I love my new TV. I still love it even though I had to send it in for repairs recently. It's one of the more expensive pieces of property I own in my home. It requires tender loving care and no small amount of respect. Because Lord knows, she returns that show of love and respect in kind with hours of sweet delicious high-definition goodness.
But I am beginning to fear that I may be losing perspective. Last night I was sitting in my living room basking in her warm glow when my wife came over and sat down next to me.
It's been too long since my last post. Unfortuantely 2009 doesn't look like its going to be any easier than 2008. I am jam packed at work this week, although I'd prefer to be jam packed than layed off I suppose... Still, with two trips out of town, portfolio review, annual POAs, department staff retreat, and my city campaign launch event all in January, I'm about to pull my hair out. And now I just learn that I'm expected to run a F-ing workshop at the staff retreat! I'm about to go insane. Happy New Year!
I love my new Liquid Crystal Display High Definition Television. But as luck would have it, the LCD broke within the first two months of having it. No problem. It's not only under the 4 year Best Buy Warranty. It's still under the 1 year manufacture warranty. So I called Sony. It was a terrible experiance. I was so mad I hung up on the girl - and just called Best Buy. They were great. About a month later I got a letter from the Sony Customer Support VP. It was a generic letter asking me to rate their service and to email him if I couldn't give a score above 9 or 10 out of 10. This is my email for your reading pleasure...
Dear Mr. VP,
Thank you for the valued customer letter. We have been very happy with our Sony TV product and were very disappointed when the LCD screen went out only two months into the ownership of the television. My only serious complaint is with your telephone customer service. When I called the service line - the lady who took my call was unimaginably incompetent.
I understand that technical support troubleshooting requires your employees to run through the various standard scenarios in order to rule out all kinds of common problems with the television. But I made it very clear at the onset of the phone call that I had already ruled out all the common issues.
Yes - the TV was plugged in. Yes - I checked all inputs for functionality Yes - I unplugged and re-plugged in the television Oh and by the way - the TV doesn't turn on in the same way as usual. The "Bravia" symbol no longer appears. Instead there is a slow bleed of black screen into white screen with no picture, sound, or access to the menu features. I think something is wrong with the LCD.
I told your customer service rep this in excruciating detail within the first 5 minutes of our conversation. Over the course of the next 1.5 hours she continued to ask me the "standard" by-the-book questions. Questions that I had already preemptively answered for her. This alone was not worthy of my frustration but every time I answered her questions or asked a question of her - she would pause and say "Please hold while I check my resources." I would then wait for approximately 5 minutes EACH time. This happened probably 8 times over the course of the conversation. A few times I spoke into the phone "Hello? Hello?" (wondering if I was on hold or if she was still on the line). Half the time she was still on the line and would respond. Which makes me wonder why she wasn't checking in more frequently with me? I assumed by "checking her resources" she meant going down her computer check-list. I mean - how long does it take to figure out that your next question to ask the customer is "Have you un-plugged and re-plugged in your television?"
By this time I was really becoming impatient. I then just assumed she was a trainee - new on the job. So I asked to speak to a supervisor. She asked me to please hold. This time the wait was a solid 5 minutes or more. When she came back on the line there was NO SUPERVISOR. She asked me to conduct another trouble shooting technique. I told her I didn't wish to speak to her anymore and again asked for a supervisor. She went away for another 5 minutes before coming back again. And AGAIN - NO SUPERVISOR. Only this time she offered to ship a brand new television to me, no questions asked! I said, "NO! I want to speak to a SUPERVISOR!" She put me on hold again for another 5 minutes! When she came back she again offered me a new TV. I said, "No - I don't want to talk to you anymore. I want to talk to your SUPERVISOR."
By this time, my wife had checked our receipt and reminded me that we had purchased a special 4 year warranty with Best Buy. My wife had already used her cell-phone to arrange a Geek-Squad appointment for me later that night.
When your customer service representative returned to the line with (AGAIN) NO SUPERVISOR. I told her, "You're lucky, tonight madam. You're lucky I'm tired of waiting. I wanted to talk to a supervisor to tell him that you are either incredibly inept, or your training is incredibly inept. I wanted to tell your supervisor that this is the WORST customer support call I have ever experienced. But I am tired of waiting and I am ready to deal directly with Best Buy. Thank God I purchased a 4 year extended warranty otherwise I would be at the mercy of you and your inept ways!
Unfortunately I did not get her name. I did not get her employee number. So I am sorry that this email cannot help you any more than to share with you my very terrible personal experience . If I wasn't so incredibly angry by this point, I probably would have thought to ask her name and employee number. But based on the experience, I suspect she would have refused to give it to me.
I hope this email can serve some positive purpose. I pray that if I ever am forced to deal with your customer service line again, that such problems with your staff will be resolved.
I decided to read Frank Herbert's science fiction classic: Dune. It didn't take long but I eventually crossed the critical 100 page threshold which commits me unequivocally. I was able to overcome the fact that Herbert didn't write his story in chapters. Did you know Dune is written as 400+ page running stream of consciousness with the occasional page break marked by bizarre mystical quotes from a character you don't see until the last ten pages of the book? I didn't. But I did something with Dune that I have never done before with any other book.
I skimmed paragraphs!
You may think this to be no big deal, but you have to understand how monumental this is. I've never skimmed anything. Not even text books in school. I just can't absorb books that way. I never have. If I'm going to get from beginning to end and understand the full story, I read every word. Word for Word... the entire thing. Otherwise I find myself skipping over critical bits of plot, or subtle nuances of character development.
But with Dune I finally realized (about 200 pages in) that Frank Herbert is one messed up dude. The man did (without question) a shit-load of pot. And occasionally this would manifest in bizarre meandering paragraphs where characters examine their navel's for undetermined periods of time. After the tenth time a character started babbling about some random cosmic connection to the universe I figured out that ultimately it didn't propel the story forward. I just needed to know that they were trippin'... nothing more.
Perhaps I'm not getting my point across. Here's an excerpt from the story.
"Whirling silence settled around Jessica. Every fiber of her body accepted the fact that something profound had happened to it. She felt that she was a conscious mote, smaller than any subatomic particle, yet capable of motion and of sensing her surroundings. Like an abrupt revelation - the curtains whipped away - she realized she had become aware of a psychokinesthetic extension of herself. She was the mote yet not the mote."
What the hell is that? That's the kind of shit I'm talking about. Other than these bizarre acid trips I enjoyed Dune. It is a fantastically creative story with compelling character drama wrapped up in a gritty science fiction shell with shades of religious underpinnings. If you enjoy epic science fiction and you are interested in a story that has spawned thousands of other writers, read Dune.
Critics have said he was clumsy with narrative and lazy with dialogue but no one can deny the power of Michael Crichton's ideas. From The Andromeda Strain to Jurassic Park Crichton's work has astounded and amazed, selling record numbers of copies and spawning one blockbuster movie after another. It seams nothing was out of reach for this creative spirit as he even touched gold on television with the current longest running nighttime drama in ER.
Sadly - like his award winning TV show (now in it's final season), all good things must come to an end. With America gripped by its most powerful election, Michael Crichton's death was a footnote on November 4th, 2008. He was 66 when a private battle of cancer took his life.
As one of the most successful science fiction writers of his time, Michael Crichton sold more than 150 million copies of his books. His page-turning stories attracted a broad spectrum or readers and was a major contributor in making science fiction a mainstream genre of entertainment. His stories often centered around technology catapulting man's greed and power into a high-stakes adventure with the fate of mankind in the balance.
I know I enjoyed reading his books, watching the movie adaptations, and being inspired by his ideas.
God Bless America. I usually don't let my emotions get the better of me, but last night I found myself saying God Bless America without even realizing it. I was overcome really... overcome with excitement, overcome with emotion, overcome with pride in our great country. Pride in my country has been in short supply lately, but I am so proud of what we as a people can do when we all work towards a common goal.
To know that our future looks a little bit brighter and that I did my part in helping to ensure that future, fills me with indescribable pride. As I look back on my life, I know that I will remember the night that the United States of America elected its first African American president. I know that it will stand up with only a handful of other history changing moments like the fall of the Berlin Wall. Only this time I can say that I had a hand in realizing this moment.
It is times such as these when you look back at the vision of our founding fathers and you realize that even they could not predict the greatness this country is capable of achieving. This truly is the greatest country in the world and it's time we put back the intelligence, respect, and empowerment that the office of President demands.
Last night all men were created equal at the highest level. God Bless America.
I'm making it official. I wasn't sure at first. Admittedly, I didn't think it would be fair to the candidates but with these tough economic times I have to think of my family first. That's why I am announcing to the media today that I will make my "lucky charm" services available to the highest bidder between John McCain or Barack Obama.
"What is this nonsense?" You may ask yourself. Please accept these facts as proof of my value.
Fall 1992: While attending college in Texas, maintained Arkansas residency and voted with absentee ballot. Result - Victory for Governor Bill Clinton
Fall 1996: After graduating from college returned to Arkansas to start working full time for small private college. Voted as resident of Arkansas. Result - Victory for President Bill Clinton.
Fall 2000: Having taken new job in 1997 and moved to Texas, voted as a resident of Texas. Result - Victory for Governor George W. Bush.
Fall 2004: Remained in Texas and voted again as a resident of Texas. Result - Victory for President George W. Bush.
I think I make a pretty good case for being the luckiest charm any Presidential hopeful can acquire. Let's start the bidding at $500,000. Winner pays for my moving expenses to either Arizona or Illinois.
I don't know why I care so much this time around. It's not like the Democrats have a chance of taking the 34 electoral votes in Texas. And yet I find myself drawn to the Presidential election now more than ever. Perhaps eight years and two Presidential elections with a man you know to be the wrong person for the job is enough to get anyone interested. But do you know that despite Barack Obama's current comfortable lead in the national polls I find myself still worried?
For years now the Republican Party has been so adept at tapping into the visceral psyche of the American people - coining terms such as "pro-life" and "liberal-commie". It is a vocabulary that appealed to two very large segments of U.S. citizens: Religious fundamentalists and Down-Home-Country-Patriots... to put it kindly. The Republican doctrine spread through the mid-west and deep south like a teenage frenzy at a Jonas Brothers concert. But why? I can understand why the lifestyles of the rich and famous gravitate toward Republican politics. It's in their best interest. In that sense I don't blame them one bit. But why would any middle and lower income families cast their lot in with a party that cares nothing for their well being? I have come to the distinct realization that unfortunately we cannot all be rocket scientists and the Republicans shrewdly capitalized on the common thread that ran between their two newly harvested demographics: A lack of intellect.
I have to admit that up until this race I was a fan of McCain. He has traditionally been a politician who (in his own words) "reaches across the isle" in the face of his own party's agenda. But like any poster-boy for the Republican party, temptation got the better of him. Most notably with his pick of Sarah The Barracuda Palin.
This woman is no more fit to be Vice-President than I am fit to be America's Next Top Model. Once again the GOP insults our intelligence by waltzing out what basically amounts to George W. Bush in heels as the Veep nominee. A candidate that doesn't even understand what the "Bush Doctrine" means. A candidate that is unable to provide a single Judicial ruling other than Roe vs. Wade. A candidate that is currently under investigation for abuse of power in her position as Governor of Alaska. But don't worry, America! She looks great with her hair all done up! Ironically, the move that sickened me the most may well be McCain's undoing - as he gave Palin just enough rope to hang herself in front of Charlie Gibson and Katie Couric.
And yet I find myself still worrying that our country's witless will once again prevail, despite all conceivable evidence to the contrary. To this day the Democrats have yet to find an answer to the Big-Mac-Sound-Byte-Newspaper-Headline style propaganda that embodies the Republican platform. This lack of a good come-back is in part due to the complexity of political problems in our society and the difficulty it takes to defend your beliefs when you are on the ropes. This is the position the Democrats have been in for the last 20 years. Sure we had those eight glorious years with a gifted statesmen and philanderer. But he's the exception that proves the rule, isn't he? It has taken an economic crisis of gargantuan proportions and a foreign policy that has made us the laughing stock of the rest of the world for our country to be snapped out if its malaise.
Now it looks as if victory is in sight. But as any blind monkey could predict, it is always darkest before the dawn. The latest coverage of the Republican rallies have been sickening. The McCain-Palin ticket have been playing to their base, which now resembles something between a monster truck rally and a white supremacist convention with spectators screaming for Obama's head, calling him a liar, a Muslim, and a dangerous terrorist. But I learned of the most shocking turn of events on the radio this morning. Apparently McCain was recently "boo-ed" at one of his own rallies. The man who I had respected up until recently finally allowed his ethical standards to get the better of him. As I understand it, he stopped a women from calling Senator Obama a Muslim and terrorist. He corrected her, calling him a family man whom McCain respects. They just differ in their political beliefs. And for this, the right-wing-base of the GOP boo-ed and jeered their candidate for President.
For me it is both a high point and low point in this race. A high point because McCain demonstrated he has the ability to stand up for truth and fairness even in the face of an angry mob. A low point because it saddens me that the convictions of these angry mobs have been allowed to pass as good-old-fashioned-American-patriotism.
And so I wait with eager anticipation, to proudly cast my vote in Texas for Barak Obama, knowing full well that my electoral voters will be giving their votes to McCain on election day. But I do it out of principle. I do it because at the end of the day, it is our single most important right. I do it in support of all those battleground states whose voters will turn the tide of American history.
The Cyber Clan was sitting around the dinner table last night and I asked my 4 year old son what he did at school the other day. The following conversation ensued.
Lil' Magnum: I made animal noises at a girl today, Daddy.
Me: What did you do?
Lil' Magnum: Growl, Squawk, Neigh, Quack! Like that.
Me: What's her name?
Lil' Magnum: I don't know her name. She has a pink bow on her head.
Me: Is she in your class?
Lil' Magnum: No, I saw her in the lunch room.
Me: Is she pretty?
Lil' Magnum: No! (he says in a defensive tone)
Me: You should introduce yourself.
Lil' Magnum: What!?!
Me: Yes - Next time you see her just go up and say, "Hello, my name is Lil' Magnum. What's your name?"
Lil' Magnum: Baaah!! I can't do that!
Me: Why not?
Lil' Magnum: She thinks I'm a monster. She runs away.
Me: That's because you're not talking to her. Try talking instead of making animal noises.
Lil' Magnum: Nah...
Me: Oh... I see. So what do you plan to do the next time you see her?
(My son sits and ponders his options for a few seconds before responding)
Lil' Magnum: I'll show her my trick (He then stands up on his chair and sucks his belly in so deep that you can count each of his ribs individually)
It was a tale for the ages - The #1 ranked Trojans against the unranked Beavers. Most wouldn't have given those frisky beavers a chance against the mighty power of the Trojan warriors but this is a rivalry that goes back a long time. And like many rivalry games - the statistics get thrown out the window and all bets are off because anything goes!
Yes, the Trojans are a high flying potent offense. They relish penetrating every defensive unit it comes in contact with. This team keeps its eye on the prize and is always looking for the end zone. They score points and lots of them. It would be easy for me to go along with the crowd and predict a victory for the Trojans.
But I also know that the Beaver defense is a tough nut to crack. They are stingy with yardage and teams have to work for every inch of ground they gain. They are merciless in the red zone and will block your attempt to score every time. And while they can play a tough ball game, they also have the talent on their squad to play a coy cat and mouse game, disguising their intentions and then sacking the ball-caller with a trick play.
A classic battle between two titans for the ages. It was a game that could have gone either way. But I had my suspicions that the Beavers will pull it out in the end. I know I preferred the Beavers over the Trojans. How about you?
I wish someone had bothered to ask me about the effects of the Hannah Storm on our eastern coast. Everyone said she was going to be disastrous. They said she would be relentless in her pursuit of destruction. They said she would terrorize the coast and devastate livestock and real estate. They said she was a unforgiving mistress of death and to beware her raw power.
As far as I know Hannah Storm is a perfectly respectable news caster with great camera presence, solid sports knowledge, and impeccable teeth. In the end Ms. Storm's trip up the eastern sea-board did very little to harm any one or any thing and I suspect she won over a few hearts and minds in the process.
I'm a democrat - always have been. I find the narrow minded social elitism of the republican party to be almost vomit inducing. For years republicans have painted democrats as communists always shrewdly avoiding the fact that republicans are far closer to fascists than dems are to commies. I never thought I would ever vote for a republican... until now.
The recent announcement of McCain choosing Palin as his running mate has caused me to call into question everything about politics. To be honest, I believe it is a genius move. I have had a tremendous amount of respect for Palin's work for many years. I cannot think of a more talented and funnier candidate for office and I feel now is the time to make the switch.
To be honest I don't really understand Michael Palin's qualifications for the position of Vice President of the United States - but you can't argue with a man that invented the genius of "I'm a Lumberjack."
Reading stories about other people's dreams can be worse than root canal but I'm going to share this nugget with you anyway. Let's begin:
Last night I had the weirdest dream. I was walking down the street with purpose - as if I knew where I was going. I turned and headed into a large steel building. You know... like the kind they use for auto-body shops, children's bounce houses, and fundamentalist churches.
Inside it was air-conditioned and carpeted with rows and rows of fold out chairs. Up front there were two men (also seated in fold out chairs) reading from a Popular Mechanics Magazine to a packed audience. I found a seat in the back next to Dagromm and The Illustrious Q. I noticed that Q was talking to Dagromm in an overly loud voice - which made Dags a little uncomfortable because the two presenters were noticeably annoyed by the interruption.
Then, as if overcome by raw emotion, Q stands up and belts out the opening verse to Bruce Springsteen's Born in the USA.
Born down in a dead man's town The first kick I took was when I hit the ground You end up like a dog that's been beat too much 'Til you spend half your life just covering up
He then stops and looks right at me, giving me the "come on dude, I need you on this" look with his eyes. And for some reason I respond reluctantly with the line...
Born in the U.S.A.
The Q responds in kind screaming the remainder of the chorus...
Born in the U.S.A. Born in the U.S.A.
He drops it down a notch but continues with great enthusiasm into the second verse...
I got in a little hometown jam And so they put a rifle in my hands Sent me off to Vietnam To go and kill the yellow man
Only this time several people from the audience stand up and join him in the chorus! By the third verse Q has the entire audience on their feet. Everyone is belting out the chorus and I can swear I hear back-up music coming from somewhere. I too find that I am drawn to Q's raw power and I join the group. I notice even Dagromm is up on his feet and clapping his hands like a love-struck fan - singing every word.
This is when it gets weird. By this time, the two leaders of the Popular Mechanics Magazine Read-along have stepped aside. Q prances around in front of the crowd before turning around and ripping off his jacket to reveal a bright read jumpsuit with writing on the back. It says:
Dear Q: As a loyal fan of Texas A&M, I am sending you this jump-suit so that it can be properly baptised. Your friend, Tom Brokaw.
Q then runs and leaps into a giant tank of water at the front of the room. He bounces up and down in the chest high pool as the jump suit fills with water. Soon the jump-suit is near to bursting and Q looks like the girl from Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory who ate the blueberry gum. Dagromm and I are forced to go into the tank and retrieve Q, rolling him onto the carpet and down the isle. The crowd continues to chant...
Born in the U.S.A.
...and Q chants right along with them.
As Dagromm and I open the door to the outside, the bright light of the sun hits our face and I awake - baffled by my dream.
We all knew the day would come. The day that Gyuss decided a disease-infested-over-flooded-mile-wide river that flows from Minnesota to Louisiana would rip him from the annual gaming weekend that has come to be known as Quad-Fest! Luckily our "quad" was still intact with a REAL out-of-town bad ass! That's right... Pokiman rolled into town for a one night only extravaganza of gaming delight. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I should back up to Friday.
Friday was a day for the dynamic duo. And that day was filled with an abundance of margaritas. Margaritas, senoritas, and Golf! Top Golf to be precise. This year instead of a rousing game of Ultimate Frisbee we decided to play 5 rounds of the game of kings! Oh that's chess? Well then I guess it was the game of drunken Scotsman. Because Dagromm, and I decided to try out Top Golf. Essentially it is a two-story driving range with gigantic electronic targets all over the range. You sink up your bucket of micro-chipped golf balls with an account you open at the range. Then every time you hit one of your balls onto the range and hit one of the targets you get points for accuracy and distance. Points! That's right... points! It turns driving range practice into a game. A game where you don't have to haul your ass all over God's green earth. A game where all you have to do is sit at your table and order drinks from the beer girl that strolls by. Needless to say I won 4 out of 5 rounds and the whole day was awesome.
We then met up with Pokiman on Saturday morning for 15 hours of non-stop hot gaming action. We decided to break away from the monotony of Dagromm's house and move venues. Actually the fact that Dagromm is re carpeting his entire estate was the reason why we had to move venues. That and his wife no longer allows friends to come over after Dagromm showed up one night with a gang of Hells Angels he met at the bar in his local Bennigans. They said they needed a place to "lay low" for a night or two. Need I say more? It just so happened that my new office building has an entire floor that is one gi-mungus conference room with kitchenette. So we crashed my office and spread out our gear all over the room. We declared nuclear war, we slaughtered orcs and goblins in a dark underworld, we raced sports cars across the French countryside, we wagered on mythical titans in gladiatorial combat, and we ate ham and cheese sandwiches all day long. Glorious was every minute. I also believe that I won 4 out of 5 rounds on this day as well. But that was to be expected.
Based on some of the more recent comments from Gyuss, I could tell there was a great deal of sexual tension in the air. So I just wanted to be on the safe side and make sure that everyone out there in Blog Country was aware of this very serious national issue.
The air was filled with an electric energy just before the fateful reunion took place. Tens of thousands had gathered from across the world to witness what would surely be a momentous event. As the crowd began to swell and the media swirled in circles a host of angles sprang forth from the heavens and shined their blessed light down onto the earth. For MRT and CyberD finally reunited after a decade apart. They reached out and grasped hands and the crowd roared with celebration. Camera bulbs flashed and a symphony orchestra spontaneously erupted with Beethoven's Ode to Joy. The two titans of mankind stood for a moment amidst the throngs of mortals before sitting before a bountiful feast.
Much was said between these two warriors of old but even more was communicated. They regaled each other with tales of wonder that defined a decade long journey of exploration and adventure. No topic was off limits with these two stalwart titans as politics, religion, and Indiana Jones were discussed at great length. Then when all the food had been eaten and the wine and been drunk the two icons of time stood up from their feast and agreed that such a reunion would become a regular part of their heroic rituals. Finally, after an exchange of business cards and emails they parted ways with thoughts of the next reunion in their mind's eye.
I took the DART (or Dallas Area Rapid Transit) into work today. I rarely do this but I'm turning over a new fiscal leaf and that means cutting gas expense for the month. Every time I ride the DART, I always grab a free copy of this city newsletter called Quick. Anyway... I stumbled across this article in it by a gentleman known as Alibaster K. Abthernabther. I cannot describe the genius of this author. You really must read it for yourself. In fact, as it turns out - this quasi-fictional-man-about-town has his own blog. Feel free to visit it frequently. I know I will. Sadly, I could not find his article from Quick on the blog so I am re-posting it here for posterity.
Dear Gary Coleman,
Good day to you, good sir. My name is Alibaster K. Abthernabther. I am a best selling author, champion yacht racer, hot-air balloon enthusiast and fellow recreational adventurer.
Welcome to our fair city! I could not help but notice the local news reports declaring that you had been spotted near and around our Deep Ellum entertainment district, filming a motion picture wherein you apparently wrestle a gentleman dressed in a taco costume.
That is to say the gentleman you were wrestling was wearing a taco suit; not you, Gary Coleman. Perhaps you were both dressed as tacos? Really, I'm not too clear on who was dressed as what, though I am quite sure that at least one of you was in a taco disguise. Nevertheless! Do you think for one moment that I have forgotten about the Ancient Golden Monkey Femur of Khali-Ahhh? Well, rethink that, my friend. Your goons may have knocked me out and tried to erase my memory with 100 CCs of hydromydrophenelin, which may have worked on a lesser man. But I am constructed of mightier stuffs!
I remember it as clearly as if it were yesterday. Actually, I don't quite remember yesterday particularly well. I think I was doing whip-its behind a Dumpster yesterday. That's a "maybe," though.
However, last week I remember quite vividly. So I remember the events of Nov. 8, 1942, as vividly, if not more so. U.S. and British forces had just landed in French North Africa. It was mere coincidence that you and I would meet there, searching for the same prize.
The legend of the Ancient Golden Monkey Femur of Khali-Ahhh needs not be retold. It is as infamous as it is sexy, and as sexy as it is deadly. It's an infamously, deadly, sexy, legend. But it dare not be repeated.
Mere hours after our dinner with the prime minister of Oonk, as dusk begat twilight begat dawn, we were embroiled in fisticuffs atop a mountain peak, naked and slathered in baby oil. Possession of the precious Golden Monkey Femur would go to the victor. And we both know that you were the victor that night, Gary Coleman.
Mark these words, old chum: I will reclaim what is rightfully mine. Most likely by the time these very words meet your eye, the Ancient Golden Monkey Femur of Khali-Ahhh will once again be mine.
I have to apologize. It's been too long since my last post. It's been a busy time in the life of the Cyber family but what happened this weekend has pulled me out of my cocoon. When I heard the news that Tim Russert died of a massive heart attack in his office on Friday I was truly saddened. Perhaps surprisingly saddened. Surprised because you always hear about this celebrity death or that celebrity death. You even hear about those that are taken in their prime. But Mr. Russert's passing was terrible to hear. Perhaps it was because he was the one political news man that I cared to tune in and watch on Sunday mornings. Perhaps it was his professional and unbiased approach to journalism that impressed me. Perhaps it was that intangible quality that you sense in people that tells you they are hard working and family centered. But for whatever reason I am saddened. My heart goes out to the Russert family. I cannot imagine how devastating it must be for them right now. As for the greatest political show on television: Meet The Press... well, I know my disappointment for the loss of a great journalist is shared by many.
You never know what to expect from children. I was up early this morning with Lil' Higgins and we were watching one of the morning shows on TV. Then, in the middle of his bottle, he sat up and yelled "Pup-pup!" and pointed at the television. I scanned the entertainment center. Perhaps my wife left one of his stuffed puppy-dogs on top of it. No, and there was no puppy on the program. So I carried Lil' Higgins over to where he was pointing. He was pointing at the program and he wasn't saying "Pup-pup". He was saying "Papa" - the term of endearment the kids use for my dad... their granddad.
It happened to be a case of mistaken identity because Diane Sawyer was interviewing none other than Harrison Ford.
That's awesome! So if my dad is Harrison Ford from Indiana Jones, I guess that makes me... Shia Leboeuf... damn it! Wait a minute... I guess I didn't think that out completely.
Everyone knows that The Quad is a tightly knit group. We share everything... and I do mean everything! But every so often we come across a divergence of opinion. Such cognitive dissonance is almost always followed by copious amounts of cursing and death threats. But who can argue with Jamie Presley?
We all know Jamie Presley right? You probably remember her from her famous role as Joy Turner in the critically acclaimed series My Name is Earl.
Loyal fans will have also marveled at her death defying performance as Tina Armstrong in the movie DOA: Dead or Alive.
And the most ardent of fans will remember her turn as Jill in the blockbuster comedy The Adventures of Joe Dirt.
But what you may not know is that this accomplished thespian and gymnast of unlimited talent and unquestionable taste is also a fan of the Dave Matthews Band.
You will note the excerpt taken from a Entertainment Weekly interview some years ago:
Didn't you recently shoot a Dave Matthews video? Yeah, one of those weekends! I worked until 12:30 at night, then got on a plane and flew all night to shoot it in Orlando. It's for ''The Space Between.'' I'm a huge Dave Matthews fan.
I invite all Quad members to commence with borrowing and making copies of all my Dave Matthews Band CD's.
