I Wish That I Could Fly Into Sky So Very High

Watching star trek while experiencing turbulence definitely adds a new wrinkle to the film. However, there were two things in the movie that pleased me. First, they brought back the meaty arm slap as a means of saying hello between two guys. Love it. It just might have the ability to replace the fist bump. I like the fist bump, but feel that it has run its course. The meaty arm slap is fantastic.
Also, it soothes my soul to think that even thousands of years in the future, sabotage by the beastie boys will still be around and in moderate rotation. That is one of those songs that should endure millennia. Simply flawless.
It got me thinking though about what songs I would want preserved for posterity. Obviously Sabotage would front the list. Born to run would have to be on the list. (side note: had a professor come back from a Springsteen concert. Painfully, half the class had no idea who Springsteen was. My jaw fell so far, it almost hit the cadaver. Inexcusable. I blame their parents a little. Not much though.)
She loves you would be the entry from the beatles, just as satisfaction would represent the rolling stones. Say it ain't so, for me at least, is a song that divides people into two groups: those that like it, and my enemies.
I'll also grab superstition, and something recent like cry me a river (I don't think I have ever skipped that song. Ever. Plus, this past decade or so has been so pop heavy, I wasn't left with a lot of revolutionary songs.). Also, give me California love. Always gets everyone on the dance floor.
That's eight deep. Not enough for an album, but a good start. Any suggestions? Got to get at least to twelve to make a respectable set list.
Word.
PS. Posted at 10,000 feet. Believe it.

You're Frozen When Your Heart's Not Open

Christmas has come and gone, and for all those wondering, yes, the tootsie roll bank made a triumphant return from it's year long hiatus. I do love those chocolate morsels. Like oreo cookies love milk.
Also, it means that the impending, possibly becoming "the annual", New Year's Eve trip out to Utah is upon us. For how much I hate the cold, and don't kid yourself, I really hate being cold, I'm thoroughly looking forward to this. And here's a short list why:
1. Wingers. Bar none, favorite restaurant. It did supplant Outback, although Outback still retains the "favorite restaurant where you feel slightly under-dressed wearing a T-shirt and jeans" title. I buy their sauce by the bottle, and put it on the McDonalds/Wendy's dollar chicken sandwiches. I'm telling you, you can't go back once you do this. No seriously. I tried eating one without the sauce and it was so bland I had to stop halfway through and get the sauce out of the fridge. I'm bringing it down to my rock for sure. The only question is how many bottles. International travel allows me to check two bags for free. There's a good chance that I might have one of them be solely Wingers' sauce.
2. The cold. Let me know when your head wraps around that. Ok, I'll clarify. I like coming in for only a handful days, getting a taste of it, enjoying what little things in it there are to enjoy, and then getting the heck out of it for the next 360 days. It's like watching "Roots" just to remind myself how good I have it. (Thank you Christopher Turk). Seeing the bad lets me know just how good I have it. For example: Ten day forecast for Provo has highs ranging from 27-37. For St. Maarten: 79-80. Fantastic.
3. Old friends. (Maybe I should have listed this one first, but retroactively we'll say that the list is not in favorite-order.) I do enjoy the people that I have met at Med School. I thoroughly enjoy most of them and look forward to meeting others. However, nothing replaces old friends. The memories, the inside jokes, the knowledge that you know them possibly better than they know themselves, and that they know you in the same way. Can't beat it.
4. New Year's Eve. Celebrating New Year's Eve in Florida has its perks, but it doesn't beat being around 100's of LDS people who are just out to have a fun time. If you haven't experienced it, I would recommend it.
So yeah, I'm pretty stoked about the trip. I'm about 73% of the stoke-age that I would be for Baseball's Opening Day, which, for something non-sports related, is ridiculously high. If you're going to be in Utah, drop me a line. I have a new cell-phone number which there is no chance of me posting it on this blog, but let me know and I'll get the number to you through some information outlet.
Bring a jacket. 27 is cold enough to make you forget your name.
Word.

There Were Days When The Sun Was So Cruel That All The Tears Turned To Dust

I have a few personal axioms which have treated me very well. For example, early on I realized that cheese and/or bacon is always a good idea. No, think about it. Just about food served hot can be improved upon by adding cheese and/or bacon. I've done the testing for this. It's science. In fact the only way to make bacon better is to wrap it in another strip of bacon. And the only improvement of that is to melt cheese on top, and wrap another slice of bacon around it in the third direction. I call it Ambrosia, because it is food fit for deity.

Another one has been if it isn't announced or referenced on Sportscenter, I generally don't need to know about it. Sportscenter tells me who the newly elected president is. They let me know that the economy is having difficult times (unless you're Randy Wolf, the newest incarnation of Gil Meche. Definitely raising my sons to be lefties. There is no downside to this. None.). This is why I don't watch a lot, if any, news shows. I just don't need to. I get all my news spliced in between LeBron dunks and Pujols blasts.

However, I'm abandoning one. It has served me well, but it has been proven inaccurate. I never thought I would say this, but I kind of miss the cold. Now, don't misunderstand. I don't miss slipping on ice. I don't miss having my fingers and toes numb. I don't miss having the gum I leave in the car become 17 foil-wrapped pieces of blue slate. And I certainly don't miss watching my car spin out, glancing another car, a month and a half after I bought it.

I do miss the cold though. Mostly, I miss how it silently marked the passing of time. When the first snow came, I knew that Thanksgiving was coming and then the semester would soon be over. It also told me that I should really think about studying. It also was a subtle reminder that Christmas was around the corner and I should start thinking about gifts for the family.

Growing up in Florida, cold meant putting on a sweater. It meant I couldn't wear shorts anymore, and that maybe I should put on one of my two long-sleeve shirts. But at least it was a change. It broke up the 8 months of heat and reminded us that global warming hasn't taken full effect yet.

On this rock, it's mid-December, and still 80+ outside. It's very unsettling. My calendar tells me Christmas is two weeks out, but the sweat on my brow makes me think it's six months away. It's absurd, and I can't take it anymore. This four month hitch has swayed me more in favor of living in a colder climate than any other experience I've ever had.

So, this New Year's, like last New Year's, I'm trekking back up to Utah for the festivities. This is
starting to become an annual tradition that I'm perfectly fine with. I'll have to dig my coat out of storage and remember to pack a beanie, but I'm going North and I'm going freezing.

And I'll try my best not to slip.

Word.

Clowns To The Left Of Me, Jokers On The Right

I need to say this because it needs to be said first. I'm not going to elaborate on it, because I would just rather let it go then rehash it. About a week or so ago, The Girlfriend and I broke up.
It wasn't easy, but we're both handling it well and moving forward. I realize some people may want to know more, but tough, they're not getting it.
(Abrupt Topic Change)
A family in the branch, one of the few, are leaving the island for good later this week. It's sad to see them go, but I understand, and am mostly sad because they get to return to a place where convenience is celebrated. A couple days ago, they gave me a large bag of candy. I can only assume that the contents are Halloween leftovers, but candy is candy, and it's only been a month max. Candy, especially hard candy, holds for months, and probably could hold for years, but I tend to eat it before it reaches that point.
The best part was the inordinately high jaw-breaker to other candy ratio. It had to be slightly better than 1 to 1. Thing about that. For every piece of Double Bubble, you also have a jaw breaker. Every caramel-apple-on-a-stick thing, another jawbreaker (You can tell I don't know how to write that word because I've already tried it three different ways and feel completely neutral on all of them.). It's fantastic. Why you ask? Because next to Tootsie Rolls and Caramels, jawbreakers have to come next in the pantheon of candies. They're a fantastic item. I mean, if you like your candy to have a consistently sweet taste, and to have it crank out that flavor for at least 30 minutes, than you're a jawbreaker fan.
I grabbed one heading out the door to class the other day. It was purple, and I got really excited because you just don't see a lot of purple ones. It also seemed to be a little bigger than normal, so I was even more eager to let it roam around my mouth. I popped it in, and the sky gathered darkness. A jawbreaker it was not. It was gum. And not good gum by any definition. Did it have flavor you ask? No. None. Could I blow a decent bubble with it? Less tension than Manny Ramirez on a day off (Then again, I'm not completely sure if Manny knows he even has days off. I just think he knows that sometimes he goes to the ball park to hang out and other times they ask him to see the ball and hit the ball.). The quality was so low, it stuck to my fillings. And I have more than my share of those.
I could not dispose of it soon enough. I was duped. Thought I was walking into paradise, wound up in torture. Then, last night I had the same thing happen again. Now I need to preface this next part a little bit with some personal history.
It's no secret I love Boy Meets World. If there was a test on all Boy Meets World knowledge, I could walk in right now and score a minimum of a 94%. I'm like 3 standard deviations above the average knowledgeable on the life of Cornelius Matthews. But more than that, I have grown to love the various side characters, like Franky the Enforcer, or his brother Herman. Fantastic. One of the tragic tales is that of one Stuart Minkus. You might remember him from season one, and his brief spot in the graduation episode of season 5. He was the nerdy guy who, for a school project, planned out the rest of his life, down to the corporate maneuvers he would make and the SEC paperwork that would need to be filed in order to accomplish them. He also had planned to marry Topanga, before Cory was even really interested in her. Well, we all know how that turned out. Thankfully, he was young enough that he could bounce back.
For unknown reasons, he relocated from the Philadelphia area over to a quaint town in North Carolina called Tree Hill. He also changed his name (and why he went from one to the other, I'll never know, because he didn't exactly trade up) to Marvin McFadden, and had acquired the nickname 'Mouth' by high school. He was no longer a lanky, stereotypical nerd, but also wouldn't be considered a top flight socially desirable specimen. He was just an average guy.
He however, was cursed with women issues here as well. One of the first girl's he likes, winds up really liking one of his best friends. Another girl essentially uses him, and then cuts him loose after a night of passion. A third has him on a string for years, but is always selecting others for ill-advised reasons. However, one came along that was a great fit for him. She was good looking, smart, funny, and a great match for his personality. Things had been going great for them for the better part of two years. Now however, she's become a cocaine snorting model who is so self-absorbed that she's throwing every friendship and relationship to the side.
It pains me to see the every-guy get trampled like this. I thought he was safe, which in turn gave me hope for things for me. But the rug was pulled out again from under him, under me, under us all. Why?! Why?! Hasn't he suffered enough? Let him enjoy one relationship in peace.
Lee Norris, aka Stuart Minkus aka Marvin 'Mouth' McFadden... I feel for you. Keep your chin up. Things will get better.
Word.

And She Can Transform Like Optimus Prime

I was watching Saved By The Bell the other day, and it got me thinking. How did Slater get his classic fro-mullet hybrid to become the wavy doo that he sports today? There is no way his hair just magically changed overnight, right? So one of them has to be fake, and the other real. Which of course, leads me to which is which? Also, if his real hair is the wavy style, at what point in the Saved By The Bell casting process did someone say, "Well, that hair looks fine, but you know what would be better... a mullet! No, wait, a mullet made of a mini afro! How can that not sell his uber-heterosexual, all-state in four sports character?"
The only rational argument I've been able to pull together is that Zack had wavy hair, and so for those people who still might have been using a black and white tv, they had an easy way to separate the three main males. Then I thought, maybe it was an early 90's thing. Maybe, but no. Name me one other character from that era, (or any for that matter) that also sported the fro-mullet? Nothing for you either, huh. Interesting.
Do you think Slater (I refuse to call him by his real name, solely on the premise that names don't get much A) cooler, or B) appropriate than Slater was for his character. If you're named Slater and built like he was, people clear paths just at the sound of your name.) looks back and regrets the cumulative days he spent in the hair salon getting a perm every week? (How frequent would he need to have this re-done? I understand it's called a perm, but how long before his roots grew out and over threw the curly ends? And talk about and ugly transition phase. He would almost have to shave it all off and let it completely regrow.)
Also, did I spend a whole post talking about Slater's hair? Yes. Yes I did.
Word.

These Streets Will Make You Feel Brand New, Big Lights Will Inspire You

I spent every year of college betting against the Yankees. And every year, I lost that bet. This year, I bet on the Yankees, and now, barring an absurd turn of events, I have come out victorious. It was far too close than it should have been- Mets, Mariners, Rockies, I'm looking at you- but alas, the victory was secured in the Inaugural "Inaugural Rick Russell Knows More About Baseball Than I Do" competition. (It should be noted, there was an entry better then mine, but since he didn't feel the terms were fair, he was unwilling to turn over the dollar upon failure, and therefore negated his opportunity to receive the crisp Grant portrait. Sad news for him, lucky news for me.)
Even though the major awards haven't been announced yet, based on the point spread and likelihood of my opponent picking up those points, it's all over but the shouting. The only way for me to have defeat snatched out of the jaws of victory hinges on Chris Carpenter, Albert Pujols, Joba Chamberlain and Josh Hamilton. If three or more of them win their respective awards, I'll lose. Now, Pujols is a lock, and Carpenter has a good case, and I think Lincecum will take it, but those other two...no chance. None.
And even chalking up those point to Jared, I would still win by 3 points. I know. Far closer then anyone expected, but there you have it. This is what happens when you don't care about the NL. He gained 34 points, not including individual awards, in NL related categories. That's a whooping. Now I know how Randy Johnson feels when he has to step in the batter's box.
So to Jared, you kept in interesting, but alas, have fallen short. You'll be getting an email with the spreadsheet. Consider this a notice that I'm looking forward to your inscribed dollar bill.
Word.
PS-I now understand why Mike is a Yankees fan. It's great to cheer for the favorite, especially when they win. Regardless, White Sox till the casket drops.

I Will Buy You That Big House, Way Up In The West Hills

You want to know one of the best parts about moving somewhere? Having a whole slew of new facebook friend requests. Yes, it's petty and unbelievably superficial, but that's what makes it awesome. Go ahead, and tell me you aren't immediately intrigued and excited when you see that '1 new friend request', or better yet, the '2 new friend requests' icon at the top right corner. You are. We all are. We all like to know that people find us interesting and that people would actually like to get to know us. Of course, saying that sending out a friend request implies both or either of those is a stretch, but I don't care. I like to stroke the ego and take the opportunities that come to do so.

However, it does bring me to some of my more hypocritical moments. If you are my facebook friend, which I'm sure you must be because I have no clue how else you would even find this blog, then you know that the only things in the "Boxes" tab I have are lexulous, scramble and wordtwist. That's right. Three scrabble-esque, how many words do you know, games. And yes, I'm pretty good at all three. I still don't know how I lost that one game of lexulous, and truth be told, I think the other guy cheated (Sitterud beat me. Tell me he's not above using some website to come up with the best word possible from his tray. Go ahead. Don't mind my laughing. Continue.).

The point is, my profile beyond the interests tab, is about as blank as it can be. But I will tell you this. Whenever I get a new friend, the first thing I do is check out if they have bumper stickers and/or flair. I simply can't get enough of them. They kill me. And I have to look through all of them. Friend request from someone with 85 stickers and 75 pieces of flair at 12:45am? Guess I'm busy until 1:10 looking through them all. So what if I have a midterm tomorrow morning? I've got new stickers to look at! I'm busy here!

But you'll never see me put either of those up on my account. Ever. Mostly because I will likely add every single one that they have onto my profile. I would make an add-on that would simply stream the new ones onto my profile as soon as they were available. I would have them sent to my email and cell phone so I could see them as soon as they were hatched. And it would be an all-consuming activity for me. I simply can't afford it. It's the same reason I'm abstaining from reading the Harry Potter series. I know they're good. I simply don't want to sign off on a month or so of my life to knock the collection out. It might even be worth it, but I can't justify knowingly spending a month on a kid wizard.

Plus, it opens the door for the Twilight four-peat. I'll have none of that. Not now, not ever. I watched that first movie, and all I could think was, "Wow, this is some poor acting", "This seems horribly low budget" and "I'm so glad I'm never reading this". (It turns out that while the first and the last are subjective, the middle one is completely objective. The entire cost for the first film was about $37M, not including the sketchy marketing figures. To put that in perspective, 'The Devil Wears Prada' was $35M and 'Sweet Home Alabama" was $38M. And neither of those movies had special effects, and both had A-list actors and came off much more well done.)

So even though it is more than a tad bit hypocritical, I love the opportunity to see other people's favorite bumper stickers, but refuse to collect all of mine for others to enjoy. I just can't afford right now to start going down that road. There are too many time-dependent activities in my life that are marginally, if not substantially more important (e.g. med school). I'm sorry, but I just can't do it right now. Maybe in four years. Maybe.

Word.

I'm Gonna Muster Every Ounce Of Confidence I Have And Cannonball Into The Water

It's taken me about a month, but I've determined that a large part of being successful at medical school is realizing what not to learn, in addition to what you should learn. For example, right now, there is some guy showing us how to do a field test to check on cranial nerve damage. It's somewhat interesting, but mostly irrelevant at this juncture. We have studied the cranial nerves, and do need to know their purpose, however, we don't need to know how to verify functionality. Hence, I've taken the time to run this post up, especially considering it has been almost a month since last updating.

A lot has happened in the past month. We've already taken one mid-term and are getting ready for the second one in about a week and a half. I've dissected more muscles and structures than a lot people could handle hearing about before lunch. (You never look at a face the same way again after peeling the skin off, yanking the brain out, and then cutting the skull into quarters like and apple. Same with arms. I don't see forearms, I see a group of muscles and how they interact to flex the fingers.) I've learned that the church can function relatively normally, even when there are only active 30 members. I've dealt with not having vehicular transportation at my fingertips. And I've missed The Girlfriend dearly.

Beyond that, life has been great. I'm enjoying my time here (as much as you can while studying ridiculous amounts). Right now, I'm getting ready to sign a lease for the upcoming year. I found a place that is really safe, nice and new, and only a six minute walk away. Pretty ideal. However, I was talking with an agent and they said they had one for $300 less a month in an area called Point Pirouette. This area is beautiful as it is surrounded by the lagoon on three sides and a the golf course on the other. But it's that golf course that is a problem. Around here, that is the most dangerous place to be at night. In orientation meetings, we were told that the first, second and seventh rules about going to school here were to avoid the golf course at night.

So living there would be a big problem if I had to walk through there. However, it is only about a 100 yards by water between the tip of the area and the school. I was genuinely debating whether it would be worth it to get a canoe and row back and forth between class, or spending a little extra for a motor. You figure saving $300 a month should offset those costs quickly. And worse comes to worse, I can swim that distance in a matter of minutes. Sure, I would need to bring a change of clothes as well as my books in a water proof container, but $300 a month?
It was very tempting, but I just didn't want to have to deal with that hassle. So I'll go to the nicer
place down the road.

Also, ask me how excited I am about the new RW/RR challenge "The Ruins" that premiered on Wednesday? Tremendously. My love for these shows is well documented, and this season does not seem likely to disappoint. I do have a dilemma with this one. I've been an Evan fan ever since he and Coral were dominating Fresh Meat. I still am, but part of me, the part I don't like to talk about at parties, secretly enjoys watching Wes try to wrest control from him and the others. And the fact that Kenny stole his fiancee (or is it fiance? What's the rule on this?) adds a whole new layer of awesome to everything. I'm very excited to watch this.

Well, that was all over the place.

Word.

I Need You Like A Penny Needs A Wishing Well

In no particular order, here is a list of things that I have recently either found and love, or rediscovered and love:

1. Chocolate pudding cups. Wow. They're fantastic. Nothing cools you off after a long hot day like a couple chocolate pudding cups. Maybe it's a combination of the stroll down memory lane and the fantastic texture, all mixed with chocolotasticity, but it is fantastic. Easily the best purchase I made to start off the semester.

2. ESPN.com's fan passport. It's like a memory vault for every sporting event you've ever been to. You go in, find your MLB, NCAAF, NFL, whatever team, and then select the games you've been to, and it let's you jot a couple notes about it, and then rank the experience. Then it stores it for you so in case you ever need to pull it up (read journal, scrapbook, blackmail), it's there for you. Fantastic. I spent about 25 minutes making sure I had listed every baseball stadium I had been to, and every major sporting event I had attended. Some of the minor ones I left off, like I didn't list that I had gone to spring training games in the summer of 1993. But I definitely did. Many.

3. Skype. Ask me how much I pay to call all over the US as much as I want? $3. That's it. No joke. It's amazing. The hitch is that you have to be hooked up to the internet, but with wifi everywhere and a connection in my room, that's no problem at all. Need to ask the parents about travel arrangements? Done. Cougs just upset the #3 ranked team in the nation? Phone ringing off the hook. Issue with a credit card? Taken care of. From anywhere, to anywhere. $3. Beautiful.

4. Wearing a ball cap. Love it. I had gotten out of the habit of it for several reasons. I wouldn't wear it on days I had to work because I knew it would jack up my hair and I didn't want to re-do it. I didn't wear one on days where I had to act professional (ok, so that might be a stretch. More like on days that I had to interact with people and didn't want them to think I was an immature adolescent, and yes, this included trips to walmart), for much the same reason. And I rarely wore them on days when I was going to see The Girlfriend. I don't think that needs to be explained. However, here on my rock, other than class, there is no one I really need to impress. My classmates don't care anywhere near as much about fashion as people at BYU did (which I didn't really notice until I got here, but wow, Provo and Belmont in particular are ridiculously superficial. I fully believe that moving to Belmont ensured that I would graduate single.) so this Saturday I decided to go with my beloved Cal-State Fullerton cap. It felt like a slice of heaven, deep-fried and wrapped in bacon. Honestly, I think I'm going to make Saturday mandatory cap day and Sunday, after church, mandatory basketball shorts and T-shirt day. Done and done.

5. Boy Meets World. Cory, Topenga, Shawn, Eric, Feeny. I have seasons 4-7 on my laptop. It's like 100 episodes. Set for at least the semester. You want to bring a smile to my face, ask me about my deep and abiding love for Boy Meets World. Better yet, want to bring a bigger smile to my face, ask Mike about my deep and abiding love for Boy Meets World.

6. French Bread. It's what we use for the sacrament here. I know it doesn't change the ordinance, but it certainly is a little more incentive to get there on time.

7. The Oven. For years, (yes years) I had mocked Mike for using an oven for all of his heating demands. He'd put chicken nuggets in there instead of using the far more efficient microwave. It would blow my mind because I would already be half done with my meal by the time the oven had pre-heated. Give me convenience over quality was my motto. Lately, I've come to see his point. The taste comparison...isn't even a comparison. Made some chicken nugget parmigiana (go ahead, act like you couldn't see me doing this. My only question is, has anyone else ever heard of it? If not, I'm so calling it a new creation), and decided to use the oven. I figured if I had to wait for the noodles to boil, why not see how things turn out if use the oven. How, you ask? Fantastically. That's how they turned out. Now I'm hooked. I don't even have a baking sheet. I'm literally just laying aluminum foil on the rack and placing the meat on the foil. Clean up is a breeze and it tastes great. I'm sold.

Word

The Mate Was A Mighty Sailing Man, The Skipper Brave And Sure

For the first time in over a year, I find myself back in a lecture hall. But this is nothing like BYU. For starters, the class is substantially more... diverse than any class I had at the Y, and this school doesn't have an athletics program. But most notably, I'm only in class for 5.5 hours a day at the most. Some days it's only going to be 3.5. That's it. I can't remember ever having a semester where I averaged under 6 hours of class a day, and the only time I had less than four hours of class a day was when I set my schedule around the idea of every weekend being a three day weekend (which, for those of you still in school, I highly recommend. It's worth the time and trouble to look into the possibility of scheduling all your classes Monday through Thursday. It would be even more worth it if you could get a couple people together to do the same. That way you all have the same stellar three day weekend every weekend. Believe me when I tell you, there is no where you can't get to, enjoy, and get back from in three days.)

It does make for light days, but it also has led me to study for more hours than I care to account for. It's not too bad, but I can easily see why some of the 4th or 5th semesters are just counting down the weeks.

Then again, we do live on a tropical island. A tiny, tropical island, but a tropical island nonetheless. How tiny you ask? This tiny:

Just the blob, not the whole square, represents the to scale size of the island. Amazingly tiny compared to anything else. But I'll take it.

Word.

Try Restaurants I've Never Been To, Order New Things Off The Menu

So, I drove all the way from the west coast of my island to the east. Guess how long it took? 45 minutes. With traffic that seemed about as heavy as the roads could handle. I could loop the whole thing in about 1:30 I think. And that's not even in more car. In my car, I could run around the compass in an hour.

Which brings me to the main point I wanted to address. I really miss my car. No, like really miss it. (Not as much as I miss The Girlfriend, but almost.) Everytime I look around here I try to gauge how long it would take to get there and I always figure it out as though I was driving. Well, I'm not going to be driving, especially not my car. Bamboo shunt pain. I have spent my life driving at all possible opportunities. Need to go to the corner to get milk? Driving. Need to move a roommate across the apartment complex? Trunk is open. Need to pay for gas after filling up? I'm pulling into the parking spots near the door. (Yes, I have really done that. More than once.)

Now, it's all pedestrain means for me. I might even buckle and buy a bicycle. I have not rode a bike since the mission, and have vowed never to again. But, when church is an hour walk away, that's not really an option. I don't walk an hour for anything. I think the last time I walked for an hour was on the mission. And then I hated walking because I knew there were a host of better options.

So yeah, I really miss my car. Like really.

Word.

Everytime I Do It Makes Me Laugh

Ok so I have to run a photo dump for the past couple weeks. I really don't think a lot of them need a lot of explanation, but here we go. Also, they're pretty much in reverse chronological order. Sorry, but not flipping them. But to give you a recap of where they were taken, in Photo order, I belive it is Dominican Republic, Puerto Rico, Boston, Baltimore, DC, and Philly. And that, along with 90+ hours spent driving around in my car, has been my August. Not kidding.

Word.

You Know That I Could Use Somebody

I'm a tenderfoot scout. It is as low on the totem pole as it sounds. I've gotten some ribbing over it occasionally, but it is what it is. In my defense, they didn't have merit badges in baseball or contra so it didn't really draw me in. I enjoyed going to scout camp every summer and have sash full of merit badges to prove it, but I never did the little things to move up to the upper ranks. Little things like cooking a meal over a firepit, or camping X consecutive nights. To be honest, I don't see how any of that can be difficult. If a group of twelve-year-old pyromaniacs can execute it perfectly, surely I can handle it.

Went camping the other night. I know, it may be hard to believe, but it happened. Barely. Almost spent the night in the car. We pulled into the campsite around 11:30pm, and began setting up the tent using my car's headlights for illumination. We roll it, and stake it out and my brother slides one of the support poles through the top. He gets to lift it, and I realize that it would probably be a nightmare to slide the other one through with the top already arched. So we pull the other bar out and watch as it falls apart into about six pieces. The elastic cord that holds them all together had snapped about of third of the way down. It took over 30 minutes to re-thread them all, at one point I had to use dental floss and medical tape to get it all done.

So to you all you self-righteous eagle scouts (if they even exist), eat it. This tenderfoot got it done. I actually took a picture.

To tell you the truth, lately I have had too many things going on to allow me a significant amount of time to give anyone a full update on things, or formulate any extemporaneous ideas. That camping story came about because my brother and I went to Atlanta to watch the Braves get to Tim Lincecum and then caught Rascal Flatts and Darius Rucker perform their own songs as well as some old school Hootie and the Blowfish tracks. Drove up one night, caught the game, camped, drove down the next day and caught the concert on the way. You ask why, I ask, as always, why not.

The kicker is that it is only going to get more hectic over the next 17 days. In that time period I will drive over 4000 miles, traverse across 12 states, watch ball games in 5 different parks and makes two independent trips to the west coast of Florida. Oh, and then how about I pack up for a two week trip to two different islands, and then head off to a third to start medical school. Believe me when I say that I had to cancel a date night with The Girlfriend just so I could spend one night with my parents to celebrate my brother's belated birthday and talk about how things will be while I'm at school. Tonight is my last unplanned night for the next... I don't know really.

Needless to say, there are still stories that should be shared because funny stuff happens. And everyone needs a good laugh.

So, I'm at church with the Girlfriend, and in walks the former girlfriend. She was visiting a mutual friend that was in town for the weekend. Between Sunday School and priesthood, mutual friend and former girlfriend were in the lobby just chatting with people. I started talking with the mutual friend and looked over to see my granddad talking with the former. Now, you have to realize that there is nothing odd about my granddad walking up to unknown girls sixty years his junior and starting conversation.

After a couple minutes, I started heading into priesthood. Granddad had been talking with someone else for a little bit, but he shanghai'd me. He leads me over and introduces me to the former, calling her by a completely incorrect name. I gently tapped him on the shoulder, told him her real name, and told him, "I already know her. I know her pretty well."

He doesn't say a thing. Just flashes the old man Oops grin, turns and walks away. Hilarious.

It also should be noted that The Girlfriend became admittedly territorial upon seeing the former walk in. It was great.

Word.

So I Reached Out To Kanye And Brought You All My Dreams

An angel lost its wings this past Friday. At the same time, another angel got theirs. I had a dream and had done an excellent job making that dream a reality. You see, I wanted to live my life so that I never, ever, mowed a lawn. Ever. I made it through my teenage years and my mission having successfully dodged numerous "opportunities" to mow a lawn. I can't begin to tell you how close things got. At least once, I was mere steps away from grasping the handles and laying waste to all things over 2" tall, only to be reprieved.

Last Friday, it all came to an abrupt end. I was working on a rental home my dad owns, and had spent the better part of the morning scraping both sides of some 30 panes of glass with a razor blade. It sounds about as much fun as it is, but unfortunately, nothing else was left for me to do besides mowing the lawn. Reluctantly, I grasped the handle I had spent the last 26 years of my life avoiding. (For the record, I did know how to both start and use the mower. It did take me a while to realize how to use the clutch, but nevertheless, I got the job done.)

And like that an angel fell. However, the celestial balance was restored almost immediately.

Even though I had never mowed a lawn, I knew that there was a technique used to optimized efficiency and aesthetics. I also knew that I didn't know it. But Mike does. I sent him a text asking him what pattern(s) I should run. I get back a series of ha ha ha's and then a phone call explaining to frame the yard a couple times than go across the middle with a snake pattern.

And an angel is born. You see, Mike had a dream that I would one day mow a lawn. Actually, he has a dream that I'll spend my life doing every manual labor job imaginable. Granted, in his dream I'm successful and still able to hold season tickets to the local baseball team, but manual labor it is. Let's just say, he might win small battles, but the war is mine.

Also, to bring finality to things, Florida State said no, so I'll be heading down to St. Martin's in the caribbean for medical school. I know, it will be rough spending the next two years or so in a tropical paradise, but I will have to manage. The school is called American University of the Caribbean, or AUC. It's on a rock 36 square miles big. That's like Provo and Orem. Maybe some Lindon thrown in. I'm pretty psyched about it to be honest. It's almost like a second mission, only I don't have to wear a tie, can call home when I want, and don't have to worry about a companion. Ok, so maybe it's nothing like a mission. Forget you. I think it is.

Word.

Did You Forget About Me Mr Duplicity

"Paging Avril Lavigne. Paging Avril Lavigne. Please pick up the white courtesy phone for your message from jilted teenage girls."

So I was watching a show called Video Yearbook. It's on Fuse and it's fantastic. They show some of the most prominent music video's from a year, and the viewer cringes/applauds/dances along to what they used to love and illegally download. For example, 2004 included "I love the way you move" by Outkast. What happened to them? They had a slew of hits, and faded away after they made that movie Idlewild. Did anyone watch this? No seriously, I don't know anyone who at any point watched it. And yet, it clearly marks the death of one of the biggest bands from 2000-2004.

The 2004 show also included "So much for my happy ending" by the aforementioned Ms Lavigne (or Mrs Whibley, if you're on personal terms with her. At least according to IMDB. Want to see an impressive bio? Check out Avirl's on IMDB. Favorite part "One of her songs...is about an ex-boyfriend", implying that only one is about an ex-boyfriend.). She also had a solid career, but then dropped off the earth, save the out of character single "Girlfriend" which turned out to be the most downloaded song of 2007. (Really? Yeah, really. In the world. Not kidding. What type of aural garbage was being pumped out in 2007 that would allow "Girlfriend" to be the most downloaded song? Amazing, in a shameful way.) What I'm wondering, though, is what happened to the angry Avril that got her poster put on the wall of every girl aged 14-20 who just lost a boyfriend? Every five to ten years it seems someone like her comes along. Before Avril was Alanis Morrissette, who won six grammy awards for writing angry songs about past relationships.

My question is, who's today? Is there someone filling that musical void? That is a money reservoir that needs to be tapped. The closest person to filling that would be the country artist Miranda Lambert, but even she doesn't fit the profile, nor fill the need. Of one thing I am certain, and that is that there is a generation of teenage girls getting their hearts broken and being forced to play 5-10 year old songs to fully express their anger about it all. Those songs are probably sufficient, but none of them deal with today's relationship nuances. None have to deal with texting, facebook, myspace, twitter, or even email. Really? No break up songs about being dumped via electronic means? Now that is a gap that needs to be closed. If I was a music producer, I would be on the street tomorrow looking for some girl around age 18 who had just a little bit of edge, and then have my cadre of writers prepare some songs with a hint of vitriol. It's a no-brainer.

Word

Look What You've Done To This Rock And Roll Clown

So, I was given some static for not mentioning that Jared was on the trip. Here's why: I didn't have any pictures of him at the time. Now I do. So let's review the blessed time that Jared spent in St. Louis. For starters, we found the only Jimmy John's in the known world to close before eleven, forcing us to find a steak n' shake for Friday night. Funny story about that.

We sit down and a group gets seated next to us. They consist of about three guys, who the smart money would put as gay, and one elderly woman who reminded me of what Cruella Deville might look like when she hit her seventies. Anyway, we finish and were on our way out, and one of the guys asks Jared to play the crane game for the old lady. He politely turns it down. However, I over hear it, and turn to face them. Next thing I know, I'm getting dollar bills thrust into my hand to try and win stuffed animals in a crane game. I wish I could tell you I was successful, but alas, I was not. Four tries, zero victories.

The next day, we went to the Cardinals game. And it was awesome. Opposite of this photo. We gave the camera to a teenager who's gender was indeterminate. They took stared at the screen, and squeezed the trigger without any warning, freezing this frame forever. Thanks.

Thankfully, we had enough time to give the camera to someone who knew what they were doing, who took that picture. You'll notice it's essentially the same as the one above it, without all the suck.

That night, I questioned whether Jared was my friend or not. It was a dreary evening. The type that makes you wonder if the sun will ever rise again. We strolled into a bowling alley straight out of the sixties. (Really cool place to bowl. Would highly recommend it to all in the area.) I should let you know that I'm not a fan of the 60's in general. This should have been a sign that things were not going to go well.

Also, it needs to be noted that prior to this evening, I had dominated the head-to-head competition with The Girlfriend. Something like 9-1. Not even close. Needless to say, I was not concerned about beating her again. We bowled the first game, and by the fifth frame, I knew that A) I was playing horribly, and B) I was going to lose to The Girlfriend. Of course, that only means we're bowling a second game so I can regain my throne. Here's where things get bad.

I started off weak, but caught back up in the late frames. I finished the tenth frame and sat down comfortably with a 20 pin lead. The Girlfriend was up next. Jared leans over to me and says that all she needs is strike-strike-one to beat me. Now, my friends love me, and I love them. However, they really love to see me lose. A lot. Like, Jared was high fiving The Girlfriend after every strike and spare. I participated in no such celebrations.

Hence it came as no surprise, and I had done the same math on my own, that Jared figured out exactly what was needed to beat me. The Girlfriend had bowled decent, but was flirting with the 100 mark, so clearly thinking that she would get more than 20 in the tenth was a bit extreme. I figured 20 was the best she would do and we would walk away in a tie. She rolls the first ball, and its a strike. No big deal. I'm a little nervous, but even blind squirrels find nuts every now and then. The second ball gets rolled, and again all ten drop. Now I'm bewildered. I know that she has rolled a gutter ball before, but why would she do anything other than just safely roll it down the middle. Accepting a good loss, I already had my shoes off when she let the third ball go. What does she do? Does she go down the middle and pick up six or seven? No. Of course not. She picks off the ten pin and the ten pin only. Strike-Strike-One. To win by one. Simply beside myself. The other four going nuts. Again, all my friends love to see me lose. This sick turn of fortune over shadowed Jared's 170 or so, and everyone remembered the XX1 that was recorded. So much so that I was texted it. Twice. I wanted no part of anything that had to do with that episode.

Coolest statue I've ever seen. If they had miniatures, I would have one already. Even the horse was fat. Loved it.

Word.

But You've Got To Learn To Reach Out There And Grab It

Just got back from a great trip to St. Louis. Quite a whirlwind thanks to an assortment of activities and dining locations. Big kudos to Brett and Brittney for not only chaffeuring us around the town, but showing us the places otherwise left unseen by casual vacations. I don't normally do this whole picture show thing. Mostly because I don't normally take pictures. However, Brittney has sent me a little over a dozen, and The Girlfriend has a host of them that I'll get from her later. Hence, I'll share those from my sister now, and the rest later.

So we went to the Arch, but there was quite a line. Needing to kill roughly an hour, we went to the museum of Missourian history attached to the Arch. Let's just say, don't change plans to attend this place. It was quaint and informational, but could have been infinitel better if they would just let you ride the Bison, or other assorted display animals. Where's the harm in that? I say none.

Something about the arch, for those of you that haven't been. If you have any claustraphobia, avoid this site. You ride up in a cylinder on its side that can't be more than four feet deep and six feet in diameter. With four other people. Up 60 stories. To a railway car with tiny windows. That sways in the wind. Stuffed with 80-100 people. Nightmare waiting to happen.

Luckily, neither of us were claustraphobic, so it was great. We then traipsed over to Soldier's Monument for Rib Fest. I know. A celebration of meat on a bone, how could I not attend. Easily, the best ribs I've ever had. Hands down. Fantastic. Should have figured out how to have them mailed to me.

Ok, let's be real. Like I would plan a vacation during the summer of fall to some city that didn't have a ballclub, or that I would go there and not attend a game. Really? Do you not know me? I planned St. Louis for two reasons. One- My sister lived there, and I've never visited her since she moved there. Two- The Cardinals were in town that weekend. No brainer really. Nice to see the Royals get beat.

Best, maybe second best to the game, part of the trip was the various dining locations Brittney and Brett took us to. I have this thing. When I travel, I refuse to go to chain restaurants unless I have to for safety or sanitary reasons. Why go to some new place if you're not going to try the local cuisine? Seems like a bit of a waste to me. Knowing this, we never went to a place that had more than a handful locations, and most of those were still in town. Perfect. Great food all over that town. Big ups to the local recommendations.

Word.

Inhale, Exhale, Heard Your Clientele Doing Well

Next name that I'm crossing off the list of people I saw play: Albert Pujols. Tomorrow, if you're in the St. Louis metropolitan area and feel like spending some time at a premiere sporting event, you can join me, the girlfriend, the sister and Jared at the Cardinals-Royals game, cheering wildly for the home team.

Ok, I need to clarify a little. I have already seen The Machine play. But it was back in his rookie season of 2001. I was in San Francisco and by happenstance the Giants were playing them over the same weekend. So yeah, in one game, I saw McGwire, Bonds, and Pujols.

Now it is hard to say that I didn't see him in top form, considering he's been ridiculously, consistently good since he laced it up the first time, but now he is simply amazing. Why pitchers pitch to him I'll never know. In all honesty, I think I would let Santana pitch to him, and that's about it. Everyone else, just roll it four times. He will beat you. He's just that good. And so help me, if he test positive, it would just make me sick.

Which brings me to Manny. Easily, his positive result was the most painful to take. I hoped that we had turned the corner and the steroids era was either A) coming to a close, or B) fading back into the shady background. And either is fine by me. No really. I take them both as the same, and have no particular preference. As long as I don't have to hear about it, I'm fine with it. Let it die.

Word.

It's Amazing, I'm the Reason, Everybody's Fired Up This Evening

So I have a more pressing point that I will spend the bulk of this post addressing, but first I feel obligated to posit the following theory:


Tiger is on the decline and will not eclipse Jack Nicklaus's record of 18 career majors.


Now, some might say this is premature. And it likely is, but I'm a man who is apt to go out limbs, prone to leap without looking, (For the sake of all things good and holy, go watch Star Trek. I'm by no means a trekkie, but that movie was absolutely phenomenal. It went perfectly right by staying away from the intricacies about how warp drives work or how time-space is woven, and stayed with simple characters following a simple plot. There's a good chance I'll catch a matinee sometime this week. You should too.) and so I have made some early calls. However, in the first couple months of this PGA season, I am yet to see anything resembling the Tiger of old. His shots are erratic. His focus is shaken, and his competitive drives seems diminished. I hope he re-tools his swing, but even that might not be enough. Remember, he went through essentially reconstructive knee surgery. This is not a hang nail. It's the knee that made Augusta lengthen the course. Countless athletes are forced to hang it up because they can't come back like they were.

Thankfully for Tiger, his B game is better than 95% of the tour's A+ game, so he doesn't need to come back full strength to win, but I don't think he'll come back enough to win another five majors. I simply don't believe it.


But here's what I wanted to spend some time on. I was watching tv with the girlfriend, and on came the trailer for "Ghosts of Girlfriends Past". She turned and said something to the effect of, "that looks like a good movie. We should go watch it." I looked to her and said that if she wanted to go see it, that that was great. I however, would not be sitting next to her. She was a little dismayed, so I had to tell her why. "I'm done with Matthew McConaughey romantic comedies. I've seen all he has to offer, and I am not particularly fond of it. I'm done with him."


And I am. I really am. I loved How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, but all of his other efforts are weak at best. As far as I'm concerned, his talent well has ran dry. Obviously, to say I wouldn't go to the movies with the girlfriend wasn't for real, but she believed it, (and might be a little upset that I'm saying now that I would have actually gone to it with her. Conveniently, I was out of town for it's release weekend, so I never had to deal with the issue, but I clearly have given myself a new issue to deal with) and hence, went to see it with a friend. I don't think I'll watch it at all. Possibly ever.


This leads me to the following two lists: the actors who's movies I will never watch, and those who's I will always watch. The second one, regretfully for my wallet, is significantly longer. This is because actors who I don't like, tend to be poor actors, and quickly wind up unemployed. Regardless, I feel it good to put these lists out there as well as a couple of guys who are teetering on the edges of these lists. And for clarification, these are all time dependent, meaning I will only avoid/attend their movies released from now on.

The Matthew McConaughey Miserables:

Matthew McConaughey, Sylvester Stallone, Johnny Depp, Jordana Brewster (she is horrible, and not that hot when compared to other hollywood-ites. She would blow normal people away, but she has set herself apart from normals and has done so to her detriment), and Sarah Jessica Parker.

Those who just might fall in: Hugh Grant (show me something new), Eva Longoria (see Brewster above), Kevin Costner (his baseball movies are keeping him out), Jessica Biel, and Will Ferrell (To his credit, he always delivers what you expect him to, but that's it. He's going to have a couple of lines from each movie that people are going to quote for months, but that's mostly because of it's non-sensical nature. He seems like a less intelligent Vince Vaughn, which says something. He has one character, and I'm quickly getting tired of it.)


I simply don't enjoy the product these people put out.


The Harrison Ford All-Stars:

Harrison Ford (Although that last Indiana Jones really hurt him), Will Smith (he gets my $8.50 without question), Simon Pegg, Matt Damon, Tom Cruise (I don't care if he's crazy, he's great on the screen),Leo DiCaprio, Justin Long, Jennifer Aniston and Julia Roberts.


On the fringe: Shia LeBeouf (did he make an Even Stevens movie, because if so, that might his only blemish on an otherwise impressive resume), Owen Wilson, Rachel McAdams, Reese Witherspoon and Christian Bale.


Sure, they may not be perfect, but they're pretty close. I do love them, and I support them with my finances.

Word.

Blame It On The Goose

Watching Tommy Boy, and almost laughed off the couch during the opening scene where that fat kid who only has like five lines drills the sliding glass door. How awesome is this movie? I say a solid 9.8 out of ten. Still the funniest movie I've ever seen. I sure do miss Chris Farley. Nobody could fall through a coffee table like him.
So, two weeks into the season, and I'm already embarrassed I picked the Yankees to go beyond September. Looks like another season with fingers crossed over Phil Hughes's development.
Let the world rejoice with the resuming of Real World/ Road Rules: The Duel. It looks like another season of top notch competition and sluttery. My favorite part of this season, the fact that Bill Simmons dedicates about 20 minutes of his weekly podcast to discussing it. I was driving to Tallahassee and absolutely dying listening to it. Honestly, laughing so hard I was slapping the steering wheel and wiping away tears. Priceless.
Which I guess brings me to the most pivotal event of the past two weeks for me. I had an interview with FSU's medical school. I think it went really well, but won't find out until the end of this week at the earliest, and about a month from now at the latest. If I don't get accepted there, I have been accepted to the American University of the Caribbean School of Medicine, and will start there in the fall. It's a good school, and is on the island of St. Maartens, which I'm told is lovely. Hopefully though, I'll get into the FSU and not have to worry about going abroad for school.
Wow, this has been pretty incoherent and disjointed. Mostly, I'm slapping something up here because my girlfriend asked me to. She's awesome, so I'm willing to forgo my typical writing process in order to get this posted. Enjoy.
Word.

You Gon Sweat Your Outfit Out Trying To Dance Like Me

It's been celebrated, anticipated, and for the past month feared, but at long last here it is. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the 2009 Baseball Predictions. This also doubles as the house's entry in the "Rick Russell knows more about baseball than I do" contest. Print it out. Put it on your wall, and watch the prognostications become reality. I'll give the overviews first, and then the actual numbers all together at the end.
To the American League first, the East in particular.
How about them Rays! For the first time since Jeter put pinstripes on, he was watching October baseball on his couch. That's right, every year from 1995 the Yanks were in the playoffs until last year, when the Rays surprised everyone, including their momma's. So what do the Bronx Bombers do? Only what they do best. Go out and get the best talent on the market. Sabathia, Texeiria, and even Burnett. And, they'll still be spending less this year than they did for the 89 win stinker they put up. Now, why did they end up with that few wins? Simple. Kennedy and Hughes were nowhere near what they had been hyped to be. Not even close. I said last year that they should have shipped them both for Johan paid that man his money, and I still say they should have done it. They would have made the playoffs easily, and the way things shake out, probably be celebrating A-rod's first title. (Side bar, had they won, and then the A-fraud/Yuri Sucart scenario unfolded, what a nightmare would that have been?)
Needless to say, they will be a contender all season long this year. The Rays won't be sneaking up on people, but still will be strong as they've kept their entire rotation, added Jason Isringhausen (yes I know he's on the decline and has been for years, but it's a great veteran presence for a very young staff) and Pat Burrell. Boston has been caught asleep at the wheel if you ask me. They should have done what was necessary to get Tex, even if that means moving Youk to third and benching Lowell. The Blue Jays and the Orioles... best of luck in the most loaded division in baseball. In the end, I'm giving this to, and yes it pains me to type it, the Yankees, followed by the Rays, Red Sox, Blue Jays and Orioles.
Central Division
A round of applause for the division champions White Sox. Good, now they need to get back to work. Kenny Williams, I'm looking at you. The usually active Sox have been extremely quiet this offseason. With only one trade and one signing, everyone, once again, is in the dark as to what the GM has in mind. The only concern is that I have no idea what they can do at this point in the year. A lot of big names are off the board, and a couple of the notable free agents are trying to earn contracts in the World Baseball Classic (The Netherlands?? Twice over the Dominicans? Really? I would have bet that Mike would buy a Carl Pavano jersey before that happened) but nothing seems promising, hence the Bartolo Colon signing. I kid you not, I'm raising my boys to be big league pitchers. As long as you can consistently hit 92 on the gun, it doesn't matter what you look like or what you've done before, you'll always have a job.
That smell in the room, that's the turd the Tigers laid last season. They made the biggest move in the offseason and dealt the bulk of their prospective talent for Willis and Cabrera. And wound up with 74 wins in dead last. Yikes. Cleveland was saved by Cliff Lee's ridiculous season from being the butt of all Central jokes. I'm not expecting a repeat performance by him. The Twins had a great team, but lost the division in the 163 game of the season. Now they've upgraded at third by picking up Joe Crede, but beyond that, much of the same for the Twinkies. Good, not great.
I'm taking the White Sox, then the Indians, Twins, Tigers, and Royals, in a close division.
West
When you win your division by 21 games, it's hard to say that any improvement made by other teams can close the gap. The Angels did lose K-rod, but Fuentes is a solid replacement. They also picked up Abreu, who is an upgrade over Garret Anderson in right. In the end, I call that a wash, but will have to take off a couple wins because the anomaly that was K-rod's saves record will not be repeated. Oakland, in what can only be described as anti-moneyball moves, acquired Giambi, Holliday, and Orlando Cabrera, all substantial upgrades. Is it enough to close the gap? I say no. Seattle gets Junior back (and if you don't know who I mean when I say Junior, I'm sorry for you. You truly have been deprived of one of the most celestial things) which should help ease the pain of watching everyone else on this team not named King Felix or Ichiro. How'd that Erik Bedard deal work out for you? Not good, huh? Texas has the great story of Josh Hamilton, but that's all they have. You don't win a division with a story. You can lose one, but you can't win one.
Give me the Angels, then the A's, Rangers, and Mariners
National League
East
To call the Phillies a fluke is not accurate. They played well and were in the right position for the past two years. It reminds of me of when Nick Faldo won the Master's because Greg Norman choked away a six stroke lead with 14 to play. Yeah, Faldo played well, but what mattered more was that Norman simply fell apart. As did the Mets. Just. Fell. Apart. I had no vested interest in that team, but it did make me hurt a little to watch it just slip away again after the nightmare of 2007. So what do the Mets do? Fix their shoddy bullpen. Twice. K-rod and JJ Putz come over to give them the best bullpen in the league. The Phillies return just as strong and ready to do some damage again, I just wonder if they have enough left in the tank after last year. We haven't a repeat champion since the yankees in 1999-2000 and haven't had a team go to the series in back to back years since the yanks in 2000-2001. And I don't see the Phillies ending that streak. Atlanta added a couple veteran arms, which should help, but not enough to become a contender with NY and Philadelphia. The Marlins are going to be my, not this year, but look out next year squad, just as the Rays were last year. They've got young talent and it's really starting to turn around. If their pitching can match their offense, they will take this division. I just don't think it will... this year. The Nationals... they're awful. I've watched a couple spring training games, and am wondering if they're holding tryouts. I think I could make their Double-A team.
Mets, Phillies, Marlins, Braves, Nationals
Central
The Cubs are still the premier team in this division, even despite the loss of Leon Johnson. The rest of this division is going to be battling closely for second. Except for the Pirates. They're battling against contraction.
Cubs, Cards, Astros, Brewers, Reds, Pirates.
West
Ask me how much I love Manny Ramirez. Bottomlessly. Everything he does entertains and excites me. I'll say it now, he should be MLB TV's first reality star. Manny being Manny. That's watch it live while you DVR it good.
Dodgers, D-backs, Giants, Rockies, Padres.
It's not obvious I care more about the American League than the National League is it?
Playoffs
ALDS
Yanks-White Sox (Yanks in 5)
Angels- Rays (Wild Card) (Rays in 4)

NLDS
Cubs-Dodgers (Dodgers in 4)
Mets-Cards(Wild Card) (Mets in 3)

ALCS
Yanks over Rays in 6

NLCS
Mets over Dodgers in 5

World Series
Yanks over Mets in 6

Individual Awards

All-Star Starters (in order around the diamond)
AL
Sabathia, Mauer, Tex, Pedroia, Arod, Jeter, Sizemore, Ichiro and Vlad
NL
Hamels, Russell Martin, Fielder, Utley, Wright, Reyes, Soriano, Manny, and Cameron Maybin

Cy Young
AL- Sabathia
NL- Hamels

MVP
AL- Tex
NL- Manny

ROY
AL- Elvis Andrus
NL- Cameron Maybin

Number of wins for each team
Yankees 98
Rays 97
Red Sox 92
Blue Jays 83
Orioles 68

White Sox 89
Indians 82
Twins 81
Tigers 80
Royals 68

Angels 96
A's 88
Rangers 80
Mariners 64

Mets 93
Phillies 86
Marlins 82
Braves 79
Nationals 57

Cubs 95
Cardinals 88
Astros 85
Brewers 81
Reds 71
Pirates 61

Dodgers 88
D-Backs 83
Giants 73
Rockies 71
Padres 68

Get your dollars bills out and your pens ready. Word.

Here's A Long Evasive Story, Of Failed Hopes And Glories

I'm dressed in a button up and tie, looking pretty good, if I say so myself. I look around what appears to be a grand foyer and notice a couple other people, all of whom also dressed professionally. Instantly, I know I'm not at work, but at school. Make that at a school. It's not BYU because I have been in every building in that campus and this doesn't resemble any of them. However, I'm not concerned with this seeming lapse of awareness.
A similarly dressed guy, roughly my age, is sitting next to me. He seems pleased with himself over something, and oddly, I feel the same sense of accomplishment. I make small talk, and eventually we both get up to leave, again, for no particular reason. Then comes the moment that I still remember as vividly as anything.
Me: So what brings you here?
Him: Medical school interviews. It's why we're all here.
Then, instead of rejoicing, I hang my head, and realize it's a dream. I start moving faster, frantically looking around for something to let me know that it was real, but I know all too well it's a dream. Suddenly, the sun fades a little, the walls become blurry. I start to say "This has to..." but then reality creeps in and I finish the sentence "be a dream" staring at my ceiling fan.
Easily, one of the most depressing ways to start off a morning.
When you realize your goal can only be found in dreams, it's an accomplishment to get out of bed that morning. That morning was about a week ago. I went back and forth over how to share this, or even to share this. In the end, it was 12:15am impulse that led me to the keyboard and resulted in this post. I wish there was some more poignant or rational reason, but there really isn't. And if you're reading this, that shouldn't be too much of a surprise to you.
Here's the point. I'm in the bottom of the ninth of my game against med school admissions, and I'm behind. No one knows better than me that technically, I could get called in for an interview in April, or even possibly May, but the realist in me says that if nothing happens by the end of the month, it's time to create new dreams. Ones that can be satisfied in the real world.
Pray for me.
Word.

I Wake Up Every Evening With A Big Smile On My Face

I just got a DVR, and it is a fantastic invention. I had to get my own because the communal one continued to delete my shows, sometime mysteriously, sometimes not so mysteriously. Needless to say, there were a dozen or so shows I needed to get on the schedule, but ask me what I recorded first? That's right, a show recounting the top 9 shortstops of all time. I honestly think that I have recorded at least one show from MLBTV everyday on average since getting the DVR.
The point is, baseball is life. I live for the Chicago White Sox. I really do. Well, them, cheese, bacon, and girls. Not necessarily in that order. Last year I put up predictions about the year, and did marginally well. I say that, because I did well with the American League, and was horrible with the National League, likely because I didn't bother to do any research on it.
It's a new year, and with that come new hopes, dreams, and prognostications.
I welcome you to the 1st annual Rick Russell Knows More About Baseball Than You Do competition.
Do I know more about baseball than you? I guess the better question is do you know more than I do. I'm willing to wager $50 that I know more than everyone else does.
Now, I don't expect you to put $50 up against me, because I don't many, if any people are willing to. So here's the deal. I'm giving $50 to the winner of a contest I'm setting up. The guidelines will be coming shortly. If there are two people that beat me, than whoever beats me by the largest margin will get $40, and the second largest margin will get $10.
Here's what I'm asking for from you. One dollar. That's it. But not just any plain dollar. On this dollar bill you must write "Rick Russell knows more about baseball than I do" and then sign it. That's it. For one dollar, you have a shot at $50. This is open to anyone and everyone.
So if you think you have a shot of knowing more about baseball than me, bring it on.
The guidelines are as follows:

Everyone will start with 100 points. They will then predict the amount of wins for every team. At the end of the season, we'll compare the actual results and you'll subtract a point for every game you are off.
Also, predictions will be made for the playoffs. You'll pick four teams to make the playoffs, and for each one you get correct, you'll get five bonus points. You'll also predict which teams will win their division or wild card, and each correct choice will garner another five points. Picking a correct team in the World Series will net an additional 15 points. And picking the World Series winner will garner 20 bonus points.
Those are the team criteria, but to help you regain the points you'll lose over the season, I've also included a 5 point bonus for properly selecting the MVP, CY Young, or ROY winners. And there will be a 2 point bonus per All-Star Game starter correctly selected.
Highest score wins, and if you score less than me, I get your dollar.
Simple enough?
For a shortcut version on the scoring rubric, here it is:
100 pt start.
Subtract the difference between each teams actual wins and your predicted amounts.
Add 5 points for each playoff team
Add 5 points for each correct playoff designation
Add 15 points for picking a World Series team
Add 20 points for picking the World Series winner
Add 5 points for picking a ROY, MVP or Cy Young winner
Add 1 point for picking an All-Star Game starter.
All entries must be emailed to rickrussell239@gmail.com by 11:59 PM EST on March 15th.

Total it up, sign your dollar and mail it to me when you realize that I beat you.
I'll be updating results on bi-weekly basis until the all-star game, and then on a weekly basis after that.
So there you have it. The gauntlet has been laid down, the challenge presented. Will you step up? It's open to anyone who is willing to sign over the dollar bill as indicated. Email your entries to rickrussell239@gmail.com, but know that I won't read then until March 16th. This way, I won't be influenced by your picks, and since I'm not putting mine up until the 16th, you won't be swayed by mine.
Word

Cause It's All In My Head, I Think About It Over And Over Again

I'm all for second chances. Shoot, if half of the people I ever met didn't give me one, I wouldn't have any friends. Because of this, I'm much more prone to dole out extra lives. Plus, every now and then I get surprised about things.

Take for example the movie "The Skulls". It rolled out in 2000 and featured Joshua Jackson (Charlie Conway from the Mighty Ducks) and Paul Walker and was a constant target of ridicule during high school. However, AMC, in their infinite and absolute wisdom and authority, has dubbed it a "new classic". I gave it another viewing recently and have to say, it is much better than I remembered. The ridiculous gaps that I thought existed (i.e. where did the expansive luxurious courtyard come from in the middle of college campus) were easily and believably resolved. I would actually recommend watching it, if you caught it on tv. It's not worth seeking out, and certainly not worth purchasing for anything over $2, but it is worth seeing.

The downside to giving things another shot is that often you discover that you wasted time and effort on something that still sucks. Case in point here has to be the movie "Down to You", another 2000 film.

This came out on video, much as the skulls did, when I was working at blockbuster. I venture to say that just about any major motion picture that hit VHS format immediately preceding or during the summer of 2000, I have seen at least once. And this one was one of the many that left me wanting my time back. It's simply horrible, going nowhere, bringing nothing to the table. It is the definition of half-baked. How did it get green-lit you ask? Simple. It was 1999 and the producers were told we already have Freddie Prinze Jr and Julia Stiles signed on as the leads.
(Can you name a bigger celebrity, Prinze that is, in our life time that burned out so quickly? Really, he was on top of the world for years. The I know what you did last summer series, she's all that, boys and girls, and not to forget that he married Sarah Michelle Gellar, and then after this movie, he went on to do the scooby-do movies and a slew of voice overs. In three years he went from A-list movie lead to nobody. Amazing.)

By the way, it was, and is, on MTV. When did they start getting movies, and why did they follow the forever classic Rudy with this turd? It does leave the door open for them to choose absolutely any other movie they want.

This brings me to my list of things that I thought were horrible in high school and still wreak of failure. In no particular order, but they are the top five collectively:
1. Down to You. See above. And let that be the last you see of it.
2. My Best Friend's Wedding. I can not begin to describe how absolutely horrible this movie is. But, for the sake of the argument, the people making this movie knew it was so horrible that they worked in a song and a dance number into the middle of it that became the only memorable moment of the two hour torture.
3. Chumbwumba. They were the first band that the machine put out that I stopped and thought to myself, "This is bad. I know it is, but everyone else seems to enjoy it. Something is wrong."
4. The WNBA. How is this still operating, especially in today's economic situation?
5. The National League. Although they have won four out of the past 10 Fall Classics, they're still second rate to the American League. They just are.

Word.

I Don't Want To Learn What I'll Need To Forget

So I'm reading Shock by Robin Cook. I'm almost through with it and will likely wrap it up by Friday. But please don't buy this book. It will easily be the worst book I've ever finished. And it's not even close for second. I've read several books that were less than enjoyable, but that was mostly due to complex styles or me being uninterested in the subject. This book is the first one that I'm disliking because of such a poor job by the author.

The worst part is I find it insulting a little. You see, his biggest weakness is dialogue. He does a horrible job using conversation to move the story along. Reading it, you just don't feel any of the emotions that the characters should be, or allegedly are, experiencing. However, in a vain effort to disguise this flaw, Cook uses his expansive vocabulary.

I'm for using seldom used words. As long as they A) fit, B) serve a purpose, and C) doesn't interrupt the flow of conversation. Reading Cook, it's an endless stream of obscure words that I simply can not fathom would all occur within one conversation. They people are grad students, but I find it ridiculous to assume all their conversation would be refined and verbose. I'm pretty smart, and so are my friends. We certainly don't use solely words over eight letters.

The other thing that gets me about his writing is how poorly his plot unfolded. Forget the fact that the jumping point of the novel is that pair of women donate eggs to an infertility clinic and then when they want to learn more about what happened to eggs, they mined the obituaries for recently deceased people to steal their social security numbers in order to become employees at the clinic. (How plausible is that? How many people are willing to commit obvious felonies just to learn about a donation of which they have no interest in the end result? This was the best you had? What a waste.)

The clear focus of the story should be on what happens once they learn about the eggs. I can tell you that I'm through two thirds of the book, and they barely found out about the donation. This means that in half the time it took for us to get to the big turning point, we're going to have to wrap everything up. This is supposed to be a thriller, but instead, it's simply dull. It's not even going on the book shelf. I'm literally taking it back to the paperback store I bought it and redeeming it's trade-in value.

I didn't want to end this with a downer, and the post below this one is more entertaining, but I wanted to include this snippet.

The Cardinals great second baseman Rogers Hornsby was once asked what he did during the off season.

"I look out the window and wait for spring."

Me too. Word

Flip On The Telly, Wrestle With Jimmy

After watching the Scrubs season premiere, I began wondering whether or not a taxidermist would work on a human. And then what would be the oldest age where those services should be considered? I've got to put the bar at 50, of course this is assuming the cause of termination is not disfiguring.

Aside from that, the most exciting development on my television has been the unrolling of the MLB network. That's right, 24/7/365.25 of baseball. They replay old classic games, talk about comparisons across the ages, and make top ten lists of everything rawhide related. Ask me how much my productivity has gone down. Heaven forbid they roll the 2005 World Series. Even though I own the collector's edition box set, I would still sit through it if it came on the air.
Speaking of the 2005 White Sox, I'm kind of glad they haven't won it all since (note: this gladness is only in retrospect, and I gladly would trade the four intervening seasons for one more championship, but you have to follow me for a second. It'll make sense, I promise) then. Why you ask?

Financial reasons. Just to commemorate that splendid event, I have purchased the following memorabilia:
An official hat
An official program
A large blanket
An official world series baseball
A world series champions ring replica
A world series trophy replica
A picture from game one which I had matted and framed
A special edition DVD
and the aforementioned collector's box set.

Not kidding. If they won it all again, I would be forced to renew at least some of these items, and would likely add others. Truth be told, I have enough stuff from four years ago to last for the next ten. And I love each and every one, but I simply can't afford to replace them.

But we all know I would anyway. Like Rocky during the Apollo-Drago fight, I would shrink at the task before me and cave in to my weaknesses.

Most importantly for this post, let me know about what you think about the now embedded playlist you're hearing by now. I tried to design it like an album as opposed to a random collection. Ideally, it would wash over you (brace for this because it's going to get deep here) like the ocean waves off shore. You see the wave off shore always flow towards the shore, however, they rise and fall smoothly and effortlessly. That was the hope with the ordering and selection.
Enjoy.

Word.

It's Been Seven Hours and Fifteen Days

I will not argue over this. I simply get infuriated by seeing it. This, my friends, is the gesture for the only team outside of the state of Utah which is referred to simply as "The U", namely Miami University. The pilfering of it by the Utes is incomprehensible.

It's as ridiculous as if they realized that the Utes were a tribe of indians, and therefore decided to do the tomahawk chop on third downs. No. No. And no. The only team in college sports allowed to do the tomahawk chop is the Florida State Seminoles. That's it. They've been doing it since who knows when, and have all but trademarked it.

I simply don't understand why the west coast biased sports world has overlooked this hand-gesture abomination for so long. It's mind boggling. Miami has been the only team to do this for decades. If only they would realize that teams east of the Rockies are just as important, we wouldn't have this episode.

The Utes can lay claim to the index-and-pinky-finger-extended-vertically symbol, although if they ever played Texas, this would inevitably lead to confusion. That's theirs, and I'll be sure to chide any hurricane seen performing it improperly. But please, let the once mighty 'Canes have the only thing tying them back to their glory days.

Word.