Sports Satuday/Story Sunday: All-Star

Today's blog is going to be a two-fer. Since I didn't get a chance to write last night (i.e., fell asleep early), I'm going to combine the two topics that I had already planned on for yesterday and today.

Tonight, the NFL is going to hold their annual all-star game, the Pro Bowl, in Miami... a week before the Super Bowl. It's the first time that they've tried this, and already there has been a serious uproar from just about everyone involved. Many complain about the fact that the NFL is requiring the two teams who have reached the title game (the Saints and the Colts) to send their Pro Bowl players to Miami a week early, just to stand on the sideline and participate in the pre- and post-game activities. Naturally, this doesn't sit well with the coaches and owners of the teams since they want those players in practice and preparing for the big game itself, especially since you're talking about the very best players on their teams. Others are complaining about the fact that the whole point of staging the Pro Bowl a week before the big game was solely to get more viewers for a game that would normally be played two weeks later in Hawaii. Instead of all the focus being on the championship, it's being shared with an all-star game that, for whatever reason, no one really cares about in the first place. Every year, there are plenty of players who opt to stay home and rest, to relax with their family and friends and do whatever they want rather than take a trip to Hawaii to play a meaningless exhibition game. Some claim injury, some claim indifference, but all of them have a reason for getting out it. There are 87 players in all when you combine both the AFC and NFC rosters. Want to take a guess at how many of those players are replacements for those that couldn't/wouldn't come?

32.

That's over a third of the roster that will be players who didn't earn enough votes to be a part of the all-star teams. That means that you won't be seeing the best of the best out there on the field in Miami tonight; you'll be getting the second best of the best, in some cases the third best of the best. For whatever reason, so many of these players just don't care about being on the Pro Bowl anymore. Maybe it's a joke to them, a glorified popularity contest that they're content to win and then not participate in. Maybe they just genuinely don't care. I don't know. All I know is that the NFL gets most everything right: they get the highest ratings, sell the most tickets, and have the most captivating sport in America... but they consistently get their all-star game wrong. There are more people that would rather watch the NHL all-star game than the Pro Bowl. Baseball went out and made the winner of the game get home field advantage so that there was literally something to play for. Every other league puts their game in the middle of the season, but the NFL can't do that because they're afraid that guys will get hurt. Who's ever gotten hurt at an all-star game? Anybody? They're not even trying to play defense out there, it's all a show! They're mostly goofing off and trying to make razzle dazzle type plays; they're not trying to cut a guy's legs out from under him or deliver bone-crushing hits. It's ridiculous.

In thinking about how ungrateful some of these players are, it made me reflect back to when I was in Little League. My first year of Little League baseball, I played for a team sponsored by Sod Laid. We wore green shirts and hats too big for our heads and we were terrible. I think we may have won two or three games that year. I played mostly second base, but a little bit of everything else as well. At the end of the year, everyone got a trophy, but I got a special announcement from my coach: I had been selected for the all-star team! I was the only player from our otherwise awful squad that got the nod. As excited as I was, I was still a rather shy child, and so I was nervous about playing on another team where I didn't really know anyone. As it would turn out, however, I knew a couple people on the all-star team from my elementary school, so it wasn't all bad. For whatever reason, the two other kids that I knew also got to sit on the bench with me for most of the all-star season...

One of them was Danny Zuchowski (I never could spell his name right), who sat out because had a broken arm. As bad as Sod Laid was, his team was worse. Danny's dad was the coach for both his own, car dealership sponsored, one win (over OUR team) battalion as well as the all-star team, which, I'm sure, is how Danny made it despite a broken arm and a terrible team behind him. The other kid that I knew was named Cortez... I forget his first name, but I know for sure his last name was Cortez because I remember not knowing any other Hispanic children. I also remember because the coach shouted, "Cortez! Berry!" when we were summoned to enter our first game with maybe a couple innings to go. Of course, having never coached either of us before, Mr. Zuchowski decided that we would be best in the outfield, where we likely couldn't cause any damage to the team's struggles. Little did he know...

Since I wasn't used to playing the outfield, I just approached it how I normally would at the second base position. However, there's a sizable difference between right field and second base, and I learned this when a ball was hit down the right field line. I approached it how I would approach a ball that was just out of my reach when playing the infield, with a backhanded glove. Of course, while this works on dirt where the ball is likely to hop into your mitt, it doesn't work on grass where the ball is much more likely to roll right past you and keep rolling all the way to the outfield fence. I learned this lesson the hard way. The hard way, as in, everyone yelling for me to chase down the ball that just got past me and I managed to embarrass myself in the first and likely last play I would get to be a part of as an all-star. While I likely mocked Danny Zuchowski for being a glorified cheerleader for a team that he wasn't qualified to be a part of, he could now mock me for allowed two runs to score on a routine outfield ground ball. It was awesome.

Needless to say, the Sebastian River All-Stars didn't make it very far. We played three games total, and were eliminated in the third after our second loss in the double-elimination tournament. I at least got to play an infield position in that game (third base), even though the ball never came my way. I never got the chance for redemption... but I've kept the hat and the jersey from that all-star experience ever since. I don't want to forget that someday, somewhere, I was good enough to be considered among the best of the best, singled out in a sea of kids as someone who was good enough to represent the entire league. I didn't take that experience for granted. I didn't brush aside the vote of confidence given to me by my coach and others around the Sebastian River Little League. It was a feeling that I'll never forget.

Maybe the overpaid, over appreciated players in the NFL could take a lesson from that.

Fun Fact Friday: Recycling

For several years, Meghan and I would hit up a Blockbuster or Movie Gallery once every couple weeks. We loved movies, watching entire series of TV shows over the course of a couple nights; it was our way of vegging out and just relaxing for a night or so. Sooner or later, though, we realized how much money we were wasting by renting a couple movies or DVDs as often as we did, and we ended up getting Netflix once we were married and living in Tampa. We love our Netflix. It's especially great to have the XBox LIVE subscription that allows us to watch our Netflix queue directly through the XBox without having to wait for a new DVD to come in the mail.

Yesterday, I came across an article or a website or something that talked about Netflix origami. You can check it out at http://www.netflixorigami.com/. You see, when you get your Netflix movies in the mail, it comes in a red envelope with a flap that covers the front. You remove the flap to open the envelop, and then it's pretty much just tossed into the trash. However, every now and then, you'll get a movie that isn't necessarily the most interesting or captivating. It's for this purpose that Netflix origami exists. Bored? You can make something out of that useless flap that you'd typically throw away! If you have Netflix and you're looking for something to make out what's normally trash, definitely check it out.

In considering this new found fun, Meghan suggested that instead of just pitching Netflix origami, I should share fun facts about all types of recycling. So... here they are!

*If all U.S. households installed water-efficient appliances, the country would save more than 3 trillion gallons of water and more than $18 billion dollars per year!

*About 75 percent of the water we use in our homes is used in the bathroom.

*The average bathroom faucet flows at a rate of two gallons per minute. Turning off the tap while brushing your teeth in the morning and at bedtime can save up to 8 gallons of water per day, which equals 240 gallons a month.

*Lighting consumes up to 34 percent of electricity in the United States.

*Compact fluorescent light bulbs (CFLs) are an energy-saving alternative to incandescent bulbs — they produce the same amount of light, use one third of the electricity, and last up to ten times as long.

*If every household replaced its most often-used incandescent light bulbs with CFLs, electricity use for lighting could be cut in half.

*Many idle electronics — TVs, VCRs, DVD and CD players, cordless phones, microwaves — use energy even when switched off to keep display clocks lit and memory chips and remote controls working. Nationally, these energy “vampires” use 5 percent of our domestic energy and cost consumers more than $8 billion annually.

*Each of us uses approximately one 100-foot-tall Douglas fir tree in paper and wood products per year.

*More than 56 percent of the paper consumed in the U.S. during 2007 was recovered for recycling — an all-time high. This impressive figure equals nearly 360 pounds of paper for each man, woman, and child in America.

*Recycling 1 ton of paper saves 17 mature trees, 7,000 gallons of water, 3 cubic yards of landfill space, 2 barrels of oil, and 4,100 kilowatt-hours of electricity — enough energy to power the average American home for five months.

*Approximately 1.5 million tons of construction products are made each year from paper, including insulation, gypsum wallboard, roofing paper, flooring, padding and sound-absorbing materials.

*Recycled paper can also be made into paper towels, notebook paper, envelopes, copy paper and other paper products, as well as boxes, hydro-mulch, molded packaging, compost, and even kitty litter.

*Recycling aluminum saves 95% of the energy needed to produce new aluminum from raw materials. Energy saved from recycling one ton of aluminum is equal to the amount of electricity the average home uses over 10 years.

*Recycling one aluminum can saves enough energy to run a 100-watt bulb for 20 hours, a computer for 3 hours, or a TV for 2 hours.

*Americans throw away enough aluminum every month to rebuild our entire commercial air fleet.

*Americans throw away enough glass bottles and jars every two weeks to fill the 1.350-foot towers of the former World Trade Center.

*Glass never wears out -- it can be recycled forever. We save over a ton of resources for every ton of glass recycled -- 1,330 pounds of sand, 433 pounds of soda ash, 433 pounds of limestone, and 151 pounds of feldspar.

*If only 100,000 people stopped their junk, mail, we could save up to 150,000 trees annually. If a million people did this, we could save up to a million and a half trees.

*The junk mail Americans receive in one day could produce enough energy to heat 250,000 homes.

*The average American still spends 8 full months of his/her life opening junk mail.

Enjoy!

Thankful Thursday: Unbreakable

Last week, my partner at work called me at 7:45AM. We're not supposed to be "at work" (we both have home offices in order to save on overhead for the company) until 8AM. Typically, if we haven't already arranged what we're both doing that day, we'll give each other a courtesy half hour or so and not call each other until at least 8:30AM. All that considered, it was a little odd that she was calling me so early. That afternoon, we had an initial meeting schedule with a community college a couple counties south of us. She was calling to let me know that we wouldn't be going to that meeting. She had broken her ankle the night before, rolling it after landing on a spotter's foot at, of all things, cheerleading practice, and ended up driving herself to the emergency room, staying there until 1:30AM. Needless to say, she wasn't exactly in the condition to sit in front of a customer, especially since the mass of black and blue at the end of her leg didn't even had a cast on it, just a glorified splint.

This is fresh on my mind because today was the first time that we've worked together since she broke her ankle. We had a walkthrough scheduled with a city government over on the East Coast, and when she showed up at our usual meeting spot to drive over together, she hopped out of her car on one foot, grabbed some crutches out of the back of her car, and limped over, plopping into my passenger's seat with all the epitome of grace and balance. I hope you can sense the sarcasm in that. Print media doesn't convey that terribly well. My first and only thought was, "Well, this should be a fun walkthrough." We stopped at one other place on the way over to cold call, and I got a preview of what we'd be going through later in the day. The speed and efficiency of our little operation ground to the slowest I've ever seen it. It was painful to watch. Thankfully, when we eventually got to our walkthroughs, we were able to minimize the actual walking and do most of our investigation beforehand by interviewing the client.

Through the whole experience, though, it definitely gave me an idea for Thankful Thursday. In my entire life, I've never sprained, strained, fractured, ruptured, torn, pulled, or broken anything on my body. I know this isn't a particularly unique experience; in thinking about it on the way home, I'm almost sure that both of the other people living at my house (my wife and sister) have never experienced any of those traumas either. But in seeing the way that my partner was limited today, in watching the pain that I've seen others go through when they have to deal with injuries, it made me extremely thankful that I've never had to experience anything like that.

Whenever I consider my fortunate history with injuries, it always makes me think of the M. Night Shyamalan movie Unbreakable. In the film, Bruce Willis is in a horrific passenger train accident that kills everyone aboard apart from him. He emerges from the wreckage without a scratch on him. (SPOILER ALERT) In the end, he realizes that he can't be harmed by anything apart from water (drowning). Now, I'm not so arrogant or misguided that I think I'm unbreakable by any means. Sure, I've wanted to be a superhero pretty much my entire life, but I'm not crazy or anything. Could I be? Maybe. Am I? Probably not. Still... for what I haven't had to experience, I'm eternally grateful. Let's just hope it lasts. If it doesn't... I'm sure as hell not gonna schedule any walkthroughs. That's crazy.

Whatever Wednesday: FSU vs. Duke

Growing up, I always liked playing basketball. Truthfully, it was mostly because my brother liked to play it. Whatever he was into, I wanted to be into. I know that it was grating on him at times, especially given that I was just too young in our formative years to do many things together, but just close enough to where we could still be interesting in most of the same things. For this reason, we always ended up "shooting hoops" together. And for the record, I hate that phrase... I'm not sure why, I just do. It's just basketball to me. Hoops make me think of earrings or hulas. I'm getting off my point.

At a certain point when I was younger, I came of the age where I wanted to get a hat. Sure, I already had my infamous Toronto Blue Jays hat when I was a little boy, but this was when I was about twelve or thirteen. This was serious. So one Saturday or Sunday, when we were all at the mall, John went with me to Champs Sports and we looked at the wall of hats for various college basketball teams. I was enamored with the colors... but I knew absolutely nothing about college basketball. The extent of my basketball knowledge extended to the fact that I needed to shoot the ball from way outside to have a chance at beating my brother, and pray that he missed a ton of shots in the meantime. Therefore, when I decided that I liked the light blue and dark blue colors of North Carolina the best, he just laughed and said that it was a good choice, that they were actually a good team. It was a Nike hat: Carolina blue cap with a dark navy blue bill and swoosh in the front, "North Carolina" underneath the bill. As we were checking out, he leaned against the counter with that smug look of his, you know the one, where he has something he's been waiting to say and can barely hide the hint of the smile that's getting away from him:

"You know that's Duke big rival, right?"

No, John, I didn't know that. I forgot to mention something. While most of my basketball knowledge extended to how I should play against my brother on the hard court outside our house, the rest of said knowledge extended to the fact that my brother liked one team and one team only: Duke. To this day, it's the only team that I can safely say he really likes. I couldn't tell you who he pulls for in football (college or NFL), NBA, MLB, anything. All I knew then and know now is that he likes Duke. For the next few years before he went off to Palm Beach Atlantic for college, we always had somewhat of an annual rivalry with Duke and UNC. This was in the late '90s, of course, so it meant that UNC was getting the best of Duke nearly every year, especially the year in which Antawn Jamison, Vince Carter, Shammond Williams, Brendon Haywood and Co. were crushing Duke 2-3 times a year. I say "and Co." because I don't want to give the disgrace that is Makhtar N'diaye the distinction of having any part in that '98 UNC squad that nearly won the national championship. And I say "nearly" because "and Co." was the one that "effed it up" in the Final Four. That's a story for a different day. I don't want to make myself upset.

I still follow UNC to this day. In the time that I've decided that I'm a fan, I've seen the Tarheels win two national championships, both in the past five years, and go to six Final Fours. Now, when I transferred to Florida State my sophomore year of college, this allegiance took on a slightly slanted view. I still liked UNC, I always had. But now... now I had a college team all my own, one that I could actually go see in person and wear the home colors, knowing that I was a part of it. I followed FSU basketball here and there my first year, but it wasn't until I noticed that UNC was coming to town that I decided to actually go in person. This game just so happened to coincide with John coming up to Tallahassee to help me move apartments the next day, so I got the two of us tickets along with Earnhardt and his friend Josh, the four of us sitting on the second row right behind one of the baskets.

By halftime, the Seminoles were down by 26 points. We were unranked, and UNC was the #2 team in the country, so it wasn't exactly a surprise. I felt a little torn on the inside, wanting my home team to do well, but at the same time, I wanted UNC to do their best as well. What was a surprise was the next twenty minutes after the half, because that's where the Noles stormed all the way back, tied the game in the last few moments, denied UNC the game-winning shot to send it into overtime, and then decisively rolled the Heels in the bonus period. The entire Donald T. Tucker Tallahassee-Leon County Civic Center (or DLTTLCCC for short) was rocking. We stormed the court, jumped on the players, and I still have the picture from the Tallahassee Democrat from the next day's front page, having circled myself, my brother, Earnhardt, and Josh in the sea of faces on the court. That signaled the rest inception of my fanhood for FSU basketball. From that point on, I've been hooked. We finally made it to the tournament last year for the first time since I've been following the team, and this year looks like even better odds to get into the field.

I already remember players like Al Thornton and Tim Pickett and Toney Douglas. Soon, I'll have Solomon Alibi and Chris Singleton filling my mind with memories. Tonight, the boys in garnet and gold have gone up to Durham to take on my brother's vaunted #7 Duke Blue Devils. At the time of this writing, my unranked Noles are still hanging around, hoping for a big upset on the road while Duke hasn't been beaten at home all year. For this Whatever Wednesday, that's what on my mind. A little story, a little sports, and a heaping helping of what's running through my head. Enjoy.

Top 5 Tuesday: Sandwiches

Tonight we had what we like to call "Panera night" for dinner. Well, a modified version of Panera night. Typically, we get some fancy Publix bakery bread, sliced cheese, fresh spinach, red peppers, and saute some chicken fillets with roasted garlic and herb seasonings, throwing the compilation onto our George Foreman grill and press to completion. Along with the sandwiches, we had a nice, healthy, organic vegetable soup (which is better than you'd think). The "modified" part of tonight was that instead of the grill press, we just buttered the outside of the bread and browned it in a skillet like you would a grilled cheese, and instead of chicken fillets, we had sliced deli chicken. Overall, it was very deece.

During dinner time, I began to wonder just what I would write about for Top 5 Tuesday, and as I was biting into the deliciousness that is Panera night, it struck me: why not sandwiches? Everyone loves a sandwich, and I'm no exception. They're portable, easy to eat, and delicious. Plus, there's an endless array of possibilities. So here, without more ado, are my Top 5 Sandwiches.

5. Sausage and Cheddar Croissant: From the breakfast family of sandwiches, the Sausage and Cheddar Croissant is my usual order when hitting up a lovely little breakfast cafe. I like a bacon breakfast sandwich just fine, but there's not enough thickness there to justify a sandwich for me. I like meat. I like a decent sized sandwich. Oh, and to establish the most obvious connector between my favorite sandwiches: I love cheese. I could put cheese on just about anything and it would make it better. Couple a well-cooked sausage (undercooked absolutely ruins this one, and it makes you feel like crap for the next four hours) and cheddar with a flaky, fresh croissant? You have a recipe for deliciousness.

4. Subway's Chicken Pizzaiola: I'll admit right off that this is not what I usually get when I go to Subway. I usually stick with a grilled chicken breast with green peppers, lettuce, and Monterrey cheddar, but this isn't about what I usually get, it's about what I think is the best. Ever since high school, I have absolutely loved the chicken pizzaiola. It's grilled chicken, pepperoni, your choice of cheese (I still go with the Monterrey cheddar), and marinara sauce. I get mine on Italian Herbs and Cheese bread, and although my wife would complain that it has two meats and no veggies, I would say that it's a guilty pleasure, not the usual (at least not anymore).

3. "Panera Night" Pressed Chicken Panini: The homemade selection of this week's top 5 is the grilled/pressed version of our "Panera night" chicken paninis. The toasted and pressed bread makes a great entry point, the spinach gives me the nutrients I need, the red pepper is flavorful, colorful, and sweet, the cheddar is sharp, and the chicken is perfectly seasoned. I could have Panera night just about any night of the week and be happy. Even the time that Meghan and I made it with chicken thighs and were scared we didn't cook the meat all the way through was a great experience. The only reason that this doesn't get ranked higher is because the next two... are professional grade sandwiches. It's hard to compete.

2. T.G.I. Friday's Jack Daniels Grill: Every time that I order anything from the Jack Daniels menu at T.G.I. Friday's, I also ask for a side of the Jack Daniels sauce. It's not so much the quality of the grilled chicken or the hamburgers that I get from Friday's that really makes me crave them... it's that sauce. Whatever they put into it just hits the spot so directly, so effortlessly, that I usually end up eating the entire thing, even when I know those sandwiches are oversized and certainly not the correct portion. When it's that good, though, you just can't stop yourself.

1. Cafe Fresco's Grilled Chicken Sandwich: (not the actual sandwich on the right) Emily has already chastised me for not putting a sandwich from her place of work on this list, but I've only eaten there once, and I can't make a judgment on one experience. However, on one of the first times that Meghan and I ate at one of our favorite spots in Wesley Chapel, I saw this little beauty on the Sunday brunch menu and knew I had to try it. This takes the croissant from sandwich #5, the cheddar from the rest of the bunch, a thick grilled chicken breast that meets my thickness quotient, and adds BBQ sauce to really tie the whole thing together. It's about as close to perfect as you can get when it comes to the sandwich delicacies. Even though it's not on the menu anymore, I still order it, and they still make it, and it's fantastic. If you ever have a craving for a sandwich, and you can't go to Seasons because it's Sunday and they're closed... go here, get this, and thank me later.

Music Monday: The Kill

I have a feeling that most Music Mondays are going to come down to whatever song I have stuck in my head on that given day. Well today, it's "The Kill" by 30 Seconds to Mars. I actually got to see them in concert several years ago when I went to see Incubus. Phantom Planet went on first, and the only song I remember from them was "California," which ended up being their one and only hit when it was used at the theme song for the teen soap "the OC," which, coincidentally, Meghan and I stumbled upon one fateful night in the first year that were dating and ended up watching it most of the way through until it was canceled. But between Phantom Planet and the headliners, 30 Seconds to Mars put on a pretty solid show for a band that no one had heard of yet. However, I'll never forget them playing this song, and just how soulful it was. Listening to 98 Rock today while I was working, I heard this play again and, since it's Monday, after all, I thought it would be good to do a little research and see just what it was all about. Here's the song itself before we get any farther:



And even though the lyrics are embedded in the video, here are the lyrics as well:

What if I wanted to break
Laugh it all off in your face
What would you do?

What if I fell to the floor
Couldn't take all this anymore
What would you do, do, do?

Come break me down
Bury me, bury me
I am finished with you

What if I wanted to fight
Beg for the rest of my life
What would you do?

You say you wanted more
What are you waiting for?
I'm not running from you

Come break me down
Bury me, bury me
I am finished with you

Look in my eyes
You're killing me, killing me
All I wanted was you

I tried to be someone else
But nothing seemed to change
I know now, this is who I really am inside

Finally found myself
Fighting for a chance
I know now, this is who I really am

Come break me down
Bury me, bury me
I am finished with you, you, you

Look in my eyes
You're killing me, killing me
All I wanted was you

Come, break me down
Break me down
Break me down

What if I wanted to break?
What if I, what if I, what if I
Bury me, bury me

In my research, I've found that the first site that typically comes up regarding the meaning of different songs is a webpage that allows anyone to sign in and post their thoughts, sometimes with the backing of knowledge about what the song actually means, and sometimes with nothing more than their own brain power. Keeping in mind that anyone can get on the internet, you can imagine the kind of random responses that these things get. Most people tend to relate lyrics and songs to love, which makes sense considering that's one of the most fundamental driving forces of the universe. When others look at "The Kill," they see a song about someone who did everything that they could for the person that they loved. I even found some lyrics sites that heard "Marry me, bury me" instead of the actual lyrics which don't say "marry me" at all.

In reality, frontman Jared Leto explained (along with the rest of the band) on the CD/DVD of A Beautiful Lie that "The Kill" is a song about a struggle with yourself. He said, "It's really about a relationship with yourself. It's about confronting your fear and confronting the truth about who you are." When you listen to the song after reading that, you begin to see it in an entirely different light. You realize that the singer isn't fighting with another person and telling them how hard he's tried to please them only to get nothing in return, he's battling himself, and realizing that no matter what he does, he's never going to be at peace unless he accepts himself for who he really is. It's a song about being true to who you are. When you listen with that concept, it makes you really start to think about where you are, personally, with yourself.

Sometimes I wonder if what I'm doing is really true to myself. I know that I could be happier with my job if I were doing something else, I'm sure of it. But at the same time, I know that being there for my family and providing for them is also true to who I am inside. We even talked about it this weekend: what I want more than happiness for myself is happiness for my family. There are personal sacrifices that you have to make when that's a part of who you are, but I think that those sacrifices are worth it. It's part of the way that I show love. That's not being untrue to myself, it's showing that there's more to me than just what I do for a living. My job may not be my ultimate passion, but it's a means to an end for my ultimate passion: my wife and extended family, and deep down, those are the people who make me who I am. That, is who I really am inside.

Story Sunday: Mini-cation

Well, I was half right on Sports Saturday, and I knew at least ONE of those games was going to overtime... I just picked the wrong one. Anyway, Sports Saturday is long behind us, and it's time for the hinted at Story Sunday.

At some point on Friday (I can't exactly recall when), Meghan mentioned that she'd love to just go somewhere this weekend. No specifics, no other mentions of it, but it stuck out in my mind. So when she asked me Saturday morning what I was going to do that day (she was heading out to go to Hyde Park with Emily while she was getting her hair cut), and I replied with the usual: "video games." Of course, in the back of my mind, I knew what I was REALLY going to do... apart from playing games. By the time she got home, I had already pulled up several different options for a hotel across the bay that she could choose from for a one night only "mini-cation" or "stay-cation" as some are calling them. It's a new trend of saving money by staying close to home and enjoying what your region already has to offer. For example, we've been to the beach one time (count 'em: one) since we moved to Tampa in the summer of 2008. We eventually settled on a little place in Treasure Island (part of St. Pete) that was extraordinarily low in price that said we would have a beach view. It looked modern and pretty upscale, so we went for it.

Upon nearing our destination, I told Megs to keep an eye out for the hotel. I said that from the Google maps I looked at, it would probably be on the right, but that that didn't really make sense considering we were supposed to have a beach view. When we spotted the hotel not much longer, lo and behold, it was on the right. Once we checked in, I learned the difference between "beach view" and "beach front." Still, we could see the beach from our fifth-story window beyond the two-story hotel across the street that was actually on the beach. All things considered, what we paid was well worth what we got. It was a two-bedroom suite where everything smelled like a new house, a balcony that did have a beach view, and big screen plasmas in both bedrooms and the living room.

We took a walk (across the street) on the beach for a while to start. It was a little cooler and breezier than we realized, and there were quite a few seagulls enjoying the surf as it lapped the shore. Regardless, it was a beautiful sunset and a nice walk, a great way to start our night. Soon, though, it got a little too cool for comfort, I began to worry that the birds would resent us invading their privacy, and we didn't want to get shivved by a vagrant if we walked back to the hotel in the dark.

After an hour or so of Meghan watching an unsavory show on Bravo that shall remain nameless, and me searching for a nice place for us to go to dinner, she decided to get ready and I decided that we were going to the restaurant with the piano bar. Little did I know... So we got nice and dressed up, found a nice parking spot, walked through the front door of the restaurant, and immediately realized that we were going to be the youngest people in the place. Couple this with the fact that the "piano bar" was actually a "keyboard/synthesizer bar," suffice to say I was a little... disappointed. We were surrounded by dozens of people all at least thirty years our senior, and all with a serious case of sultry-smoker-voice. This is the kind of crowd where the waitress calls everybody "hun," and at least 1-in-2 men wears a floral print shirt. Needless to say, we stuck out like a sore thumb. But then, a funny thing happened. In my profuse apologies to my wife for taking her to what I considered a sub-par selection for our mini-cation dining rendezvous, she told me that it didn't matter where we went, she would always have fun so long as I was with her. And for whatever reason, that one comment and the absurdity of the situation that we were in led to a genuine conversation about how much we love each other. For as long as we've been together (this May will be two years of marriage, this July 4th will be seven years of being together), the level of love between us has never waned. It's grown consistently stronger. I'm not about to go into gushing detail about everything that we talked about that night, I'll just tell you that there is no one else on this earth that can make me as happy as she does, and my only wish in life is that I can make her as happy as she makes me for as long as we live.

Sappiness aside, our evening did move out of the Bobo Fish Barn and Piano Bar (names have been changed to protect the innocent), namely to a place called the Shake Shop (the actual name, because it was actually awesome). The Shake Shop got a 93% positive rating on Urban Spoon, and if you ever find yourself on Treasure Island in St. Pete and you have a hankering for some kind of ice cream? GO TO THE SHAKE SHOP. DON'T THINK. GO. We walked up the steps to the window, saw the pictures of what they had to offer, asked what was in the Vienetta, and made our decision immediately. This is vanilla ice cream, chocolate sauce, whipped cream, pieces of waffle cone with chocolate coating, and all of it is layered together. We took that sucker back to the hotel, watched a very poorly acted but heavily anticipated movie on an unidentified network, and spent the rest of the night nursing a sugar coma.

After passing out, we showered up and hit the road in the morning, hitting a breakfast place called Beverly's la something (not actually "something," but I can't remember the last bit), which also had a 90%+ rating on Urban Spoon, and after eating the Croissant French Toast, I have to agree with the reviews. Couple that with Meghan's home fries that were about as perfectly crispy and seasoned as could be, and it really tied together a fantastic mini-cation. The whole drive back, all we could talk about is how I need to man up, sell some jobs, and bide our time until we can retire to a beach house and go to the Shake Shop whenever we want. Until then... I guess we'll just settle for the occasional get away. So long as it's with my love? I'll take it.

Sports Saturday: Goin' to the 'ship

To clarify off the bat, "goin' to the 'ship" is short for, "We are going to the championship." It's a phrase that players use when they've won a game that gets them into a championship game. This weekend, four NFL teams are going to play in two conference 'ships for a chance to get into the big 'ship itself: the Super Bowl. Although, because Sports Saturday is a day late, it's also going to be a dollar short. Don't worry, I'll explain later in Story Sunday. It's a twofer!

I'm not a huge fan of predicting games, well, more specifically, predicting scores, because it's next to impossible. Quite frankly, I don't know how Vegas does it, but they nail the over-under and the spread 90% of the time. It's incredible. That being said... I'm going to give my run down of the championships today (and yes, I'm aware that one of them has already started).

New York Jets vs. Indianapolis Colts

Oh my, oh my, this is poetic justice at it's finest, ladies and gentlemen. Part of the reason that the Jets are in the playoffs in the first place was mentioned in that week's Sports Saturday in my rundown of the Colts. When the Colts were a perfect 14-0, they had everything regarding the playoffs sewn up: the number one seed and homefield advantage throughout. So, halfway through the Week 16 game against the Jets, they laid down. They laid down like a sacrificial lamb and had to endure the insatiable boos of the homefield crowd, and justly so. They were going for perfection. They were going for history, and they threw it all away for a chance to keep their starters healthy for the playoffs. I've never necessarily agreed with resting starters since they tend to get out of rhythm when they finally get back on the field, but the Colts brass decided long before they reached 14-0 that, if the time came where they had nothing left to play for but pride, they were going to sit the big guns. So, Manning, Wayne, Clark, Brackett, Addai, and the rest of the gang had a seat and watched as the "JV" squad let the Jets run all over them en route to a pretty ugly loss in the end. That victory propelled the Jets to the game against the Bengals who also decided to lay down and, in the process, let the Jets into the playoffs. You know what happened the next week? Those same Bengals played their entire starting roster, and got beat. The week after that, the Jets handled the San Diego Chargers in a fashion that nobody thought was possible, and wouldn't you know it... Now they're facing the team that gave them life, hope, and a chance to go to the 'ship.

Most people are saying that the Colts will handle the Jets in much the same fashion that they handled the Baltimore Ravens. They look at the Ravens and see a very similar team to the Jets: stifling defense, powerful running game. I look at the Ravens and a see an aging squad with a decent bevy of running backs that throttled an undermanned Patriots team that's likely on the decline. I look at the Jets and a I see the number one defense in football that shut down Rivers, Jackson, Gates, Tomlinson, and Sproules. I don't think the Colts are going to easy handle the Jets, but I also don't think the Jets are going to completely shut down the Colts. We have to look at whether or not the Jets will be able to score enough to match what the Colts will, sooner or later, be able to put on the board. This will be close... but I think that the Colts are going to play tight, pressured football. They have to make up for what many considered just straight criminal in throwing away a chance at history. I don't think they will.

Jets 24, Colts 21. (OT)

Minnesota Vikings vs. New Orleans Saints

This will be an awesome game to watch. I firmly believe that whoever wins this game has the inside edge to win the Super Bowl. After seeing what the Vikings did to the Cowboys and what the Saints did to the Cardinals, you have to imagine that this game will be as tight as any could be. We had three snoozers and an upset last week in the playoffs, and this week promises to have two excellent match-ups in the conference championships. When it comes to the Vikings and Saints, you have two fantastic defenses and two offenses that could push 35+ points across the board against nearly anybody. When those two facets collide, you have to wonder what's going to win out. Typically, it's defense. The old adage rings true most every time: defense wins championships. So you have to ask, when two of the best quarterbacks in the NFL come against each other, what's going to give? On one hand, you have Brett Favre, who has seen just about everything. On the other, you have Drew Brees, who has about the best accuracy you could ever ask for out of a QB. Honestly, I'm just thrilled to see this game. I have no idea what's going to happen. Jared Allen could break through the Saints line and give Brees hell all day. On the flip side, the Saints could run play action, screen passes, and mix up the Vikings with every different crazy formation that they've got in their arsenal.

All of that doesn't even take into account the fact that Brett Favre had the best game of his career last week. That's ludicrous in and of itself. The man has been playing about 20 years, and he's just now having the best game ever? That's scary. That, combined with Adrian Peterson, makes you wonder just how the Saints are going to stop the Vikings at all. As much as I love defense, I'm kind of hoping for an absolute barn burner in this one. That'll be my prediction. That, and the fact that the Vikings aren't going to roll into the Superdome and take what promises to be the most emotional game in New Orleans' history.

Saints 42, Vikings 35

Of course, all this will probably be way off base. But hey, I don't work for Vegas, so you can't put much faith in what I've got to say on the matter in the first place.

Fun Fact Friday: Pups!

I've spent much of this evening paying attention to the beautiful, man-dog Golden Retriever that we all like to call the Chief (that's him on the left, which some may mistake for a stand-in, "model" dog), but whose full name is Chief Atticus Berry. He's very temperamental, but sweet, and requires a great deal of the aforementioned attention each and every day. When Meghan I first decided to research getting a puppy, we more or less did a quick once-over of the essentials that you'd need for a dog before heading out to look at him and his sister. Chief was the only boy among the bunch. In fact, the adorable looking Golden in the picture that was online was actually his sister... the one with the clubbed foot. When we finally got to see what would soon be "our boy," Meghan was already a little worried about his temperament after seeing a protective, growling momma-dog, deciding that maybe we'd look elsewhere for a new pup. However, that lasted all of about thirty seconds once she held that cuddly ball of warm fur and floppy ears. Once he was in our arms, we never let him go.

Of course, had we not done the cursory research to know what we were getting into, this whole happy tale might not have ended so pleasantly. There are plenty of people who see a dog out in public and decide that they have to have one, and then end up either not being able to take care of it or grow weary of the responsibilities involved, leaving the dog in a pretty bad spot. Therefore, since I've got my boy on the mind, I bring you... fun puppy (and dog) facts!

- Puppies are born blind, deaf and toothless

- During its first week 90% of a puppy's time is spent sleeping and 10% eating

- By the age of three weeks a puppy will develop their sense of smell, sight and hearing

- Puppies sleep for about fourteen hours every day

- Puppies grow while they sleep

- Puppies are weaned between the ages of 3 and 7 weeks

- Between 4 and 5 weeks interact with other puppies in the litter

- Puppies are usually found new homes between the age of 7 and 12 weeks and will start house training

- A puppy is considered and adult at the age of one year

- More than 5 million puppies are born every year in America

- Whereas humans can lose body heat by sweating, dogs can't. Panting is a way to regulate a dog's temperature.

- Some experts believe that dogs can smell one hundred times better than humans. Other experts believe they can smell up to one million times better.

- If never spayed or neutered, a female dog, her mate, and their puppies could product over 66,000 dogs in 6 years!

- The average city dog lives 3 years longer than a country dog.

- An estimated 1,000,000 dogs in the U.S. have been named as the primary beneficiaries in their owner's will

- The world's smartest dogs are thought to be (1) the border collie, (2) the poodle, and (3) the golden retriever

- Chocolate contains a substance known as theobromine (similar to caffeine) which can kill dogs or at the very least make them violently ill

- All dogs are identical in anatomy - 321 bones and 42 permanent teeth.

Enjoy!

Thankful Thursday: Comedy

There are few things I enjoy more in life than laughing and seeing other people laugh (unless, of course, this is done at me and not with me). Those who know me in even the smallest amount know that I love to make people laugh, and if I felt I was good enough at it to do it for a living, I would be. Comedy is one of those careers that everyone thinks they can do, but either never give it a try or go for it and realize that they're in way over their head. It falls in the same category of the rest of my fantasy careers: writing, acting, directing, producing, talk shot host, radio host, etc. Unless you go full board, balls to the wall, and know the right people? You're toast before you even get off the ground.

So since I don't feel I'm at the place in my life both talentwise or financially to chase that dream, I have to stick what what I've got. I have to be thankful for the comedy that does fill my life. Every day, there's something that gets me. Right off the top of my head, I can think of a few things:

- Emily dancing at Chief in the kitchen while she made dinner and pup responding with a confused face

- Chief making a rather halfhearted growl at our neighbor's dog, Jake, when I opened the living room windows and he realized that Jake was out on the yard

- The "that's what she said" montage from tonight's Office

- Reading about Jerry Lee Lewis conducting personal interviews with his gun on the table, between he and the interviewer

These aren't all necessarily comedy by nature, but comedic in their own, unique ways. Emily dancing at Chief makes me laugh because of the sheer ridiculousness of it and the fact that it doesn't make sense to him. I can't imagine what he thinks she's doing. Chief's growling is funny because it's just so darn cute, even thought he means for it to be intimidating. The Office is meant to be that way. Jerry Lee Lewis leaving the Intimidator on the coffee table is one of those things that you can see a man like that doing in your head, and you can't help but laugh at the audacity of it. Still, if I had the choice between laughing myself and making someone else laugh? I'd take the latter every time.

I can't tell you how many times a day I use the phrase "comedy gold." I can see the humor in just about everything. It's part of what makes me good at what I do. As a salesperson, some of my job involves damage control or at the very least putting people at ease. When you can make a joke out of nearly anything in the room, that task gets quite a bit easier. At the same time, I know I cross the line alot. There are plenty of instances where I know that making a joke or pointing out something I find funny isn't necessarily the most appropriate thing to do. Yet still, I do it, and people laugh. Now, in my mind, I realize that that may lose me an ounce of respect here or there in a professional standpoint, and that bothers me to a degree. It's in those situations that I know I need to scale back and have a measure of decorum. The trouble is, it's in my nature. I can't shut it off. I can hold back the floodgates occasionally, but there will always be a few drops of liquid comedy gold that drip out no matter how hard I try.

That's why, when I realize that I've crossed a line or I've made myself look stupid somehow, I'll just shut down. I know that it's better for me to just not say anything than to open my mouth again and run the risk of offending someone else by trying to get a laugh. It's a pretty difficult task. The laughter and smiles of others reassures me that I'm doing something right. I'm getting the reaction that I'm looking for. And when it doesn't pan out? If I don't get a laugh or a chuckle or even the courtesy smile? It's painful. I want to be the funny man. When people are asked about me, I want one of the first things they mention to be how much I make them laugh. I have a sneaking suspicion that my love of all things comedy and the fact that I'm constantly striving to get a laugh helped land me the greatest woman in the world to be my wife. On the flip side, she makes me laugh more than anyone I know. For the first six months that we were dating, I had no idea that she had a side of her that was just waiting to come out. But then? She did the duck face. Ever since that moment, she's put a smile on my face every day.

When I say that I'm thankful for comedy, I mean that I'm thankful for everything that gets me through the day, everything that makes me laugh when I'm alone, everything that inspires me to bring that joy to others. So thanks, Comedy... thanks for everything.

Whatever Wednesday: Haiti

After suffering what has already been documented as unfathomable decimation, the half-island nation of Haiti suffering a second earthquake this morning, checking in at a 6.0 rating on the Richter Scale. It's one of that instances where it seems like adding insult to injury. Just when relief and aid are starting to flow, we're offered a reminder that anything can happen. It feels like nearly everyone has offered their opinion and their sympathies on the events that are transpiring in Haiti, but thoughout all the news coverage and the facebook posts and the e-mails that I've seen over the past week or so, I hadn't heard anything like what I heard yesterday morning.

From what I've seen, Tampa is a pretty decent market for radio morning shows. We have several nationally syndicated personalities, and one in particular that's received a great deal of attention recently, both on and off the air. A few weeks ago (as some of you may have seen or heard about), Hulk Hogan came back to wrestling what what feels like the seventeenth time. I guess alimony costs more than dignity these days, who knows. But when Hogan returned to the ring with Total Nonstop Action (TNA) Wrestling, he didn't come alone. No, somehow or another, he managed to bring his good buddy in real life and on the airwaves with him as a backstage interviewer: Bubba the Love Sponge. Joining you in your car every morning locally on 102.5FM, The Bone, Bubba can be heard spouting an opinion on just about anything, most of the time at a volume reserved for informercials and monster truck rallies... at 6AM in the morning.

Now, for clarification purposes, I'll sometimes catch myself listening to Bubba for a good while if I'm in the car for any extended period of time by myself. I do this for the same reason that I listen to people like Rush Limbaugh or Jim Rome or even NPR: they're all entertaining in their own way. Rome has his own style that, if you listen long enough, you can appreciate. NPR has great information and sometimes some pretty eye (ear?) opening documentaries. The people who call into Rush Limbaugh are often so misguided and ignorant-sounding that it gives me a good laugh. And with Bubba (I refuse to repeat the rest of his "title"), you just listen long enough to hear someone call in (like Mick Foley did the other day) and make him sound like the misguided and ignorant idiot.

For years, Bubba has been known as one of Hulk Hogan's real life buddies. He goes so far as to call him Terry whenever he talks about him, as if to reinforce the thought that he's earned the right to address him by his real name (Terry Bollea; you can see why he went with Hulk). It's because of this, I'm sure, that he was given the position with TNA. It's also because of this, I'm relatively sure, that he feels he can get away with saying just about anything he wants. Well, that and the fact that he's trying to drive up ratings by being controversial. That's part of why he chose the moniker that he did as well.

Anyway, back on track. Yesterday morning (and apparently on the TNA broadcast this week), Bubba decided to spout his own personal views on the Haiti crisis: they don't deserve our aid. He offered what I consider the wrong answer for the right reasons: we shouldn't be helping Haiti and pouring millions of dollars' worth of donations into a country that isn't our own when we have enough problems here that could use those same funds to better ourselves. He talked about our homeless population, our starving children, our problems that need to be fixed and addressed in one united front. I don't necessarily disagree with him there. We're in a severe national debt crisis, we have been for quite some time, and many people are giving more than they can really afford to help the less fortunate in Haiti. Bubba said that celebrities and news stations and others are talking about Haiti, donating to the cause, and making on-site appearances not for the sake of the cause, but to boost their own popularity. I don't necessarily disagree with this either. I've seen plenty of news broadcasts and celebrities talking about Haiti without showing them actually doing anything, but that doesn't mean that they haven't. However, I don't think some kid whose thatch hut has just been crumbled into dust and ash gives a damn what Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie think about "the tragedy." He just wants help.

And that's what brings me to the point of this week's Whatever Wednesday. Whether you want to help here or abroad, whether you're moved by sudden, tragic world events or you feel your own home's suffering every day, whether you're a philanthropic billionaire or you simply donate a little time here and there when people need a helping hand, nothing changes the fact that we all need to be a little more giving, we all need to pitch in just a little more, and we all need to help those less fortunate than us. Everyone who is reading this is likely to have something to be thankful for, and when you think about that one thing, I want you to think about somebody that doesn't have that. You love the house you live in? Think about the guy standing at the intersection you pass every day who doesn't have anywhere to rest at night apart from an underpass. You love your family? Think about those who have lost theirs and how alone they must feel. You love your freedom? Think about the countries where people are struggling just to keep what they work night and day to achieve. There are always going to be people in the world that need help, here or abroad, but the bottom line is that if you can help? You should. It's like my favorite verse says: "Freely you have received, freely give."

So, give... however you see fit.

Top 5 Tuesday: Emily Berry

Yes, I've decided to change the theme for Tuesdays from "TV Tuesday" to "Top 5 Tuesday." Why? First and foremost: people love lists. They're compact, definitive, and lots of fun to debate. Second: TV Tuesday lacked the longevity and potential that Top 5 Tuesday does. In asking my wife, sister, and golden retriever what they thought I should write about, I got "ice cream," "greatest characteristics of my sister, Emily," and "arrrrrnolllld palmerrr." Since I'm about as stuffed as I can get right now with a fantastic hamburger made by my sweet love, I'm not exactly eager to weigh and judge another food group. Maybe I'll do ice cream next week.

So, without further ado, the Top 5 Greatest Characteristics of My Sister, Emily Berry.

5. Her dance moves. The girl can move it. Whether it was at my wedding or just around the living room intimidating the Cheif, she's the kind of person who just loves to have a good time. Music runs in our family's blood. My Mom actually went college for it. It's half the reason that I have Music Monday: I constantly have songs running through my head, and I'm willing to bet decent money that the rest of my family is the same way. I like to think that, even when she's not dancing out loud, my sister is dancing in her head.

4. Her determination. I remember a moment about half way through Emily's second year at college when many of her friends had moved back home or decided to go to other schools, and she was really started to feel the pressure of college. I told her to stick with it, to finish strong, and she took a deep breath and nodded. Another year later, we had a similar conversation, and I told her the same thing. Through encouragement, support, and her own constant determination to make a better life for herself, she did finish strong. And after that, when Meghan and I invited Emily to stay with us for a while as she looked for a job and tried to find her own place, she bit the bullet and did everything she could to find work. Within a week and a half, she did. That's determination.

3. Her giving spirit. This Christmas, while most everyone was struggling to find a way to make ends meet, my sister was no different. So instead of just shrugging and telling everyone that she couldn't do anything about it, she thought outside the box and did what she could. Little presents and hand-written notes let everyone know that she cared without having to break the bank. She's always there and waiting with a helping hand if anybody needs anything, which is part of why I've always been willing to help her out just the same. The fact remains that this is one of her deepest personal attributes.

2. Her catchphrases. Growing up, Emily was always going through phases where she had some kind of goofy catchphrase that made everyone laugh, not because it was clever or ingenious, but usually because it was so off the wall that you couldn't help but smile. From adding "tioz" to the end of everything "Daddytioz," "Mommatioz," "Jasontioz," or even "puppytioz!" ... to "DIRTEE!" ... to, well, just about anything, these have always made me crack up laughing. Which brings us to number one...

1. Her laugh. Anyone who has ever met Emily has more than likely heard her laugh at some point in time. It's one of the most heart-warming, smile-inducing, infectious experiences you will ever have. I believe that part of why I've become as funny (and humble, might I add) as I am today is so that I can continue to make her laugh. When she giggles, you want to giggle. When she laughs hard, you want to make her laugh harder. When she enters "silent laugh" mode, you know you've hit the jackpot. That's when she'll start laughing so hard that she can't make any noise for fear that she won't be able to breathe. However, she'll take a sharp breath, then continue to silent laugh for a few more seconds, then slowly but surely work her way backwards through the cycle of laughs. Silent laugh leads to loud laugh, loud laugh leads to mid-level laugh, mid-level laugh leads to quiet laugh, quiet laugh leads to exhausted, but smiling, sigh. It's my favorite.

So there you have it. My Top 5 Greatest Characteristics of My Sister, Emily Berry. Now she can't suggest herself for at least another eight weeks or so... Unless she laughs her way into getting another suggestion through the filter... which is entirely possible.

Music Monday: The Fray - Syndicate

For whatever reason, I've had this song stuck in my head all last night and this morning, so it gets inaugural honors for Music Monday. It comes from the Fray's latest, self-titled album. Have a listen. (since you can't embed the actual video/song, I had to find a live version; the music starts about 34 seconds in)



Lyrics:

Half way around the world lies the one thing that you want
Buried in the ground, hundreds of miles down
The first thing that arises in your mind when you awake
Is bending you 'til you break, let me hold you now

Baby close your eyes, don't open 'til the morning light
Baby don't forget, we haven't lost it all yet

Don't know what you're made of 'til the one thing that you want
Is coming with the dawn and suddenly changes
The Monday syndicate meets everyone the same
All we've lost to the flame, listen to me now

Baby close your eyes, don't open 'til the morning light
Don't ever forget, we haven't lost it all yet
All we know for sure is all that we are fighting for
Baby, don't forget we haven't lost it all yet

Someday when this is over
We may still have no answer
For now it's when I hold her
We are closer, we are closer

Baby, close your eyes, don't open 'til the morning light
Don't ever forget, we haven't lost it all yet
All we know for sure is all that we are fighting for
Baby, don't forget we haven't lost it all yet

We haven't lost it all yet
We are closer, we are closer.

When this album came out, Meghan was immediately in love with it, and for good reason: it's a great collection of songs. Pretty soon (after she listened to it all the way through for about the 17th time), she decided that she really really really really really wanted to go see them in concert. Being the loving, adoring, giving husband that I am, I made sure that it happened. She ended up going to the concert not long before she left for New York last summer to help with training for her company. Since most of the album is written in regards to losing something or being away from someone or the struggle of life, and this was all around the same time that she was going to be gone for five weeks, I came to associate nearly every one of the songs to her. Of course, I've find that I associate most every song with her one way or another, but these were different. When I hear "Syndicate," it makes me think about us being apart, waiting for her to finally be home. That opening line, "Halfway round the world lies the one thing that you want," gets me every time. My mind immediately goes back to that summer.

In my research on what the actual meaning of the song may be (I didn't get to digging too deep), I found several theories, mostly by fans. Some associated the lyrics with faith, one with the Holocaust, some with long-distance relationships, and quite a few with the war in Iraq. These folks point particularly to the lyrics, "Halfway round the world lies the one thing that you want, buried in the ground, hundreds of miles down." What's halfway around the world and buried hundreds of miles beneath the sand? Oil. I thought this theory was tremendously interesting and spot on if the lyrics were taken at face value. As far as the faith aspect goes, that's a different approach. I grew up going to Christian schools and listening to Christian music on the radio. Much of my life is touched by this worldview. I've found that, in the Christian community, if there's anything in a song that can be tied to being about faith? It will be. I'm not saying that many of the songs that are used in this way aren't meant for that specific purpose, I know that some of them are. What I am saying is that not everything is intended that way.

That's the thing about music, though: you can interpret it however you want to. Everything is going to mean something different to everybody. When I hear "Syndicate," it makes me think of my wife and the time that we've had to spend apart in the past. It makes me remember longing for her and how I couldn't wait to hold her in my arms again: "For now, it's when I hold her. We are closer, we are closer." But to someone else, it reminds them of their faith, or a long lost friend, or something completely different. It's all a matter of inspiration and timing. Where were you when you first heard it? What were you going through? These are the things that shape our perspective. To each their own.

Story Sunday: Touched by an Angel

Earlier this week, I was at dinner with Meghan, Emily, and her friend Sam. We were celebrating Emily getting a job, and somehow or another we ended up on a discussion of the paranormal: things that can't necessarily be explained. While we talked about ghosts and aliens and I think I even brought up dinosaurs (I was two mojitos in at that point), we eventually settled on angels, and I mentioned that they were something I had some first hand experience with. Since I shared that story then, it feels like a fitting opener for Story Sunday.

I must have been five or six years old when we went on a vacation trip with the whole family. I'm not sure which mall we ended up in (when you're that young, you don't particularly pay attention to where you are; this plays a rather heavy theme in the story, actually), but I am sure that I absolutely fell in love with riding the carousel that they had at the entrance to the mall. The details are fuzzy since this is likely one of my earliest memories, but from what I can recall I must have ridden the plastic horses at least two or three times when Mom and Dad finally said it was time to move on and have lunch. My Nana and Aunt Susie were there with us as well, and with John (back then we called him Nathan), Emily, and my Mom and Dad, there was a whole slew of folks to keep track of. This is when we had a bit of a Home Alone moment. I decided that I could hop back on the carousel real quick and have a ride around before they could get too far away. They thought that I was already with them, and headed off for Morrison's without a second thought. Since I was such a well behaved child, rarely disobeying my parents' word, I'm sure they just assumed I was right behind them. I wasn't.

Getting off the carousel, I fully believed that the extra ride was worth it, scratching the itch that I never knew I had before coming across the delightful circus music and slow, steady roundabout that those insufferable plastic ponies trotted through. I was giddy. However, when I started looking around and realized that I didn't recognize any of the people around me, and when I started shouting for my Mom and Dad and realized that no one was answering... I wasn't so giddy anymore. I started crying. Taking a seat on a bench, I thought this was it for me, that I was doomed to walk the mall forever as some sort of lost boy. So I sat on that bench, legs swinging underneath me with tears on my soft, chubby cheeks, and I heard a voice beside me.

"Are you all alone?"

I turned to see a beautiful lady in a blue dress sitting at the other end of the bench, smiling down at me. She had brown eyes and relatively short hair, but her smile dried my tears in an instant. I just nodded back, unsure of what to say to a stranger, especially when I just lost everything that I knew in an instant. She just tilted her head and put a hand on my shoulder.

"Did you lose your family?"

I nodded again. She just smiled and tilted her head again, speaking in a soft voice and sliding a little closer to me.

"It's OK... I'm sure they'll find you. Why don't I just stay here until they come back?"

Suddenly things weren't so bad. I nodded and smiled, wiping my tears away. I felt a sense of peace as this woman sat and talked with me, likely never getting more than two words out of me at a time. As a child, I was as shy as could be around new people. Today, I can walk up to complete strangers and have a conversation, but that took years of practice. So, I sat and let the lady in the blue dress talk with me and keep me company until, next thing I know, I see my family coming around the corner in a sprint, out of breath and wide-eyed. They spotted me and grabbed me up, my Dad holding me tight and telling me how sorry they were. I'm sure I apologized too for disobeying and getting back on the carousel, but told them that it was fine, the nice lady had kept me company and it didn't seem like it was long at all. Realizing that this woman had likely kept me from being kidnapped or wandering off or worse, my Dad turned to thank her profusely.

She was gone. Not "gone" as in, "Oh, there she is, walking away modestly and giving us this moment." No... "gone" as in, "Wasn't there a woman just here? Right here?!" It wasn't more than a moment that we were all facing away from that bench, and the next second, the woman in the blue dress was nowhere to be seen. Colors like that don't blend into a crowd, even if there was a crowd there. Besides, there wasn't enough time for anyone to make a getaway, even if they left in a rush. There had to be something more to that encounter, and to this day, I believe it was an angel sitting next to me on that bench, keeping me safe, keeping me smiling, and protecting me until my family could return. It would only be the first of many times that God's hand would reach directly into my life and save it.

Sports Saturday: I'm a Fan

Tonight marked the beginning of the "divisional" round of the NFL playoffs. I'm not entirely sure why they call it the divisional round since I think it would be more appropriate to be the "quarterfinal round" or something along those lines, but I believe "divisional" applies to the fact that each of the teams hosting this weekend's games are divisional winners. Regardless, we've already seen two teams advance to their respective conferences championships, and both games turned out to be a bit one-sided when it came down to it.

In approaching this weekend's NFL playoff matchups, I considered who I would like to see moving on to the next round. Since the Bucs were more or less eliminated from contention when the season started, I'm left with a pretty wide-open field. But in thinking about who I'd rather pull for, I realized that it didn't really matter who moved on, I could find a good story with anyone. In breaking it all down, here's why I'd like to see any of the remaining teams moving forward (bearing in mind that two of them are eliminated already):

Indianapolis Colts: After watching them tank the last two games of the season on purpose after starting 14-0 with the very real chance on going undefeated (they were leading after halftime vs. the New York Jets before pulling their starters, and the final week they faced a pretty dreadful Buffalo Bills team), I almost wanted to see the Colts get bounced immediately for essentially spitting in the face of NFL history. Then I remembered that this is a team that Tony Dungy built. The same Tony Dungy that more or less built the Tampa Bay Bucs team that won Super Bowl XXXVII under John Gruden. The man is one of the greatest coaches in the history of football, and an even greater man. I'd like to see the Colts win one more just to solidify his legacy, but also for Peyton Manning. Peyton is engaging, hard-working, dedicated, versatile, and one of the greatest quarterbacks in history. By the end of his career, he's likely to hold nearly every record that a quarterback can hold, and he's broken several of them already. Still, he's routinely criticized for being a choker despite already winning a Super Bowl 3 years ago. Winning one more would silence the critics for good, and take him one step closer to edging Tom Brady out of the "best QB in the NFL" conversation once and for all.

Baltimore Ravens: Defensive, hard-nosed football is a style that not too many people can appreciate anymore in the high-flying, offense-heavy days of the NFL, but I certainly enjoy watching it. The display that the Ravens put on last week against New England was fantastic to watch. They ran the ball down their throat, completely shut them down defensively, and reminded the rest of the league and the general public just what a team with a strong identity can do when they stick to their guns. (sadly, the Ravens were eliminated by the Colts tonight, 20-3)

New Orleans Saints: Being a Bucs fan, I've never really been crazy about the Saints. In fact, back when Michael Vick's cousin was their quarterback, I couldn't stand them. Deuce McAllister was the death of us nearly every year, and we could never do anything against their defense. However, in the days of fantasy football, I've learned to like them more and more given that their players have helped me to win after win (particularly Drew Brees, Marques Colston, and Pierre Thomas; Reggie Bush is a perennial disappointment). And in the aftermath of Katrina? The Saints were about the only thing that I could find redeeming about the State of Louisiana. Those who have known me since I had to drive to Dallas for training a few years back understand my distaste for anything Louisiana related... but that's a story for another time. The Saints and Brees have been a great story this year, and if anyone from the NFC South can take the title home, I'd like to see it. At least we could say we beat the champs... right?

Arizona Cardinals: I have always liked Kurt Warner. The man came out of absolutely nowhere to become a future hall-of-famer. Before he took the St. Louis Rams to one of the most thrilling Super Bowl victories that I've ever seen (vs. the Tennessee Titans), the man was bagging groceries. Since then, he's been to three Super Bowls, winning the aforementioned title along the way, and pulled the perennially awful Arizona Cardinals out of a historically bad playoff drought, taking them to the first Super Bowl ever. This is likely his last season due to injuries (namely concussions) and his advanced age, and I'd love to see him finish strong. (again, sadly, the Cardinals were soundly defeated by the Saints this evening, 45-14)

Dallas Cowboys: "America's Team" has been bad in December and January since the '90s came to an end. Their routinely lambasted in the media for their annual swoon, but this year? They did the unexpected and closed on a winning streak, beating the Philadelphia Eagles twice in consecutive weeks, handing the New Orleans Saints their first loss all season, and winning the NFC East. For whatever reason, I've always liked Tony Romo. He seems like a genuine guy, and someone who's really happy to have the position that he has. Besides, sports are always better when someone popular is at the top, someone strong to root against, as it were. I'd love to see the Cowboys and the Saints in the NFC Championship.

Minnesota Vikings: First off, I love the purple. Growing up, purple was my favorite color before I settled on cerulean, a much more grown-up shade of blue that speaks to my soul. Second, the only other reason I'd want the Vikings to win it all is simple: Brett Favre. To justify coming back out of retirement (AGAIN) and holding the news cycle hostage all summer during baseball season, he damn well better win it or else I'm going to be angrier about his second annual unretirement than I already am.

San Diego (super) Chargers: Their theme song is catchy, they play in a city that has some of the best weather in the world, and the powder blue unis are second to none. LaDainian Tomlinson deserves to play in a Super Bowl, especially since his career is likely winding down since he's hitting the post-30 years old running back decline. Philip Rivers is brash and outspoken, something that I've always enjoyed watching, especially when a player can back it up, and especially when he's not playing against my teams (I hated him when he was at N.C. State carving up the Noles defense on homecoming weekend). San Diego enters the playoffs as the hottest team in the league, and the showtime nature of their approach may be the opposite of what the Ravens and our next team display, but it's just as much fun to watch.

New York Jets: Like the Chargers, the Jets feature an outspoken, brash member of their team that gets headlines every week, but instead of getting in the huddles he's on the sidelines with the headset. The Jets' coach, Rex Ryan, makes some outlandish statement every week about how his team is the one to beat despite backing into the playoffs and having the last two teams they played essentially lay down against them with nothing left to play for. Still, watching their defense go from middle-of-the-road last year to dominant this year has been a sight. And even with FSU alum, Leon Washington, out with an injury, he would still get a ring should they make it to Miami and leave with the Lombardi Trophy. And hey, we could always use another Nole with a title in his back pocket.

When it comes down to it, I can find a reason to root for or against anyone if I have to. That's how I am with most sports, though. Regardless of who's playing who and what sport it may be, I'm a fan.