Thanks for the Memories, February

As the month and snow slowly disappear, I think back to those few weeks of uncertainty that nearly brought the Mid Atlantic to a halt. I recall getting up and shoveling. Barely getting to work. Having an eight hour anxiety attack as I wondered how I would get home from work. Barely getting home. Shoveling before I went to bed.

Sure, this is still in the minds and driveways of a lot of us, but this month of struggles is melting away. And although I had an adventure every day, there is one that stands out from the rest. It is a tale of determination, motivation and the human spirit.

Let us begin…

It was one of those evenings when I was barely getting home. Leon the Neon was barely getting up any slight grades, but every inch I gained was another inch closer to home. So when I finally slid into my driveway, I came to the realization that I was snowed out. To make a long explanation slightly shorter, I did not have the garage door opener and the screen door to the front was locked (and I had no key). The only option I had was to go through the back door – which was barricaded by several feet of snow. And to get into the backyard, I had to scale a six foot mountain of snow that I had created during one of my “shoveling events.”

Luckily I had my boots with me in the car, so I strapped them on, tucked in the cuffs of my paper-thin pants and started up the mountain. After the first step, I realized the snow was up to my pelvis. Here we go.

So I trudged on through until I reached the gate, which wouldn’t budge for all the snow. So I had no choice but to jump it. With a mighty heave, I lifted myself over the fence, swinging my legs wide to the right as if I was running from the law. I landed on my feet – but into a fresh pile of snow.

Once in the backyard of virgin snow, I had to push extra hard. I climbed each snow-filled step to the top of the deck, pushed through more snow until I reached the door, where I ran into yet another problem – no shovel.

So before my thin wet pants froze to my legs, I started digging into the snow like a dog – using my paws – I mean hands – to push it away. Once I had a clear path, I tore off the ice cycles that encaged my house and was able to successfully open the door. And yes, I DID have my house key.

It was… fun, but it’s almost over now.

Or is it?

Tune in next week to find out!

It Hits The Fan

If you’re from the Pittsburgh area (and regularly listen to FM radio), you know that 93.7 FM (also known as B-94) has disappeared once again. In its place is a station called “The Fan,” which consists entirely of talk radio, which actually isn’t a big deal to me. I like talk. I like sharing ideas. But in this case, it’s not just any talk radio. “The Fan” is SPORTS talk radio.

If you know me, then you know my opinion on organized sports. (I have guys come up to me and just start talking sports while I have no idea what they’re talking about.) But how much sports can one talk about? Someone told me that the DJs talked about the recent Pitt basketball game for an hour! And when the DJs ran out of sports to talk about, they took calls from people actually listening to the banter to get their opinions!

Today was only the first day “The Fan” hit the airwaves. I wonder what others are saying…

There's Snow Place Like Home

Pennsylvania was in a state of emergency after receiving nearly two feet of snow throughout Friday night and into Saturday morning. We were all victim to a continuous snowfall that just pounded the area. If you’re living in Pennsylvania, you know the story.

And if you’ve lived in Pennsylvania nearly 17 years ago, you would know that this storm is comparable to the infamous “Blizzard of ‘93” where strong winds created neat little “snow dunes” throughout the area. A little over two feet fell during that blizzard, but some are saying that this year’s snowfall tops ’93’s simply because it came all at once (compared to ’93 when the snow accumulated over a few days -- taking it’s time like my niece as she attempts to eat three green beans).

Although the white stuff came fast, it brought the area to an economic halt. Nearly every store was closed, thus creating an instant holiday! Shopaholics were out of luck. It was nice to stay home. It was nice to shovel the driveway with my wife, and it was nice to take photos of each other outside, and it was… well, it was all very nice.

And even though many of us (including myself) struggled to either fill shifts or travel home, it was a blessing to spend a day or two without going out and being bombarded with the billboards, restaurants and mobile gadgets that make today’s America. Unfortunately it took a state-wide emergency for some of us to realize this.

Perhaps a few more snow falls like this and everyone will once again appreciate life away from the noise. It’s just too damn loud anymore.

The Predicament

They call me The Predicament. I’m borderline mentally challenged, but I look really good. At night, I like to walk around Jersey shore carnivals with dimwits who look a lot like me. We make fun of people who ain’t like us. We’re tan, tone and tacky. Sometimes we fight people. I run more oil through my hair than I do across my bread while I eat spaghetti. The “Jersey Shore” show inspired me to bring out all the dumb Italian that I have. Do you have any Italian in you? Do you want some, baby?



That’s what I would probably say if I was succumbing to this invasion of “The Jersey Shore.” It looks as though New Jersey is shaping up to be the new West Virginia (if it hasn’t already).

But while everyone “makes fun” of this group and their now famous “fist-pumping” and stupid nicknames, it’s only a matter of time before people start to adopt this behavior as their own.
I saw this same thing happen in high school. The “skater kids” made fun of rap and “thug life” so much that it became their norm. They listened to rap and started to talk “gangsta” talk. I laughed at them every day, for they became what they had once stood against. Dumb kids totally under the influence… of the media.

So when I see these people punching the air like half-ass Arsenio Halls, I’m taken back to the high school confusion of teasing a culture and eventually accepting it.

Jeez… you don’t think anyone will accept this, do you?

The Name of the Game

My wife, Laura, participated in commencement yesterday and received her long-awaited Master’s Degree with a concentration in non-profit management. During the months leading up to the day, Laura was waffling over the idea of going through the whole ceremony. She saw it as a waste of money to buy a cap, gown and hood that she would wear only once. (As if “wearing it only once” was a real excuse. I mean, what about that expensive wedding dress?)

So after much debate (and after I wrote a check for the regalia), Laura decided to go through with it. Sure it was a pain in the ass to find parking in Oakland, but it’s not every day that you graduate… with a Master’s. I’m just so very proud of her!

“Education is the name of the game,” is what my grandfather used to tell me. And it’s true. Education can really enhance your life, but not too many people know (or at least admit) that education can also distance you from others – sometimes creating an economic and/or social gap. This is an idea I’ve been exploring for a few years now and it’s the basis for the book I hope to write one day.

I would like to explore this and other theories on education in future posts. Perhaps this is the direction I’m heading.

With Bells On

Today, I overheard someone say they will be at work tomorrow… with bells on. I thought, "I too intend to come to work with my bells on," but they are currently at the cleaners. I’m hoping to have them back before Monday.

Okay, that wasn’t funny, but it was, of course, poking fun at an old cliché – and I was disappointed when I couldn’t find the phrase in the Dictionary of Clichés (by James Rogers). It’s a neat little reference that explains the origins of those tired sayings. I definitely recommend it to anyone who considers themselves a wordsmith.

Tic Tok -- Your 15 Are Almost Up!

Has anyone heard that “Tik Tok” song from the artist currently known as Kesha? If not, let me sum it up for you: It’s a song about partying all day, every day while being busted by police and making out with guys who look like Mick Jagger. The music video begins with her waking up in a bathtub in a strange house and ends with her passing out in another.

I heard that she bad-mouthed Domino’s Pizza for some reason or another. Perhaps they wouldn’t sponsor her. She released a statement, “effing” the company all over the place. Domino’s released their own statement which said something to the point of “We bet her parents are really proud…” and that her “fifteen minutes are almost up.” (Can anyone verify this or is this just a rumor?)

I certainly hope so. Between this one and Brittany Spears’ threesome song on rotation, it seems that Skank Pop is the genre of the new decade. (I like that term – Skank Pop. I hereby coin the genre.)

See this crap for yourself. It's NOT a parody... at least I don't think it is.