Christmas2Christmas Review

Many writers, bloggers, and entertainment news shows do a Year In Review, which I'm essentially doing now. But since I really need to start at last Christmas to get the big story in, I'm doing a year in review from NOW. This is no 2008 calendar review. And so I present my first annual Christmas2Christmas Review!

I'm calling it the Christmas2Christmas Review because I really wanted to use a title incorporating a number which acts as a word. See, the "2" acts as "to" and connects last Christmas to this Christmas in a really neat way. Additionally it gives me a little visual trick - I can use the 2 with no spaces around it. If I tried it with the word, it would look like ChristmastoChristmas, and then people would ask me if I'm celebrating the new Greek holiday "Christmasto" (kris-MAS-toh) and that would be uncomfortable. My other title ideas were "52 Week Pickup", which is a takeoff on an hilarious card game my parents used to trick us with when we were kids; "My 30th Year: What Have I Done?", which has a more reflective quality and a cute double meaning; and my last choice was "Read My Last 33 Posts", which is just rude.

LAST CHRISTMAS I GAVE YOU MY HEART...
Let's start there. It's been one year since I proposed (SBBEYAS nominee), and in that time you could say...I've been busy. I maintained the engagement, got married, and now have two wonderful children, 9 and 7. It took some real parenting to raise rapidly aging kids in just one year, but we did fine and they seem to have a well adjusted life. After the new year, we're shopping for colleges!

Weddings were a theme of the past year, and they helped me rack up the frequent flier miles: Matt Murray's wedding in Northampton, MA in March; Josh Pepper's wedding in June back home in G.R., which ended with a lost wallet (SBBEYAS nominee); my cousin Beth Ann's wedding in G.R. a few weeks later over the 4th of July weekend, which gave Annie and me our only cottage trip of the year; and finally, our wedding in Chicago. Of the 4 weddings, mine was the best because I got to go on the Honeymoon.

We visited Chicago multiple times this year, including an early wedding planning session in January where we tried to get some amateur engagement photos. Problem was, it was -93 degrees (with the windchill) that weekend and smiling for pictures meant your face would freeze that way. But we picked our reception site and surveyed a couple other locations. We also hit Chicago in May, in August for our wedding, and at the end of October for a mini-vacation with Annie, after I finished nearly 3 straight weeks of travel for work, which included a stop in Chicago.

I turned 30 this year (5 months and 5 days after my wife did). In related stories, my company went bankrupt and emerged, and our house started falling apart. Seriously, as I'm writing this, I'm waiting for the plumber to come to fix our 2nd faulty shower of the year. The past two nights I spent time Gorilla Gluing pieces of our stone tile countertop back together, which involved moving the dishwasher out - not something I do every day. Last week I spider-bombed our basement, and in order to safely fill your basement with toxic fog blasters, you have to turn off things called "pilots". Apparently, both our water heater and furnace have them. Luckily I read that instruction before I did the fog thingy, so our house didn't explode. I have to admit though, that whole process caused me incredible anxiety. First, I had to deal with the fear that I would improperly stop/start the gas pilot functions. They put very strong wording on those labels that say "IF YOU SMELL ANY GAS WHATSOEVER IMMEDIATELY LEAVE THE PREMISES AND DO NOT LIGHT A MATCH LIKE YOU DO WHEN YOU SMELL GAS IN YOUR BATHROOM". Secondly, my brain envisioned legions of spiders sensing their impending doom and scrambling from all corners and cracks in the basement to jump on my head and neck as I ran upstairs to let the killer fog do its work. Blessedly, I saw not a single arachnid and haven't since. In summary, turning 30 for me meant a lot more housework, and our house is certainly obliging. My body actually feels fine, and I'm in decent shape after spending more time in the gym the past 2 months than I had in the past year. That's not a cry for help, right? "Hey, after 29 years without a single shred of desire to lift heavy metal bars, I think I'll start lifting heavy metal bars and grunting more!"

ARE YOU GOING TO TALK ABOUT SPORTS?
Well, duh. The best moment was clearly Lloyd Carr's final game with Michigan. A high scoring battle with Florida, a bowl win, lots of winged helmets in the air - a great way to start 2008! Little did we know it would be the only positive Michigan football story of the entire year, and maybe the next few. I made my first attempt at a Super Bowl ad review on my blog in February, revealing the fact that since I never have a team to care about in the Super Bowl, I'm now in that group of people that finds the commercials more interesting than the game. The Pistons won a whole bunch of games again, and ran out of gas in the playoffs again. They seem to be poised to repeat the feat this season, even with the addition of Allen "Practice?" Iverson, who is the reason Detroit traded my favorite dude of this era, Chauncey Billups. I'm further ticked because I have a t-shirt with Chauncey's name/# on it, and I don't want to have to buy new team gear for those days when I really, really need to show how much I love my home teams by wearing shirts. What if we showed our loyalty to, say, hair care products in the same way? "Dude, nice Suave shirt. You jumping off the Dep bandwagon?"

Let's see, what else? The Tigers added a bunch of dudes you've sort of heard of, then did much, much worse. I'm pretty sure the Wings won the Stanley "Stan" Cup but I maybe watched 2 periods of hockey all year, and they were the last 2 periods of the Cup-clinching game. Some fan! If you're in Michigan, the cold and prevalence of ponds just sort of makes you watch more hockey. Here in Utah, hockey takes a major backseat to skiing, the Jazz, and producing children. And back around to Michigan Football which, as we all know, lost to their 3 major rivals (Utah, Toledo, Northwestern) during their worst season EVER. But hey, the basketball team is back, baby! We owe West Virginia half a thank you.

STIZL, WE REALLY WANT TO KNOW WHAT WORDS AND PHRASES YOU WISH WOULD DIE, SINCE NO OTHER PEOPLE THINK TO WRITE ABOUT THAT
Actually, a surprising few columns were available on this subject. Lake Superior Sate University apparently has this topic locked up. Really? We can't do better than that? Harvard, Yale, and Davenport were too busy to put one of these together? [Note: When I researched this, LSSU had their 2008 word list - today, it shows the 2007 version...not sure why. Check back maybe.] Anyway, a few phrases have been bugging the crap out of me, so now I will talk about them, proliferating their existence on the interweb for eternity:

1. "We overcame a lot of adversity" Alternate misuse: "We've had lots of adversity" (generally in sports): Athletes and media love to talk about the momentous hurdles facing teams and individuals in sport, like "the opponent also likes to win" and "sometimes you get owies". I heard a QB from a football-factory powerhouse, who was 11-1 at the time, talk about the "great adversities" they "overcame" to "get to where they were at". Aside from the poor grammar, what great adversity did you face? Losing one game? Injury? Those things affect every single team/individual in all sports in all corners of the earth for all time. Those things are normal, not unusually challenging or contrary or even unlucky!

2. "From Wall Street to Main Street" (politics/media): Uh, yeah - let's go ahead and group all companies, all people, all communities into two convenient groups (which happen to make a clever, poetic phrase). On one hand, "Wall Street" - an actual place, but the idea of which has become completely un-relatable and, frankly, disreputable to most Americans; and on the other hand, "Main Street" - a quaint reference to small town, middle-American communities which is myopic if not condescending. Thanks for this one, Economy!

And the best one of the bunch from LSSU's 2008 list:
3. "It is what it is": This vague phrase is often used when someone totally under qualified is asked to comment on a very specific issue. I'd explain it further but it's just, well, it is...

STIZL'S BLOG BLOG ENTRY OF THE YEAR AS AWARDED BY STIZL
Thanks to all those who commented on their favorite posts, lines, or topics this year. I received over 3 suggestions for the SBBEYAS, a new record! Several posts discussed pants, and those seemed popular. But the runaway winner, and the reason to start this review at Christmas, is...

Ring A Ling.

(wild applause, awwwws from the ladies, groans from the guys...)

WHAT HAVE I LEARNED?
Don't invite Sue to a surprise party.

Also, you absolutely do NOT have to enter microwave times in :05 increments! I don't know why this unwritten law seems to control our actions, but it does. And you don't even have to use only :15 or :30 multiples either. What, like if your oatmeal is set for 1:30 it will be perfect, but 1:26 it's lukewarm soup, and at 1:48 it's burning oat-paste? And think about this: Every time you enter, say, ":30" on the microwave, you waste a ton of energy by moving your finger from the 3 at the top to the 0 at the bottom. Next time, just try hitting ":33". If you're not big into saving fractions of seconds on finger motions, then just do random #s that are near enough to your target time - :47 to reheat your coffee, maybe. It's fun - trust me, you'll feel like you're doing something naughty. And we all know, in today's depressing economy, we need to find elements of fun in the little things, like microwaving or putting on seatbelts (SBBEYAS nominee).

Speaking of the depressing economy, hope you had a Merry Christmas!

Waiting, Wondering, Watching

I'm waiting to get out of here, basically. The Thanksgiving traditions are calling me, competing: "OVEREAT!", "TAKE A NAP!". Annie and I are flying to Grand Rapids on turkey day, but the kids are staying back in SLC with their Grandma. I'm starting to regret not getting them to MI with us. But they'll have fun. We will too.

I'm wondering, however, what air travel will be like on Thursday. Hopefully the weather cooperates, for one. But holidays generally mean Family Travel, and I'm much more fond of Business Travel. Business Travel days usually include a few obnoxious bluetooth wearing loud-talkers, but mostly quiet laptop tapping and USA Today "reading" (looking at the colorful graphs), along with fairly efficient movement through the airport. Now, I have a family and I enjoy travelling with them, but I don't necessarily like travelling with other families on Family Travel days. No offense to you, other families - I've heard you have a fantastic game night - but the chaos of many, many children and inexperienced airport security victims frazzles my nerves and tests my patience. Hopefully, I'll be too tired to notice since we'll be leaving the house at about 4:30 am.

What I won't be watching this Thursday is the Lions game. I know, I read the Free Press and it is not blacked out. Mercifully, I will still be on the plane until about the 3rd quarter, and by the time I make it to the parents' house it'll be all over but the Turducken eating. Maybe it's because I've been in central Illinois on most Thanksgivings in my life, but I'm not that excited about the whole Lions game tradition this year. Sure, in the past I'd find the TV to catch a bit of Barry Sanders or Herman Moore or... uh... that other Lions player who scored so many touchgoals. Or maybe it's because my Michigan Wolverines are done before Thanksgiving for the first time in my life and the football buzz is gone. Wait, Grand Valley is still undefeated and playing on Saturday - that may be just the ticket for me. Or maybe it's an event of an entirely different sort that will make the weekend memorable. But now I'm just rambling. Either way, I'm happy to be heading home to Michigan.

Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving and don't skimp on the mashed potatoes.

The Kids

Annie and I have had a longer than normal stretch of days with the kids. Based on a somewhat informal custody arrangement, the kids are normally with their paternal grandmother every other weekend, and most Friday nights in between. The past several weeks, grandma has been away or busy, and had actually taken the kids more often the weeks prior due to my travel schedule, so we were basically catching up.

It shouldn't be a big deal, because we're the parents and this is our house and this is where the kids live. But wow, it feels exhausting lately. Two other factors: one, the weather turned, and it is no longer normal for the kids to be outside with friends in our complex all afternoon - so that means indoors, and needing structure and attention (and snacks); and two, Annie was out of town Mon-Fri last week. So I got the Mr. Mom treatment pretty good. My nerves were frayed a bit last weekend, and I snapped at Preston Sunday night - by Tuesday, I flipped out on Zoey, too. Not surprisingly, the kids were better behaved the rest of the week.

So yesterday came as a relief. I got to watch Michigan WIN (yes WIN!), relaxing in my room while the kids cleaned rooms and Annie caught up on laundry. I joined in the organizational fray once the Wolverines were wrapping it up, putting up a new shelf in Preston's room. For a sort of fun family day, and as an early birthday present for Pres, we planned a lunch at his choice of restaurant, swimming and diving at the rec center pool, trip to Dairy Queen, and we'd let the kids "make" dinner at home later that night. Training Table was the restaurant of choice. For the non-Utahans, it's a sit down burger joint, where you order from a telephone at the table. It reminds me of Russ' as a kid, or Mr. Burger in terms of food. So we had big sloppy burgers and some great cheese fries.

The pool we go to has a diving board and high dive, so we had fun challenging each other to jump, twist, and dive. I burned some of those fries off swimming laps and chasing the kids around the shallow play pool. A few minutes in the hot tub and sauna completed the therapy, and it was off to DQ for treats.

Dinner was stir fry, with the kids acting as wait staff and serving us plates and drinks. Pretty funny. They did a good job. We were then treated to a "concert" - the kids trying their best to sing or lip sync High School Musical songs - or worse, this "Naked Brothers Band" that Preston likes - and faking the keyboard and drums. An entertaining half hour show, and we captured it on video. Miraculously, the kids were in their beds by 7:30 and Annie and I finally got some peace and quiet. But the busy day and pool exertion had bested me, and I was dozing on the couch myself by 8:30.

Today, everyone was up early. I woke up to the sound of Preston running the bath, and seemingly making as much noise as possible. Zoey followed by entering our room to tell us that Preston was splashing water all over the bathroom. Half of Zoey's life is spent asking to have what Preston has, or do what Preston's doing, or telling on Preston if he's doing something naughty or which she wishes she could be doing - which are generally the same things.
I'm hoping to catch a little NFL and hit the gym today, and this afternoon we're off to Annie's Mom's for dinner and celebrating Preston's birthday with the fam.

This is the end of a full couple of weeks, filled with last minute dinners, multi-leg trips from work to daycare to gym to Z's dance class to picking up our truck from the shop, frequent tears (Preston tripped me on the stairs!) and protests (No I didn't!), one episode of puking, homework and reading help, play-wrestling that starts with giggles and always, always, always ends with Zoey's tears and Preston's protests (I didn't do anything!).

But I always remember that Annie's been doing this on her own for years, and I compare my responsibilities to those of my last few years as a bachelor in Michigan, and I realize this is right where I want to be. It's family life and it's challenging and fulfilling and we learn something new every day. So that's a snapshot of life as a Stepdad in my house.

Did I mention Michigan actually won?!

A segway [sic] to class discrimination

Whilst travelling for work last month, I viewed a story on CNN about a man whose condo complex was going to deny him the use of his Segway! (If you didn't know, I love dudes riding Segways, especially cops.) Fortunately for all of us, they came to their senses. Initially, the condo management claimed the rolling wonder of physics "endangered lives", but they "failed to prove their case". Apparently, their attempts to throw people in front of the old dude's ride caused nothing but tread burns and husky apologies. Stanley Blumenthal: Jubilant!

In other news, I had several funny moments on a Continental flight from Newark to Chicago a few weeks ago (air travel story...big surprise). Most of you know that many airlines are charging $15 for any checked bag now. And most of the airlines that are charging $15 for a checked bag call it the "first checked bag charge", or simply "checked bag charge". We get it - we're being charged to give you the suitcase which, by law, cannot be taken on the plane with us. Fine.

But not Continental. Continental Airlines not only takes your $15, but they cause you to examine your life and all its mistakes and confusion. The official name for the charge?

"Excess Baggage Fee"

I am not making this up. This fee is not for your 2nd, 3rd, or eleventeenth bag. For your first bag. Your one and only suitcase, maybe. But you should pay for that one suitcase, as it is clearly and in all contrast to proper travel decorum, excessive. And you should be reminded of that fact in print.

"How's that new passenger, Continental? Your relationship growing?"
"Yeah, Delta, I guess so. He's pretty great - sits where he's assigned, always finds an efficient space for his carryon in the overhead compartment, keeps his iPod volume at a respectful level. But he's got some...baggage."

If you peruse Continental's website, the "excess baggage" term simply applied to heavy/oversize bags in the past, and the fine was much more for those indiscretions. But the gadget in their system that applies fees and prints your receipt for you wasn't worth changing, I guess, so your check-in screen and receipt are there to remind you of all the burdens and toiletries you're lugging along in this crazy, mixed up world.

As if this wasn't enough, I then had to endure an actual case of class discrimination by Continental's award winning cabin staff, North America's best. Maybe I was more sensitive to the situation than normal. I was, after all, engrossed in Sinclair's The Jungle, empathetic to Jurgis's unending struggle against the corporate machine and all its political and social injustice. It came down to the one simple amenity that even airlines haven't chopped: The Lavatory. I had patiently waited through some turbulence, and finally the seat belt sign was off. I looked back to the tail of the airplane (I was in row 7, just 5 rows back from the small First Class section) to see a small line gathered near the lavatories - both occupied - as well as the clattering beverage carts being prepared for service. Earlier at the airport, I had downed an afternoon coffee as well as a bottle of water, but was in a hurry-up mode once I reached the gate, and boarded without making a pit stop.

Boldly, I stepped through the curtain separating Coach from the First Class section. And really - do airlines need to patronize us by calling our section "Coach"? Like we're duped into thinking our rigid, leg-roomless, disease-carrying fabric-wrapped seats are some sort of hired transport in the olden days? Anyway, the forward lavatory is clearly empty, and I'm clearly going to use it.

The forward attendant, a foot shorter than I, literally steps in front of me and says, "Sir, would you mind using the rear lavatories?"
"Yes, I would. It's busy and the carts are going to block me anyway."
"No, I see that the carts are still being prepared. You'll have time to get back to your seat."

I really wanted to come up with a smart, sure, even aggressive statement to get by her, but all I mustered was a roll of the eyes and a quick turn. At this point, I noticed my surroundings - a grand total of EIGHT people in this section, all occupied in the Wall Street Journal or sleeping, and one lavatory, vacant. My churning brain did some quick 737 math, and realized there were about 140 people in Coach for the two lavatories there. 8:1 vs. 70:1. This operation would've taken me no more than a minute, and not one of the people would've even noticed!

I shuffled my way down to the rear and, of course, had to step into a vacant seat (whose occupant was in line for the lavatory) to let the beverage cart by. GRRRRRR! And more of coursely, upon my return, had to ask the beverage cart wranglers to push it up a few rows so I could get into my seat. As I was standing there, I shot that forward attendant's eyes the nastiest glance I could generate, which unfortunately appeared to her as nothing but a calming field of blue ice. (nothing I can do about that, right ladies?)

All the fees, fares, taxes, and leg cramps in the world can be explained and even understood by this traveller. But lavatory restrictions based on your seat assignment when all logic and circumstance show a better solution? Sheer madness.

I'd like to apologize for the overuse of links in the first paragraph, especially for a silly story about a Segway, a vehicle which I have never commandeered, despite my distant fascination.

Some recent pics

I've been a bad updater of late, though my little notebook of potential blog subjects is loaded. Just one of those times where life, work, kids, and home are enough to fill my time and then some.

Check out the pics, including me on a Wheaties box and lots of cute kids. Click on the little word bubble to see the captions.

Where's Stizl?

Well, I'm in Orlando now, and leave for Baltimore tomorrow. But first a little rewind. As predicted, last week ended much better than it began. Chicago proved a fantastic host in many ways, and ORD couldn't even dampen the trip. We had a large group from corporate for the Chicago meeting on Thursday, so Wednesday was Big Dinner time. Went to Gibson's, near ORD. AWESOME steak. Plus, one of our field personnel swore up and down that Martin Scorsese was in the restaurant. It was totally not him, but it was funny watching her talk herself into it. Something about that Wednesday dinner and socializing led us into a great meeting on Thursday. Chicago's franchisees can be a tough crowd for our company, but we handled them well. I really hit my stride as a presenter/facilitator during my hour of the meeting, even dropping a personal anecdote about my wedding (awwww). Seriously though, just chatting about anything other than the content of the meeting helps me relax, and then I cover the content better, too.

[aside]
I haven't watched much of the MLB playoffs, but with only a few highlights last night and currently glancing at the 1st inning of the ALCS, I have seen nothing but Tampa Bay Rays' batters smashing huge home runs over the Green Monster. What happened to home field advantage, Chowds?
[end]

Thursday night provided a new Chicago experience of EPIC proportions. Dave & Heidi (my bro- and sis-in-law) -- well, mostly Dave -- decided it was time to welcome me to the world of Gene & Jude's, a strangely famous hot dog stand. Yes, hot dog stand. I can't consider it a restaurant, even though it had 4 walls and a ceiling. This place was a tin can with a neon sign, a potato cutter, and a line of 8 fryers. It is nothing but those skinny Vienna hot dogs & fries (well, tamales too, but I wasn't in the mood). And NO ketchup. For each ketchup you ask for, they kill you.

On Dave's advice, I went with 2 double dogs with everything and a Coke. This is the great part: the dogs come piled with the fries on top. So you order 2 dogs, and you also get 2 orders of fries! This should be standard in any restaurant! And you must eat them all together, the fries essentially a condiment for the hot dogs, smashed into the bun. I started picking fries off the top of the first one, and Dave almost backhanded me for insulting the G&J culture. I guess it's like ordering philly cheese steaks in Philly - you gotta know the culture. So I crushed those 2 double dogs, standing at the counter like a champ.

I just realized that I had 2 distinct dinners in Chicago, and I spent 200 more words on the hot dog stand than on the critically adored steakhouse. Such is life.

Orlando hasn't been that interesting - hot & muggy & rainy. So-so meeting, sort of dull. But the biggest thing is it's only Tuesday, and it feels like I've been gone a week again already. The weekend was nice (time with the wife, beers with the boys, didn't watch Michigan lose to the Toledo Rocket-football team), but it flew by, and heading to the airport again early Monday was miserable. I just want this week to be done, so I can go home for the weekend...again...and leave on Monday again...

Schmotel

How can the littlest amenities become wondrous luxuries? When a hotel fails to meet even the most basic of those needs and lets you walk across the street to another hotel! We held our meeting at a hotel in Romulus, near DTW (Detroit airport). I think its exact location was Runway B3. Anyway, this hotel worked out very well last April, and it has a great banquet room. Unfortunately, within 5 minutes of checking in I had deduced that about 80% of the TV channels were blank and their free internet service was down. We were assured it would be fixed, and went to the hotel restaurant for dinner -- a group of 6 of us. Apparently they were only expecting 4 patrons for the entire night, because they ran out of french fries and turkey - on just our table. And only 1 guy ordered turkey.

This hotel was operating on fumes.

Fortunately, the Courtyard by Marriott across the way had rooms, and that's where things got back to good. Functioning television, immediate internet connection, smiling front desk staff who provided chilled bottled water (fancy!), those great Speakman shower heads, a comfortable bed and pillows, on and on. Are these things necessities? No, but I'm a business traveller this week, and when all the fun and games are done, I need to check email and watch stuff. That's it. That's all.

To the other hotel's credit, our meeting room was accommodating, functioning, and lunch was actually quite good. They even had sliced turkey. Maybe it was because we gave them a dinner tab or had a banquet room booked, but we were alarmed at how casually they let us check out and move to another hotel last night -- no questions, no attempt at concession, no timetable for hiring a network controller. Oh well.

Off to Chi-town tomorrow. Better hotel and better food culture. I'm expecting improvement...at least until O'Hare gets involved. Good night then!

Seatbelt update

If you haven't read about the Seatbelt Shot, consider yourself lucky. It hit me last week that I hadn't tried it since then, so after I picked the kids up from daycare the other day, I tried it about 5 or 6 times -- never got close. The kids also thought I had suddenly become entirely inept, mechanically speaking. (In reality, I'm only MOSTLY mechanically inept).

It just proves that the Seatbelt Shot is something to be admired and treasured. Feared even.

6 Cities in 18 Days

Time to hit the road again. This time I'll be facing groups of franchisees who will be demanding answers and explanations for our company's bankruptcy (which they are emerging from...), and who are facing a bleak retail season. Can't wait! Should be nothing but laughs and hugs. I'm also not looking forward to the extended time away from the wife and kids (I love saying that). At least I have the weekends, and a regular trip to Chicago for fun/family time at the end of it all.

Just for kicks, and since I have already scheduled some visits for friends in various cities, here's a glance at my itinerary:

Mon. Oct. 6: Detroit...

Wed. Oct. 8: ...to Chicago

Fri. Oct. 10: Back home

Mon. Oct. 13: Orlando...

Wed. Oct. 15: ...to Baltimore

Fri. Oct. 17: Back home

Mon. Oct. 20: Cleveland...

Wed. Oct. 22: ...to Newark...

Thurs. Oct. 23: ...to Chicago again (for fun, not work!)

We're not regionally assigned at the corporate office, but due to scheduling needs, my marketing co-worker has San Fran, Phoenix, St. Louis, Dallas, Los Angeles, and Seattle. I'm not complaining though, I mean, I get way more frequent flier miles.

I'm hoping a few good stories are dropped in my lap as I will have some time to blog in the various hotels and airports. My Stepdad-themed blog has yet to get off the ground as I couldn't figure out how to attach the URL I bought to the blogger format. I also haven't had time to design it. So that's going really well.

The Seatbelt Shot

I have a pair of jeans with pretty tight hip pockets. This story ends with a call to action, so hang in there. I also have a mobile phone which I keep in my pocket most times - I don't have one of those clip things. I've had those belt clips before with 2 other phones, and they both broke. They both broke in the same way, too. Getting into the car. They would somehow catch on the edge of the seat or on the seatbelt buckle as I sat down, and it would snap the clip off. They should make mobile phone belt clips stronger.

I like to call them mobile phones lately, not 'cell phones'. I know that 'cell' is really short for 'cellular', but I don't know what 'cellular' means in relation to the phone. Does it mean it's a living, breathing thing? Mobile phone makes much more sense, because the key benefit of mobile phones is that you can take them with you. Well, that's the original key benefit. Now the key benefits of mobile phones are the ability to play music or set your lineup for fantasy football (nerd alert!).

Anyway, I was driving the other day and my phone was really uncomfortable in my tight hip pockets, and I wanted to get it out. Actually, I can't say if the phone itself was experiencing any discomfort, but my hip certainly was. But due to the tightness of the jeans and the lap portion of the seatbelt, I couldn't get it out. So at the next stop light, I unbuckled quick and pulled the mobile phone out.

The light turned green, and I quick shoved the phone into the cup holder and resumed driving. I'm a left handed driver, by which I mean I steer 95% of the time with only my left hand. I grew up driving stick shifts, so my right hand was often shifting gears and I was 'left' with only one hand free to steer. (I apologize for that horrible use of single quotation marks.) Also, steering with both hands is something only done by driving instructors, and driving students.

Needless to say, I needed to buckle up again. And this is when the cool thing happened. The cool thing happened, and I'm sure it has happened many times before, but for some reason I thought about how cool it was this time. I'm steering with my left hand, and my right hand reaches under the left arm, grabs the seatbelt, and in one swift motion, my eyes up on the road ahead, shoots the seat belt directly into the buckle. CLICK.

"Big deal", right? But think about it. Seatbelt buckles are generally perched on the end of a semi-rigid piece of plastic, or sometimes just on thick vinyl material. The flat part on the belt-portion of the buckle obviously must go squarely into the buckle. How do we do this without even looking, much less in a quick one-shot pull? Think of the spatial variance between where the belt is mounted and where the buckle happens to be angled that day. What if your hand bumps your hip on the way down? Even worse, what if you smash your hand into the buckle and pitch the fat part of your hand into the buckle? Now stop thinking about those things, and go take a drive. And unbuckle your seatbelt at a traffic light. Then, because you instinctively fear being unbuckled in your vehicle for even one second because of the Click It or Ticket campaign, go for it:

The Seatbelt Shot

A moral lesson from the can

WARNING: This post contains material of an awkward subject. I would encourage you not to form visual images of me. But since I just said that, I know you will. So enjoy that.

Most public men's rooms have a particular stall layout - one or several skinny, minimum space stalls whose doors open inward, and then one larger wheelchair-accessible (W.A.) stall whose door opens outward. Generally, the W.A. stall is furthest from the door, tucked in a corner. Dudes can be weird about using stalls. Some prefer space and comfort in order to properly relax while some prefer a sort of quiet anonymity, dreading that some other man may be aware that they, too, endure working bodily functions. The W.A. stall can satisfy both preferences, at times.

I was guilty of using the roomier, corner-located W.A. stall at work sometimes, for whatever reason. Regardless, it struck me recently that it would be rude and potentially disastrous if I was occupying said stall at a time when someone who truly needed the clearance and support rail entered the bathroom. This seemingly obvious scenario made its rude entry into my mind while I was using the stand up potty, and a gentleman in our office came in with a walker and two braces on his feet. I knew this man from around the office, but was not aware of his situation on a personal level. Needless to say, I swore a silent oath that I would never use the handicapped stall on this floor, in this building, ever again. It is not for me.

The story doesn't end there. Like I said, I didn't know the man on a personal level. He was gone from the office for quite some time, but I didn't notice. One day, I was playing the bowling video game on my phone (that's what I do when I'm toilet bound), and I hear the men's room door open. Normally, that is followed by footsteps and the familiar sounds of relief, flushing, washing, the auto-towel motor, and annoying small talk about how weird the last employee meeting was. This time, there were no footsteps... but I did see a wheelchair's wheel roll by under the door of my narrow stall. Later that day, I see the man in the wheelchair, and it was that man who previously had two braces on his feet. Now he only had one brace on his feet, primarily because he only had one remaining foot! I find out that the infections that were causing his foot pain and problems had gotten so bad, that amputation was the only remedy.

Thank goodness for the startling epiphany I experienced weeks earlier. Imagine the discourtesy I would have done by occupying the one and only wheelchair accessible stall, that very day, in that very place, denying a man who recently lost his foot the access he needed! Before you judge my description and discussion of the man's unfortunate situation, realize that he had the grace and humor with his new found structure to show up for a pirate-themed employee meeting (see what I mean?) wearing an upside down plunger that was painted black and duct-taped to his knee as a peg leg! AWESOME.

The lesson here is that certain things are in place for a reason. People who need a little extra room, a little closer space, a lift, a support bar, whatever - they really need it! And some of us have strange, selfish agendas (like video bowling with more elbow room) that need to be sacrificed for the good of mankind. Bottom line: Don't park in their spaces, and don't s#!t in their stalls.

It says 'sit'- my keyboard had a malfunction...

Look who's 30, too

Yep, that's right. My 30th birthday is here, and I've begun my 4th decade on earth. Upon waking up this morning, I immediately suffered vision deterioration, "the arthritis" in my hands, and left a pile of hairs on my pillow - hooray aging! To celebrate, I changed some things on my blog. Added a few 'gadgets' along the right side (including Follower - if you're hip to the feature, please show me some love). I also added a Dictionary.com gadget to the bottom (in case you have trouble with any of my big words - ha ha). But seriously, I love Dictionary.com.

Annie is taking me to Spencer's tonight, a fabulous steakhouse in town. I'll be wearing some new big boy clothes she bought me at a mall-based clothing store featuring pictures of men wearing jeans cut for teenage girls. But she didn't buy me those jeans, just some super-sweet pants (PANTS!) and a shirt & tie or two. Tomorrow, I celebrate a little more (I hope) with a Michigan beatdown of Notre Dame followed by a little Utah family party.

Today, my work friends got me a card and some delicious cake, and I got myself a plastic fork, and then I ate the cake (NOM-NOM).

Other good news: My Dad is in fine form after some old-guy surgery, and our family is grateful for all the kind words, prayers, and support. And Happy Birthday to my Mom on Sunday!

Adventure of the Seas

Some pics and short narration of the HONEYMOON

Thankfully, not Ohio

I returned to work this week with mild anxiety about how the Ute fans would shower me with mockery and the sort of glib self-satisfaction that only surfaces for really important life events, like college football. But I quickly realized something: Utah is not Ohio.

Let me explain.

Were the Ute fans at the office proud of their win? Yes. Did they leave a not-so-subtle reminder on my desk before I even arrived at the office Monday? Yes. But here's the thing: They're generally nice people. They really can't be mean about 'their' win over 'my' team. They value other things in life more than football, like Ski Swaps and really good moisturizer. I even hung out with a few Ute fans after the game, and they were like "tough game, man it was really close, Utah is a really good team, Michigan would have beaten them if they played later in the year"... They were trying to make me feel better!? Who does that? Not Ohio.

Let's turn this around. Are Ohioans proud of winning? Like it's their only hope in life. Do Ohioans leave subtle reminders of victory? Subtle like charred living room furniture and effigial figures. They're generally not gracious in victory, and flat out mean in defeat. They value nothing in life more than Buckeye football, not even gun shows or free cigarette day. So thanks, Utah, for going easy on me. And good luck, Michigan, against Miami(Ohio) this week. And don't be fooled - those Miami(Ohio) fans may be alumni or family of players, but you can bet they're Buckeyes in Redhawks clothing, so keep a wary eye.

GO BLUE

People out here think Go Blue means something about BYU?

Welcome to big-boy football, Utah.

So listen - tomorrow is an important day. I am living in the heart of Utah, and by heart I mean the only actual city of note (with all due respect to Magna), Salt Lake City, the home of the Utah "Utes". Yes, they are really called the Utes. It is not even short for anything - like "Utility Worker", for example (all due respect to utility workers). Utes is one of the more clever mascot names in all of sports, if you ask nobody.

I write to all my fellow Michigan fans out there: Oh ye of the maize & blue blood! Even though my beloved wife sort-of-kind-of supports my support of Michigan, and does not claim any allegiance to the “U”, I am somewhat isolated. So, on this first Saturday of the season when you cheer the Wolverines, think of your son/brother/cousin/friend also, in enemy territory, hoping and praying he does not have to return to the office on Tuesday in shame. For he has worn the maize & blue to work on this football Friday, carrying around a mug with Block M, showing off the mini-helmet and national championship Pepsi can from 1997 (sadly it’s empty, in more ways than one).

Although I show those things off always, because I’m weird like that, it is of greater importance tomorrow. In this City of Salt, a Lake, and super-dry skin due to lack of humidity, I hope to stand tall and represent my home, Michigan, my team, Michigan, and proclaim “Hail to the Victors!” so it may echo up and down the valley. Also, give me a call on Saturday, so we can talk some big-boy football.

GO BLUE!

Stepping Up

I've been working on a concept for a new blog about being a Stepdad. I'm trying to develop it into more of a general public concept than a personal outlet. I have a URL purchased with a clever (I think) name and the first 2 or 3 entries mostly written.

Since I started this blog, I've received several comments from family and friends on my writing style and ability, and I've been very flattered and appreciate the feedback. For this Stepdad concept, I'd love to hear your thoughts - do you know of any blogs similar to that? If written anonymously and for a general audience will it be interesting to read (espeically for other Stepdads)? And if any of you (Charon, Exuberman) have some insight into how to best link up with similar interests and generate traffic, as well as build upon the basic formatting of Blogger or work with HTML to make it look, well, professional, that would be helpful too.

Any input is appreciated! I hope to get it off the ground by Oct 1.

Wedding photos and memories

I just have a quick minute on my lunch break, but wanted to get our wedding photos out there. This link will take you to the photographer's "Favs" - the site has a ton of pics, so if you navigate away and want to get back to the concise selection, go to "Thumbnails" and click on "KMO Favs".

Lowlights (get them out of the way):
Heidi's car accident
Mom's slip and fall and stitches (OUCH!)
Huge liquor bottles in the park from the bums

Highlights from the weekend in Chicago:
Heidi and Mom are both okay
Bums were rousted out by our secret patrol, the Sonnenberg Boys (ooooh, scary!)
Weather was perfect, park was beautiful
Tigers won on Thursday
Mardi Gras party on Friday
My hot wife
Dave & Matt narration of video
Brad & Heidi's toasts were awesome
Bryce's ceremony message was perfect
Eating myself in cookie form
Slideshow memories
My hot wife
Dancing with Zoey
Preston in sunglasses, then with tie around head
Leaving it all for the Caribbean!

Thanks to all who helped make it a perfect wedding. We both appreciate it.

So Long Sweet Singleness

The next time I post will be the first time as Mr. Annie Sonnenberg - er Gingrich? Which makes this my last post as "Technically, the Bachelor of the Year" (TBOY) as awarded by several of my friends' wives. Don't read too much into that.

In less than 48 hours, I'll be arriving in Chicago toting a suitcase full of clothes, a grown up suit, a swimsuit, some shoes, more sandals, a Tigers hat, and the shattered memories of eternal singleness and irresponsibility. Just kidding - this year has already proven that I was never meant for that life. We're getting hitched on Saturday, and off to the Caribbean on Sunday - cruising via San Juan P.R. to Curacao, St. Maarten, Aruba and other places I've never spelled before. Hopefully, the only hurricanes we come across are the ones in tall glasses - HUZZAH! It's a joke fest tonight - anyone else hear crickets?

We took some engagement photos a couple months ago in Chicago - the photog's blog has a few of them posted. I, of course, ruined the best one by having my eyes closed. But look at those groovy jeans I was wearing!

I am quite excited to get to it, and get it done, and celebrate with my family and friends. I couldn't invite everyone I would've liked to due to size limitations and the, ahem, large extended family of Sonnenbergs (I love you all!), but I hope to be better about catching up with everyone when I'm back from the sea. Au revoir!

Important Wallet Update

Disaster averted! But it did not come without a bit of tension. Having rescheduled my flight to 1pm Monday, I had some time to hunt down my wallet. As I mentioned in my last post, I was 99% sure it was in the returned tux bag, either in the pants pocket or inside coat pocket. The store opened at 10am, so my Mom and I drove there around 9:30 to see if they would open up early for us.

[aside]
As we are walking to car, Mom says, in all sincerity, "Do you want to drive?"
I notice she is not making a joke, so I say, "Well, I don't have my wallet or ID, but..."
We laugh.
[end aside]

The nice man at the store sees me peering through the glass doors, trying to get his attention. My Dad and I both had left voice mails with the store late the night prior, letting them know my plight. I had not received a return phone call yet.
"Can I help you sir?"
"I know you're not open yet, but I left a voice mail. I think I left a personal item in my tuxedo bag, which was returned yesterday. Are they still here?"
"We had about 160 tuxedos returned yesterday. But yes, they're still here. Come on in."
Nice of me to try and gain entrance by simply saying, "I left a voice mail." As if phoning first should give us all access to any private business. He leads me to the backroom, where there are 4 or 5 racks of tuxes. I hand him the ticket from my purchase, and he shows me what number I'm looking for. None of the tuxes have names on them anymore.

I rummage through two racks, and find my number at the end of the 2nd. "Here it is" I announce. I zip open the bag and begin patting and digging in the coat and pants. No wallet. I check the bottom of the bag in case it fell out of the hanging pants. No wallet. The shirt does not have a pocket.

I can't believe it! If the wallet isn't here, I have no clue where it is - maybe left at the cottage (1.5 hour drive one-way) or maybe lost at the pub. But I don't believe in my heart that is the case. The man says, "Why don't you check the shoe compartment in the bag?" Yeah right. But desperate, I zip it open. I quickly deduce that the bag of accessories I placed in the shoe compartment is not there. Seconds later, I realize the shoes were not the ones I wore at all - size 10. I'm a 12. This isn't my bag! But wait, if it matches my ticket, what happened to my bag?!

Since my buddy AJ returned it together with his, maybe the tickets got messed up, we think. So we just start scrambling through that same rack, looking for another powder blue vest-tie combo. Success! Okay, I know this is my bag, I can tell by the musky smell. Coat first - no wallet. Pants pocket - Yes! There it is! Everything in it!

Whew. I made it with time to spare. After visiting the Mrs. Fields at Rivertown, getting a delicious frozen cappuccino drink, and saying hi to the manager, my Mom and I browse Barnes & Noble for a while before heading to the airport, where I could present my driver's license proudly and head home.

Oh, and Josh's wedding was pretty sweet, too. More on that later?

I am an Idiot

It's been almost a month and I have plenty to blog about, but the reason I'm up at 12:24 am EST (I'm in Michigan) is because I just now realized I lost my wallet, and I have an 8:30 flight scheduled for tomorrow morning to get me back home. This morning, I packed up the rental tux I wore on Saturday for Josh's wedding, dropped it off to AJ's house, since the store wouldn't open until later, and I was off to the cottage with my sister and parents. I had no need for my wallet, and it never came into my consciousness today. I simply grabbed a swimsuit and book and planned to sleep in the back of the car on the way up - I got in at 1:30 am Sunday morning after a phenomenal party-bus ride, reception, and after hours night cap at C-Pub (woo woo!) And no, I did not leave the wallet there or anywhere else yesterday. It has to be in that stupid tux bag. Here's the rub: they don't open until 10 am, don't have a 24-hr hotline, and who knows if the bag is still even in that location. I imagine they whisk them away to a dry cleaner on the seedier side of town, and encourage the staff to rummage around, since I likely signed away any responsibility to the store on some stupid waiver. Needless to say, I cannot get on a plane without an ID, and I cannot make an 8:30 flight when the store opens at 10. If they actually have my wallet, that is.

Tune in next time to see what the heck happens!

Converging on Chicago

I'm getting married this summer, so you'd think I would have a whole bunch of stuff to write about. Plans, logistics, worries, anticipation, costs, honeymoon... Thing is, Annie has done 94% of the planning and coordinating and decision making, so my thoughts are: She's doing great! Also, both her and my parents are being super generous with their time, money, and help in this deal that I don't want to step on their toes. Yeah, that's it! My jobs have been to work on the website (haven't touched it in a month or so), get a pastor/minister (none yet), and work on Men's apparel (I don't dress like a grown up so this is much harder for me than she realizes). And I secured the park contract for our site - after she chose the site - and it appears I did not secure the ability to play music through speakers, so I need to work on that too.

But this morning, just now, I did look up information on Cook County marriage licenses and figured out how and when we should get one. Bet she hadn't thought about that, huh! Plus her Dad is giving me tickets to the Tigers-White Sox game in Chicago the Thursday before our date, and I've told a few people about that. Let's see, what else... We're going on a cruise for our honeymoon - leaving from San Juan P.R. - so that's going to be sweet. I did buy a new swimsuit and have been doing some sit-ups so she's not embarrassed to be seen with me...

Yeah that's about it. We have a lot to do. Thankfully she is very good at this planning stuff since she used to do it for a living. And she is organized and thoughtful and good at schedules and stuff. Did I mention how beautiful and sweet she is, too? You're doing great, babe! It'll be worth it I swear!

Next weekend we're going to Chicago to do some on-site planning, hang out with her dad & stepmom & brothers, and my parents are coming down from G.R. to hang out, too! Any reason to party in Chicago is a good reason. Weddings especially. Even the planning part.

Big Tuesday Part II

As I sped south down I-15, the valley was growing ever darker and foggier - I couldn't tell if it was a mixture of dust and gray clouds, or actual rain. You can always see weather systems coming and going in this valley, but it was hard to figure this one out. Turns out the wind was the only real concern. The games prior to mine were still being played in what appeared to be a desert sand tornado. The burly outfielders in the "Men's League" were shielding their eyes and turning their backs to the action, just to survive. I kept looking back into the wind to see if there were any church steeples or renegade snowboards hurtling toward me (the Utah version of the movie Twister), but fortunately I was safe. I thought there was no way we'd even get to our game. But I waited it out, and right around 8:00 PM, the winds calmed down, no rain came, and we took the field.

Even now, my throbbing left shoulder and scabby left knee remind me of how I wish the rains would have come, the winds would have persisted, a snowboard missile would have threatened my well-being.

I'm like a lot of dudes in that I think I'm awesome at sports. All of them. Forget actual experience or skill or ability. I've never before played cricket, but if you put me on a field I imagine I'd be a tremendous wicket-keeper or silly mid-on. Since I ran track in Jr. High & High School, I didn't play baseball beyond little league. But in recent years, I've really come to enjoy recreational softball. Co-ed leagues are relaxed and fun, and normally I feel like a 'good' player simply because I'm a reasonably able athlete who is not afraid of getting struck by the ball. I wear a "MTA Pro" ball glove that I found at a park, probably in 5th or 6th grade. It still fits my hand and hasn't fallen apart yet so I don't worry about a new one. I don myself in cleats and batting gloves, as they make me feel cool. The combination of theater and competition in organized sports leads me to exert more effort than my talent or body is willing to support. In softball reality, I'm a terrible hitter, but a pretty good left-fielder (this week). But more than anything, I play really hard. In co-ed softball, for nothing.

My first at bat on Tuesday, I tapped a grounder down the 3rd base line, and sprinted toward first like my hair was on fire. This is normal for me. Since I can barely hit it out of the infield, my best chance at getting on base is to scare the crap out of the girl/guy at first so she/he drops it. This time it was a she. I either beat the throw or she dropped it, can't quite remember, but I made the boneheaded error of turning in toward the infield after I heard "Safe!", which I immediately realized made me a live base runner. I looked, and the girl had the ball, not quite sure what to do. I knew I couldn't return to 1st so I feigned a jog, stopped, looked to see if she would throw or chase, took two small steps, then broke into a full-on bull rush toward second. I gave the 2nd basewoman a crazy-person glare and slid - hard - coming to rest with my left hip on the bag. Safe! I tried to pop up, but my left shoulder wouldn't cooperate. When I slid, left hand down, my weight dropping back must have torqued my arm back and up. I could immediately tell I had aggravated an injury I got about 3 years ago...playing softball. And sliding always has another consequence for me - leg damage. I just can't do it right. I even wear pants in order to avoid major dirt-filled gouges, but sure enough, I could feel my knee had taken a pretty good beating. A couple batters later I scored, and I played the entire game in left, making a number of solid catches and no errors. This pleased me, but by the time I woke up Wednesday morning, I realized why most professional athletes peak around ages 26-30. I'm 29. I'm nearing the end.

The leg damage has been much worse in the past, and actually reminds me of a funny story. In my first year of co-ed, with my old church in Kentwood, MI, I slid into 2nd in shorts - again after getting caught in a base running predicament - leaving my skin behind from mid-shin to knee. I consulted with my mother, a trained nurse and, well, my mom, who recommended soaking the leg in epsom salts to help it heal faster. At the time I was living in this groovy tri-level that I rented with 3 buddies (Houseman!) which had a tub in the upper bathroom. The tub butted up against a dividing wall about 3' high, the toilet on the other side. The tub was never used, and thus had no curtain or door. Wearing a swimsuit, I soaked and soaked, and sloughed off dead skin and dirt and somehow didn't pass out. Standing at the divider end of the tub, with bandage and washcloth in each hand and my left leg propped on the edge, I began dressing my wound. Predictably, my foot slipped off the edge and with no hands free to brace myself, my forehead stopped my forward momentum on the countertop of the divider. So I'm standing there, soaking wet, leg like raw meat, forehead split and bleeding. I looked at myself in the mirror and found comfort in the fact that I had both bandages and a washcloth in my hands, and now had something to take my mind off my searing leg pain.

Anyway, I'm not really that clumsy or injury prone - except for when I fall going UP stairs (Murray will laugh at that one) - but I probably need to slow down at times.

I was going to write a Big Tuesday Part III, which was going to be about the Pistons game I watched on DVR. But they lost - and now they've won Game 2 which was awesome. So that's all I have to say about that.

Big Tuesday Part I

It was Tuesday. A big day. A big night, really. After sending off the boss at work, it was soccer game for the kid, softball game for me, Pistons-Celtics game on DVR. New wrinkle for soccer: Coach out for the game, Annie volunteered in. Annie technically in, Steve actually in. Annie brought snacks, and really good ones. Preston's 1st-2nd grade league allows 6 players on the field at a time including the goalie. Normally, 7 or 8 kids show up for each game. Tuesday night, however, was a big night. An eleven kid night. Eleven kids for 6 positions. Eleven kids who want to play the three "forward" positions. For those disinclined to the beautiful game, forwards get to kick it toward the goal more than the rest.

We were there first. Preston. Then Kaitlyn. Cade and Rhett arrived together. "Hi guys, Preston's mom is the coach tonight, she's over there. I'm Steve."

"I wanna play forward! I always play forward!"

William and Colin arrive - that's six! We got a team, baby! Let's start Preston in goal, and then we'll - wait, here come two more girls. You're Julia? I'm Steve. Preston's mom is the coach tonight. And you're Kendall? Are you even on this team? You play forward?

"Can I start at forward?"

So Preston in goal, Kaitlyn and Julia and William up front, Rhett and Cade can start on defense. I know, Kaitlyn. Wait, there's another Kaitlyn? Oh, hey. Preston's mom is coaching tonight. You wanna play - yeah, I'll get you in there later. Hey, where's that really good kid, the one that scores all the goals? Oh - Clayton, there he is, he's their best forward. Sheesh - that's ten kids, we're going to have to sub a lot, keep these parents happy. Who's that red head? Is he on the team, too? His name is Colton - are you serious? I'm going to put him on defense.

"I play forward the whole 4th quarter, and don't take me out."

Cute freckles kid. Let me get this straight: Cade, Colin, Colton, Kaitlyn, Kaitlyn, Kendall, Clayton? Needless to say, Preston, Rhett, William and Julia are starting, with Cade and Kaitlyn.

The rest of you - wait until I call out a name, like "Cloytlin", and then just run in there for someone.

Well, the game went great - Preston was strong in goal and got a good 2 minute stint in the forward rotation. I stopped the game at least 5 times to shift kids around and move 2 of the 5 forwards to defense for one possession. Cloytlin scored like 8 goals and we rolled. First coaching experience, Great Success! Oh, and Annie played her part - the kids loved the oranges and Creamies. If you're from Michigan, "Creamies" might not ring a bell. For a minute I thought they were eating Coffee-mate on a stick or something. Turns out they're just what we midwesterners call fudgesicles or ice cream pops.

On the way to the softball field, a storm was a-brewin...

Being all growed up

Life is swarming all around right now. It hasn't stung me directly, but it's constantly shifting shapes and actually seems to be taking little stabs at family and friends in a lot of ways. At the same time, I'm finding lots of opportunities for change and new challenges amid the chaos.

First the fun. Let's see, I joined a softball team with some co-workers. We lost both games I played in, while they won the first game I missed. So I'm obviously having a huge impact. It's a co-ed team, and my friend Kimberly is playing with us since Annie finds softball about as interesting as she finds, well, sport. The first grounder I got at shortstop was hit by a dude, and kid was getting up the line quick. I thought I had a chance so I whizzed one over to first - to Kimberly - but the throw was low and somehow eluded her glove. It did manage to find her tibia, however, and made a thud the left fielder could hear. Kimberly bravely shook it off, but I saw her a couple days later and the bruise was pretty much from foot to knee. Glad she's my fiance's bff, because otherwise I'd probably have to pay her medical bills or something. I followed that up with 2 more fielding errors, while making maybe 2 putouts. In a related story, I played left field in the next game.

Preston is in soccer this summer, and the improvement from last fall is amazing. He's scored two goals already - in the two games I missed - and is quite the goalie as well. Zoey decided to call it a career, since last fall her involvement in soccer was a mix of chasing a boy named Noah and asking out of the game so she could snuggle with Mom on the sideline. At least she knew to walk away while she was at the top of her game.

At work, on the same day I found out my marketing coordinator was not returning from maternity leave, I found out my boss was leaving. She is a super dynamic businesswoman, a great leader, and I learned a lot from her. She's taking a job with a company that sells skincare products - a brand Annie happens to love, too, so she's on the list for free samples already. The question most people have is "do you get her job?", to which I respond "they wouldn't offer it to me, and who needs that kind of pain anyway?" It will leave a gap for a while, but I'm excited to work directly under our President, who has major marketing savvy developed under some big name brands.

Annie has an exciting potential opportunity that would involve us moving across the country if they offer her the job (they will) and if we accept (we'll see). My initial reaction to a change like that was my standard hemming and hawing and general skepticism. But the more we talk about it in realistic terms, the more used to the idea I become. I mean, I did pick up and move across the country once, it should be that much easier if we do it as a family, right? Yikes. Speaking of family, I'll be excited to finally see them in about a month when I head back to G.R. for Jr. P's wedding. I miss my nephews! I heard them on the phone a few days ago, and they sound like they're growing so fast. I think the oldest has a beard now.

As a new (almost) stepdad to school age kids, I have a bond with them that grows and grows, but obviously lacks the depth that must come from your own blood and the experiences of having a newborn. A number of friends and my sister have at least given me a vicarious glimpse of that bond. It saddens me then that I've received news in the past month from no less than 4 friends or family involving struggles with newborns. From miscarriage to genetic disorder to infant trauma and pregnancy risk - it's just a flood of reality checks for one who still imagines having his own children someday. My own family had unique experiences with my autistic sister and some of her complications as a newborn. It's amazing how frequently families face these types of situations. Does anything have a greater risk/reward dichotomy than pending childbirth? The comfort is found in witnessing these families rally around each other, as they face their challenges with love and selflessness. I need reminders at times that life is not only delicate, but precious - something to be enjoyed as much as possible while we are lucky enough to breathe.

Sorry for the dramatic tone! I do funny better than reflective, but it's what's on my mind. Quickly, then, I switch to sports: Go Pistons! Those of us who have followed the NBA for the past 20+ years think Detroit-Boston playoffs and drool. The chowder eaters have an abundance of championships lately between the Pats and Sawx (plus I heard they got a no hitter tonight - from a dude who beat cancer, no less!). Motown has a lot of almosts and inflated expectations lately (not to mention a thug-mayor scandal), but no "'Ships", as 'Sheed would say. If the Pistons and Wings both make their leagues' finals, I may have to fly to Michigan just to sit in a BW's on one of those nights they both play and get my fanhood on. Where have those days gone, boys? Oh well, at least I have a little thing called "DVR". Soccer game? Softball? Neighborhood kid scooter drama? No problem. Just don't text me and spoil the ending, Parents. That's right - my folks are texting like pros, LOL.

Wake Up Call

I'm in Dallas, and not for the reason you might think (finding out who shot JR). For work. I'm in one of those hotels that will make you an expert in various fields just by staying there. But it hasn't made me an expert in anything. It has, however, made me very frustrated.

Last night, a gas line broke next to the hotel, in front of a Waffle House - seriously. Naturally, this caused the water to go out in the entire hotel. Huh? I did not realize we had no water pressure until immediately after I had used the, um, toilet. So that was an interesting discovery. The polite person at the front desk was busy handing out bottles of water, and explaining it would surely be back on in the morning. Which it was.

BUT -- the water did not come with the most important feature for morning usage, heat. So after a night where I used bottled water for tooth brushing, and couldn't flush the toilet, I had to endure a freezing cold shower. Then - and as far as I can tell, this is not the hotel's fault - as I was carrying a case of thawed beverage mix to the meeting room (part of some training/sampling we're doing), the condensation inside the box somehow poured through a crack and ran all down my dress pants. Fortunately, the hotel room did have a functioning hair dryer. For pants. I can't wait to see what DFW has in store for me tonight, what with my scheduled American Airlines flight on an MD-80 plane - safety & peace of mind! OK, off to the meeting...

Would you light my candle?

I've been in 3 states outside of this one since my last blog: Nevada, Connecticut, and Massachusetts - each progressively newer to me and harder to spell. It's late, and I can only really summarize one of the states. My Nevada experience occurred in Las Vegas, and per Las Vegas CVA mandate, my story has not left the city limits. Connecticut was nothing but a pass thru on the way to Northampton, MA, site of Murray-Esener wedding activities.

Before I get to that, I've also been to another planet recently. Moab. It took a second trip to that place for me to understand that it cannot simply be a part of Utah, United States, Earth. The Slick Rock Recreation area - where dudes in Jeeps compete for knobbiest tires - is one of my new favorite places. We hope to camp there and ride some mountain bikes, or just climb around the strange rocky mounds. Here are some pics. And a video that my lady will enjoy seeing on the Interweb. Yes, we are jamming to the Rent soundtrack.

Murray's wedding was an excellent reason to descend upon the unique town of Northampton, MA - home of Smith College, a naked sculpture park, a beer can hall of fame, and tons of boutiques and gift shops that are WAY more enlightened and clever than you, Mister Man. It was my first trip to what my brain imagines to be the typical "northeast" town. The weather cooperated by being primarily cloudy & rainy, but as often occurs, gave way to sunshine on Saturday, the big day. St. Mary's cathedral and the Hotel Northampton made excellent backdrops to a fun and memorable time with lots of my friends from childhood, high school, and college. A few pics here, and I'll refer you to my friend Megan's blog for more detail and better pics. We did pretty much all the same stuff as her, except the red eye and yoga.

Now that I think of it, something awesome DID occur in the great state of Connecticut. It involved salad, a state trooper, an awkward glance or two, and... well, I don't know if I should share the rest. But I could write a new entry: "Something came up on the way to Hartford Bradley airport"...

Vegas Idea

Dudes, dudes, seriously, dudes: This is what we should do in Vegas. Just look at how much fun they're all having! That side shot is reminiscent of the Beatles on Abbey Road, so you know it must be good. I wrote a song about it to the tune of Ode to Joy:

Segways Segways Segways Segways
Segways Segways Se-egways!
Segways Segways Segways Segways
Segways Segways Se-egways!

Vegas Segways Ri-di-ing Segways
Dudes o-on Segways su-per rad!
Watch us rock those safety helmets
Flowered shirts and Se-eg-waaaaaaaaaaaaaaays!

Even though you knew - just by glancing - that the entire first verse was just the word Segway over and over again, you still had to sing it in your head to get through to the next verse, DIDN'T YOU! Ha! And that, my friends, is the magic of song. Good night now.

The Adjective Subject

Well, Mom & Dad made it back to the mitten state from the rectangle-with-corner-missing state, having survived 4 nights at elevation. I'll evaluate their enjoyment of the trip by comparing impressions. These are my opinions and have nothing to do with what they told me about their stay: "It was very nice."

Mountains: Very impressed. Our neighborhood: Mildly impressed. Our house: Mildly relieved. Our cars: Frivolous, but slightly impressive. Smoggy air quality in the valley: Not impressed. My parenting skills: Incomplete (the kids were only here for one night and I can't take responsibility for their behavior after a weekend at Nascar in Vegas with their grandmother. No offense Grandma K.)

Annie's hostess skillz: Mui impresivo. Disco Kitty: Impressed as you can be with a feline, and now they understand why I actually like a cat. Rock Band: Entirely unimpressed with the song selection (they're old-ish), but reluctantly impressed with my fake drum & guitar skills and "Welcome to the Family"-impressed with Annie's vocal stylings. Dinner at Annie's Mom's house: Impressed by both company and food, but slightly jealous that her family spends more time with The Steven now than they do. Mountains again: Hugely impressed (I use that word purposefully - people 'round here use the adjective (adverb?) 'hugely' too much, it's kind of a sloppy word, isn't it? No offense, Utah.)

Why am I thankful my buddy Matt is getting married? For one thing, I can finally stop worrying about his penchant for wearing short shorts and shaving his body. Aside from the fact that he's a pro-level triathlete, I couldn't think of one good reason for doing either of those things on a regular basis. Weekends only for me. But more importantly, it means I get to fly to the great state of Massachusetts at the end of this month to celebrate his wedding! I can't wait to pahk my cah in Hahvad Yahd! Actually, I won't be anywhere near Boston, but who cahes, you gawtta problem widdat? And most importantly, it means me and a bunch of dudes are meeting up in Las Vegas this weekend, ostensibly for a bachelor party celebrating Muzza's pending nuptials. But let's be honest dudes: this is the culmination of years of adolescence + young adulthood where we've been told that a dudes' weekend in Vegas is the capstone of our reckless manhood! So naturally, let's take it easy and not all go broke at once - we've got wives, kids, and almost those to consider - oh, and someone's gotta buy our bus passes home. In the immortal words of Butthead: "This will be the coolest thing we have ever done."

This Blog Post: They were more impressed with my 2nd grade Young Author's book, entitled "The Black Corvette." Or was 2nd grade "The Big Blizzard"?

Freeze Frame

Wow - so much has happened! Most of it normal, everyday stuff that isn't particularly noteworthy, but I have some time to kill. One item: I passed my 1-year anniversary of living in Utah about a week ago. It came and went without fanfare, but it was interesting to reflect on how different my life is.

My parents are here this weekend! It's great to have them in my home, around my normal life, and - for my Mom - seeing Salt Lake for the first time. We went to Park City yesterday, walked Main St., and ate lunch at Zoom - Robbie Redford's restaurant. How chic! Then Mom & Annie cooked an awesome dinner back home. They picked up some fresh fish and clam chowder from one of our favorite restaurants, and cooked it up - I daresay better than restaurant quality.

In the meantime, I gave my Dad a quick tutorial on the guitar on Rock Band, and we jammed a little. Then Annie & I showed them how we roll as a band, crushing When You Were Young with a 5 star show on vocals & drums. After dinner, we played a mean game of Scrabble while enjoying some dessert and coffee. All 4 of us love word games, so it didn't even matter who won (mebyalot), we had fun all around.

Today we're heading downtown for some shopping and site seeing, then to my future in-laws' house for a family dinner. Tomorrow, the kids get back from a weekend with Grandma, so then the REAL real-life will be on display in our house. :) Can't wait.

I'll leave you with this cool social experiment. Thanks to Heidi for the link:
http://www.maniacworld.com/frozen-in-grand-central-station.html

A smooth and gunky trip to Michigan

I wrote a review on Super Bowl ads in my previous post. It's really long, and you may be totally uninterested, but feel free to check it out and maybe comment on what the best/worst ads were.

I was lucky enough to spend this past weekend back home in Grand Rapids, so my family could see my fiance's new ring, and my roguish goatee. But getting there and back was half the fun! Northwest had the pleasure of being our discourteous carrier, canceling our connector from MSP (Minneapolis/St. Paul), re-routing us through DTW (Detroit), and being generally rude and unhelpful. On the way back to SLC yesterday, our brand new and modern looking CRJ-900 left the gate, taxied out, but then got called back to the gate for being "overweight for MSP". So the plane was perfectly fine to take off from GRR, but would have been too heavy to land in MSP after burning off thousands of pounds of fuel? Shouldn't they, like, check this before booking/loading/taxiing? Instead, they asked 6 people to leave the plane and get on another plane bound for MSP, which was fortuitously sitting in the adjacent gate due to being late.

After hearing the landing gear drop on the approach to MSP, we suddenly bolted back up in the air and circled around. Once on the ground, our plane took a painfully long route to the gate, and then sat there, waiting for some alien breed known as "jetway operators" to actually connect us to the walkway. Our friendly captain informed us that "When it rains, it pours", explaining that we couldn't land the first time because we were approaching too fast (maybe due to the lack of weight?), and then there were no jetway operators because we were so late (DUUUUUHHHH!) Throughout the ordeal, flight attendants and friendly captains continued to "sincerely apologize" for their complete lack of planning- er, for the unfortunate weather and airport circumstances which were nearly unavoidable.

After all this, our 1 hour and 20 minute layover had been reduced to 0 hours and 2 minutes! We followed the MSP signs to the tram, which was to take us to gate C9, only the tram's digital marquee informed us it was "OUT OF SERVICE - PLEASE USE MOVING WALKWAYS ---->" Somehow, we made the connection (because it was late departing) and arrived back in SLC safe and sound. Our luggage even made it.

It was great spending time with family and friends back home. On Saturday, Annie and I had lunch with my old work buddy JJ McSparty at a new downtown joint called HopCat - pretty cool place and a wild beer menu. Then we checked out his condo at Union Square and sat chatting with him and his wife Jujube. Onward to my nephew's 2nd birthday party at my sister's place. We had burgers on the grill and some tasty ribs. Later that night, we hit up Jr P's place for some awesome Wii action (my first!) and to catch up with friends. Annie killed me at Wii boxing, but I did well at bowling and tennis. My arms still hurt today.

Then I got pink eye, again, in my left eye. Seriously, it happened while sitting in front of the computer watching funny videos with the guys at Jr P's house. Disinfect your mouse, Yoshii! And don't rub your eye...

Sunday was spent cleaning my gross eye and putting tons of eye drops in. I blame my predisposition for this ailment on all the people telling me how pretty my eyes are all my life. If I'm going to get a big ego about this eye thing, well, God'll show me what some mucus and dry irritation will do! I DIDN'T ASK FOR THIS!

At least we got to watch a super-entertaining Super Bowl, and some more cousins and friends came by to my parent's house for food and fun. Monday, we caught a great lunch at Rose's in EGR with Bradley, and then headed to the airport for all the fun and excitement of cross country travel.

This morning, I woke up with pink eye in my right eye, and both eyes extremely red (pink?) So I'm going to the doctor this afternoon, which means I'm now home writing blogs. Hopefully I'll get some pictures up from the weekend. And yes, I'll make sure to use the red-eye reduction feature.

Super Bowl XLII ad review

Well, the Pats disappointed, but not nearly as bad as the ad world. Does Hollywood's writers' strike somehow affect Madison Avenue? Seriously, I've seen better overall creativity in those local ads on cable - you know, the family tire store ad where the barely literate daughter of the owner is reading a line about quality and service, and then gives a toothy grin and thumbs up? We've all seen it.

If you want a truly professional ad review, read Bob Garfield's on Adage.com - he's the best. It's raw, opinionated, and fairly jaded by his years in the business. I'll put the link below (and link to the ads themselves), but first, try and stomach my amateurish thoughts.

Let's start with the perennial overblown contributor: Bud Light. While not particularly original, the fire breather was funny, and the neanderthal-tire spot was okay too. I don't understand why they drop in the 2-second final scene after the logo/tagline - the scene is generally worse than the main ad and leaves me with a bitter beer taste. Best laugh: Will Ferrell as Jackie Moon. How long will his modified Ron Burgundy voice and personality keep us laughing? It still works for me.

Nice to see that CocaCola can still make warm fuzzy ads. Who'd-a-thunk Charlie Brown would star in this year's ads? I enjoyed trying to verbalize Stewie the balloon's thoughts as he fought for the Coke with Underdog; "Blast it all, you mangy mutt!" The political-pundit ad was lost on me, but why do I find two guys on Segways so amusing? (Aside): Yesterday, at SLC airport, we saw two cops rolling around on Segways near the baggage claim. Their machines had custom side-mounted storage bins and "POLICE" stickers all over them. Ooh - menacing. My guess is they filed a boredom complaint (it's the SLC airport) and were given the scooting podiums for amusement. Bonus! It's the citizens who are most amused! I compare this phenomenon to the fat twins on mopeds from the Guinness Book. Remember?

Dell, which has done some memorable ads, had a major flop. It was embarrassing actually - they're partnered with the (PRODUCT)RED campaign which supports the fight against AIDS in Africa, and the best they can do is a guy being worshipped for carrying his Dell laptop around town? Huh? Also, the Bridgestone ads with people/animals/Richard Simmons getting in the way were idiotic.

The ad that created the most visceral response for me was the Godfather-inspired Audi R8 ad. The cut from the front-end-in-the-bed scene to the firing engine and futuristic headlights of the new R8 was exhilarating. That car looks awesome. Bonus props for using the phrase "put on notice".

Enough with GoDaddy's sex sells pitches. Yes they're direct, but we get it already. I'm disappointed that Danica Patrick goes along with this stuff - I thought she'd stick closer to her sport. Instead, she's going the way of Kournikova.

Best line: Cars.com's "Plan B" spot with the stone circle death match: "You should definitely step outside the circle..."

Babies are cute, we know. Somehow, E*Trade still got it right with their baby videos. It makes the point well (ease of use), makes us laugh, and capitalizes on the recent trend of YouTube baby clips being emailed around by your aunt. Also, acknowledging clown creepiness never hurts.

The FedEx carrier pigeons were a good sight gag and that's about it. "Here's a great new (absurd) idea! No? Okay maybe not." Sort of the same concept as the Bud Light fire breather / flying ads. Bob Garfield calls it "the 'what if/never mind' comedy genre", which sums it up best.

Memo to Doritos: At $2.7 Million per :30 spot, you might want to re-think putting half your spend on a girl with a guitar named Kina Grannis. Good luck measuring that ROI. I'm sure she'll really stand out from the other refreshing, folksy, granola-eating ladies cramming that genre. And notice what they eat: granola, not Doritos chips.

On to the other beverage behemoth, Pepsi. I hate admitting it, but the Justin Timberlake spot was one of the better all-around ads of the show, complete with a clever gimmick, interactive website, call to action for free MP3s, and an Andy Samberg cameo to boot. "Multimedeoric" if you will. I should coin that term, whatever that means. Diet Pepsi Max must be doing some effective advertising in general, because I knew that would be the product featured in the head nodding/bobbing ad before we actually saw it. In this case, however, the "celebrity" appearances - Chris Kattan the only exception - were cheap and unnecessary.

One of, if not the best ad was the "Silence the Stain" spot from Tide. The sheer annoyance you felt watching and listening means it was effective. Watch it again, and tell me the stain's blabbering is not reminiscent of Steve Carell's anchorman character toward the end of this Bruce Almighty clip.

All of the vitamin/life/flavored water ads are generally weird. Once you accept that, you can enjoy the Thriller-dance lizards for SoBe Life Water. Come on, we all wish we could do that entire dance in our living rooms, and although we often try, we can never get the shimmy-shimmy / feet together / clap overhead part right. I'm talking about other people, not me. But this ad begs one question: Does Naomi Campbell really matter anymore? Really? Nao- forget it.

And finally (we hope), the culmination (we hope) of the Charles Barkley + Dwyane Wade "Fave 5" ads gave me some chuckles. Two points: He really spells it "Dwyane", that is not a misprint. And "Chuckles" is a nickname often used for Charles Barkley, so... The best moment of the ad was seeing Chuckles in front of the double-wide refrigerator. For those hip to the sports scene, Mr. Barkley is generally regarded as not slim. And Mr. Wade should keep his day job, which is flopping all over the ground drawing cheap whistles, while scoring lots of meaningless points for the worst team in the NBA.

The rest of the ads were either too idiotic to mention (SalesGenie.com), or I did not see them (___). For a professional and well researched take on the ads, see Bob Garfield's column here. If you missed any or all of the ads, be thankful, but feel free to watch them here.