LONGWALKABOUT

I’ll let you in on a secret. I know the reason why Boston is having a historically bad winter. It’s all because of the Superbowl.

After 2005, it was decided up above, that the New England Patriots should never win another Superbowl. Thereafter, an angel was assigned to the big game every time the Patriots played in it. You may laugh, but there is evidence. Both times the Giants beat them, it was with the help of a miraculous play. David Tyree’s catch in 2008, and Mario Manningham’s catch in 2012. But it all went bad in 2015.

We’re going to call the angel assigned to the game Mike. Mike was doing his job. It was late in the game and he knew it was time for him to step in. And, boom, Jermaine Kearse makes a miracle catch down the sideline and Seattle gets set up at the goal line. Mike figures he’s helped out enough, and the Seahawks will just run the ball into the endzone. He takes a couple minutes to take care of some other angel business, and comes back. At this point he’s utterly confused. The Patriots had won the game. Then he finds out what happened, and Mike says, “Why would they throw the ball? No one would make that call, I am so tired of people. Man am I gonna be in trouble.” Long story short, to make up for this mistake, Mike was assigned to punish Boston and make sure Patriot fans could not enjoy the Superbowl win.

 LINKS

• Burritos are quite simply the perfect food.  Here is a list of the best places to get burritos in the US.
• It is way too cold outside.  If you’re looking to get away, try my island.
• It is one of my goals this year to get into a sporting event or concert for free.  You may say, “Marc, you’re too old to sneak into events.”  Zip it, I’m not dead yet.  This man is my inspiration, and just a fascinating story in general.
• If you’re into the Oscars, TCM is showing past winners all weekend long.

A year after I married my lovely wife, my family decided to take a trip to Scotland.  It was my wife and I, my parents, my sister and my cousin.  Why Scotland? Because we have some Scottish ancestry. My sister is great at being interested in our family history.  It was her job to do the research and to figure out what clan we were from.  It was my job to be psyched that we came from a clan with a history of being cattle thieves and general trouble-makers

The trip was an educational tour that included another larger group.  The larger group had a leader of their own, and we were all on a bus together.  He was one of those annoying know it all guys who tried to become the leader of the entire group.  The guide would say something like, “When does everyone want to meet for dinner?”  Then the guy would say, “Well, I think that we would all prefer to meet at five, everyone will have the chicken dinner, and then it would be great if you could get us all some chocolate cake.  Everyone loves chocolate cake.  Then the whole group should take a walk so we can see the sunset over the loch. It really is quite spectacular.”  Then, if I was paying attention, I would say, “Wow, that guy is a tool.”

We toured Loch Ness, the Isle of Skye, Glencoe, and Inverness.  We finally made our way to Stirling castle and the battlefield where the Scots, led by William Wallace, defeated the English on September 11^th, 1297.  After touring the medieval castle and having lunch, the guide asked us if we wanted to walk to the top of the William Wallace monument, or continue to Edinburgh.  The leader of the other group said, “I think we all would like to continue on.  Some of us have a train to catch this evening.”  My sister and cousin wanted to climb the tower, though, and my dad was thoroughly tired of this guy.  So, our family took a stand.  My dad informed the guide that we most certainly would like to climb to the top of the monument.  This took the guide by surprise, in fact I think he said that we were the first people he had on a tour that actually wanted to go up the thing.  I really hadn’t been looking forward to climbing the 246 steps, but if we were doing it partially out of spite, I was in.  We got off that bus and took our time exploring the monument.  I’m glad we did.  No one told me Braveheart’s sword was in there, and the view from the top was beautiful.

Remember.   My family will walk miles just to spite you.

My father in law just got his first iPad.  The new ones come with Siri and all the bells and whistles.  The next day, after having a conversation with our oldest child, my wife looked at me and said, “What if Siri answered your questions like a nine year old?”   That was a great question.  It would be something like this.

Me:   Siri, what is today’s date?

Siri:  I want to play Minecraft later, because Nate told me how to open a portal to the Nether.

Me:  That’s great Siri, what restaurants are nearby?

Siri:  In Minecraft, you can spawn a cow, and then kill it and eat it.

Me:   Siri, can you give me directions to the Golden Panda chinese restaurant?

Siri:  Can I do chores, and then you could pay me in gold?  Then we could go to Toys R Us and buy one of the new Minecraft Lego sets.

Me:   Siri.

Silence

Me:   Siri.

Silence

Me:   Siri.

Siri:  Sorry, I was just looking at that squirrel over there.

Me:   Siri, why did I get an email from your teacher today?

Siri:  I have no idea.

 

LINKS

• Happy Friday the 13th.  Here are the origins of all the superstition.
• The website for the Friday the 13th movie series is unintentionally hilarious because it uses words like, SAGA, and, LEGACY.  I’ve only seen several of these, but the one that stands out is part III.  It is really funny, and it includes the most inexplicably racially diverse biker gang that you will ever find in the middle of nowhere.
• Here are some examples of really bad Valentine gifts.
• Bulgarian Communist Party Headquarters is one of the coolest and creepiest abandoned places that you will see.

Now that the most important football game of the season (the Pro Bowl) is over, it is time to reflect upon the season that was, and to hope that your team’s best player doesn’t get arrested during the off season.

I am a pretty big football fan.  I live on the eastern side of the state of Pennsylvania.  My favorite team plays it’s home games some three hundred miles away on the other side of the state.  There was a time, when I would hit up training camp at the end of the summer and at least one home game during the regular season.  It was a simpler time, a time before Stubhub.  A time when airfare back and forth to Pittsburgh was roughly a hundred bucks.

I had a strategy for getting into games, and it never failed.  I would make it to Pittsburgh, and show up early in the parking lot at the stadium, with a sign that said “I need one ticket”.  One time a friend came with me, and we had to adjust the signs a little.  Mine said “Need TWO Tickets”.  His said “Need TWO Women/Tickets”.  Anyway, finding a ticket this way involved a lot of walking.  Sometimes it took an hour, sometimes three.  I would walk up and down the lots trying to attract attention with my cardboard sign.  Eventually I would find a person with an extra, we would negotiate, and I would walk away with a ticket.

You do this kind of thing enough times and you learn lessons that you can pass on.  Here they are.

1. Beware of scalpers.  For a number of reasons you need to avoid these borderline criminals.  Their tickets are way overpriced, might not even be real, and, if they had the chance some of them might actually rob you.  I had this last epiphany one time when I was cornered by a really aggressive scalper in an area where there wouldn’t have been any witnesses.  Of course, I did the brave and manly thing, and got out of there as fast as possible, without looking like a complete wuss.  Behind me, I could still hear him assuring me that I wasn’t going to find a better price.
2. Your gonna have to trust a stranger once in a while. You meet all kinds of people when you do this.  One time I met a guy and his son on the plane out.  When we arrived, they asked me if I needed a ride to my hotel.  Sure, why not.  So, I ended up crammed in the back of their car while the dad and his son, who was in his twenties, told me how they were going to go out and party.  They were like “Man you should come with us.”  I said, “That’s ok, it’s really not my thing, besides, I’m married.”  The son really felt like I was missing out, “Man you gotta come with us, there are gonna be lots of girls.”  I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to be missing anything.  “Yeeeaaah, like I said, I’m married, soooo.”  I would just like to point out that dads who “party” with their sons are weird.  At this point we were on the highway and the dad was driving like a maniac.  I was beginning to wonder if they were actually some kind of bizarre serial killer team.  Your mind can wander when you’re in the back of a rented sports car being driven by someone you really don’t know.  They did get me to my hotel safely.
3. Storing your bag can be a problem.  Thanks to the terrorists, you are not allowed to bring a bag into any stadium anymore.  This was bad for me.  One particular Sunday, I had secured my ticket, (thirteen rows off the field, thank you very much) and then I realized that I had nowhere to stow my backpack.  I wandered around outside the stadium looking for an out of the way place to stash it during the game.  The problem with out of the way places around stadiums is that most of them smell like urine.  I eventually decided to approach a group of guys and ask if I could put my bag in their SUV during the game.  At first they looked at me like I had two heads, but fortunately I don’t look like Al Qaeda.  We struck a deal and it all worked out ok.  Except for the game. Man, that was a gut wrenching overtime loss.
4. Always wear comfortable shoes.  That’s it.  Always.  Whatever you’re doing.

The internet was created so people could make top ten lists of things, and then argue about them.  It’s like sports radio.  Ninety percent of sports radio is making lists and arguing.  The other ten percent is updating you on scores and reporting on players who have been arrested.

I have created a top ten list for this weekend.  Here it is.  In countdown form.

MY TOP TEN FAVORITE MOVIES EVER

10.  The Princess Bride – This movie may have been higher on the list, if it wasn’t for that whole part with Billy Crystal.  But it scores big points for having Andre the Giant in it, and it’s got like a dozen lines that are extremely quotable.

9.    Office Space – I’m still upset that friends of mine moved away and took my copy with them.

8.    Knight and Day – This movie has like 53% on Rotten Tomatoes.  I don’t get it.  I’ve watched it like five times, and it always makes me smile.

7.    It’s a Wonderful Life – I think it might be illegal in some states to not have this on your favorite movie list.

6.    Die Hard – It is now my Christmas Eve tradition to watch this movie while I finish wrapping the presents.  (My wife usually has fallen asleep at this point)

5.    Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure – Every time I hear Keanu Reeves mispronouncing Beethoven and calling Billy the Kid, mr. The Kid, I laugh out loud.

4.    Serendipity – I am a sucker for good romantic comedies.  They don’t seem to make them anymore.  This is John Cusack at his best.  The funniest part of this movie, though, is the music video for the guy playing the panpipes.

3.    Casino Royale – I wasn’t sure if I would like the new Bond.  I’ve always loved the Bond movies.  Connery is great.  Brosnan, not so great.  Bond movies don’t usually have much depth, and that’s fine, but this one stuck with me.

2.    The Secret Life Of Walter Mitty – This is a new addition to my list.  It bumped Ferris Bueller to number 11.  Now that was quite a controversy.

1.    Raiders of the Lost Ark – The best action adventure movie ever made.

LINKS

• Today is the birthday of Ronald Reagan, and Axl Rose, and Babe Ruth, and Bob Marley.  Each name links to a bio.
• Because I am now a part time stay at home dad, here is a list of 25 reasons kids should be left alone with dads.
• And,,,,,, 25 reasons kids should never be left alone with dads.
• Here is an insane video of a guy in a wing suit making the first ever water landing without using a parachute.

I am a surfer.  I like to say that because it sounds really impressive.  In reality, I own a surfboard, and I am really good at paddling around on it.  It turns out that standing up on it takes some practice.  I am still practicing.

When I lived in Virginia, we were about 20 minutes from the beach.  It was easy to drive out and have a good paddling session every once in a while.  I knew several guys who were actual surfers, and I kept bugging them to go with me.  One of those guys was a guy I worked with at a local landscaping company.  He never went surfing with me.  I understood.  He had a lot on his plate.  He was a father of two young kids, he had a paper route that he would run before coming to work at the landscaping job, and he was a serious pothead.  He was also the only one of us licensed to drive the truck that we used during the day.  More than once we were on the highway cruising along at 65 miles an hour and I would see brake lights ahead.  Then I would realize we weren’t slowing down. It would go something like.

“Brakes”

“BRAKES”

“BRODY,  BRAAAAKES!!!!”

Then he would wake up and hit the brakes and say, “sorry man”.

The other guy worked for UPS, and when you picture a surfer, he was totally that guy.  He did go surfing with me once.  While we were paddling around I asked him if he ever saw sharks when he was on the water.  He said, “I don’t really see them, but they hit my legs once in a while.  No big deal.”

Most of the time, I would end up going out by myself.  My favorite place to go was a beach called Sandbridge.  It was south of the main tourist beaches in Virginia beach, not too far from North Carolina.  It was never crowded down there.  In fact, it was downright lonely sometimes.  Once, I was the only person in the water.  It was late afternoon and the weather was good.  The only other person I could see was a guy fishing off a pier about two hundred yards away.   I had been paddling around for about an hour.  The waves were kind of mushy, but it was nice to be out there.  When a you talk to a surfer and they start to yammer on,,,,, “you know it’s like, when your’e out on the water, you just, like, forget about your problems, and, it’s like, spiritual man, you feel the energy of the ocean and the wave breaks over you like kpshoooooooow  crssshhhhhhhh….”, yeah, well they’re mostly right about all of that. Everyone should try it once.  Anyway, I was about to call it a day.  The current had dragged me down the beach about a hundred yards, so I started to paddle back down toward the pier.  There I was minding my own business, and I looked back over my shoulder, and I saw a fin moving though the water.   Pure panic.  I didn’t yell, I just started to paddle like I was about to die.  I read a book about the surfing once.  In it, they reminded you that the further from the beach you went, the further down the food chain you dropped.  I was about 150 yards from the beach.  It might as well have been a mile.  Adrenaline had been dumped into my system and my arms were moving like Scooby and Shaggy’s legs.  I looked back and couldn’t locate the fin.  I looked toward the beach and it looked like I had not moved in the water at all.  So, I did what any sensible person would do.  I gave up and decided that I was probably going to be eaten.  I couldn’t keep on paddling like this, so I stopped and looked around, trying to figure out which direction the attack would come from and which limb I was going to lose first.  Then I saw the fin again.  The dolphin had passed behind me and was already moving away.  Yeah,,,, the dolphin.  I’m sure he enjoys telling this story to all his dolphin friends.  “Man you should’ve seen that guy paddle”.

This week I would like thank two different people for being heroes to me.  (It would be three if I included Crocodile Dundee.)

The school that my kids go to puts on a fantastic Christmas program every year.  This year a group of kids from the lower grades performed a song that included a routine where they all pretended to be wearing hats that they took off in unison to gesture to the audience.  They all moved together really well.  Almost.   There was one kid in that group of around fifty who did the exact opposite of what everyone else was doing,,,,,, for the entire song.  That wasn’t the thing that made it awesome though.  What made me smile was the look on his face.  He was rocking that performance.  100%.  You could tell that in his head he was like.  “I am totally nailing this.  Hey, I can see mom, dad, and grandma.  Check me out guys, I’ve got this choreography down.  That’s right.  What’s Up.”  I’m not making fun of him.  He’s my hero because I’m pretty sure that’s me most of the time.

My second hero of the week is totally different.  I am a big fan of the band P.O.D.  They are a hard rock/reggae/punk/christian band from San Diego California.  Admittedly, they are not everyone’s cup of tea, but they put on a fantastic live show.  Every time they tour in my area, I try to get out to see them.  The last time was at the Theater of the Living Arts, on South Street in Philadelphia.  The TLA is a small venue with no seats, so things get rowdy and fun on the floor in front of the stage.  This particular night, the crowd was fantastic.  People were crowd surfing all over the place and everyone was feeling the energy.  At one point in the show, a guy who appeared to be in his fifties rode the hands of the crowd to the front where security caught him, but instead of being sent around and back into audience, one of the band members pulled him up onto the stage.  Now this guy is the oldest guy at the show, by far, and not only is he crowd surfing, but now he’s on stage dancing exactly like you would think a white guy in his fifties would dance.  I admire people who can truly dance like no one is watching.  Every time I “dance” I feel like everyone is watching.  Not only do I feel like everyone is watching, I feel like they are pointing and whispering and laughing and recording me so they can put me on Youtube where the ‘white guy dancing badly’ video will go viral overnight. Then when I go grocery shopping the next day, people will be pointing and whispering and laughing all over again.  Anyway, this guy was dancing around on the stage,,,,,, and the next thing you know, he takes off at a run and Supermans back into the crowd.  It was awesome.  He’s my hero because I’m pretty sure that’s who I want to be when I grow up.

 

LINKS

• If you don’t want to watch the Superbowl this weekend, here is a list of the 50 best movie thrillers of all time.  This is from a guys perspective, but it’s pretty well rounded list.
• Everyone seems to love the Superbowl commercials.  They can be fun, but they’re even more fun when they’re bad.  Here is the New York Post list of the Ten Worst.
• Today is the anniversary of the first attempted assassination of a US president.  It’s an interesting story.  Especially the part where President Andrew Jackson beats his own would be assassin with a cane.
• Looking for something more profound than any of this?  Here is a top 50 list of C.S. Lewis quotes.

While I was in college, I had a yearly tradition of going whitewater rafting in West Virginia.  Usually I was able to rope a friend or two into going with me.  We would drive down, camp out for the night, and have breakfast at the Western Pancake House the next morning on the way to the rafting company.

One year I was only able to get one friend to come with me.  I think a third guy may have bailed on us, but anyway, it ended up being just the two of us.  We camped at Babcock State Park.  It was October, great camping weather, but the park wasn’t crowded.  We set up a tent, had some dinner and went down to the park office to use the pay phone to call our girlfriends.  That’s right, a pay phone.  It was after dark, and the park office was closed.  I called my girlfriend and let her know where we were, and talked until my change ran out.  Yes, change, that’s how a pay phone worked.  Then my buddy called his girlfriend while I leaned on the fence by the parking area.

This is when the night got weird.  While I was waiting for my buddy, a car pulled up close to me.  Both the passenger and driver’s side doors opened, and out came two guys straight from central casting for your average ‘you’re gonna be killed by backwoods inbreds’ horror movie.  My friend noticed the car too, and he noticed me giving him the ‘I don’t know, but I think we may be in trouble here’ look.  The driver of the car walked toward us as my friend got off the phone.  I have to describe this guy.  I don’t care if you believe me or not, but this is completely true.  He was around five feet five inches tall, had longish brown hair and a beard, was about fifty pounds overweight, and wore jean overalls and a trucker cap.  His buddy was taller and skinnier and for the next five minutes or so all he did was stand next to the car.  The big guy was the conversationalist, and what a conversation it was.  For purposes of my own enjoyment we’ll call him Cletus.

Cletus:  “You guys have any drugs?”

Me:  “Nah man.”

My Friend:  With an amazed look on his face.  “You can get drugs out here?’

Cletus:  “Oh, yeah man no problem.”

My Friend:  “What kind of drugs?”

Cletus:  “Oh, pretty much anything, meth, coke, blah, blah, more drugs,,,,”

Me:  Smiling because even though I’m a little nervous, this is super entertaining.  “Wow.”

My Friend:  “What are you guys doing out here?”

Cletus:  “Just riding around, looking for something to do.”

At this point the guy looked up and howled at the moon.  No lie, he howled at the moon.  There may have been more of a conversation after that, but I don’t remember.  All I know is that they both eventually got back into their car and left.  We walked back to our campsite, amazed at what had just happened and half worried that they would come back.  The next day we rafted the Gauley river, an experience I highly recommend.  And remember, apparently you can get all kinds of drugs in the country too.   ; )

You know what’s awful? When someone comes up to you and says hi, and enters into a conversation with you like you were old pals,,,,,,,, and you have no idea who they are. This has happened to me more than one time. So, I’m stuck trying to decide if there is something wrong with me for not remembering this person, or if this person just believes that they are way more memorable than they actually are. Usually, if the conversation doesn’t last too long, I can fake my way through, hoping to find a way to make an early exit. But, if we get to a certain point, I know I’m going to get the question, “You don’t remember me, do you?” And you thought the conversation was awkward before.

Also. This has been a long week for a member of our immediate family.  Mr. Copper Dog has had a rough week. In fact he may need surgery. Apparently, being somewhere around 30 years old in dog years doesn’t mean that you are smart enough not to eat something that may be too large to come out your other end. After much throwing up, much worry, and much money, the vet chose to admit him to the hospital (and charge much more money). Copper has asked everyone to send Milk Bone get well wishes to North Penn Animal Hospital.

I ask everyone to hope that next time we see the Six Million Dollar Dog, he will be prepared to live for many more dog years.

LINKS

• One of my new favorite authors is Taylor Stevens.  She has written a series of thrillers.  The Informationist is my favorite.  If you go to her site, check out her bio.  Pretty interesting.
• I love live music.  Here is the best place to find out who is coming to your neck of the woods, no matter how obscure they may be.
• I have two boys.  As they grow, I am trying to turn them into collectors of experiences, and not things.  Here is an interesting list of 100 Places To Take Your Kids Before They Grow Up.  (This particular list is limited to America)
• This site just has consistently cool stuff.

One of my college majors was Parks and Recreation.  I figured that forest ranger was a job that was right down my alley.  I enjoyed spending time outdoors and that ranger hat would probably look pretty good on me.  I did an internet search to figure out which universities offered this kind of program, and the closest one that popped up was Frostburg State University, in western Maryland.  They had a Parks and Rec major, with an adventure sports emphasis.  Whaaaaaattt!  I was so there.  So, I got the necessary paperwork done, packed up my 1988 Honda Accord, and headed to Frostburg.

All throughout my illustrious college career, I had to work to help pay my way.  Jobs in western Maryland and Pennsylvania were hard to come by at this time.  I inquired around to a bunch of places and kept coming up empty.  I even tried the Bath and Body Works at the local mall, but that was mostly because it smelled so good in there.  Having spent time in New Jersey growing up, I was familiar with hanging out at the mall.  So I ended up spending a lot of time there.  My class schedule had breaks in the middle of the day, so at one point I think I had seen every movie that the small theater had to offer.  Yep, it was me and the retired old ladies watching Drew Barrymore in Everafter at 2 in the afternoon on Tuesday.  Anyway, my job prospects had narrowed to fast food.  I was running out of cash.

The people I was staying with knew that I had been looking for work.  One night at dinner, they had an offer for me.  They owned a sawmill, and they needed someone to sweep up after the mill closed down every night.  I jumped on it because I really couldn’t picture myself asking anyone if they wanted fries with anything.  The next week they brought me in for orientation, which involved explaining how the various machines in the mill could all kill me in different ways if I wasn’t careful.  My job at the mill was to clean up the sawdust and wood scraps so that the next day they could create more sawdust and wood scraps.  I would come in just before closing and start sweeping.  About a half hour after I started, everyone else would leave.  So then I was alone in the mill.  Once I was sure that everyone was gone, I would walk out through the yard and move my car down from the main lot to right outside the door of the mill.  Sweeping up in the mill after dark was one thing, but walking through the yard in the dark was something entirely different.  I’ve watched enough movies to know that deranged killers would just love a lumber yard.  The main mill building was L shaped,  the biggest part of it being about the size of a football field.  Each night I would start in the upper part of the main building, where I would sweep all the debris off of the platforms into a trough that ran the length of the floor.

Being alone in the mill was creepy.  The railroad tracks weren’t far, and I just knew that I was going to get killed by a hobo.  It would probably be a hobo with a wooden leg, and he’d kill me with saw, or an axe, or a splitting maul, or some other lumber related tool.  He would be angry about losing his leg in a mill accident and there would be a tense chase through out the mill.  One of those chases where even though I was running, the dude with the peg leg was always right behind me.  It took about two to three hours to sweep the whole mill and shovel everything into the trough, all while looking over my shoulder every five seconds.  When I finished, I had to turn on the industrial strength chipper/blower.  The whole trough would vibrate to move the sawdust into that and it would get blown out through a big opening in the wall and onto a huge pile outside the mill.  This process was super loud, so it would have been a perfect time for the peg legged hobo with a saw to attack.  I obviously had to be ready for this attack, so I usually took up a defensive position with something I could use to fend off the maniac that I was sure was probably waiting for this exact moment.  Every time I completed this process and turned off the machine, I silently congratulated myself.  He saw that I was ready for him, and decided that I would mess him up with that push broom.

The absolute worst part of each night was going into the electrical room and turning off the lights, and then running through the darkened building to the main door and my car.  Then I would do it all over again the next night.  My vigilance paid off, and the maniac never attacked, because he could tell that I was always ready of course.  Unfortunately, after a semester in Frostburg, I could no longer afford to stay there, so I moved on.  I just hope that the next guy who cleaned the mill was as careful as me.