Thursday, October 27, 2005

The Cubs will never win the World Series, right?

My belief in curses is gone now that the White Sox won the World Series. If there were any "curse" in baseball that would have kept a team from winning a championship, it was the curse of the 1919 White Sox that intentionally lost the series because they were controlled by gamblers. That was the biggest crime to ever hit baseball, and if that team is allowed by the supposed baseball gods to win another World Series, then there are no curses except self-inflicted ones. The self-inflicted ones can become self-prophesizing, though. The Cubs are not cursed by a billy goat or any supernatural force. They are cursed by the thought of a curse and by bad ownership that sees a sold out ballpark whether they win or lose. People are saying that the Cubs are next in line to win a World Series because the Red Sox and White Sox have won in consecutive years. No, no, no, it's not going to happen. I've been a Cubs fan for too long. They had their chance in 2003, and they blew it. The Cubs were going to be the first to break it, but they fumbled their opportunity. It's not going to happen in 2006. It's not going to happen in 2007. It's not going to happen in 2008. It's never going to happen until they finally structure their organization around success and not merely filling Wrigley Field everyday. As long as the Tribune Company owns the team, that is not going to happen. Seeing the Red Sox, and especially the White Sox, win the World Series just makes me hate the Cubs in a way. I'm tired of supporting failure. All I want is one Cubs World Series championship in my lifetime.

That is all I'm asking for.

One.

I don't want two or three or four.

I...want...one.

Just one.

Before I die.

At 94.

And have them win.

The year.

Afterward.

When it would be totally worthless to me.

Because I'm rotting in the ground.

It's kind of hard.

To enjoy something.

When you're being eaten.

BY WORMS!

Monday, October 24, 2005

I have weird friends

(I'm using intitials because they didn't want their real names used. Wusses.)

Because it amuses me, and because DP told me to, here are a series of emails sent between DP, LDS and me regarding a tropical storm that could combine with Hurricane Wilma on Tuesday...

Date: Sun, 23 Oct 2005 16:03:35 -0700 (PDT)
From: "Daniel Bradley"
Subject: Hurricane Voltron?
To: DP and LDS

Do either of you know if it's even possible for storms to combine forces like that last sentence says? If they can, that would be weird. With the lower temperatures on the east coast and northeast, I wonder if it would be more like a hurricane blizzard, but I don't know if that's possible either.

http://headlines.accuweather.com/news-story.asp?article=6

Daniel

#######

Date: Sun, 23 Oct 2005 18:24:31 -0500
From: LDS
To: "Daniel Bradley"
Subject: Re: Hurricane Voltron?
CC: DP
Well, I am no expert (obviously), but I do know it is possible.

I know this, because I've observed it and observed weather people on TV saying it's happened. For a recent example, look at the huge amount of rain the Northeast got last week. That was a result of a general low pressure storm system over that area joining with the remains of a tropical depression that moved up from the southern atlantic area.

For an example around Indy, moisture from the gulf of mexico moves northward and joins regular low pressure storms to make them particularly rainy over Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio.

Hurricanes feed off of warmth, in the air and water, and thus a hurricane-blizzard doesn't seem feasable in my mind. However, moisture from the remains of a storm might be able to feed into a regular old low pressure snowstorm to make it snow more, I would imagine.

-lds

#######

From: DP
Subject: Re: Hurricane Voltron?
Date: Sun, 23 Oct 2005 22:03:55 -0400
To: LDS
CC: "Daniel Bradley"

I don't know anything about the weather other than that it was beautiful outside today. I really hope these hurricanes stop. Just this morning I was being thankful for the area we live in and that we don't get hit up by nasty nasty storms like this, but then I see this. I know that that's selfish of me but it's how I was feelign at the time. Maybe God is going to teach me a lesson with Voltron.

DP

#######

From: DP
Subject: Re: Hurricane Voltron?
Date: Sun, 23 Oct 2005 22:05:25 -0400
To: LDS
CC: "Daniel Bradley"

Why is it Volton? Aren't we dealing with Wilma right now? The next one should start with an X.

DP

#######

Date: Sun, 23 Oct 2005 21:37:24 -0500
From: LDS
To: DP
Subject: Re: Hurricane Voltron?
CC: "Daniel Bradley"

Bah, so much misunderstanding :-)

Wilma is the last named hurricane. They don't have a hurricane for every letter. They don't have one for x, y, or z... The next one is named Alpha (because they use the greek alphabet after they are out of regular names.

The name "voltron" was a joke.

-lds

#######

Date: Sun, 23 Oct 2005 20:50:34 -0700 (PDT)
From: "Daniel Bradley"
Subject: Re: Hurricane Voltron?
To: LDS, DP

Yeah, Voltron was a 1980s cartoon where the lion robot forces assemble to defeat the evil forces of King Zarkon and Prince Lotor, who are from the planet Doom, from destroying the planet Arus (and the galaxy!). Only here, it's two hurricanes assembling to create havoc and Voltron is going to be needed to destroy it. Let's go Voltron force!

From Voltron: Defender of the Universe ..."From days of long ago, from uncharted regions of the universe, comes a legend; the legend of Voltron, Defender of the Universe, a mighty robot, loved by good, feared by evil. As Voltron's legend grew, peace settled across the galaxy. On Planet Earth, a Galaxy Alliance was formed. Together with the good planets of the solar
system, they maintained peace throughout the universe, until a new horrible menace threatened the galaxy. Voltron was needed once more. This is the story of the super force of space explorers, specially trained and sent by the Alliance to bring back Voltron, Defender of the Universe!"

I'm weird.

Daniel

#######

From: DP
Subject: Re: Hurricane Voltron?
Date: Sun, 23 Oct 2005 23:53:35 -0400
To: "Daniel Bradley"
CC: LDS

Post this on your blog...

DP

#######

Date: Sun, 23 Oct 2005 23:01:25 -0500
From: LDS
To: DP
Subject: Re: Hurricane Voltron?
CC: "Daniel Bradley"

should he post it before or after the pics of him screwing your mom?

(Editor's note: LDS enjoys making jokes about DP's mom, which sometimes are a little on the demented side.)

#######

Date: Sun, 23 Oct 2005 21:03:27 -0700 (PDT)
From: "Daniel Bradley"
Subject: Re: Hurricane Voltron?
To: LDS, DP

You should know I'm posting the entire exchange from beginning to end because it amuses me. I am considering whether I should censor that.

Daniel

#######

Date: Sun, 23 Oct 2005 23:04:50 -0500
From: LDS
To: "Daniel Bradley"
Subject: Re: Hurricane Voltron?

I don't think you should

but I think you should not put my name, perhaps....

-lds

#######

From: DP
Subject: Re: Hurricane Voltron?
Date: Mon, 24 Oct 2005 00:05:30 -0400
To: "Daniel Bradley"
CC: LDS

CENSORSHIP IS FOR LOSERS! Post the whole thing.

DP

#######

Date: Sun, 23 Oct 2005 21:07:13 -0700 (PDT)
From: "Daniel Bradley"
Subject: Re: Hurricane Voltron?
To: DP
CC: LDS

I'll make sure to write in the appendix that LDS and DP's mom are expecting DP II in February.

#######

Date: Sun, 23 Oct 2005 23:27:41 -0500
From: LDS
To: "Daniel Bradley"
Subject: Re: Hurricane Voltron?
CC: DP
DP completely missed your joke and thought you were saying that I was actually his dad.... He thought it was funny with that interpretation, but when he learned the real one, it lost the humor to him... hmm, nothing like a homeschooled sense of humor...

-lds

#######

Date: Sun, 23 Oct 2005 21:39:36 -0700 (PDT)
From: "Daniel Bradley"
Subject: Re: Hurricane Voltron?
To: LDS
CC: DP
Eh, oh well. Homeschooled sense of humor or no homeschooled sense of humor, the Oedepus complex is a little too strong for me here. I think I'm going to end this now.

Daniel

Sunday, October 23, 2005

Christmas, 1994

My brother likes to accuse me of stealing his belongings, but other than the Nolan Ryan baseball card at Christmas in 1994, I never have. I guess that wouldn't have been so bad had the card not been worth $200. I asked to see what cards he got in his pack while we were waiting to leave home for a relative's house, and as I was shuffling through, I came across the NOLAN RYAN GOLD SIGNATURE CARD (!!!!!!!!). Not believing what I found and what he didn't know he had, I quickly shuffled it into my cards and gave him some other card. It was a Dickie Thon card, even though Dickie Thon was my hero for a short time because of his name.

I went through that Christmas feeling a twinge of guilt along with a "ohmygodthankyousantaicantbelieveireallyhavethisbaseballcardthisisthe
greatestdayofmylifethekidsatschoolaregoingtothinkimsocool" feeling. The latter was the one that prevailed. All my family members couldn't believe I found the NOLAN RYAN GOLD SIGNATURE CARD (!!!!!!!!) that was worth $200. They all wanted to know what I was going to do with it. Was I going to sell it? Would I hold onto it? How did I get so lucky? All the while, my brother looked on with a face of envy and hate. The competition that simmered below the surface and would grow. The only thing was that I never admitted to anyone the cards was his. With everyone huddled in my corner with looks of awe in their eyes, I couldn't let the lie out. Not now. In the mind of a 13-year old, it could never be known. This was MY moment of glory. Glory through a $200 piece of glossy cardboard. A lie built on cardboard.

As time went on, the guilt built and built. But I couldn't say anything. I never could. To do so would send me to the pergatory of the people who thought I was great. I held onto the card. It was placed in a prominent place in my room where I would never lose sight of it. It would not walk away and no one would walk away with it. The card became my being, my obsession. The card became my broken conscious. I began to lie to myself that the card was really mine. That I never slipped my brother the Dickie Thon. Never, never. The pack of baseball cards was rightfully mine anyway. Afterall, he didn't even like baseball cards. Despite, of course, all the binders in his room from when we traded cards. When I would offer him a Franklin Stubbs for a Roger Clemens, Jose Canseco and Rickey Henderson. And then it hit me. This was the peak. This was the cocaine to the gateway marijuana they taught us about in health class.

What had I done?

All the while, I did not let the NOLAN RYAN GOLD SIGNATURE CARD (!!!!!!!!) go. In February, my baseball card price guide came in the mail. As had become the obsession, I checked what it was worth. It had stayed at $200 the previous month, but when I got to the page, my eye first hit the little black down arrow. Oh no. It was now $150. What? My lie was decreasing in value. Now I really didn't know what to do. If I held onto it, I would be furthering a deception. If I righted the wrong, not only 1) would I be punished severely, but 2) I would be accused of giving back something only when it was losing its value. This put me in a slightly sour mood.

The months passed. When my price guide came, I would check on the NOLAN RYAN GOLD SIGNATURE CARD (!!!!!!!!). Same price, March. Down $10, April. Up $15, May! Down $5, June. And on and on. Eventually, the card went to $50. Oh, super. At this point, the old obsession lost its prized spot in my room and descended into a box, placed far back in my closet. I figured it should never see the light of day. Ever. Again.

Years passed, and I slowly forgot. Going through some stuff, I found it one day. "Hmmm," I thought. Last Christmas, I went to my brother, shuffled around a little and said, "You know that nolan ryan gold signature card that was worth $200 and went down in value which really put me in a bad mood?" He said, "yeah."

"Well, that card was actually your's. I asked to go through your cards when we were in the car, and I saw it and slipped it into my cards. You got a Dickie Thon," I said.

"Really?"

"Yep."

"You jerk!"

"HA! You're not getting it back! NEVER!!!"

"Do you think I care?"

The end.

Thursday, October 20, 2005

There are no words

Similar to how I am very easily distracted by shiny, moving objects, there are certain things that if I see in person, I have no restraint and must buy. They're usually objects that make everyone with me roll their eyes and start mumbling about how weird I am. This is one of those things, only I haven't had the chance as of yet. I have not seen it in person, but it is a snow globe. You know those things where you turn it upside down and the snow falls everywhere? But it's not just any snow globe. "It is an EIGHT FOOT TALL INFLATABLE SNOW GLOBE!" What more could a person ever want...other than, you know, eternal happiness, although this might just provide it. It's the most amazing thing I've ever heard of. For the moment at least, it surpasses everything cool I've ever heard about. It's also $149.87 from Sam's Club.

Image hosted by Photobucket.com

Apparently, it operates with a vaccum pump that sucks the snow from the bottom and shoots it to the top. It also lights up. Amazing. Just absolutely genius and amazing. I'm swooning. I really am. And if you all love me as much I know you do, you'll create a "Buy Daniel An Eight Foot Tall Snow Globe Fund" and pool all your money together. My yard needs an eight foot tall snow globe to accentuate its features. Hell, I'd throw away my bed to have it in the house. Who needs a bed when you can crawl inside your very own eight foot tall snow globe?

(And this is a time to completely disregard everything I have to say about the commercialization of Christmas. I'm full of crap. All the time. I'm full of it. Never listen to a word I have to say because you never when something so completely awesome will come around to turn me into the most excited hypocrite of all time. I think I'm seven years old.)

Monday, October 17, 2005

The enemy did it

As a Cubs fan, it is difficult for me to enjoy the knowledge that the White Sox made the World Series before the Cubs. However, I am not outraged like a lot of Cubs fans are. I've never hated the White Sox with a passion. It always seemed dumb to me. Plus, in a way, I am glad they made the World Series because my grandparents' neighbor Jake was a White Sox fan his whole life. Actually, the White Sox didn't even exist until Jake was two years old. He was born in 1899 and died in 1996. The White Sox won the World Series twice in his lifetime: 1906 and 1917. They last time they even played in the World Series was 1959. To the day he passed away, Jake was bitter at the Cincinnati Reds for beating the White Sox in the 1919 World Series. That's dedication, even if the White Sox players were influenced by gamblers to throw the Series. I'm glad they made it this year.

Now if the Cubs would stop messing around and next year...

Friday, October 14, 2005

Attack squirrel

The story of a man, a motorcycle and a crazed squirrel.

"Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel torn t-shirt, and only one leather glove roaring at maybe 70mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street on one wheel and with a demonic squirrel on his back. The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder."

Squirrels are evil.

Saturday, October 08, 2005

Soy Sauce Heroes

I am at work right now, but it's not busy so I can write this down because in my mind, it was pretty classic.

Walking in the Star tonight, I noticed a box of food donations. Altruism is a noble trait for a person to have, and it was nice to see two or three full boxes of food. However, the one package of food that stuck out to me was a giant tub that read, "Thick Soy Sauce." Why somebody would donate soy sauce is beyond me. In order to use soy sauce, you need to have purchased Chinese food for it to be of any use. Nobody eats soy sauce by itself. I should know. I tried once, and it was a bad experience. What I'm guessing happened was that in one of the departments, everyone was ordered to bring in some sort of food for the donation. Not knowing what to bring and not wanting to go to the store and have to spend money, they probably saw the big tub of thick soy sauce that had been sitting in their kitchen cabinet for three years and brought it in. No more soy sauce equals more room in the cabinet. I wonder what the hungry person is going to think when he or she receives the soy sauce. Probably that journalists are weird.

Tuesday, October 04, 2005

Dumb things

I am not exactly the most graceful person in the world. More times than not, I will find a way for others to make fun of me. I take it well. If I didn't, I would probably go crazy. Here are a few examples...

1) I was seven or eight when I was at a wedding reception for one of my mom's cousins. I don't remember anything about the wedding, but I do remember one part of the reception. Some of the other kids and I were huddled in back of the stage. We were bored. Wedding receptions aren't made for kids that age. So we decided to run across the stage as the band played. What could go wrong? We would run across and into the room over, the old people would have a laugh and all would be fine. So we did it. Unfortunately, I was running caboose. All the other kids got through fine, but the drummer caught me. As I went by, he stuck his handkerchief in front of my face and said "Hey buddy! Where do you think you're going?" I escaped, ran over to my mom, saw a security officer out of the corner of my eye (it was a big place), and told mom we had to go. She said we would soon, but I started panicking. Somehow, I didn't get caught, but for the next few months, whenever I heard a police siren, I thought they were coming for me.

2) In kindergarten, I had to wait for my dad to pick me up from school. Usually the third graders waited outside also for their rides. There were four or five of them, and they kind of enjoyed giving me a hard time. As a six year old, I was a scrawny kid who dressed pretty bad. I made it easy for them. One day, I was out there waiting for dad when I decided to start pacing back-and-forth, walking from one end of the sidewalk to the other for no apparent reason. One of the third graders asked me what I was doing. My responce? "I'm playing with myself."

3) I also:
--shot milk out my nose laughing during a class party
--thrown up on the table at school lunch
--ran out of a classroom while throwing up
--Charlie Browned twice in a row at gym class when trying to kick a football
--held the door open for a woman to a men's restroom and said "there you go" (didn't realize it was a woman despite the obvious)
--nearly walked into the girls' lockeroom in middle school before being asked where I thought I was going (accidentally)
--the same with the girls' bathroom in high school (accidentally)
--judo kicked open a bathroom stall door in elementary school when a kid was in the stall (I thought the door was just stuck)
--forgot my speech about rainforest destruction in my freshman year of high school and started mumbling about how it was "just so terrible" for about five minutes before the teacher said I could sit down
--continually asked my third grade teacher for a Kleenex while taking the ISTEP test even though it was on her desk two feet in front of me and could reach because she told us to not get up (she got frustrated)
--broke an egg all over myself in fifth grade by playing around with it while waiting to do my presentation in front of the class with the egg
--ate a potato that had huge spuds growing all over it because I was hungry and then got sick
--hit a girl in the face playing dodgeball and made her cry and made the gym teacher yell at me
--started laughing uncontrollably during seventh grade sex education and was told to settle down
--slipped on a grape in the elementary school lunch room and did the splits. Very painful splits.
--jumped over a pile of gynmastics mats in eighth grade and wrenched my right knee (It still swishes when I bend it)
--slipped about seven or eight times my one time ice skating and bruised my right elbow so bad that it was purple for four months (I didn't know when to stop)
--was throwing rocks into the stream at the park across from my house and for some reason decided to heave one that nearly hit someone above the cliff (they yelled, "What the hell? Who threw that?")
--wrote a blog entry about all the dumb things I've done.

Edit
I also once crashed the riding mower into the front porch because my dad was talking to me. The suspension was messed up, and I never had to mow the grass again. It ended up being a good thing.