If you're new to thestateofpate.com or just have some time to kill....here are my best posts of 2009.
February: I heart heels
I’m a Carolina fan. The parents of the kid Janelle watches during the week are Duke fans. On the day of the rivalry game, I send them a message via their daughter.
May: Holy Crap (video)
My son shows his knack for impeccable timing with this outburst of an “ugly word” in front of my family.
June: Beat It
Why MJ’s “Beat It” was the most disappointing music video…..ever
June: Airport Security
Why I think they hold job fairs for airport security outside of GED centers and prisons.
There are unspoken rules to riding elevators…..until now.
I decide to eat only with chopsticks until I master it…..yeah, not really well thought out.
My sudden realization that the words “do you want whip cream on that” is a trick question.
October: Futile Conversations @ Work (a series) 1, 2, & 3
My series on ridiculous conversations I’m forced to participate in at work
One of the fringe benefits of volunteering with the high school group at my church is that they routinely do fun stuff. Scavenger hunts, Tacky Proms, foosball tournaments, and paint ball are just a few things I get to put on my calendar….and subsequently get to use the excuse with my wife, “Hey, I’m just doing it for the kids….they’re our future you know.”
The latest escapade was kickball.
And it was Christmas-themed…..so everyone was encouraged to come dressed up something “Christmassy” (like a reindeer or a Christmas tree).
I however procrastinated too long to come up with anything elaborate so I created something in a pinch. An editorial cartoon style drawing that was artsy and provocative to put on a t-shirt. I imagined that the kids would all be wowed by my cultural critique and pithiness.
This was my rendering of how Gloria Estefan is single-handedly trying to ruin Christmas with her music.
For proper context, you should know that my wife, Janelle, goes on a musical diet exclusively made up of Christmas themed ditties starting in what seems to be July in most years. There have obviously been some bad Christmas albums….but in my opinion, Gloria’s (or as I call her “Grenchia Estefan”) is by far the worst.
Apparently what I forgot to consider is that if you under ohhhhhh 32, the Gloria Estefan reference that the whole drawing is hinged upon…….is lost. Guess who are all under 32?
That’s right, everyone else playing kickball.
Sometimes after getting the ubiquitous reply of, “Who’s Gloria Estefan?”, I would snidely retort with “It’s artsy”…….or desperately say, “Come on, you remember……the rhythm is going to get ya.”
Bueller……Bueller……(oh wait, there’s another out-dated cultural reference)
Next time I’m going as the Salvation Army guy……..where I will constantly ring a bell until they all give me money.
I stumbled onto onesentence.org a couple months ago. Basically the concept is self-explanatory: tell a (true) story in just one sentence. The premise is that one sentence is enough space to be intriguing yet leave enough mystery to want to know the rest of the story.
I’ve submitted a few....but none of them have ever made the cut and been published so far......so I thought I would share them here:
It didn’t take me long to realize that the “life with no regrets” is a myth; instead unfortunately I would have to choose the regrets I can live with.
The upperclassmen initially didn’t believe that they had dubiously eaten the donuts that we had wedged in between our bare butt cheeks just moments before, until we showed them the pictures to prove it.
As she sat there alone, still in her wedding dress, and crying in her beer; I think we both realized that it probably won’t work out for her.
After having to make an impromptu squat in the woods and subsequently forced to use leaves as makeshift toilet paper; I suddenly realized that I should have committed to memory what poison ivy looks like to avoid a potentially catastrophic mistake.
Turns out it’s not a good idea to catch a six foot alligator with a fishing pole, marshmallows, and Irwin-like moves; so that you can put it into your apartment tub in hopes of keeping it as a pet for the night.
Related Post
I’ve been dabbling with a couple of short-form writing projects lately. It started with Twitter, where you are limited to 140 characters per “tweet.” I found the practice of writing things more concisely, while maintaining clarity, a useful discipline. Let’s face it; most of us use way too many words to say very little.
Here is an excerpt of an article describing it:
Once asked to write a full story in six words, legend has it that novelist Ernest Hemingway responded: "For Sale: baby shoes, never worn."
In this spirit of simple yet profound brevity, the online magazine Smith asked readers to write the story of their own lives in a single sentence. The result is Not Quite What I Was Planning, a collection of six-word memoirs by famous and not-so-famous writers, artists and musicians. Their stories are sometimes sad, often funny — and always concise.
The book is full of well-known names:
writer Dave Eggers (Fifteen years since last professional haircut)
singer Aimee Mann (Couldn't cope so I wrote songs)
comedian Stephen Colbert (Well, I thought it was funny)
Here is my first attempt at my own six word memoir:
Ironically uncomfortable with a comfortable life
See more six word memiors here
Related Post:
Most mornings I go to the food court at work to get a little pick-me-up (diet soda.....don’t judge me). And every morning I bear witness to a thing so utterly befuddling and vexing.....that I must speak up......so I sent the management the following email:
Good afternoon,
I pass through the food court most mornings around 9:30 or 10 am.....and have made an observation I would like to give some feedback on. You see, most mornings when I’m in the food court there is a guy mopping the floor, cordoning off half of it at a time....all while the breakfast rush is still steady. It’s maddening I tell you! Maddening!
It’s not that I don’t appreciate your attention to a spotless floor.....it would make Mr. Clean himself proud and give you his infamous wink of approval.....but do you have to do it at 9:30? Really......9:30?
It’s just that I spend most of my time in the mornings navigating around the 20 yellow “wet floor” signs like I’m practicing to be a stunt driver for the sequel of “The Italian Job.” Of course, I think it goes without saying that I would be the character played by Mark Walberg based on physical likeness...but I digress.
It’s not that I’m saying, “don’t mop the floors”, I just think there might be a more rational time to do this inconvenient chore......oh, how about in that weird Bermuda Triangle of time space between 10:30 (when breakfast ends) and 11:30 (the earliest time any sane person would eat lunch).
I’ll make you a deal, if the mop guy can wait until after 10:30, he can mop the floor so vicariously that the employees can have a nice rousing game of “slip-and-slide” and it would take a reincarnation of Moses himself to part the waters so that a customer could get to the Sbarro. You can even let Moses borrow the mop for a makeshift staff....but make sure you don’t let him drop it, because it may turn into a snake....and that’s a whole other bag of trouble.....but I digress.
Sincerely,
Rangi
Related Posts:
