Smart Lite: The Dumbing of a Nation
I wrote something last night about Miller Lite’s new campaign that reads “Tastes different, because it’s brewed different.” It was a light poke at the grammar, but then I got to thinking, how does that happen? No doubt, it’s some ad agency, and then the suits/pant suits at Miller, who sign off on it. I’m sure they’re in a board room somewhere, and someone raised the objection “do we care that it should be ‘differently’?” And, you know it’s someone like me to whom such wording resonates as wrong; it creates a discord in my head that makes me cant my head like a dog does when hearing a whistle of their namesake. It offends my sense of justice. We wouldn’t accept that 2+2 =5 in print or on air; a second grader would call that out as wrong. Why do we accept it with our language? I’ll try to answer the rhetorical later. For now, back to the board room.
I’m sure the rebuke came from one of the senior creatives and went something like this. “Nah… It’s folksy. Besides, we’re marketing to people who drink light beer; how sophisticated can they be?” To his/her point, “tastes different, because it’s brewed differently” doesn’t have the same sort of consonance and congruence. Perhaps it’s more of a philosophical inference as in it tastes different because it’s brewed different, and in implication that it’s brewed to be different. It’s really a deep message if you read it in that context. But that’s now why that ad is permeating our airwaves and almost literally* hurting my ears. This is why: They think that most of us won’t notice, and those who do, won’t really care. They think we are dumb, or at the very least, daft. That’s the more deplorable kind of dumb to me, because it’s not coming from an ignorance, but a place of willful disregard for the truth.
Companies, advertisers, children, pets will all achieve to the level we expect, and clearly, we expect too little from our admen (and women).
After a little probing, I learned that TBWA’s Los Angeles office was named agency of record for Miller Lite in September of 2014; this was my the site of my first internship out of college. Back then, it was Chiat Day, and it was the home of giant minds of advertising like Lee Clow and Jay Chiat. Knowing the origins of the egregiousness only “ads” to my disappointment.
*for you Mark Korte.
How to Deal with Loss; a Lesson from a Kid-
We have been dealing with impending loss for a while now. It’s gotten real of late. The months have dwindled to days, and the inevitable seems upon us, but it’s not. We have a 19 and 3/4 year old cat, Indy, who is literally a shell of his former self. This was a spry 14-pound cat that could reach a feather at the top of a door casing (~7 ft high). This 14 pound cat is nothing but bones and weighs in at a paltry 5 lbs now. We’ve been saying he’s on his last days for 500 days or so, but he keeps trudging on. The cat who could leap higher than my head had problems transitioning from tile to wood. But this is not why I write.
Categorize this as burying the lead, because the story here is not that we are losing a loved one, but how our loved one is handling it. Jack is not yet 10. We’ve been hinting to him that Indy’s days are numbered. Rhonda’s mom came over today, and we kinda’ said that you probably should say your “goodbyes” to the old guy (the cat, not me). I said the same thing to Jack at the end of tonight, and I don’t believe I’ve ever seen as much reverence from anyone, much less a 9-year-old. It was truly sweet to see him hug and pet Indy, tearing up as he looked into his hazy eyes for some confirmation. He got his phone and took some pictures, and it brought me to tears seeing him honor this old soul so much. This cat was lucky to have a boy like Jack. Jack has always been good to the critters who have lived in our house and he’s no less good in death.
Indy is not yet gone yet, but he will be soon. We won’t soon forget him, but I will never forget how my boy handled it. It’s truly endearing to see the sweetness of soul, especially when your had a hand in creating it. My tears of sadness swim with the tears of pride for this wonderful boy.
R.I.P. Indy, and thank you Jack for being an example of compassion to us all.
Perhaps I’m a bit contrary this week, but it’s all in defense of our constitutional rights.
I disagree with the outlash against Rolling Stone’s controversial cover showing the architect of the Boston Marathon bombings. Reportedly, several major retail chains have removed the cover from their stores/news stands which all reeks of a libricide (book burning) of days past. This country was founded on inalienable rights, not the least of which is freedom on the press. The last thing we want to do is infringe on more rights in this seemingly rights-sucking culture of political correctness.
Rolling Stone has more cutting journalism than you will ever find in Time, Newsweek or any other major “news” magazines. Just look up any article by Matt Taibbi (http://www.rollingstone.com/politics/blogs/taibblogi) and tell me you aren’t wiser for having read that. Most of you won’t, and that’s the real problem with our society. We are quick to jump on a bandwagon even if we don’t know where it’s going. The information is out there on the “terrorist” attacks of 9/11, and plenty of more salient info on the “mortgage meltdown,” but we as a nation don’t demand action on those matters. What we do do (yes, I just said doodoo) is we are quick to rail against perceived injustices or wrongs because we see a Facebook post or a newsclip.
Stop the censure. Increase the awareness. It is not the government’s or private enterprise’s job to raise your children. Discussion is important. Shrouding important issues because we think it glamorizes terrorism is a daft way to conduct our lives. This point is even more potent if you believe that most of the “terrorism” in this country is perpetrated on us by us.
Did RS do this to sell magazines? Maybe, but capitalism is another important tenet in our country’s formation. In addition to our liberties, that, too, seems to be eroding by the day. Rolling Stone has a history of publishing important and edgy political pieces, so this does not strike me as shock journalism.
I haven’t read the article, though none of us have. The issue isn’t set to hit the stands until Friday. A t the very least, read the article before you join in the myopic boycott backlash. Though, that, too, is a right you have… At least for now, anyway.
MONSTER JAM is Back!
ADVANCE AUTO PARTS MONSTER JAM is Back!
The 10,000-pound monsters roar into Angel Stadium on Saturday, February 11 @ 7:30pm and into Dodger Stadium on Saturday, February 18 @ 7:30pm. These shows sell out, so make sure you get your tickets soon. Save $5 per ticket (up to 10) with code MOMMY! Expires day prior to event 2/10 & 2/17. Valid in $32 & $22 price levels in Anaheim and $40 & $30 price levels for LA. Buy tickets at the box office, go to www.ticketmaster.com or call 800-745-300 to get the discount.
The neighborhood boys got an exclusive sneak preview, and the pictures are below:
Here’s a peek at last year’s event coverage as well: http://thebushreport.com/2011/01/28/monsters-invade-so-cal/ and http://thebushreport.com/2011/02/10/local-boy-makes-good-monster-truck-interview-subject/
Don’t miss it!
Dear Baseball Writers of America,
Before you capriciously award your MVP the the Brewers’ Ryan Braun, here are a few items you should consider when making that decision.
We are all well aware that the Brewers are making the playoffs this year. Which is to say, they held off a tanking Cardinals team in a division that has hapless teams like the Cincinnati Reds, Chicago Cubs and Houston Astros. The Dodgers will end up .500 or better this year, which has to be considered an great accomplishment considering their lack of activity in free agency and the turmoil going on in the front office. And before you malign the NL West, you should know that the West will end up with three teams with winning seasons. The other two divisions will only have two.
The Dodgers have only one player with more than 20 home runs. That is Matt Kemp. In fact, Kemp has as many as the next three Dodgers. Rod Barajas (who?) has 16, and Loney and Ethier each have 11, or 38 total. I illustrate this to underscore that Kemp has put this MVP campaign together without any real protection.
Here’s some more statistical morsels to chew on:
Matt Kemp leads his team in each of the 9 significant batting categories:
- Batting Average
- Home Runs
- RBIs
- Runs Scored
- Walks
- On-Base Percentage
- Slugging Percentage
- Hits
- OPS (On-Base Percentage & Slugging Percentage)
Ryan Braun leads his team in only 4 of those categories. The Milwaukee Brewers are 6th in Baseball in slugging percentage; the Dodgers are 24th. The Brewers have 5 guys with sluggingpercentages over .450… The Dodgers only have Matt Kemp. Kemp also leads his team in Stolen Bases and Outfileld assists, and is 2nd in the National League in both of those categories.
Kemp leads the NL in two of the three triple crown categories. Ryan Braun doesn’t even lead his team in two of those three. Sure, Kemp will likely lose the Triple Crown, being just points behind Braun and Jose Reyes, but he will also likely win a Gold Glove at his position.
They say a picture is worth a thousand words. Well, if that’s true, then these two pictures should be worth 100+ first place votes. When you pull the team stats, you see Kemp leads his team in all significant categories. You see Prince Fielder’s ugly mug three times and Braun’s but twice.
If you want to look at Sabermetrics, the more “Moneyball” way to look at performance, you will notice Kemp is on top in the metric RC “Runs Created” and close to the top on every other category. The other thing you will notice is there are two Brewers that follow him. That symbiosis cannot be ignored; clearly, one would not be as good without the other. So while Braun and Fielder are an impressive duo, Matt Kemp is the more impressive singular entity, and that’s really what the MVP is all about.
The unfortunate thing for Kemp is that Clayton Kershaw is likely to win the Cy Young award. This award is also given by you silly Baseball Writers of America. Perhaps, when you enter your voting booths, you will will try justify not awarding Kemp MVP because you are going to award Cy Young to another Dodger.
Also, you egotistic wordsmiths will rationalize that the Dodgers are not going to make the playoffs. Even though MVP voting takes place before the postseason, you keyboard-jockeys have historically awarded the MVP to players on teams with post-season births. Lastly, the lot of you columnists, correspondents and — ehh hmm — journalist have proven to have political agendas as evidenced by your Hall-of-Fame inductee voting. Players like Pete Rose and, more recently, Mark Maguire and Barry Bonds, will likely never get your votes because of off-field issues. If Selig had his way, I’m sure he’d rather that you scribllers-of-truth throw as little positive attention to the Dodgers’ as possible, since he’s trying to wrestle the team from Frank McCourt.
So, if you writers want to “maintain” some journalistic integrity, you should award the National League Kenesaw Mountain Landis Memorial Baseball Award (MVP) to the player who is most valuable to his team. Clearly, Matt Kemp is that man.
Sincerely,
Disgruntled in L.A.
p.s. Shouldn’t you change the name of your organization to “Baseball Writers of North America?” After all, we have some contingencies north of the border, don’t we now hosers?
Coronodo Speed Festival 4-Pack Giveaway
You can support your soldiers and military personnel, and celebrate the need for speed at the same time. Coronado Speed Fest is the highlight of the Fleet Week San Diego, and features a full-fledge car enthusiast experience. Watch vintage cars from around the country race around a 1.7 mile track made from the runways and taxiways of the military base.
One of the big draws of Speedfest is the the opportunity for fans to walk through the garage area and watch as race cars are put through final inspections before hitting the track. You can tour the race car pits and mingle with the crews and drivers like a VIP.
There will be car shows featuring makes & models spanning the decades including categories for Shelby, Chevy, Olds, Buick, Pontiac, Corvette, Ford, T-Bird, Chrysler, Plymouth, Mustangs, Street Rod and Customs. There will be several car clubs representing their brands as well. Of course, there will be a “vendor village” so you can score the latest in technology (or novelty) for your car.
You don’t just have to be a auto voyeur… Chevrolet will have some of their hottest, newest models available for interactive test drives. The hot, new Chevy Camaro, and the sexy “topless” Camaro Convertible, and the brand-new, sub-4-second 0-60 time Corvette GS Convertible will available for the Ride & Drive event (drivers must be 21-years of age or older).
You can also preview some of the other Chevys, including the Chevy Volt, Corvette ZR1, Corvette Z06, 45th Anniversary Camaro SS and the 565 horse-power Cadillac CTS-V… That’s merely five ponies shy of the Ferrari’s flagship 458 Italia.
Tickets are $35 each, but admission is FREE for all active duty and active reserve members and their direct dependents, and for children 12 and under. It can also be free for you… just leave a comment below for your chance to win a Family Four-Pack to Coronado Speed Festival. Visit the home site for more information, or to purchase tickets: CORONADO SPEED FESTIVAL.
Leave a comment below for your chance to win. Winner will be announced on Thursday morning, 9:00 a.m. PT, so get your comments in.
Ultraluxe – You Dig it The Most
One of my favorite scenes in my favorite movie is when Vincent (Travolta’s character) tells Jules (Samuel L. Jackson’s character) about the nuances of Europe, namely “you can buy beer in a movie theatre.”
I’m here to tell you first hand that buying beer in a movie theatre is the single most significant happening to happen to film since sound. I’m not sure if I’ve told you TheBushReportians, but I led a charmed life before. I worked in a capacity with a company that had me going to movie/press screeners and premieres so often that I got bored with it. The one thing that was constant was they would serve you food and drink before the movies. Let’s just say that after a few Amstel Lights, Charlie’s Angels was one the best movies I’d seen all year. We saw Our Idiot Brother, and after a couple IPAs, I was moved to tears by Paul Rudd’s performance.
Now, here’s the rub. Ultraluxe theaters at the Gardenwalk in Anaheim… wait for it… sells beer in their theater. Not just any beer either. They had a Stone IPA, an Arrogant Bastard Ale and some other quite potent potables.
Too boot, their theatres are all digital. That’s something you’d think all theaters would be at this point, but not so much. Don’t listen to film auture posers who tell you that film is the only medium. It’s the old medium. Digital is the way to go for a consistent, crisp picture that doesn’t degrade over time.
Ultraluxe is also home to the only D-Box theatre seats in Orange county. D-Box seats are motion coded to the scene you’re watching (English please?). The seats move with your film and sound emanates from beneath you. Let’s just say if you were to see the shoot-out scene in Heat in a D-Box seat, you might need a motion sickness bag. The movements are actually pretty subtle, and you can control the intensity with settings on the armrest, but after watching a scene with it, the same movie seems rather hollow without it. It’s an $8 premium, but you get an assigned seat which, motion aside, almost makes it worth it.
So that’s my pitch for Ultralux. They have great, all digital theaters and are the Orange county exclusive theater for D-Box. Sure, all their seats are comfy, they validate parking, and the staff is nice as kittens, but the real reason to go is “you can buy beer” in thier movie theater.
You heard it here first… Now, does anybody know where I can get a Big Kahuna burger?
If you have young ones with the attention spans of gnats, the circus is the perfect show for you. We went last year, and the kids were fully engaged. You can take a family of four for less than $50, and the best part is, if they start acting up, you can just leave them there.
I’m giving away a Four Tickets to a special Media Night on Wednesday, July 27th. For your Chance to win, just leave a comment below!
Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey® has a special $48 Family Four Pack price to their latest show Fully Charged, where megawatts of thrills explode off the arena floor with breathtaking dare-devilry, superhuman stunts and never-before-seen performances that will energize Children Of All Ages!
Be sure to arrive early, because all ticket holders have access to the Pre-Show Power-Up Party where families can step onto the arena floor to meet the performers, try on costumes, learn circus skills through the CircusFit® program and get a chance to see a remarkable elephant paint a masterpiece, The All Access Pre-Show Power-Up Party is FREE with a purchased ticket!
WHAT: Elephants and tigers, high-wire acts, The Human Fuse, Clown Alley, and a gaggle of showcases to Fully Charge your evening!
WHEN: Wednesday, July 20, 2011 – Sunday, August 14, 2011
WHERE: Los Angeles – Staples Center: Wednesday, July 20 – Sunday, July 24
1111 South Figueroa Street, Los Angeles 90015
Tickets – $12 (opening night), $15, $20, $25, $40 (VIP), $70 (Front Row) and $100 (Circus Celebrity)
- Wednesday, July 20 – 7:30pm
- Thursday, July 21 – 12:00pm, 7:30pm
- Friday, July 22 – 12:00pm, 7:30pm
- Saturday, July 23 – 11:30am, 3:30pm, 7:30pm
- Sunday, July 24 – 11:30am, 3:30pm, 7:30pm
Orange County – Honda Center: Wednesday, July 27 – Sunday, August 7
2695 E. Katella, Anaheim, CA 92806
Tickets – $12 (opening night), $15, $20, $25, $40 (VIP), $70 (Front Row) and $100 (Circus Celebrity)
- Wednesday, July 27 – 7:30pm
- Thursday, July 28 – 1:00pm, 7:30pm
- Friday, July 29 – 10:30am, 7:30pm
- Saturday, July 30 – 11:30am, 3:30pm, 7:30pm
- Sunday, July 31 – 1:30pm, 5:30pm
- Tuesday, August 2 – 7:30pm
- Wednesday, August 3 – 1:00pm, 7:30pm
- Thursday, August 4 – 10:30am, 7:30pm
- Friday, August 5 – 1:00pm, 7:30pm
- Saturday, August 6 – 11:30am, 3:30pm, 7:30pm
- Sunday, August 7 – 1:30pm, 5:30pm
Inland Empire – Citizens Business Bank Arena: Wednesday, August 10 – Sunday, August 14
4000 Ontario Center Parkway, Ontario, CA 91764
Tickets – $12 (opening night), $15, $20, $25, $40 (VIP), and $70 (Front Row)
- Wednesday, August 10 – 7:30pm
- Thursday, August 11 – 7:30pm
- Friday, August 12 – 12:00pm, 7:30pm
- Saturday, August 13 – 11:30am, 3:30pm, 7:30pm
- Sunday, August 14 – 11:30am, 3:30pm, 7:30pm
TICKETS: Show ticket prices range from $12 – $100
Opening Night tickets available for only $12 each (not valid for premium seating)
HOW: All seats are reserved and available at the venue Box Office, online at Ticketmaster.com or by calling 800-745-3000, or click here for the information on the Family Four Pack.
And, I was just kidding about leaving your kids. You have to take them home with you after the show.
Again, for your chance to win 4 Tickets, just leave a comment below. I’ll draw the winner by random on Monday, 7/25.
_________________________________________________________________________
Update… We have a winner. 
Comment #1 is the winner. I’ll contact you via email for instructions on how to pick up the tickets. Thanks to both of the entrants for playing!
Hockey Pucker!
I know it’s the middle of summer, but what better way to cool off than than to sit in a freezing arena and watch your little one make prat falls on ice? KHS Arena, also known as Wildcats Hockey, offers free hockey for your Duck or King-to-be. KHS Arena is in a building about a mile west of “The Pond” (Honda Center). This class is for both boys and girls from 3 years old to 8 years old with no previous experience in hockey or skating.
Why would they offer this program? Coach Wess Estes says that it’s a great way to introduce hockey to little ones without having to buy all the equipment just to find out your kid doesn’t like it. He knows that hockey is a big commitment for both player and parent, and his program eases the barriers to entry.
It’s seriously a great program, and the awesome coaching staff will have your little pucker skating within 1-2 sessions. If for no other reason, the photo opportunities alone are worth the enrollment.
The KHS Free Hockey Class includes:
- (4) One Hour Classes with experienced coaches
- (4) Public Sessions/Stick
- Time for self practice time
- All the loaner Equipment you will need including: Skates, Jersey, Helmet, Shin Guards, Hockey Pants, Elbow Pads, Shoulder Pads, Gloves and an equipment bag to hold it all.
All you need to get started is a refundable deposit (check or credit card) for the equipment, and some thick skin as a parent; your kid will fall, but they all seem to love it.
They also have a learn to skate program if any of you ladies want to saddle your broken ice princess dreams on the skates of your little girls.
Getting started is pretty easy. Just contact Cherrie Sweeney (714) 422-1236 ext. 253 or at cherrie@khsice.com to sign up, or go to www.khsice.com. Don’t be discouraged if the people answering the phone don’t have all the info. After all, it is free.
Later Skater!
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What Can “Brown” Do For You?
In what many women would consider a sign of marriage doom, I scheduled my honeymoon around the Lakers playoffs. My wife and I were married on June 9 almost 10 years ago, right in the warm, gooey center of the Lakers last 3-peat (I don’t care, I’m not paying Riley any royalties for that usage). We ended up in Aruba where I was promised the resort had “American TV;” they did. There were a few doctor’s kids there from Philly. Lakers had lost their only game of the entire playoffs to Iverson’s Sixers, so these “ne’er do poor” punks were full of bravado. That was Sunday. Their vacation and title hopes were done by Friday.
My point is, I’m a feverish Lakers fan. Not having Lakers basketball in late May, much less June, is disconcerting. The Lakers have been in the finals in seven of the last 10 years, so imagine my dismay when the team quit against what seemed to be a “soft” Mav’s team just 17 days ago. I’ve been relegated to feigning interest in “Real Housewives” episodes ’cause I can’t bear to devote three hours to the likes of Miami or Dallas (NBA Teams, not Housewives). The inevitable finals match-up of disgusting, apostate star and a reprehensible owner may be good TV, but it’s gut-wrenching to me to know that one of those two “personalities” will have a championship.
Today, Laker nation was hit with another blow. Mike Brown was announced as the new Lakers coach. Mike Brown… the name an amalgamation of two of the most nondescript names in America. He’s a veritable “Joe Smith,” even though the Lakers already have one of those.
If you don’t follow basketball very closely, that name means nothing to you. If you do follow basketball closely, then your response to the Jim Buss hiring of Mike Brown is likely “who?” Brown is lauded for his “definitive minded” teams, but Brown is also a proven loser. He’s lost at the highest levels; his Cavaliers were swept by the Spurs in the 1997 NBA Finals. He lost his best player, Lebron James, who was ostensibly cavalier in the Cavalier’s ousting in the 2010 playoffs. That loss led to the loss of his job.
What’s the worst thing about the Brown hiring? Inevitably, it’s the terrible UPS puns, “What Can Brown Do For You?” Beyond that, it’s the elephant on the court that only a few news agencies seem to acknowledge. Kobe Bryant, by all reports, hasn’t had any input on the situation. Jerry Buss’s kid can think what he wants, but this is Kobe’s team. If Kobe doesn’t endorse the offering, then Mike Brown doesn’t stand a chance. Buss’s attempt to put his stamp on the Laker organization may backfire; his stamp may be a parcel post delivery of this team into turmoil. When Al Davis when sideways on Marcus Allen decades ago, his Raiders followed suit.
Also, L.A. is known for “Showtime” and “The Lake Show”. I don’t think 72-69 wins are going to appease a triple-digit paying Staples Center public. Brown better concentrate on offense. I don’t think he’ll have a problem in that regard. This Lakers team has veteran offensive weapons (Kobe, Pau, Lamar) and explosive youth (Andrew Bynum, Shannon Brown). Scoring should be easier than sex with a hooker.
But Brown is a “ra-ra” guy. Coming from a climate where the ex-head coach was visibly stoic in adversity, Brown’s animations may not be welcome in a Lakers huddle. Time will tell, but for my money, Brown’s first worst move was not reaching out to Kobe before he took the job. An endorsement from the team’s true leader and rightful league MVP (OK, maybe not this year) would go far to ease the anxiety of this Lakers fan.
Do what you will Mike Brown and Jim Buss. Just know that 1) This hire may be a bigger gamble than Jerry Buss driving drunk the wrong way with a 23-year-old passenger (read: escort) and 2) This Lakers fan’s fever might break if you screw it up too much… afterall, I may have some “Royals” to root for right here in Orange County, and I’m not talking about William and Kate.
The Bitch is Back
I’m referring to The Bachelorette, of course. Problem is, she’s not really a bitch. She’s a little indecisive, perhaps a little too cutsie, but she’s not a bitch. She’s nice. She’s not particularly gorgeous either. She’s pleasant, and she’s on her way to being a dentist. So she’s a boring, wishy washy, so-so looking, somewhat single girl with a stable career. Is that the best you could do ABC?
Seriously, why don’t you follow the lead of NBC and put some real bitches on a reality show? Nene Leakes from The Apprentice would be a great choice. Now that girl’s a bitch. I realize full well that if Nene were to read this, she would be finger-wagging, “oh hell no-ing” and coming for me like a cheetah after a wounded gazelle.
If Ashely caught wind of me calling her by some dirty slang, she’d probably bat her lashes and say “awww, that’s not nice.” You wanna’ know what that’s not? That’s not good TV. Nene is, and if my Housewives of Atlanta plotlines are up to date, the bitch is single too.
So ABC, please do us a favor, and put some spice in the show, as in Spice Channel. If you can’t put someone interesting or smokin’ hot in the 8 p.m. Monday timeslot, at least make her slutty. It’s not like you’ll have Monday Night Football anytime soon, so you better get all your contact sporting out on The Bachelorette herself.
By the way, having the liqour distributor get pass-out drunk on the first night was a nice touch. Let’s set the bar nice and low for this season and see what derelicts dare try to limbo underneath. Here’s to a season of rainbows, unicorns and debauchery… don’t let us down Ash.
Lakers Myopia
Myopia… It’s not just a disease of the eyes. It’s a fancy way to say you can’t see the big picture. Laker fans, I’d like you to take a macro view of the situation. Macro is just a fancy way to say “big picture.” This is not Alcoholics Anonymous. It is not “one day at a time.” This is about the whole, or as they say in the liberal arts, “the Gestalt“… a fancy way to say that the sum of the parts is greater than the whole.
What am I getting at? Well, the Lakers were in this exact situation last year. In 2010, the OKC Thunder took the Lakers to 2-2, only to get rocked in game 6. Two years ago, the Lakers went to 7 games in the first round against a Houston Rockets squad led by Shane Battier. We’ve been here before, and we’ve prevailed.
The Western Conference is strong as always. The East is tougher than it’s been in decades. Don’t look at one flailing “soccer play” by Pau Gasol and think it summarizes the Lakers. It doesn’t. The Lakers are stronger than they’ve ever been. Lamar is a better player than he’s ever been in purple in gold or any other color. This year we have Artest AND Arizza (OK, it’s Barnes, but there’s not much dropoff from Trevor). We have a “healthy” Bynum and a backup point guard that knows and plays the triangle.
This is the same script as the first two. Don’t worry. The Lakers are the heros, and they’ll leave with the prettiest girl in the room. It’s just odd that her name will be Larry O’Brien.
The McCourt of Public Opinion
*Repost given breaking news “Baseball Takes Over Control of Los Angeles Dodgers“
This is my official plea. I want Mark Cuban to buy the Dodgers.
Los Angeles Superior Court Comissioner Scott Gordon suggested that the McCourts sell the team in an attempt to settle their divorce dispute. I’m not sure who’s at fault, and I’m not a huge fan of the parking lot attendant, but have you seen Mrs. McCourt? She definely doesn’t look like some rich guy’s wife. She requested $1,000,000 per month in alimony. Come on, who can survive in Los Angeles on less than $12 million per year? I think the creatures on “Alien vols. 1-3” are more sympathetic than her… and perhaps, a little better looking. 
He’s not so compelling of a case himself. Frank McCourt is noted as saying “Why would I spend $150 million to win 98 games when I can spend half that to win 90, if that’s all it takes to make the playoffs in our division?”
Cuban would say, why wouldn’t I spend $150 million if it got me home-field throughout the playoffs?
Mark, this is my love letter to you. I want you. You are beautiful. The way you incur NBA fine money and spend in free agency is truly sexy. You are a fool, but you are a fool for love. Besides, the MLB commissioner is just a shell of the NBA’s David Stern. Your antics would go almost un-noticed. Come to L.A. and spread that foolish love. Preserve what the Dodgers are all about, but infuse your crazy, infectious energy into them… and by energy, I mean free-agency cash.
Mark, you were thwarted in your bid for the Cubs, even though your bid was the highest. But in true bachelor fashion, this time around you are the McCourter; you are the bachelor. Please choose L.A. I know you have the Texas Rangers with their insolvency. They may look like the hot pick sitting in first place, but they are not your best option. Heck, even GW Bush divested in them.
So do the prudent thing. Do the right thing. Do the L.A. thang and buy the Dodgers.
But if you marry, just make sure you sign a pre-nup… We don’t want any chick crazier than you coming along and screwing it up.
Ol’ McDonald Had a Quirk
This season on American Idol has been really good and kind of difficult. There is a breadth of talent like no other season has had. I don’t think the touring 10 (the ones that “get” to hit 60 cities in 30 days, that is) has ever been so collectively good. There’s no Kelly Clarkson this year. There are no standouts; Paul stands out for wardrobe choices, there there isn’t any one, clear favorite.
My advice to Paul (since he’s asking) is to put a record out tomorrow and get it on the shelves as quickly as possible before your target audience of under-sexed Southwestern grocery store clerks forgets about your raspy voice and pearly whites. You, sir, were likely the best showman of the bunch, but admittedly, had the least vocal chops. Do this pronto, because it won’t be long before your slumming Nashville bars, Branson stages, and artsy coffee shops.
The one that might garner the largest support because of his mid-american appeal may be the least likely winner on the Cowell-scale. The Frankensteinian creation to whom I refer, of course, is the guy who would be the likely product if Josh Turner and Alfed E. Newman had an offspring.
This guy, too, is quirky. Not because of any Nudie Suits (look it up), but because this guy is a total dichotomy. He’s kind of cool, and totally geeky at the same time. He has a cheesy sort of genuineity (yes, I’m making up words now) that plays well in Poughkeepsie and Plano, TX. The dude has some serious docile pipes, the kind 3-boxes-a-day of filter-less Camels couldn’t breed. Hearing that voice come out of that floppy-eared head is the same sort of visual – auditory incongruity you get when you see a muscle bound, face-tatted Mike Tyson squeak like a chew toy.
We’ve got a rocker, a crooner, a hipster, a soul daddy, a country bell, a cabaret singer and Stefano left. It sounds like the bridge to a punchline, but if you ask me, it’s a pretty great season of Idol. Despite the fact that watching American Idol isn’t supposed to be cool, this season is exactly that.
An Open Letter to the Lakers
Dear Lakers,
If you don’t care, why should I? Collectively, you have done nothing to inspire greatness. You are a dichotomy of a team. You lose five-straight, win 16 of 17, then lose five more. Your lackluster play led to an injury that could prove devastating to The Lakers’ and Phil Jackson’s legacy. Instead of resting the stars for the playoffs, you’ve got Bynum out there against a depleted (read: rested) Spurs team. Drew has now “hyper-extended” his knee and is out for the rest of the game. I saw the play. His knee did not hyper extend it; it moved laterally. My guess is, after tomorrow’s MRI, the “game” in the sentence above will be changed to “season.”
It’s really off-putting that effort is the problem in the Lakers demise. When someone quits on me, it makes me want to do the same. When a team does it, it makes me feel foolish for ever devoting the time to an entity I’ve got no attachment to other than proximity.
It bothers me that I’ve watched every Lakers game this season. That’ll equate to 246 hours just for the regular season. I’ve dedicated 10-days to this team and they can’t bust their ass for the last week of the season.
Know this: I have one foot out the door. If you fizzle in the playoffs and then decide to take a season off due to a lockout during the biggest economic depression in the I’ll ever see in my lifetime, don’t be surprised if I don’t come running back.
Sports are supposed to be an escape. When the team I follow phones it it, it just reminds me what spoiled, truculent children the lot of you are.
“For better or worse” is for marriage, and I’m not married to this team or this league. You may call me fickle, and you may question my fandom, but I learned many years ago that the concept of loyalty is one lost on this country. Companies, by and large, do not honor it. Sports teams make business decisions independent of their fans. Why should we stay loyal? I’ve yet to see one royalty check from the Lakers or any other franchise.
I’ll revise my opening salvo. If you don’t care, I won’t.
Sincerely,
Laker fan
TheBushReport turns 1…
So, it’s official. TheBushReport is one year old today. This catharsis (read: time suck) in virtual print now has 120 posts and almost as many comments. So how’s a blog to celebrate?
The birth-yay coincides with opening day of baseball, so what a great day to eulogize… I mean commemorate. I’m still having issues with my Dodger and Angel co-fandom. For now, I’m a Danger fan… It begins and ends with the Dodgers, with a little Angles in between. Proximity is a bitch, and so is the Dodger divorce, so while the Dodgers have my heart, the Angels have my attendance.
I saw musings that bode well for the Blue Crew. They signed Billingsley to four years and $44 mil, which seems like a pretty good deal for a guy with a 3.5 ERA and plenty of upside.
The hated one’s (The Giants) are in town for the home opener, and reports are that their #4 starter, Barry Zito, was rear-ended in West Hollywood last night… he was also in a car crash!
Also, the Lakers face off with the likely eventual owner of the Dodgers, Mark Cuban, and his ever-changing Mavericks. The Mavs are just a half game behind the Lakers for second in the Western Conference, so this stands to be a contentions game. Cuban will, no doubt, be in the front row acting a fool while the Lakers make a mockery of his team… but he’ll be good for the Dodgers.
So, Happy Birthday TheBushReport… even though I’ve neglected you of late like a crack-addicted baby mama, I love you.
Now go get some comments and try to win your daddy’s approval.
NFL Lockout
NFL Players Association decertifies; What’s that mean. It means they are officially on strike.
The NBA on the cusp of a lockout too. I hope all the sports lock out.
Do these owners and players realize what the rest of the world is going through? I have no sympathy for the owners. I only wish there was someone rich enough to come along and set up a new NFL and let the other one die. It just seems like the wrong time to be fighting over millions and billions when there are people losing homes and unemployment is at 10%.
I lean to the players, but they aren’t exactly the poster children for sympathy either. Really players, what are you fighting for? You’re going to be broke three years out of the league anyway. What’s it matter if you blew $30 million or $40 million in your short, less-than-a-decade career.
I hope they all lock out and my weekends and nights won’t be held hostage by rich, greedy owners and clueless, indulgent athletes.
All this is going down right before the most exciting sports event of the year, March Madness. College Sports are screwed too, but at least they are not as overtly greedy as the professionals.
Maybe if less people (self included) are distracted by sports, they’ll pay attention to the fleecing that’s happened at the hands of our government and banks.
Oh yeah… Happy Friday!
The Crying Game
Lebron and his South Beach talents have shed some tears over the last few weeks. The team is on a 5-game slide, and the news doesn’t get any better for them.
Today, they host the Lakers, winners of 8-straight, and a team with a vendetta from their Christmas day ass-whooping they endured at the hands and feet of the Miami’s “big 3.”
This, however, is probably the best thing that could happen to that team, and more pointedly, Lebron James. This series of challenging losses has to be a culture shock for Lebron. People have questioned his “decision-making” before. People have also questioned his character. They questioned his resolve, but they have never questioned his “talents.”
This losing streak has to make Lebron question himself. The kid has been doted on for the better part of two decades, so this may be the first time he’s ever had to do some introspection. When coaches, fans and hangers-on tell you nothing but good for all your life, it must be difficult to realize that you may need to work on yourself.
The one thing that could almost make Miami and Lebron sympathetic is the humbling that they have had to endure. So while they could win tonight against the Lakers, this couch-potato-turned-therapist thinks that in the long-term, they need to be broken down more completely before they will ever be able to be rebuilt.
So here’s hoping that the Heat cry for at least one more game. Lebron: Take your ass-whooping like a man tonight, and shed your tears like Dick Vermeil in a post-game press conference… one day, you’ll thank the Lakers for it.
Get your head out of the cloud
I once had a dot-matrix printout of this Farrah Fawcett poster.
It’s quite geeky, I know, but my dad was a programmer and this was cool in his circles.
She was quite the icon for her day, but in computer printout form, Farrah is the perfect allegory for today’s cloud-based culture. The “ones” and “zeros’ are the symbolic narrative for how we live our lives today.
What is cloud computing exactly? My best explanation is that it is internet based resourcing with the “big win” that your same resources are available anywhere you have a connection. This goes for applications, phone systems, and now I’m realizing, much more.
We’re moving to cloud-based social circles. Our lives are all available online, and for some, exclusively so. As humans, we are inherently social animals. Now, we’re becoming social-media animals. I can’t tell you how often I’m engaged in a real conversation when I get this incessant urge to pull out the iPhone and verify a fact or document my story with photos, or if the conversation is pedantic, check my media streams (show of hands?).
I’m an avid Facebooker, and I blog for several sites, including my own. It’s become such a part of me that I think what I’ve written has actually been a veritable experience. If you have witnessed my on-line life, you’d know a lot about me. If you don’t, well then you don’t know Jack… or Steve… or Rhonda… or…
I’m a huge fan of irony, and though I don’t intentionally seek to, I manufacture it daily. My need to post “good material” hinders the very things I post about. I’m hyper-interested in documenting “the moment” instead of living in it. When I go to Disneyland, I’m more set on contriving memories than experiencing them. My poor kid spends half his day posing for his parents-slash-online agents. And deity forbid I go to bed without checking my Facebook timeline.
If Shakespeare was right, then the whole world’s a stage. It’s just online now in the form of Facebook and sites like this. If The Bard of Avon were alive today, The Globe might just be a blog and not the most noted theater in history, and “to be or not to be” might just be a late-night Tweet instead of the beginning of the celebrated Hamlet soliloquy.
What’s my call to action here? It’s simple: Get your head out of the cloud and live life on-Earth and not online. Yes. I’m advocating that you ditch the smart phone and the social media, and get on with your three dimensional self. Are you with me?
Wait, hold that pose… that that look of indignation will be perfect for my next Facebook post.
originally posted FEBRUARY 24, 2011 at www.TheSmartlyOC.com
Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Later
My wife was out of town for the weekend, and I was on my own with a four-year-old. Pretty much, all I had to do was get him to school on Friday, and manage to keep him breathing through the weekend. How tough could it be? I’ve made his lunch, got him dressed, fixed his hair to order and bathed him before. I usually pitch in doing any number of the aforementioned tasks, but I’ve never had to do them all at once. I’ve heard about myth about it being impossible to get out of the house before 10:00 a.m. with kids, but I wasn’t going to fall victim to that wives tale. I’m a smart, efficient dad who can do everything mommy can do (If that’s not foreshadowing, I don’t know what is).
He starts school at 9:00, but I gave myself another forty-five minutes leeway as I had a 10:00 appointment near his school; I chose to drop him off on the way as opposed to making two trips because it was the green thing to do (yes, I’m sticking to that).
I was on schedule, breaking for the door at 9:40. I was holding the door open for Jack when Zoe, our indoor cat, darted out. Because we’re in coyote country, I had to round her up on the fly. Cue the Benny Hill music. I bolted out on the damp grass in leather soles, making cuts worthy of a tailback. The label in my woolen suit reads “athletic cut,” but somehow I don’t think scaling pony walls is what Hart/Schaffner/Marx had in mind. So after a few minutes of giving chase and foraging through the flower bed, the fugative feline acquiesced. We were a few minutes behind, but not without hope of timeliness.
I buckled Jack in the 5-point harnace just when I remembered that I did not remember to make his favorite sandwhich. So, I undid his restraints and left the car running while the two of us hustled in the house to assemble the mayonnaise, mustard and cheese on white bread (we’re not poor… that’s just his favorite). I added in some loose grapes in a ziplock, a juicebox and an ice pack, and we were off.
Then, I remembered that Fridays are share days. I asked Jack if he knew what letter of the alphabet he had to share today. He paused and said “Q”? Skeptically, I asked “are you sure?” He replied definitively with a head nod, “yeah.” I fumbled through the papers on the push-pin board, hoping I could verify he was mistaken. He wasn’t. We were falling urgently behind, and I was racking my brain trying to think of something he can bring that starts with “Q.” I would have made a Quesadilla if that wouldn’t have set us even further behind. He has Quicksilver shorts, but there was threat of rain, so that wouldn’t work. I was really in a Quandary. So in the ultimate “phoning-it-in” play, I went to the bathroom to get… you guessed it… a Q-tip. I dropped it in another ziplock, then I rehearsed his presentation with my preschooler. It was one sentence: “A Q-tip is for cleaning your ears.”
So discombobulated, late, and thoroughly embarrassed by the pitiful, or should I say, quotidian Q-share, we drove off. I had to text my 10:00 a.m. appointment that I would be a little late; that was disconcerting. I also had to pen Jack “in” at 10:01 a.m. over the penciled “ABSENT” on the sign-in sheet all the while selling one of those awkward, apologetic, half smile, half frown expressions. That too was cause for shame.
But all was not lost. I did manage to keep him breathing through Sunday afternoon, and I verified that I can do everything mommy can do. I just can’t do it by 10:00 a.m.
originally published at OCFamily.com
The Fullerton Angel(s) of Placentia
Originally published 2/15/11 at OCFamily.com
If you have followed me here for any time, then you know I have struggled with the fact that I’m a Dodger fan living in Orange County. I’ve always been of the opinion that because I like the Dodgers does not mean I have to hate the Angels… I root for them. In fact, I was deeply rooted on the band wagon in 2002 when they won the World Series.
I like the Angels, and admit that they have a far better fan experience than Dodger Stadium does (especially since there’s now a divorce tax on all concessions at Chavez Ravine). I just don’t actively follow the inaptly named Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim…
All that is about to change. Forget Angels in the outfield; I now have one in my living room. Jackson Bush, #24, is now a member of the Placentia Foal T-Ball Angels, otherwise known to me as the Fullerton Angels of Placentia. So now I am paternally and duly obligated to encourage, nurture and follow the Angels, that includes all Angels, even those who reside in Los Angeles… err, Anaheim.
While I’d like to rest my pro-career dreams on those little, able, red-jersey-ed shoulders, I think it best I just let the slugger have fun. If the first few practices are any indication, he’ll be better suited in the Media Relations office of Anaheim Stadium than on any field. He took the time out of his busy fielding schedule to stop the coach and let him know that “That’s my mommy in the black shirt and my daddy in the green shirt,” pointing to the make-shift bleachers off of first base.
While shagging grounders, he was discussing what I can only imagine was either Clone Wars or our nation’s fiscal policy with one of the parent-helpers, all the while his back was facing hope plate. When I implored him to “look at home plate,” he bent over and sneaked an upside-down peek between his legs.
One of the training drills involved throwing the squishy t-balls through a hula hoop; to my chagrin, I found him playing with it while the other kids were on to another drill, running the bases.
There was also the occasion where he took the high-five to an all new level… the full embrace of his teammates.
He did, however, ask some probing questions of the coach when he pointed at the white rectangle in the middle of the infield and inquired what it was. The coach responded “that’s the rubber.” As any good media relations stalwart would do, he posed a follow-up interrogative, “What’s a rubber?” The coach told him that it’s where the pitcher stands. Jack said “oh,” acknowledging the skipper and then followed his pregnant pause with this doozie: “What’s a pitcher?”
Jack may be an Angel now, but the coach… he’s a saint.
The Advanced Auto Parts Monster Jam! comes back to town on Saturday (keep reading: discount code below). We got a chance to get a behind the scenes look with some local media representatives. While perched on the tire of one of the Monster Trucks, Jack was interviewed by OC Register reporter Mark Eades.
If that doesn’t tell you every thing you need to know, then I don’t know what will… I take that back, you should also know the password to get you $5 off per ticket. Buy tickets at the box office, go to http://www.ticketmaster.com or call 800-745-300 to get the discount. The password is “Mommy.” See the Monster Truck 2011 MOMMY Flyer for more details. Note, that the Monster Truckers will make their debut at Dodger Stadium on February 19th.
Forty is a cusp word…
Originally published on OCFamily on 1/18/11.
The cusp is often associated with the signs of the Zodiac. We all had a scare with the thought that our birth sign may have changed with the discovery of a new Zodiac No. 13, Ophiuchus.
I am on the cusp of something much more daunting: Forty. It’s the dawn of a new age for this Aquarian. And though this soon-to-be forty-year-old is no virgin, it is still a milestone of great significance.
Today, I shaved my sideburns a little bit higher because the gray is starting to show there. But what does it really mean? Does it me I can’t wear True Religion jeans without inviting ridicule? Does it mean I finally need to grow up and quick snickering when someone says “duty?” Clearly, I’m quite nonplussed as to how to deal with it.
In all actuality, this most recent stage of my life has mostly been defined as “dad,” and my little parent-ee, Jack, knows no age but his own. Well, I take that back. On a recent “Dad’s day” project at his preschool, he listed my age as “28-years-old.” So I’ll tell myself, if it doesn’t matter to him, why should it matter to me? After all, it’s just a number… but this one is a big one. A big, fat four followed by an equally doughy zero.
It is a large number in both the figurative and literal senses. If I’m to believe the actuary charts, I’m more than half dead. My midlife crisis may have come and gone, and I didn’t get so much as a Corvette. So, yes, my next birthday may come with some strife.
In fact, I just may have to celebrate with something half my age to get me through this wayward waypost. A little thing that’s sweet and mellow. A medium-long, peppery honey with a hint of smoke. I’m speaking of a cask-aged bottle of Scotch, of course…
Why, what were you thinking?
The Ghost Post
It’s a rare, but extrodinary, phenomenon. It’s called the “ghost post.” It’s when a friend’s racy Facebook post or psycho rant appears and subsequently disappears from your timeline.
It’s a beautiful thing, but it’s fleeting. Trying to capture it is like trying hold a rainbow. It is for that very reason that I am creating a new Facebook application that will do that dirty work for you. It is called WURT or What You Really Think.
Get a little salty on a post and have a change of heart? Too bad, WURT knows. Have a late-night drunken rant and want to retract it the morning after? Sorry. Your instability is there for all to see. Did your mom just join Facebook and you need to pull down your slutty party photos? Better ignore mommy’s friend request, because those duck-face photos will live in perpetuity now.
If you have a ghost post problem, perhaps it’s time that you replace the filter in your brain. If your temporary post is a cathartic experience, get a journal. If you have frustrations with boyfriends, wives, jobs, perhaps get a hobby. Because WURT is about accountability.
Words are not temporary; they are everlong. So if you say it or you type it, we’ll know it. With WURT, facebook posts are as permanent as tattoos, so you better think it through. It is for this very reason that I have chosen not to post stuff like this:
If my wife ever leaves me, I hope it’s for someone who beats her.
or
In honor of Black History Month, I will henceforth speak “Jive” in the Month of February.
You just can’t post stuff like that in this politically correct era. People may not get your humor. You may offend people, or you may just show that you have the emotional maturity of a third grader. Worse yet is that you post it, and then you backpedal like an NFL cornerback, indicating you have a gross lack of restraint or, even worse, conviction. Being a grown up is hard. So please, post your thoughts, your fears, your jokes and frustrations. Just don’t try to take them back, because we know What U Really Think..
Monsters Invade So. Cal!
Dateline – Anaheim, CA
Headline: Monsters Invade So. Cal.
Monster Trucks, that is. The Advanced Auto Parts Monster Jam! comes to Anaheim Stadium January 29 and February 12 (keep reading: discount code below). We got the opportunity to see these rigs up close today, and they are some impressive machinery.
3 Patriotic Steves (Jack Stephen, Steven Paul, and Eric Steven)
If you’ve never been, its a must. The smell of top fuel, the uproarious sounds of a unbridled 1,500 horse-power motor. To get that many ponies, you’d have spend an entire season at Santa Anita Park.
Here’s a quick sample of these “gentlemen starting their engines” from up close…
Don’t miss your chance to see them. Just come to Anaheim Stadium January 29th and February 12th for the Advanced Auto Parts Monster Jam and get $5 off your tickets. Buy tickets at the box office, go to http://www.ticketmaster.com or call 800-745-300 to get the discount. The password is “Mommy.” See the Monster Truck 2011 MOMMY Flyer for more details.
There’s one more show at Dodger Stadium on February 19th, and it’s a historic one. They’ve never had Monster Jam up at Chavez Ravine…My guess is the 
McCourts need the divorce money… I think they also rent the stadium out for Bar Mitzvahs now? You might want to make that jam. It may be the only chance to have any fun in that yard this year if the Dodgers’ off-season moves are any indication of their impending season (they haven’t done squat).
So whether you want to jam in the OC or go slumming up in LA, just come on out and watch them get dirty. And by the way, mudslinging is normally bad politics, but it’s totally politically correct when it comes to Monster Trucks.
50 fun things to do in an elevator
We all love our lists; I published one just a couple weeks ago (8 ways to a better you). They condense our thoughts and concepts down to manageable units… like storage bins for our brain. 
This is the best list I’ve ever come across, and its about 15 years old. I wish I would have written it myself; however, I would not recommend any of these morsels for your “elevator speech.” Ride along, won’t you?:
50 Fun Things to Do in an Elevator
- Make race car noises when anyone gets on or off.
- Blow your nose and offer to show the contents of your kleenex to other passengers.
- Grimace painfully while smacking your forehead and muttering: “Shut up, dammit, all of you just shut UP!”
- Whistle the first seven notes of “It’s a Small World” incessantly.
- Sell Girl Scout cookies.
- On a long ride, sway side to side at the natural frequency of the elevator.
- Shave.
- Crack open your briefcase or purse, and while peering inside ask: “Got enough air in there?”
- Offer name tags to everyone getting on the elevator. Wear yours upside-down.
- Stand silent and motionless in the corner, facing the wall, without getting off.
- When arriving at your floor, grunt and strain to yank the doors open, then act embarrassed when they open by themselves.
- Lean over to another passenger and whisper: “Noogie patrol coming!”
- Greet everyone getting on the elevator with a warm handshake and ask them to call you Admiral.
- One word: Flatulence!
- On the highest floor, hold the door open and demand that it stay open until you hear the penny you dropped down the shaft go “plink” at the bottom.
- Do Tai Chi exercises.
- Stare, grinning, at another passenger for a while, and then announce: “I’ve got new socks on!”
- When at least 8 people have boarded, moan from the back: “Oh, not now, damn motion sickness!”
- Give religious tracts to each passenger.
- Meow occassionally.
- Bet the other passengers you can fit a quarter in your nose.
- Frown and mutter “gotta go, gotta go” then sigh and say “oops!”
- Show other passengers a wound and ask if it looks infected.
- Sing “Mary had a little lamb” while continually pushing buttons.
- Holler “Chutes away!” whenever the elevator descends.
- Walk on with a cooler that says “human head” on the side.
- Stare at another passenger for a while, then announce “You’re one of THEM!” and move to the far corner of the elevator.
- Burp, and then say “mmmm…tasty!”
- Leave a box between the doors.
- Ask each passenger getting on if you can push the button for them.
- Wear a puppet on your hand and talk to other passengers “through” it.
- Start a sing-along.
- When the elevator is silent, look around and ask “is that your beeper?”
- Play the harmonica.
- Shadow box.
- Say “Ding!” at each floor.
- Lean against the button panel.
- Say “I wonder what all these do” and push the red buttons.
- Listen to the elevator walls with a stethoscope.
- Draw a little square on the floor with chalk and announce to the other passengers that this is your “personal space.”
- Bring a chair along.
- Take a bite of a sandwich and ask another passenger: “Wanna see wha in muh mouf?”
- Blow spit bubbles.
- Pull your gum out of your mouth in long strings.
- Announce in a demonic voice: “I must find a more suitable host body.”
- Carry a blanket and clutch it protectively.
- Make explosion noises when anyone presses a button.
- Wear “X-Ray Specs” and leer suggestively at other passengers.
- Stare at your thumb and say “I think it’s getting larger.”
- If anyone brushes against you, recoil and holler “Bad touch!”
Got any to add? drop ’em in the comments below.
The fangs are out
Aww, man. The Bachelor actually had some sweet moments tonight, like when all the girls in the living room teared up hearing Emily’s tragic story. And Brad seems way less douchey this week. Tonight’s installment was all about dads who had passed and plane-crashed husbands. The whole theme of the evening was opening up, and unfortunately, not the “fantasy suite” kind.
I don’t watch the show for sentimental reasons. I watch it for the “mental” reasons, as in that Michelle girl is totally mental (she is). There’s also the dentist girl who is unraveling faster than a roll of toilet paper down a hill. She wanted to leave tonight, but bad Brad roped her back in with his likely herpes laden lips. She is definitely going to need some Novocaine for her soul after Brad rips it out; her “crazy” was previewed on the epilog.
SPOILER ALERT: We lost 3 blondes and two fangs tonight. But the good news is Brad kept the crazy one, and ABC wouldn’t have it any other way. How else can they make the show interesting if they don’t keep the delusionally self-unaware hair jockey around. The other girls in the house are actually afraid of her. I’m pretty sure they would think it in character if she went all shower-scene Psycho on one of the other girls who dare steal “her man.”
So while the fangs were gone this week, the claws look like they’re coming out in next week.
Previous picks, Ash and Em are going strong, and the Shanwntel/Chantal duo made strides this week.
8 easy ways to a better you
- Hang out with ugly people.
- Change the tags in your jeans to read two sizes smaller.
- Have dogs for friends — They love you despite you.
- Wax politics with 5th graders… better make that 3rd graders.
- Portion control — Drink larger portions of alcohol to mask your terminal sadness.
- Go to your reunion with a hot, your aspiring actor/actress. Tell them they’re playing the role of the spouse, and if they nail it, you’ve got a part in uncle Spielberg’s next movie.
- Memorize a couple statements to sound smart. e.g.: “The quantitative easing by the Feds has had the opposite intended effect in the bond market, primarily because of the reduced global confidence in US economy.” — If some one chimes in, just respond that “Bernanke (pronounced bər-NAN-kee) is an idiot,” and excuse yourself to the restroom.
- Surround yourself with sycophants. Much like LeBron James, you can never be wrong if your posse’ refuses to disagree with your bone-head “decisions.”
There you go. Follow these easy steps, and you will be eight ways to Sunday on your way to becoming a better you. It’s the year of the rabbit, so hop to it.
p.s. Wanna’ hang out?
Bachelor’s third degree
Bachelor Brad Womack is back which makes him a glutton for punishment. Is he a massochist? On the contrary, I think he’s more of a sadist. His last stint on the sensationalized ABC Monday night primer, he left two women standing at the altar.
It what was a total show of class, ABC “surprised” brad by bringing the two woman he dumped a few seasons before on stage; Can you say “awkward?”As if that wasn’t enough, tonight, he was quite literally greeted with a slap. The first woman out of the cavalcade of limos put her palm to the face of the Bachelor redux saying “this is on behalf of America”… SPOILER ALERT: She did not get a rose (correction: she got the last rose). Most of the remaining contestants were grilling the BachelorX2 about his first time around. The first one who didn’t got the “first impression rose.”
Brad assured the ladies that he was a changed man, and that he did a lot of “soul searching” including some “intensive therapy” and that this time, he was ready for matrimony. That is to say that the last time around, he wasn’t so much soul searching as he was hole searching (my interpretation).
Poor Brad. Why not give him a second shot? Really, how was this tall, ruggedly handsome Austinite ever going to find a woman as a rich man in the third-fastest-growing large city in the nation? Seriously, how could this upscale bar-restaurant owner ever find a woman in the “The Live Music Capital of the World.” How indeed would he find love in the capital city of Texas, the home of University of Texas Longhorns, in what the The Travel channel deems “America’s #1 College Town?” The deck is clearly stacked against him.
Is our pool of bachelors in this nation so depleted that the ABC execs had to give handsome Brad another shot? Whatever. It looks like another great season. 
The big brain on Brad picked a woman who quite literally wants to stick her fangs into him. This vampire aficionado has had what appears to be surgically enhanced… err… canines.
There’s also the token “I’m not here to make friends; I’m here for love” girl, which, of course, is code for “total bitch.”
There’s a Radio City Rockette, who may just have legs on this show (pun intended).
And there’s the usual batch of crazy, catty and committable chicks. So welcome back Brad. It’s only a shame that he had to send 10 of the fame whores back home after just one night.
Front-runners after show one: Ashley S. and Emily. Of course, I’m rooting for the double-heartbreak. There’s no way he could do it again, could he?
The Bush Report 