The nexus of the universe

We've moved

2007-07-01T21:05:00.000-04:00

Find the improved Nexus of the Universe (Version 2.0) at www.thenexusoftheuniverse.blogspot.com.

Thank you Time Magazine.

2006-12-21T23:38:00.000-05:00

The following was origionally published in the Dec. 19 edition of the Statesboro Herald.

(Note: This is the acceptance speech I would have given had I been asked after Time Magazine told me that "you" are the Person of the Year.)

Thank you all. I can't believe this is happening to me.
To be named Time magazine's "Person of the Year" comes as such a shock. You know, you go through life and you try to do good things and you wonder if anyone is noticing, but you never expect to win such an award.

There are so many people I need to thank. Yes Dear, of course, for always standing beside me, reassuring me that one of these years, Time would see how wonderful I am. (Granted, for the 27th consecutive year, I failed to capture the prize that has become my great whale — People Magazine's "Sexiest Man Alive." One of these days, oh yes, it will be mine. George Clooney can't live forever.)

Also, I'd like to thank my parental units for all they've done for me. They always told me I could be anything I wanted to be, but I'm sure they found it strange that at the age of five I set my goal on being Time's "Person of the Year."

Most kids want to be a fireman or an astronaut, but not me. I wanted the recognition that comes with a weekly periodical naming me their most important human on the earth, and now I've got that.

I can now stand beside other such men as Adolf Hiter and Joseph Stalin, though I'd rather not focus on the fact that they, too, have been honored by Time.

Of course, I'd be remiss if I didn't thank Morris Multimedia for taking a chance on a young reporter fresh out of college. I hope I've been able to prove my worth now that I've earned such an honor.

Obviously I can expect a big, fat pay raise after bringing such prestige and honor to the Statesboro Herald. It's not like every newspaper in the country has Time's "Person of the Year" on their staff.

(Note to self: Remember to update your resume to include this honor. It can go next to your ABC News Person of the Year in 2004 for being a blogger.)

Most importantly, however, is the committee of people who got together and decided to honor me. I don't know who these people are and the only thing I can say for certain about them is that they are exceedingly brilliant.

It takes a genius to see my genius, and so, to the committee, I thank you for this honor.

I have to admit, however, that I'm kind of hurt that no one has called to congratulate me. Not my family, not my friends. Even at work, no one has said anything to me about this.

Of course, there's always the chance that everyone is playing dumb in preparation of a special "Luke Martin Appreciation Day" in which there's a parade in my honor and I'm given the key to the city. (Come on Mayor Bill Hatcher, you know you've been looking for an excuse to honor me.)

(Note to organizers: Thursday afternoons are usually good for me, but please check with my boss before throwing a massive county-wide celebration for me. I'd hate to be out on assignment and miss the honoring of me.)

But by winning this, I feel somewhat empty inside. All my life has been spent working towards achieving this goal and now that I've won it, what now? I'm not even 28 and I've achieved everything I set out to accomplish in life.

Sure, I could actually set new goals and challenges to achieve, but that would only be setting myself up for disappointment. I think it's best to rest on my laurels.

Perhaps I could fly around the country on the speaking circuit, pulling down a cool $25,000 to $50,000 for an hour-long speech about whatever it is that I know about. But then, I hate to travel, so that may not be the best career choice for me.

I guess I could write a book about what it takes to be a "Person of the Year," but that might take away from my duties here at the Herald, and I would think my boss wouldn't be pleased with that idea.

So I'll probably just keep doing what I'm doing, trying not to get fired and writing columns on such in irregular basis that there's no rhyme or reason to it.

That did, after all, earn me "Person of the Year."

Were you the winner?

2006-11-24T15:19:00.000-05:00

If you had November 22, 2006 in the "Luke loses his wedding ring" pool, please step forward to claim your prize.

That's right, after a little more than three years of marriage, my wedding ring is now lost, most likely never to be seen again.

My ring has always been a little big for my finger, so I could slide it off fairly easily (not that I did it often, but sometimes I'd be bored at work and flip it like a coin or something else to pass the time waiting for a phone call.)

But in the past month, I've noticed it would come off my finger really easily. It would catch my attention as it passed over the knuckle and I'd secure it where it belonged.

Yes Dear jokingly asked why I didn't care about the symbol of her love that she gave me on our wedding day. She's also joked (I think) that I'm single now.

Since I've lost it, I've had a lot of people ask me where I lost the ring, as though I'd know the answer. If I knew where I lost it, I'd be able to find it.

It's like people who say they found what they find what they lost "in the last place I looked." Of course it's the last place you looked. Once you find it, you're not going to keep looking.

Walking on Sunshine

2006-11-13T16:00:00.000-05:00

Note: The following hopefully will run in the Herald soon.

Many Georgia Southern football fans are disappointed with the results of this year’s team. Coming off an 8-3 regular season and – well, there’s no good way to say this – a collapse in the second half of their playoff game against Texas State, many fans were looking forward to a championship run this year with much of last year’s team coming back.

Unfortunately, it was not to be as Georgia Southern fired coach Mike Sewak and his staff and brought in Brian VanGorder to lead the Eagles to the Promised Land. Much like Moses and the Israelites, it may take us a while to reach the promised land of a national championship.
Heck, at this point, I think a lot of fans would like to see the “Hey, remember the playoffs” land.
But all those Negative Nancy’s are overlooking the good that VanGorder and his 3-7 have brought us by failing to make the playoffs.

First of all, our student-athletes will be able to spend Thanksgiving with their families, something that’s only happened one other time since 1997. With all effort and dedication the players put in for the program, it was exceedingly kind of VanGorder to give the players a losing season so they could spend the holiday with their family.

Surely they wouldn’t want to spend that week preparing for another playoff run and possible national title when they could be playing in the back yard with their younger brother and sister.
We hear a lot about family values in this country, but VanGorder is practicing what he preaches and, for that, deserves a pat on the back.

Also, without the hassle of preparing for playoff games, the student-athletes will have more time to dedicate to their studies. And if they’re like most students, they’ll want all the time they can to study before their final exams. Fortunately, they won’t have that pesky practice for playoff games to get in the way of their academic pursuits.

Under Sewak, the school lost scholarships due to academic issues, but thanks to VanGorder’s losing season, our players will have time to study.

Obviously the student comes first in student-athlete with VanGorder.

And while the players may reap the benefits, lets not forget about the coaches, who will get an extra month to recruit players that we haven’t had in the past. Instead of breaking down film of our next opponent, they can break down film of high school payers and try to convince them to become an Eagle.
But enough about the players and coaches, what about the benefits to the fans? For years, we had to sacrifice our Saturdays during the end of November and December to support our team in their quest for another national title.

And while many of us didn’t mind doing such, it drastically cut down on the number of available shopping days we had before Christmas. Let’s face it, traveling to Boone, N.C. or San Marcos, Texas on a Saturday for a playoff game isn’t the best use of the valuable holiday shopping time.

This year, fortunately, we’ve got the full allotment of Saturdays to complete our holiday shopping needs. That likely wouldn’t have happened had VanGorder not been here.

So all you Debbie Downers out there complaining, “woe is me, my team didn’t make the playoffs and our team greatly underachieved,” need to take a step back and realize how much VanGorder has done for this team and for you as fans.

While others around town may be upset with you, Mr. VanGorder, I am quite pleased with how you’re looking out for both the students and the fans. Pay no attention to the nay-sayers and I look forward to many more years of your excellent leadership.

An open letter to the dog in my neighborhood

2006-11-06T14:30:00.001-05:00

Dear Mr. or Ms. Dog (whichever the case may be),

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Luke and my wife and I live in your neighborhood. I moved in a few months ago and have done my best to be a good neighbor.

We're quiet people who rarely throw parties and they're never loud. We try to keep our yard fairly nice (though the sod we were given wasn't very good, so the yard doesn't look great, but we're trying) and we're polite to all our neighbors.

And we don't even have a fence so you're free to roam around our yard if the desire strikes you.

Even the first time we met, you seemed nice, even following Yes Dear and I as we walked though the neighborhood before we got concerned for you and walked back to your house to let your owners (those people who feed you, they think they own you, I didn't know if you knew that or not) take you inside.

So I can't, for the life of me, figure out why you feel the need to bark at me every time I pass by your house now.

At first I thought it was because I'd wear a Cubs hat or jacket and you had some deep hatred for a team represented by an animal that could end your existence on this planet rather quickly. (You may not be aware, but bears, even little Cubs, are godless killing machines.)

But then I figured you're a dog and likely weren't affected by the designs on jackets or hats, especially when it's just the letter "C" and really wouldn't give any indication to your imminent demise.

Then I thought that you were concerned that I was invading your territory and you were simply defending your home turf. This seemed reasonable as here I was, a stranger, coming near your territory and you, being the good, albeit small, dog that you are, wanted to protect your family.

That got me thinking what I could do to help fix that problem. A friend of mine gave me one idea, but I'd rather not risk having my name show up in the police blotter for indecent exposure and trespassing just so you don't bark at me, so I had to pass on that.

I guess I could do what I did at my apartment before we moved and just buy dog treats and give you one each time I walked by, but at two to three times a day at five days a week, that could get costly quickly.

Plus, I'd rather not bribe you to be my friend. That's one step away from saying "I'm getting a Playstation 3 and if you'll be my friend, I'll let you play." I prefer to make my friends the old fashioned way - catch someone in a compromising position, obtain photographic evidence, and then blackmail them to be nice to me or expose their shortcomings.

So where does that leave us, Mr. or Ms. Dog? We can continue along this path of you barking at me each time I walk by, thus annoying your neighbors (and surely your owners as well), but surely we can reach some sort of arrangement.

I promise to not walk on your yard, throw things at you or your house and generally do nothing that would upset you and the people you live with if, in return, you'll just stop barking at me. I just want to enjoy my walk.

Thank you for your time and I look forward to reaching a mutually satisfying conclusion to our issue.

And in the event you don't speak English, I've taken the time to talk to a friend of mine who has dogs and he translated this for you. In dogspeak, it reads: arf, arf, woof, woof, arf, bark, woof.
Sincerely,

Luke

Signs

2006-09-29T17:46:00.000-04:00

Sign Sign everywhere a sign
Blocking out the scenery breaking my mind
Do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign

The great poet Jim Morrison once wrote “people are strange.”

The more I go though life, the more I agree with him.

Today, I went to the bank to deposit my meager earnings with them as I do every other Friday. As I was driving up, I saw a lady with a sign and thought “great, who is protesting what now?”

But that’s where the story gets strange.

She wasn’t protesting the Iraq war or the city’s proposed ordinance regarding parking in front yards. She wasn’t urging us to free Tibet or to eat only free range chicken drink only free range coffee.

Nope. Instead, her sign read “have a great day” and she was shouting the same message to passing motorists.

My first thought was “oh, that’s nice of her,” but the more I thought about it, the more confused I got.

First off, why is she shouting at me. Perhaps her message would have had more of an impact if she told me the same thing in a more soothing tone. After all, more than 70 percent of all communication is non-verbal (a statistic I just made up, but admit it, it sounded good.) Shouting at me has never made me have a great day.

Secondly, how is this supposed to improve my day? Some random stranger holding a sign is supposed to make me forget I’m dropping more than $700 on car repairs. If she really wanted me to have a good day, she could offer to help pay for my car or buy me lunch. Heck, if she’d quit yelling at me, my day would improve.

Finally, doesn’t this woman have anything better to do with her time? If she really wanted people to have a good day, couldn’t she go volunteer at any of the numerous non-profit organizations throughout the area?

So now I’m perplexed. It reminds me of the Lewis Black situation where he heard “If it weren’t for my horse, I wouldn’t have spent that year in college.”

To steal a joke from Family Guy, I haven’t been this confused since the end of Waterworld.

Cut to scene of Chris Griffin walking out of the theater: “How does Kevin Costner keep getting work?”

Fantasy Update: The Fighting Squirrels are just three days away from claiming the championship in fantasy baseball, mostly due to the hiring of Catherine Zeta-Jones to serve as team mom/model. (She gives all the players juice boxes after the game, and as the patron saint of the Fantasy Update, it’s only fitting to pay her homage as we close in on a championship.)

In fantasy football news, the Fighting Squirrels are 1-2 in one league and 2-1 in the other, but we’re looking forward to improving after Zeta-Jones joining the teams after her duties with the baseball team are complete (Someone’s got to give the guys orange wedges at halftime.)

Neighborhood update: One of Yes Dear’s coworkers and her husband recently moved into the neighborhood. They’re nice and I really like them. Good times for us.

Work update: No work tonight, no work this weekend. That’s the last I want to think about it until Monday.

Hope everyone is doing well. Enjoy your weekend and thanks for reading.

The need for feed

2006-09-23T10:59:00.000-04:00

Note: the following is a work in progress I'll be tinkering with it for a while. It’ll publish on the day the Herald’s redesigned website launches.

Also, coming Monday (hopefully), my super Fantasy recap to get you up to date on all the fantasy news of mine that you really didn't care about. Sorry I've been gone so long, but it's good to be back.

I have a confession to make.

I like to eat. I do it on a regular basis. In fact, there are times I eat two, three or four times a day.

Some may say I'm addicted, and I think they're right. I eat everyday. I can't help it.
Making matters worse is that I've surrounded myself with enablers. Yes Dear cooks delicous meals for me. My Parental Units invite us over to eat with them. Friends call and want to go out to eat.

Even my job enables my behavior by sending me to cover luncheons and other events where food is served.

So why bring this up?

Because my job is putting me in a position where I may finally have to break my food addiction cold turkey. (Yeah, I went for the obvious joke. I'd like to appologize for writing that. Hopefully the rest of this column gets better.)

Today, the Statesboro Herald is launching a redesigned website that will hopefully make it easier for everyone to navigate and find what they're looking for.

We're also adding blogs (web logs) for our reporters where we're free to write about pretty much anything we want.

This freightens me more than people dressed up in bunny costumes.

Putting a person in front of their company's website and telling them to put their thoughts on the screen is a recipie for disaster.

Heck, it's borderline entrapment. If I'm having a bad day and sit down to blog about it, I'm liable to post something that would get me fired.

And if I get fired, I can pretty much kiss my food habit good bye.

So with that in mind, my blog on our website is giong to be bland, to say the least.

Below are just a few of the light-hitting topics I plan on tackling with my blog:

‰ Statesboro Herald Editor Jim Healy: Great boss or greatest boss? (Yes, I stole that from Stephen Colbert, but it applies to my boss as well.)

‰ Statesboro Herald Publisher Randy Morton: Legend or diety?

‰ Cuter animal: Puppies or kittens?

‰ peanut butter or jelly: the world's greatest debate.

‰ Tulips or roses: which will make Yes Dear happier today?

‰ Where do I recommend going out to eat? (Ok, I'll give you a glimpse of my answer to this one. Go eat at any restaurant that advertises with us and boycott the rest until they start running ads in our paper. After all, I'm nothing if not a company man.)

Obviously the blog will be a work in progress and I'm sure there are innumerable topics to tackle.

The important thing is I don't say anything controversial. If it turns out more of you think puppies are cuter than kittens, then I'll agree with you, the customer. If you think Randy
Morton is a god among men, I'll sing in that choir.

After all, I've got make sure I can eat.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go ask our advertising manager where I should go to lunch.

(Note, feel free to suggest your own innocuous topics I could write about on my work blog.)

Rest in Peace, Erk

2006-09-13T00:12:00.000-04:00

We'll miss you.

To publish or not to publish?

2006-09-08T12:28:00.000-04:00

Note: I'm not sure if I want to publish this as a column in the publication which shall not be named. So I'm posting it here and asking your opinion.

"Gentlemen, the hopes and dreams of an entire town are riding on your shoulders. You may never matter again in your life as much as you do right now." - Permian High School football coach Gary Gaines to his team (From the book "Friday Night Lights").

In his book "Friday Night Lights," Buzz Bissinger focuses on the high school football team the small, economically depressed town of Odessa in west Texas where they derive their entire identity from its football team.

When the team loses a game, the coach returns home to find a "For Sale" sign in his yard. And that's one of the more tame incidents in the book that chronicles the 1988 Permian Panthers from summer workouts to their heartbreaking loss in the semifinals.

The pressure on these kids (and coaches) is enormous for an extra-curricular activity.

While the book (published in 1990) is superficially about high school football, the true emphasis of the book is the pressure put on the students and the apparent lack of big-picture thinking in the town.

Bissinger, himself, described the book as being about "the power of hope, the spellbinding brilliance of it as well as the danger of it."

He was also struck at the very nature of the beast that is high school sports.

"I saw the way in which they were discarded once their athletic powers dried up . . . I saw the way in which educating these boys, because they were still boys, of preparing them for life after football, was considered as little more than an afterthought."

How could it happen that a town would allow the school board to spend more on athletic tape than on English books? Why would a town stand for a coach that discouraged his players from taking the SAT because it would interfere with the game film study on Saturday mornings?

And while the book was about a Texas town, it could just as well have been written about any town where football is king and everything else is inconsequential.

"Ten years later I am more convinced that what happened in Odessa was by no means unexceptional," Bissinger said in a speech in 2001.

It could be about a place where thousands of fans, parents and friends attend games each week, but never ask how history class is going. It could be about a town where thousands of dollars and countless hours are donated to athletics, but academic teams struggle for any attention despite the fact their teams put in just as much effort to their competition.

More than anything, the book is about priorities and what a community places the most importance on.

So why bring this book up? Well, with the start of high school football season around the state, I figured it was a good time to have a priority check.

After all, thousands of people will go to a high school football game each Friday night, but how many of those people (myself included) bother to show up to a school board meeting unless something crucial like the colors of the school's mascot are being discussed?

And we here at (The publication which shall not be named) aren't immune from this either. We've got three reporters dedicated to covering sports (two who are mainly focused on high school athletics), but no one who covers the education beat.

Is this a good thing? Well, it sells papers, which is the ultimate goal of the business. (In theory we're here to be the watchdog for the community, but only if that watchdog status will pad the bottom line.)

This is far from an indictment on high school athletics. I played soccer in high school and the games and teamwork can teach valuable life lessons. But the key there is "life lessons." If what is learned is only applied between the lines on the field, the character-building element of high school sports is nonexistent.

So go, enjoy the games on Friday nights (as well as the games of the not-so-high profile sports.) Just remember, they're called student-athletes for a reason.

Friday Night &$^#*ing Lights

2006-09-01T16:01:00.000-04:00

(Note: the following is a rant, pure and simple. I hate writing about what’s going on in my life and would rather tackle some various topics, but sometimes you just have to vent. Sorry for the second rant in as many weeks. Maybe this will get it out of my system)

So here I am, late Friday afternoon, stuck at work. Normally, I wouldn’t mind so much, but today, I’m ticked off.

As you may recall, I’m working Friday nights for the publication-that-shall-not-be-named for their extensive coverage of high school football (that’s another rant, maybe when I’m done with this, I’ll tackle that issue.)

It’s generally boring work for most of the night. I can generally get everything set up by 8 p.m. and then I’m just waiting. Waiting for games to end. Waiting for reporters to write their stories. Generally having the worst Friday night imaginable.

But that was before I found out some new information.

Not every sports writer on the publication-that-shall-not-be-named is even working on Friday nights. That’s right, we’ve got a total of three people on the sports staff (one more than for the news staff, by the way) and one of them is getting every #&#^$ Friday night off.

I don’t hold this against her. She’s a fantastic writer and covers Georgia Southern football, so there would be times were it wouldn’t be feasible for her to cover a high school game Friday night and then drive to wherever GSU is playing to cover that game.

But the Eagles have seven (count them, SEVEN) home games this year. That’s seven Friday nights where this sports writer could do some sports writing on the biggest sports night of the week.

For reasons known only to chief bossman, she doesn’t have to.

I, on the other hand, am stuck spending every other Friday night sitting in the gray cubicle farm waiting for high school football games to end. In case you missed it earlier, one half of our news staff is spending his Friday’s covering for the sports department while an actual sports writer goes home.

It’s ridiculous. It’s absurd. It *(&# sucks.

I don’t understand the logic, if any, behind such a decision. As I said, on weekends when GSU has a road game, I can see the reasoning behind her not working. But every Friday?!?

Obviously I’m ticked off. I’d go talk to the boss, but at this point, I’m scared I’d say something that would lead to me not only not working on Friday nights, but not working at all.
So any suggestions from the faithful Nexus readers? Help me come up with a calm, rational approach to address my boss about this.

I wish I was this funny

2006-09-01T11:41:00.000-04:00

One of my favorite websites to peruse is fark.com, a news aggregator (calling it a blog will get you on the farkers bad side, never a good place to be. People from all over the world submit offbeat news articles and give them funny headlines.

Below are a few of my favorites (plus it makes for an easy blog.) All of these were on fark in the past week. Enjoy.

Hanging a sausage out of your pants and chasing a female employee generally not considered good workplace etiquette

Receding Texas lake reveals prehistoric skeleton. Ted Kennedy immediately denies involvement

Bored with your job? Be creative and make some work to do. Difficulty: You're a federal firefighter

Apartment residents discover there isn't a Brita filter in the world that can get the taste of dead guy out of your tapwater

Bruce Springsteen not splitting from wife. Millions of big-haired Jersey girls weep uncontrollably

Never wanting to see a one-legged woman again, Paul McCartney to donate to minefield charity

Miss World pageant symbol judged too erotic, redrawn. Because so many people watch Miss World for the sexy logos

If you can afford the $99,000 price tag, the original 1964 S.S. Minnow could be yours. Ginger and Mary Ann not included

The sales of Paris Hilton's CD projected to be less than her tally of sexual partners

Friends at work raise £17,500 to buy man the drug he needs to save his life. Look around at the slugs you work with. Yeah, in his situation, you're dead

Snakes . . . on a Plane!

2006-08-28T18:10:00.000-04:00

After months of hype, based almost exclusively on the title alone, “Snakes on a Plane” opened recently in theaters.

As one of the people who actually followed the hype from the beginning, I was actually looking forward to the movie with such a succinct title. After all, how could the movie go wrong? It had snakes. On a plane. What more could you need?

When I initially asked Yes Dear if she wanted to go see it, she looked at me as though I’d asked if she would mind if Catherine Zeta-Jones and I spent a romantic weekend together at a beach resort.

So when she (Yes Dear, not Zeta-Jones) went to Atlanta for the weekend, I knew it was probably my best chance to see the movie. Fortunately for me, Official Brother and some of his friends were going to see it Saturday afternoon, so I invited myself and a friend to go along with them.

After sitting though an inordinate amount of previews and commercials (is there anyone who would object to movie theaters publishing two times for each movie – the first for when the previews start and the second for when the actual movie starts? Anyone at all opposed to this?), the movie finally started.

It opens with a beach scene and the word “Snakes” on the screen for about three seconds, before they finally add “on a Plane.” It’s that kind of laughable suspense-building that made this movie perfect to go see with your friends to mock.

Of course, it’s your typical airplane movie. There’s the sudden loss of altitude that requires our heroes to pull up just in time to avoid crashing into the ocean. It’s got the overly dramatic dialogue in which Samuel L. Jackson says, “Let’s go get these people some air.” And, of course, it has the death of the pilots which means a passenger has to land the plane.

But in addition to those tried and true airplane movie staples, this movie had something extra. It had snakes.

Lots of snakes. And did I mention they were on the plane?

Fans flooded the Internet with comments about the movie that they actually got Samuel L. Jackson to reshoot some scenes to include one line that made the move.

But in an effort to keep this blog PG-13, I’ll paraphrase Jackson, who near the end of the movie says, “Enough is enough. I’ve had it with the motherfarking snakes on this motherfarking plane.” How could you go wrong with a movie that includes that line?

Overall, it was exactly what I was expecting when I went to see it. Come on, it’s not like there were going to be any surprises. There were going to be snakes and they were going to be on a plane.

That said, if you choose to wait and rent this when it comes out on DVD, I implore you to watch it with a group of friends. If you watch it by yourself, it’ll be boring. In fact, if you need someone to watch it with you, give me a call. I’d love to see it again.

Fantasy Update: Shakira’s hips may not lie, but her mouth has as she hasn’t called me back to set up our date. Granted, I don’t think she was talking to me when she said “. . . . yes . . . .” but if you’re going to say your hips don’t lie, I think the rest of you shouldn’t lie either. In other fantasy news, the Fighting Squirrels have continued their free-fall, going 6-8-2 in one league (but remaining in second place and clinching a playoff spot) while falling 5-9-1 in the other league to 3.5 games out of the playoffs.
Fantasy Corollary: I had the second of my two fantasy football drafts Sunday night. I wasn’t overly thrilled with my draft, but not totally disappointed either. I guess we’ll see how it goes this year.

Cubs Update: We still suck, getting swept by St. Louis over the weekend.
Twins Corollary: After naming the Twins my team to cheer for down the stretch, they took two of three games from the Wild Card leading White Sox and now have a 1/2 game lead in the Wild Card.

House update: Yes Dear wants to paint on Labor Day. I’d rather not, but then again, I’m ok not painting for a while. Odds are I’ll be painting. Also, we’re still working on getting grass in the yard. It’s coming along ok, but not great.

New Weekly Update update: On Family Guy, Peter Griffin got a local segment on the news in which he discussed “what really grinds my gears.” I like the idea of having a place to regularly complain on this blog, so I’m introducing a new update (it’s my blog, what are you going to do about it? . . . I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get upset. Please don’t stop reading. You’re a valued reader and I appreciate you wasting part of your week reading about my mundane life.) Anyway, I’m happy to add my new feature that was inspired by “Snakes on a Plane. “I’ve had it with these motherfarking _____ (in, on, other preposition) this motherfarking (noun.)

I’ve had it with the motherfarking ants in my motherfarking house: For some reason, we’ve had a lot of ants in our house since we bought it. We’ve fought the good fight with a can of Raid, but they’re still in the house.

Thanks for reading. In the words of Apu, “Thank you. Come again.”

Anyone for an update?

2006-08-23T18:12:00.000-04:00

Hey everybody

(Hi Dr. Nick.)

I’ve unfortunately been busy the last few days and therefore, blogging fell by the wayside. Sadly, I’m still a little stressed, so it’s an update day here at the Nexus.

Fantasy Update: VH1 host Rachel Perry hasn’t left her job to become my personal assistant yet, but I’m still hoping this whole VH1 channel is a fad that will go under. In other fantasy news, the Fighting Squirrels rebounded to have a decent week in both leagues. I’m in second in one league and sixth (and final playoff spot) in the other. We’re getting close to the playoffs, so it’s almost go time.
Also, I was in the first of my two fantasy drafts Monday night. It was a 12-team league, making it slim pickings when it came to the end of the draft. Nevertheless, I’m pleased right now with my roster, but then again, everyone is at the end of the draft. We’ll see by week four how things are going for me.

Big Brother Update: Well, my favorite, Kayser, was voted out a few weeks ago, and now it appears as if James, the guy who wears the Georgia Southern stuff all the time, is likely heading out the door Thursday. That said, Dr. Will is playing a perfect game, keeping the target off him and yet backstabbing his alliances at just the perfect time.

Cubs update: We still suck.

General Baseball update: With the Cubs season all but over and injuries pretty much leaving only two guys on the team I’m excited about seeing play, I’ve started watching more and more games from teams in the playoff hunt. I’ve unofficially adopted the Minnesota Twins as my team to cheer for down the stretch.

House update: Two rooms painted (the kitchen and guest bathroom) and six more to go. The grass in our front yard still looks bad, and despite not doing anything to our back yard, the grass is coming in nicely.

Exercise Bike Update: My wife got an exercise bike, which should help my quest to lose weight. Now if I could just stay away from the candy here in the office, I’ll be good.

You must try this update: If you haven’t gone to Chic-Fil-A for one of their milkshakes yet, stop reading this and do it now. It’ll be worth every penny. I promise. (Warning: They are addictive. Don’t blame me if you can’t stop ordering them.)

Fark Update: I got my first greenlight (which means I submitted a link and it was accepted and posted on the site) last week. There are people who have been Fark members for years without a greenlight. Good times for me.

Next Post Update: Maybe Friday, maybe over the weekend. Maybe Monday. Let’s not commit to anything, we don’t want to be Scott.

Until next time, take care of yourself, and each other.

Earl Hickey, why have you forsaken me?

2006-08-14T18:45:00.000-04:00

No good deed goes unpunished.

I’ve tried to live my life by that biblical truth, and it’s served me well . . .

(Voice offstage): Uhhh, Luke, that’s not in the Bible.

Me: What do you mean? Of course it is. It’s right next to the verse that says “God helps those who help themselves.” I think it’s in Leviticus somewhere.

Offstage voice: No Luke, like most things, you’re also wrong on this. There’s nothing like either of those sayings in any religious text. You fail at religion.

Ok, so maybe the whole no good deed goes unpunished isn't religious but it is important. I have to believe in karma. Television’s great philosopher Earl Hickey broke down the complicated cosmic force into a simple rule: “Do good things, good things happen to you. Do bad things, bad things happen to you.”

It sounds simple enough. If I help carry groceries for the little old lady, she’ll let me feel up her hot granddaughter in the parking lot. Because I’m married, I don’t carry groceries out to the cars of little old ladies. I care about my wife, so I don't help old ladies. What could be more simple?

I wondering about this because it seems karma has somehow managed to have gotten lost on its way to visit me for my good deeds.

A little more than three years ago, a coworker was having troubles at his apartment complex and didn’t feel comfortable leaving his wife at home while he worked nights. Chief Bossman asked me if I would work some nights to help this guy out. Being the nice guy that I am (are you reading, karma?) I agreed to do it.

Well, this guy left several months later, so logic would tell you that I don’t have to work nights anymore. Unfortunately, logic and karma aren’t on the same page and it didn’t happen. Making matters worse, I somehow started working Friday nights, the anti-holy grail (would that be a secular plate?) of shifts to work.

While friends came into town to visit and hang out the night before Georgia Southern football games, I was stuck in an office working. Once football season ended, I managed to “only” have to work Wednesday and Thursday nights, but by that time Yes Dear and I were married and she (and I) were less than pleased about my work schedule.

Finally, around the beginning of the year, due to a series of staff changes and reassignments, I was not working nights for the first time in years. My job satisfaction levels dramatically increased.

In fact, I was riding high, enjoying my job (as much as you can for not being a professional athlete.)

Then came last Friday, when karma’s evil twin visited me.

After being told that I would more than likely not have to work Friday nights, I was looking forward to high school football season for the first time since I was in high school. If I wanted to go see my alma matter play, I could. If I wanted to drive around and throw eggs on all the cars of people who went to a game, I could. The world was my oyster and I was hungry.

Unfortunately, I got a bad batch of oysters and I’m now stuck working Friday nights again. No high school football games for me. No egg throwing mischeviousness for me. Instead it’s me, an empty office and a static-filled AM radio broadcast of a high school game that rivals the latest developments in the daytime soap opera Days of Our Lives in terms of how much I care about it.

So I ask you, Earl Hickey. Where’s mine? Where’s my piece of the pie? When does this karma thing kick in?

Answer me, Earl Hickey, or have you forsaken me?

(Note: This is in no way an indicment of my boss. I like my boss. When it comes to vices, he's my enabler. You see, I have this nasty habit of eating food. I do it two, three, sometimes four times a day. It's an addiction I can't break. He keeps me employed and thereby giving me the money I need when I need a fix. This post was a rant and nothing more.)

Fantasy Update: In sticking with our “My Name is Earl” theme, Jamie Pressley hasn’t ventured down to south Georgia to see how real trailer trash lives. For whatever reason, she hasn’t taken me up on my offer to let her stay with us while she researches the role. In other fantasy news, the Fighting Squirrels are going to have to go do some charity work to get karma to help us out as we’ve managed to drop faster than something that, if dropped, would drop quickly. We went 3-12-1 in one league to fall into second place and going 7-6-1 in the other to remain outside of the playoffs looking in.

Weekend update: Worked Saturday morning, it rained Saturday afternoon so I played video games (Grand Theft Auto III is great for relieving stress and frustration). Worked Sunday morning, cleaned the house Sunday afternoon and went with Yes Dear to First Night Out for Georgia Southern students Sunday night.

Big Brother Update: I missed Sunday’s show, so I don’t have a clue what happened. Hopefully I’ll find out soon.

Until next time, take care of yourself, and each other.

22 things to make my life better

2006-08-10T22:46:00.000-04:00

ESPN columnist Bill Simmons recently wrote a column with the 33 things he'd like to see done to make sports better. (Read it here, if you're so inclined.)

Never being one to turn down a good blog idea, I figured I'd come up with 22 things to make my life better. So here they are in no particular order.

1. Grass in my back yard (and in the front yard for that matter.)

2. A stretch where the Cubs go 25-5.

3. My fantasy teams to get back on track (more on that in the very belated Fantasy Update)

4. Losing 20 pounds.

5. A raise.

6. Time for and dedication to blogging.

7. Cooler weather (or somewhere in the shade to park my car.)

8. Catherine Zeta-Jones and Beyonce Knowles fighting in a vat of Jell-O for the right to go on a date with me (and really, there are no losers in that one.)

9. A wife who would accommodate number eight.

10. Actual writing talent.

11. Kayser back on Big Brother All-Stars

12. One of our neighbors to get a puppy and letting Yes Dear play with it all day long.

13. Alcohol served to every interview subject about 30 minutes before I start questioning them.

14. Bill O'Reilly off the air.

15. Keith Olberman back on SportsCenter.

16. Money for nothing and chicks for free.

17. I also want my MTV.

18. An extra role on any of the Law & Orders.

19. Tickets to see Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert.

20. A really good cheeseburger.

21. Spending a week on the Baseball Tonight set at ESPN.

22. Not having to work on Friday nights. (I hate high school football!)

Fantasy Update: I've been told I look like Paul from the Wonder Years, so I'd love the chance to date Danica McKellar, but she apparently doesn't date married guys from Georgia. At least, that's what I inferred from the restraining order. In other fantasy news, the Fighting Squirrels were reduced to shadowboxing chipmunk last week, losing 2-13-1 in one league and shrinking my lead to just 1.5 games while going 6-8-1 in the other league to fall out of the playoffs if the season ended today. Needless to say, we made some changes and hired Matt Foley to speak to the teams. I think it'll make a difference.

Big Brother Update: As noted above, Kayser, (America's favorite Muslim) was evicted from Big Brother tonight. He was my favorite and now I'm reduced to cheering against people for the rest of the show. I guess I'll cheer for James since he's a Georgia Southern grad.

Weekend plans: After spending the past two weekends painting, my plans for this weekend is to . . . not paint. I'll watch some baseball and do whatever comes up.

Leading today's college students astray update: I was asked to speak to a group of public relations students at Georgia Southern Friday and give them tips on how to write and other advice. I'm honored that they would pick the winner of the 2005 Georgia Press Association humor columnist in class (whatever classification we're in), but I can't help but think there is an entire communication arts department with people who have actually, you know, studied this stuff for a living. Maybe I'll point out to them that they need to take advantage of the abundance of intellectual resources they have on campus. Or not. I could go either way on this one.

Curing your Braves Blues

2006-08-04T16:15:00.000-04:00

Note: The following appeared in the August 4 edition of the Statesboro Herald

Dear Braves Fans,

As we enter August, the Braves appear to be reaching the end of their run of consecutive division titles that stretches back to 1991. (For the sake of a better story, we'll pretend the Braves weren't six games behind the Montreal Expos when the 1994 strike happened. In fact, let's just say 1994 never happened.)

Because of that unprecedented string of success, there's an entire generation of Braves fans who don't know how to deal with an August and September of essentially meaningless baseball games.

Sure, there's still the hope of the Wild Card. And while the Braves are only a few games behind Cincinnati, there are eight teams between the Braves and the Reds. Yeah, there's hope, but there's also hope Katie Holmes will regain her sanity long enough to leave Tom Cruise, only to lose said sanity and fall madly in love with me. (And in the unlikely event the Braves do make the playoffs, I like my crow baked with a zesty lemon flavoring.)

As the Statesboro Herald's resident Cubs fan, I've experienced far more than my fair share of meaningless August and September games and in effort to help you though this troubling time, I'd like share my advice for surviving the dog days of summer with your team out of the race.

1. Turn your attention to your fantasy team. Now that you don't care how the Braves do, you can hope Carlos Beltran or Ryan Howard hit a three-run homer against Atlanta. Sure, it might lead to the Braves losing, but it would help the Fighting Squirrels (your fantasy team name may vary) make it into the playoffs.

Find the one guy in your league that still has hope for the Braves and loot and plunder their team by trading him all your Atlanta players. Don't feel bad about it. Your fantasy team is your top priority now. Next April, you can start to care more about the Braves than the Wal-Mart Low Prices (Why Wal-Mart Low Prices? Because nobody beats Wal-Mart's Low Prices.) For now, you are cold, calculating owner bent on world domination, or at least beating your friends in fantasy baseball.

2. Find a team to hate and send all your negative karma towards them. Call it the anti-Earl Hickey rule.

For me, I spend all my frustration over another disappointing season by rooting against the Yankees. (Even my anti-teams don't do what I want.)

For you, it could be the Mets, Cardinals, Phillies or the Cubs (although wishing more losses on the Cubs seems a bit like saying the ocean needs more water.)

Remember, your goal here is to make the rest of this season as miserable for as many people as possible. Your summer is ruined; so don't let anyone else enjoy it either. If that means your boss is a San Francisco Giants fan, you start staying up late to watch the west coast games and hoping the Dodgers get on a hot streak.

3.Learn your minor league players as the odds are you'll be seeing them soon. With so many young players on the Braves roster this year, the minor league cupboard may be little empty, but I'm sure there's someone in the minors who can inspire hope for next year.

More importantly, be sure to drop his name in Braves conversations before he gets called up so you can impress your friends.

4. Watch some games from teams you don't usually follow. Likely, this would be an American League team. Watch David Ortiz hit in the clutch or Ichiro's hitting stroke. You'll be glad you did.

5.Take some time and do all those things you always wanted to do. Go to the Falcons training camp and spend a few days watching practice. Take that martial arts class you keep talking about. Read that book you keep on your coffee table to make you appear more intelligent than you really are (or am I the only one who does that? Do you really think I've read the collective works of Bill Shakespeare?)

Fortunately, as Braves fans, you are already well versed in the most important facet of watching meaningless games in the summer. You're accustom to uttering the phrase "wait til next year."

This just in . . .

2006-07-31T17:31:00.000-04:00

The mood around el Casa de Martin is somber today as Yes Dear isn't happy with the Cubs right now. Approximately 30 minutes before the trading deadline, the Cubs traded Todd Walker to the San Diego Padres for a minor league pitcher.

Walker wasn't an all-star. He was a solid player for the Cubs and did everything asked of him. He played first base when the team needed him to. He hit anywhere in the lineup he was placed and, as far as I can tell, never complained. Simply put, Walker was an average player for, at this point, a well-below average team.

So why would the mood around here be dejected? Well, Walker was Yes Dear's favorite player. Apparently he is a nice-looking player, earning the nickname around here as "hottie Toddy." But now, Walker is a member of the Padres. When informed of Walker's new digs in San Diego, Yes Dear said "We don't even watch the Padres. Besides, he probably won't look good in that uniform."

But life will go on. The Cubs will continue their quest to stay out of last place and though the magic of satellite television, I'll probably be watching a lot more Padre games now. (Not that watching Padres games would be all bad, I do have one of their pitchers on my fantasy team.)

Fantasy Update: Eva Longoria hasn't left NBA star Tony Parker to be with a mediocre newspaper writer . . . yet. In other fantasy news, the Fighting Squirrels had a good week, going 13-2-1 to extend our lead to 12.5 games over second place in one league. (And you know I'm going to lose in the first round of the playoffs. It's going to suck.) In the other league, I went 5-8-2, but managed to move from sixth place to fifth place thanks to a terrible week from the team ahead of me. Only five weeks remaining until the playoffs start, and I'm hoping to remain in the top six to qualify.

Weekend Update: My weekend started last Wednesday when Yes Dear and I celebrated our three-year anniversary (we had to celebrate a week early due to work conflicts. Hopefully we make it to this Wednesday.) We went to the beach about two hours from here and had a good time. She even beat me at miniature golf. On Saturday, I helped Josh and his wife paint their house and then Sunday I watched baseball and (all together now), did laundry.

Cubs Update: We've actually won six of seven, including the first four-game sweep of St. Louis in Chicago since 1972. To celebrate, Yes Dear broke out the broom and ran around the house.

Next Post: I'm working on another column for the Statesboro Herald, so after that is published, I'll put it up here.

2006-07-24T18:31:00.000-04:00

I’m not cut out to live alone. I really, REALLY need someone else around the house or I start to drive myself crazy.

Yes Dear left Thursday to go with her parents on a family vacation to Tennessee (where I think they were hoping to meet Mr. Wendell.) (Unrelated note: Arrested Development was the first CD I ever bought. Take me to another place/ Take me to another land/ Make me forget all that hurts me/ Let me understand your plan)

So why didn’t I go? Good question. I had to work, to satisfy the Man and his hold over me.

Actually, I couldn’t get any coworkers to switch weekends with me, so I stayed here and she spent the weekend on a houseboat with jet skis and tubing while I’ll watched Animal House, Walk the Line and Big Brother.

The highlight of my weekend (aside from Big Brother, more on that below), was going to see Josh preach at his new church. While he did a fine job preaching, the more exciting news was that I (and the other guy with me, whose wife was also gone . . . though she’s in Cuba for a month) was mistaken for a college student. And not just once, but a few times.

Apparently I can still pass as a Georgia Southern student, even though I haven’t been a student there since December, 2001. Yes Dear will be happy to know that she’s married to someone who looks like they could be getting ready to take Intro to Psych.

Take that aging process.

Fantasy Update: Selma Hayek recently announced that she’s not unbelievably wealthy as a result of her movie career. That is fantastic news because now all those guys who were only after her for her money and not her fantastic body will leave her alone, dramatically increasing the odds I have of dating her. In other fantasy news, the Fighting Squirrels had a week to write a blog update about, going 12-4 in one league to remain in first place by eight games and going 10-3-2 to close to within a half-game of fifth place and only four games out of second place.

Fantasy Corollary: Fantasy football starts soon, making the months of August and September a difficult fantasy period due to juggling baseball and football leagues. I’m expecting my work performance, marriage and overall general well being to all suffer during the next two months. But on the plus side, there’s a chance I could win bragging rights for a year over my friends.

Big Brother Update: Yes friends, it’s back. The show that has no redeeming qualities and no educational value that I spend three hours a week watching has returned. This year is an “all-star” competition with players from previous seasons returning for a second chance at the $500,000 prize. James, the guy from Georgia Southern is back, as is Kayser, America’s favorite Muslim. Janelle and Erika are also back, meaning I’ll keep watching this season. I’ve been happy with how things have played out so far.

Vacation update: Yes Dear and I are heading to Jekyll Island, Ga. Wednesday to celebrate our three-year anniversary. Unfortunately, due to her work, we are having to celebrate a week early, so if something happens in the intervening week, I’ll always know that this trip will be a lie. Fortunately, I don’t plan on anything happening, so we’re good.

Cubs Update: We stink.

Next posting: Probably Friday (when I get back.)

Is there anybody out there

2006-07-21T23:01:00.000-04:00

Hey everyone. Remember me?

I'm the guy who left his blog alone for a month and now hopes people are actually going to still be reading him. (I feel like Scott.)

A lot has happened since I last wrote to you. I got a promotion at work, Yes Dear and I found out we're going to be having a baby and the Cubs went on their longest winning streak of the year (three games.)

Sadly, only one of those three above is correct . . . I'll give you a minute to try to guess . . .

nope, not that one.

Nope, not that one either.

Yep, that's it. The correct answer is that the Cubs went on their longest winning streak of the year, a whopping three games. (And just to clairfy for any of the slower readers out there . . . I didn't get a promotion at work, *edited to ensure I don't get demoted or fired*, and Yes Dear and I aren't having a child anytime soon - and by anytime soon, I mean within the next nine months at least, at with her out of town for 5 days, let's say nine months and five days at the earliest.)

I am working on a new column coming up soon (hopefully before Wednesday because I'll be on vacation from Wednesday though the following Monday, and I can guaruntee you no work is going to get done unless our mayor is assassinated by either another council member or our city manager.) It'll hopefully mix the obvious jokes and lack of insight you've become accustomed to reading.

(Again, just to clairfy, I'm not wishing our mayor to be murdered. I like our mayor and hope he doesn't die.)

I know what few remaining readers out there are probably wondering about the Fighting Squirrels and their quest to make the baseball playoffs. (And more accurately, you're wondering what happened to the fantasy updates with pictures of attractive women who are there for eye candy and really have nothing to do with what I'm talking about.)

Well, here's a photo of Sarah Alexander, star of BBC's Coupling for no reason. I'll give you a fantasy update in a little while, but I figured this is what you really wanted.

Speaking of Coupling, I know it's a few years old, but if you ever get the chance to catch the show on BBC America or can find them on Netflix or at your local video store, I recommend you giving it a shot. I find the writing to be spectacular, plus Sarah Alexander is in it, so if you don't like it, you can always watch her. It's really a no-lose proposition.

Ok, it's later, here's how the Fighting Squirrels are doing. In one league, we remain in first place, currently with a 7.5 game lead over second place. Assuming all our players don't come down with the Bird Flu, I'll make the playoffs. In my other league, I'm in a dogfight (rodentfight?) to make the playoffs. Currently, I'm in sixth place out of eight. Fortunately, that is in the playoffs. Unfortunately, it's the last playoff spot, so I would really like to get into fifth or fourth and feel more secure. (And really, who doesn't want to feel more secure in life?)

I can't promise to be back into a regular writing schedule anytime soon (especially with vacation coming up), but I will try to get back to writing something, anything on a semi-regular basis.

Hope all is well and I'll see you around soon.

Get off my lawn

2006-06-28T16:20:00.000-04:00

Note: The following will appear soon in the Statesboro Herald.

After nearly three years of marriage, Yes Dear and I thought it was a good time to take the next logical step in our relationship.

(Sorry Mom, we’re not having a kid, but the idea of telling you about it though one of my columns does seem appealing.)

No, instead we decided to buy a house. I guess, technically, the bank bought a house and we’re going to spend the next 30 years paying them for it. But semantics aside, we now own a home.

And now I get to look forward to all the joys and trials of home ownership, including spending my weekends working around the house rather than watching ball games and constantly praying for rain to nourish my lawn.

Instead of calling a landlord when something breaks, I’ve actually got to call someone to fix it – and pay for it. For all you students out there renting, there are some benefits to it.

However, now that I have a house of my own, there are quite a few things I’m looking forward to doing.

First of all, I know that I have years of yelling at the neighborhood children to get off my lawn whenever they cut though my backyard on the way to their friend’s house.

Along with that, I guess I’ve reached the stage in life where I can grumble and complain about the state of America’s youth.

“Kids today with their iPods and their Internets. Back in my day, we had a healthy dose of respect for our elders. We had good, wholesome entertainment like MTV and rap music. And look how well adjusted I turned out to be."

I’m not sure if 27 is old enough to play the role of crotchety old guy in the neighborhood, but it always seemed like a fun role to play. I always got the feeling the cranky old fuddy-duddy who hated kids would go inside after yelling at them and take some kind of twisted delight in scaring kids into submission.

I’ll also have the opportunity to be the house that all the neighborhood kids scurry past on Halloween because “that’s where ‘Old Man Martin’ lives" followed by some wildly exaggerated tale of horror that has no basis in truth.

In all fairness, I really don’t think I’m allowed to tell any kids to get off my lawn without being labeled as some sort of hypocrite. I’m pretty sure I wore a path in the yards of the people who lived between my house and my friends’ house. And as far as I know, none of the neighbors ever complained to my parents.

(If they did, my parents must have ignored them as they never told us not to go running through people’s yards. Although that could explain why my parents are never invited to the neighborhood Christmas party, even 15 years later.)

When I was tossing around the idea of writing this column, I was all set to include a part about how we must have offended the neighbors because they hadn’t taken the time to come introduce themselves and bring us a pie to welcome us to the neighborhood. Unfortunately for this column, it turns out our neighbors turned out to really nice and even though they didn’t give us a pie, we did get some banana-nut muffins, which were pretty good.

And now they’re inviting us to dinner. How can I relentlessly mock my neighbors if they’re going to be friendly and polite? Obviously they don’t care about my needs or they’d fill a stereotypical role to make my job easier.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go water my grass.

New Wedding Tradition: I was listening to the Sports Bash on ESPN Radio and the host said he has a tradition at every wedding he attends. At some point before the bride and groom cut the cake, he takes a dab of icing with his finger. He doesn't jab his finger into the cake and leave a giant hole, but just a swipe off the side. This sounds like a way to keep weddings exciting for me. I just wish I'd thought of it four years ago when all my friends were getting married.

What's been new with me update: You'd think I'd have a lot going on, but the truth of the matter is I'm just plugging along at work as I always do. Now I just go home to a different place each night.

Official Brother Baseball Update: Two weeks ago, Yes Dear, Official Brother and I went to Atlanta to watch the Red Sox (Official Brother's favorite team) take on the Braves. Boston won all three games and we were able to see a lot of our friends who live in the Atlanta area. A good time was had by all (except the Braves fans, who were vastly outnumbered by the Red Sox fans there.)

Kids are easily entertained update: As it turns out, there is a four-year-old girl who lives across the street from us. Whenever her mom is outside, she's with her and when they came to introduce themselves, the little girl decided it would be fun to play "chase." (Apparently this is a lot like "tag" only I never get to be the one being chased, I always have to chase her. I guess if you're making up the rules to the game, you can do this.) Well, now, everytime that I see her, she wants to play chase. I'm as friendly as the next guy, but not as in shape as the next guy. It's fun to play, but I'm worn out by the time we're done. Maybe it's because I sit behind a desk all day, but I'm out of shape.

Fantasy update: Denise Richards still hasn't sought me out to comfort her as she still struggles with the break up of her marriage to Charlie Sheen, but I'm still holding out hope she'll call me. (Denise, if you're reading, Yes Dear is going to be out of town this weekend, so I'm available.) In other Fantasy News, I'm not sure where I left off with the updates, so I'll just say I'm in first place in one league and sixth place in the other. Overall, as we near the half-way point in the season, I'm feeling pretty good about my teams (even the sixth place team.) I guess all those hours reading about how to analyze statistics during the winter is finally paying off.

Open House Update: When you buy a house, you're supposed to hold an open house party for your friends. I was unaware of this, but Yes Dear wanted to do it, so who am I to say no. It's scheduled for July 8 so if you're in the neighborhood, feel free to stop by. (Ladies, in the interest of remaining married, if you do stop by, please let my wife know you read my blog so she doesn't wonder why strange women are appearing at our door. Thanks.)

Well, I guess there's nothing left to say but that it's good to be back. I missed you guys.

It's almost here

2006-06-27T22:09:00.000-04:00

(That's "Coming soon, new post" for those who don't speak sign language.)

Sorry, sorry everyone.

2006-06-14T15:45:00.000-04:00

The good news: The house is all set up and nearly everything appears to be working properly.

The bad news: My computer's on the fritz, meaning no blogging from home. And since they actually expect me to work while in the office, that means minimal blogging for me. I'll have one of my coworkers come look at my computer and tell me what's wrong and how to fix it soon.

Have a good weekend all, the fantasy updates will hopefully return soon.

I'm not quite dead

2006-06-10T10:07:00.000-04:00

Hey guys and gals,

I haven't forgotten about this blog, and actually have wanted to post recently. However, until late yesterday, we didn't have internet at my home (stupid moving) and we've yet to set the computer up. A new post is coming soon.

We appreciate your understanding.

Spelling mania

2006-06-02T16:27:00.000-04:00

Hello, my name is Luke M. and I’m a nerd.

I watched the Scripps National Spelling Bee Thursday night. That’s right, years from now when someone asks me where I was when Katherine Close correctly spelled Ursprache and became the first girl (woman?) to win the Bee this millennium, I’ll be able to tell them.

While others have mocked the Bee and those who would watch it, I embrace the competition that puts an inordinate amount of pressure on middle school kids and then, for added dramatic effect, televises it to the nation for millions to deride these spelling savants.

(Official Brother and I discussed during the Bee the effects of these kids being on national television. On one hand, they are obviously geeks who have no real hobbies and probably spend their days learning the importance of a word’s etymology from Greek to Latin to German. I think that means there will be a “T” in the word where there shouldn’t be. On the other hand, do the guys in the spelling bee suddenly become Lyle Lovett or David Coperfield, dweeby guys who end up getting the hot babes in their middle school? More importantly, what does it say about me that I used the phrase “hot babes” in conjunction with the term “middle school.”

And on a slightly related note, Official Brother said he was cheering for Saryn Hooks (pictured to the right, more on her later), the girl who eventually finished third because she was “the cutest.” Official Brother is a senior in college. Warrants mentioning.)

Making the broadcast even better is the fact that the losers (and really, aren’t they all losers) were interviewed and obviously had no social skills whatsoever. One kid was asked why he was able to do so well and he said, “I don’t know, God, I guess.” Good times.

Also, this year, the finalists were on stage with their parents sitting a few feet away. (And you know they were all sitting there thinking to themselves “For the love of God, don’t you embarrass me on national television.” I kept waiting for one of them to get their word wrong and break into a profanity-laced tirade that would end with security guards dragging the kid off stage while he shouted “Free Tibet.”

Making matters worse, when the kids misspelled a word, they had to go sit with their parents, only the organizers apparently didn’t think about the fact that the kids would need a chair. So they’d misspell a word, dashing their hopes and dreams for life (because let’s be honest here, this is the apex of their life. It’s all downhill from here. I’m actually surprised there aren’t more former spelling bee losers who end up homeless and addicted to sniffing glue on the streets while holding the sign “Will spell babism for food,” but I digress), but they were also forced to sit on the floor while those better than them kept spelling.

There’s comedy, there’s high comedy, there’s transcendent comedy, and then there’s watching kids have to sit on the floor because they misspelled a word. Very good times indeed.

But back to Saryn Hooks for a minute. She was at the center of the controversy in this year’s Bee. In the eighth round, she was eliminated after the word hechsher (a rabbinical endorsement or certification), forcing her to go sit on the floor.

However, during the commercial break, it was discovered the judges (the NATIONAL SPELLING BEE judges, had misspelled the word and the 14-year old Hooks had spelled it correctly.) Back into the competition she went.

When the judges can’t spell their own words correctly, it’s time to wonder why we even have the words in the English language. Honestly, do Jewish people ever say Hechesher anymore, or do they just go with “uh, yeah, what the Rabbi said.”

Unfortunately, we’ve got to wait another year before we get to experience the ups and downs, the highs and lows of the greatest spectacle in academia, the Spelling Bee. Next year, we’ll do a Fantasy Spelling Bee and then people like Alison will have a reason to watch.

Weekend Plans: This is my last post from my apartment. We closed on our house on Thursday and we’ll be moving in this weekend. Unfortunately, I waited until today to plan for phone service at the new place, so I’ll be without Internet access until Wednesday. Please don’t leave, I promise I’ll post again sometime next week when I get a chance.

House Update: Well, we’re in the house, but everything isn’t completely done. For example, we have dead bolt locks on the doors, only the keys they gave us don’t actually unlock the dead bolts. I realize you’re building a house and there are numerous things that need to be taken care of, but keys for the locks. How do you mess that up?
Crotchety Old Guy Corollary: Now that I’m a homeowner, I look forward to yelling at kids to get off my lawn. (Kids today with their iPods and Internets. Back in my day we had good, wholesome entertainment like MTV and Rap Music. What’s wrong today’s youth.)

Have a great weekend everybody.

I Hate Everything About You

2006-05-28T23:53:00.000-04:00

I never thought it would happen, so I wasn't exactly sure how I'd feel, but now that B*rry B*nds has passed Babe Ruth for second place on baseball's all-time homerun list, I can say I'm genuinely angry.

First of all, Bonds has cheated the game I love so much. Baseball was the first sport I ever remember watching with my dad, despite the fact that he was a bigger basketball fan at the time. In the fall of 1986, he let me stay up to watch the Boston Red Sox and New York Mets in the World Series, even though any sane parent would have told their seven-year old son it was too late and he needed to go to bed. While other kids were reading about dinosaurs and big trucks, I'd always get the baseball biographys at the library, learning to read on the history of Willie Mays, Jackie Robinson, Joe DiMaggio and Babe Ruth.

When Black History Month would roll around in school and we had to do a report on famous African-Americans, I would always pick Jackie Robinson. For Georgia History, while other students were picking Jimmy Carter or some other famous Georgian (and the fact that I can't think of one right now is not a ringing endorsement of the Georgia public school system), I was doing reports on the Georgia Peach, Ty Cobb.

Heck, when I was seven or eight, my mom told me to pick out wall paper for my room that I'd like 10 years later. I picked the wall paper with the logos of all the baseball teams on it for my room. Even though some of the logos had changed and there were new teams added, when I graduated high school, I still liked the wall paper I'd chosen a decade earlier.

When the players went out on strike in 1994, I swore I'd never go to another game again, but that was a bold-faced lie. It was too late by then. The game was in my blood. Sure, I was upset with the players for taking the World Series from me that year and basically forcing the executives at SportsCenter to fill an hour-episode with golf highlights and NASCAR, but deep down, I knew I'd be back. I can't help it.

I remember the first time I'd ever cried over a sporting event, in 1998 when the Cubs made their improbable run to the playoffs only to get swept by Atlanta. (Looking back, that was the year Sammy Sosa hit 66 home runs and I believe now he was juicing. But at the time, I didn't think twice about it. People far more intellegent than myself - which includes all of you reading - never suggested there was anything unnatural about Sosa, so why should I?)

In 2003, Yes Dear all but forced me to go to the Cubs/Braves playoff game in Atlanta, even though we couldn't afford it at the time. She knew how much the Cubs (and baseball) meant to me and she was going to make sure I had a chance to see the Cubs in the playoffs.

All this brings me back to B*nds. Today (well, by the time I finish this post it will be yesterday, but let's not argue semantics here), B*nds moved into second place in the greatest sports statistic in America. Ask a basketball fan how many points the second all-time leading scorer has and you'll likely get a blank stare. Ask a baseball fan what the number 714 means and immediatly they could tell you it was Babe Ruth's home run total.

Baseball stats mean something to people. They connect generations. Fathers and sons arguing whether Tom Seaver or Greg Maddux was a better pitcher, each finding the numbers to back up their position.

But now, B*nds has tainted that. Every player playing now is under suspicion of steriod use, even if there is no evidence to indicate he's using. Albert Pujols is in the midst of one of the best seasons baseball has ever seen, but in every conversation, someone utters the "yeah, but is he using?" question. Nevermind the fact that his body hasn't changed since he entered the league five years ago, that doesn't matter. What maters is that he's playing at the same time as B*nds (and Giambi and others) who have used steriods.

(And please don't give me the "well, B*rry's never tested positive so that proves he's clean. I've never been cited for speeding, but that doesn't mean I haven't - (Note to any law enforcement officers reading this, the previous "admission of guilt" is purely hypothetical.))

As expected, the fans in San Francisco cheered their hero. But around the rest of the country, we see B*nds for what he is, a cheater who has stolen a part of the game from the fans.

Even Yes Dear, who only became baseball fan in the last two years, is upset that B*nds passed Ruth. For the past three weeks, she's been yelling at the television to have the pitchers throw at B*nds head so he couldn't break Ruth's mark. I have to admit, I'm proud of her for trying to protect the sanctity of the game.

And yes, we'll move on to the next big controversy and finally get past B*rry B*nds soon, but one day in the future, my son is going to ask me about B*nds, and I'm going to have to explain to a little boy of seven years old why a man with immense natural talent felt the need to steal my childhood innocence by using performance enhancing drugs.

On Deck: I promise I'll get to the game that you and your significant other will play for hours on end, but the whole Barry Bonds thing was on my mind. Hope you had/have a great Memorial Day. Thanks for reading.

Happy Birthday to You

2006-05-22T17:27:00.000-04:00

I’m always late when it comes to trends. Just last week I learned the Macarena and I can’t stop. No wonder that craze swept the nation in 1996. Sadly, no one wants to do it now.

And speaking of being late with trends, apparently the latest blog trend is to enter your birthday into wikipedia and see what has happened on your birthday throughout history. Not that you were wondering what has happened on January 23, but in the off chance that you were, here you go.

Events:
1556 – The deadliest earthquake in the history of the world strikes the Shaanxi province in China, killing approximately 830,000 people. (We’re not off to a good start for this day.)

1570 – The assassination of James Stewart, 1st Earl of Moray throws Scotland into civil war. (Natural disaster and war, things need to get better quickly.)

1719 – The principality of Liechtenstein is created. (Now we’re talking. I like to think this moment was the beginning of the end of the Holy Roman Empire.)

1789 – Georgetown College becomes the first Catholic college in the United States (John Thompson was hired as basketball coach two years later.)

1849 – Elizabeth Blackwell is awarded her M.D. by the Medical Institute of Geneva, New York, becoming the first woman doctor in the United States. (China could have used her 300 years before this.)

1870 – U.S. cavalrymen kill 173 Native Americans, mostly women and children, in the Marias Massacre (Natural disaster, war, and human atrocities. The circle of death is complete.)

1904 – The Norwegian coastal town of Alesund is devastated by fire, leaving 10,000 people homeless. (Seriously, this is depressing me at this point.)

1941 – The Allies defeat Japan in Papua, which marks the turning point of the Pacific War and the end of Japanese aggression. (Did anything not involving death happen on January 23?)

1964 – The 24th Amendment is ratified. It prohibits poll taxes in national elections, but you knew that already.

1985 – O.J. Simpson becomes the first Heisman Trophy winner elected to the Football Hall of Fame. (And we all know how well O.J. turned out.)

1997 – Madeleine Albright becomes the first woman to serve as the United States Secretary of State.

Births:
1737 – John Hancock, American revolutionist. (Before him, people just put their signatures on documents.)

1857 – Andrija Mohorovic, Croatian seismologist (I just included him because I was unaware there were seismologists in Croatia.)

1915 – Potter Stewart, U.S. Supreme Court Justice

1950 – Richard Dean Anderson (MacGyver was born on my birthday. I’d hate to think how he escaped his mother’s womb.)

1964 – Mariska Hargitay, (A Law & Order: SVU star born on my birthday.)

1974 – Tiffani (Amber) Thiessen (Kelly Kapowski and I share a birthday.)

1985 - Doutzen Kroes (who might that be, you ask? Only a Dutch supermodel, which creates the perfect excuse to add her photo.)

Deaths:
1002 - Otto III, Holy Roman Emperor (I blame him for failing to give Liechtenstein its freedom earlier.)

1803 – Arthur Guinness (Yes, that Guinness.)

1937 – Orso Mario Corbino (yes, that Italian physicist.)

2005 – Johnny Carson

Weekend update: Friday afternoon, Yes Dear called and said she (and I) had forgotten that we’d agreed to design the set for the children’s play at church Sunday night. So when she got home, we went to work finding what we needed. We did as much as we could Friday night before going out to dinner. Saturday, I covered the March of Dimes and then we went back to finish setting up for the play. Saturday night we watched the Preakness (Sweetnorthernsaint, my horse, finished second) and then some friends were in town, so we went out to dinner. Sunday was (and is, until further notice) reserved for watching baseball.

Fantasy Update: Due to the poor performance of the Fighting Squirrels last week, I’ve asked Elizabeth Hurley if she wouldn’t mind coming to console me. Sadly, she hasn’t taken me up on my offer, which I desperately need after last week. The Squirrels (we didn’t put up much of a fight) went 5-10-1 in one league, dropping me to second place and going 4-9-2 to fall to fourth place in the other league. Needless to say, this is unacceptable.

House Update: With only nine days until we’re scheduled to close, we still don’t have carpet or tile, not to mention sinks and, (most importantly to me) a cable outlet in our den, which we now refer to as the “sports room” since that’s where I’ll be watching all my sporting events. It’s also the only room I’m allowed to decorate. Hopefully it’ll get done in time.

Cubs Update: Despite losing two of three to the White Sox, all anyone wanted to talk about was the collision between Cubs catcher Michael Barrett and White Sox catcher A.J. Pierzynski in which Barrett punched Pierzynski, leading to a bench-clearing brawl. After the collision in which Pierzynski ran over Barrett (cleanly, I need to stress), Barrett saw A.J. coming at him. Barrett bear-hugged him and then punched him in the face (which, by the way, is the official conflict resolution approach endorsed by Official Brother.) It turns out A.J. was going to get his helmet and Barrett overreacted. He’ll be suspended (rightfully) for about 10 games, I would guess and the Cubs continued season of frustration will continue.

American Idol Update: Well, we’re down to the final two. Katherine or Taylor. I’ve been disappointed each of the last two weeks as Chris and Elliot have been voted off. That said, I’m hoping Katherine wins, simply because she’s hot. I don’t think either of them has near the talent the past winners have had.

On Deck: A game you and your friends or significant other will be playing all weekend.

It’s Monday night, Put on the Barry White, break out your “Great Earthquakes throughout history” book, place your American Idol bets with your sweetie, discuss the rules of bench clearing brawls and when it’s time to make your move and she says she’s still broken up over the death of Orso Mario Corbino, it ain’t Barry White’s fault.

The three people you meet for dinner

2006-05-19T14:27:00.000-04:00

Suppose you could invite any three people in the world to join you for dinner. Who would those three people be and why? (I was going to say which four people, but I got lazy, sorry.)

When considering who I’d want to invite to dinner, there are several considerations to take into account. Obviously you’re not going to want to invite people who don’t get along. I don’t want to invite Tom Cruise and Matt Lauer and have my nice dinner turn into a debate about psychiatric care.

This would be my one chance to get three other people in a room to discuss all the things I’m interested in (and if you’ve been reading for a while, you know that basically boils down to sports, courtroom dramas and pretty girls.) With that in mind, here are the three people I’m inviting, and why.

Bill Simmons: ESPN.com columnist and pop culture guru is the cornerstone of my little get together. Able to speak semi-intelligently about issues ranging from Survivor to the importance of middle relief in today’s baseball. (Granted, ever since the Boston Red Sox won the World Series in 2004, he’s written considerably less about baseball, much to the disappointment of die-hard Simmons fans at the Sons of the Sports Guy website.

Despite that, Simmons seems like an incredibly down to earth guy who could carry on conversations about anything and everything and still make them funny and interesting is why I want him on board. Plus, if we became friends, he could start including the phrase “my buddy Luke” in his columns. Then I could garner some sort of cult following where deranged Sports Guy fans camp outside my house in the hopes of catching a glimpse of me. But I’d treat them like dirt and call the police on them because I’m a petty person who wouldn’t have time for the little people.

Erik Kuselias: Host of the Sports Bash on ESPN Radio (Monday – Friday, 4-7 p.m. Eastern), this former lawyer has one of the most entertaining radio shows on the air today. Insightful, humorous, and usually thought provoking, Kuselias’ show is the number one reason I get very little work done during the latter part of my day.

Featured in this USA Today article (second story down) Kuselias has said Simmons is one of his favorite columnists, so there’s no reason to worry they wouldn’t get along. Add to that the fact that Simmons filled in for three days on Kuselias’ show last year (he’s a much better writer than radio host), and you’ve got a solid start to our fun little party.

(And I forgot to mention that he ends his radio show every night encouraging his listeners to break out the wine, put on the Barry White. When it’s time to make your move and she brushes you back like a Roger Clemens fastball, it ain’t Barry White’s fault.)

George Will: Given my utter lack of discussion of politics on this site and the fact that I am neither a conservative nor a liberal, some might find it odd that I would want to invite noted conservative columnist George Will to the party. However, people seem to forget that Will is a huge baseball fan, even writing the book “Men at Work: The Craft of Baseball.” He also played a prominent role in the Ken Burns documentary “Baseball” which aired about a decade ago.

Sure, it’s a risk to invite someone with Will’s political background and knowledge to a party, but I’m hoping everyone follows the “don’t talk about religion and politics in polite company” rule. Besides, once Will and Simmons start debating the minutia of baseball, I’m feeling pretty good that I could sit back and soak up their knowledge of the game.

Weekend plans: I’ve got to work Saturday morning, covering the WalkAmerica March of Dimes (shouldn’t they be marching for quarters, or better yet, C-Notes? They’d raise more money that way.) Other than that, it’s probably a lot of packing and getting ready for the big move. We may go see The DaVinci Code at some point this weekend.

Minion Update: I’ve got a minion, but since I never actually thought I’d get one, I’ve got nothing for her to do. She is cleaning my desk at work this weekend, which is nice, but other than that, I’ve got nothing. Feel free to send any ideas I could make this 10-year-old do that won’t permanently scar her for life and that her mother (my co-worker) will let her do.

Cubs Update: We finally got Kerry Wood back yesterday. He pitched five innings, gave up four runs and the Cubs lost 5-3. We’re . . . uhhh . . . we’re not very good.

That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard update: Politician on lobbyists: "The baby Jesus accepted gifts, and I don't think it corrupted him." From here.

It’s Friday night, put on the Barry White albums, break out the George Will columns, devise plans for your minion with your sweetie while watching the Cubs lose. And when it’s time to make your move and she gives you the “I’ve got to get up early for the March of Dimes” line, remember, it ain’t Barry White’s fault.

What's the matter with Chicago

2006-05-15T19:01:00.000-04:00

Yes, that is a paraphrase of the book “What’s the matter with Kansas?” I haven’t read the book, but I wanted to show I’m not all about sports, despite this being a sports post.

One of my coworkers has a Volkswagan Jetta. It’s been trouble for her from the beginning. While there never seems to be anything seriously wrong with it, there’s always something wrong with her car to the point she’s ready to take a baseball bat to it and unleash some pent up frustration on her car.

One day the air conditioner may not work. Other times, something else isn’t working. Again, it’s never something so big that you can justify getting rid of it, but there’s always something going wrong.

Her car reminds me of the Cubs this season. They never seem to do one big thing to lose games (and they’ve lost 14 of their last 16 games as of today), but a series of little things contribute to this impressive display of ineptitude. They’ve been shut out five times in the past 15 games. Not good times.

In fact, things were so bad that last week, and ESPN.com columnist said that the Cubs were playing so poorly that they couldn’t even make good outs anymore.

It’s really frustrating watching a team make mistake after mistake of easily correctable things. Hit the cutoff man. Bunt the runner to third base. Don’t throw a fastball right down broadway to the other team’s best hitter.

I have no problem with physical errors. Those can be corrected. But we’re talking about mental errors that high school teams don’t make.

And I hear all the time that teams aren’t as bad as they seem when things are going poorly (just as they aren’t as good as they seem when things are going well,) but it’s just painful to watch the Cubs right now. (Even more so than usual.)

One of the ESPN writers was asked to talk Cubs fans off the ledge and the best answer Buster Olney could come up with is that the sun will come up tomorrow. It’s not time to throw in the towel quite yet, but the Cubs corner man has it in his hand just in case things get out of hand.

I guess the good news is the Cubs are off today, so we’re not going to lose.

Fantasy Update: Shania Twain hasn’t decided to take me up on my offer . . . I got nothing here, enjoy the Shania Twain photo while I describe the luck of the Fighting Squirrels. We had another mixed week, going 15-1 in one league to take over first place by half a game while going 3-11-1 in my other league to fall to third place. (Despite going 3-11-1, I would have defeated most other teams had I gone against them head-to-head, so I was encouraged, despite the loss. Over the course of the season, the statistics should catch up with chance and I’ll be ok.

Weekend Update: Friday night after work, Yes Dear and I went to a cookout with some friends. Saturday we went to Savannah to meet Yes Dear’s parents for lunch (an early Mother’s Day celebration) followed by furniture shopping. Yes, that makes two weekends in a row that I’ve gone furniture shopping (and two Mondays in a row that I’ve written about it. It’s amazing I still have readers with such riveting prose.) Fortunately, we found something we liked, so the next time I go furniture shopping, you’ll have long since stopped reading this. That night we went to dinner with my mom for Mother’s Day (we’re don’t need Hallmark to tell us when to celebrate.)

House update: Still scheduled for closing at the end of the month. My boss agreed to let me off early so I could actually go and sign the papers. Hopefully it’ll be done in time.

Minion update: A coworker’s daughter has agreed to be my minion. She’s eight, nine, or 10 years old (they keep aging, so I can’t keep track.) Anyway, while I was out of the office this weekend, she apparently drew up a contract for me to sign. Among the provisions of the contract are: (My responsibilities) – “I will take care of her/him,” and “I will do my best to be as evil as possible.” (Her responsibilities) – “I promise to be a good minion,” and “I will do my best to please my master.” (Apparently her mother’s ok with her daughter being a minion.)

On Deck: If I could have dinner with four people, who would they be?

Vote for the Nexus of the Universe. It's not a shrimp, but it likes to eat them.

13 things to do in 13 months

2006-05-11T22:37:00.000-04:00

Note: This column originally appeared in the May 11 edition of the Statesboro Herald.

My 10-year high school reunion is coming up in 13 months. In order to not be a total embarrassment, I decided I need to set 13 goals to achieve so I don't get jeered at my own reunion.

1. I need to win a prestigious award. Not something like third place for humor writing in 2005 for the smallest daily newspaper classification in the state in which (and I'm guessing here) only three people entered. No, I need to win something really big. Like a Pulitzer. Or Employee of the Month.

2. I need to write the great American novel. Actually, I really just need to start it so when people ask what I'm doing now, I can say I'm working on a book. Now all I need are characters, a plot and hours a day to devote to writing a best-selling novel. (Maybe I can just say I'm writing a book and stick to writing columns.)

3. I probably need to get in shape. And while "round" is a shape, it's probably not the one I should strive for. Fortunately, Yes Dear is a personal trainer, so I should be able to actually achieve this one.

4. Appear on either Law & Order or Baseball Tonight. As I'm neither an actor nor an athlete, I'm not feeling good about this. However, an acquaintance of mine was on Baseball Tonight by making a catch in the stands, so there's hope for me yet.

5. Not get fired. Granted, this has nothing to do with my reunion, but it is a goal of mine each day.

6. I need to travel the world. And by "world," I mean baseball stadiums along the East coast.
(Note: Official Brother and I intend to spend 10 days driving from Atlanta to Baltimore/Washington D.C. and then on to Philadelphia, New York and Boston next summer, visiting baseball stadiums in each city (and two in New York.) Should be a good time.

7. I want to be mentioned on Comedy Central's The Colbert Report. My best shot at this is to be featured in Colbert's "Who's Attacking Me Now?" segment. In an effort to garner his wrath, I present the following paragraph.

Colbert's brand of truthiness is a greater threat to this nation than bears, which he claims are Godless killing machines. One million bears set loose in the streets of New York City wouldn't do near the damage that Colbert inflicts with his nightly pronouncements.

(Please note, I think Colbert is a gifted satirist and don't actually believe he's a greater threat than bears. In fact, I've come to the same conclusion he has, that the bear agenda is destroying our country.)

8. I need to have a minion. If anyone's willing to cater to my every whim for little pay and no recognition, please email me. It's only a temporary job and after my reunion, you'll be summarily fired and given a poor review.

(Note: I have a coworker who volunteered her daughter to serve as my minion. This is the one I thought I'd have the most trouble with.)

9. I also need a haircut. Probably more than one. (It's always nice to sprinkle your list of goals with something easily attainable to keep you motivated.)

10. I'd like to be recognized on the street by a stranger just once without the person saying "you're that guy who writes for the paper, aren't you? You suck!"

(Note: In the version published in the Herald, I changed that last sentence to "Learn to write!" It's one of the drawbacks to writing for a small-town paper. I didn't think it made a huge difference to the column and didn't feel the need to fight for its inclusion.

11. I should probably win one of my fantasy baseball or fantasy football leagues. Ideally someone will ask me "What have you been doing with yourself?" and I can say that I've devoted my spare time to winning fantasy sports leagues. Saying I've dedicated my free time to fantasy sports without a championship would make me sound like a loser.

12. Despite columns I've written to the contrary, I would like to serve on a jury. If that doesn't work out, I wouldn't mind being called as a witness for some trial. In other words, I want to be involved in the legal process in some form or fashion, just not as the victim or defendant. It's as close to Law & Order as I'll ever get.

13. Finally, I'd like to have a really great cheeseburger. I've had some good ones, but never a cheeseburger that made me sit back and say "you know, I'll be telling people at my high school reunion about this."

(Note: I actually got an email the morning this was published from someone suggesting a cheeseburger I should try. She even offered to keep me company while I tried it. It is, by far, the strangest non-spam email I've ever received in my life.

Back in the USA

2006-05-10T11:11:00.000-04:00

The following intially appeaered in the May 10 edition of the Statesboro Herald. (note: I don't think I've ever posted a non-column that I've written, but I thought this turned out to be a good story. Don't worry, my latest column will be here no later than Friday.

FORT STEWART — Bryan Babot gave his wife a memorable anniversary present to celebrate their first year of marriage, even if it was a day late.

He was among the several hundred members of Georgia Army National Guard's 48th Brigade who returned Monday to Fort Stewart after serving nearly a year in Iraq.

Babot and his wife, NaStasha, were married on May 7, 2005, and approximately three weeks later, he was deployed.

"I'm elated to have him back," she said. "It's so great to see him."

Babot was one of between 500 and 600 soldiers from the 648th Engineering Battalion, based in Statesboro, and other units who returned to the United States after serving a yearlong tour of duty in Iraq.

Also among those returning was Chad Perkins, who had several family members there to greet him.

However, there was one person he still can't wait to see.

"I want to spend some time with my son," he said. "I've never seen him before."

Perkins mother, Brenda Alston, said Perkins' son is at Memorial Hospital in Savannah after being born premature.

Alston was one of more than 1,000 family and friends Monday at Cottrell Field on hand to greet the soldiers. Many came with a combination of signs, banners and flags.

She said she there were no words to explain what it felt like in the hours leading up to Perkins' return.

"Happy. Ecstatic. I can't wait to see him," she said as she and other family members waited for the soldiers to arrive from Hunter Army Airfield in Savannah.

Tamamara Hunter said she was "on pins and needles" Monday waiting for her boyfriend, Bryan Chavers to come home. "These last few weeks, I've been really nervous and stressful waiting for him," she said.

Making the wait even more difficult for families was the fact that the troops didn't arrive until nearly two hours after they were initially scheduled.

Because the flights of the 648th Engineering Battalion and the 148th unit from Dublin arrived one right after the other, the decision was made to combine the homecoming ceremonies into one event.

"I couldn't sleep last night," said Wanda Shaw, who was waiting on her husband, Johnny Shaw to come home. The extended wait was frustrating, she said.

"That's the Army. You hurry up and wait," she said.

In addition to her husband, Shaw's son is also serving in Iraq. He's scheduled to return in June.

Finally, at approximately 9:50 a.m., several busses with the soldiers drove past the field, leading to cheers and applause from grateful family and friends. The soldiers then lined up in formation and marched onto the field in front of an anxious crowd.

After the playing of the national anthem and the army song and some very brief comments, the soldiers were released and the crowd stormed the field to find their loved ones like fans running on to a basketball court following a big victory.

Lt. Col. Mark Davis, commander of the 648th, said the soldiers served admirably during their tour in Iraq.

"I couldn't be more proud of them and their families should be proud, too," he said.

In addition to seeing family members, there were other aspects of being home that appealed to the soldiers.

"I'm just excited to see grass," said Bryan Babot. "It's not the dirt and sand we've seen for the past year."

As well as rest and relaxation, Davis had another thing on his mind that he was anxious to experience.

"Food other than army food," he said.

Babot's father, Robert, was also among the returning soldiers and he, too, was looking forward to non-army meals.

"The first thing I want to do is relax," he said. "Then I want to go to my mother's and enjoy some good Cuban cooking," he said.

Despite being home from Iraq, the soldiers still have some things to do at Fort Stewart before they can return home for good. However, unlike other units, members of the 648th will be able to commute from Statesboro to Fort Stewart each day, provided they complete the tasks assigned for each day.

They are expected to return to the National Guard Armory within the next five to seven days where they will be released. A police escort from Fort Stewart to Statesboro is planned and plans are being made to have people line the streets of Statesboro as they return to express their appreciation for the job the soldiers did.

A community-wide celebration to allow people to give their thanks in person is currently being planned, but no date has been set yet.

I'm sorry

2006-05-08T17:16:00.000-04:00

Once again, there’s no introductory column before moving to the update portion of this blog. I had to wake up at 5:15 this morning for work and that’s pretty much zapped any creative juices I might have had today. (On the plus side, the event I had to cover was the return of the Georgia Army National Guard troops from Iraq. Sure, it was early, but that’s nothing compared to the sacrifice these men and woman – and their families – made over the past year. That ends the serious portion of this entry.)

I know I keep promising my new column from the Statesboro Herald, but as I’m writing it for them, they get to publish it first (especially since I write it on company time), so you’ll get nothing but updates today.

We here at the Nexus of the Universe apologize for any inconvenience caused by not having a longer post today. We know you hold us to a very low standard and when we can’t even reach that, we feel a small sense of satisfaction in knowing we’ve lowered the bar just a little bit more. Soon, you’ll be happy if I’m stringing words together. They won’t even have to make sense.

My ultimate goal for this blog is to get the expectations so low that I could write “Dog turkey budget incandescent hut lazily jumped acorn Motley Crew” and you guys go “well, at least he’s still writing words.”

Fantasy Update: Tanith Belbin hasn’t given up ice dancing to be the executive editor, proofreader and coffee girl of the Nexus of the Universe, but I’m thinking of doubling my offer to $.02 a week in the hopes that will lure her away from her lucrative Olympic career. In other fantasy news, the Fighting Squirrels had a poor week, perhaps due to the uncertainty surrounding the leadership of this blog. Whatever the cause, the Fighting Squirrels went 7-7-1 in one league to hold on to first place while going 3-12-1 in the other league, but remaining in second place. Obviously those are unacceptable results and we’re taking appropriate actions to see better results next week.

Weekend Update: Despite my request for suggestions, no one had anything for me to do this weekend. So on Saturday, I got a haircut and then watched television, including the Kentucky Derby. My pick, Bob and John, finished 17th out of 20 horses in the field, so needless to say, I’m not good at picking the ponies. Yes Dear and I also went furniture shopping Saturday (this is what happens when you don’t give me anything to do.) Sunday was an orgy of baseball as I basically watched games from 1 p.m. to 8 p.m.

Cubs Update: If you thought the Fighting Squirrels had a bad week, then there isn’t a word in the English language to describe the Cubs week. They are on a six-game losing streak, went 80 innings without scoring more than once in an inning, gave up a total of three runs in two games and lost both of them and generally made me question the existence of a benevolent and loving God. Needless to say, I’m less than pleased.
Related Indians Note: Cleveland is 17-15 and 5.5 games back. Fans of the Twins, Tigers and White Sox should be pleased I’m cheering for the Indians as my track record shows I’m not good at picking the winners.

I’m now part of the Problem Update: Until last week, I’d managed to avoid the whole Myspace phenomenon, but I finally gave in to the fad that the mainstream media has latched on to as the root cause of all problems in today’s youth. (It’s this decade’s version of video games, or Rock and Roll in the 1950s) Why would I do such a dastardly thing? Well, as I mentioned previously, my 10-year high school reunion is coming up and apparently Myspace is the best way to get in touch with people. Prior to last week, I could blame others for the downfall of today’s youth. Now, I’m part of the problem.
(Don’t worry loyal reader(s), my primary Internet wasting site will still be this blog. I’ve said as much on the Myspace page. You are still my first priority.)

Remember, friends don’t let friends go though life without reading this blog.

Home Sweet Home

2006-05-05T14:16:00.000-04:00

I’d hoped to have my latest Statesboro Herald column ready by now to post, but I’m still tinkering with it.

So instead, I’ll break down and do what I hate doing, which is giving an update about my personal life. (I’d much rather write about some topic tangentially related to me. I consider myself a boring person, and I actually live my life, so I can’t imagine how boring it would be to read about my life.)

Anyway, as of tomorrow (Saturday,) it’s one month until Yes Dear and I move into el Casa De Martin That means we’re always looking for boxes to pack stuff in.

Moving is not my favorite thing to do. More than the money I saved, it was the thought of having to move my stuff that kept me living at home during college. While Yes Dear moved every year (which means I got to help her move, three times), I stayed in one place. (For those of you lacking the Luke-to-English translator, that means I was and am lazy.)

In fact, this move next month will be only the third time I’ve ever moved in my life, including the time when I was four and really didn’t know anything more than I got to ride on an airplane.

For those keeping track at home (for whatever reason), this upcoming move will mean I’ll have moved an average of once every nine years. And two of the three moves will be across town.

I’m really not sure where I’m going with this, other to say I hate lugging all the junk I’ve accumulated to a new place to be stored until we move again.

So unlike Scott and Alison, who have stories of cross-country moves and the adventures that go with that, I’ll have a busy Saturday afternoon that hopefully doesn’t conflict with any minor sporting event I’d like to watch.

On the plus side, some college friends are moving to the area the week before, so we’ll have four extra hands helping us move. Granted, the weekend before, we’re helping them move, but it seems like a fair trade off.

With any luck, I’ll finish my latest column early next week (hopefully Monday) and I’ll post it here for you to not read while you’re skipping ahead for the Fantasy Update.

Weekend Plans: It’s graduation day at Georgia Southern on Saturday. What does that mean for me? It means I can get a haircut without waiting in line. (Good times.) Other than that, I’ve got nothing on my agenda. If you’ve got any suggestions as to how I could spend my weekend, please let me know.

House update: Cabinets are in. Carpet and tile are next. Still no cable in our den and it turns out it wasn’t a smoke detector over where our television should go, but the doorbell. Whatever it is, it hasn’t bee moved yet. I’m less than pleased.
Work Update: When suggesting weekend plans, please know that I’ve got to be at work at 6 a.m. (that’s in the morning. I know you know that, but I wanted to reiterate it for emphasis) to see members of the Georgia National Guard arrive home from Iraq. I’m not looking forward to it. On the plus side, I don’t have to work this weekend.

American Idol Update: Paris was finally voted off, giving us the final four of Elliot, Chris, Katherine and Taylor. The most talented singer is Elliot, but I think Chris will end up winning the competition. The talent level is kind of dissapointing this season.

Coming next week: My latest column and thoughts on my 10-year high school reunion, which is coming up next year. And, if I get enough time, why I could never be a sports reporter.

This post is brought to you by the Nexus of the Universe and is intended solely for the private, non-commercial use of our audience. Any reproduction, retransmission or other use of the pictures, descriptions of the account of this game without the expressed, written consent of the Nexus of the Universe is strictly prohibited.

No rest for the weary

2006-05-02T17:23:00.000-04:00

I’m kind of burnt out from work right now and don’t feel like writing, but I know you are all dying to know how things are at the Nexus of the Universe, so here you go.

Fantasy update: Jessica Simpson still hasn’t called me to talk about her breakup with Nick, despite my offer to listen and try to comfort her during this trying an emotional time. (Sure, she’s dumber than a sack of rocks, but it’s called “Fantasy Update,” not “Who I would like to discus Voltaire with Update.” I don’t judge the regular features on your blog, so leave me alone.) In other fantasy news, the Steel Rabbits had a pretty good week, going 8-6-1 in one league to remain in first place while going 10-5-1 in the other league to remain in second place. It’s still way to early to start planning the celebration, but I’ve inquired about parade permits from the police chief.

Cubs update: Despite being killed today, the Cubs are 14-11 and treading water until Kerry Wood and Mark Prior come back. We really miss Derrek Lee.

House Update: We’re scheduled to close on our house at the end of the month. We went by on Saturday to see it and we’ve got cabinets up. We’ve still got no cable hook up in our den and a smoke alarm directly over our television should go, but otherwise, things appear to be proceeding nicely. What impact will this have on you? Probably none, but the fact that the Nexus of the Universe is actually moving about five miles probably will have a seismic impact for scientists everywhere.

Weekend update: Friday after I got off work, I went to a friend’s house 90 minutes away for a game of Risk (the game of global domination) with some friends from college. I got screwed from the start and was never really in the game. I did manage to survive longer than one other person and finished fifth. However, I didn’t get home until 2 a.m. Normally this wouldn’t be bad, but I had to work Saturday morning because it was Yes Dear’s birthday. We ended up going to Savannah and walking down River Street with some friends. Sunday I worked early again so I could go to a church picnic and take part in one of the two softball games I play each year (I went 3-3 with a single, triple and home run for those of you scoring at home, or even if you’re by yourself.) I had to work again Sunday night and was completely exhausted and not feeling well when I showed up for work Monday.

Thanks for stopping by. Please remember the gift shop on your way out.

I choo choo choose you

2006-04-28T14:33:00.000-04:00

The following is expected to be in the April 29 edition of the Statesboro Herald

I don't know if you've heard, but there's this little thing known as the NFL Draft starting today.

According to all the sports media outlets, this draft's importance lies somewhere between Jackie Robinson breaking baseball's color barrier and Jesus Christ returning. ESPN has apparently decided to abandon all other sports news for the past four months in favor or reporting on this draft, which apparently will set the course of human events for the next 250 years.

Players are moving up and down draft boards because they ran the 40-yard dash a few hundredths of a second faster or slower than anticipated. I've been told the difference between a 4.38 time in the 40 and a 4.41 is significant. On a field that's 100 yards long, I'm not sure those .03 of a second are really going to make the difference between being a top-five selection and hoping Mel Kiper Jr. Draft Expert knows your name.

(And I haven't been able to get confirmation on this, but I believe Mel Kiper Jr. has legally changed his name to add "Draft Expert" at the end of his legal name. Every time he's introduced, he's called Mel Kiper Jr. Draft Expert.

On a related note, how does one become a "draft expert"? Is there a class? Is it like martial arts where you start out as "draft novice" and work your way up, making stops at "draft fan," "draft enthusiast," and "guy who knows a lot about the draft but isn't quite an expert yet." Someone needs to explain this before proclaiming himself as a "draft expert." I'd like to see some credentials.)

Fortunately ESPN has chosen to dedicate roughly 73 percent of it's air time to covering the draft, from reporting on how players did at the combine, what they scored on their Wonderlic Test and so many mock drafts that I'm thinking introducing myself as "Luke Martin, Mock Draft Expert" at parties. This way, I'll know all about players who may not make the team, but nothing about actual baseball games that count in the standings.

But all that is just the lead in to the orgy that is the actual NFL Draft. (Though, in true NFL fashion, it's technically the "NFL Annual Player Selection Meeting." I'd expect nothing less from a league that uses Roman numerals to designate its championship games.)

Beginning today at noon and for 27 hours over two days, teams will decide on a player, call a guy at a desk in New York whose only job is to write down the selection and hand it to a league official. Then, the commissioner (for the first round) or some flunky (for subsequent rounds) will read the name to a crowd of people who will boo the selection, no matter who it is.

I can't imagine anything more boring than sitting in whatever auditorium they're holding the draft and watching players’ names read off a card.

On second thought, I guess it could be worse. You could have to listen to Chris Berman, Michael Irvin and the aforementioned Draft Expert talk incessantly about a player's "upside" and "potential."

If I ever see one of them out in public, I would have to say there is huge potential that I would smack them upside their heads for subjecting us to the never-ending onslaught of draft coverage.

Making matters worse, teams are given 15 minutes between picks in the first round, meaning I could watch two baseball games and an NBA playoff game in the time it takes for all 32 picks in the opening round.

And for you draft fans that will feel a deep sense of sadness to the draft end Sunday night, don't worry. After you've forgotten all you learned preparing for this year's draft, another will be here to take its place next year.

Take me out to the ballgame

2006-04-24T17:46:00.000-04:00

Tonight, my big plans include sitting on my couch and watching the Cubs take on the Florida Marlins.

Not much different than any other night, you say? Well, you’re partially correct. From April to October, I generally watch baseball, and specifically Cubs’ games, most every night (except when we’re watching American Idol – Catch the McPheever).

However, tonight will be different. Instead of causally watching the game while flipping though Sports Illustrated, I’ll be paying close attention to the outfield seats, focusing primarily on the centerfield bleachers.

For tonight, you see, a little piece of me dies. While I’m home on my couch watching the game, Yes Dear will be at the game, seeing the holy shrine of Cubdom that is Wrigley Field. I hope she bought a cardinal from a local pet shop to offer as a sacrifice at the alter of all things Cubs.

Yes Dear has spent the past few days in Chicago at a conference (yes, she goes to a lot of conferences; and no, I don’t know exactly what each of them are for. I just know I need to have the house somewhat clean when she gets back.). The first thing she said when she found out she was going to the conference was ‘are the Cubs in town that weekend?” As fate would have it, they were in St. Louis during the conference, so she actually had to attend all the different sessions rather than playing baseball hooky.

Fortunately for her, the Cubs did return home for tonight’s game against Florida. So she’s spending an extra day in the Windy City to take in the game.

She brought her camera and extra batteries, so when she gets back, I’m sure I’ll find a way to put some photos here for all to see. (The trick will be finding pictures without her in them since she somehow believes someone could use my blog to track her down. She obviously thinks I have more readers than I actually do and that those readers care enough to track her down.)

In a related note, I was at the Relay for Life Friday night when my preacher asked where Yes Dear was. When I told him she was in Chicago and she was going to go to a Cubs game, he said that must be my definition of Hell. I think he’s right.

Fantasy Update: With Yes Dear out of town, it would have been the perfect time to have a cup of coffee with Ali Landry. (Quick side note, what was A.C. Slater thinking when he cheated on Landry at his bachelor party. Dude, you’re Slater, you can’t do any better than Ali Landry. You’re a disgrace to men everywhere. He never struck me as particularly bright on “Saved by the Bell” and the fact that he cheated on the Doritos Girl only proves that fact.) Unfortunately, Landry’s publicist never returned my phone calls, so we’ve yet to meet. In other fantasy news, The Fighting Squirrels had a mixed week, going 11-3-2 in one league, good enough to stay in second place, and going 4-10-1 in another league, but still holding a four-game lead over second place.

(Note: It’s far to early to start planning Fighting Squirrel championship parades, but if we win, you’re all invited to the celebration.)

Weekend Update: With Yes Dear out of town and all our money being saved for our down payment on our new house (more on that later in the week), I was left to watch baseball and essentially scout players from my fantasy team I’d never seen play. Sadly, I wasn’t invited to the Great Blogger Summit held Sunday afternoon.

Car Update: We had to take Yes Dear’s car to the shop Thursday afternoon. Fortunately, it wasn’t anything serious and I’ll be able to eat this week.

Cubs Update: Despite losing two of three to St. Louis over the weekend, the Cubs are still 10-7 and only 2.5 games behind Houston in the National League Central.

Indians Update: Apparently I’ve cursed the Indians as well as they lost two of three to the lowly Kansas City Royals. Tribe fans, I forgot to mention I tend to curse the teams I cheer for. Sorry.

If you’re reading this and haven’t contributed to the Nexus of the Universe Fund to buy me a new flat screen television, you’re no better than a common thief. Thanks for nothing. Well, thanks for reading, but nothing else.

Tell me why

2006-04-21T15:48:00.000-04:00

Note: Cubs first baseman Derrek Lee fractured his wrist Wednesday night. What follows is my open letter to the baseball gods.)

Dear baseball gods,

This is the first letter I’ve ever written to you, so I’m not sure if I should be writing to you or the baseball arch-angels. I apologize if this is out of the chain of command, but I have a few things I need to inform you of and felt this open letter was the best way to get in touch with you.

First of all, I’d like to say I think you’ve done a wonderful job with the game. When you gave man the inspiration to develop the game nearly 150 years ago, I doubt us mortals would have thought it would still be going strong. Despite our best efforts to ruin your great creation (racial segregation, steroids, playoff games ending after kids are sound asleep), you have blessed us with a game that has withstood the test of time.

Also, for the past four years, you’ve allowed us to marvel in Ichiro and Albert Pujols. I believe these two players are not human like me, but instead are Hurcules-type half-man, half-god creature roaming among us mortals to remind us of your power. Thank you for letting us witness their exploits.

Despite the wonderful things you’ve done with the game, I can’t help but notice you have a cruel sense of humor and enjoy toying with us humans in a way that makes Oedipus Rex look like Women of the Thesmophoria. How else are our simple minds expected to comprehend Bill Buckner, Steve Bartman or the Tampa Bay Devil Rays.

This last point leads me to the thrust of my correspondence to you. You seem to take an inordinate amount of joy in pulling an Abu Gahrib on Chicago Cubs fans, torturing us until we can’t take any more. (Note to my earthly readers: Too soon for a torture joke?)

In a recent post on my blog, I compared being a Cubs fan to being in an abusive relationship. However, I may have merely been ignoring the most obvious fact of all, the baseball gods enjoy our suffering and keep coming up with new ways to add to our pain.

You sent the Cubs an amazing talent in Kerry Wood. We marveled at his ability to make hitters swing and miss. You even guided him to strike out 20 players in a game. And then you cursed his career with injuries. Then, in what looked like a gift from your alter, you sent us Mark Prior. We humans marveled at his talent and this time, you teased us even more by giving him perfect mechanics. And yet, he’s also hurt, including a line drive off the elbow that could only have happened because you enjoy our wailing.

But this year, with the golden boys out with injuries, we were playing well at the beginning of the year. The Cubs had yet to lose two games in a row and Derrek Lee was enjoying a good start after an amazing year last year.

But in your desire to continue our suffering, you deemed it necessary to have Lee break his wrist and miss two to three months.

So I’m here to beseech you; what do you want from us? What offering do you demand to lift this black cloud that hovers over this team. Is it beer? Descend to our planet and enjoy a game in the bleachers of Wrigley Field and taste your nectar. Is it devotion? My work suffered this week as I stayed up as late as possible to watch the Cubs play on the West Coast.

Please, baseball gods, I beg of you. Tell me what I can do to alleviate the pain and suffering. What sacrifices can we, as Cubs fans, make to appease you? Just please, ease our pain.

Tempted by the fruit of another

2006-04-17T17:46:00.000-04:00

I don’t often go looking for temptation. It usually has a way of finding me without much trouble.

So that’s what makes my upcoming odessy so uncharacteristic of me.

I’m actively seeking out a partner to cheat on my significant other with.

And more importantly, Yes Dear is fine with this and has offered to help me look.

As I’ve mentioned before, my parents got me MLB Extra Innings for Christmas, which gives me access to 97 percent of all televised Major League baseball games this year, give or take a few.

Readers here at the Nexus know my long-time love affair with the Cubs. Granted, based on how they’ve played for the past 20 years, it’s more of an abusive relationship, They lose and lose and then, just when you think you’ve had enough, they go and make the playoffs and make you think everything’s going to be alright, so you give them a second chance.

Given all the choices of games to watch, I’ve found myself paralyzed at the thought of trying to decide whom to watch when the Cubs aren’t on. I’ve tried flipping between several games that have an impact on the Fighting Squirrels, but that leads to chaos and threats from Yes Dear to beat me to death with the remote control.

So I decided I needed a second team to cheer for. Someone I could watch when the Cubs weren’t on that would get me emotionally involved in the game. After all, if you’re not emotionally or financially invested, what’s the point of watching. And since I can’t afford to gamble, I’m left with becoming emotional involved in the games.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not looking to leave the Cubs. Far from it. Instead, I’m looking for a “Friend with benefits” that I can have a good time with that won’t interfere with my Cubs’ commitment.

To do this, I had to lay out some ground rules to narrow my search.

First of all, my second team has to be an American League team. I don’t want a team that will face the Cubs on a regular basis. By picking an American League team, the most I’ll see them is six times every three years in Interleague play. I can deal with that.

Second, the team has to be likable. I’m not cheering for the Yankees (and if you cheer for the Yankees, please take a few minutes to evaluate your life and determine if it’s really worth living if you’re going to be a New York fan. Seriously. I’ll wait.). In the same vein, I’m not rooting for the Red Sox either. They’ve got some wonderful media coverage in the past few years that portrays them as the plucky underdog against the Yankees, but Boston’s payroll is the second-highest in baseball.

Based on those two criteria, I’ve managed to narrow my choices down to two teams: The Cleveland Indians and the Oakland A’s.

Cleveland:

Positives: I’ve got three of their guys on my various fantasy teams. They’re a young team with likable, exciting players. Their announcers are pretty good and while they’re biased towards Cleveland, they’re not so much so that it gets annoying to listen to.

Negatives: Aside from the political incorrectness of their mascot, one of the biggest things going against the Indians is they’re located in the Eastern Time Zone, meaning most of their games will be played at around the same time as the Cubs games. What’s the point of having a second team if you can’t watch them?

Oakland:

Positives: Like Cleveland, they’ve got a lot of good, young players. I like their General Manager, Billy Beane. (You know you really like a sport when you have favorite team executives.) I haven’t seen many of their games yet, so I don’t know about their announcers.

Negatives: I have a job that generally likes when I show up on time, so can I stay up to 1 p.m. on a regular basis to watch their games that start at 10 p.m. Eastern time. The answer to this question is that I could do it, but by Thursday, I’d be falling asleep at my desk with all my stories including the following: “At Thursday’s meeting the city counjkl;aslllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll”

(Quick aside: I couldn’t imagine living on the West Coast and not having late-night sports as an option. Games are over by 10 p.m. on the West Coast and then what? Do people out there have better sleep habits because they can watch all the games and still be in bed by 11 p.m.? What do you do when you can’t sleep? This fascinates me.)

So who am I going with? Well, objectively, I should probably take Oakland. I could watch them more often and could get into their games without having to flip to their games only during the commercials.

But my heart tells me to go with the Tribe. So when the Cubs aren’t on, go Indians.

Fantasy update: If Catherine Zeta-Jones is the patron saint of the Fantasy update, Jill Hennessy is the chief priestess. She still hasn’t taken a leave of absence from her show to come to Statesboro for my interview request. In other fantasy news, the Fighting Squirrels are off to a blistering start, winning one league 15-0 and the other 11-4-1. Both teams are in first place after two weeks, which means the only place to go from here is down.

Cubs Update: The Cubs are 7-4 right now and only one-half game out of first. Kerry Wood should be coming back in the next month, as should Mark Prior. If they continue to play as well as they have when Wood and Prior get back, the Cubs could be really good this year.

Weekend Update: Yes Dear and I took wallpaper down on Saturday. About two-thirds of the way though the process, I told Yes Dear we’d never have wallpaper in another home we own. She agreed..

House Update: We’re about six weeks from moving into our new house. The exterior is all done, including the driveway. Now all we need is stuff like carpet, plumbing, sinks, counters.

Thanks for reading. Now get back to work.

The good, the bad, and the ugly of the Masters

2006-04-12T22:32:00.000-04:00

Note: The following column appeared in the Thursday, April 13 edition of the Statesboro Herald.

I try to live my life by a code of ethics and rules to guide me though life. Rule number 32 is "If I attend the Masters after not writing a column for eight months, I write a column about my experience."

And since I was in Augusta for the golf tournament last weekend and haven't written a column since last July, I'm obligated to recap my time there. (By the way, rule seven is "Never sell your car for gas money.")

Instead of my typical "running diary" style to document my two days (Friday and Saturday) at Augusta National, I'm going with a new format.

The Good

By attending on Friday, we were able to see everyone playing the tournament, as opposed to seeing only those who made the cut. That means Official Brother and I got to see golf everyman John Daly before he faded into oblivion by failing to make the cut.

Also, we got to see David Duval play. Other than the fact that he was once the world's top player, the only reason this resonated with me is because I have a friend with the same name.

Another "good" from the trip was we knew what hole we were on. Last year, Official Brother and I spent most of the day thinking we were at the ninth hole when, in fact, we were at the second. (Needless to say, we are not what you would call "golf enthusiasts.")

On Friday, we sat at the ninth hole, thus completing the circle of life.

And for the second year in a row, we were complimented on our seat selection. Last year, two guys came up behind us and mentioned what a great spot we had to watch the players. This year, on Saturday, we sat at the sixth hole and also had a great view of the 16th green. Several people said we'd picked a good place to see a lot of action.

We may not know much about golf, but apparently Official Brother and I have a knack for picking good seats.

The Bad

Despite having great seats on Saturday, we didn't get to enjoy them much due to the rain that moved through the area. It's like having Catherine Zeta-Jones agree to go on a date with you, but then having to leave midway though the appetizers because she's feeling sick. (More on this later - the rain, not a date with Catherine Zeta-Jones.)

Also making the bad list is the fact that I don't know anyone in Augusta and therefore had to wake up before God to get there early enough to snag good seats.

I can assure you that waking up at 5 a.m. on Friday to drive to the course was not the highlight of my week. Making matters worse, on Saturday they didn't let anyone in until 9 a.m., a full hour after they normally open the gates. So we had to sit in the parking lot for 90 minutes instead of catching up on some much-needed slumber.

And perhaps the worst thing to happen during my time in Augusta, for the second year in a row, I didn't achieve my quest to meet ESPN announcer Scott Van Pelt. Some people want to cure cancer or travel to all 50 states in their lifetime. Not me, I'm hoping to meet a television personality at a golf tournament. (Note: His brother is shown on the left.)

And for some reason, some people think my priorities are out of whack.

The Ugly

As I mentioned earlier, it rained on Saturday. We knew it was going to rain. All the weather reports said water falling from the sky was a near certainty.

So did Official Brother and I bring an umbrella? Nope. Not only that, but we didn't even think to bring one. Thousands of people walking into the course with umbrellas and all I had was a windbreaker.

The lesson, as always — I'm an idiot.

Also making the list is golfer Tim Herron. Not so much for his play (he finished tied for 36th place), but for the fact that he was smoking a cigarette while playing.

Can you imagine LeBron James running down the court smoking or Michael Vick in the huddle with a cigar sticking out of his helmet? Golf truly is a strange game.

Speaking of athletes, the true athletes at the Masters are the caddies. Official Brother and I decided against walking the entire course in one day due to fatigue (granted, we're miserably out of shape), but the caddies had to walk more than four miles lugging their golfers clubs up and down the very hilly course for four days.

Those poor guys get no credit for the work they do. Not that any of them will read this, but a tip of the hat from me to them for their hard work.

Working for the weekend

2006-04-11T17:16:00.000-04:00

Due to the fact that what I would normally put here will be published in the paper on Thursday, you'll have to wait until then to read it. However, that doesn't mean it's not update time.

Weekend update: Went to The Masters on Friday and Saturday (more on that Thursday). Sunday, Yes Dear got back from her weeklong conference in Kentucky. Fortunately, we had enough food in the house that I knew how to cook that I didn't die. Once again, my survival skills will be put to the test in 10 days when Yes Dear goes to Chicago for five days. If you don't hear from me, call the police to make sure I didn't die.

Cubs update: Despite losing today, the Cubs are 4-2 on the early season. If (and it's a big IF,) they can stay in the race for the first month to month-and-a-half, the Cubs pitchers Kerry Wood and Mark Prior can get healthy and they could compete. So far Derrek Lee has picked up right where he left off last year, Matt Murton and Ronny Cedeno are playing well and everyone not named Glendon Rusch is pitching well. So far, so good.

Fantasy update: The patron saint of the Fantasy Update, Catherine Zeta-Jones has yet to find a reason to call me. Maybe I need to libel her in my column so her lawyers can call me and we can set up a meeting. In other fantasy news, the Fighting Squirrels had a good week, winning 9-6-1 in one league and 9-5-1 in another. (For the dedicated readers, you may notice I only reported on two leagues. The third league is a bit more complex in terms of scoring, and it's a season-long race. Add to that I'm basically playing for next year and you'll understand why I don't regularly update that league.)

Weight-loss update: After losing 14 pounds (mostly due to the fact that Yes Dear was working 70-80 hours a week for two weeks and, therefore, not cooking, I'd lost 14 pounds. Sadly, I've gained four of those back, but I'm still down 10 pounds from late February.

Thanks for reading. See you Thursday. Pass this on to 10 people to increase my hit counter by 10.

Pretty Woman

2006-04-04T21:41:00.000-04:00

I have a confession to make. I know that by admitting it, I'll become the outcast of the civilized world and will be ruthlessly mocked for what I'm about to write, but I can't help it.

I like NBC's "Deal or No Deal."

Typically I like my game shows to require a modicum of mental dexterity. I'm usually pretty good at single Jeopardy, I think I could get to at least the $125,000 level on "Who Wants to be a Millionaire" wouldn't be the first person voted off of "Weakest Link."

But unfortunately, Deal or No Deal doesn't require any kind of intellegence beyond the ability to speak and recognize numbers one through 26.

If you haven't seen the game, here's a quick primer. There are 26 cases filled with dollar amounts ranging from one penny to one million dollars (enough to pay off Dr. Evil should the situation arise.) At the beginning, you pick one case to be yours (you don't know the amount inside the case.) Then, you pick a series of cases and knock those totals off the board. Intermitently, the mythical "banker" (really just a guy in a room who looks important. The fact that someone gets paid to be the "banker" is perhaps the greatest example of American gluttony in our society, but I digress.) offers to buy your case based on the totals remaining.

There's some probablity calculations needed to make the best decision possible, but basically you stand there and pick numbers. That's the game. (It makes "Press Your Luck" look like the test to get into Mensa.)

What I've failed to mention thus far is that the cases are tended to by models, all of whom are very attractive ladies. (This, friends, is known as appealing to a target demographic. In this case, it's males between the ages of 10 and dead.)

So how does the fact that models are standing next to the cases play into any possible strategy for the game? It's simple.

There should be two simple plans of attack when it comes to picking your cases:

1. Pick the numbers of the least attractive models first and continue accordingly so that only the prettiest girls remain as you go through the game.

The thinking here is that if you're going to be playing a game of chance, you might as well have the most attractive women possible still around. Sure, you have about as good a chance of actually impressing any of the ladies to the point that they'll remember your name, but on the plus side, every male watching the show will appreciate you looking out for them.

2. Pick the numbers of the most attractive women first and continue so that in the end, only the least pretty (and by no means are any of them ugly) remain.

The reasoning behind this plan is that the producers will know that guys like to look at pretty girls and would opt to keep them around as long as possible. By placing the higher values in the cases of the less pretty women, who would likely be picked first and then ushered off the stage, the producers would be betting you would pick them first and knock out lower your chances of a big pay day.

And that, my friends, is my strategy of playing "Deal or No Deal."

NCAA Brackets update: I finished either first or second in every bracket I participated in this year (ranging from four people to a dozen or more.) I'd like to tell you I had a foolproof plan that ensured my high ranking, but basically the brackets were so screwy that I think I lucked into my position. Either way, I'll bask in the glow of knowing I can pick random NCAA basketball games better than most of my friends.

Cubs update: As of 10 p.m. Tuesday night, the Cubs are 1-0 and on pace for an undefeated season. Call me crazy, but I don't think they're going to go 162-0 this year.

Random Cubs note: I was reading the Cubs messageboard today when I came across a few postings by the Cubs announcer, Len Kasper. The fact that he's willing to associate with the "little people" says a lot about him. I knew I liked Kasper for a reason.

Weekend plans: I know it's a little early for weekend plans, but I'm going to the Masters on Friday and Saturday. Now I follow golf about as much as I follow the East African politial situation, but when you get a chance to go to the Masters, you take it. If I had the chance to see a Puccini opera at Carnegie Hall, I'd go to that as well, despite the fact I can name one opera. (La Boheme, but I did have to Google the spelling.)

Fantasy update: The Fighting Squirrels are off and racing (errr. . . fighting), I'm expecting decent things from the squads this year. (Check back next week for the first fantasy girl of the new season.)

As always, thanks for reading. Tell your friends and have them tell their friends.

Wake me up when September ends

2006-03-29T21:00:00.000-05:00

I believe that song will become the offical theme song of the Cubs for generations to come. Usually they'll wait until May or June to be wishing for the end of the season, but I'm pulling it out in March. As you can tell, I don't have high hopes for Chicago this year.

Well, it's that time again. (No Pinky, it's not time to take over the world, we'll do that tomorrow night.) With baseball season just around the corner, it's time for my annual preseason preview of the Cubs, complete with position breakdowns, unrealistic expectations and comments that I'll look back on in six months and wonder what I was smoking when I wrote them (as well as trying to remeber where I can get some more of whatever I was smoking.)

Last year's team was a disappointment, finishing 79-83 and in fourth place, behind the St. Louis Cardinals (who had the best record in the National League), the Houston Astros (the NL representative in the World Series) and the Milwaukee Brewers (WHAT?!? We finished behind a team that is perenially one of the worst in baseball?!? How is that possible? Why am I asking so many questions?!?)

As usual, injuries took their toll on the team, particularly Mark Prior (a line drive off his elbow that had some people initially thinking his career was over), Kerry Wood (more shoulder problems. At this point, he's going to break Joan Rivers' record for most surgeries), and Nomar Garciaparra (who ripped his groin muscle from the bone. That hurts just writing it.)

Sadly, this year appears to be no different. Three of our starting pitchers will start the year on the disabled list (Prior, again, Wood and newcomer Wade Miller.) We're starting two guys with less than 100 days experience in the major leagues and our right fielder hits left-handed with less success than Stewie Griffin's attempt to kill Lois.

So here it is, my preseason breakdown of your 2006 Chicago Cubs:

1B. Derrek Lee - One of the lone bright spots for the Cubs in 2005, Lee won the batting title with a .335 average and was in contention for the Triple Crown for most of the season. He also played stellar defense at first base and emerged as a team leader this past offseason. While expecting him to duplicate his success from 2005 is a bit much, if the Cubs have any chance this year, he'll have to hit at least .320 with 35 home runs and 125 RBI. His RBI total from last year should increase with newly acquired Juan Pierre leading off. Last year the Cubs' leadoff hiters had the lowest on-base percentage in the league, limiting the damage Lee could do while at the plate.

2B. Todd Walker and Jerry Hairston Jr. - Trade rumors swirled around Walker all offseason, but as of now, he's still a Cub. The left-handed hitting Walker will be competing with Hairston for the starting job and while the team has said Walker will be starting, it's anyone's guess as to how long that will last. Hairston, acquired from Baltimore for Sammy Sosa last year, played centerfield last year, but his natural position is second base.

SS. Ronnie Cedeno - Cedeno played well during his brief stint in the majors last year. He's a smooth-fielding shortstop who doesn't have much pop in his bat. In other words, he's the Anti-Nomar. As long as he plays well in the field, he should get the majority of the playing time, though Cubs' fans fear Neifi Perez may get to play. God help us all if Perez sees action in more than 50 games.

3B - Aramais Rameriz - The Cubs front office should hope the Pirates don't press larceny charges against them for acquiring Rameriz for the equivilent of a watermellon and Garden Claw. When healthy, A-Ram can hit .320 with 40 homers and 120 RBI. Unfortunately, he's had leg injuries each of the last two years. He sat out of the World Baseball Classic to make sure he was healthy. More than anyone, Rameriz is the key to the Cubs offense. He's a difference maker when he's in the lineup.

LF - Matt Murton - When the Cubs traded for Nomar in 2004, Murton was a throw in. Two years later, he looks like the steal of the trade as he appears to have a bright future ahead of him. He'll struggle in his first full year in the majors, but many of the experts are projecting a .280, 20, 80 season. He's going to be a good player for the next seven to 10 years with the Cubs.

CF - Juan Pierre - Like Angels outfielder Vladamir Guerrero, Pierre has two names that don't seem to fit. Nomenclature aside, Pierre was the Cubs top offseason acqusition. He struggled in 2005 with a .326 onbase percentage, but most people expect him to rebound to a more respectable .350 or higher OPB. Provided he has a typical Pierre year, he could steal 50 bases and score 100 runs for the Cubs.

RF - Jacque Jonew - Another offseason acqusition, Jones has tremendous potential, but little plate discipline. He hit over .300 in 2002 and 2003, but has seen his average decline each of the past two years. An excellent defender, Jones should dramatically improve the Cubs defense. However, unless he learns how to hit left-handed pitching, it could be a long year for Jones.

Starting Pitching - As usual, everything hinges on the phrase "if healthy." Kerry Wood and Mark Prior begin the year on the Disabled List and there's really no timetable for their return. Best case scenerio, they return by May and solidfy the Cubs' staff. Carlos Zambrano doesn't get the credit he deserves, but over the past two years, he's been the ace of the staff. If he can harness his emotions just a little bit, he'll be dominating for years to come. Greg Maddux turns 40 this year and is adequate, but nothing like his glory years in Atlanta. The rotation rounds out with Glendon Rusch, Jerome Williams and either Angel Guzman or Shawn Marshall, two rookie studs who "if healthy" will be really good. However, the Cubs pitchers have about as much a chance staying healthy as I do of becoming the next Dave Barry.

Relief Pitching - The Cubs should be infinately better than last year with the addtion of Scott Eyre and Bob Howry added in the off season. Ryan Dempster is reliable, but he makes things intersting with his high WHIP (walks + hits/innings pitched). Sure, he saved 33 of 35 games last year, but that streak can't continue unless his WHIP comes down.

I'm expecting a slight improvement from last year but not enough to get the Cubs into the playoffs. Somewhere between 82-85 wins and a third place finish sounds about right.

NCAA Brackets - I need UCLA to win to secure victory in my office pool. I've already won my family league. If UCLA wins and Florida loses (come on George Mason . . . go fighting, errr, Masons), I win the blogger madness.

What I'm reading - Thanks to DC Brother, I'll be reading "Fantasyland" for the next week. It's about one man's quest to win a fantasy league filled with experts (I'm sure they don't have a Fantasy update feature in their league.

Weekend plans - My final fantasy draft Friday night, working Saturday and Sunday.

Miracle Drug

2006-03-16T16:13:00.000-05:00

DC Brother wrote me about a week ago and asked me for my take on the Barry Bonds situation.
After spending a week listening and reading various points of view, I've come to the following conclusion about Bonds.

He's a cheater, plain and simple. He's done hardcore steroids for the past several years, beginning in 1999 and continuing for years.

He's an insecure, jealous little man. (Figuratively speaking, that is. Literally, he's a beheamoth of a man who could crush me in the way a normal-sized man crushes those packing peanuts.) According to two books, Bonds turned to steroids because he was upset at the attention Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa (who were both probably using steriods, as much as it pains me to say that) were getting for their great home run chase.

While Sosa and McGwire hit 66 and 70 home runs in 1998, Bonds had 37, which is a good year. But Bonds was so enraged that players he deemed to have less talent than he did got all the attention, he vowed to do something about it.

According to the new book "Game of Shadows," Bonds reported to training camp in 1999 with 25 pounds of muscle packed on to his body. Now I'm far from what you would call a "weight-lifting enthusiast," but even I know there's no way to add 25 pounds of muscle in a four-month period without a little help from the juice.

When the books first came out, there were many people, including voters for the Baseball Hall-of-Fame, who said Bonds' statistics prior to 1999 were good enough to warrent his inclusion into baseball's most hallowed ground. He did become the first player in history to hit 400 home runs and have 400 steals in a career.

But then ESPN's Eric Kasilius (my favorite ESPN Radio host,) pointed out that just because you were good enough before you started cheating doesn't change the fact that he cheated. It's the equivilent of a teacher catching a student cheating on the last page of a 10-page test, but since he'd gotten everything on the first nine pages correct, the teacher gives him an "A." That wouldn't happen, and it shouldn't. If you cheat, you're a cheater, plain and simple.

But Luke, Bonds has never failed a drug test.

I don't care. The circumstantial evidence is so damning in this case that anyone with any reasoning and logic skills can see Bonds used steriods, he knew he was doing it (unlike his public claim that he thought he was using "flaxseed oil." I don't know what you use flaxseed oil for, but I'm fairly certain you don't use inject it with a needle), and when his trainers told him he needed to cycle off the drugs for a few days for his health, Bonds told him to F#%@ off and he'd do it himself.

As if cheating isn't bad enough, Bonds is the worst kind of cheater. He didn't use steroids because he wanted to be a better player. He used them for spite. He couldn't stand that someone else was getting the attention he thought he deserved.

Nevermind the fact that Bonds wasn't going to ever be beloved by the public due to his personality. He's antagonistic with the media and since they're the people who help shape your image, it's in your best interest to at least be polite to them. He's also got a persecution complex that makes the Christian Right seem well adjusted.

But Luke, it's all a witch hunt after Bonds because the media doesn't like him.

That may very well be true. But that doesn't change the fact that hundreds of documents were examined by the "Game of Shadows" authors to draw their conclusions about Bonds, including calenders with notations of when Bonds used what drugs.

And let's be honest here, Bonds and Jason Giambi are the only two major stars still playing that were suspected of steroid use. And Giambi basically appologized without appologizing for his past.

McGwire essentially hung himself during his testimony in front of Congress last year in which he repeatedly said he wasn't there to talk about the past, causing the public to turn on him faster than a fat kid turns to the dessert menu.

Sosa and Palmerio are out of baseball now, both without the goodwill and public support they enjoyed during most of their playing days.

And Bonds is only eight home runs away from passing Babe Ruth for second on the all-time homerun list. Of course he's going to be the focus of the media.

He wanted the media attention when he started taking steriods in 1999. Now that he's got it, he can't very well complain that he doesn't want the media attention. After seeing the response of the media when they found Andro in McGwire's locker (it has since been banned by MLB), Bonds had to expect people would be digging into this past and wondering why he suddenly was able hit 73 home runs in a season.

It appears MLB is launching an independant investigation into Barry Bonds. The sooner he's banished from the game, like Pete Rose, the better the game will be.

Desultory fact that made my day (Part One): An email I wrote to Dan Patrick on ESPN radio was read on the air.

Desultory fact that made my day (Part Two): Yes Dear called me at work and asked why CBS was doing its usual bang-up job of broadcasting the NCAA Tourney. With under 10 minutes to go and #2 seed Tennessee trailing, we still weren't seeing the game. The fact that this upsets Yes Dear is a giant step forward in our relationship.

Why I haven't posted in a while: Yes Dear is off this week. I normally write when she works late, but when she's home, I don't have a chance.

My Final Four: UConn, Duke, Boston College, UCLA

Fantasy update: One draft done, two more to go.

What you should be reading instead of this: http://ussmariner.com/2006/03/12/bugs-bunny-greatest-banned-player-ever/

Have a good weekend everyone. With thousands of blogs to choose from (including those that are updated much more regularly), you picked mine. I appreciate it, but also suggest seeking professional help.)

It's a mistake

2006-03-06T17:18:00.000-05:00

Yep, a Men At Work song. And yes, I had to Google it to find the appropriate blog title.

There are some injustices in the world I'm willing to overlook. Catherine Zeta-Jones not winning an Oscar (though her marriage to Michael Douglas is hard to take), Screech not getting the recognition he's due from his Saved by the Bell years, and Pauly Shore not being banished from film-making for eternity are just a few I'm willing to let slide in this crazy world.

But there comes a time when you've got to take a stand and say "enough is enough." That time was last week, but because I was busy with other stuff and then had friends in town this weekend, I've had to wait until now to actually address it.

Last week, a special committee voted to induct 17 people from the Negro Leagues into the Professional Baseball Hall-of-Fame, something that was long overdue, but nevertheless, a great honor for those selected.

Note: Before anyone starts calling me a racist for the phrase "Negro Leagues," I'm just using the phrase that African-Americans use in referring to the league. It was around before Jackie Robinson broke baseball's color barrier and paved the way for the multi-cultural game we know today. Now, back to your regularly scheduled outrage.

However, in their infinite wisdom, the committee managed to overlook the most deserving candidate of all, Buck O'Neal.

Now I don't know a lot about O'Neil (I had to Google his name to make sure I spelled it correctly.) To the average person, they couldn't tell Buck O'Neil from John Candy's Uncle Buck.

I couldn't tell you a single stat from O'Neil's playing days. (To be fair, stats from the Negro Leagues aren't very accurate because there was very little news coverage of the games. And when there was coverage, it was often buried in the back pages of the sports section.

O'Neil was, however, the first black coach in the Major Leagues (with the Cubs, of all teams) and was an excellent scout. He discovered Hall-of-Famer Ernie Banks (who also played with the Cubs) among others.

But aside from O'Neil's playing and coaching accomplishments, (whatever they are), they pale in comparison to why he should be included among the game's immortals.

For year's Buck has been an ambassador for the game while helping keep alive the memory of the Negro Leagues. In fact, of the 17 Negro League players and owners elected to the Hall-of-Fame, none of them are still living.

When noted film maker Ken Burns produced a massive documentary on baseball, it was O'Neil who stole the show. Without O'Neil, I wouldn't know that "Cool" Papa Bell was so fast he turn off the light switch and be in bed under the covers before the room was dark.

He's probably the most well-known of all the players who spent their entire career in the Negro Leagues, despite the fact that others were probably better players.

So is Buck angry that he wasn't selected to be in the Hall-of-Fame? Not in the least. In fact, Buck has agreed to give the induction speech at the ceremony for the other 17 inductees.

In a recent interview, O'Neil said he'd be upset if he never had the chance to be inducted, but because he was considered for induction, he holds no ill-will towards the Hall-of-Fame.

Sadly, this year is the last year O'Neil's name was up for consideration. Baseball people far more intelligent than me are trying to find a way to get O'Neil in the Hall-of-Fame. I hope their successful. To have a museum dedicated to the history of the game and not have Buck O'Neil included would render the Hall-of-Fame practically useless.

I shudder to think that when I bring my son to the Hall-of-Fame, Buck O'Neil's story wouldn't be told. And that, my friends, is an injustice that needs to be rectified.

House update: They were putting shingles on the roof today. And also, the lot next to our's was bought, so we won't have construction going on next to us after we move in.

Fantasy update: I joined my third and final fantasy baseball league of the year. (Quick Poll: Do I bring back the fantasy girls for the fantasy update or no? Readers, I'm leaving it up to you.) Also, I'm drafting for my first league on Wednesday.

Van update: No, I don't own a van, but for the past week or so, a van has been stuck in the mud at a house in our neighborhood. They got it out yesterday.(What kind of idiot parks his van in the front yard when a heavy rainstorm is coming? Hopefully the type of idiot that doesn't read this blog.)

Thanks for reading. Next post later in the week or Monday at the latest.

Centerfield

2006-03-01T19:51:00.000-05:00

I’m as big a baseball fan as pretty much anyone I know. So when the World Baseball Classic was announced, I was stoked. (Sorry, I’m still trying to get the snowboarding vibe out of my system . . . stupid Olympics.)

Essentially, this was billed as the World Cup of baseball, only without the soccer hooligans. (And with the game out of the Olympics beginning in 2012, this was supposed to soften the blow of being kicked out of the greatest international sporting event ever devised.) Sixteen teams representiting 16 countries to determine the best baseball country in the world. (Alright, 15 countries and Puerto Rico, which I believe is a protectorate of the United States, but I digress.)

(Seriously, we in the United States need to have more fun at our sporting events. In nearly every other country on the planet, fires break out in the stands, people bring drums and trumpets and essentially throw a party for the duration of the game. The United States contribution: The Wave. I'm so ashamed of my country.)

But a funny thing happened on the way to the tournament. Players started dropping out. Not that I could blame them as the WBC is scheduled to begin Thursday. You see, the 18-day tournament is taking place right in the middle of Spring Training. As a fan of the Cubs, I’m hoping and praying that the Cubs players don’t get hurt in this thing. If Carlos Zambrano throws his arm out, I’ll be less than pleased.

And I’m just a fan. I can only imagine how the owners, managers and other players are feeling watching their teammates play in the WBC.

It’s like having Heidi Klum agree to go on a date with you, but only after undergoing experimental plastic surgery on her face that has a 40 percent chance of permanent disfigurement. (And yes, I am that superficial, thanks for asking.)

So one by one, players have been removing themselves from the rosters of their respective countries, citing a variety of reasons from injury to lack of preparedness to plain old just wanting to stay with their team (you know, the team that’s paying them millions of dollars.)

However, famed Los Angeles Dodger manager Tommy Lasorda views things differently. (Lasorda also happens to manage the United States team in the tournament.) He’s told any media outlet willing to listen that he thinks it’s a disgrace that players wouldn’t want to play for their country.

“I've seen a couple of guys who were asked to play and they turned it down. They turned it down? I don't like that one bit. I think you owe something to your country," Lasorda said last week.

Now I’m not to question a man who has won a World Series and an Olympic gold medal, but I’m going to question this man.

What are you thinking? It’s not like these countries are asking their citizens to sacrifice to support a noble cause. They’re playing baseball. Let's not act as though this is some grand, transcendent moment like the 1980 U.S. Olympic hockey team. If we're using that analogy, we'd be the big, bad U.S.S.R. and the other countries are just waiting for a chance to knock us down a peg.

Somewhere along the line, Lasorda mixed up playing a game with some sort of national obligation to your country. Sure, it would be great if the United States team won. Truth be told, I’m kind of pulling for the Dominican Republic team to do well. I like their players more than the United States’ players, even without Manny Rameriz playing.

(Seriously, Jeff Francoer is on the United States’ team. After starting out hitting everything in sight for a month and a half, he fizzled during September and October, hitting something like .237 over the last five weeks. You’re telling me he’s one of the best 30 players the United States has to send? Who’s in charge of putting this team together, Isiah Thomas?)

Now I’m off to go do my civic duty as an American. I’m going to learn about the candidates seeking our nation’s highest office, then I’m going to vote in American Idol.

House update: As far as I know, they're still building it.

Cubs update: Still undefeated. (We could go all the way if this keeps up.)

Hostage update: Statesboro is still hostage free since January 17.

Blog update: Look for another post on Monday.

Thanks for reading. With thousands of choices, you picked me. It's like you're Lisa Simpson giving me a Valentine's Day card with a train that reads "I choo-choo choose you." I always appreciate it.

So long, farewell.

2006-02-27T18:48:00.000-05:00

Goodbye curling, we hardly knew you.

For the better part of the past two weeks, I'd come home from work and immediately turn on CNBC, not because I've got any financial knowledge that needs to be expanded, but because they were the only channel showing Olympic events at 5 p.m. Eastern Time.

And while they were showing Olympic events, they weren't showing events that were sure to be a huge ratings draw. They were showing curling.

It took me three days to figure out the basics of the game (I'm not real quick.) Essentially, you get a point for every stone that's closer to the center than you opponent's stone.

Matches generally last about two-and-a-half hours. (I believe that's what they're called. It could be games, or contests. I'm not really sure. Then again, I didn't know what point the brooms had until the beginning of the second week of the tournament) So I was enjoying curling long after Yes Dear got home and said "Why are you watching this?"

By the medal rounds, she didn't even bother asking any more. She'd just sit down and suffer though the final four "ends" (they're similar to innings, and if you don't know what an inning is, you probably don't need to be reading this blog).

I, meanwhile, was waiting for the skip to throw an out-turn draw to the four-foot to score two. Or, I'd want the third to throw a double with the hammer to blank the end.

In other words, I got caught up in the curling hysteria that was sweeping the nation. (Seriously, I didn't intend the pun. It's really bad. I'm sorry you had to read it. I'm even more sorry that my mind came up with it.) I enjoyed watching it. Given the chance, I think I'd enjoy playing curling, especially with my newfound knowledge.

Sadly, it'll be another four years before I see curling again. No more in-turn draws. No more guards. No more watching non-English-speaking teams shouting what I can only presume are words of instruction to the sweepers. Somehow I will have to fill the void in my life created by the excitement-filled world of curling.

A better person would spend the next four years studying ancient literature, doing charitable works for the less fortunate and conditioning my body though exercise. Instead I'll play fantasy sports, watch American Idol (bring back Becky!) and generally do my best not to be a huge detriment to society.

So farewell curlers. It's back to obscurity for you. (Well, except for those female curlers who posed nude for a promotional calendar. Your fifteen minutes of fame still have a few more ticks on the clock. And sorry guys, you'll have to find those pictures on your own.) But when I sweep my kitchen floor, I'll remember you. When I slide down a sheet of ice directing a 42-pound stone towards a 12-foot circle in an attempt to get my rock closer than my opponents, I'll think of you.

See you in Vancouver in 2010.

Weekend update: Friday, Yes Dear and I went to a party at a friends house for oysters and a low-country boil. A good time was had by all. Saturday, we'd planned on going to the Georgia Southern baseball game, but it rained all day, so we didn't do anything fun. Sunday we celebrated Official Brother's birthday (it was actually Saturday, but the Official Girlfriend of Official Brother couldn't make it to celebrate, so we did it a day late.)

House update: We have a frame and a roof. Yes Dear is already planning out how she's going to decorate.

Pre-Fantasy update: I'm drafting in March for three different teams. In other words, I'll be cheering for virtually every player in every game and against every player in every game.

Cubs update: The Cubs are still undefeated in 2006. Sure, there is more than a month until the season begins, but I've got to enjoy this while I can.

Next Post: Either Wednesday or next Monday.

How sweet it is (to be loved by you)

2006-02-15T18:20:00.000-05:00

Contrary to what you might think by the title, this post has nothing to do with Valentines Day, Yes Dear or anything you would normally associate with the song title.

Instead, I want to write today about the seven sweetest words in the English language that don't include "Catherine Zeta-Jones is at your door."

No, I'm referring to "Pitchers and catchers reported to Spring Training."

(But if you picked "The Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue has arrived," give yourselves partial credit.

Today, our long, national nightmare is over. Baseball is back, taking my attention away from Yes Dear, household responsibilities, work, health, friends, family and all the other things I pay attention to from November to mid-February.

Today, the Cubs aren't in last place. (Check back in three months for an update on this)

Today, my fantasy teams aren't devastated by injuries, age and poor general managing skills.

I'm looking forward to countless hours watching the Cubs blow eighth-inning leads, watching my fantasy players be suspended, one by one, for steroids and generally having my love for the game sucked away ounce by ounce during the summer.

So with the season but a few weeks away from beginning, I'd like to give a "Tip of the Hat" or "Wag of the Finger" (Stephen Colbert style) to some off season moves.

A Tip of the Hat to the Cubs for acquiring Juan Pierre, one of the game's top leadoff hitters. According to Chicago play-by-play announcer Len Kasper (who watched Pierre as the Marlins play-by-play guy), Pierre instantly makes the Cubs better. Kudos Cubs management.

A Wag of the Finger to the guy who abandoned his fantasy team last year and left me with a heaping pile of dog doo to choose from. You see, during the offseason, I agreed to join a keeper league fantasy group. For the uninitiated, a keeper league allows you to keep a certain number of players from your previous team from year to year. Tom Cruise gave more attention to the SI swimsuit issue than the previous owner gave to his fantasy team. (And yes, I joined the "I made a Tom Cruise gay joke" club with my previous sentence.)

A Tip of the Hat to my parents for getting me Extra Innings on my satellite package this season. I'll now have 97 percent of all baseball games available to watch all season long. I can only imagine this is how Jesus feels when he wants to watch a baseball game. (We all know the New York Yankees blackout their games in heaven, forcing God to attend the game if he wants to see A-Rod play.)

However, A severe Wag of the Finger to my parents for quadruple-handedly trying to sabotage my marriage to Yes Dear by getting me Extra Innings. You're never going to get that grandchild you want if you give me baseball games to watch from 7 p.m. to 2 a.m. each night.

My final Tip of the Hat goes to Yes Dear, for agreeing to give me a sports room in our new house. I get to decorate it with posters and jerseys and bobble heads.

And the final Wag of my Finger goes to the Major League Baseball schedule maker for having the Cubs only trip to Atlanta be in September, when we all know the Cubs will be out of playoff contention. For shame on that guy.

Unrelated Wag of my Finger goes to the Statesboro Convention and Visitor's Bureau for not having a banner on their webpage proclaiming "Statesboro: Hostage Free since January 17." (And yes, I stole this idea from Official Brother.)

Thanks for reading. With millions of choices out there, we know you could have wasted those last five minutes elsewhere, but you picked here.

Home Sweet Home

2006-02-12T14:20:00.000-05:00

Yes Dear and I are taking the plunge.

No, not the Nestea plunge (though that always looked relaxing). Instead, after nearly three years of living in our two-bedroom apartment that is becoming increasingly cramped, we've begun the process of getting a house.

After spening several months looking around (and being in limbo waiting to find out if she'd get the job at Georgia Southern, we settled on a three bedroom, two bath home in a new subdivision here in town. It's also got a one-car garage and a den that Yes Dear is graciously letting me have as a sports room. (i.e., it's the only room I get to decorate.)

It won't be ready until the end of May, so we've still got 3.5 months where we are now, but Yes Dear is enjoying driving by the site (it's a little more than a mile from where she works) and watching the progress. She came home one afternoon and exclaimed "we've got plumbing."

Yesterday, she came home and informed me we had a slab of concrete down, so slowly but surely our house is going up.

I guess this means we'll be part of the American Dream of owning a home. I'm just excited to get out of our apartment.

Who are you

2006-02-02T22:18:00.000-05:00

Hey guys and gals, remember me?

I'm the guy who used to post regularly on his blog but then abandoned it for several weeks and now expects to have people reading it again.

I'd like to give you a valid reason as to why my blog has been neglected lo these many days, so I'll give you one: I was busy finding a cure for male pattern baldness.

Unfortunately, that's not actually true, but it would have been valid. The truth is I got lazy and spent my time reading other people's blogs and other stuff on the interweb. (They've even got entire sites on this here internet devoted entirely to sports. I wish someone had alerted me to that earlier in life.)

You might think that with so many days between postings I might actually have something to write about that would be worth your time, but the fact is I don't. You see, after I finished reading "Three Nights in August," I started reading "Last Night of the Yankee Dynasty" and now that I've finished that, I've moved on to "Moneyball." And because I realize that most of you A.) aren't huge baseball fans and B.) don't want to read some two-bit hack's review of baseball books, I'll spare you a lengthy review.

So what am I going to write about in my less-than-triumphant return to the blogsphere? I'm going to answer two questions posed by fellow bloggers on their sites recently.

1. If you had to put five songs on an iPod to send to aliens in another galaxy, what would they be?

Alright, that's the short version of the question, but since Scott put so much thought into setting up his hypothetical interlude, I figure I should send you his way to get the full question.

Before I answer, I think it's ludicrous to assume that sending five songs on an iPod to aliens in another galaxy would allow them to learn anything about life here on Earth? First of all, while music is able to convey emotion better, books would be the way to go if we wanted our new iPod-loving overlords to understand our little planet. (And for the record, I, for one, welcome our new, iPod-loving overlords and look forward to their musical reign.)

Secondly, the idea that the aliens would be able to glean any information from songs in English is absurd. Sure, they may be able to pick up a rhythm and even perhaps replicate the sounds, but it would be meaningless to them. It would be the equivalent of having never heard Chinese and then getting five random songs from China with no way to interpret them. I wouldn't know anything more about the Chinese culture after listening to the songs than I did before.

Despite all that, I'll go along with the game and give you my list:

1. "We Didn't Start the Fire" - Billy Joel. What better way to give our alien overlords a glimpse into what they're taking over than to send them a brief history of the world. Sure, they may not understand it, but at least they could land and start screaming "I can't take it anymore!"

2. "American Pie" - Don McLean. Since we covered the history of the world (Part I) in song number one, why not give a quick lesson in the musical history since rock and roll began. The rampant symbolism may get in the way of their true understanding.

3. "Imagine" - John Lennon. No musical gift to our new alien friends would be complete without something from a former Beatle.

4. "Pride (In the Name of Love)" - U2. Probably the most powerful U2 song (though I could be persuaded by "Sunday Bloody Sunday") and another way to offer a glimpse into what the aliens are coming to take over.

5. "I'm too Sexy" - Right Said Fred - Could there be anything funnier than our new alien rulers walking around saying "I do my little turn on the catwalk, yeah on the catwalk, yeah. I shake my little tush on the catwalk."

Question 2: If I were forced to pick one network (of ABC, CBS, Fox and NBC) to watch and forgo all the others, which would it be?

At first glance, many of you are going to assume I'm taking NBC simply because they show "Law & Order." I'm tempted to do that. And because I haven't actually made up my mind yet, let's walk though the choices.

ABC: Plus side: Desperate Housewives, College Football (though the BCS Games are on Fox now) and not much else. I didn't realize how little I watch that channel.
Negative side: Freddie, Dancing with the Stars.
There's a better chance of Teri Hatcher calling me for a date than there is of me picking ABC in this contest.

CBS: Plus side: How I Met Your Mother, Big Brother (Yeah, I said it), Survivor, March Madness, NFL games, Criminal Minds.
Negatives: Only SEC football, I can't get into CSI.

FOX: Plus side: American Idol, MLB games, NFL games, BCS Football games, Simpsons, Family Guy
Negatives: Only two hours of prime time broadcasting, it's the same network that aired "Who wants to marry a multimillionaire?"

NBC: Plus side: the Law & Order franchise, My Name is Earl
Negatives: Everything else (Seriously, have you seen their shows? I think Family Guy said it best when they were showing an NBC sign that read "We used to have Seinfeld, remember?"

So of that motley crew, who do I take? Well, I think I'm going to have to go with CBS.

See you again soon and, as always, thanks for reading.

TNT (the AC/DC song, not the television channel)

2006-01-19T17:30:00.000-05:00

About a week ago, I interviewed our new Convention and Visitors Bureau director who said she wanted people to stop asking where Statesboro was when people mentioned the town.

On Monday and Tuesday, she got her wish, though probably not the way she wanted people to find out.

You see, around 9:15 Monday morning, a man and his wife took his former attorney hostage in his office in downtown Statesboro. As word of the hostage situation spread, more and more media outlets began to converge on our little town to cover the crisis. In fact, two of my coworkers were on the national news, one on CNN and the other on FOX News, despite the fact I was the first reporter on the scene.

At about 9:30 on Monday, Chief Bossman walked into my cubicle and said there were police officers outside with guns and bullet proof vests on and I should go see what was going on.

The reporter in me was exicted. Guns and bullet proof vests are the things Pulitzers (or at least Peabody Awards) are made of. The rational, sane part of me looked at Chief Bossman and said "All I've got is a pen and a note pad. Don't you think I need a little more if the police have bullet proof vests on?"

He told me to be careful and sent me on my way.

As luck would have it, the police were stationed about a block from my office, so I walked up the street to the scene and saw two officers standing at either end of a building, both with guns drawn and looking intense.

I made eye contact with the officer near the back of the building and made a motion to ask if it was alright if I came up to talk to him. He motioned for me to walk towards the back of the building and then cross the street to talk to him.

When I got there, I asked what was happening. He told me there was a hostage situation inside one of the offices across the street from the courthouse. I stood with the officer (for the life of me, I can't remember his name) and listened in on his police radio as the instructed the hostage takers to answer the phone to talk to the negotiator.

After about 15 minutes, the officer said I could probably get a better view if I went up to the front of the building (but on the other side of the street.) I did that and stood over there, looking cautiously at the front of the building where I saw a car parked in front of the office as a baracade.

Then, the officer at the front of the building told me I may want to move as there was a chance I could be caught in the crossfire if the hostage takers came out firing. That was enough of a warning for me to back away quickly and find a safer place to stand.

At around 11 a.m., the call went out to send all media to City Hall where I'd spend the next 12 hours milling around, waiting for press conferences and basically hoping something would happen. I met the Savannah media people and basically waited around for something that wasn't going to happen that day.

At around 5 p.m., I went back to the office and wrote a couple stories about the days events and listened to one of our reporters being interviewed on CNN. (A surreal experience. Making it even better is they misidentified him on the screen, calling him "Jack" instead of "Jake.")

As the standoff dragged on, the gallows humor of journalists began to take hold of the throng of media assembled. We began speculating what kind of headline we would use if the attorney, named Michael Hostilo, didn't make it out. (I think media people have such a twisted sense of humor because they need a defense mechinism against the crap they see so often.)

Quick note: If you're easily offended, skip the next paragrah. You've been warned.

After tossing out a few suggestions, one of the local television reporters suggested "Hostilo-Vista" (I know, we're all going to Hell. But it's funny (the joke, not the going to Hell part.))

Finally, after a 10 p.m. news conference (carried live by at least Fox News and maybe others) I went back to the office, updated a few stories and went home for the night, hoping nothing would happen before I got back there around 7:30.

Unfortunatley for me, something did happen. At 6 a.m., the two suspects and the hostage had come out, apparently surrendering. Something happend (no one knows officially) and gunshots were exchanged. No one was hurt, but the hostage-takers retreated back into the office.

When I got there at 7:30 and found out what happened, I was disappointed I wasn't there for it, even if I wasn't be able to see anything.

Finally, at 10 a.m., police announced the hostage-takers surrendered and the hostage was unharmed. Statesboro's 15 minutes of fame was over. The media trucks all left and by Wednesday morning, you wouldn't have known anything out of the ordinary had ever happened.

Have a great weekend all.

Any song by "Three Dog Night"

2006-01-13T23:22:00.000-05:00

Hello and welcome to the first-ever Nexus of the Universe book review. Unlike people who actually majored in English and have a firm understanding of pacing, plot development, character development and other literary terms that I try to use to sound smarter than I really am, I don't actually know enough about those things to comment on them.

No, instead I'm going with the former Supreme Court Associate Justice Potter Stewart method of determing if a book is good. I know it when I read it.

With that said, here's my review of Buzz Bissinger's "Three Nights In August"

Guys like me with no talent in either baseball or sportswriting will never get to the feeling of what it's like to be on a Major League baseball team. From the day-to-day grind of the 162 game season, broken up in numerous three-game series in one city before flying off to the next three-game series.

Fortunately for people like me, St. Louis Cardinals manager Tony LaRussa was a fan of Bissinger's previous work and gave him virtually unfettered access to his team during the 2003 season and what he produces is a fantastic look into not only the life of a professional manager, but also to the insights of a man who has won more baseball games than all but two other people in the history of the sport.

Bissinger is perhaps best known for his book Friday Night Lights which looked at the frenzy that surrounded the 1988 Permian High School football team deep in the heart of Texas. He uses the same writing technique in both books, using events that transpire during the course of the series, (or, in the case of Friday Night Lights, over the course of the season) to go off on tangets about the players or other people involved.

We learn about the almost total devotion LaRussa gives to the game, often at the expense of his family who lives on the West Coast without their father and husband for most of the season, seeing him only on off-days and when the Cardinals make their West Coast swing.

More than just a decision-maker during the game, Bissinger paints a picture of a man who spends more time trying to find the right buttons to push to maximize the talent and effort of his players, from the bench player who thinks he should be starting everyday to the kid with all the talent in the world who seems content to make his millions rather than fulfilling his potential.

And while fans may suggest dropping a player in the lineup if he's slumping or moving a guy up in the lineup who may be going through a hot streak, LaRussa explains that certain hitters are just more comfortable hitting in different places. Moving a guy from sixth or seventh into the fourth or fifth spot may not seem like a big deal, but different hitters change their approach based on what they think is expected of them.

Making the book more enjoyable for me was the fact that the three-game series Bissinger uses to go off on his tangets was against the Cubs. Given that the book is about the 2003 season (the year the Cubs came within five outs of the World Series . . . curse you Steve Bartman), it was a chance to relive some of the good old days, even reading about players who were gone after the season that I'd forgotten about.

To be sure, the book is written for someone with a deep understanding of the game and not the casual fan. However, Bissinger writes in such a way that casual fans will finish having a greater understanding of the pressures and decisions a manager and his staff have to deal with.

I don't have any cool rating system to evaluate the ins and outs of the book. I use a much simpler equation in grading a book.

Did I like the book? In this case, the answer is a resounding yes.

(Also, I'd recommend Friday Night Lights to anyone interested high school athletics, regardless of the sport. I got the feeling reading it that the events he described in that book could very well have been written about my high school football team.)

Weekend plans: While many here in the United States have a long weekend to celebrate the legacy of Martin Luther King Jr, I don't. In the interest of keeping my job, I'll refrain from any Kanye West jokes.

Blogging Update: Somehow, I managed to miss the one-year anniversary of the founding of the Nexus of the Universe. I'd like to thank all you for making this one of the places you waste time during your busy work day. I hope to contine to be a destination for people who should be working but would rather read what some guy in South Georgia has to say about who from the Law & Order franchise he wants prosocuting his case if he's murdered in New York City.

Have a great weekend and I'll be back soon with another post.

The next five minutes

2006-01-09T15:56:00.000-05:00

Growing up in a house with two brothers, there were certain things that took on added importance that families with one or two children may not think about. There was always trying to get the biggest piece of chicken (this especially became important when we all started playing sports and our already rapid metabolism shifted into a gear I'll never see again without the help of crack cocaine) or getting to the breakfast table first so you could get the section of the paper you wanted. (I always wanted the sports while DC Brother preferred the comics. Unfortunately, there were times when the sports were on the back of the comics and thus, bickering ensued. The Parental Units did not like those mornings.)

Those things paled in comparison to the mother of all important things as a child . . . retaining your seat when you got up to go to the kitchen or bathroom.

As you can imagine in a middle class family of five, seating was at a premium when it came to watching television. There were a couple of really comfortable seats, a few adequate seats, and then seats you took because there was nothing left. In fact, when Christmas rolled around, there were only four seats so we could make room for the Chirstmas Tree.

(That, in a nutshell, is how Official Brother came to be known as "Floor Boy" during Christmas. He was in charge of passing out presents on Christmas morning, which at eight or nine is the coolest thing in the world. When he had to do it this past Christmas at 21, not so cool anymore.)

So whenever one of us would leave the comfortable seats, another of us would inevitably move in to take the better seat. Everyone would move up one slot and the person who had to visit the little boy's room would end up out of luck.

It was a fine system and everyone understood the consequences of going to get a drink during the commercial of The Fresh Prince of Bel Air.

But over time, my parents decided this wasn't a fair system afterall. I think it was when they got fed up with losing their seat to answer the phone or somethng like that. The instituted a rule that has continued on to this day and I, in fact, almost expect it when I'm a guest at someone else's home.

The decided that once you established your seat and then got up, you had five minutes in which you could come back and reclaim your chair. If you need to go to the bathroom and get a drink, it was no longer a problem. You didn't have to lose your seat just because you answered the phone only to have it be a wrong number.

Over time, a series of subsections were added to the so-called "Five Minute Rule." You could gain an additional five minutes by simply parking your rump in the chair for a second. Should a dispute arise, an impartial observer (namely, someone not involved in the dispute) would determine if five miuntes had actually passed. There was also no minimum time needed to sit in the seat to invoke the "Five Minute Rule." You could finish dinner, make a break for the living room before starting the dishes and lay claim to your seat. Then, within the next five minutes, simply take a break from cleaning up, go renew your five minutes, and then resume cleaning up, thus ensuring you had a good seat after dinner.

In the begininng, you had to invoke the Five Minute Rule when you got up, signaling to everyone your intention to return in five minutes. If you got up and didn't say "five minute rule" as you got up, you lost your rights to the chair.

As you can imagine, this led to disagreements as to if they actually said it, especially if you weren't in the room at the time, so over time it became implied. If you left and came back within five minutes and someone was in your seat, all you had to do was invoke the rule and they were obligated to give you your seat back.

It also introduced speed showering into our household. Though done more as a matter to see if it could be done rather than an actual desire to retain the rights to the seat. (For the record, it can be done, but it's not something you want to do if you want to ensure you're actually clean.)

So now, when I go visit friends, I always have to remember that they're most likely not as odd as we are and they'll actually let you keep your seat when you go get a coke.

Feel free to take the rule and apply it to your household if you need to. You can even pass the idea off as your own if you want to. Think of it as my little way of trying to spread peace throughout the world.

And because I've been gone for a while, here are several updates to make up for my absence:

Christmas update: Christmas was busy as we left on Dec. 23 to visit the Official Inlaws of the Nexus of the Universe outside of Charleston, South Carolina. We got there around 8:45 p.m. after a three hour trip and then proceeded, at the request of Yes Dear, to tour Christmas lights (apparently one of her favorite things to do around Christmas.) We then went to bed and celebrated "Christmas" on the 24th. I got a shirt (which I'm actually wearing today, not that you can see me), some pants and a Cubs' pullover that's really nice. Among the gifts Yes Dear recieved was a Kitchenaid Mixer (apparently it's a good mixer. I think Rachel Ray uses it on her show.)

We left that afternoon to make it home in time for our church's Christmas Eve service and then to my parents for the annual viewing of "A Muppet Christmas Carol." Following that, we brought the presents out and put them under the tree. Yes Dear and I then went home, only to wake up at 7 a.m. to go back to my parents for Christmas morning. Among the gifts we got were an iPod (for her) and a subscription to MLB Extra Innings (for me, though Yes Dear is excited about it as well.) I also got a book from DC Brother (which I finished already, no small feat for me since I'm not exactly a "reader.)

New Year's Update: The day after Christmas, Yes Dear and I got an invitation to a New Year's Eve party two hours away. Usually we wouldn't travel that far, but the party was with friends from college we hadn't seen in almost two years, so we went. It also gave us a chance to see the homes of those friends (since we're home shopping at this point.) It was good to see old friends and we all had a good time. Hopefully we won't go two years without seeing them again, especially if they only live two hours away.

Yes Dear School Update: I think I mentioned that Yes Dear was going to have to take one credit hour this semester (which started today) because she and her advisor were unaware they changed the date to clear for graduation. Fortunately, the person who she appealed this decision to happens to be the mother of one of my good friends from high school. Yes Dear got a call today to say she didn't have to take the class (which would have been over $500 since they still have her as an out-of-state student, despite living in Ga. for the past seven years.) To make things even better, her graduation date will still be listed as May, which means she won't start paying back her student loans until October.

DC Brother Update: At the behest of DC Brother, I'm mentioning his non-girlfiend. He's not excactly dating this person, but he's also not exactly not dating this person, I think. Or there's a chance they could be the DC snipers from a few years ago. I'm not exactly sure what their deal is. Anyway, for a more in depth look at the Non-Girlfriend, read this by Official Brother.

Jury Duty Update: I was only in peril of being selected in one jury, and even in that case, I was the last guy on the panel, so each lawyer would have had to use all his strikes (basically eliminating a juror from serving) on both the regular jury and the alternates for me to be selected. As an added bonus, I got to read a good portion of Three Nights in August (a must read for someone who wants to get inside the mind of a baseball manager.)

I hope to update again by Friday. Take care everyone.

The Waiting (is the hardest part)

2006-01-08T23:01:00.000-05:00

Hey guys and gals,

I haven't forgotten about this blog, I promise. There will be an update soon. (I wish I had a good excuse as to why I haven't gotten around to blogging, but unfortunatley, I don't.)

The short update: I had a good Christmas, New Years and didn't get picked for jury duty. The long update will be with the next post.

Where are the dancing bears?

2005-12-30T12:02:00.000-05:00

I've got jury duty this Wednesday. In honor of that and because I haven't posted anything in a while, here's a column that originally ran in the Statesboro Herald on December 10, 2004, right after my last experience with jury duty. (Yes, I'm aware the blog title isn't a song title, but I'm using the headline that went with the column, sorry.) I hope everyone had a good holiday season (I'll cover mine in greater detail later.)

This past Wednesday, I experienced first-hand the fun and excitement of jury duty - and by “fun and excitement” I mean constant boredom.

Anyway, I kept a running diary. Here it is.

7:15 a.m. — You’ve got to be kidding me. Now I know why people are wrongfully convicted. The jurors are upset at having to get up this early. I can count on one hand the times in the past year I’ve been up this early. Already, the day’s off to a bad start.

8:15 a.m. — The summons I received told me I had to be at the judicial annex at this time or face a fine of up to $300. Yet here I am and no sign of any official-looking people.

8:30 a.m. — We’re been assigned a number and told that will be our name for the day.

So basically, so far I’ve gotten up early and been told that the name on my driver’s license (a legal document for identification purposes) isn’t good enough and I’ll be referred to by a number.

It’s the personal touches that make our government so great.

9 a.m. — Judge William Woodrum arrives and tells us that he’s happy to see us all. I get the feeling he tells all prospective jurors that, so I’m not sure how much he actually meant it.

9:25 a.m. — Now that we’ve been here over an hour the attorneys are finally asking questions to the jurors. They break the group into panels, and I’m not in the first group, so there’s no chance I could be selected. Fortunately for me, I’ve got a good book.

9:30 a.m. — I’ve only been here an hour and 15 minutes and my back is hurting from these chairs. There’s a nice metal bar in the middle of my back, making it nearly impossible to sit back and relax. Is it to much to ask for comfortable chairs . . . oh, it is. Ok, then, carry on.

9:45 a.m. — I just realized they never checked any ID. Anyone could have come in my place and lied.

By the way, next time I’m called for jury duty, I’m auctioning my place off on Ebay. (Note: I know it's late notice, but anyone intrested in taking my spot Wednesday. I'd appreciate it.)

10 a.m. — The bailiff turned the air conditioner on about an hour ago and I think they forgot about it. Either that or they’re simply preparing the room for its night use of being a meat locker.

10:45 a.m. — Finally, I’m in the pool of potential jurors for a case. This one involves a man allegedly pointing a gun at someone and a case of road rage. Unfortunately, still no theme music from “Law & Order.”

Anyway, I end up knowing one of the attorneys and had interviewed him a couple times for various stories. I don’t know if that had any effect, but . . .

12 noon — I didn’t get chosen for the case. And now we get a 90 minute lunch break. No wonder we only get $25, they make up for it with long lunch breaks.

2 p.m. — I really wish the bailiffs would begin painting the walls. Not that I think the room needs to be repainted, but at least I could watch the paint dry as a form of entertainment. Or maybe some dancing bears in a cage off to the side. Something, anything to pass the time.

2:05 p.m. — Maybe it’s a good thing those walls weren’t painted as some excitement begins. One of the jurors is called up to the bench because she feels she couldn’t be an impartial juror. Maybe I should try that trick for the next time.

2:15 p.m. — Someone gets picked for their second trial. There’s obvious empathy for this person as everyone turns to their neighbor and said “that’s her second one. I’m glad I’m not her.” She deserves some kind of award.

3 p.m. — For the second time, I avoid being selected for a case. This one was a cocaine sale. There’s only two more cases to go, so it’s looking good that I won’t get picked.
You know, jury selection is like the opposite of kickball when you were a kid. No one wants to get picked first, or at all.

4:15 — One last case, but its a good one. The defendant is accused of robbing several gas stations. However, there’s a glimmer of hope for me. Judge Woodrum tells us the trial is scheduled for December 14-15, and Yes Dear’s sister is graduating that night. When the judge asks if anyone has a conflict. I tell him my situation. I guess having a sister-in-law graduating from college is a good enough excuse as neither attorney objected and I was sent home for the day.

As I’m leaving, someone tells me, “well, looks like you got out of it.” Sweeter words have never been spoken.

Running on empty

2005-12-27T20:59:00.000-05:00

Hey guys,

I know I promised a post today, but I'm not really feeling up to it. Maybe tomorrow, maybe Thursday. You'll have to wait another day or two to read an in depth post and ask yourself "why do I keep coming back here?"

I hope everyone had a great Festivus, Christmas, Hanukkah or other holiday that you may have been celebrating.

I fought the law (and the law won)

2005-12-22T13:00:00.000-05:00

On Monday, I addressed the first half of the most pressing question facing residents of the planet Earth: If you were murdered in New York City, which Law & Order detectives would you want handling your case?

Now that the perpetrator has been apprehended, we need to name the second, yet equally important group, representing the people, the District Attorney's office, who prosecutes the offenders.

As with the first half of the question, all the attorneys who have worked in the DA's office are available to choose from. And like Monday's discussion of the detectives, I'll start out saying who I don't want handling my case before revealing who is sending my killer to Attica (or Rikers, either way I'll be dead so it won't matter much to me.)

Let's start by picking the second chair, who basically serves as an additional investigator for the DA's office and serves as someone for the first chair to bounce ideas off of. Let's start right out be eliminating Paul Robinette from the running. He was a decent second chair to Ben Stone in the show's first three years, but he didn't seem to have the passion needed to attack the case. (He did manage to find that passion later when he came back as a defense attorney in a racially motivated case. However, being that I'm white and Robinette is black, I don't think I'd fit into his normal clientele.) While we're at it, we're cutting Serena Sutherland from the list for the same reason. (But it does provide an early photo opportunity, but this time, I'm actually going to refrain from posting it, sorry guys, but you'll thank me later.)

Also, as much as it pains me, we're going to eliminate Claire Kincade from the running. (Again, for the sake of the argument, let's pretend she didn't die in a car crash on the show.) She always deferred to Stone and Jack McCoy on every decision. And while she was an able investigator, she never struck me as spectacular in the second chair. Plus, the hidden inuendo on the show was she and McCoy were having an affiar. I don't want my attorney distracted by thoughts of what she wants to do to her coworker while she's preparing to put my murderer behind bars for 25 to life. Maybe it's a little selfish of me, but I want the attorney's to focus on me and not each other. (Here is where we'll add a photo to this otherwise mundane post so far . . . you're welcome guys.)

I was tempted to make ADA Ron Carver from L&O:CI and make him second chair, especially based on his prosecution in one of last night's reruns. However,I thought the deomotion from lead attorney to second chair might cause some friction. And again, I can't feel good about taking any of the lawyers from SVU because, well, they deal with sex crimes and I'm not going out like that.

No, I want Abby Carmichael on the prosecution team. She's fiesty, agressive and has a take-no-prisoners attitude. (Except that, in this case, I want her to take prisoners, specifically one prisoner that killed me.) Not to mention she's a former Baywatch Night's star who gives Jill Hennessy a run for her money for the title "hottest ADA in New York."

(Seriously, isn't it time for that contest to be held somewhere? Let's organize this. Who would be against such a thing? NBC is in the toilet when it comes to ratings with L&O being it's only reliable draw, so why not combine beauty pagaent with L&O. I tell you, when I become the head of a television studio, these are the types of programs you'll have the opportunity to watch. Don't let me down.)

Fortunately for the length of this post, there aren't a lot of choices to be the lead attorney. Again, the SVU lawyers are out of the running to head up the prosecution, leaving only three real choices, Ron Carver, Ben Stone or Jack McCoy.

Carver's role on L&O:CI is mostly advisory in the investigation process, so there aren't a lot of chances to see him in action in the courtroom. However, from the few times I've seen him try a case, he's very good. He must be, after all, since he's working with the detectives from the Major Case Squad.

Ben Stone was also very good. Granted, he only stayed for four years, but he still managed to have one of the most enduring lines in L&O history when he put a 10 second time limit on a plea bargain offer. When the defendant's balked at the proposed offer, Stone looked back at them and said "tick tock gentleman." Every time my family is waiting on someone to get ready to go, we'll say "tick tock gentleman." Good times. He also answered, when asked what he wanted in life, was peace on earth, the Mets in the series and your client behind bars. That's a man with goals.

But neither Stone nor Carver hold a candle to Jack McCoy. The passion, energy and willingness to push the boundries will all be important when some defense attorney tries some creative defense as to why he had to kill me.

(Seriously though, why would anyone need to kill me? My goal in life is to not bother people, which conflicts with my profession in life of bothering people for answers. Let's just agree my paper sent me to New York to uncover some deep corruption in the City Council that stretches all the way to the mayor's office in New York City. Sure, it'll never happen, but if I'm going to start with the presumption that I'm killed in New York, I think I can add the reason for my death. Plus, it'll give the police a chance to visit my little town here.)

McCoy is also a better courtroom litigator than either of the other two options to prosecute. He thinks well on his feet and knows how to push the buttons of those on the stand to implicate them in the murder. Sometimes he may go to far, but I'd rather he do that than not go far enough.

And finally, the all important District Attorney. I realize the voters of New York County have the decision as to who they elect, but this is my murder mystery, so I'm changing the rules.

I think most people would expect me to pick Adam Schiff to be the DA overseeing my case, but I'm going against that. Schiff was always anxious to make a deal and clear the case, but I want whoever kills me to get the max.

So with that in mind, I'll take the only other viable alternative, Arthur Branch, but default. He's not bad, but he's not the same, character-wise, as Schiff was. I miss him on the show.

There you have it. The complete Law & Order team I want to investigate and prosocute my killer(s). If I'm ever in New York, I'll let you know and if I die, would someone please contact someone in the New York City Police Department and point them to my request. I'd appreciate it.

Weekend Plans: As mentioned Monday, Yes Dear and I are embarking on our whirlwind Christmas weekend on Friday, leaving right after work for her parents house where we'll celebrate Christmas Eve like it's Christmas. Then, around 2:30ish on Saturday, we'll head back home to make in in time for our Church's Christmas Eve service and then to my parents for our traditional viewing of The Muppet Christmas Carol. ("Light the lamp, not the rat! Light the lamp, not the rat!!") Christmas morning, we'll get up and drive back to my parents' home to open presents and that night will conclude with our annual game of Trival Pursuit. (For more information about our family's holiday tradition, check out Official Brother's blog.

War on Christmas Update: The United States Secretary of Transportation has given Santa Claus clearance to enter U. S. airspace, land on people's homes and leave unchecked packages underneath their holiday tree. I ask you, how can we wage a successful war on Christmas if we're going to bend the rules for this career criminal. (Yeah, that's right, I called Santa a career criminal. He's gotten away with more breaking and entering jobs than anyone in the history of the world. Well, not this year. If there are presents at my house Christmas morning, I'm calling the police.)

Holiday Reminder: While you're preparing for Christmas of Haunakkah, don't forget that the Seinfeld holiday of Festivus (you know, "Festivus for the rest of us") is Friday. Be sure to set up your Festivus Pole.

Have a great Christmas and/or Haunakkah and/or Festivus. See you Tuesday (hopefully) for the next post.

Bad Boys (Theme from "Cops")

2005-12-19T18:30:00.000-05:00

Following my previous post regarding the War on Christmas (which, I admit, is totally out of the normal voice, tone and content of this blog, but it was bothering me so much I just needed to write it down), I realized there are other burning issues that needed to be addressed in this world.

So, if you don't mind, I think today I'll tackle the single greatest question ever posed to anyone in the history of the universe.

If you were murdered in New York City, which Law and Order detective(s) and lawyers would you want handling your case? (For the sake of this question, all the Law & Order franchises are available to choose from. Even, for the three people who liked it, including me, Law & Order: Trial by Jury.)

(I'd planned on answering the detective and prosecution teams in this post, but it started running long. To find out who is prosecuting my murders, check back Thursday.)

Before revealing who I want investigating, allow me to take a look at who I don't want anywhere near my case.

As much as I like both Deteticves Munch (Richard Belzer) and Tutuola (Ice-T) on the show, Munch for his conspiracy theories and Lennie Briscoe-esqe one liners and Tutuola for his knowledge of the mean streets of New York, there's just something about them that says "Luke, you don't want them on the scene shortly after your murder."

Oh, now I remember.

They do sex crimes. It's bad enough that I was murdered in New York, but I don't want to go out in any way that would require the sex crimes unit to show up on the scene. For the same reason, I don't want Stabler (Christopher Meloni) or Benson (the incredibly hot Mariska Hargitay) investigating my early demise. (And, in a first for the Nexus of the Universe, we're resisting the impulse to put a photo of Ms. Hargitay. Why the sudden change? Well, we're not sure of Santa's views on gratuitous photos of beautiful women on blogs and rather than risk it this close to Christmas, we'll avoid using a photo. On second thought, forget Santa. This entry needs photos and Hargitay is as good as anyone to post a picture of.)

The original Law & Order has had more than its fair share of detectives working out of the 27th precinct. Some, like Detectives Ray Curtis (Benjamin Bratt) and Joe Fontana (Dennis Farina) are serviceable. They're not flashy or spectacular, but they get the job done. Others, like Phil Ceretta (Paul Sorvino) and George Dzundza (Max Greevy) had their time in the Law & Order spotlight up to 15 years ago, when I was 11 and not exactly a fan of the show. Though no fault of their own, I'm eliminating them as well.

Both Lennie Briscoe (Jerry Orbach, may he rest in peace) and Ed Green (Jesse L. Martin) are above average detectives. Forget for a minute that Orbach is dead and wouldn't be able to investigate anyway. (For the sake of discussion, let's say he's alive and doing fine.) I wouldn't be upset if they were assigned my case. They're both very good at what they do and would work well together, especially considering they worked well together until Orbach left the show for health reasons. They'd probably find the guy (or gal) who killed me and have all the evidence they needed to give to the DA's office. They're good, just not the guys I want on my case.

One of the dark horses to work the case would be Tony Profaci (John Fiore.) Granted, he turned out to be a dirty cop in the Law & Order movie "Exiled," but before that, Profaci was best known as doing the menial tasks the key detectives didn't have time to do. While the lead detectives would get sent upstate to interview the victim's old business partner, Profaci would get stuck waiting at the Medical Examiner's office waiting for an autopsy report. How he made the detectives' squad is beyond me. He was essentially a glorified secretary.

So who is it I want handling my case? While a lot of people don't like him, I want Bobby Goren from L&O: Criminal Intent as the lead detective. The man is a genius. In fact, I'd wager Official Brother's scholarship money that anyone that smart is not going to waste his time as a detective.

Be that as it may, Goren's going to get his man (or woman, if it turns out Yes Dear murdered me on some vacation to New York). Not only that, but I think he would enjoy toying with the suspect's mind for a few days during the investigation. He'll start asking about one thing and end up asking about what the suspect did last winter to cause a small scar across his finger. Three days later, it'll turn out that the scar was the clue that cracked the case and led to his arrest. I need someone who's going to pay attention to the smallest details to find my killer. (I also need someone that detail-oriented to edit my posts, so if you're interested, let me know.)

While Goren may be leading the investigation, he needs someone else to partner with. This was probably the easiest choice of the entire debate. Mike Logan (Chris Noth) brings passion, energy and plaid ties that are needed to catch my killer. Sadly, most women probably know him better as Mr. Big on "Sex and the City." (And honestly, why was he so smitten with Sarah Jessica Parker when Kristen Davis was also available. It's one of the greatest mysteries of the show. In fact, after Goren and Logan solve my murder, maybe they could look into that.)

Sure, Logan may be a bit of a hot head (as evidenced by the fact he was banished to Staten Island for hitting a city council member), but he's not afraid to rough someone up, setting them up nicely for Goren to come in and basically play mind games until he confesses.

And who is supervising my investigation. While Lt. Van Buren (S. Epatha Merkerson) is a Lieutenant in the PD, I still want Capt. Cragen (Dann "I spell my name with two 'n's" Florek) running the ship. (And yes, I'm aware he's now in charge of the Special Victim's Unit, but he got his start in the good, old 27th precinct.) I want Cragen for no other reason than he is always angry when he answers his phone. Goren and Logan will be in there explaining the troubles of the case, causing Cragen to get agitated, when the phone will ring. Rather than hiding his frustration, Cragen picks up the phone and yells "WHAT?" That's the kind of anger that's going to get my killer arrested.

Weekend update: Friday night, after going out to dinner with some friends, Yes Dear and I watched Appalachian State claim their first 1-AA football championship with a 21-16 win over Northern Iowa. (And yes, that's the same Appalachain State Yes Dear interviewed at earlier this year.) Saturday we went to my parent's house and watched Mt. Union win the Division III national championship (they've won eight of the past 13 titles.) We watched more football Saturday night. Sunday, Yes Dear left for her annual Girls Christmas Party. (Think "Girls Gone Wild," only without the going wild part.) I watched some football and a lot of the Law & Order: SVU marathon on USA.

Fantasy update: Growing up, friends, teachers and everyone not in my immediate family said I looked like Paul from The Wonder Years. Does that mean I still have a shot with Winnie Cooper, or, as she's known today, Danica Mckeller. It appears as though it's going to be another mixed week for the Fighting Squirrels. After falling last week to Official Brother in the semifinals, it appears I'll finish the year in 4th place unless Green Bay running back Samkon Gado loses 12 points tonight. In my quest to be the best of the rest (the loser's bracket) in my other league, I've got a fairly comfortable 97-42 lead going into tonight's game. With a win this week, I can finish no worse than sixth (out of 10). All in all, an ultimately unsatisfying fantasy season.

Christmas Plans: Yes Dear and I are heading to her parents house on Friday where we'll celebrate Christmas a day early. That afternoon, we'll head back to home to make it in time for our Christmas Eve service at church and spend Christmas with my family. (We spent Christmas morning with her family last year, so we're switching it up this year.) And yes, I've bought and wrapped Yes Dear's present, a full week before Christmas. I think that may improve my chances in the Husband of the Year race. However, I think the Fantasy Updates all year have all but blown my chances of winning that.

What does this mean for you? Well, it means I'm planning on revealing who from Law & Order I want prosecuting my murder on sometime on Thursday.

As always, thanks for reading and I'll see you Thursday.

War (What is it good for?)

2005-12-15T22:38:00.000-05:00

(In the interest in full disclosure, I’m a Christian who finds the “War on Christmas” to be the biggest fake controversy since the Terrell Owens/Nicollette Sheridan fiasco on Monday Night Football. Longtime readers know that I’ve just created a perfect reason to include a photo of Sherridan in my blog, and I’ll most assuredly take advantage of the opportunity.)

Unbeknownst to me and other Christians throughout the nation, Christmas has been under attack. I’ve checked my calendar for this year and the next two years and, as far as I can tell, December 25 is still there. In fact, the word “Christmas” is written in the square for that date. In other words, I’ve eliminated the calendar makers from being involved in the war. (I’m like a detective. I have to eliminate suspects. Just call me Mike Logan)

Christmas lights are still up around town. Our mall, as well as those in nearby cities, appears to be crowded with people buying gifts for family and friends. Radio stations have been playing both secular and religious songs during the month of December as they have in the past.

On the surface, everything would appear to be just the same as it has been in the past.

Fortunately, we’ve got people like Fox News’ John Gibson looking out for us. In his new book, “The War on Christmas,” he details how stores have begun saying “Happy Holidays” instead of “Merry Christmas.” Apparently, as I Christian, I’m supposed to find this change as an attack on my beliefs and part of the secularists’ goal of eliminating Christmas from the public arena. Gibson has yet to mention, that I’ve seen, that he’s trying to sell a book by stirring up this pseudocontroversy.

By removing “Merry Christmas” from advertising, stores are somehow saying they don’t care about Christians. At least, I think that’s the argument. By wishing me Happy Holidays instead, I think I’m supposed to feel slighted. Or, better yet, attacked. Forget, for a minute, that “holidays” is plural, and therefore inclusive of all holidays in December. Or forget that Hanukkah starts on the same day as Christmas this year. Other holidays shouldn’t be competing with Christmas. They should quit honing in on our day.

Fortunately, this whole “War on Christmas” has taught me a lot about the history of Christmas in the United States.

When the Puritans settled at Plymouth Rock back in 1620, they forbid the celebration of Christmas, saying it reminded them of Old World England, it wasn’t truly the birth of Jesus (more on that later) and celebrations tended to include feasting, drinking and playing games, all things the Puritans frowned on. So they banned the holiday.

In other words, all these people wanting to celebrate Christmas today are spitting in the face of our ancestors. The heathens. If we truly want to celebrate a traditional American Christmas, we need to not celebrate Christmas at all That’s what our forefathers would have wanted.

And what about the Christmas tree? As Jon Stewart pointed out, that symbol of Christmas is so Christian that it predates the religion. In fact, a look at the bible would suggest a Christmas tree might actually be a sin.

In the book of Jeremiah, the prophet cites a pagan ritual of cutting down an evergreen tree and decorating it with silver or gold as something to be avoided.

Jeremiah 10:2-4: "Thus saith the LORD, Learn not the way of the heathen, and be not dismayed at the signs of heaven; for the heathen are dismayed at them. For the customs of the people are vain: for one cutteth a tree out of the forest, the work of the hands of the workman, with the axe. They deck it with silver and with gold; they fasten it with nails and with hammers, that it move not." (KJV).

Yet the “traditionalists” are telling us that calling it a holiday tree is offensive to Christians. But what about the Romans among us who still want to celebrate the ancient Roman Feast of Saturnalia? Aren’t we discriminating against them by calling it a Christmas tree?

Back in the old days, ancient Romans would decorate trees with metals and replicas of their god, Bacchus, the god of wine in the ancient Roman world. Since I don’t drink wine, I guess I’d be a hypocrite for having a tree devoted to the Roman god Bacchus.

Even in America, the first Christmas tree was greeted with scorn. In 1851, Pastor Henry Schwan of Cleveland, Ohio appears to have been the person responsible for decorating the first Christmas tree in an American church. His parishioners condemned the idea as a Pagan practice; some even threatened the pastor with harm.

Those are the traditional American values we should be fighting for.

This leads us to the day we celebrate Christmas, December 25. Most scholars agree that, most likely, Jesus wasn’t born in the dead of winter. Also, shepherds wouldn’t be out tending their flock at that time. According to people who know much more than I do, shepherds in that area would watch their sheep from early March until early October.

Most scholars think the date was selected to incorporate the Feast of Saturnalia. Scholars think the church chose the date of this pagan celebration to interest them in Christianity. The pagans were already used to celebrating on this date.

I think this whole pseudocontroversy is a self-fulfilling prophecy on the part of some Christians. In the book of Matthew, Jesus said “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness' sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” In other words, Christians are told they’ll be blessed for being persecuted, so they go out and look for evidence that someone is persecuting them, whether or not they’re actually suffering.

I’m no biblical scholar, but I don’t think this is the type of persecution Jesus was had in mind when he said his followers would be persecuted. Somehow, I get the feeling Jesus had bigger fish to fry than the semantics of how his birth is celebrated.

It makes me sad to see people professing to be Christians spending their time and efforts on this “war” when there are so many other things they could be doing to live out the commandments of Jesus. I’ll be the first to admit I fall far short of meeting those standards.

And now, with all that said, I wish you a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, a joyful Kwanza, a festive Festivus, an enjoyable feast of Saturnalia, a good new year and any other holidays I may have left out.

Weekend plans: Yes Dear is going to Atlanta for her annual girls’ Christmas party on Saturday and won’t return until Tuesday, so I’ve got the apartment to myself. What are my big plans? Football, football, and more football.

New Blog Alert: Many of you have read about Official Brother. Now you have the chance to hear from him first hand at Official Brother Speaks Out.

Shopping Update: I got Yes Dear’s gift today, so I’m done. For those who haven’t finished their holiday shopping, only nine days left until Christmas, but only seven days remaining until Festivus.

If you’ve made it this far, I’d like to give you a Steven Colbert “Tip of the Hat.” Thanks for reading and see you Monday.

The Graduation Song

2005-12-13T18:00:00.000-05:00

Yeah, I went to Vitamin C for my title today. That's just how I roll.

So Yes Dear graduated on Friday and, once again, my alma mater didn't invite me to give the commencement address. That didn't stop me from writing one in case they needed me to fill in had the speaker suffered a tragic death at the hands (err, paws) of a pack of lions. Rather than let that speech go to waste, I thought I'd share it here.

First of all, allow me to offer my congratulations to you for reaching this milestone in your life. I, too, was once where you're sitting and I know what you're thinking: "Who is this guy and why is my school to cheap to bring in Bill Cosby or Jon Stewart?"

The answer to that is I'm Luke and your school would rather spend money on their new football coach than bring in someone funny and famous for two hours to rehash his stand up bit. If you want Cosby or Stewart, turn on the television.

So why am I qualified to address you moments before you become a college graduate? Well, I think everyone who knows me can agree that my life can only be described as "not a complete and total failure." I'm not married to a stripper. I've never been to jail. Those were pretty much the requirements for giving the commencement address and I passed, thanks to a lenient judge and the fact that my wife prefers the term "exotic dancer."

(She's not really an exotic dancer. While she doesn't like me making fun of her short stature, she doesn't read this so I can say that it would be accurate to call her a "Tiny Dancer.")

People tell you this is a day you'll never forget. I'm here to tell you they're wrong. It's only been four years and yet I can't tell you what day I graduated on. Heck, I can't tell you where my diploma is at this point. I think it's in a box in my closet, but there's a chance it's still in my parent's house. It's not in the local landfill, I think. By next week you'll have forgotten all about me and anything I say here today. That's your goal.

My goal is to say something so memorable that a year from now, you remember that you had a graduation speaker.

Doodie.

You didn't think you'd hear that today, at least from some guy the school invited to address you on their most important academic day of the year. But, ideally, you'll remember me as the guy who said doodie at your graduation.

So what does that have to do with the life lessons you're supposed to gain from listening to some guy talk?

For you, it means go out and do something memorable.

If you're a teacher, be the teacher that faked his suicide by tossing a dummy off the roof of the school to illustrate the effects of gravity. If you're an interior designer, design a room made entirely out of old tires and show that to new clients as an example of your work. If you're a doctor . . . well, it's probably not best to play with people's health, but have your assistant try to fill a prescription for cocaine.

Go out and enjoy life. Have fun. It's not all about getting the best job or making the most money, although the school would like you to make the most so you can send some back to them. If you do make the most money, please consider sending some to your commencement speaker who, I'm sure, was key to your success.

I know you're read to graduate and the longer I talk, the longer you have to wait. So I'll end with this inspirational message.

Doodie.

Congratulations again. Dr. Grube, why are you escorting me from the stage? Hey! What did I do? Unhand me you ruffian.

Fantasy Update: World Poker Tour's Shana Hiatt has yet to invite me to her home poker game. In other fantasy news, the championship dreams of the Fighting Squirrels ended this weekend as we lost to Official Brother's team, Wal-Mart Low Prices (so named because nobody beats Wal-Mart's Low Prices) in the semi-finals of our playoffs in one league while failing to qualify for the playoffs in the other league. I play for third place next week in one league while begin my quest for fifth place in the other league next week. After that concludes, the Fantasy Update will go on hiatus until baseball season begins again in April.

Weekend Update: Thursday night, Yes Dear, myself, and Yes Dear's sister all went to a party to celebrate her graduation. Friday, she graduated and then my parents threw a party for her. That night, we played poker with some friends (notice how the Fantasy Update Girl ties in here.) and watched one of the 1-AA semifinal games. Saturday we watched the other semifinal game and then went out to dinner to celebrate Yes Dear's Father's birthday. Sunday we went shopping in Savannah with Official Brother and Parental Unit #1. Going back to work yesterday was actually relaxing.

Christmas Shopping Update: We're done with all our shopping for others. Yes Dear ordered my present Sunday night and I need to pick up her present this week and we'll be done.

Thanks for stopping by. Check back Friday night for a new post.

Tell Me Lies

2005-12-08T18:00:00.000-05:00

I don't like to vent about my marriage in public, but in this case I think it's justified. I may regret this later, but I just have to write this. Excuse my venting (and don't tell Yes Dear you read this here)

When Yes Dear and I got married (August 2, 2003, see, I remember), I thought I was entering a lifelong partnership. One which would be mutually beneficial to both of us as we went though this crazy journey called life together.

Now, I'm not so sure.

No no, I'm not thinking of leaving her and, as far as I know, she has no intentions of leaving me. I'm just not sure the partnership I thought we had is the same as what she thinks.

Whenever I have a big decision in life (like whether to set of parenthetical thoughts with parentheses or with commas) I give her a call to ask her opinion. (She likes parentheses, can you tell?) I know that the decisions I make affect her as well and I want to discuss the issue before I do something that may make her upset. (If she ain't happy, ain't nobody happy.)

When I got into an accident and my truck was totaled, I didn't go out and buy the first car for sale that I saw, but instead we looked at all the options we had and settled on what was best for us.

When we go out to dinner, I ask her where she wants to go rather than tell her we're going to Wendy's for their 99 cents value menu. (Always go with the Frosty)

But Wednesday, all the trust she'd built up with me was dashed. After a slow morning at work, I went home to get lunch when the phone rang. Because an ringing phone must be answered, I picked it up. (It's some subliminal urge to make the noise stop, I think. For some reason, people have trouble letting their answering machine or voice mail take the call, even if you don't want to talk to anyone.)

On the other end of the line was Yes Dear. She started out apologizingg to me. I knew this couldn't be good. She's the wife. According to the law of situation comedies, the wife only apologizes if she crashes her car into the neighbor's pool or if she sells the husband's cherished childhoold memento.

She goes on and on about not involving me in the decision-making process and she hopes I won't be mad. Now I'm starting to wonder if she sold her car for a camel to save gas money.

She then told me she didn't think I'd mind, but she accepted the job at Georgia Southern that she'd been offered.

I'm human, so while I'm excited she got the job, we're working on our trust issues. It may take some time.

Weekend plans: In addition to getting her new job, Yes Dear graduates Friday with her Masters Degree. Unfortunately, she hasn't hired anyone to take her place in the graduation ceremony. (By doing that, she could sit with her family and share the experience of watching "her" graduate with us.) It's also her father's birthday, so there's a joint party following the ceremony. Other than that, I don't have a clue what I'm doing this weekend.

Cubs update: The Cubbies acquiredd leadoff man extrodinairee Juan Pierre for next year. Having him at the top of the lineup should dramaticallyy improve our offense. I know it's December and I'm talking about baseball, but Georgia Southern football is done and I'm not a basketball fan, so this is all I have. Don't judge me.

Next Post: It'll actually probably be Tuesday. Yes Dear and her new co-workers are being treated to dinner by their boss. Apparently it's a blow-out extravaganza that's an hour away. It should be fun, but it's on Monday (my regular posting day.) If you need something to waste those five minutes of your day, I'd like to again recommend The Ex-Girlfriend Project.

Under Pressure

2005-12-05T16:20:00.000-05:00

So Yes Dear got home from her interview at Georgia Southern last Friday and was much more worked up about it than I thought she'd be. After all, she's been working there for five of the seven years the building has been open and everyone there knows her extremely well. How hard could the interview have been?

As it turns out, much harder than she anticipated. Because they all knew her well, they were able to ask much deeper and probing questions then they otherwise would have been able to. All along, Yes Dear was figuring that her familiarity with those on the search committee would be a plus, but when it came time for questioning her, it turned into a detriment.

Instead of the "how would you describe your management style?" type questions, Yes Dear got "Your mentor has been Becky (not her real name), if we hired you, how would we know you wouldn't just be a puppet of Becky?" Not what she was expecting.

(Not to mention my previous mention of Yes Dear not getting a tour of campus or a tour of the city . . . If she's not hired, we're looking at a discrimination suit.)

She hopes to know something by the end of the week. If she could find out by Thursday, that would be ideal since she's graduating on Friday. (happy happy, joy joy. We do the dance of joy.)

Fantasy update: Sure, Heather Locklear is old enough to be my older sister, but she's still got "it." In other fantasy news, the Fighting Squirrels had a fantastic week, going 2-0 on the week, even before the Monday Night games. In one league, I improved to 9-4 while in the other league, I improved to 6-7 in the other league. What does that mean for you, well, it means the playoffs are right around the corner and as soon as I lose, the Fantasy Updates go on hiatus for a few months. But don't worry, it'll most likely return at the beginning of baseball season.

Weekend update: After going to work in the morning, Yes Dear and I went out and picked out our Christmas Tree. Then we decorated it while watching football. Nothing celebrates the birth of Jesus Christ quite like killing and tree and displaying the spoils of your conquest in your living room. That night, we went to a Christmas party with some friends and had a grand time. Sunday I had to work again and then I went to my parents for dinner while Yes Dear went to a Christmas Party. The only downside of the whole weekend is I forgot to tape Law & Order: Criminal Intent. Fortunately, NBC is in the crapper and there's a good chance they'll show that episode again soon since the Law & Order Series is basically the only thing they've got going for them at this point.

Christmas Update: We're about halfway though with our Christmas shopping. I still need to figure out what to get my dad and we need to get something for Yes Dear's mom and dad, but other than that, we're done. By the way, only 19 shopping days left.

Blog Update: My goal is to get away from the more personal updates and get back to writing more newspaper-type columns in this space. Most likely they'll be sports-centered, but every now and again I'll delve into something else.

Thanks again for making the Nexus of the Universe a part of your day. You've got thousands of choices and I appreciate you wasting five minutes of your day here.

Next Update: Thursday (no Friday update due to Yes Dear's graduation. It's ok, you can blame her for that, I am)

The waiting (Is the hardest part)

2005-12-02T16:07:00.000-05:00

Desultory notes of interest:

Yes Dear Job Interview:

As of the writing of this entry, Yes Dear is currently on her job interview with Georgia Southern. I'm going to go out on a limb and say it's going well, but I really don't' have any idea.

I do know she's not being treated the same as the other candidate who was there Wednesday night and Thursday. For example, no one picked up Yes Dear from our apartment this morning for her interview. The other candidate had someone meet her at the airport and drove her to Statesboro. Also, Yes Dear didn't get a tour of Georgia Southern's campus or of Statesboro. Just because she's been in Statesboro since 1998 is no reason not to give her a tour of the city.

Oddly enough, however, they are giving her a tour of the Recreation Activity Center (or RAC as the kids today are calling it), despite the fact that she's been working there on and off for five years, including the last two as a graduate assistant.

Crazy Party:

Next Friday, my wife is going to a "top off" party. When she told me that, I immediately thought of Brandi Chastain's celebration after winning the 1999 Women's World Cup and asked why the school would hold such a party. (Chastain instantly became the favorite player of millions of teenaged boys who, until that moment, never cared about women's soccer.)It seemed sexist and degrading to ask college gals to walk around without their tops off at a school-sanctioned event.

Then I asked if I could go.

She told me it had something to do with the expansion of the RAC and they were putting up the last beam or something. Really, if you're going to call it a "top off" party and invite college girls, you should really explain that aspect of the party first.

Drive-Thru banking:

So I went to deposit a couple checks at the bank today and rather than get out and actually interact with humans, I figured I'd use the drive-thru. (By the way, I abhor that spelling of "thru," but it's a losing battle and rather than fight that one, I'll save my energy for a much bigger, yet-to-be determined fight.) Little did I know that the SUV two cars ahead of me was going to get advice on how to manage his portfolio from the teller on the other side of the glass.

I must have sat in line for 10 minutes waiting for this jerk to analyze the stock market and call his broker a dozen times. Come on, we're at the drive through. Fill out deposit slip, give it to them and get your receipt. Anything requiring more than two steps by the teller means you should go inside, out of respect for your fellow man (or person, for the overly sensitive, PC crowd.)

I don't think there's a jury in the country that would have convicted me and my fellow motorists if we'd stuffed this guy into the little tube and sent him inside the bank by way of the suction tube. In fact, they might have given us keys to the vault and thanked us for our service to humanity.

Yes Dear Job Update:

As you may recall, Yes Dear interviewed at Appalachian State for a job with their campus recreation department. After leaving the interview, she wasn't real comfortable with the way they were doing some things and about a week later, she withdrew her name from consideration. I think the happiest person to hear about that was my boss. Apparently, he doesn't want me to leave. Granted, there are ways (*cough* $$$ *cough*) he could convey that message to me.

High School Football:

Despite my love of all things college football (including the Division II and Division III playoffs), I really don't care about high school football. For example, my high school is playing in the state championship game tonight in Statesboro and I'm not going.

I had to go cover a pep rally on Thursday for the team (here is where you make fun of my job) and I realized I really didn't care one iota if they won or not. I just wanted the rally to be over to so I could get some quotes for my story and go back to the office.

I may watch it on television, but there's a better chance of me watching some Law & Order reruns. For the sake of the few kids on know on the team, I hope they win, but when it comes down to it, I'll be cheering for Jack McCoy to put the perp away.

Have a great weekend. Be back Monday with another post.

So long, farewell

2005-11-30T18:00:00.000-05:00

You didn't think I had a "Sound of Music" reference it me, did you?

It seems strange that less than a month after being at one of the most exciting college football games in years, Georgia Southern fired their football coach, Mike Sewak, for failing to meet the program's lofty expectations.

National championships aren't wished for at Georgia Southern. They're expected. Coaches who fail to meet those expectations become former coaches who failed to meet those expectations. You see, the Eagles have won six national titles in the past 20 years. That's 30 percent, for those of you who are math-impaired.

Making things more difficult for Sewak is that he was following a legend in Paul Johnson. He came to Georgia Southern in 1997 and proceeded to win 62 of the 72 games he coached for the Eagles. He won the national championship in 1999 and 2000, finished second in 1998, lost in the semifinals in 2001 and in the quarterfinals in 1997. So of his 10 losses, three were in the playoffs and another two were against 1-A teams. Johnson left in 2001 to accept the head coaching position at the Naval Academy.

More than his success on the field, Johnson restored the "fear factor" to GSU. The Eagles were feared in football circles. Following a narrow 48-41 win over Oregon State, then head coach Dennis Ericson (formerly of the vaunted Miami Hurricanes) told his athletic director to never schedule GSU again. Oregon State, by the way, had an additional 22 scholarships and one year later went on to defeat Notre Dame 41-9 in the Fiesta Bowl.

Under Johnson, the Eagles never lost more than three games a season. Under Sewak, The Eagles lost at least three games a season every year. While Sewak's career record is pretty good (35-14) and his conference record isn't bad either (23-7), it wasn't up to the sky-high standards Eagle fans have grown to expect. Even being named Southern Conference Coach of the Year in 2004 wasn't enough.

For most schools, a winning percentage of .714 warrants a contract extension. At Georgia Southern, it gets you a pink slip.

This isn't the first time the Eagles have let go of a very successful coach who didn't quite measure up.

Sewak's firing is eerily reminiscent of GSU Athletic Director Sam Baker's first splash at the school a decade ago.

Baker came to Statesboro at the beginning of the 1996 calendar year to a program that had recently finished 9-4 with a loss in the playoffs to eventual champion Montana. That team was coached by Tim Stowers, who had the unenviable task of following Erk Russell. Russell was the man who resurrected the GSU program and led the Eagles to national titles in 1985, 1986 and 1989. Keep in mind that when Russell was hired in 1981, the school had to scurry across the street to Kmart to buy a football for the press conference. In other words, he had success faster than Brad Pitt at a high school prom.

Stowers inherited the program in 1990 that was coming off the first 15-0 season in college football history. In fact, the Eagles were one fumble away from being back-to-back champions, having lost the 1988 title game 17-12. (Even though I bring it up 17 years later, I'm not bitter.)

He proceeded to start 1-3 before reeling off 11 straight wins en route to the Eagles fourth title in six years. Things were looking better for the Eagles than a Catherine Zeta-Jones look-alike contest (and yes, that's an excuse to post a photo of the lovely Ms. Zeta-Jones.)

Unfortunately, Stowers never could live up to the expectations set by Erk Russell. Fair or unfair, he was judged against the success of the early Eagles. Despite winning a title in 1990, being named Southern Conference Coach of the Year in 1993 and a career 51-23 record (a .689 winning percentage), Baker fired Stowers in March of 1996.

Stowers did have several things working against him. Despite his success, the offense (the spread option, Georgia Southern's calling card) had become predictable and boring. Attendance was hovering around 12,000 fans a game, down considerably from the Eagles heyday in the 80s.
Things hadn't deteriorated to that point yet for Sewak, but there was growing skepticism among many Eagle fans about Sewak's ability to lead the Eagles back to the promised land. Several fans on GSU's unofficial message board had been calling for Sewak's firing for quite some time (ahhh, to be a fan in the age of the Internet where you can post your thoughts and feelings as fact.) Surprisingly, firemikesewak.com was still available as of yesterday morning. However, firethenextguy.com was taken.

Where do the Eagles go from here? I really don't know. There aren't many coaches knowledgeable in the style of offense the Eagles run, but we've recruited players who fit in that system. Any change in the offense would require patience among the Eagle faithful and, to borrow a phrase from Stephen A. Smith, quite frankly I don't think Eagle fans are willing to wait.

With any luck, Scott will write something about the Sewak firing. He's got a wealth of knowledge about GSU football, having covered it for several years for the Statesboro Herald.

The Thanksgiving Song

2005-11-28T18:00:00.000-05:00

Don't blame me for today's title. It's not my fault Adam Sandler didn't give his Thanksgiving song a better name.

We didn't set out to start a tradition. I guess no one does. But 15 years ago when my friendds and I were looking for something to do the Friday after Thanksgiving, we did what any pre-teen boys would do. We got all the kids our age in the neighborhood together and started a football game.

After a short while of playing in someone's front yard, we decided we'd be better off if we got one of our parents to drive us up to the local high school field and we'd spend the afternoon playing there. Near the end of the game (which was played on the full 100-yard field, despite the fact there were, at best 10 total people playing), someone dubbed the game the Turkey Bowl, and thus a tradition was born.

Over the years, the cast of players has changed. Only my two brothers and another set of brothers remains from the early years. But despite the turnover, the game continues. When I was in high school, the game would last three hours or more. Last Friday's game lasted less than two.

A few years in, the annual field goal kicking contest was born. For years, 40 yards was the record. Even though many of us played soccer, no one ever could break the 40-yard barrier. More than likely, it was psychological. Several people would kick a 40-yarder with plenty of room to spare, but when we backed up five yards, we couldn't come close. That was, until a few years ago when someone drilled a 51-yard field goal. This year, no one broke 40.

The traditional has not been without it's kinks. For the past several years, we've had to wait for the team to leave for their state playoff game before we could play. (For some reason, the coaches don't want random people tearing up their field in the event they might need it next week.) One year, a guy brought his girlfriend back from college to play. Being the nice people we are, we gave her the ball near the goal line to let her score and feel like she was a part of the game. Unfortunately, someone tackled her (did I mention we play tackle . . . it was a good idea when we were 11 and 12, not so good when you're 26 and out of shape, anyway, I digress . . .) someone tackled her and broke her arm. Oh, she was visiting from Texas.

Another year, we couldn't play at our normal field, so we all loaded into our cars and drove the three miles to the nearby soccer fields to play. On the way over, two people got pulled over by the police for speeding, making it the most expensive Turkey Bowl ever.

At this point, the game is really an excuse to get together and catch up with everyone's life. For example, I learned a guy I went to high school with is now a teacher in Louisiana. If not for the Turkey Bowl, I'd have no idea what he was up to.

Phone calls are no longer made to set up the game. It's known that at 2 p.m. on the Friday after Thanksgiving, it's Turkey Bowl time. One of these years, I'll actually be in shape again and won't be sore for the three days after playing.

Georgia Southern Update: Leading 35-16 with 4:20 remaining in the third quarter, things were looking good for Georgia Southern. Unfortunately, I think the Eagles loaded up the bus and headed back towards the airport without finishing the game as Georgia Southern collapsed to lose 50-35 in the first round of the 1-AA playoffs. The loss ended the Eagles season at 8-4. The grumblings on the Georgia Southern message board is that the head coach needs to be fired. An altogether unsatisfying end to the season.

Fantasy update: I've generally tried to avoid using the same person as my fantasy girl, but when news broke Thanksgiving morning that Jessica Simpson was back on the market, well, there was only one choice for this week's Fantasy Girl. Jessica, if you're reading, Yes Dear and I have discussed it and she'd grant me a divorce to marry you and she'll marry Nick. It might be a little awkward around the holidays, but we'll get though it. In other fantasy news, the Fighting Squirrels are limping towards the end of the season, trailing in both leagues with little chance of winning. Despite that, I've sewn up a playoff spot in one league and will need someone to change the laws of mathematics for me to make the playoffs in another league.

Weekend update: For the first time since late August, I didn't have to work late on Friday night. To celebrate, Yes Dear and I went out to dinner with some friends in nearby Savannah. It was a lot of fun. Saturday, we watched Georgia Southern lose Sunday was laundry day. I've got to make better use of my weekends. Any suggestions?

Yes Dear Job Hunt update: Yes Dear is interviewing with Georgia Southern on Friday. (Initially it was supposed to be Tuesday, but some scheduling conflicts pushed it back to Friday.) She's been told she can't come to work on Thursday since the other candidate for the position she wants will be interviewing that day. (So if any of you are in Statesboro on Thursday and want to help me out, you can somehow sabotage the interview. It would really help us out a lot. Thanks.)

Next Update: Friday

Thanks for making the Nexus of the Universe a part of your day.

Truckin

2005-11-21T18:00:00.000-05:00

Growing up, I lived about 90 minutes away from my grandparents house. Just far enough away that we didn't go that often, but close enough that all major holidays (Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter) we would make an appearance either that day or one of the days around the holiday.

One year, about two days before Thanksgiving, we found out one of my mom's cousins, who was a trucker working for a circus - I believe, was to be in the area for something going on that weekend. Since no one had seen him in a while (I, for example, had never met him), he was obviously invited to spend Thanksgiving at my grandparents.

Sadly, around Tuesday night, it started raining. It wasn't one of those severe thunderstorms that dumps an inch-and-a-half of rain in an hour and then moves on. No, this was one of those three-day rains where it's never raining hard, but it's just always raining. Not something you really want when you're on vacation from school.

Before we get any further into the story, you have to understand my grandparents have a pretty large back yard. Both of them were golfers and they would chip balls in the back yard. (They also had a golf cart, which was our primary means of entertainment there when we were little because they didn't have cable.) The house is up on the front of the property, so there's plenty of room in the back. . . now, back to the story.

Well, Thursday morning, we wake up and head out to spend the day with my grandparents, rain still coming down. We get there and mom's cousin has driven his 18-wheeler and parked in the back yard. We do the whole introduction thing and after we found out he's been on the road with some fairly large musical acts (Madonna is the only one I can recall with certainty, but there were other big names as well), he was deemed "cool" by my brothers and me.

After a full afternoon of sharing stories, reminiscing about old times and generally just having a good time, someone points out that it's been raining for a few days and mom's cousin may want to move his truck to the side of the road to ensure he can leave early the next day. (You see where this is going, don't you?)

Well, he gets in to move his truck and it's hopeless. He's stuck, sunk in the mud with no hope of getting out. So now we have to find a tow company that's open on Thanksgiving to get him out of the mud so he'll be able to get to his job Friday.

We find one (by the way, it's no small feat that we were able to find a tow company open on Thanksgiving. My grandparents lived in a really small town) and it comes out to help get him unstuck. Only the ground is drenched and as the tow truck is trying to get the 18-wheeler out of the mud, it becomes stuck as well.

So, we do the obvious thing and call another tow company. (Thinking back, I'm shocked there were two tow companies in the town, much less that they were open on Thanksgiving.) At this point, it's starting to get late in the day and light is starting to become an issue. The second tow truck arrives and . . . yep, you guessed correctly, it also gets stuck. Now we have an 18-wheeler and two tow trucks in the back yard of my grandparents. And it's now dark. And he's got to leave early the next morning to make it to where he has to be for his job.

There's comedy. There's high comedy. And then there's having three large vehicles stuck in the mud behind your grandparents' house.

We eventually eat dinner, realizing there's nothing we can do at this point. My mom's cousin is obviously tense, wondering what he's going to do and how he's going to explain his predicament to his boss if he can't make it to his destination.

Finally, my parents decide it's time to head home since dad has to work the next day. We leave not knowing how mom's cousin is going to get out or what will become of the two tow trucks in the back yard. On the way home, we even discuss driving back up there Friday to watch the festivities unfold again. However, mom called up there Friday morning and was told her cousin was able to get out early Friday morning and get to Macon on time.

As a post script, I guess I should mention we haven't seen or heard from him since.

Fantasy update: Although I've never seen more than two minutes of The O.C., I have watched enough VH1 celebrity countdown shows to know that Rachel Bilson is 1. on that show; and 2. is hotter than Mischa Barton (Despite the fact that Mischa seems to get all the publicity from the show). Sadly, Rachel hasn't called yet asking for me to be her boyfriend in the show. In other fantasy news, the Fighting Squirrels once again split this week, leading 86-38 in one league (barring a miracle, I'll improve to 5-6 and still in playoff contention) while falling 131-105 in the other league to fall to 8-3. However, I'm still in first place in that league and appear to be cruising to a playoff spot.

Weekend update: Yes Dear woke up early on Saturday (and by early, I mean 9:30 a.m.) and went to do some school work at school, so I watched ESPN's College Gameday. Then, when she got back, we went to watch Michigan/Ohio State with my brother, followed by watching more college football. Sunday, after church, I watched more football and did the laundry while Yes Dear took a nap.

Desperate Housewives update: Bree finally broke her engagement to the creepy pharmacist George, who proceeded to torch the car of an old boyfriend of Bree's. Meanwhile, Susan found out her father wasn't in the Merchant Marines, but is, in fact, a merchant in town. Lynette paid a coworker to kidnap her children to prove a point.

Thanksgiving plans: I'll be leaving Wednesday morning to spend Wednesday and Thursday morning with Yes Dear's family for Thanksgiving before returning home Thursday afternoon to spend the rest of the day with my family. Sadly, I've got to work on Friday, but not Friday night. My editor has promised me I don't have to work that night.

Georgia Southern Update: While you've read about the Eagles from time to time here at the Nexus of the Universe, Saturday you'll have the opportunity to see them for yourself. On ESPN2 at 3:30 p.m. (Eastern), the Eagles will face Texas State in the first round of the 1-AA playoffs. If you've got nothing better to do, why not check them out.

Posting update: I've got no idea when I'll be able to post again this week. Friday may be a slow day at work, so there's a chance I could do it then. I may try to give a quick update from the satellite office of the Nexus of the Universe outside of Charleston, S. C.

All I want for Christmas is you

2005-11-18T11:03:00.000-05:00

Dear Mr. Claus,

Another year has gone by and yet again, this is the only letter I've sent you. I can't believe our friendship has been able to survive lo these many years when the only contact we have is one letter in November or early December and your surprise visit when I'm sleeping on Christmas Eve.

(You're probably wondering why I used a Mariah Carey song as the title of my letter. Well, since January I've been one of those "bloggers" that you've probably read about in the news. Part of my blog is that I title every entry with a song title. Also, it provides an opportunity to post a picture of Ms. Carey on here. As any good newspaper designer knows (speaking of that, how is the North Pole Gazette going?), you need to have pictures to break up the text.)

Like the past 25 years, I'd like to again appologize for not keeping in touch like I said I would. I know I promised to write you letters every other month letting you know how I was doing and how things were with myself and Yes Dear, and sadly, I got so busy during the year that I never got around to it.

In fairness to me, however, you really need to look into a new marketing coordinator. The only time people hear of you is during November and December. That said, I may have seen a few of your latest commercials in October, so maybe that marketing blitz I mentioned last year is beginning to show dividends. I'll write to you again in February to discuss that more. (Also, if you need a new marketing director, I think Yes Dear would be willing to relocate to the North Pole if the price is right.)

There's been something I've been meaning to ask you and it always slips my mind, but today, fortunately, I remembered. I know you have elves (is that still the PC term) make all the gifts you bring to the good little boys and girls, but I have to ask you about one major thing. How do you get around the copyright infringement laws? I know the past few years I've wanted DVDs or books and I can't imagine the companies being ok with your workforce manufacturing the exact same thing the companies are trying to sell. Do you have some kind of an agreement with them? I know you have a tight budget that you have to stay on, so there's no way you could afford to actually buy everything you distribute.

Also, do you ever feel wrong for deceiving so many children by hiring look-alikes to sit in shopping malls pretending to be you? When I found out they were only helpers and not really you, it was almost enough to make me believe you weren't real. Then my mother reminded me that if I didn't believe you were real, I wouldn't get any presents. But I wonder how you can expect children to be nice and not naughty when you, yourself, are perpetuating a lie on these innocent, naive children. Just something to think about. Perhaps you may want to put a disclaimer somewhere around your helpers to let them know they're not dealing with the real thing.

Anyway, I'm sure I've taken up more than enough of your time. You've got millions of letters to read and your midget workforce doesn't have a lot of time to process the requests and get everything ready.

With that said, here's my list of things I'd like this year (providing you've got that copyright and licensing thing all worked out.) In no particular order:

Television Stuff:
1. Law & Order DVDs (while I'd like the original, the SVU and Criminal Intent ones would also be nice. Be sure to coordinate with Yes Dear, the parental units and the parental in-laws with this.)
2. Seinfeld DVDs (you'll recall I've got season 1-2, so the newest one's would be what I'd like)

Sports Clothing:
3. A new Cubs and Georgia Southern hat.
4. Cubs windbreaker
5. Aramis Rameriz jersey (preferably the alternate blue jersey)

Video Games (I hope I never reach the day when I'm too old to ask for video games)
6. Madden 2006 (I know, I should have this by now, but I don't, so can you hook me up?)
7. NCAA football 2006 (Again, I know I should have this.)

Books:
8. Last Night of the Yankee Dynasty By Buster Olney
9. Moneyball By Michael Lewis
10. Three nights in August By Buzz Bissinger

Dreaming Big:
11. 42 inch high-definition television

That, actually, is pretty much what I'd like. Sure, I know there's the clothes and shoes and other typical stuff I get each year (and I do appreciate it), but of the things I want, that pretty much covers it.

Thanks again for your time, Mr. Claus.

Misty Mountain Hop

2005-11-16T18:00:00.000-05:00

I went. I saw. I went home.

That, in a nutshell, was my experience in Boone, North Carolina Monday and Tuesday as Yes Dear interviewed to be their new fitness director (maybe it's fitness coordinator. Either way, it's some exercising job.)

While she was off teaching aerobics classes, meeting with the Appalachian State University recreation staff, touring the campus and generally being treated like royalty, I was a mere commoner left to navigate the strange land on my own.

Unfortunately, my sense of direction was severely damaged by the tragic Mountain Dew overdose of 1994, so the idea of driving around a new town, even one as small as Boone, was nothing something I was looking forward to doing.

We got to ASU around 2:15 p.m. and checked in. Yes Dear then proceeded to practice her aerobics routine one more time while I flipped though the channels and remembered why I'm glad I have a day job. Around 4ish, she gets whisked away to teach her class and then go to dinner.

(Quick side note: App. State's transit system is called the AppalCART. I thought that was clever)

I, meanwhile, am left to fend for myself. Since I fear getting lost and dying in the streets of Boone with a map at my feet, I figure I'd better go get something to eat before it gets dark. Unfortunately, that's fairly early and I spend the rest of the night watching TV, grateful for Cable and a cable listings guide in the room.

Around 10 p.m., Yes Dear returns, excited about how things went and looking forward to the next day. Unfortunately, she's got to get up at 7 a.m. to be ready for her 8 a.m. breakfast interview. I, on the other hand, am hoping to sleep as late as possible since I've got another day to kill and have to be out of the hotel by 11 a.m.

After driving around downtown Boone for a little while Tuesday morning, I head up to the ASU football stadium (I'm a sports geek, but you should know that by now.) After realizing there's no parking near the stadium, I figure I'll drive around and look at some houses. After all, there's a chance I could be moving there soon. (Actually, unless you're only parking for an hour, there's nowhere to park in Boone at all. If you're a visitor, you're screwed if you just want to walk around.)

Well, after about 10 minutes, I realize I'm lost and I'm cursing that fateful night in 1994. After a short while, I see a highway I recognize from the map. I'm not sure which way I need to turn on this highway to get me back where I want to go, but I figure I've got a 50/50 shot of picking the right way.

I picked incorrectly.

After driving about five miles out of my way, I realize "hey, I'm going the wrong way." I find a place to turn around and head back to the hotel.

By the way, I should mention that the hotel is at the top of a very, large mountain. But, I'm young. I'm in shape. I figure it'll be no problem to walk from there to the bottom and tour campus (about six-tenths of a mile.)

About halfway down the mountain (DOWN), I realize I'm going to be screwed in my attempt to climb back up it. I'm not that young. And I'm definitely not in shape. But, at this point, it's either continue down the mountain to find something to do for five hours or sit in a hotel lobby watching FOX News for six hours.

For the next five hours, I wander around ASU, reading their student newspaper, watching their students throw the football around on their field, killing hours in their bookstore (and if it wasn't for my Mom's "you can't buy anything for yourself after Halloween" rule, - she's fearful I'll buy myself something she's buying me for Christmas - I'd have bought a book and been entertained.)

After exhausting every possible thing to do on campus, I proceeded to head back to the hotel. A 25-minute walk up the mountain left me breathless, sore and begging to be put out of my misery.

About 5:30, Yes Dear arrives back at the hotel. Sadly, this is about the same time the fog rolled in. I'm not talking about a light fog that causes you to slow down to five miles over the speed limit. I'm talking about I-can't-see-five-feet-in-front-of-me type fog. Yes Dear drives about five miles-per-hour down whatever mountain we were on, trying (and I stress "trying" to focus on the white line on the right of the road. Sometimes we could see it. Other times, we hoped we didn't drive off the side of the mountain.

Eventually we get out of the fog and decide if it's like that on a regular basis, maybe Boone's not for us.

(By the way, since we're talking about the weather here, I figure now's as good a time as any to tell you I feel cheated in my trip to Boone. Watching the weather Monday night, they said the city was experiencing near-record highs. That's not a true indication of what the city's like. Tuesday, the low was in the mid-50s. Wednesday morning, the lows were to be in the mid-20s. That's like being told you can date Lindsay Lohan, but instead of getting the "Mean Girls" version of Lohan, you get the crack addict version.)

Weekend update: GSU football on Saturday, NFL and laundry on Sunday. God I'm boring. Why are you reading again?

Fantasy update: Speaking of Lindsay Lohan, let's remember when she was pretty as the Fantasy Update girl this week. In other Fantasy News, the Fighting Squirrels are leading a charmed life, winning 47-45 in one league to improve to 8-2 while in the other league, I won 80-77 to improve to 4-6.

Work Update: As you may recall, last Friday was supposed to be the last Friday night I would be working. As you can probably tell from the fact that I used the word "supposed," there's been a change of plans. I feel like the guy from Office Space.
Ahh, I'm going to have to go ahead and ask you to come in on Sunday, too...
Not good times.

See you Friday for my Christmas list.

Running on Empty

2005-11-13T19:40:00.000-05:00

I'd like to thank Jackson Browne for making this a hit and giving me a blog title tonight.

Sorry I missed Friday's scheduled post. And sorry in advance for missing Monday's.

Yes Dear has an interview at Appalachian State Monday and Tuesday and I'll be up there supporting her. (How I'll do that, I've got no idea. I don't think I'm allowed anywhere near her during the interview process, so I'll probably drive around Boone, get lost, ask for directions back to campus and stay in the hotel room most of the time. With luck, they'll have cable. If not, it could be a long trip.

I should be back Wednesday with a new post, complete with the Fantasy Update, Weekend Update as well as my experience in Boone. It's supposed to be rainy and cold the entire time we'll be up there, so if I come across as bitter on Wednesday, it's because I am.

Thanks for making the Nexus of the Universe a part of your day. With so many choices out there, we appreciate you choosing us. (Yes Dear said I should say thanks for choosing "me," but at this point, you all feel like you know her, even if she doesn't write anything, so on behalf of "us", thanks for reading.)

See you Wednesday.

Celebration

2005-11-07T18:00:00.000-05:00

Yep, that's Kool and the Gang, for those scoring at home, or if you're by yourself.

Here it is, almost 48 hours later, and I'm still riding the emotional high that came from Georgia Southern's 27-24 win over arch-rival Furman.

Unfortunately, words fail me as I try, two days later, to accurately describe the atmosphere inside the stadium during the game. (And yes, I'm not the first Statesboro Blogger to write about this, see Scott and Stacey's blog for other, and probably better written, perspectives)

We (Yes Dear, Official Brother, myself and a few of Official Brother's friends) got inside the stadium about an hour before kickoff to get our seats near the 35 yard line directly behind the Georgia Southern band. (I apologize, "seats" is misleading as we stood up for the entire game . . . More on that later.)

With more than 20 minutes to go before kickoff, we were begging the football gods to speed time up for kickoff. There was a buzz inside the stadium that I don't recall being there for a regular season game since 1999 when Georgia Southern also played Furman.

When the game finally started, the crowd stayed in the game for all four quarters (a rarity at Georgia Southern where many of the students leave at halftime to go watch UGA play and the "old folks" side usually acts as though they're watching a golf match.)

The Eagles fell behind early 7-0 and 10-7 before taking a 14-10 lead with 8:31 remaining before halftime. Just before the end of the second quarter, the Eagles appeared to have scored another touchdown that would have put them up 21-10, but the officials ruled quaterback Jayson Foster fumbled before crossing the goalline, despite video evidence to the contrary.

This lead to us spending the entire halftime complaining about "H", the head linesman who started to signal touchdown before changing his call and saying it was a fumble. We were less than thrilled at that time and felt it might be necessary to throw a rock at his house, Official Brother's cure-all for any perceived grievance.

Furman rallied after halftime to take a 17-14 lead before the Eagles responded with a touchdown of their own to go ahead 20-17 (we missed the extra point.) Furman scored 5:12 remaining in the third quarter to take a 24-20 lead, setting up the final quarter.

With 8:40 remaining in the game, the Eagles got the ball at their own 13. They proceeded to scare the living daylights out of us by converting on third and fourth downs more than my heart could take.

Facing a 3rd and 17 on the Furman 43, Foster found Chris Dickerson (I realize these names mean nothing to you, I really do) on a 35 yard pass that looked like a wounded duck when it was thrown.

Two plays later, the Eagles scored the go ahead touchdown with only 1:02 remaining, making the score 27-24. At that point, the crowd went nuts. Jumping up and down in the bleachers, high fiving complete strangers who, at that point were as close to you as your best man at your wedding. Guys hugging other guys with no fear of being labed as gay. It was euphoric. Again, words fail me here. If you've experienced that feeling at a sporting event, you know exactly what I'm talking about. If not, there just aren't words in the English language to adequately describe that moment.

But there was still over a minute to go and Furman has a history of coming back late to win games. However, on a first down from the Georgia Southern 30 (very close to being in range for a game-tying field goal), Georgia Southern's Terrance McBride intercepted an errant pass from the Furman quarterback to seal the win.

More euphoria. More hugging. More jumping up and down. More random high fives. It's those moments that I, as a sports fan, attend games for. You can't replicate those feelings in any other setting and just being a part of it makes it worth all the crappy games you sit though.

In college, most of my friends went to Georgia Southern games without fail. They were as big a fans as I was. Sadly, when they graduated, the moved away and only come to a few games. As we were leaving the stadium, I told Yes Dear "I feel bad for all our friends who didn't bother to come to this game."

Yes Dear was among those who would go to the games with us, but she never really got into the games. For her, it was more of an excuse to get together with her friends and talk while not being inside their apartments. Sure, they'd know if we won or lost, but they weren't ever that into the game. (It's like the book, "He's just not that into you.") She has a general disdain for football and the fact that I revolve my schedule around games irks her to no end.

But Saturday was different. I think, for the first time, she finally understands what it's like to be truly engrossed in a game.

In fact, she summed up everything Saturday night when she said "If all the games were like that, I'd like football."

Fantasy Update: Sure she dated Tom Cruise, but she was smart enough not to be taken in by his wacky Scientology friends. Add to that the fact that she's gorgeous and you've got all the makings of a Fantasy Update girl . . . one Penelope Cruz. In other fantasy news, the Fighting Squirrels had a decent week, winning 90-87 in one league (making me 7-2 and in first place, by the way), while winning 46-45 in my other league, but not feeling confident, leading to
What I'm hoping for tonight (not involving Yes Dear): I need Brandon Stokley to score the same number of points as the Colts' kicker. Things don't look good for the Squirrels, even with the hiring of Rocket J. Squirrel.

Weekend update: If Saturday was emotionally draining, Sunday was physically draining. Apparently I ate something my stomach was none to thrilled with Saturday night. Without going into much detail, my body spent Sunday ridding itself of anything and everything I'd ate or drank in the past 24 hours, including water. Not good times, but I'm better now.

Desperate Housewives update: There's no way Bree would be dating George this soon after her husband's death. And even if she did, they would not be going on a romantic weekend together. She cares too much about what other people think to do that and her friends certainly wouldn't approve of her moving on so quickly. Susan crying in a wedding dress in the middle of Wisteria Lane was good television as well.

School Update: Despite being done with her thesis, I still haven't seen much of Yes Dear as she's catching up on projects for her other classes. The good news: I've still got control over the television. The bad news: (It's to easy to make a joke here, so I'll let you come up with your own.)

Work update: I thought last Friday was going to be my last one working until midnight. However, Chief Bossman came in and told me he needed me to work again this Friday night. So once again, while you're out having fun and enjoying your weekend, I'll be sitting at a desk praying to the football gods to not let anything go into overtime.

I'm so excited

2005-11-04T19:30:00.000-05:00

I know, a Pointer Sisters song? What am I thinking. Well, it's the best I could come up with . Sorry.

Georgia Southern.
Furman.

To fans of 1-AA football, there really isn't a need to say anything else. However, since I'm assuming most of the people who frequent the Nexus of the Universe aren't fans of 1-AA football, allow me to explain why I'm looking forward to this game more than any game in the past three years.

Normally Georgia Southern-Furman games are colossal in the 1-AA landscape. To say tomorrow's game is colossal does a disservice to the word. No, tomorrow's game is enormous. It's gigantic. It's. . . well . . . ginormous.

Georgia Southern is the most successful program in the history of 1-AA football. We've won six national championships. We've won more playoff games than any other school, despite the fact we were six years late getting to the party.

Furman is the Eagles' arch-rival. Dating back to the first two times the teams met in 1985 and 1988, there always seems to be something on the line. In those first two, a national title was at stake. In 1985 Georgia Southern came from 28-6 down in the title game to top Furman 44-42 to give the Eagles their first title.

Three years later, Furman returned the favor, winning 17-12 for the Paladins only championship.

Since that time, the Eagles and Paladins have squared of at Paulson Stadium in Statesboro several times, with the Paladins winning about as often as Rosie O'Donnel at a Tyra Banks look-alike contest.

This time, however, is different.

Furman comes in ranked number one in the country for the first time in the program's history. They're riding a six-game winning streak and are looking to secure the top seed in the 16-team tourament. Things are looking good for the Paladins.

Meanwhile, Georgia Southern is ranked 14th in 1-AA. Not bad, but their record sits at 6-3. One more loss would effectively knock them out of the playoffs. They need this game like a fat kid needs cake.

Add to the mix that the rumblings around Statesboro is that the Eagles head coach needs this win to keep his job and you've got all the makings for a fantastic day at the stadium.

(Cheesy anouncer voice): But wait, there's more.

At halftime, Georgia Southern will be honoring the members of the 1985 championship team (you know, the ones that beat Furman.) Making things more intriging is that Furman's head coach was the quarterback of the 1985 Paladin squad.

I haven't looked forward to a game this much since my last semester in school when the Eagles and Paladins squared off in the semi-finals. Georgia Southern jumped out to an early lead, but Furman stormed back in the second half to give the Eagles their first home playoff loss in school history.

(The week leading up to that game, word got out that the Eagles head coach would be leaving at the end of the season to take over as head coach at Navy. Did that play a role in the Eagles loss? I don't know. However, the next year, Furman faced the same situation when it was reported their coach would be leaving at the end of the season and the Palidins lost their next playoff game.)

For fans of either program, this is the game they circle on the calander. I know I did. And now, it's almost here.

My pick:
Georgia Southern - 27
Furman - 20

(Remember, all picks by the Nexus of the Universe guaranteed wrong or your money back.)

1999

2005-11-02T16:47:00.000-05:00

So tonight I'm gonna party like it's 1999

Hello faithful readers.

I figured I'd give you a short midweek update and let you know Yes Dear successfully defended her thesis yesterday. (I think she took my advice of using a zone defense with a few blitzes.)

She still has to make a few minor changes and get it published, but she's been given the all clear to graduate in December. (Happy happy, joy joy.)

Needless to say, she was excited. Sadly, our town enacted an ordinance eliminating happy hour that morning, so she didn't drink as much as she planned.

Reader Poll:
Since my last post has generated apparent interest in the Fantasy Update girl (right now we're evenly split on whether Fergie is hot or not), this is your chance to submit your choices. Feel free to post a comment with who you'd like to see as the Fantasy Update girl and I'm sure I'll use a few of the suggestions.

Once again, thanks for picking the Nexus of the Universe as your choice to waste a few minutes of your day. You could have wasted them anywhere, but you picked here, and I appreciate it.

Cat Scratch Fever

2005-10-31T18:00:00.000-05:00

Yes, I know "Cat Scratch Fever" may be a stretch in a post about the movie "Fever Pitch." The lesson, as always, is I'm a failure as a blogger.

I knew going in I wouldn't be overly thrilled with the movie Fever Pitch. First and foremost, it starred form SNL cast member Jimmy Fallon. Unfortunately, the movie wasn't filmed live, so I didn't have the joy of waiting for him to start laughing during the scene and ruining every sketch.

Secondly, it was a chick flick disguised as a baseball movie. Instead of potentially losing her man to another woman, Drew Barrymore had to fight to keep from losing her man to the Boston Red Sox.

Finally, the whole time I was watching, I never forgot I was watching a movie. I never connected with the characters in a way that I cared what happened. If anything, I found myself enjoying the baseball scenes and reliving the 2004 playoffs than anything the movie had to offer.

In fact, if you see only one movie this year, I recommend you getting out more. However, if you're limiting yourself to just one movie, don't let it be this one.

For those who haven't seen it, here's a quick plot summary (without revealing the ending in case my diatribe against this movie isn't enough to convince you to avoid it.). Fallon is a huge Red Sox fan and hasn't missed an inning of a home game in several years. In October, 2003, he meets Barrymore and begins a relationship with her. (My first major problem with the movie. No diehard Red Sox fan would be emotionally available in October, 2003 to begin a new relationship. If you recall (or didn't know), Red Sox fans had their hearts ripped out, stomped on and handed back to them with a "better luck next time" by the Yankees, who ended the Red Sox World series dream with an extra-inning home run in Game 7. Anyone who claims to be a Red Sox fan would have been in such a deep funk that he would have been intolerable for several weeks afterward. I should know, the Cubs did that to me in 2003 and I know I wasn't pleasant to be around.)

Anyway, they date though the winter and then, when baseball season rolls around, Fallon tells Barrymore he can't meet her family in Baltimore because he and his buddies are going to Spring Training in Florida. That's when the trouble starts. Barrymore expects Fallon to make some sacrifices for him, Fallon doesn't want to give up something he's loved for the past 23 years.

This leads to my second complaint about the movie. Drew Barrymore is cute, but she's not cute enough that you would abandon your team for.

The movie has some decent one-liners and if you're not a hardcore sports fan who can tell how the directors manipulated the game footage to fit their needs, I guess it's not a terrible movie. It definitely wouldn't make Scott's 50 Movies Every Guy should Own list.

Also this weekend, we watched "The Wedding Date," which was better than "Fever Pitch," if only because it had Debra Messing in it. However, when the plot of your movie is that a woman who looks like Debra Messing can't get a date for her sister's wedding, you're again asking me to take a leap into make believe that I'm not sure needs to be taken. (Debra Messing may be someone you would consider giving up baseball for, but I think in the end, baseball would win that battle as well.)

In case you couldn't tell, Yes Dear wanted a relaxing weekend after working on her thesis for the better part of the past several months.

Weekend update: Not much to report from this weekend. Football, movies, dinner with the parents and Law & Order: Criminal Intent and Crossing Jordan pretty much took up my weekend. Sadly, I'll never get those two days back. (On a related note, I don't like Jill Hennessey's new boyfriend on Crossing Jordan. He's the stereotypical reporter - obnoxious, intrusive and downright annoying - and there's no way he could get someone as attractive as Hennessey in real life.)

Fantasy update: Fergie from the Black Eyed Peas hasn't asked me to be her publicist yet, and in other fantasy news, the Fighting Squirrels should go 1-1 this week as we currently lead 78-57 in one league, with my opponent having no one playing in tonight's game. In the other, I've lost 68-53, giving me a three-week losing streak. (And while we're on the subject of fantasy sports, do you think players ever get upset when fans complain about how the player's performance affects his fantasy team. You know the players all want to turn and yell "get a life you loser" but don't want to read about it on some message board or desultory blog.)

TV Show update: If you're not watching "How I Met Your Mother" (Monday's, 8:30 Eastern on CBS), please take 30 minutes out of your week to give it a shot. It's pretty good, plus it has Doogie Houser in it, which bumps it up about 3 notches in my book. Remember, all suggestions by The Nexus of the Universe are just that, suggestions. If you don't like it, please don't blame me for wasting 30 minutes of your life.

As always, thanks for choosing to make me a part of your day. There are thousands of blogs to choose from and I appreciate you picking mine to read.

Dancing Machine

2005-10-28T13:25:00.000-04:00

What do you get when you cross a tap dancing hillbilly from the hills of West Virginia with a schizophrenic Elvis fan who rigged a microphone in his room so he could sing The King's songs with a documentary about the whole thing?

You get 45 minutes of entertainment that should be required viewing for anyone and everyone on this planet seeking to feel better about themselves. As luck would have it, such a documentary exists in the form of Dancing Outlaw.

The story is about Jesco White (though he asks that you call him Jessie, it's easier to say.) He is the son of the legendary (and I use that term loosely) tap dancer Donald Ray "D-Ray" White and feels its his legacy to carry on the tradition of tap dancing that his father perfected. And he'll practice anywhere. In the film, we see him (carrying a hand held radio, no less) tapping across a bridge, down by the river (next to Matt Foley's van) and even on top of the dog house in his hard. (One website described this as the "famous doghouse scene," which has to be the first time in history those words have ever been so close together in a coherent phrase.)

Truth be told, Jesco isn't nearly as good as his father (who passed away before the documentary was made.) However, I get the feeling Jesco is twice as entertaining, even if he doesn't intend to be. In fact, I'd wager to say Jesco White is a perfect 10 on the Unintentional Comedy Scale.

In addition to his tap dancing, White has one of the rooms in the trailer in which he lives dedicated to Elvis. Pictures, rugs, miniature statues adorn the room, which is covered from floor to ceiling with Elvis paraphernalia. At one point, Jesco said "If it wasn't for my Elvis room, I'd have killed myself by now." He's also got a sound system set up in the room that allows him to sing along with The King, though he amazingly doesn't know all the words. (Since watching the documentary, I've since learned Jesco's trailer burned down, and presumably all his Elvis stuff was lost in the fire.)

To say Jesco is mentally unstable would be an insult to mentally unstable people everywhere. During one interview, with his wife sitting next to him, Jesco tells of the time he held a knife up to his wife's throat and threatened to kill her if his eggs were runny again. It's funnier than it looks in print, I promise.

Speaking of his wife, Jesco's own mother doesn't know what he sees in her. "He loves her, for some reason," she said.

None of this seems to phase our hero and Jesco continues tap dancing whenever he gets the opportunity. In fact, his fame spread so far that he even mad an appearance on Roseanne. (That is the sequel, "Dancing Outlaw II: Jesco goes to Hollywood" I haven't seen that one yet.)

In trying to find the appropriate way to approach this blog, I ran across the following paragraph (believe it or not, I actually do research every now and again for this thing. This probably sums up the Dancing Outlaw experience better than anything I could write.)

"Jesco's wife, Norma Jean, tells us that Jesco is three people: "He is Jesse, he is Jesco, and he is Elvis." When he is Jesse, he is a sweet, strangely handsome, even-tempered man who "just wants good, honest dancing and for people to enjotheir selflf." When he is Elvis, he is Elvis. But when he grows out his beard and becomes Jesco, he is, as Norma Jean puts it, "the Devil in his self." We meet each of these men as the film goes along, and we spend enough time with Jesco's brothers and sisters not to have to wonder what might have caused his personality to split. Particularly incredible is a scene in which the Whites and their friends (sans Jesco and his wife, who have decided to keep a distance from the rest of the family) are shown "mud-balling," a sport that involves drinking beer out of cans and tearing the front yard to hell with their cars and trucks, often blowing their engines in the process, which delights them. "This is just a little something we do every now and then," Jesco's sister Mamie explains, "two, three times a week." (From here.)

Luke, how in the world did you come across such a bizarre thing? Official Brother's friends new a guy who knew someone who was taking a Southern Culture class at Furman University (All price of an Ivy League education, none of the prestige) who, after watching it for class, felt the need to spread the word of film fim. After seeing it myself, I feel it's my duty as a person who likes to laugh at other people to urge you to watch this movie. You won't be disappointed.

World Series Update: When I predicted the Astros would win in six games, what I meant to say was the White Sox would sweep.

Weekend plans: No big plans. Yes Dear's going tHalloweenween party tonight while I'm at work, but other than that, nothing big planned.

Have a good weekend all and, as always, I appreciate you taking the time to let me be a part of your day.

Don't Stop Believing

2005-10-26T18:00:00.000-04:00

For reasons unbeknownst to me, the White Sox have adopted Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" as their theme song.

I'll admit it. I'm a failure as a blogger. I missed both my Monday and Tuesday deadline and I'm essentially missing my Wednesday deadline as I'm going to post some quick thoughts about the World Series.

However, I promise you, eventually I'll find the time to adequately address the Dancing Outlaw. (What's the Dancing Outlaw, you ask? Well, only the most finely crafted documentary about a hillbilly tap dancer from the hills of West Virginia that has been produced in the past 15 years. And I know your follow up question as well . . . why were you watching a documentary about a tap dancing hillbilly? Well, for the answer to that, as well as my take on the best 45 minutes of film I've seen this year, you'll have to wait until I can create a coherent post about it.)

So now, with the White Sox up three games to none in a best of seven series, here's what I've noticed so far.

1. Tim McCarver is the worst color commentator in the history of televised sports. For someone played the game for several years and who watches as much baseball as anyone else in the country, McCarver seems to have a very poor grasp of the game. Either that or he has trouble communicating what he's thinking to the viewing public. Websites have been dedicated to the eradication of Tim McCarver from the airwaves. Even Yes Dear will hear his say something and look at me with the "there's no way he's a professional broadcaster" look on his face. FOX would have been better hiring George Costanza as a commentator (It was one of his dreams, but unfortunately, as Jerry told him, they tend to give those jobs to ex-ballplayers and people who are, you know, in broadcasting, to which George responds "That's really not fair.")

2. I hope the FOX executive who approved Scooter, the talking baseball that explains to kids what different pitches are, has been strung up by his toes and used as a piñata at the FOX Christmas party. Scooter should be on his (imaginary) knees and thanking the baseball gods that McCarver still works for FOX. Otherwise, the wrath of angry baseball fans would be directed at this little, digitized ball. My favorite thing about Scooter is that the first time FOX ever used him, it was at 10:45 at night, meaning most of the target audience was already in bed. Yep, those guys at FOX really know what they're doing.

3. White Sox catcher A. J. Pierzynski looks like that guy from college who you would go out with for a good time and when you got arrested, he would sell you up the river. He has that look in his eye that he'd be more than happy to push you down the stairs (my replacement phrase for the vastly overused "throw you under the bus") if it would help him get ahead. I can only hope that his wife dumps him, loses 15 pounds, gets implants and shows up at Spring Training dating the backup catcher for the Sox. If any of you have a direct link to the baseball gods, see if you can make this happen.

4. This year's World Series may go down as the lowest rated series of all time. Part of the problem may be the tennis-match that was Game 3. (I refuse to call something a marathon game because most marathon winners finish in less than 2 hours and 15 minutes. Tennis matches, meanwhile, have been known to last four or more hours. Game 3 went 5 hours and 41 minutes, enough time for two-and-a-half marathons.) The game didn't end until 2:20 in the a.m. I made the mistake of curling up under the covers in bed at 11:30 to watch the end of the game. By 12:30, I was struggling to keep my eyes open. By 1:15, I'm pretty sure I was asleep. Fortunately, the home run call from Joe Buck woke me up at 2:15 to see the replay and catch the last bit of the game. By the way, if it weren't for the 32 oz. Mountain Dew, you wouldn't be reading this right now. In fact, if it weren't for the sweet, sweet nectar of the gods that is caffeine, I would be coming up with an excuse as to why I wasn't at work today.

5. You may not have heard, but the Simpson's Tree house of Horror is November 6. (FOX has felt the need to remind us every commercial break for the past month. At this point, I don't plan on watching out of spite.)

Belated Fantasy Update: Much like my fantasy teams, I struck out this week in the hopes that Cobie Smolders (who plays Robin on "How I Met Your Mother") would call me. The Fighting Squirrels, meanwhile, lost in both leagues, falling 75-73 in one league while falling 77-73 in the other league. If things don't improve, we'll be making some staff changes in the Squirrels front office.

Belated Weekend Update: It was homecoming at Georgia Southern, so several of my college friends all converged on Statesboro for a good time. Granted, I got about 11 hours of sleep Friday and Saturday night combined, but it was worth it. After everyone left Sunday afternoon, I went to my parents were we all watched Dancing Outlaw together. A good time was had by all.

Desperate Housewives update: Due to the World Series, I didn't watch Desperate Housewives this week. If anyone can give me an update on what happened, I would greatly appreciate it.

World Series related link of the week: Ever wondered why the Red Sox and White Sox spell their names the way they do? Wonder no more.

Thesis update: Yes Dear finished all the writing on her Thesis Tuesday night and is currently working on her presentation for the committee. If all goes well next Tuesday when she defends her thesis (I've recommended going with a zone defense), the Corona's in my refrigerator won't be there after Tuesday night.

Loser

2005-10-24T17:40:00.000-04:00

Soy un perdedor
I'm a loser baby
so why don't you kill me

I know, I promised an update Monday night.Unfortunately, I haven't had the time to dedicate to writing like I planned. Sadly, you'll have to wait until tomorrow for all the great features you've come to know and tolerate here at the Nexus of the Universe, including Fantasy Update, Weekend Update and others.

All I can say is "I am sorry" and post this picture.

However, rest assured that I've stumbled across a gold mine for my next post, which will hopefully be ready tomorrow evening.

Until then, I hope you find some other way to waste the four minutes you were planning on spending here.

Sweet Home Chicago

2005-10-21T12:00:00.000-04:00

And now for some desultory comments regarding the baseball playoffs, writers, my World Series pick and other stuff.

1. The answer to everyone's question: No, I'm not cheering for the White Sox in the World Series even though they're located in the same city as the Cubs. In fact, from what I understand, White Sox fans are leery of Cubs fans jumping on their bandwagon. Not that I blame them.

I'm the same guy who offers everyone in the office a one time offer each season to jump on the Cubs bandwagon in April. Thus far, only Yes Dear has joined me (and that only because she figures she'll be watching close to 60 games a year as well as seeing highlight every night.)

I have a general disdain for bandwagon jumpers. (Granted, I'm the same guy who, a few columns ago, suggested that Red Sox fans might have been happier if they'd changed their loyalties to the Yankees, but I wouldn't have respected them if they'd done that.) Sure, you pick a team when you're eight because you like their mascot or one of their players has the same first name that you do, but that's your team. If a team in the same city does well, you might be happy for them. Heck, you might even be cheering for them to win the World Series, but under no circumstances can you start wearing that team's hats, showing up at the ballpark and acting like a longtime fan or even celebrate (in the event that they win). The fact of the matter is that your team didn't win. Nothing else in sports matters.

2. As you may have noticed, I'm reading "Now I Can Die in Peace" by Bill Simmons. (I constantly bring this up because I read so few books that when I do read one, I want to make sure everyone knows about it.)

One of the things he manages to capture in his writing is the passion he has for the Red Sox. (No, non-sports fans, that's not a typo. There are two "Sox" franchises in baseball. I'm not sure of the origins of the names for the two teams, but there was some sort of hex placed on them. The Red Sox went from 1918 to 2004 without winning a World Series, while the White Sox haven't won a title since 1917.)

After reading each of Simmons columns, I know exactly how he felt on that particular day. Granted, writing about your favorite sports team after a loss that feels like a sucker punch to the stomach is like blogging about your relationship with your significant other right after a big fight. You're probably going to write some things you don't really mean, but at the time it feels good to write it.

Sadly, I'm still trying to capture that ability of conveying my passion in my writing. I go back and read my posts from time to time and think "my God, why is anyone reading this drivel?" I'll strive to get better, I promise.

3. Remember on "Saved by the Bell: Hawaiian Vacation" when the local tribe thought Screech was their long lost leader? I thought about that today for no reason and wanted to share that with the rest of you.

4. Detailed sports discussion here. Non-sports fans, feel free to skip ahead. I was totally shocked to see the Astros rebound the way they did after Albert Pujols' home run in game five. I was watching that game and, even though I was pulling for Houston, I wanted to see Pujols face Brad Lidge with the game on the line. After all, Lidge is the best closer in baseball and Pujols is the best hitter in the game.

In fact, Pujols has reached the point (along with Manny Ramirez and Vladimir Guerreo) as hitters I'll delay going to the bathroom to watch. (Oddly enough, I call this the bathroom test. Non-sports moments that make the list include any time Jon Stewart is on, the final 15 minutes of any Law & Order episode, and selected moments in Big Brother). Pujols is a professional hitter, meaning he's going to have a quality at bat every time. He rarely swings at anything out of the strike zone, makes solid contact and puts the fear of God into every opposition fan whenever he's at the plate. The fact that the Cubs play his team 17 times a year scares me to death.

Lidge, meanwhile, has gone from middle reliever to All-Star closer in less than two years. He's got a 98 mph fastball (sorry Canadians, I don't know what that is in kph) and a slider that, when it's working, is unhittable.

So when Pujols and Lidge were squaring off in the 9th inning of Game 5, I knew I was in for something special. Lidge threw a slider on the first pitch that made Pujols look bad. I mean really bad. Since he'd been having trouble locating his fastball, Lidge went back to the well for another slider. Well, you know what they say about going to the well once to often. Lidge's slider sat right in the middle of the plate and Pujols crushed it deep into the Houston night for an improbable comeback win for St. Louis.

In fact, on the team plane flight from Houston to St. Louis, one of Lidge's teammates walked up to him on the plane and joked "if you look our your window, you'll see the ball Pujols hit last night. It still hasn't landed."

4. World Series Pick: Having seen Houston play quite a bit this year (they also played the Cubs 17 times this season, including seven of their last 10 games), I think their pitching is too much for the White Sox to overcome. My pick: Houston in six (Note: All picks by The Nexus of the Universe are guaranteed wrong or your money back.)

Weekend update: It's Homecoming weekend here at Georgia Southern. Friends will be down, stories will be told, laughs will be had and it'll be like old times. Only several of us are married, some have kids, and we're all "responsible" adults, unlike our college years.

Georgia Southern pick: The Eagles have been up and down this year. I think they'll play decent Saturday and pull out a 24-10 win.

Thesis update: Yes Dear spent a good portion of last night putting some last minute touches on her thesis. She'll make some final minor editing changes on Monday and will be done writing it by Wednesday. She defends it on November 1 at 9 a.m. (In case you're wondering, I'll be in a Statesboro City Council meeting at that time, so I can't go support her. (Stupid job.)
Correction: Somewhere earlier in this blog, I said Yes Dear was graduating on December 10. In fact, it's on December 9.

As always, thanks for reading and until next time, take care of yourself, and each other.

Next update: Monday night

Three is the magic number . . .

2005-10-17T21:18:00.000-04:00

Come on, you know you love School House Rock.

Bored at work one night, I started clicking the "Next Blog" button to see what interesting things I would come across on this whole internet thingy. My three observations:

1. The word "Random" appears in nearly every blog. There may not be a more overused word in blogland than "random." Honestly, there are other words that mean the same thing, including, but not limited to: chance, casual, haphazard, desultory. (Desultory?!? If I saw that, I'd definitely stop reading as whoever wrote that would obviously be much too intelligent for me to read.)
In case you're curious: desultory \DES-uhl-tor-ee\, adjective:
1. Jumping or passing from one thing or subject to another without order or rational connection; disconnected; aimless.

2. I saw this here and curiosity made me try it:

1. Delve into your blog archive.
2. Find your 23rd post.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.

My sentence:
I want the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue and a Victoria's Secret catalogue to appear in my mailbox on the same day.

That may be the most profound statement ever to appear in the Nexus of the Universe. (It also provides a convenient excuse for a gratuitous model photo.

3. There are too many blogs dealing with people's kids. Look, I'm sure you're excited that your little darling kicked the dog and then fed dirt to the goldfish, but the rest of us don't really care about your little hellion. Just tell your friends when they call you and quit wasting space in the Internet.
(And my promise to you: If and when I become a father, I pledge that no more than one post a month will be primarily about my kid. In that post, I will mock my child. But seriously, are you going to be reading in two years, or longer?)

Fantasy update: Heidi Klum hasn't left Seal yet (there's a sentence that really shouldn't ever be written), and in other fantasy news, the Fighting Squirrels won one league 87-77 while we currently trail in the other 72-62, all leading to
What I'm looking for tonight (not involving Yes Dear): I need Peyton Manning to throw touchdown passes to Brandon Stokley and Dallas Clark while Marc Bulger needs to throw a few interceptions. I'm not feeling good about the Squirrels' chances.

Great Blog alert: If you're not reading The Ex-Girlfriend Project, do yourself a favor and clear out some time to read it. You won't be disappointed.

Weekend update: Saturday involved Yes Dear waking up at 5:30 a.m. to volunteer at the Habitat for Humanity "Hoofin for Habitat" 5K race. I, on the other hand, slept until 10:30 and then watched football and baseball all afternoon. That night, we went out to dinner at Longhorn and then watched more baseball. Sunday, after church I watched football and baseball while she worked on her thesis.

Desperate Housewives Update: This week's episode picked up the pace from earlier in the season. Hats off to Bree's son Andrew for doing what any son would do if his mom started dating less than a month after his dad died. Boo to Susan for not getting Mike when she saw Zach. Lynnette's son had a new imaginary fried, but she was killed by a car. That was most amusing.

Book signing update: As promised, DC Brother mailed my book back after I posted his email detailing his ordeal: Simmons, a diehard Red Sox fan who understands the suffering a Cubs fan goes though, was kind enough to wish me luck with the Cubs.

Thanks for reading all. Until next time, take care of yourself, and each other.

Next Posting: Friday at noonish

Lonely no more

2005-10-13T16:08:00.000-04:00

After missing on a perfectly good Matchbox 20 song earlier this month, I'm still trying to atone for that mistake. With that in mind, I give you Rob Thomas' Lonely no more.

I think I'm still married.

I'd like to be more confident about this,but the most in-depth conversation Yes Dear and I have had in the past three weeks has gone like this:

Me (after she get's home from school at 7 p.m.): What do you want to do for dinner?

Her: I don't know. I don't have time to cook and I need to get working on my thesis.

Me (knowing that if I have to cook, we'll both starve to death): Well, we could go out to eat, but I kind of wanted to watch the game.

Her (also wanting to watch the game): What time does it come on?

Me: It just started.

Her: Well, lets go somewhere where we can watch the game and eat and then, when we get back, I can work on my thesis and you can watch the game.

That's it. That's the most in-depth conversation in the past three weeks that I've had with the woman who willing took my last name. Otherwise, it's been the perfunctory "how was your day?" as she passed though the living room to go work on the computer.

We both knew that when the rubber met the road with her thesis that she'd be busy writing, proof reading and rewriting. I just don't think either of us were ready for the massive amount of time she's had to dedicate to it.

It's almost like I'm a bachelor. I can watch what I want, when I want. A ballgame I want to watch, no problem. A Law & Order night, sounds good. It's amazing. Growing up with two brothers, I didn't have this kind of freedom over the television. (Seriously, I'm going to need counseling to break this habit when she's done.) Because she's been so busy, the apartment (or, as we call it, "El Casa de Martin") hasn't had a good, through cleaning since early September. Dishes pile up in the sink until I realize we don't enough plates to prepare a sandwich. (If she'd known I was such a slob, I doubt she'd be Yes Dear.)

She feels badly about spending so much time working on her thesis. In fact, she asked me not to tell my parents (her in-laws) that she's been so busy that she hasn't cooked in three weeks. (So do me a favor, don't pass this on to my parents . . . thanks guys.) I told her she's got nothing to feel bad about, but she feels she's not being a "good wife."

She's been told she should be done with everything thesis-related by the end of the month, at which point there will be a massive celebration the likes of which most of you have probably seen before. Then, when she graduates on December 10, there will be another party, again, the likes of which you've all seen before.

And what happens after that . . . well, she's the one with the Master's Degree, so I'll probably quit my job and let her support me for a while. (By the way, if that happens, there's a nearly 100 percent chance I'll be looking for a place to stay, as well as a new wife, so if any of you can offer either of those in the event they're needed, I would appreciate it.)

Weekend plans: Yes Dear has to wake up before God to work at the Hoofin for Habitat race Saturday morning and then she's going to the Library to work on her thesis, and since I won't get home until late Friday night and will be asleep when she leaves Saturday morning, there's a chance I won't see my wife from Wednesday night (when we went to bed, she left Thursday for a conference) until Saturday evening. In other words, based on what you've read above, that's pretty much par for the course right now. I'll pass the time watching baseball, football and Saturday Night Live. Sunday, more baseball, football and Desperate Housewives.

Georgia Southern update: For those interested, Georgia Southern will be on Fox Sports South Saturday afternoon at 3:30 p.m. In other words, please don't call me Saturday afternoon at 3:30.

Next Post: Monday evening (Eastern time)