Hungers I Have Known

Comments om comments

Blogaudience,  I have not figured out how to add comments  to my own posts in order to respond to your recent comments, therefore, I will do so by a new post.  I am sure this approach violates some kind of universal blog protocol but, I really don't care.

Rainbow Flyer:   

I knew if I used some Latin medical terminology I could draw you away from your doctorly duties for a little while.  It worked.  Maybe you can submit my last blog on the bicycle seat problem to your sports injury class for some extra credit.  By the way, the next time you don't finish your homework in that comparative religion class, just tell the professor that your dogma got run over by your karma.

Flodown:

Thanks for the props and the comparisons to the great Dave Chapelle.  Most people don't know that you were a philosophy major in college.  Never forget that the sign over the  tuxedo rental shop owned by the two Greek philosophers,    Euripides and Eumenides.

Dirty Di:

Fluffy covers on bicycle seats?  Come On.  You have been looking at too many of the bathrooms on  those parade of homes tours in Garland.  I don't care if you are out in the middle of the wilderness carreening around on folding bikes.  If one of those Colorado survivalists caught you riding around the Rockies on a fluffy covered bicycle seat, you would be history.  On anopther subject, "Harvey" was great.

Nod Suave:

I did not catch the full impact of your Llance Armstrong reference until the second reading, then I about fell off my chair.  After sufficient time has passed I am sure I will honor you by stealing that line.  Remember, to steal a great line from one person is plagiary, but to steal from many is research.

Doogie:

I am going to have to introduce you to Dirty Di.  I am sure she can get you a good price on a fluffy cover for your banana seat. Banana seats weren't around in my day, but I can tell you this .  The only way they would improve the comfort quotient would to give them a 90 degree turn before trying to sit on them while riding a bike.  A banana seat has all of the same problems as every DUNLAP model bike seat in existence....The problem is that your buns done lapped over the sides of the seat.

Keep those comments coming,  I am still waiting for some ABBA answers.

Miscellaneous

ABBA Dabbba Do

Is Interstate 35 between Austin and Dallas the worst highway driving experience known to man?  I mean, if it weren't for a stop at the Mile 353 marker for some kolaches I don't know if the drive could be completed with any sense of well being.  Is it just me, or does this highway induce dozing off more than any interstate in America?  I realize there are a lot of wacky tobacky remnants in the air compliments of Willy near Carl's Corner and Abbot, but that can't be the only reason. Anyway, as promised, the first item of the day will be a discussion of Abba and Townes Van Zandt.  I rediscovered ABBAafter purchasing a CD of their greatest hits at one of those stops on I-35.  I later realized the appropriateness of that purchase as I found the exact same album on a cassette I bought about 20 years ago.  ABBA was/were great.  I totally underappreciated them when they were current. but what is it withe the two guys?  I don't pick up any positive contribution from them on any of the cuts.  My favorite song is Fernando, and that's where I need your help.  It's obviously a song about Mexicans and gunfire and a battle and an escape across the Rio Grande.  My questions are these.

1.  In the song, is a girl singing to a guy, or is it a guy singing to his old friend, Fernando?.

2.  Does the battle being sung about occur during the Mexican/American War?  Tough question because I don't think Mexico ever crossed the Rio Grande for a battle in that war.

3.  Is Fernando a hero or a deserter?  In other words, did he cross the Rio grande to avoid a battle?

4.  Is it not about the Mexican/Amarecan war at all?  Is it really Townes Van Zandt channelling his great Pancho and Lefty song to ABBBA, which would make Fernando-Pancho/Lefty?

5.  Is it about something else entirely

6.  Has anyone seen the play Mama Mia?  How was it?

Someone out there has got to help me out on this one because my usual primary source of useless information, The Big Hurt, is otherwise engaged this week.  Shout out to the Big Hurt.  That was a great wedding and what a nice family Shannon is bringing to the table in this match.

Moses should have stopped at a Waffle House

For those of you lfortunate enough to be able to dine at a Waffle House, please check out the "Waffle House Rules" posted on the door as you enter.  Only the great WH (ok maybe the Soup Nazi too) would have the cajones to set such unambiguous laws for their customers.  If Moses could have been as clear with his tablets, the world would have a lot more peace and a lot less lawyers.

Form should always follow function

Consider the bicycle.  What a beautiful piece of machinery...So simple in design and so effecient in use,it is probably the most perfect  invention ever created except for one hideous and yet eternally perpetuated flaw. 

First the perfection, Notice how the handle bars are perfectly designed both as to distance from the shoulders matching the length of the arms as well  circumfirence,  The circumfirence is in complete simpatico with the length of the fingers. Now, consider the pedals/the chain and the wheel relationship.  perfection... it's like the Almighty himself first designed the bike and then adjusted his plans for homo sapiens so that the two inventions would be in optimal allignment.  So simple, so perfect except for the bicycle seat.  The size of the bicycle seat has no relation at all to the size of  the ass of even the most fit human being.  A normal bicycle seat is about six inches byfive inches at its widest point.  Now take a look at your gluteous maximus.  Does it look in any way like any bike seat was designed to handle any ass you have had the pleasure of knowing?  How can every other part of this marvelous invention, the bicycle be so in tune with pertinent parts of the human user and the bicycle seat be so out of synch?   And in this creative society which we live in, how could this go on for so many centuries without correction?  If the same logic was followed in auto design the seats would only be six inches deep, not 20. Forget the Segway or the next great video game.  I challenge a budding genius among my blogaudience to design a "size proportional bicycle seat" and don't worry about it being too big.  I predict that such an invention would at least triple the number of bicycles sold and used in the world.  Physical fitness would rise.  Gas consuming vehicles would decline.  ( Danny, maybe I just discovered the answer to my own  question)Nevertheless, this idea has billionaire written all over it .

Now i want some response on this subject. not just the quick one liners so common in the comments I receive.  Sneaky Pete, you and damen are my bike advisory board.  What am I missing?.  Cully, let's ressurect your first San Fran concept.  I am BEHIND you all the way. that is all.

the   

The Commish Is Back

To paraphrase Mark Twain, "Rumors regarding my disappearance have been greatly exaggerated."  the last month has been one long road trip and I like it that way.  First there was Yosanity, then Labor Day in Austin and then Longhorns/Buckeyes in Austin and if I am able to complete this post in something less than an hour, it will be off to Austin again to take part in the Big Hurt/Shannon wedding festivities.  Well, here goes.  First Yosanity, a term coined by Johnny Quinn to combine the Yosemite/ San Francisco trip into one concept and oh what a concept.  It was great.  The tee shirt should read "YOSANITY FOR Yo sanity".  Yosemite was awe inspiring.  The sights and wonders have caused me to go a little bit philosophic.  First of all Yosemite reinfoced my long held belief that perception is truly reality and that wonder is all about marketing.  Consider the giant Sequoias.  They are 300 feet tall, 2000 years old, immune to both devastating forest fires as well as 100 year droughts and yet the tree huggers on the left coast post signs warning you not to walk too close to them or else you might damage their fragile root system.  How about a break?  The trees were marvelous but when you think about it, there is nothing going on with these natural wonders that is not going on in every weed or blade of grass.  It's all the same, but contrary to some opinions, when it comes to stardom, size does matter.  Next, consider the cute forest squirrel.  Please, a squirrel is just another rodent with good pr.  and that pr is its fluffy tale.  If you saw the same sqirrel scampering across your yard with that ugly tail of his cousin rodent, you would call him a rat and the next call would be to the exterminator.  If you get the chance to go to Yosemite, look up Park Ranger Shelton Johnson for the best nature talk around, steeped in Chaucer and Shakespeare.  If you cannot find Shelton (He will be the on wearing the Michigan sweatshirt compliments of the Commish during his off hours), head for the Bridal Veil Falls campground wher Billy Crystal will be talking shit and how to use that knowledge to determine precisely what species of bear is mauling you to death.

Then it was on to San Francisco, where we celebrated Timdog's birthday with a sharp group of young folk.  We stayed at a great Bed and Breakfast run by Andy and Erin Chun.  The bed was at Greenwich and Larkin and the breakfast was at Vallejo and Polk.  The Chuns were fabulous hosts.  They evicted Tony D so we could stay in their new house on the hill.  Tony is in the middle of a kitchen remodel that will put those home makeover shows to shame.  I highly recommend visiting the Chuns when you are in the city by the Bay.  If you haven't got time to stay over night , just drop in for a shower, because they have got one of those YUGO AK-4700 shower heads that has to be experienced to be described.  Many thanks to Andy and Erin.  Erin is Irish and I. would now like to repeat the poem I honored her with on her wedding day.  Wanta hear it?

You're Irish and you're beautiful, and you're beautiful cause you're Irish, and if it would improve the lovetale I tell, I'd wear a shamrock in my lapel.

You're Irish and you're loveable and does Chun love you?, that he do

It's a thrill to repeat ...you're wholesome and sweet...and Irish and beautiful too 

Tim had just returned home from a big party with Mad Dog and his family in Nantucket.  Tim had planned to fly out on the day they implemented the no- liquid rule at airports This caused him a problem because he had a beer in his hand when he tried to get throught airport security.  I wrote a poem about that experience. Wanta hear it?

Tim was a lad bound for Nantucket

By plane, but decided to truck it

He's really no whiner

But when TSA took his Shiner

He said just take your airplane and **** **

Sorry, I got writer's block and couldn't think of an ending. 

Just a few words about Tim's party.  Tim, do you know any girls that are not knock down gorgeous as well as being brilliant.  J Lo has nothing on JClo when it comes to good looks and business smarts.  Then there was Jackie O who hate her knickname And the A-Train who loves hers.

I met Rosie, the Queen of Corona , (from Plano of all places) although I only saw her sipping on mixed drinks that night.  I just had to have a talk with Ba about that encounter, but Austin at Salt Lick just didn't seem the right time two weeks later.  I haven't the time or space to tell you more about Tim's party and all the beautiful people in attendance.  I'll summarize this way.  When I left the party, the average Hottie quotient both inside and outside the bar increased dramatically.

I am running out of time and I don't want to be late for the pre-nuotial bowling party in Austin.  It's going to be a grat event and I am so happy for Chris S and Shannon.  The only unfortunate part is that their wedding blog will probably be coming to an end and I will miss that.  Folks, I guess you will just have to wait to hear more about the trip, Texas/ Ohio State and various and sundry.  Coming up I will be asking for your help in tracking down the Townes Van Zandt/ ABBA connection and other mysteries that have baffled the world until now.  The Commish is back

 

Meridith and me...it was never meant to be

The "Who Wants To Be A Millionaire" show was holding auditions in Fort Worth yesterday at  the beautiful Bass Performance Hall and the Commish was there to compete for my dream of being on a big bucks game show, and satisfying one of the hungers I have known.  I was on the road at 7:00 a.m. in order to get there in time to be at the front of the line.  That bad guess should have been a sign of the failure and disappointment to come.  People started lining up at 3:00a.m. and at 9:00 a.m. the line was all the way around the block and starting to double up again.  This was in addition to the contestants already admitted to the Hall.  It looked like an American Idol audition sans hotties.  You've heard of the movie "Revenge Of the Nerds", well this picture could have been entitiled "Revenge On the Nerds".  What a collection and that includes yours truly.  First I looked at the line , then I looked ast the weather report which promised the hottest day of the year with temps reaching 105.  I quickly determined that the only ones who were going to make a milliom dolars that day were the owners of the parking lotsand the sellers of  water for $2.00 a bottle.  A call to Mama Sants convinced me to stick it out for a while, so I took up residence in an air conditioned Barnes and Noble coffee shop directly across from the front door of Bass Hall, purchased a newspaper and an oreo cheesecake surprise and spent the next two hours comfortably perusing the newspaper  and the idiots in the hot sun across the street.  After about two hours of viewing little movement in the line,  one of the giant guardian angels above the entrance to the Hall must have whispered in the show producer's ear that maybe he should try to warehouse these pitiful humans inside the Hall instead of watching them expire from heat exhaustion in the streets.  As a result,  large groups started to be admitted into the building.  Enter the return of the Slimish.  Without making eye contact with anyone I merged into the front of the line and gained entry about 3 hours earlier than if I had done the honorable thing and started at the back of the line.  What I saw amazed me.  Let me describe just a few of the fellow contestants that I observed over the next three hours before we actually were administered the TEST.

There were people that came prepared for a long stay.  I'm not talking about just books, newspapers and magazines...I'm talking guitars, full suitcases, and reference books out the Kazoo.  One lady was studying an Atlas for the entire 3 hours, others had movie almanacs.  The ones I really couldn't understand were those that brought their young children with them to endure a minimum seven hour wait so that the parents could take a ten minute test that they had a 90% plus chance of failing.  These families may never make the Millionaire show, however, I look forward to their appearance on Dr. Phil in about ten years   I loved the occupational hookie players,  I eavesdropped on one cell phone conversation in which this guy was telling his boss that he hadn't made it to his scheduled first sales call of the day because something had "come up".  This guy was one of my favorites, because he actually brought his own chair with him, which he moved every time the line moved.  One guy has caused me to codify a new Commish's Rule.  Here it is.  "Overweight guys in their 50's with mullets shall not be allowed to purchase or wear Vince Young #10 jersey."  I am all for hero worship but  there have to be limits.  Let's make it easy.  Overweight guys can only wear jerseys with numbers in the 70's.   Next Commish Rule:  "Thou shalt not ruin classic visual images embedded in the minds of men of all ages, no matter how uncomfortable a day spent in 105 degree heat makes you".  This one needs some backstory.  Our culture has a few universal iconic images from the movies that deserve respect.  Bo Derek running on the beach in "10" or that James Dean slumped over sneer from "Rebel Without A Cause", but the most famous and endearing of all may be that of Marilyn Monroe in the "Seven Year Itch" standing over that subway grate in New York city so that the rushing air from a passing train could cool her off and at the same time totally but ever so innocently blow her dress up above her thighs.  Now this exposure could not have been considered  obscene even in the 50's, but it was and remains one of the sexiest images in our culture.  Fast forward to Fort Worth yesterday.  A matronly looking middleager in an ankle length skirt, in order to cool herself offinside the hall, found an oasis over a floor vent.  Her skirt started to billow ever so slightly...thankfully.  The Marilyn flashback immediately came to mind, but was quickly folliowed by another iconic image from my youth...The parachute ride at Six Flags. I was just glad that we didn't experience an electrical surge that might have increased the billowing effect.  In any event my Marilyn image has been forever violated by the parachute lady...I'm just glad her hair wasn't in corn rows.   

Well, the rest is anticlimactic.  At about 3:00p.m. our group of 200 was finally escorted into the testing area.  First we had to fill out a questionnaire that would be the basis for an audition interview in the event we achieved a qualifying score on the ten minute multiple choice trivia contest.  I was confident that I aced the interview questions.  I described Screenball, I mentioned the Blog,  I included my most embarasing moment...the famous Make A Face story that I will one day recount for the blogaudience.  My best entry was my answer to the question, " Is there anything about you that other people might find annoying?  My answer was, "It might be my tendency to procrastinate, but I'll have to get back to you later with my final answer".  That was my ticket to the seat right across from Meredith in prime time.  The competition in the test room looked formidable, but I started to feel more confident as the responses to the traditional "Are there any questions? question was given.  Here are two samples.  "If I get selected to appear on the show in New York, will it be allright if I stay in New Jersey with some friends?"  My answer would have been "It's ok but Donald trump was so looking forward to hosting your stay at the Towers"  Then there was a question from a guy who had just stood in line for seven hours to take a ten minute test that he had little chance of passing in order to get a 1 in 100 chance of being selected for the show.  He was very concerned about how long the taping of his appearance om WWTBAM would take once he had made it to the promised land in NYC.  The best question of all was after we completed the 10 minute Scantron test from a 30 question sheet with the first 15 questions on one side of the sheet and questions 16 through 30 on the other side of the sheet.  It seems that when this guy opened his envelope containing the test, the side beginning with question #16 was facing him and he proceeded to put his answer to #16 in box #1 on the Scantron and so on and so on.  There was a slight laugh that went through the crowd on that one, but I suddenly realized what was probably the reason for my less than stellar performance on the SAT's back in 1965.

End of story...I felt really good about my answers.  I only had to guess on about four of them (I even knew why Flamingos are pink, do you?)but I must have gone 0 for 4 on those guesses because I wasn' t chosen for the killer interview I was ready to give.  In frustration when they started throwing out tee shirts to us losers, I shamelessly knocked the parachute lady down and got mine...just kidding.  What did mama Sants have to say about all of this?  "My husband went to the Millionaire tryouts, and all I got was this lousy tee shirt." 

Sun of a Beach

Well, it's been a quiet week in Lake Woebegone as i still bask in the memory of my favorite Sun of a Beach in the continental U.S..  Mama Sants and I recently returned from the Emerald Coast, more specifically, Destin, Florida.  Now I agree it's too built up, the traffic is ridiculous and I am sure that there are other spots along the Florida panhandle or elsewhere that provide all of the great attributes of this heavenly spot without the hassles, but this inquiring mind needs to know where they are and what makes them so great..  This eclectic blogaudience of mine has been everywhere and so the call is going out.  What do you consider the best beach vacation in the world?  Some of you have dipped your toes in the Med, and others who have only experienced Lake Erie, have later had to dip the meds in their toes.  I know some of you can tell us about the best spots in Hawaii and whyii (get it, get it?).  Others like Jimmy the C will probably vote for the Outer Banks even though you might have to rob one of the inner banks in order ot afford one of those beach houses for a week.  Let's hear from the New York crew all about the wonders of Jones Beach and having the distinct opportunity of running into Jimmy Hoffa in the surf off of Coney island or at least some of his remains.  Patty and Rey will no doubt vote for Virginia Beach as they get lost in let's remember, and of course there is Myrtle Beach for the Sacco clan.  For just plain all out beauty, the San Francisco crowd hopefully will enlighten us about the wonderful times they have known at North beach and the full moons over Half Moon Bay.  I can hear Diane da V yelling, "Hey man, it's Cayman".What I am trying to elicit is an anthology of the greatest beach stories you guys and gals have experienced all over this big blue marble.  Vato, tell me about the lobsters you have known on the East Coast and Diane and Rupert, you world travelers, give us all a global perspective.  Jackie and Mark, tell us about the South Seas, or at least as much as you care to share.  Has anybody been to Cabo?  any and all, please respond.  I am in a Beachboys kind of mood and I need a top 10 list of the best beaches to put on my wish list, but be sure to include  some personal stories to go with the list.  Here is one embarassing shorty from Destin.  Linda and I had just had dinner at one of the  greatest restaurants of all time==POPPY's at San Destin.  There was a big backup at the Valet stand and so they were calling out the makes of cars as they brought them up because it was so crowded that they couldn't maneuver the cars to the cramped front of the line.  The valet called out "Infiniti" and so i asked the young man to lead me to my Q-45.  I followed him throught the huge crowd only to realize when we got to the car that he really wasn't interested in the car I owned back in Texas,but rather the car I happened to be  driving that evening, which was a rental Impala compliments of Alamo.  What does Emily Post have to say about how much you should tip a valet for opening the door for you to a car that isn't yours?  Ok, one more from Destin.  After waiting an hour to rent a kayak for an hour's worth of paddling, Linda and I were facedwith only the small task of boarding the vessel in about three feet of water.  Well, the surf was a little too much for the Commish, but after a couple of failed attempts, Linda was firmly seated in the bow position and I in the stern.  Unfortunately I fell backward and made the bad decision of asking Linda to reach back and pull me to an upright position so that we could begin our voyage.  For those of you that may not know it , the laws of physics are not suspended just because you are on vacation and as a result I managed to pull Linda out of her secure position and  dump us both into the beautiful Gulf of Mexico, with the kayak on top of both of us.  With much frustration, we managed to achieve stability in the sand rather quickly, however the kayak then took out its frustration on us and slammed both of us in the shins repeatedly.  I grabbed the kayak by the tow roap and dragged it back to shore.  Total elapsed time of the one hour rental...four minutes and 21 seconds but it seemed like an eternity to me.  This beach fiasco was only matched in history and elapsed time by my unfortunate $200 rental of the skidoo on the beach at LABADI in Haitti,  but that is another story for another time.  Just like the Santa Fe debacle on skis I would like to have blaimed both water mishaps on the altitude but unfortunatele at sea level, there isn't any altitude, so I will attribute the problems encountered on the beach to poor equipment ,and I am not referring to mine.

Till the water falls   

Peter Paul and Mary...and me

There has been unprecedented inteest shown in  Slimish the Commish and as a result, I have been asked to recount one of the greatest Slimishes of all time.  A little background is needed.  Since the early 60's I have been a big fan of Peter Paul and Mary. One of the highlights of my  college career ( right up there with almost making the Providence College GE College Bowl team as a freshman...Do you know the names of both Don Quixote's and El Cid's horses?...Answer== Rosinante and Babieca, respectively)  was seeing PPM in person four times, but never up close.  Fast Forward to the mid 90's.  PPandM are to appear at the beautiful Meyerson in Dallas, but allas (get it, get it ) I found out too late to get any tickets for this sold out concert.  I somehow learned that  against all odds you can go to the ticket office of sold out concerts at the Meyerson two hours early and purchase "conditional tickets" that will get you a seat in the event of no-shows on a first come first served basis.  I was there 3 hours early with about 30 other Lost in Lets Remember baby boomers.  It was like an NPR refugee camp and with all that time on our hands, close friendships soon developed as little circles formed to talk about past PPandM concerts and other 60's trivial pursuits. None of us had been to Woodstock but I assumed some level of aristocracy because I had actually attended a Newport Folk Festival in my day.  I became a special hero to two fellow PPandM wannasees, Bill and Sam, who were especially worried about being seated and then later challenged for their seat by the rightful but tardy owners.  The authorities assured us that once we were escorted to the vacant seats about 5 minutes after show time, then those seats were ours and the management would deal with any po'd patrons.  Subsequent events were to place this statement right up there with the three other greatest lies of all time, but not too worry , I expected that, so I instructed my two new lifelong friends in what to do if someone came looking for their seats.  I explained the NECCO Wafer principle which is short for NO EYE CONTACT CREATES OMNIPRESENCE.  I told them that if people start yelling about us sitting in their seats, we are to look straight ahead as if they didn't exist.  The result would be that other audience members would embarass them into  giving up their plight because everyone would be anxious for the show to begin.  I was convinced that our little band of brothers was ready for any attack aon our space.                                                   

Like clock work at 8:05 pm our group of  about 20 hopeefuls was escorted to the back of the balcony and rather than being seated, we  were told to take any seat available  and to do it quickly.  My  underachieving comprades wanted to go for some low hanging fruit  in the second to the last row of the balcony, but I would have none of it.  I quickly pointed to 3 seats together downstairs==second row center and off we ran.  We took those seats in the best of Slimish style , congrtulating our selves with sincere high fives that only a trio that has worked together to achieve the impossible can understand (you know kind of like the refs in game five of the recent NBA finals).  I was in heaven and to my two new friends I was like Moses, having led them to the promised land.

But right before the show was to begin, this couple nervously pointed to us and their tickets and politely asked us to move,  What do we do now? said my slimy partner, Bill, two seats to my left.  Without taking my eyes off the microphone directly in front of our primo seats, all I said was "No Eye Contact", remember those two people do not exist.  Only PPandM, you two and me exist, and the six of us are going to enjoy this concert right from where the six of us are now sitting.  As I had predicted, the ruckus was now getting embarrasing.   The usher was asking us for our tickets which of course did not exist, but that was ok because in my world the usher didn't exist either.  Finally the pressure got to be too great for Bill and he bailed, which did nothing to alleviate the problem because there was an angry couple looking for two seats, not one.  It was getting tense as two more ushers joined in on the negotiations.  Finally the pressure got to be too much for Sam, my remaining comrade and he said to me, "Well, Mike, it was a nice try but it looks like we are going to have to move.  True to the NECCO Wafer principle I just looked straight ahead and didn't say a word to Sam, for you see Sam, just like the angry couple,  the  three ushers and the 2000 impatient members of the audience no longer existed in my world.  It was just Peter Paul and Mary and me.  As Sam departed, dejected, having lost both his seat and his new bestest friend the couple angrily took the two seats next to me.  The girl stated in a rather loud voice, "Can you believe those assholes"  and then she stared right at me and said "That includes you too, buster".  I would like to more fully describe the look on her face as she profaned this hallowed ground where PPandM were about to perform but as you now know It is my rule not to make eye contact in situations such as this.

Everybody is trying

Well, it looks like a great many of my San Francisco blogaudience have taken Rule # 6 very seriously.  Apparently, soon after my rules hit the web, they put together some kind of formal affair and decided to give just one dance a try and what a job they have done.  The moves may seem rather elementary compared to my Swing and jitterbug moves, but what they lack in skill they more than make up for in enthusiasm and alcohol.   I cannot wait until the next dance fever hits because I miss all of you since you've been gone.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D2KMgchDGH8&search=since%20you%27ve%20been%20chun

The Commish

Rule #6- Audio visual help

There has been a great level  of interest in Commish Rule #6 (I hope you dance) as well as a lot of prior comments about Mama Sants and my outrageous moves on the dance floor at all of the recent weddings.  Attached is a link that helped me immeasurably in becoming a Fred Astaire/John Travolta  peer and it can help you too, and so I have decided to share this nugget with all of you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dMH0bHeiRNg

The Commish

Commish's Rules

By popular demand and in response to the currently popular Man Rules I will now give the blogaudience the benefit of a few of the Commish's Rules.  The CR's have been around for many years and many of you out there have heard some of these, but alas, like any good college textbook publisher, I find that the only way to make money is to issue minor  and irrelevant revisions.  Just once I would like to see a revised accounting text that decides to flip debits from the left side to the right which would then require all accounting classrooms to switch all of the windows in the rooms from the left side to the right.  Now there is a good way to boost construction industry results.  Well enough of that, because the truth is I hope I never see another acoounting textbook.  Here are the rules ...as annotated.

1.  Chew good and avoid evil...There are plenty of varied ways to assume room temperature, however, I have always considered choking to death the worst.  Oh sure, being scalded to death, or impailed in the eye with an ice pick or even being subjected to a life insuranc sales presentation are all bad but for my money, choking is the pits....get it, get it?

2.  People are more important than video games...Here comes the first revision.  I first came up with this rule in 1979 whent the Floyd boys would become mesmerized with the technical wonder called ATARI, Missile Command, Pong, and the marvel of PAC-MAN.  Well as you might have noted, video games have gotten much better over the last 26 years and I am sorry to say that  mankind in general has not kept pace.  So here is the first revision. SOME people are more important than SOME video games.

3.  Cleanliness may be next to godliness, but respect for the propeety of others is a close third...  Theft, Robbery, or just plain carelessness with others' property could get you a nickname, you might embrace or be saddled with for life.  For example "The Big Hurt" might be one such name.  Hey I'm just kidding Hurt.  Who loves you, baby?  Incidentally, while going through my papers in anticipation of whatever university that comes in second for the Bush library site to come calling, I found Hurt's tearfull resignation from the Dawgs.  The boy can write.  Too bad, these days the only creative writing he does are his expense reports at Dell.  That brings me to #4

4.  Write Thank You notes.  It's a wonderful habit and is appreciated much more than you will ever know.

5.  This one comes from Sneaky Pete.  When booking a beach vacation or a cruise, always spend the extra money and get an ocean front room with a balcony.  You deserve it and even at an extra $100 a day it's worth it.  But how can you afford such extravagance?  I'm glad you asked because the answer is in rule #5.

5.  Always Slimish the Commish.  What does that mean?  It is a term that defines buying the cheapest ticket to any sports or entertainment event, e.g. Upper tier seats to see the Mavericks, then scan all the good seats for no shows and pick the areas with the most absences by the end of the first quarter and move down there with your whole crew (kids or posse) and take over those seats like you own them.  It's good to have your hands full with food or drink to throw the ushers off about why you cannot easily present your ticket.  Also,take a reading on the body language of those ushers to determine if they are the Bob Manz-type who take their job so seriously that they would even deny entrance to Gregory Gym to fellow-Wildcat, Vato, or  are they more like Keith M., the type who enjoy being part of the Slimish move as much as you. OK, Ok, nothing is more embarassing than being moved from your Slimish seats when the real owners show up late, usually with Security that bears a remarkable resemblance to Bob, but when that happens just look at your cheap tickets in disbelief, give yourself a little "I could have had a V8 slap" on the forehead and move two rows over to another set of Slimish seats that don't belong to you.  After two removals, I suggest you take the Slimish to the complete other side of the Stadium.  The Slimish is not for the faint of heart and never attempt it on a first date,  but for pure fan excitement to match  an absolutely necessary made free throw in the final minutes there is nothing like the rush you get when it looks like you are about to be found out.  And that is exactly why Shaq never has tried the the Slimish the Commish move.  He cannot take the pressure,and as a result he probably is unable to afford ocean front balcony rooms when he goes on vacation.

6.  I hope you dance...  Wih my younger blogaudience, this may appear to be preaching to the choir, because I have seen so many of you out there on the dance floor with reckless abandon and creativity.  Who can ever forget "The Cable Car" or Trevor's "Double Dutch"  but you see, I am not just talking about dancing,  I am talking about the dance we call life.  So many of you have jumped into uncharted waters without being overly concerned with the road not taken and I applaud you for that .

  I am out of Senior Open Tee Shirts but to the person who posts a comment with the most validated literary, musical, movie, etc. references for words or phrases included in rule #6, I will dig deep into "Commish"s Closet and come up with an appropriate prize.  Jessica, as a prior winner you are still eligible and Hurt, this time try a different approach other than begging.  it never got you the first base gig, and it wiil not get you this desirable award.  I will be the final judge of the quality, completeness and and pertinence of all entries, because as you all know by now I am the Commish and The Commish rules and I have a tee shirt to prove it, thanks to Keith N.   More rules to come but now I must end this blog as I head to the Rec Center for another one of my killer workouts.  Be excellent to each other.

The Age of Enlightenment

First of all, props to Jessica who has won the Commish's Senior Open tee shirt for being the first on her blog of unknowns to attempt the three part trivia question of the day.  Jessica, your prize will be sent to you c/o Johny Quinn without any procrastination on the part of the Commish, which brings me to today's subject.  In my last posting, I reminded everyone that the purpose of my blog was to enlighten, not just entertain and I am proud to report that just like screenball has saved lives, this blog has now changed lives.  Let me explain.  As a mentor to all of my genX hard charging, (at least that's what their credit reports seem to indicate) and hard working young upwardly mobile professionals, I recently reminded that with regard to your challenges at work, do not procrastinate because "There is no time like the present" , but then I balanced this advice with an aphorism that I hope to one day receive full credit for in Bartlett's and to which you all need to take heed, because truly "There is no present like the time".  Apparently, this advice hit a chord with one of my young followers, Mat P.  Matt is an outstanding member of the Dallas legal circle with the added credentials of an accounting degree from UT.  To these dual skills add a killer jump shot, a beautiful wife and a precious young daughter and you have what is commonly referred to in here the Sants as "the goods".  Well Matt has just made a major career change which he informed me of at the rec center while I was in the midst of one of my killer workouts.  Matt has decided to leave the nine to five world ( too often that's 9am to 5am) of the legal profession and instead has accepted a teaching position at UT-Dallas.  He wil be teaching an Ethics course and I am confident that his efforts will result in conquering the common view of lawyers in our society. I have always thought it a shame that the actions of 99% of the legal profession can ruin the reputations of the rest.  I am only kidding.  Everyone likes to make jokes about lawyers until they find themselves in a situation when they really need that zealous advocacy  working for them.  I have been there and I fully appreciate the legal skills that have been provided for my benefit.  But back to Matt,  he has made a tough decision and it may not be permanent, because not even diamonds are forever. I know that based on his decision, he may not accumulate as many diamonds but he definitely will be able to be on the sidlines of a lot more  diamonds as Campbell  develops her softball skills.  He may not end up on the Supreme Court bench, but I can guarantee that there is no bench more supreme than the one that will include Campbell and her teammates listening to the coaching wisdom of her Dad.  And the only pleas he may be hearing will be "Dad, can you please coach us again next year?" Matt, congratulations. You are about to find out that there is no present like the time and its a present you give as well as receive.

.comMish