Ralphie

As was mentioned in the April 20th edition of

Suburban Rogue

the most exciting moment of the 2008 CU spring game was Ralphie’s run after halftime. After an exhaustive search, a not-so-exclusive video of that moment has been located…

Enjoy!

Ralphie's Run

Spring is Here!

Some weekends are busier than others…

On Friday I talked to a group of very energetic 5th graders about structural engineering, amazingly, none of them nodded off. Then they built structures using gumdrops and spaghetti. The object was to build the most efficient tower, which is the ratio of height to cost. Gumdrops cost $1.00, and spaghetti $0.50, because as most structural engineers (and even some architects) know, connections are always more important than beams and columns. The winning team scored a 0.84 which is very, very good.

Saturday afternoon I was part of a record setting crowd of almost 18,000 Buff fans who turned out for the annual spring football game, pitting the Black Team from the University of Colorado vs. the Gold Team from the University of Colorado. This is a very clever trick that all college football coaches use because it ensures that no matter what, your team always wins the spring game…

CU Spring Game

The Buffs unveiled their new no-huddle offense, which is all the rage these days in college football. They moved the ball okay, but they still struggled with the running game. The defense gave up some passing yards and I think that might be a real problem during the upcoming season. Special teams had two blocked punts and one blocked field goal attempt, that’s a good news – bad news sort of thing. You like to see your team make those kinds of plays, but you hate to see your team give up those kinds of plays.

For me the highlight of the day was during halftime, when former players from the 1940’s through the 2000’s were introduced and brought on to the field. Colorado is one of the top 25 “winningest” programs in college football history,

I-A Winning Percentage 1869-2007

and to see these legends back on Folsom Field was a thrill. When these men all gathered together at midfield and sang the school fight song, well, it raised goose bumps on the outside of me, and stirred something very deep inside of me. They left the field to a standing ovation. Phew, what a moment!

The most exciting play of the day was made by newcomer Ralphie V, the Buffs latest mascot. Ralphie V is an 18 month old American Bison who is very quick. When she led the Buffs onto the field after halftime, she took off in a hurry, causing one of her handlers to fall. She ran right over the top of him, I couldn’t tell from my vantage point if she stepped on the handler or not, but after she passed he rose to his knees and threw his fists into the air. Sometimes the toughest guys on the field aren’t necessarily the ones wearing helmets and shoulder pads.

By the time Ralphie had made it to the far sideline, she had broken free from all but one of her handlers, and this poor guy was hanging on for dear life. The handlers finally got her cornered on about the 40 yard line on the west side of the stadium, and she made the rest of her trip around the field without incident. (Note to Reader: I scoured the Internet looking for a video of this exciting run, but was unsuccessful...)

Ralphie V may slow down a bit by the start of next season, since she is expected to gain 500 or so more pounds by then. If I was CSU, or Eastern Washington or West Virginia or Texas or Kansas State or Iowa State or Oklahoma State, I would be very concerned...

Sunday I took a snorkeling lesson. It was the class of Larry’s – a retired couple and their grandson, and me. Grandpa’s name is Lawrence, and his grandson’s name is Larry. Larry, his parents and grandparents are heading to Cozumel in June to celebrate Larry’s graduation from high school. Lawrence is a retired fire-fighter and is in excellent condition, he is also a heckuva nice guy.

The four of us, along with our instructor Dennis, watched a short video and then headed to the pool at

Underwater Phantaseas

our local suburban dive shop.

The first thing we learned was how to adjust and put on our gear. As you can see from the photo at the top of this blog, I had already been working on that. It was important to me not to look like some kind of goofball…

Grandson Larry was clearly the star of the class, quickly mastering the pike dive and efficiently cleaning the bottom of the pool of all of the rubber fish. I did manage to snag one fake manta ray off the bottom, but it took a couple of attempts.

I earned the snorkeling equivalent of a gold star for my version of the “giant stride” step off move, which is what you’re supposed to use when leaving a diving platform from a boat.

Once I got used to breathing through the snorkel I found I could easily move through the water, and my only concern was crashing into the pool wall, which fortunately never happened.

Not bad for a slightly uncoordinated dork with two left feet…

Gone Country

Mrs. R and I are about 7 miles above the heartland as I write this, returning home after 5 days in Nashville. I went to Nashville to attend the North American Steel Construction Conference, and tricked Mrs. R into coming along, even though she wasn’t real keen on being around several hundred engineers for 5 days. Come to think of it, neither was I…

A little history…

Fort Nashborough was founded on Christmas day in 1779, and named after Revolutionary War general Francis Nash. Due to its location near the Cumberland River, Nashville was a vital transportation and trade hub. Nashville’s strategic location made it a key city, and during the Civil War, the city fell to the Union in 1862.

Today Nashville is home to more than 800 churches as well as the headquarters of the Southern Baptist Convention. Oh yeah, they play a little music there too. There are well over 100 recording studios in Nashville, and about 300 or so in the greater Nashville area.

We arrived in the Music City on a cool but sunny Tuesday afternoon. We checked into our hotel, the Renaissance, and then headed out to orient ourselves to the city. An interesting tidbit about the hotel, there is a chocolate sculpture of a guitar in the lobby, near the elevators. It was apparently inspired by an Aerosmith song, “Love in the Elevator,” which is about exactly what the title suggests…

Since I am much older than Mrs. R, and tire easily when traveling, we decided to head back to our room early and call it a night. Our peaceful slumber was interrupted by our redneck neighbors; it had to be Delbert and Nadine, at about 4:00am when they arrived in their room after a long night of Honky-Tonkin’. We were kept awake for awhile, as they were apparently inspired by the chocolate guitar, and engaged in some very noisy love-making. Delbert and Nadine would awaken us nightly with their goings-on, and well, it was pretty irritating, in a voyeuristic (look that one up, Delbert!) sort of a way. Very classy, those two. I’m sure they’re the most fabulous couple in their trailer park…

My first seminar wasn’t until Wednesday afternoon, so we spent that morning at the

Country Music Hall of Fame

What a cool place. Everything you could possibly want to know about country music is there, from the earliest days to the present. In addition, they have an extensive collection of recordings, photographs, and motion pictures. Next time you’re in Nashville, spend a few hours there, you won’t be disappointed.

That afternoon I attended some seminars while Mrs. R scoped out the local food and music scene. She discovered a place called Rippy’s, which is on Broadway, right across from all of the famous (infamous?) Honky-Tonks. Rippy’s is a barbecue place with the added benefit of nightly live music. We had an incredible dinner, (chicken for Mrs. R, pulled pork for me) and listened to

Tommy Townsend

perform for a couple of hours

Tommy and his guitarist friend, whose name escapes me (although it wasn’t his normal sidekick, Daryl, who was, as Tommy described, “laid out drunk.”), played mostly classic country; a lot of Merle and Waylon and Johnny, and George; my favorite was a cover of Garth Brooks’ “I’m Much Too Young to Feel this Damn Old,” and George Straits’ “Amarillo by Morning.” What struck both of us was how down to earth Tommy was, it was as if your neighbor had invited you over for a beer and pulled out his guitar. What a terrific evening!

Thursday followed with a day full of seminars, including one by a gentleman named Socrates.

Socrates Ioannides

is a structural engineer in Nashville who has designed several buildings of note all over the world, including the Renaissance Hotel. He is a character - with his headful of bushy white hair, a drooping moustache, and sharp a sense of humor, he reminded me of Mark Twain. Socrates is also one of the top structural engineers on the planet, and his seminar was the best one I attended.

Thursday night was the “Conference Dinner” which consisted of exclusive use of the 7 adjacent Honky-Tonks along Honky-Tonk row. Folks by the name of Cash and Nelson and Cline and Kristofferson are some of the people to have frequented these places over the years.

We went through the buffet line, and loaded up on some delicious food from

Jacks Bar-b-que

and headed into

The Stage

where Chad Street was performing. He and his band were having a great time, and soon so was everyone else. Chad and his band easily moved from country songs to countrified versions of Eagles and Bob Seger songs, to Lynyrd Skynyrd. Hearing “Sweet Home Alabama” played live, south of the Mason-Dixon Line, was a memorable experience!

So was hearing Wild Cherry’s “Play That Funky Music White Boy” performed by a country band in a Nashville Honky-Tonk. As Chad and his band moved from one type of music to another, and it made you realize that whether the music is country or the blues or rock-and-roll, it all has the same DNA…

The people watching was also very entertaining that evening. At the start of the evening, as we entered the tent which was set up behind the Honky-Tonks, and where the buffet lines were located, we were greeted by a Wynona Judd look-alike. I naively figured it was just one of those kitschy Nashville things, kinda like Elvis impersonators in Vegas. Mrs. R, however, had a different take. Later on, at The Stage, she noticed Wynona working the room, and not just as an ambassador for the city, but rather as a, ahem, “Professional Woman.” Nuthin’ like some good ol’ southern hospitality, I reckon.

Some of the engineers and steel fabricators attending the conference had brought their significant others to the conference, and some of the couples at The Stage decided to dance. It’s really quite humorous to watch engineers dance, and Mrs. R repeatedly thanked me for “not being the worst dancer in the world.” You’re welcome honey. Bet I’m in the bottom 100, though…

Anyway, a 40-ish couple took the floor and they were clearly the best dancers in the building. Their skill so inspired a drunken conference attendee that he cut in, twirled his new partner a couple of times, tripped and fell, bringing her down on the back of her head. A few minutes later the police and paramedics came and our dancer left with a big ice pack on the back of her head. Chad Street and his band never stopped playing while all of this was going on. Man, this Honky-Tonkin’ stuff is pretty exciting.

For me, Friday was a long day of seminars on Seismic Engineering. While it was all interesting stuff, I won’t bore you with the details, well, except for F=ma. Mrs. R, however, seemed to have had a much more exciting day.

She had to barricade herself in our room when two hotel employees got into a fight, complete with punches thrown, right outside of our room. Mrs. R called the hotel emergency line, and the “Brawl in the Hall” ended shortly thereafter. The Renaissance is a beautiful hotel, but they may need to review their personnel and hiring practices.

We awoke to a chilly Saturday morning and had some time to kill before heading to the airport. We thought about taking a tour of the legendary

Ryman Auditorium

and possibly recording a song in their recording studio. But Mrs. R was rightfully concerned that our duet would likely damage the recording equipment beyond repair, and that this would suddenly become a very expensive trip.

Instead, we strolled along Broadway, past the Honky-Tonks and street musicians. On a whim, we decided to go into Boot Country, which was advertising “Buy 1 Pair, Get 2 Pair Free.” We were helped by a gentleman who claimed to be a guitarist/singer and was clearly hung-over (what are the chances, a hung-over musician selling boots to make ends meet in Nashville?). He shared a parable with us about the last time he was in Denver, and how he was humbled by his encounter with a person down who was down their luck. He was also very charming and was sporting some mighty fine custom-made red and white cowboy boots. “Kinda like what ol’ Hank used to wear” is what he told us.

We were clearly charmed by our itinerant musician/salesman, and before we knew it, Mrs. R and left Boot Country with three brand new pairs of cowboy boots, including some shiny yellow ones that Mrs. R is dyin’ to show the girls at work.

Wow, what a week!

I’ve been to several cities in the south and, without exception, left them feeling less than inspired. Nashville is different though. This place has soul. Whether it’s the music, the barbecue, or the friendly people, I’m not really sure. But I am sure that the combination is hard to beat.

So long for now, Nashville…

Indulgence

For those of you that don’t have to spend time with engineers, consider yourself very, very fortunate. For those of you that do spend time with engineers, you have my deepest and most sincere apologies…

As many of you know, I'm a Structural Engineer. Structural Engineering is a specialty within Civil Engineering and I describe it as "figuring out how to keep buildings from falling down, and figuring out what happened when they do fall down." Others have more eloquently described Structural Engineering thusly:

“Structural Engineering is the art of modeling materials we do not wholly understand, into shapes we cannot precisely analyze so as to withstand forces we cannot properly assess, in such a way that the public has no reason to suspect the extent of our ignorance."

That definition is a little tongue-in-cheek, but there is also some truth in it.

My personal definition of Structural Engineering centers on two basic fundamentals:

Newton’s First Law:

A body at rest remains at rest, unless acted upon by an external force (kinda sounds like me during football season).

Newton’s Third Law:

For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction (push forward against your desk and your chair rolls backwards)

These simple definitions have worked well for me in 27 years of structural engineering practice. I have been fortunate enough to perform design work on structures all over the United States (some of which you may have visited at one time or another), to conduct condition assessments of buildings after some horrible disasters (Hurricane Andrew and the Oklahoma City bombing), and to preserve some nationally significant historic buildings. I also have been fortunate enough to work with several very talented and outstanding people, some of whom are readers of this blog.

So far, during the course of my career, I have cumulatively spent over one year away from home on business, assessing buildings or visiting construction sites. My family has always been patient and understanding, and I am so grateful for that. Thank-you S and C and K.

Today I found out that, after a semi-rigorous evaluation process, I have become a Board Certified Structural Engineer. I am only the 12th Structural Engineer in my home state to attain this certification, and one of about 1000 Structural Engineers nation-wide.

I’m a lucky man, indeed!

Mutlimedia Humor

Welcome to the first multi-media edition of Suburban Rogue …

One of my favorite characters on television is MADtv’s Coach Hines, played by Keegan-Michael Key. Here is one of the better sketches, notice the blue “coaching shorts” ca. 1972…

Coach Hines

It’s that spring break time of year and this video reminds us to always pay attention to the lifeguard….

Lifeguard

I was recently accused of being a nerd. I always thought I fell more in the dork category, but maybe not. Anyway, I found this video that might help explain a few things…

The Knack

Be kind with your comments, or I will be forced to post my copyrighted engineers’ lecture. Not only is it informative, it is also a guaranteed cure for insomnia…

Permission

To celebrate the upcoming 50th anniversary of my birth, Mrs. R and I have decided to spend a long weekend on the Yucatan Peninsula, about 30 minutes south of Cancun.

I mean, let’s face it; they don’t call me "Mr. Spontaneity” for nothing.

Oh wait, actually they don’t call me that for anything. "Mr. Somebody Check His Pulse Is He Still Breathing?” is more like it.

After talking with a co-worker one day I came home singing the praises of Cancun, a place that I had never been to before. A couple of days later we made the arrangements and were set to go. Well almost anyway.

There was the small matter of getting permission to leave from, and then return to, the good ol’ US of A. We needed to get passports, which is a much easier sentence to type than to actually accomplish.

Mrs. R is a naturalized citizen, having been born in Stuttgart. We were unable to find her birth certificate, but we did locate her citizenship papers and her expired passport from when she was a teenager.

Me? I’m 'merican. Born right here in Colorado. Even got the birth certificate, complete with a footprint, as proof. (On a side note, it is difficult to imagine that my feet were ever that small.) What could possibly go wrong?

We had our passport photo’s taken, (apparently senior pictures from high school are not acceptable), filled out the paperwork and headed to the post office. We were both a little apprehensive because we were anticipating having difficulties with Mrs. R’s application. Boy, were we wrong.

We patiently waited our turn in line, and then went into the little room at the post office. We were friendly, polite, ingratiating, and reverential to the clerk. As a bureaucrat myself, I know how effective this can be…

It worked! Mrs. R’s application sailed though without any trouble. Phew, that was a close one…

Then the clerk looked at my paperwork, sniffed, and gave me that “stern, over the top of her reading glasses look,” and said “Is that your birth certificate?”

“Yes” I meekly replied.

“Well it’s not going to work.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

You need an official one from the state,” she said. “Too many forgeries these days.”

Although I was confused as to why someone would want, or need, to forge my footprint, I gamely fought back.

“It’s from the hospital were I was born, just up the road a bit. It’s got my foot print and everything.”

In attempt to provide proof that my birth certificate was not a forgery, I took off my shoe and sock, and placed my foot on the counter. Snapped a hamstring when I did it, too.

Well, for some reason the clerk took offense to this, and I was escorted from the building, sans one shoe and one sock, and asked not to return until I had “cooled off for 24 hours, or the restraining order expires, whichever comes first.”

So Mrs. R and I headed to a soulless, antiseptic “Office of Vital Records” building, where, for just $17, I got an “official” copy of the document I already had in my hand.

The next day I went back to the passport office, waited in line, got back in front of the same clerk, who declared that my paperwork was now in order. It was when she asked to see my drivers license that I realized I had left my billfold back at my desk at work.

Anyway, to make a long story longer, after three trips to the passport office, my application was duly stamped, notarized, and fed to the system.

Noithin’ to it….

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

Time for some more ranting.

As was originally reported in the August 5, 2007 edition of Suburban Rogue , “I have noticed that a lot of my mishaps seem to involve food.”

OK, I have to say that I’m tired of being graded on my food choices by wait-staff. I have enough trouble in my life just trying to get my socks to match and make sure my shirt is tucked in. I don’t need my menu selections critiqued.

Recently I went to lunch with a friend who ordered some kind of chicken thingy. The waitress applauded the selection and said “That is an excellent choice; it is one of the best things on the menu. You obviously know a great deal about food, are wise beyond your years, and are a likely candidate for sainthood.”

The waitress then looked at me and asked to take my order. Beads of sweat began to form on my brow, and my stomach began to churn. It was that same feeling I remember from the third grade when I got called on to present my book report that I hadn’t done…

I thought about, in order to show my sophistication, ordering Steak Tartar medium-well, but decided not to because of the whole cholesterol thing. So, in a quivering voice, I said “I’d like the turkey sandwich on whole wheat, with a side of coleslaw.”

Well, I got a “Hmmm, interesting choice” and watched the waitress turn and walk away, shaking her head, pointing at our table and saying something to make the other restaurant employees and patrons laugh.

Humiliated, I ate my lunch in silence as my friend was celebrated for making such a wonderful lunch choice. I have to admit the fighter jet flyover and parade were a bit much for just ordering a chicken thingy…

There is an epidemic sweeping my office.

Do I like it? No.

Do I hope it will end soon? Yes.

In case you haven’t figured it out, the epidemic it is known as Interviewyourselfitis.

Most of the big shots at my office are afflicted with this malady, and it is most apparent during large meetings where they have to speak. It’s an effective technique, and can give the illusion of allowing audience participation as in:

“Do I think our budget is adequate? No.”

“Will the budget pressures ease by the end of the quarter? Yes.”

Couple this kind of self-involvement with referring to yourself in the third person and it won’t be long before you have a spot as a talking head on cable TV.

For example, Jim may say:

“Does Jim think our production level was acceptable last month? No.”

“Does Jim believe it will be higher this month? Yes.”

There is no known cure…

And finally, this story from South Florida.

It seems the Florida Marlins are looking for a few good round men to form a cheerleading squad.

Marlins Cheerleaders

It’s good to know that there is now a place for guys built like me in professional sports…