Okay, what's up with baby corn??

There are some things in this world that can pull off being small.  There are small dinner portions, small iPods, small cars, small font, small babies and even small victories.  But what I can’t accept is small corn!  What is the purpose of this tiny vegetable?  It makes its appearance from time to time on your plate – usually in a Chinese dish but it’s been spotted in Thai food and Indian food as well.  Where does this stop?  While I would like to give you the positives surrounding this miniature cousin of corn on the cob, I can’t as I’ve never eaten it.  When I see it on my plate, I simply mock it for its size and then push it to the side for later delivery to the trash!

I’m quite certain that it can’t taste like a nice, buttery corn on the cob and surely you can’t manage to get the corn on the cob pokers into the sides of them.  If someone were to try and eat it as if it was the appropriately sized version on the cob, can you imagine the weird looking face of the eater?  Pushing your teeth out as far as possible and then taking tiny little bites to remove the kernels.  Not good.  Every time I have seen them, they appear soggy and bland.  They are kinda wobbly and bouncy at the same time.  So tell me… what is the purpose?  Are they on the plate simply to get made fun of?  Do people actually eat these little things?  I have to think that they aren’t intended to be eaten, but instead are present to fill in some gaps in the plate.  Maybe the restaurant ran out of chicken or broccoli and thus had to lean on the limp spears.

Another thing… you never find these tiny beasts outside of their cob-like version.  I haven’t seen a can of itty bitty corn kernels like you see from the good people at Del Monte.  I wonder how many of these things it would take to fill up a standard 15oz. can.  Like 7 million?  It’s crazy!  When I think about it… I would have to imagine a field of Oompa Loompa’s out there hand picking these little things off the stalk, assuming there is a stalk even involved.   Maybe there is an entire village of tiny things and this little corn isn’t little in that world?  The citizens of the tiny village like to get a laugh occasionally and put a bag of their corn on the farmers’ truck and it somehow gets delivered to stores and restaurants.  Then, they sit back on their tiny little couches in the evening and laugh at those of us actually trying to eat the imposters.

Whatever it is, it’s STOOPID and must come to a stop.  Join me in boycotting all tiny corn cobs and push back on this tiny village, sending the message that we will no longer stand for it!!!

Herding Cats...

Have you ever tried herding cats?  How about substitute teaching a kindergarten class?  Ummm, what about trying to build a sand castle at high tide?

If you have, and been successful, you would make a great youth football coach!   You see, I coach a youth tackle football team made up of 5 and 6 year olds and have to share some of the fun.  Every Monday and Wednesday, the little dudes gather at the practice field in preparation for battle on Saturday.  They arrive with smiles and in full pads.  Some of them weighing in at a whopping 42 lbs and a game face that has the remains of kool-aid and pudding from their afternoon snack. 

The first challenge comes when they start off practice with their lap around the field.  Of the 16 kids on the team, there will be at least half of them that fall over during the lap as a result of their helmet weighing them down and messing with their balance.  That lap takes about 5 minutes.  Practice gets going with some drills to enhance their football skills and includes running the football, tackling and blocking.  Apparently, these little guys have some challenges in locating the ball carrier as time and time again, the runner will “speed” past the defense as the defensive guy is either dancing with the kiddo blocking them or has lost interest and asking when practice is over… right in the middle of the play.  More work needs done on the concept of tackling the ball carrier. 

Then, there is the huddle.  Yes, seems like a pretty easy thing to conquer but when you have 5 and 6 year old kids that have the attention span of a gnat, it proves a challenge.  With each offensive player assigned a particular spot in the huddle, we still find there are voids and gaps in the huddle.  The guard is where the tight end should be.  The tight end has failed to join the huddle and is chasing a grasshopper.  The center is struggling with a runny nose that is leaking into his mouthpiece that he continuously forgets to put in his mouth.  When he does put it in, he puts it upside down and complains of discomfort.  After shifting the kids into the right spots in the huddle, we call out a play.  The holes are 2, 4, 6 and 8 on the right side of the center and 1, 3, 5 and 7 on the left side of the center.   Ahh, so the running back runs through the hole called.  Yep, makes sense.  With some of the kids struggling with this concept, I tell them to practice at home.  My recommendation is to write down the numbers on sheets of paper and put them on the floor of their bedroom so they can remember.  Soon after my recommendation, a little fella raises his hand and says. “coach, I can’t read!”.  Of course….  J

Game day rolls around and the boys look great in their uniforms.  They are excited for the game, or anxious to see what the halftime snack is, but either way… they look great in their uniforms.  As we line up to get the game underway, it’s apparent that we’re out-sized.  Our team average 45lbs and some of our opponents drive themselves to the game.  I think I saw one of the opposing players kissing his wife before taking the field.  The ball is snapped and their running back runs through our distracted defense and it’s 7-0.  Now we get the ball.  The huddle “forms”, yeah… when I saw “forms”, I meant that the coaches lift and shift the kiddos into the right spot.  Then the boys take the line and get in their 3 point stances.  HIKE.. the ball is snapped and our line instantly forgets how to block and stands straight up, allowing the defensive players that are sporting goatees to smash our little running back.  Just doesn’t seem right.  This goes on for two 22 minute running halfs.  Ouch.

As the game ends, the boys are happy.  They don’t care about the score… they have wiped away the tears that resulted from a boo boo in the first half.  They are excited they got to play football and now looking for the little Gatorade bottles and Nutter Butter cookie packs to seal the day.  When they look up at you with sweaty brows and grass stained pants…. Their little faces looking for a congratulatory speech…  ahh, makes it all worth it.  The kids might have got whooped on the field, but they are football players and they are proud to be.  Herding cats is tough.  It’s stressful and frustrating at times but these little dudes trying their hardest and enjoying the game for what it is – well, that is worth the price of admission!!!  So, I’m off to create this week’s practice plan which will include huddles, tackling, blocking and a handful of fun that puts a smile on their faces …  and certainly on the coaches faces as well!  

Come on... you know it's funny!

At first I thought I was just being rude.  Then I wondered if there was something wrong with me.  Is it right that I find extreme humor and self pleasure in watching others trip, stumble and fall? 

I’m guessing that if you sit back for a minute and think about it, you too are on my side.  Think about it…. It can be a model strutting her stuff on the runway or just some stranger who is mysteriously attacked by a sidewalk gremlin as they stroll.  It’s frickin’ funny!!!  When the balance goes and then the limbs start flyin’ with every attempt to remain upright – it is something to behold.   Gravity is a nasty beast, whether it’s taking its toll on your body with new found wrinkles and sags or forcing the ketchup to hop off the shelf in the fridge and explode on the kitchen floor.  You can try to tame gravity, but you will lose. 

The other day, I watched a video of a model that was confident and proud as she stomped down the runway with her platform shoes pounding the catwalk.  Then, wait for it…. BINGO.  That lanky right leg hit a spot on the floor and it was on!  If you watch it in slow motion, it seems like it was 5 minutes of her attempting to remain graceful and hot while challenging her future that couldn’t be avoided.  It was ugly and awkward kinda like a new born giraffe getting up on all fours.   It was hilarious.  Then, the other day I was heading out of the office and to the parking garage when the dude that was hiking up the stairs in front of me seemed to have caught his wing-tipped shoe on the edge of the stair.  Oh yeah, he was done.  He dropped his bag and sunglasses as he tried to find level ground in which to collapse.  Garage sale!  I tried to keep a straight face and ask if he was okay, but I know that I had a smirk presented that I couldn’t control or hide. 

The best is sometimes post fall when the victim gathers themselves, returns to an upright position and then does the look around to see just how many witnesses there were.  It’s almost like if nobody was there to see it happen…. Did it happen at all?  YOU BET IT DID!!!  Another favorite crashing of mine involve celebs.  Recent events can display Lady Gaga hitting the floor, and Rhianna bouncing off the stage.  There is something about multi-millionaires and their inability to buy balance and grace that just tickles my fancy.

So, if you’re jonesing for a little taste of someone else’s misfortune, might I recommend airports as the many obstacles and challenges associated with travel seem to offer the highest level of return for your viewing pleasure.  If you don’t travel yourself… just sit on a bench somewhere at lunchtime and take in the fun.  Now, if this happens to you… you must realize that there are others out there like me who will be chuckling at your equilibrium-challenged self.  Don’t let that get you down.  We still love you and think you’re awesome.   Don’t be embarrassed and don’t be mad.  Know that you likely made someone else’s day with your fiasco and then give yourself a little chuckle.  Then, once you have collected yourself, apply band-aids where necessary!!

Fantasy Football is approaching....

It’s a time for the Red Zone channel.  A time when Sundays lose all productivity.  A time for squeezing in all the “honey-do’s” into Saturday so that Sunday is free for couch time, nachos and beer.  Ahhh, the fantasy football season is a knockin’ on the door.

I don’t know about your league, but my league kicks things off with an annual draft party hosted by the Commish.  There are ribs, burgers, appetizers, smack talking, laptops, notes,  draft guides and some drink.  Yes, fantasy football and drink kinda go hand in hand.  I like to start off my football Sunday with a Bloody Mary and some final checks on my starting lineup.  Then, perhaps move into the world of Fat Tire?  Really depends on the weather and the matchups I’m facing.  Everything has to be organized and prepared.

I don’t know what the record is for most football games watched at once, but I’m a believer you should tune into the Game Mix channel which offers up to 10 games, then have your local game on the “last” button.  Then, light up the laptop or iPad for viewing of the red zone channel.  With that approach, even my tiny brain finds a way to digest the scores, stats and turnovers all while keeping an eye on Stat Tracker to see just how bad I’m thumping my opponent!  For the rookies out there, if you find yourself on a commercial at any point on Sunday…. You are failing!!!

One should also be cautious in playing in too many leagues.  You could find yourself cheering for one lineup in one league, but then have players in another league that you’re facing in the other.  Yeah, you can see the dilemma that is ever present.  When this happens, you will find that you root for completions, but not many yards.  Or, score a TD but then later fumble.  It just is too challenging to know when you need to blast out a finely orchestrated string of cuss words and when to just have another sip of Fat Tire.

Another thing to consider is the feelings of your spouse.  I find it best to manage expectations up front.  When he/she (know, I don’t mean you’re married to a transvestite) knows the kind of person you will become on Sundays, they will find it difficult to hold you truly accountable for your actions.  Explain the good, bad and ugly associated with coaching your own fantasy football team.  Inform them of the stats and their importance.  Communicate that when you will certainly scream out at the top of your lungs for a fumble or player that gets tackled at the 2 yard line only for the next RB to get the carry and touchdown on the next play.  These are important Sunday moments that can dictate your mood and attitude for the following days. 

All in all, what a great time of year.  Draft parties, questionable trades and the dodging of any real responsibility on Sunday.  Thank you Fantasy Gods for delivering this wonderful season and thank you spouses for holding off on divorce papers, knowing there will only be 20 weeks or so of this madness.  Besides, when football is over…. We Fantasy Fools struggle to find joy in playing Fantasy semi-truck pulling competitions once football has vanished.

Enjoy the season and may I wish you sacks and fumbles!!!

Boys will be boys..

We guys have this inner voice that encourages us to be messy, stinky and sometimes just outright rude.  We know that this behavior can’t be tolerated in our normal day to day lives as we have responsibilities.  We have work that won’t stand for it and we have children we prefer not walk around burping all day long.  Did I mention the looks we would get our from wives as well?

Still, what a nice break from reality it is when a group of buddies gets together for a long weekend up at a cabin to partake in golf, horseshoes, grilling and some “light” consumption of beverage.  So, picture this if you wil…

8 friends gather once a year for a trip to the mountains and a stay at a cabin.  Those friends have played ball together, stood in weddings together and played many a golf course together.  As the crew gathers at the cabin, the trucks are unloaded with food, clothes, golf clubs and a big shiny silver can thing that has a hose coming out of the top.  With the sun shining bright, the fellas sit out on the deck and start the long weekend.

There are pitchers being filled and refilled regularly, laughter, cuss words and the occasional rude sound flowing from the team.  When guys get together, there isn’t a normal eating time, so there are burgers flowing at 3:00 in the afternoon and snacks laying throughout the cabin – inside and out.  The first day starts off with 27 holes of golf and wagers put on every swing!  The 8 guys race their golf carts around the course, hitting great approach shots and missing 4 foot putts.  Ahh, good times.  The team then retreats to the cabin to settle up all the bets and start back with the pitchers.  As we sit on the deck watching the day turn to night, we discover an incredible new game and means of betting and talking smack.  From the chairs on the deck of the cabin, we start to toss golf balls onto the rocks and dirt of the drive and towards a piece of 4” PVC pipe that has been shoved into the ground and in the middle of a light shone from the deck of the cabin.  From about 15 feet away, the contest is to see who can toss a golf ball, have it successfully dodge all the rocks, wood and wild flowers to find its’ home in the PVC.  DECK GOLF HAS BEEN DISCOVERED!  Isn’t it funny just how easily you can entertain 8 guys?  We’re simple creatures.

Day two is filled with 36 holes at a new golf course.  Still sore from all the swings the day prior and the excessive intake of fun the day and night prior (not to mention actually standing upright after a night on the couch), the teams break out to conquer the other.  Food, drink, drives and putts fill the day.  At the end of the agreeable day on the links, the team circles through the Taco Bell station to fill up on the necessary items for consumption back at the cabin.  Again, there is some smack talk and settling up of bets and replays of the memories made earlier in the day.  Ahh… good times.

Day three lands with no golf.  WHAT?  Nope, no golf today but instead, we shall gather in our chairs outside the cabin and alongside the horse shoe pit.  GAME ON.  Teams are formed, pitchers are filled and shirts are removed.  A day of sun and clanking of shoes!  Did I already reference the pitchers of liquid joy??  All day we toss around the shoes, not realizing that you can actually be injured while participating and can feel some soreness in weird places the morning after.  Before the day ends, there is a suspicious happening taking place with the large silver can with the hose.  It seems to be bobbing up and down in the huge trash can filled with ice.  Soon, the hose ceases to distribute the beverage of choice.  What in the @#(*&()*???  Already?  No worries.  I quick run to town for another 4 cases of the good stuff should get us through.  About 8:00 that evening, the grill lights up and plays host to 8 of the biggest steaks you have seen.  Surprisingly, the group of 8 still opts for silverware.  Weird.  Another successful day!

As the final day arrives, it’s time to pack up and clean up as we prepare for re-entry into reality.  One of the bets made in the previously mentioned rounds of golf is to see which team has to clean the cabin.  Let’s just say that isn’t a wager you wish to lose as I referenced the Taco Bell run earlier… yeah, 8 dudes using one bathroom for a long weekend is not a place you wish to find yourself during cabin cleaning time.  There isn’t enough protection, scrubbing bubbles and passion to be mustered up.  Ouch.

So in closing, I wish to thank my friends for another year of greatness and also apologize to my beautiful, patient and loving wife who has given me plenty of opportunity to adjust back into the life of putting the toilet seat down.  

Vacation…. Is it really?

You know that feeling you get when you have been busting your tail for such a long stretch without a break?  You are drained.  Exhausted.  Beaten.  Then – you remember that it’s only a couple of weeks before you say “LATER” to your corporate cage and head off for a weeklong vacation.  Ahhh yeah…. Some rest and relaxation.  Some food and beverage!!!!

Now – slap yourself out of that dream world and get aligned with the reality of what vacation really means.  Well, vacation when you’re a parent and it’s a FAMILY VACATION!!!!

All things change at this point.  The preparation for the vacation doesn’t include throwing things in a suitcase and knowing you can just but it when you are there if you forget something.   There is no rushing out the door on a whim with visions of beaches and Coronas.  Nope.  There is planning.  There is packing.  There is double and triple checking.  With kids in the mix… you have to make sure they have their clothes, jammies, toothbrushes, crap to entertain them on the plane, a change of clothes just in case of catastrophe and then check it all again.  This usually takes up to two days.   Mom and Dad… yeah, we were packed in 30 minutes.

So the day of travel arrives and I lug four suitcases into the car, hoping like hell the balancing act worked out so that they are all under 50 lbs.  We arrive at the airport, park and shuttle to the terminal.  Tickets and bags are checked and we’re sensing a slight bit of relief that step one has been successfully completed.  The plane ride goes off just fine as on Frontier you can swipe your credit card and for $6 a screen, the kids don’t have to miss Spongebob just yet.  Arrival to our vacation destination, taxi to the hotel and unpack.  Whew… step two complete!

Okay, now that we’re there in the land of holiday, I quickly realize that my wallet might as well just remain open for the remaining steps of this trip.   I first have to pay the street performer who snuck my little man a frickin’ balloon that looks like a sword.  Soon after the street performer, I hear “we’re hungry”.  Okay, so some chow doesn’t sound so bad…..  a quick lunch and $75 later, we back on the path of dodging the street performers.   By this time, the kids are ready for some entertainment.  Rather than rambling on about all the various fun that was had, I will summarize with 4D movie thing (three times), arcade, more food, another sneaky street performer with cool painting things, Bay tour, Alcatraz with necessary souvenirs, Giants game (okay, so that one might be my fault), Chinatown and souvenirs, more food, bungee jumpy thingy, cotton candy, movie at the hotel, aquarium with souvenirs, small street shops for souvenirs, Ghirardelli square for ice cream and chocolate, more food, another movie at the hotel, $80 stop for snacks and then some other food stops.

I think you can understand my previous point of just leaving my wallet open for the week.  It’s easier than reaching into my pocket for it 7 million times!  You see, traveling with children is not a vacation.  It’s simply entertaining, clothing, feeding and monitoring your children in a different location and without time for a nap.  My wife and I both agree that there should be two vacations.  A family vacation that will certainly resemble a Griswold event and then a parent vacation where we can walk around the room naked, drink as we choose and tell those street performers where they can shove their balloons. 

Don’t get me wrong, it was a fun “vacation”, but one that has left me tired and broke.  At least when I’m at the office, my wallet gets a little break!

The American spirit on display....

I have been a sports fan for as long as I know.  Doesn’t matter if it’s a golf match, hockey playoffs, Sunday afternoon baseball, or watching rugby.  Sports represent all things good…. Competition, teamwork, passion and pure “want to”!

Growing up I played anything that involved a ball, stick, field or competition.  There is no better feeling than busting your tail practicing, preparing, working hard at your craft and then going head to head against some sucker that is ready to learn a little lesson.  Ahh, sports is what makes the world go ‘round (and Heidi Klum). 

So this weekend I was excited to take in the US Women’s soccer match with the United States playing Brazil.  Usually, not a huge fan of soccer but when there is an American flag draped across the face of fans in the stands and the underlying sense of patriotism…. Well, that kicks things up a notch!  Watching the game, I felt myself struggling to catch my breath and sensing the drama and urgency of the moment.  The USA team faced one obstacle after another and it felt as though this game wasn’t just a game.  It was the American spirit and fire on display for all to see.

As the match unfolded, the Americans were dealt one blow after another with a red card and ejection of one of our players which left us short-handed for the remainder of the game.  Hope Solo (ahhh…. Hope Solo…..) came up with a miraculous save on a penalty kick to hold a 1-0 American lead.  Then, the official called some nonsense penalty that allowed another penalty kick that Hope couldn’t save.  The score goes to 1-1.  It was at this moment that things shifted.  The USA was up against it and appeared to be facing more than just 11 Brazilians on the field, but some questionable calls and an uphill battle that would be difficult to overcome.  Playing a person down and trying to find a way to dismiss the blown call that tied the game up, the Americans would need to dig deep.  They would need to reflect on all the Saturday soccer games as kids and oranges at halftime, the hours on hours of practice and preparation, the desire to keep focused and compete – regardless of the heat and fatigue.  They would have to hold on!

The game went to extra time as regulation found the USA and Brazilians all tied up at 1 goal apiece.  Brazil got an early goal in extra time to move 2-1.  At this point, it would have been easy for team USA to simply bail out and lean on the bummer calls that led to this scenario.  There were millions of viewers that had watched the Americans get screwed and which all would have said “that was unfair”, “they should have won”, etc.   Is that the American way?  Is that what true competitors do?  Nope.  Not the USA.  Instead of throwing their hands up and giving into the misfortune, they ran… they passed and they competed.  Then, when it looked as though the clock was against us and the final sands of time would bring an end to the USA dreams of a World Cup….. magic happened.

In a final run, the Americans took the ball the length of the field and a final crossing pass from the left wing soared through the air with millions glued to the tv.  The pass seemed too long… way too difficult to be handled.  Then, in what felt like slow motion, Abby Wombach left her feet and directed a header into the back of the net.  WHAT???  DID THAT JUST HAPPEN?  I was standing by this time, and even after seeing what just happened, it took several seconds for the reality to set in.  With only seconds remaining in the life of the Americans run at the cup, we prevailed!  Score:  2-2! 

The end of extra time meant that on the 12 year anniversary of the 1999 USA team winning on penalty kicks and Brandi Chastain showing the world her 6-pack abs….  it would come down to penalty kicks once again.  Drama continuing to unfold.

5 kicks each.  Americans start off…..  GOAL.  Brazil answers with a goal.  Americans kick #2… GOAL.  Brazil answers.  Americans on third shot… GOAL.  Brazil on their attempt….. HOPE with a save!!!!  Not just a save, but a save where she was horizontal with the turf and completely extended!  It was art on the soccer field!  Now, fourth attempt for USA…. GOAL.  Brazil must make their shot to stay alive... they score.  Now, with the final penalty shot and a chance to overcome all the craziness of the day we line up for the decision-maker.  The final shot on goal for USA…..  GOAL!!!!!!!!!!! 

The Americans have done it.  They overcame so much and now race around the field with smiles, tears and fatigued muscles that have suddenly found just a little more strength to celebrate.  I am joining them in celebration with my arms raised high, standing in the middle of my living room all alone.  I didn’t have anyone to high-five.  It would have been weird to scream and yell in celebration with my fellow Americans so far away.  So I simply stood there, quiet and calm.  My arms raised high and my sense of pride in being an American fully flexed. 

What a game.  What a memory.  What a great example of the American spirit!  GO USA!!!!