say he was 80, I thought he was at least 110 when I had him my senior year at BG. That man really knew his business, that's for sure. Thanks to his "Personalities of the 20th Century" class, I'll always remember that Margaret Sanger founded Planned Parenthood (for reasons I probably shouldn't discuss here, some of you may be eating). On nice days, Stu would ride his old school 3-speed bike a few miles into campus to give his lectures, then ride off afterwards. Not to get all sappy my first day back, but he was a really nice guy and a great prof. (Oh, and I got an "A" in that class.)

...birds of a feather

Tom seems to think I'd be concerned with my alma mater creating a job for the president's wife, about $65K to show up with Ol' Sid at public events. Not that it would ever happen, I hope, pray and beg, but the day they trot her out to a press conference where Dr. Ribeau announces he's been manhandling the new Dean of the College of Arts & Sciences, and is taking him on the first train to Massachusetts to consummate the whole thing and live forever in dude on dude bliss, I say its worth every last thousand they pay her. Then again, freaky shit like that doesn't happen to normal people, only those from New Jersey.

What concerns me more about the state of Bowling Green is their new athletic logo. There is, was and never will be anything wrong with the standard "falcon head" design that's been around as long as I can remember, if not longer, but, in an effort to squeeze more juice out of the athletic marketing turnip, they come up with a new logo, that, while it will likely grow on me over time, makes me feel like BG is being represented by Harvey Birdman, Attorney at Law. (Looking back at Harvey, maybe the resemblance isn't quite as strong as I thought, but its too late to stop now. And while I'm talking up Harvey, try this out. Pretty mindless, and I have no clue what the actual game is about, but go through the tutorial, it has a great ending!)

EDIT: The Birdman game was less than thrilling, in fact, its probably most enjoyed by hardcore techies that like men's gymnastics. But I wholeheartedly stand by the kickassness of the demo.

...they have the internet on computers now!

Okay, so I'm moved and somewhat-officially a "Hoosier" now. Through three days, I like the closeness of Columbus much better, but from the last 6 or so years of "test drives", I know that Indy has alot to offer, too.

Anyway, while I still toe the line of "what might be work acceptable computer behavior and what will have me working at Wal-Mart next week", and as I wait for the fine folks at Comcast to realize that a two week waiting period before STARTING a new customer off isn't exactly a great policy to have, I had to sneak a few thoughts in here while I had the chance.

-One thing that hasn't changed in this whirlwind of activity is that Jim Norton is a sick, sick man. I mean really sick. Like if a diabetic kid with hepatitis and a touch of polio started jabbing himself with needles from the alley behind a Chinese massage parlor in Newark, NJ kind of sick.

-If Jamal Lewis is running away from defenses instead of running away from a cellmate with a gleam in his eye and a box of latex gloves, there's something wrong with the system. Ricky Williams had to bolt for China because he smoked a little reefer, Lewis is auditioning for the Colombian National Team, and "expects this to not affect his season".

-Kellen Winslow II is already running his mouth. Hopefully it does something to fire the team up (and to more than 4 or 5 wins this year). But even more hopefully, I hope they don't mistake his comments to mean they should take a week and a half off to bitch about their contracts.

-If a completely straight guy happens to watch more than 5 straight minutes of men's gymnastics with the sole hope of watching someone faceplant off the high bar, does that make him gay? Not that I was watching men's gymnastics or anything. That would make me gay.

I guess that wasn't all that quick after all, but here's to hoping the USA men's hoops team rebounds from its win over Greece to embarrass themselves the next time out, and that a few phone calls to Comcast will get me back in the mix again soon!

...like a chicken caught in a tractor's nuts

Lesson 1 today: When struggling to find a title line for a post, pop in Blazing Saddles, and the first thing that comes up, go with it. I hate to think of a chicken or a tractor's nuts, but it works. And I guess in a way, that's how I feel. I'm just about to the point where I'm done packing, but yet have so much left to do. And I hope I'm making the right move with the size rental truck I'm taking with me. It seems like 15 feet might be a bit small for a fairly well-stocked 1 bedroom (plus "den"), but if the people at Budget say its good for 2-3 bedrooms, so be it. I wonder if they'd help move everything that doesn't fit after the fact? Regardless, today was a sad day. I took the "Dogs Playing Poker" picture off my wall. Sure, it will have a nice home in Indianapolis soon, but that wall above the TV is just a bit empty without it. Speaking of the TV, it's holding on for dear life, but by tomorrow night, it will likely be ready to go as well.

Which brings me to the next travesty. I move into my place in Indy on the 14th. Cable is installed on the 24th. I better hope I have a really good antenna on that thing, or else I'll get horribly used to watching one of the best small DVD collections on the planet, while playing whatever games I can drag up on my computer. Speaking of, the blogging here might be ridiculously sparse in the coming weeks, if I have to toe the delicate line of "should I blog at work" and "I can't blog at home because Comcast doesn't give enough of a shit about its new customers to connect them within a week, tops". At least I get to pay them almost an extra month's bill to install it all.

Travesty 3: While I knew when I took on Tom's allegedly broken PS2 when he moved to the great state of Michigan that it might need replaced, repaired, or used as a bookend, I had it working. It got me through a NASCAR Rumble series, a few rounds of golf, and, most recently the first season as head coach of the Browns on ESPN NFL 2K5 (a damn fine game in its own right, and a great alternative to "Madden 2005" for those of you looking to save $30.) Last night, it died. Clicking and clacking and humming and buzzing, and it don't work no mo'. A few shots to the top did little good, and as of this morning, season two is in limbo. If not for an astronomical cable bill coming up, a moving van that I'll be reimbursed for eventually, and all the other fun costs that come with moving, picking up a cheap, used PS2 likely wouldn't be a problem. But that ain't happening, and I'll certainly not be dropping $150 plus tax on a new one anytime soon. So, say a little prayer for me that Tom's old PS2 will wake up and play nice. At least until the Browns win the Super Bowl.

Of course, I still can't decide if its an omen or a pisser that I can't keep playing, since I really should be packing, scrubbing, cleaning and wiping down this place, but I was starting to get pretty good, and who knows how first round draft pick "Oscar Padilla" will do in his first year as the Browns QB. Of course, the whole time I'm playing, I keep thinking that its like the time I had pneumonia in first grade and wasn't supposed to participate in gym class. Well, they were a person short of even teams for kickball, the androgynous gym teacher asked me if I could play, and like any red-blooded American boy of 7 or 8, I said yes. When my mom came to pick me up for my doctor's appointment, all sweaty and red-faced, berating me for not listening to doctor's orders not to play, my only reply, of course was, "But mom! I was 3 for 4 with a grand slam and almost turned a triple play!!!" That's how I felt this past week before the PS2 crapped out. Sure, I should have been packed and ready to go, but the Browns were in the playoff race, and they needed me!!!

...and the bottle makes 17 tonight

After two and a half "going away" parties in 4 days, the departure from Columbus is going surprisingly well. Of course, it has come with its obstacles, such as the half-party Friday night, which consisted of a call a little after midnight, just when I had resigned myself to a night of sleep, and in return handed me a couple of shots and a couple of pints in a little more than an hour. Fortunately the folks came down and gave a big hand with the packing/moving thing (including donuts and pizza), because I don't think my head was going to let me out of bed before 2, much less to carry boxes around.

Saturday night was the "official" event, and the turnout was solid. It was kind of a study in a theory I have, which is that the only way to find out your true friends are the ones that show up to your funeral. And since I'm in no way, shape or form ready for a funeral, a going away party is a pretty good option. A going away party where you tell only those that you want to show up is even better.

For awhile, it seemed like the line "hey, lets do a shot", was going to turn into "hey, lets see how much Jack we can do before we need a mop or a couple lobotomies". Fortunately, the Jack stopped at one shot, and the other shots were pretty harmless, though effective. And despite plenty of discussion, there were no napkin games involved.

Two days later, after a nice round of golf, we head back out for more beers, and evenutally an Irish Car Bomb and a shot of water (nice joke, you should try it sometime!)

A less than attractive round of golf, a trip to the car dealership for some recall work, and a bit more packing later, and here I am. And anyone that has ever taken a remedial journalism class has to realize that I just threw down the mother of inverted pyramids. All kinds of news and promise off the top, some creativity and fun, then it fizzles like a dead sparkler. And for that I apologize.

Though I will have to point out, while trying to cut politics out of this site altogether (at least for awhile, I suppose, until I can find a screen capture of Richard Pryor in Brewster's Millions, with the "None of the Above" campaign in full effect), I *did* get some props at Wizbang this week.

Regardless of political opinions or affiliations, a hellified wit is a terrible thing to waste.

...that's it... I'm outta here!

Another day, another job quit.

Okay, so this is only the third time I've really quit a job. Not counting summer work, or high school jobs or whatever. But I'm done working at another TV station, ready to work at another in a little more than a week. Well, "ready" in the sense that I want to get in there and hopefully be as comfortable there as I was at my current (or is that "old") station, but I'm damn glad to have a week off to finish all this packing and moving and getting ready to miss Columbus.

It's all actually going pretty well. Utilities cancelled, utilities ordered, addresses changed, moving truck apparently secured, and it all surrounded probably the second most surreal moment of my life.

According to U-Haul's website, they've got a rental location about 5 blocks from me. Well, let it be the first sign that if you circle the block in the general area of an address 3 times, pull into a parking lot and still don't see any U-Hauls, you should probably bail. And quick.

It started as I got out of the car, hearing a loud noise from above, I look up and see a plane flying VERY low. The airport is maybe 10-15 miles away, and planes NEVER fly as low as this one. Hell, they barely fly this low over the golf course that's across the street from the runway! So I look again, and its Air Force FREAKING One! Pretty cool to see something that random. Well anyway, there are three guys in the corner of the lot looking up at it, talking, but I can't hear them. I walk up to ask about the U-Hauls, and they all respond in a very thick Middle Eastern accent that they don't have them, but I should check in the office. The office looks like its missing its chicken wire door, and that some sort of barnyard animal and a man with 8 of 32 teeth should greet me at any moment. Not quite, but there was a rusty goldfish tank, a small child, and a strange-ish older man in the corner reading some paperwork while the woman behind the horribly disorganized desk talked on the phone. Realizing there's no way in hell they have U-Hauls there, I get ready to bail, but she gives me the "just a second" motion, and I figure it would be rude to bail. So, as I wait, I check out the wall decorations. First thing I notice is an 8 x 10 signed picture of '70s roller disco group "Rose Royce", authors of one of the greatest funk/soul/disco/r&b type songs of all time "Car Wash". There were two other old r&b or soul bands above them, next to a framed and autographed poster of Arnold Schwarznegger. Then the finishing touch. Above two not-so-memorable band pictures (also autographed) is a signed black and white picture of Jenna Jameson. Let me tell you, this place just SCREAMED class.

This is partly why I now have a Budget rental truck reserved for me. U-Haul, despite the scenic and patriotic pictures on the sides of their trucks, now officially scares me. To death.

...apparently Parker Lewis CAN lose...

Right about the time I started to doubt my knowledge of "turn of the 90's" television, I realized that it all results from some false knowledge gained during "Parker Lewis Can't Lose". Either IMDB.com really jacked this one up, or that show single-handedly has led to a horrifying chain reaction of mislabeled actors and actresses.

While I bow to Pete's knowledge of Abraham Benrubi, and while his role as Kubiak in "Parker Lewis" was something to behold, he apparently never even set foot on the "Doogie Howser, MD" set. IMDB doesn't even identify who that orderly was. I guess it will remain a mystery. (At least until I find the exact moment I'm bored out of my mind enough to Google it. I work next this Wednesday, look for it then.)

And while I *was* proud to recognize Corin Nemec's name somewhere as being Parker Lewis himself, I've found out that Jessica Walter, who played President Garcia-Thompson in PCU, and is currently starring on FOX's "Arrested Development" is apparently no relation to Melanie Chartoff, Principal Musso on "Parker Lewis Can't Lose".

I guess if this is the only thing that really racks my brain, I'll be all right. But until its ALL cleared up, I just don't know if I can sleep soundly. Has my good friend IMDB betrayed me? Only time will tell.