It's like this and like that and like this and uh...

“Where’s the sunshine, Rob?”

I was asked this question a couple of times over the past few weeks in which I felt the need to take a break from this thing. A little time off was needed to recharge my batteries and give this another go. So here we are…whether you like it or not.

Something really strange is happening right now as I type. I’m listening to an interview with sweet old lady on the radio. Her name is Beverly Broadus Green. The interesting thing about this lady (or at least one interesting thing, I’m sure she’s fabulous) is that she is the mother of Calvin Cordozar Broadus, Jr., better known to the world as Snoop Dogg. (Yes, the one and only D O double G.)

It’s just odd to think that Snoop comes from somewhere…and that they still care about him and his ghetto-licious ways.

Less odd than that, however, is that our beloved Bulls swept the reigning champions of the NBA, the Miami Crybabies…er, I mean Heat. Yesterday’s game was exciting to watch as it stayed pretty tight up until the very end when the Heat fell apart faster than a game of Jenga being played by three year olds. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a collapse. After the way the Heat played those last three minutes, they should seriously consider changing their name to the Miami Tepid. As a professed “Dwayne Wade Hater,” this was just too sweet.

I find my enthusiasm building rapidly for the “Baby Bulls.” In fact, we can probably toss the “baby” part of that little moniker. As Vince Vaughn would have said in Swingers, "They’s all growns up!" This team is looking better and more focused with every game and I’m really psyched for this upcoming series with Detroit, although I’m a little disappointed that we’re not meeting them in the conference championship due to the bizarre new seeding system the NBA has decided to implement. Still, the Bulls look to have one of the toughest roads to the title, so there will be no doubt when they win. That ought to have us all feeling bright and shiny.

So there…there’s your sunshine. Bask in it. Bask in it like a snake on some hot pavement. (Ok, so my analogies are a little rusty…give it some time.)

Much luv,
Rob
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Song of the Day: “Right Now” by Van Halen

What a nice fellow...

It’s official…I miss my Mustang. These last two days have been rather beautiful outside and it has led me to miss cruising around with the top down of that ol’ 1990 Mustang 5.0 LX convertible with some good tunage blasting out of the tiny subs in the trunk.

Ah, good times…it never really even mattered where I was going in that car. Just driving it was a pleasure. Still, I don’t really miss the gallon of gasoline that it consumed every eight miles while driving. While it was a fun car to drive, it certainly was not efficient and would be costing me a small fortune with the current gas prices.

Does it seem like the world is getting ruder? Most of the time it really does feel that way. I was even having a discussion last night about the youth of this country and how they’re getting bolder and are willing to mouth off to just about anyone. It seems like it wasn’t an issue as much in the past. Kids who mouthed off got smacked around and learned to keep their traps shut.

Anyway, today a story came to my attention that suggests a little bit of the opposite and it’s good for a laugh. Check out the manners on this burglar:

ALTAMONTE SPRINGS, Florida (AP) -- A gunman robbing a convenience store allowed the clerk to call 911 and apologized after the woman said she might be having a heart attack. But he still took $30 and cigarettes, authorities said.

The masked man entered the Kangaroo Express store early Saturday in this Orlando suburb and pointed what appeared to be a semiautomatic handgun at 60-year-old clerk Mary Parker, according to surveillance audio/video released Thursday. He demanded access to the safe, but she said she didn't have the keys.

He told her to empty the cash register into a bag. He then pulled up a stool for her to sit down and told her he was doing this because no one would hire him and he had bills to pay.

She started hyperventilating and pleaded with the gunman for help.

"I have heart trouble. Help me," Parker said.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," the gunman replied.

"I have heart trouble," Parker told him.

"Ma'am, it's going to be all right," the gunman said.

"I'm probably going to have a heart attack," Parker said.

"Oh my, ma'am, please do not have a heart attack. Please do not have a heart attack. Please don't, ma'am," he said.

The gunman let Parker call 911, and when the store phone didn't work, he let her get her cell phone. She told the operator she was having a heart attack, but didn't mention the robber. She then sat back down on the stool.

A customer came in and, without seeing the gunman, tried to calm Parker. She handed him the phone, and he spoke to the 911 operator.

The gunman then reappeared and told the man to get into the beverage cooler.

He then grabbed his loot and apologized again.

"You have a good day. I'm sorry this had to happen. I'm sorry. God!" he moaned. He then went out the door.

Police said Parker is OK.

Sounds like progress to me, or at least a step towards progress.

Enjoy that sun! (Thanks for bringing it back, Frank!)

Much luv,
Rob
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Song of the Day: “Good Vibrations” by Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch

Man, that goalie is pissed...

Boo! It’s Friday the 13th. Don’t be scared. It’s just another day. (Happy 29th, Nat!) In fact, because it is the first Friday the 13th of the year, it’s a special day…

Back in 1982, a woman in Michigan had a run of bad luck. Her alarm clock did not go off as it was supposed to (or so she claims) and as a result she was late to just about everything all day long. She kept telling people throughout the day that her alarm clock didn’t go off and it didn’t take long for her to realize that excuse wasn’t cutting it. Consequently, she started making things up and blaming anything and everything that should could for all of her shortcomings of the day.

It seemed to be working.

That day? Yeah, it was a Friday the 13th also. So it was back on that first Friday the 13th in 1982 that Anne Moeller came up with the idea for a new national holiday:

Blame Someone Else Day. (The first Friday the 13th of every year.)

So how ‘bout that? Anything goes wrong today…just shift the blame. You were late to work? Just say that you had to save that busload of orphans from going off a bridge. No one can blame you this day.

Just remember that while you’re shifting blame away from yourself, other people are free to shift from themselves on to you.

It’s really a vicious cycle.

And if you’re not happy about it…hey, don’t blame me.

Much luv,
Rob
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Song of the Day: “Iris” by Goo Goo Dolls

Like you're so tough...

It’s been documented that I’m rather scared of dolls. (They freak me out, man!) I may have something new to add to the list…

As I headed out of work and passed by the dumpster to unload some trash, I received quite a startle. Apparently, a little squirrel was in the dumpster near where I threw my garbage. It was not pleased at my attempt to discard my waste.

I did not know that squirrels could screech like that… It cried out in anger towards me like a spoiled child and leapt out of the dumpster, causing me to scream like a little girl. Sure, it wasn’t a strong moment for me, but I gathered myself, quickly looked around the parking lot to see if anyone saw or heard me, and then proceeded to strut my way to my car since no one was around…(score one for me!)

It was actually a little invigorating. It was a long, rough day at work and I was dragging as I left the building. The little “scare” helped wake me up a bit just in time to struggle through traffic on Golf Road.

So maybe getting scared is an “ok” thing every now and then. It can serve a good purpose…on occasion.

So long as there’s no dolls involved…
Much luv,
Rob
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Song of the Day: "You Got What I Need" by Biz Marky

Oh the weather outside is frightful...

So Hate Week has now come and gone, and today we move forward into the blissful time afterward with…snow?

Aren’t we in mid-April now? (Yes, yes we are.) As I struggled through traffic this morning I couldn’t help but wonder why everyone seemed to forget how to drive in this weather. It wasn’t that long ago when it was like this on a day-in day-out basis. For some reason, however, people in the northwest suburbs of Chicago panicked at the sight of the soft, fluffy, white snow falling from the sky and hit the brakes. Travel times skyrocketed and traffic reporters were gleeful as they had something to talk about again. Oh well, I guess it’s good that someone gets some enjoyment out of the snow.

In other news, the father of Anna-Nicole Smith’s baby was identified…and I’m already tired of hearing about it.

Happy wednesday, peoples!

Much luv,
Rob
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Song of the Day: "Coming to America" by Neil Diamond

What's in the box...

I hope that your Easter weekend found you well. Other than a shot to the gut from the sleep-deprivation fairy, I’d have to say that it went pretty well in my neck of the woods. (How do woods have necks, anyway?)

Day #6 of Hate Week has arrived (it’s almost over…) and today my agitation is centered on…well, not being sure what to write about right now.

Yeah, I think that’ll do.

Much luv,
Rob
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Song of the Day: "Bust A Move" by Young M.C.

Fahrenheit 41...

Day #3 of Hate Week...I hate broken furnaces. We learned last night that the furnace at Primrose was broken. When I awoke in the morning, the thermostat read 41 degrees. Yikes. Fortunately, thanks a little known hero (like Hiro from Heroes or Dwight Schruut from The Office, great episode last night...) named Dave the heat has returned to Primrose and we're almost back up to 60 degrees at this point.

And there was much rejoicing. (Yay!)

In the news of the bizarre, here's a little tidbit from this blog's favorite lunatic, Michael Jackson:

Apparently, Michael (Miss Jackson if you're nasty) would like a giant, 50-foot tall robot replica of himself to be built in the Las Vegas desert to roam about and welcome incoming planes. He's even interested in making the robot capable of shooting laser beams out of its eyes.

...

I'll just let that sink in for a second...

Just when you think he can't get any crazier, here's this idea. Seriously, doesn't this sound like the beginning of a bad sci-fi movie? Eventually the robot gets hit by lightning and goes on a crazy killing spree. Eventually Godzilla shows up and kills the robotic Jackson before returning to rest in the sea.

Crazy...

So it's Good Friday today. Go ahead and get your church on this weekend.

Much luv,
Rob
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Song of the Day: "I Will Call" by Among Thorns

You should familiarize yourself with the elephants first, dude...

Carrying on with day #2 of Hate Week, I'd like to mention that I hate the fact that they've replaced the Mountain Dew in our work vending machine with Diet Barq's Root Beer. What a shame...

Today I'd like to draw your attention to a fellow named Matt. Matt is an ordinary fellow from Australia who loves video games. He even mananged to score a job making video games. After a while, though, he grew tired of this profession and decided he wanted to see the world. In an effort to keep his friends and family attuned to where he was going and what he was doing, he took along a video camera and began recording himself dancing in the various locations around the globe that he was visiting.

What started out as a small, fun project got noticed by Stride, makers of the ridiculously long lasting gum. The people at Stride contacted Matt saying, "We like what you're doing. We want to help you."

Behold!

You can read more about Matt there and see his videos as he dances all over the world, it's really very cool. I defy any of you to not have your spirits lifted as you watch...it's impossible.

Much luv,
Rob
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Song of the Day: "Candy Everybody Wants" by 10,000 Maniacs

And, of course, Hugh Jackman...

National Hate Week…why does such a period of time exist? Is it a time to vent? Are we really supposed to express hate during this week? I mean, just look at the word:

Hate (v.) to dislike intensely or passionately; feel extreme aversion for or extreme hostility toward; detest.

So as I did a little digging into “Hate Week,” I discovered it’s not real at all. It’s from George Orwell’s novel 1984. The general effect behind Hate Week was to rally the people in a way so that they “would unquestionably have torn [captured enemy soldiers] to pieces” if given the opportunity.

Yowsa. Sounds like a ”fun” read.

Anyway, seeing that April 4th-10th is Hate Week on the calendar, I thought I’d spend a little time sharing something that has been the subject of my hate lately:

Bad advertising.

Every time that I see a bad commercial I begin to question whether or not I should have studied advertising and be producing commercials. The idea that someone, actually many people, get paid to come up with, direct, and produce these ads is absurd.

I hate to pick on you, Burger King, but I’m afraid you’ve been slipping lately. While I loved the bizarre commercials featuring that dude in the giant King costume, your newest ad turns my heart more sour than a lemonhead dunked in liquid sorrow. If you don’t know the commercial I am referring to, it’s a recent ad in which a man is taking a bath and says to his wife, “Hey, guess who I am…Spongebob No Pants,” as he stands up from his sudsy bath and is covered in bubbles.

He then just gives her this look as if to say, “Gee…look how clever I am.”

Bad, Burger King, bad! (Whaps BK on the nose with the rolled up newspaper of good taste.)

This commercial just rubs me the wrong way, but I suppose that they say bad publicity is still better than no publicity. Maybe I just don’t get it…

Man, if Orwell only ever really knew what evils the future would hold…

Much luv,
Rob
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Song of the Day: “In the Ghetto” by Elvis Presley

Hail to the king, baby...

Firstly, a gold star for Kent in lieu of bonus points…(There, now no more crying!)

Today marks a wonderful, wonderful moment. No, I’m not referring to the fact that it is the birthday of the man that brought us such film gems as Dr. Doolittle II, The Nutty Professor, and Norbit: Eddie Murphy. (Still, he gave us The Golden Child, so I should cut him some slack.) While it may be “Donkey’s” birthday, that’s not the subject of my current excitement. I’m referring to the fact that today we (finally) finished taking inventory at work. It has been the source of my tiredness lately and the reason I wanted to take some time off from the writing that you little monkeys seem to enjoy for some reason. Anyway, inventory took much, much too long, but nobody, at any point, resorted to cannibalism, so there was much rejoicing. (Yay!)

It’s been a very, very busy few days, but I’ve managed to learn a few things in the process:

1) When working ridiculously long hours, it’s very important to have a good breakfast, and Richard Walkers’ apple pancakes are great.
2) Integrity matters.
3) There’s not a power in the ‘verse that can keep Kaylee from being cheerful. (Ok, so I already knew that one…but it never hurts to be reminded. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, you’re needin’ to get yourself some Firefly.)

But about that integrity…

Last night at youth group, we were looking in chapter 20 of Proverbs and noticed that “integrity” seemed to be a theme throughout the chapter. One verse spoke of a king whose throne was being upheld by “steadfast love and faithfulness.” I think that’s a great vision of integrity right there. Here you have this king, who rules over his people. (It’s good to be the king.) He doesn’t have to be “nice.” He’s the king. Yet when he rules with “steadfast love and faithfulness,” his people respond and “uphold” the throne.

That seems to be a pretty good indication of integrity, no? How you treat people when you don’t need to treat them at all mirrors the attitude of your heart.

So how does your reflection look?

On a completely unrelated note…tomorrow kicks off National Hate Week.

Oh boy…

Much luv,
Rob
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Song of the Day: “Wonderful Life” by Gwen Stefani