Speechification…

This may come as a surprise to some of you, but I used to play a little basketball. Those of you that actually remember watching me play would probably say…, oh wait, nobody keeps those kind memories for 30-plus years…. .

This past season, I decided to start following my old high school team. I went to several games and struck up a relationship with the coach. I got to meet some of the players, and I really enjoyed watching the boys play.

They made it to the first round of the state playoffs - the team had a very good season.

Anyway, a few weeks ago, the coach asked me to be the guest speaker at the end of season Basketball Banquet.

I gladly accepted the invitation even though:

a) I’ve never actually been a speaker before.
b) I’ve never actually written a speech before.
c) English is not my best subject.
d) All of the above.

I thought the best thing to do would be to begin my talk with a true story from my playing days…

In the 73-74 season, I played on the sophomore team, got to suit JV, and even got some JV minutes. I also set what was then a season scoring record for the sophomore team. The reason I set the record was because our sophomore team played more games than the previous record holders’ team did…

Anyway, I thought I was hot stuff; the JV Coach, Coach R, and the varsity Coach, Coach B didn’t see it that way. During my sophomore year we were playing a home game against a team from the northern part of the state and my buddy Mark and I got to suit JV for that game.

A couple of things to put this into context, back then there was no three point line, so if you got too far behind it was difficult to catch up. Secondly, Coach B always sat on the bench during the JV games, and with two minutes left in the game he would get up and go to the locker room to talk to the varsity before their game.

So Mark and I were sitting at in our customary spots at the end of the bench and with about 3 minutes to play, we’re up by about 30 points over our opponent. Coach R looks down the bench and yells “all right, the two of you get up here!”

Now Mark and I have these silly grins on our face, because we know we’re going to get some playing time. We’re very excited. We sit down next to Coach R and are intently watching the game. With two minutes to go, we’re up by 35 and Coach B gets up to leave the bench. As he does so, he points to Mark and me and says to Coach R “Joe, put these two in when you feel safe…”

To add insult to injury, Coach R waited another 30 seconds before he put Mark and me into the game…

Anyway…

The banquet was last night and Mrs. R came along to share the moment with me.

The banquet was great, and I gave my speech without incident. Well that’s not exactly true, most of the audience dozed off about two minutes in, but that was actually good.

I’m a much better speaker when no one is listening…

The Meadows

The day before leaving for Las Vegas to attend the “World of Concrete” Trade Show and Testosterone Festival, my lovely assistant and I found ourselves in the bookstore at the local suburban mall. As we walked in, we, along with everyone else in the store, were treated to a young woman’s cell phone conversation that went something like this:

“So I’m like you were cheating on her when we were sleeping together, and I was just like, whatever M****f****r!”

What a lovely young lady, so refined, so cultured. I’m sure she was Delbert and Nadine’s daughter…

On Super Bowl Sunday my assistant and I traveled to Sin City. On the plane I had the pleasure of sitting next to a gentleman who was in the aisle seat and seemed put out that the airline “put the big guy in the middle seat.” Hmm, imagine how that big guy felt….

We arrived in Las Vegas about 90 minutes before kickoff. Las Vegas, which loosely translated means “The Vegas,” was nuts. My assistant and I checked into our hotel and then searched for a place to watch the game. We finally ended-up in my XXIVth floor room to watch Super Bowl XLIII.

It was a great game, I was rooting for the Cardinals and they almost got ‘er done. Halftime was incredible! Let’s just say The Boss is still The Boss.

After the game, we decided to do the buffet thing and ended up at the Garden Buffet at the Flamingo. Like most things here, it was overpriced, but the food wasn’t real good. By the time we finished dinner and headed back to our hotel, the city had gone completely bonkers; it seemed there were drunken Steelers fans everywhere. I gave them the benefit of the doubt, as I have been to Pittsburgh a couple of times...

Monday was a day full of seminars; I was thinking that by the end of the week I would know more about cracks than most proctologists…

Much to my surprise, my lovely assistant had obtained tickets to see “Jubilee” at Bally’s on Monday night. Oh my, what a show! When the curtain came there were 40 pairs of the most beautiful bre… oops, I mean legs, you ever saw. Yeah that’s it, legs.

Jubilee!

Ahem, anyway, the show was great – dozens of beautiful women, incredible costumes, singing, dancing. My assistant said she liked the “hunky young men with the nice glutes.” We must’ve been at different shows, because I don’t remember any male performers…

After the show we followed an older couple with decidedly east-coast accents out of the theater and overheard this conversation:

“Artie, that was bee-yoot-eee-full. Just bee-yoot-eee-full.”

“Are you freakin’ kiddin’ me Irene? Theh wadn’t anythin’ bigger’n a B-cup out theh!”

That’s the thing about Las Vegas, all cultures, as well as all languages, are welcome.

Speaking of languages, apparently English is not real common in the desert.

One of the instructors at a seminar I attended used the words “acourse” for “of course” and “tords” for “toward.”

One of the 5 gazillion hucksters along the strip asked me “Are you going to be in town today?” as I walked past. Apparently that whole time-space continuum can be very confusing for some people…

I overheard someone talking about some humorous thing that had created “comical” relief.

Someone else said they “needed an electricianist.”

Another said that was about “alls they could do.”

Pronunciation? Grammar? Who needs it? This is Vegas, baby!

Tuesday’s highlight was getting a really good deal on some Super Bowl merchandise the Officially Licensed NFL vendor didn’t want to “take back with her.” Although I never found out where “back” was, I was able to negotiate a price of $25 for a spiffy $64 fleece pullover. While some would attribute that to good negotiating skills, I’d like to believe it was due to my charm and good looks…

Late Tuesday afternoon, after the seminars had ended, I entered some promotional thing at O’Shea’s on the strip, and won $50. Well not exactly, I won a voucher for $50 that I could use on one of their promotional slot machines. The catch was that you had to build up 4000 credits to win one-hundred actual dollars. I did make it to 102 credits for awhile. Anyway I was able to play the slots for about half an hour for free.

On Wednesday, my travelling assistant joined me for dinner at Jimmy Buffett’s Margaritaville, which is located in the Flamingo hotel. We had about a 30-minute wait for a table, so we stood outside of the restaurant and did some people watching on the strip. We were also entertained by a group of 50-something cougars who were displaying their, ahem, assets to any male that was breathing…

There was a live band performing at Margaritaville, so we got to enjoy some great music while eating dinner. My assistant had coconut shrimp and I had the blackened mahi-mahi with mango salsa. Yummmm.

The Las Vegas Margaritaville, along with the one JB sings about, is a crazy place. There was the music, two guys walking around on stilts, and a scantily clad young woman who had to go for a swim in a giant blender whenever JB’s Margaritaville was played. That was a very popular song for some reason…

Margaritaville

I really enjoyed the band; they played several of the songs we’ve been working on at guitar lessons. The only difference between them and me was, and this crucial, they were able to play the correct notes and chords at the correct time and tempo…

Thursday night we went and saw Rita Rudner at Harrah’s. We sat at a table with an older couple from Golden who spend half of the year in the desert and the other half in Colorado. They were a very young 70-ish and had been doing the two homes thing for about 20 years. They were enjoying the good life.

Rita Rudner’s shtick is the daffy, slightly confused wife/mother/homemaker. She’s pretty funny and if you ever have a chance you should take in her show.

On Friday, the gambling bug finally hit me. And, as a lot of you know, I’m a big-time player Las Vegas kind of a guy. So I put $20 in a slot machine at the Bellagio and won enough to pay for lunch. I then went over to the Flamingo and took a lesson on how to play craps. It seemed so simple when they explained it, but afterwards, when I walked up to a table, it all seemed very confusing and intimidating, even for a big-time player Las Vegas kind of a guy like me. I watched for a while and tried to understand the rhythm of the game. I figured out two things, you can lose a lot of money in a short amount of time playing craps, and the $10 minimum bet seemed exorbitantly high.

We left the Flamingo and went to the Imperial Palace and walked through their car collection. They had about 200 or so exotic vehicles in their collection, and since we had passes for free admission (big-time player Las Vegas kinds of a guys like me get “comped” a lot…) the price was right. There were some pretty amazing cars there and it’s worth an hour of your time to check it out.

IP Auto Collection

My assistant and I then went to Harrah’s and tried their buffet, and it was very good. Lots to choose from, and because we had coupons, it was affordable…

Harrah's Buffet

Afterwards, we went back to the Bellagio and I found the same machine and played for a little longer. I finished down $10 for the trip.

I dutifully attended all of my scheduled seminars, learned some things, saw a couple of great shows, had some good food, and only lost $10.

Not bad for a week in the Cleavage Capital of the western world…

Jonesin’ For A Lefty

Recently, Son Rogue sent me an e-mail with a link to a story extolling the virtues of left-handedness. It seems that we are amongst the 10 percent of the world's population that actually uses the correct (not right) hand…

It turns out that being left-handed can also increase your chances of developing mental illness. Something about “asymmetry of the brain.” This asymmetry will likely come as no surprise to those of you that know me…

Check out this article:

Left-Handed Genes and Mental Illness

My personal opinion is that we lefties possess a nimble, creative brain that was developed as we learned to negotiate a right-handed world. Not that I'm bitter or anything, (well ok, maybe just a little...).

The rolls of accomplished artists, musicians, athletes, politicians, scientists; and yes even structural engineers and management consultants; are filled with the names of lefties. People such as Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, Beethoven, Bob Dylan, Paul McCartney, Babe Ruth, Bill Russell, Bill Bradley, Harry Truman, Gerald Ford, Bill Clinton, Norman Schwarzkopf, Benjamin Franklin, Isaac Newton, Albert Einstein.

Here is a link to some more names…

Famous Lefties

It seems that the guy we just elected president is also left-handed…

He is also a member of what is known as the “Jones Generation.” Although originally considered “late boomers,” the Jones Generation is the term used to describe those of us born between 1954 and 1965. It’s difficult for us to identify with some of the seminal events of the baby boom generation; the Vietnam War, the Beatles, the Summer of Love, etc. since most of us were too young to have participated…

We are also known as the generation between the Baby Boomers and Generation X .

Here’s what Wikipedia has to say:

Generation Jones

The term “Jonesin’” (meaning yearning) was popular slang in the 70’s, as in “I’m Jonesin’ for a pizza” or “I’ve got the pizza Jones.” As you can see, with the exception of disco music, the 70’s were pretty cool.

Some people believe that the Jones Generation currently has the largest adult population in the United States, in which 1 in 4 adults are “Jonesers.” With one of our own sitting in the White House, and 25% of grown-ups being Jonesers, it kinda looks like we’re in charge.

Whodda thunk it?

Next week I’m heading off to Las Vegas to attend the “World of Concrete” which is a concrete industry trade show that also includes dozens of technical seminars. I’ve chosen to attend a series of seminars on repair of concrete structures. There’s an old joke in structural engineering (at least on the forensic side) that “you get paid to look at other people’s cracks.” Well I’m going to Sin City to learn how to diagnose, and then repair, other people’s cracks.

Las Vegas seems like the perfect venue for that sort of thing…

Predictions for a New Year…

In keeping with the spirit of the season, here are the first (and possibly last) annual Suburban Rogue predictions for the New Year:

1. Dodge Trucks and Burger King will continue to outdo themselves with their inane television advertising campaigns, forcing the FCC to permanently ban these two companies from the airwaves.

2. Even though they will have a new coach, The Denver Broncos will be renamed the "Enver Broncos" as they will continue to have no D.

3. My boss will do something to annoy me. In a mature act of retaliation, I will do something to annoy him even more. I will then be called into the “woodshed” for a record-breaking 23rd time.

4. My beloved Colorado Buffaloes will win 8 games this year, as long as the guaranteed victory in the spring game is included in the total.

5. The vast readership of Suburban Rogue will continue to expand, reaching the big four-three by the end of the year. Sadly, the advertising revenue, currently at $2.34, will not.

6. Vocalist/bassist Peter Cetera and drummer Danny Seraphine will rejoin Chicago and the band will launch a long-awaited reunion tour. The overwhelming response to the tour will force Mick, Keith, and the boys to consider retirement.

7. I will finally master switching from a G-chord to C-chord and back again. My guitar instructor will be hailed as the greatest music teacher ever.

8. Americans will continue to struggle with simple mathematical concepts, similar to the person I overheard at the movie theater talking about the 360-degree plot twist in the film he had just seen. In a related incident, another person said they had “paid $47 for 5 people, so it came to 9 bucks a person.”

9. I will finally figure out what a dangling participle is, and choose not to have mine removed.

Happy New Year!

Multimedia III

This is the maiden blog from my new computer that Santa, (aka Mrs. R) left under the tree. Thanks Mrs R. - I love it!

Anyway, from the “Buyer Beware” category comes this cautionary tale:

The Doghouse

After watching that video, I decided to return the combination chafing-dish/toaster-oven/car-vac for something more appropriate…

Here are some entertaining Christmas songs form a guy named Larry:

Larry the Cable Guy

Git ‘er done big fella!

This next one is from a band out of Georgia and it’s guaranteed to get your toes-a-tappin’ and put a big smile on your face (wait for the !#@$$&*!! commercial to play):

Zac Brown - Chicken Fried

Merry Christmas!

The Family That Blogs Together…

On the Wednesday before Thanksgiving Mrs. R was busily vacuuming when the vacuum cleaner began to make a horrible noise. Since I was (cough, cough) home from work that day, I undertook a CSI-level investigation and quickly determined that the drive belt had broken. As anyone with a vacuum cleaner knows this is a common occurrence and can be easily diagnosed by a 4th-grader. Nonetheless, I heroically patted myself on the back for making such an insightful discovery.

Unfortunately we didn’t have a replacement belt in stock. And since we were expecting a few people over for the holiday, this was becoming a minor emergency. I called the store where we purchased the vacuum cleaner, explained that the machine was 3 or 4 years old, and asked if they carried the replacement belt for our model. I was switched around the store before I spoke with a polite young woman, Sally, who worked in the vacuum department. Boy, that job must suck. (Sorry, I couldn’t help myself there…)

I explained my situation to her and she said that they no longer carried those belts.

“Hmmm” I thoughtfully replied.

“Have you tried the manufacturer?” she asked.

“No” I said. “We were hoping to get this taken care of this afternoon.”

“I see” she replied. “If you’ll bring your vacuum in, along with all of the attachments, we’ll replace it at no cost.”

“But we no longer have the receipt” I said.

“It’s okay, we’ll do that, just for you” Sally replied.

So we did, and they did. Pretty amazing huh?

There was one catch though. It turns out that I have to take Sally’s cousin to dinner in a couple of weeks. Sally tells me she’s a sweet girl with a great personality…

Anyway...

I’ve noticed recently that simple math is a difficult concept for some folks. The other day, while at work, I was reading a report prepared by an engineering firm that described a new, innovative product. The report stated that this product was “exclusively one-of-a-kind.” Yikes…

While watching a college football game this weekend, the announcers were breathlessly singing the praises of the offensive coordinator for one of the teams, pointing out that since he had come to the school their offense had been scoring considerably more points than in the past. Right on cue a graphic popped up showing that since this person had become the offensive coordinator, the team had had scored 30 or more points 19 times. The graphic also said that their record in those games was 16-2. Hmmm…

It’s time to present some more Designating Underachievement in Marketing By Advertisers Selling Stuff awards.

This month’s DUMBASS award goes to Verizon Wireless for their inane ad which features two women who both want the last phone at the Verizon store. The commercial begins with one asking the other, “One phone left in the Verizon store, who gets it?” When the other gal replies “I do” she is either shot in the neck with a tranquillizer dart or handcuffed to the chair.

Nice work Verizon. Who is your ad agency, Mrs. Jones 8th grade class?

The coveted DUMBASS Lifetime Award goes to Dodge Trucks. You may remember that we’ve been critical of Dodge Trucks in the past when they used Rockem-Sockem robots to demonstrate the toughness of their trucks.

Suburban Rogue February 17, 2007

The new Dodge Trucks ad features the trucks being driven through walls of fire, between swinging rusting truck bodies, that sort of thing. I know commuting is rough these days, but sheesh…

Imagine a well-written transition paragraph right here….

Daughter Rogue is a less than tidy housekeeper. Recently she decided to clean-up her apartment and in the process found the cables for her computer printer. She was very excited because these cables had been lost for about 15 months. DR hooked up her printer, sent a file to print, and was very disappointed when a blank paper came out. She repeated the process and achieved the same result. DR then opened the printer cover and discovered that there were no ink cartridges in the printer…

It is this same young lady that recently took a big step, traveling to Dallas for the 45th anniversary of the assassination of JFK. DR is a history major and is intrigued by the story of the Kennedy family. She did all of this on her own, and I think it’s pretty cool. You can read her blog at:

Daughter Rogue's Blog

Keep 'em in Stitches

You may have noticed the frequency of these blogs decreasing recently. All I have to say about that is, you’re welcome…

So, some weeks are worse than others, but this past week will definitely make my all-time top five. Among a number of annoyances, I found out I get to be on cholesterol-lowering medicine for the foreseeable future; had a pre-screening for and scheduled a “you’re gonna put the camera where?” medical procedure; and then watched as some f**kwad backed into Big Mo in a parking lot, left a big dent, and then drove off.

I did finally make it to the weekend, and had some seemingly harmless activities planned. On Saturday I went to my parent’s house to help them rake up some leaves, clean gutters, that sort of thing. Raking leaves at their house is not just a simple two-hour chore, their backyard is about ¼ acre and they have several large trees. The usual take is about 20-25 garden bags full of leaves.

Things were progressing nicely, and we were in the final stages of putting stuff away. My Dad has a tool shed with a very low roof. But he’s only had it for about 35 years, so I’ve gotten used to it. Or so I thought.

Anyway I was in the shed trying to move the snow-blower and as I stood up to pull it back I banged my head on one of the roof rafters. That is a fairly common occurrence in that shed. I reflexively snapped my head forward and smacked my chin on the top bar of a pipe-metal two-wheeled dolly. In the milliseconds after my chin came into contact with the two-wheeler I managed to bite deeply into my lower lip. I also managed to spout a few words that I didn’t know I knew...

After about 20 minutes of self-inflicted first aid I had managed to slow the bleeding down and decided it was now time for the professionals to take over. Mrs. R met me at the Walk-in clinic. If you are ever at one of these clinics and need to move things along, just start bleeding. Apparently bleeding gets you moved to the front of the line…

After I got back to examining room, I nominated myself for the “Idiot of the Day Award” but the doctor said I didn’t stand a chance. Earlier that day she had helped a father-son duo in which dad had accidentally shot a nail through junior’s finger using a nail gun. To be honest, I just can’t compete with that.

Anyway…

Dr. Susan and Nurse Kelly took very good care of me. There was a brief moment of panic for Nurse Kelly when Dr. Susan threatened to suture Kelly’s fingers to my lips. Other than the Novocain injection into my very sore lip, which was somewhat uncomfortable in that if there weren’t 12 people holding me down I would’ve hurt somebody way that things can be uncomfortable, the stitches went in without any problem.

I have three stitches in my lower lip, it’s a little swollen but not bad, and the skin below my lip is turning black and blue. I get to eat a soft food diet for a week or so, and since Dr. Susan is worried about infections, I get to take a fairly strong antibiotic which is in the process of eliminating all of the bacteria that live in my body, including those in my digestive tract…

Dr. Susan told me that I will likely have a scar on my lip when everything heals, and at first I was devastated by this news, since it likely means my chances of becoming a male super-model have evaporated. On the other hand, the scar will definitely enhance my roguish appearance.

So, you know, at least I got that goin’ for me…