Watch Out -- Your Character is Showing

This past week in football was both satisfying and distressing, all wrapped up together.

I neglected to watch ESPN Game Day on Saturday, and I have not yet caught up on my DVR'd version of "College Football Final" (yes, I'm a dork), so I'm sad to say that we have no individual awards to give out today. Instead, we will substitute the honor (dubious though it is), with some team and group awards.

First award -- the "That's More Like It!" Award goes to Penn State for stomping Michigan on their own turf and for owning Michigan two years in a row. You know it's a great football weekend when people come bounding across the pews in church to come talk about how nice it was to watch the Lions hang a bunch on some weasels. I mean wolverines. Eh, same thing. Really.

The "Enough Already" award goes to the entire staff at ESPN for mentioning at least once every 5 minutes that Penn State has not beat Michigan in Ann Arbor in 11 years. You can stop saying that now.

For a lightening change of heart, the "BOO! HISS" Award goes to Florida State. No, this isn't what you think. We are proud to be anti-Bobby Bowden in this house because, like all good Penn State fans, we think "Samford Shouldn't Count". (If you need an explanation for that statement, look here at this article. The article is old -- Joe is back in the lead now -- but it explains what the gripe is about in a more unbiased and polite way than I would.) All the booing and hissing relates to the way FSU is treating Bowden now, mid-season demands for his resignation and all that rot just because the team has hit some bad times. Let's think about that. One: You gave the guy a statue outside your stadium. Two: He built your football program. Three: He's one of very, very few active College Football Hall of Famers, and they changed the rule so he and (Joe) the other one (Joe) whose name I won't mention (Joe) could get in while they were still alive. Four: Great football coaches don't live long after they retire, so griping on him now is just plain mean. FIVE: EVEN IF YOU GET ANOTHER COACH IT WON'T STOP THE BLEEDING.

Just think about it -- ask Notre Dame, Michigan, Illinois, Miami, even Alabama. You can't replace a longtime coach, especially a legend, and expect things to improve right away. All you are doing for the next year or so is moving a new guy into the hotseat as the sacrificial lamb to the fans and alumni until you find the "real" coach. Why rush the transition years? (Again, let's look at Notre Dame, or how long it took Alabama to come back to life. Miami is still waiting for redemption.) If Bobby shows up to work, does his job, tries to make improvements, and nothing works, then sometimes you need to let nature take its course and let the cycle work itself out. Bobby can do a lot with a football squad, but he can't upgrade kids who just don't have the talent to perform. Not every team will win the conference every year. Not every coach can pull wins out of the ether. Not even Joe. FSU -- don't send Bobby out this way. Don't be the school that did that. Please. Seriously -- how can you build the guy a statue, and appeal the NCAA sanctions just to preserve his record, and then pull the plug on him? Frankly, it makes you look like the mean-spirited idiots we all like to think you are on Saturday.

Moving on to other subjects, this weeks "Huh?" Award goes to the referee team for both the Penn State-Michigan game and the Michigan State-Iowa game, both of which called defensive holding at crucial moments of their respective games. What the heck is defensive holding? Did they just invent it for this weekend? How is it that I've never heard of it before and yet hear it twice in the same weekend?

Although I have said something like this before, the "Groundhog's Day" Award goes to Michigan State for once again managing to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory in the game against Iowa. Iowa threw a touchdown pass in literally the last few seconds of the game. (Ouch, I'm remembering an old PSU-Michigan game in Ann Arbor in 2005.)

And finally, the "Grudging Respect" Award goes to Iowa for achieving an 8-0 record for the first time in school history. (I still have a hard time believing that stat, but ESPN said it, so it must be true.) I am pulling for Iowa to lose every week since they beat PSU, which is why the Michigan State game was such a heartbreaker for me, but I have to admit the team has spunk. Maybe it is their turn. Aww, na. That's too nice.

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More Things I Have Learned

Near the beginning of my attempt at blogging, I posted about "Things I Learned on Vacation". I thought the time had come for me to share a similar post.

1. I learned that if I ignore the "Descale" light on my coffee pot, then after a mere 2 cups of coffee, the ominous red light will begin to blink. I strongly suspect that a verbal countdown and subsequent explosion will be next, but I don't intend to learn that.

2. As you may have noticed, I have finally learned how to create hyperlinks in my blog. Now you can see all the irritating light blue text where I think there are key words that you might want to click on to see prior posts mentioned in (or implicated by) these words. Woo hoo! Even better, I have been going back to older posts and inserting these hyperlinks in all my old posts. So far I've only gotten as far as mid-July, but I am trying ....

3. I learned that I have a surprisingly high tolerance for loud obnoxious flowers that sing, "You Are My Sunshine" as well as for certain CDs of children's music. I learned that I have almost no tolerance for children that try to climb me after I said, "Please wait a moment" when they asked to be picked up.

4. I learned that Toddler has an insatiable appetite for Mickey Mouse Clubhouse and for coloring with crayons.

5. I also learned what my father must have been feeling when he found crayon on the white walls of my childhood home.

6. I have learned that if I call a hamburger "meat" Toddler will eat it. If I call it a "hamburger" he won't. Similarly, I have learned that if I call anything "meat," Toddler will eat it, but that trick is fast losing its effectiveness. Just last week DH tried the trick by giving Toddler rice and veggies and saying, "there is meat in there." There wasn't. Toddler ate it, but for the next bite said, "I want the meat, not the no meat."

7. On a similar note, I have learned that Toddler is serious when he says he doesn't want any bites of bananas (although he loves banana puree). After finding a banana piece Grandma stuck in his yogurt, Toddler took Grandma's hand and said, "Grandma, no nanas."

8. I learned that Toddler has better rhythm than DH. DH has noticed this, too.

9. I learned that Toddler can understand "bad" words even when mumbled around a toothbrush and whispered under the breath.

10. I also learned that there are times when Toddler will cry in a whisper when he thinks he's supposed to be quiet. I strongly suspect that these cries are fake, but I haven't actually learned that yet.

I'm sure I will continue to learn more each and every day.

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Why Am I Not Rich?

For today's entry, I've decided to go back and re-read all my prior blog posts. I was astonished to discover how many times I have had a great make-it-rich scheme or idea. I mentioned some of this back on my post about Bread Bowls, and I decided to make a quick count.

1. I first mentioned the idea that I could become rich in my post "What Do You Mean 'Challenging'?" In that post I described that wealth would come if I could actually catch my coffee cups multiplying in the cupboard. You know I'm right. Yours do it too.

2. Okay, this one isn't exactly about making it rich, but I did make a very fiscally responsible post discussing the amount of tax and charitable dollar waste that we are suffering because of the de-planetization of Pluto in my post "Some Things Just Shouldn't Change" (De-planetization is my own new word. Do you like it?)

3. In my post "May I Suggest Some Improvements?" I did not specifically mention money, but I did suggest some improvements to the GPS devices on the market that, if developed appropriately, would make a lucrative investment. I should not have been so quick to give those ideas away.

4. I have a plan for making millions bootlegging mayonaisse in the event our food regulations ever become hopelessly absurd, as I mention in "I Wish, I Wish, I Wish....".

5. A waterproof hoodie with a pull down waterproof facemask, for rain drench football games, was my idea for Nike and Champion (to pay me for, of course), in "We're Ever True To You".

6. I have invented a new kind of fast food restaurant in "Drive Through Pizza" that is bound to become a major franchise.

7. In "Bread Bowls" I reveal the secret to fortune-making soup. Since then, DH has decided to add to this inspiration by branching out into chili in a bread bowl. I might have to share the profits with him.

8. While I didn't specifically talk about marketing strategies, in "Do You Routine?" I describe the necessity in my life of learning to find the source code for humans. Just imagine how much money I could make if I actually ever located it?

More times then I can accurately link you to, I make reference to the invention of a collar like the one in the movie "UP" that will translate the thoughts of pets and toddlers. Clearly, this is the finest idea yet, but I don't think I've the capacity to build one.

Now, all I need is to find a backer.... I know I can make this work. Right?

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Mini Warps in Space/Time

DH and I have been noticing something, recently. I was going to say that it was something, "unusual" but maybe not. Maybe it is very common, and you all figured it out by now, and I'm the only one left to marvel at the vagaries of physics in this world.

I'm talking, of course, about soda. (That's "pop" for those of you west of Pittsburgh.)

My favorite kind of soda (pop) is Diet Wild Cherry Pepsi. The problem with this particular product, though, is that all of the cans are sold with a hole in the bottom. I open it up, I take a few sips, and it is gone. If the cans didn't have this defect, I think DWCP is all I would ever buy. (Well, unless Diet Cherry Zero was on sale.) As it is, I buy a few 12 packs of Diet Pepsi, Diet Coke, Coke Zero, Pepsi One, just to make sure we have some soda (pop) in the house for when guests come and the DWCP has all disappeared.

On the complete other end of the spectrum is ginger ale and root beer. For some reason, the manufacturers of these products have managed to find the miracle of self-filling containers. You drink some, and it magically refills itself so the can lasts the entire day.

Now, I can neither see the hole in the can of DWCP, nor can I catch any ginger ale or root beer refilling itself. And yet, I know these things happen. It is the only explanation that makes any real sense.

Of course, you can make some argument that I drink faster when I like something more, but that just doesn't fit the facts. For the DWCP, that can is empty almost as soon as I open it -- basically, using this theory, I open it, chug it, put it down, and reach over to find it empty. With the ginger ale and root beer, I open it, drink, put it down, drink, put it down, drink, and on and on and on and on. So, rather then drinking "faster," or "slower," I'm forced to conclude that either I am taking "bigger" and "smaller" sips of said beverages, or there are a different number of sips in the different kinds of cans. I think we can all agree that the latter is far more plausible than the former.

DH and I agree on the DWCP. Some beverages we dispute, but for the most part, we agree. He also adds that orange and grape soda have fewer sips per can, and I agree. The can with the absolute most sips of all, insofar as I have been able to tell, is club soda with quinine. The second largest number of sips is in Peach flavored Fresca.

I think if we want to understand the mysteries of the universe and create one big "Theory of Everything" in physics, then the scientists examining black holes and similar space/time distorting properties of the cosmos need to also take a good look at soda cans.

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Mixed Metaphors

Yesterday, DH, Toddler and I went to the Renaissance Faire with our Dear Aunt. Due to family chaos and other things, we had not been able to go for the last three years. In many ways, nothing changes in three years, but in other ways, three years gives a little bit of different perspective (as does parenthood).

Here were the things I observed that I wanted to share with you.

First, the time period of this "village" is supposed to be 1500-something. I never remember exactly what year, but it is allegedly an English Tudor Village.

The first thing I saw when I walked through the gate this time, though, was a short woman (I think) dressed in all black leather with (no joke) a spiked mohawk that was at least 15 inches long in each spike. Nearby, and scattered throughout the festival, were many people in "goth" clothing. These were the first stereotyped people I noticed, and they felt a little bit out of place to me. I don't know ... I see how the weaponry and the metal look might go together, but I just don't get the motorcycle gear among all these guys in tights and waistcoats. Being completely shallow, I'm thinking do these people come here because of a secret love of Tudor History? A desire to stand out in a different locale? A feeling that among other oddly dressed people they are not so oddly dressed? Did their significant other make them do it? Or, are they here for the dope? .... Because ....

The second thing I noticed as the day went on was the overwhelming use of incense -- generally being carried around (lit) by individuals and not, as one might think, being contained in an incense burner. Okay, people, we weren't born yesterday. The middle ages were not the most pleasant-smelling era of world history, but certainly the servants were not walking around burning incense over the castle midden or out behind the stables. We all know what you are trying to hide behind those smouldering sticks of incense. So ... are these reefer tooters coming to the festival for the ambiance? To wear long dresses while stoned? Or because they think it is somehow "period" to smoke dope? Or possibly the festival looks a little more authentic with reefer. Yes, I'm sure that is it.

I saw a lot of people I think might have looked equally comfortable dressed up as a Vulcan at a Star Trek convention (and I've been to one of those, too). I saw a lot of families with dads who seemed to have a thing for swords. We bought some really yummy honey, and we played with some musical instruments (Toddler wants a drum). I saw some people who looked like they might be a bit stuffy and tense no matter where they were. I saw women using the place as an excuse to go as topless as allowed in this country by squeezing their coconuts so hard they nearly explode out the top of their dresses.

And then, there were the "free spirits". This, of all the things I saw, is what puzzled me the most. Where did the Renaissance Festival groupies ever get the idea that free thinking, free love, free spirited people roamed the middle ages? This was the era where it was death to speak ill of the King, women (and men) were bartered and sold into marriage by their fathers for the good of the family, land, or national politics. If you weren't rich enough to hire someone, you worked for them, or you scraped a living from the land and starved when the weather turned against you. Yes ... lots of free spirits in that life, wondering where the next meal was coming from. I see the connection.

Well, either way, the Renaissance Festival is a nice place where children can watch grown men beat each other over the head with swords and drool over wood female busts wearing chain link bras, where King Henry has whichever wife the scriptwriters prefer that season, and where hippies and bikers with piercings alike can wear flower garlands.

Peace out!

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Wednesday Again ... Football Again

Last Saturday was Homecoming in Happy Valley, and the Minnesota Golden Gophers (that still makes me giggle) tried some "trickeration" in State College. They sent a storm and blew out power to the Paterno house the night prior to the game.

Even that didn't help, as the Lions held the Gophers to a goose egg in a stadium still very, very full despite the rain. Yes, DH, Toddler and I were all there, and we had a great time. Beaver Stadium (or "Be-leaver Stadium," as I like to call it) is the only place where Toddler is allowed to scream to his heart's content without admonishment from Mom or Dad. Sometimes he just yells for fun, but most of the time he follows our lead and says cute things like, "YAY PENN STATE!" He has even learned some of the words of the fight song and the ode to the mascot. That's my boy! His favorite line is "Roar, Lions, Roar!" Even better, he is all PSU even when he is telling you he doesn't want to participate. Lots of time when we say, "WE ARE!" He yells, "PENN STATE!" But every once in a while when we say, "WE ARE!" He responds, "No. No 'We Are Penn State!'"

Speaking of "trickeration," I have been wishing this week that I were a real sportscaster, with access to all the film of the weekend's games to play over and over. If so, I'd watch USC blow coverage on that fake punt over, and over, and over, and I'd play it back for you right here, because I can't figure out how this actually happened in real life. I mean, let's think about this. All of the Notre Dame guys line up for the punt except one guy who lines up waaaayyyy out at the sideline. Ya think it might have been a good idea to spare a guy to line up in front of him just in case? No ... don't bother. It's perfectly normal for guys to just wander around the field and line up in the wide receiver position on a punt. That is, if it's a fake punt. (Seriously, again, no one saw this? How do you not see him standing out there??)

And speaking of figuring things out, I think the Big 10 has got me just about befoodled and befuddled. (I'm not even going to talk about the AP top 25 -- that's a can of worms too big for a short blog.) The only team undefeated in Big 10 conference play is Iowa. Wow, who saw that coming? Ohio State has an overall record with two losses, and they are still number 2 in the conference. And who is number three? Why Michigan State, of course, with an overall record of 4-3 and a loss to Central Michigan on the books. I'm so confused. On the other hand, at least I'm feeling a little bit better about PSU's loss to Iowa at this point.

As far as this week's awards, I only have one. This is the, "Huh? Award." In anticipation of the Oklahoma-Texas game, Mark Cuban was heard to say, "Usually for this game, the weather is horrible in Dallas." You know, unless it is is the middle of August, or during a hurricane, I don't think anyone would call the weather in Dallas, "horrible." After all Mr. Cuban used to live in Pennsylvania, speaking of horrible weather. Hmm. Pittsburgh ... Dallas ... Pittsburgh ... Dallas, which one has the worse weather? I said weather. Nothing else.

On the whole, though, I have to say the most dramatic part about the whole weekend was trying to figure out how to get there. All the ugly weather forced Penn State to close all the grass parking lots, destroying much intended debauchery and grilling of bratwurst. In true PSU form, this was solved by efficient machinery in motion. This decision could have been a disaster, but somehow Penn State managed to quickly and painlessly bus in (for free, no less) a stadium full of people. I have absolutely no facts to back this up, but I am guessing that the number of people coming to the game on the impromptu bus system was at least 40-50 thousand. Yes, 40,000-50,000 people, all riding local school busses from distant parking lots and hotels to Be-leaver Stadium like the believers they are. Picture yourself, your children, your parents, and your elderly grandparents all wearing warm weather gear and draped in rain ponchos, sitting on a public school bus with everyone else's children, parents and grandparents, waiting to go sit 3.5 hours in the freezing rain, and all being HAPPY about it. Without the beer.

Only in Happy Valley, I think.

Don't worry. Football season is about half over, and then those of you nasty football haters will get this space back on Wednesdays.

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Houdini

In my last post I mentioned that I was planning on talking about Houdini's latest exploits. I told you earlier about how Houdini came to live with us, but I think I neglected to tell you why I chose to give him the name "Houdini" in this blog. Of course, Houdini is not his real name, but, like Houdini's real name, I have chosen it because it represents a very persistent part of this cat's personality.

Houdini likes to do magic tricks involving hiding and escaping. I believe I mentioned, briefly, that he used to hide for days on end when he first came to live with us, but I don't think I ever mentioned the "escaping" part of his routine.

Recently we haven't had as much problem with this (but we will now that I said that), but in the recent past we have had tremendous problems with Houdini's attempts to return to the outdoors. Over the winter and spring, Houdini would sit by the front door when I had it open, and keep checking, and checking, and checking, to be sure it was completely latched. He and Girl Cat would stand up on their hind legs to sniff longingly or curiously (depending on the cat) at the outdoor breeze. Then, while Girl Cat was content to stare and sniff (she once had a bad experience outside), Houdini has conveniently forgotten how hard it was to worm his way inside this house and decided he wanted back outside.

So, for the longest time, every day Houdini would find a way to get outside. Most often he would sneak his way out between someone's legs when they were coming or going, usually with groceries. Sometimes he would convince Toddler to open the door for him. Sometimes ... sometimes he just mysteriously de-materialized inside the house and re-materialized outside like his namesake. Our first clue that he was gone in those cases would be one of us spotting Houdini on the back step nosing into the outdoor cats' food.

For a cat that moved mountains to move inside, he's awfully eager to get back outside. I've taken to having to bring the groceries in very carefully. First, I have to toss Toddler inside, with the instruction, "Go get Houdini." Houdini takes a few steps backwards from the door in self defense. Then, I stack the soda packs just inside the door in an effort to block access to the screen so I can open it without having to guard the entire threshold. Then, I stack all of the remainder of the grocery bags in the threshold, starting at the point where Houdini is trying to make an end run around the boxes of soda. I try hard to leave myself at least six inches past the screen door to try to give myself a chance to actually step inside the door without falling. Last, I throw myself through the doorway, jump the pile of groceries, push Houdini out of the way, and pull the screen door tightly closed, all in one motion.

When people come to visit, my mantra after the words, "Come in!" is "Shut the door tightly, please."

Sometimes, though, I don't get it all right. Houdini escapes, right betwen my legs, alongside my legs, or sometimes over them if I'm lying on a heap on top of the groceries. On some of those days, I ask myself whether I really want to go chase him down. I mentioned that once, briefly, in an earlier post. Unless Houdini makes his escape immediately while I am coming in from the outside, chances are I don't have shoes on. With my luck, it's cold outside, or Toddler is screaming, and I know that I have mere minutes before Houdini is off into the woods where the foxes, deer and coyotes live (coyotes probably killing an earlier outdoor cat of ours). One day I caught him because he stopped to scratch his back against the sidewalk. Once I caught him because he was flabbergasted to find out that a dog moved in next door since he last lived outside, and it is biiiiigggg, loud, and not too fond of cats. Other times I've had to make a mad dash to the fence gate because he scaled it and kept on going, and once I had to drag him out from under a bush. Once I almost had to give him up for gone before he finally stopped, and I perservered only because I didn't want to explain to DH why his darling cat was missing.

For a brief period of time, Houdini thought he had a brilliant new plan. He would follow me out to the deep freeze in the garage and try to sneak out that way. Guess what, Houdini, there is no way out that way. Woops! After one or two circuits around the garage to conclude that there was no other open doorway, Houdini would return inside and try to make the best of things. We thought he had learned his lesson, but apparently we overestimated his intellect and/or underestimated his stubborness. Twice in the past two weeks Houdini has apparently snuck out unnoticed into the garage after one of us and failed to return inside before we shut the door --leaving Houdini out in the garage over night. Boy was he sorry the first time, but apparently not sorry enough to refrain from doing it again the next time. We'll have to see if he has learned his lesson yet.

But, now you know how Houdini got his name. In the end, I don't think he wants to run away, but he misses eating fresh grass, beating up the other outdoor cats (so he recalls), and coming and going as he pleases. We are hoping to get to a level of trust where he can come and go as he pleases, but I'm not so sure DH is ready for that kind of committment, even if Houdini is. We will see. Until DH is ready, though, I have the unenviable job of "rescuing" Houdini from the outside and bringing him back in, thankfully still purring.

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