Boy Story

This father’s day I saw Toy Story 3 with my sister and dad. While I won’t spoil any of it for people, the basic idea behind it is that people grow up and move on. As I sat there with my dad and sister watching the end of a saga that started when I was four, I couldn’t help but have flashbacks to my own childhood.

We all have things we hold onto that remind of us being a kid, whether we openly admit it or not. For some people it may be a stuffed tiger, for others it may be a blanket they carried around everywhere like Linus from the peanut gallery. These things give us comfort when times are rough, and remind of us a time when simple. They remind me of us of a time that our parents took care of everything for us, and made the monsters go away.

Just because we are capable of handling our own boogie men now for the most part doesn’t mean we no longer need our parents. Everyone makes mistakes, and when you really need them parents are there ...sometimes even when you don’t. We move out into the real world, go off to college, find jobs, but we take these things from our childhood with us. Why? Because they remind us that the people who provided them for us are always there with us, and while we may miss them they would want us to do our best.

Personally, the kid who wondered if his toys could talk after he watched the original Toy Story with my parents will always be a part of me. To this day, I still believe the toys come to life when we sleep. Parents, take note. I may seem more grown up, but I’ve just managed to organize my pretend games into something a tad more socially acceptable.

I realize this is just about the sappiest post I’ve ever written, but I’m willing to take that risk. This post goes out to both my parents, whose encouragement of my imagination led to the some of the topics you’ve all enjoyed reading here. I blame all my eccentricities on them, but I also love them for it.

Dad, consider this an extra father’s day present.

Until next time,
I'm just your friendly neighborhood bloggerman

On display for your viewing pleasure: Foreigners

This post brought you by Naxos, Greece. Famous for it’s Potatoes, Naxos is the stop for potato lovers of all sorts. (Somewhat sadly, I didn’t totally make this up. The guide book goes on and on about Naxos’ Potatoes)

The setting is a European cafe, a place where one stops to get coffee and as my Greek friend so eloquently put “argue over politics”. Suddenly, the pair turns their chair to watch the on coming crowd and stare at them as they walk by. A spectator sport, people watching seems to be much more blatant in Europe than it is America. While turning to watch people is creepy in America, in Europe it is nothing but status quo.

As I walk by these cafes and notice the people watching me as I walk by, I always wonder what they think about me. While I hope they think, “there goes a dignified gentleman with his head held high” they probably think more along the lines of “there goes a young man who slouches, wears stupid slogans that he thinks are witty on his T-shirts, and he is definitely American. No self respecting European man would ever dress like that” That may be a tad extreme( and harsh towards my fashion sense), but one can’t help but feel the silent judgement that is passed as they walk by.

I never know what to do in those situations. Do you simply look away and pretend that you don’t notice their eyes watching you? Do you acknowledge them with a smile, or for the more playful of us a wink even? Is it a cultural difference that makes me more uncomfortable being watched than a European would be?

While none of these people are quite pulling an Edward Cullen ( the term for creepily watching me as I sleep), I still feel a sincere discomfort from being watched. I realize though, I am guilty of it on a much more subtle level. We all are. We all take into account our surroundings and make silent judgements (or not so silent depending upon the person) about the people who are surrounding us. You’d think knowing this, the lack of subtlety wouldn’t bother me but it still does.

I’ve decided the next time someone is so blatant as to turn their chair to see what I am doing as I pass by, I will stop where I am standing and give them something to look at. If they are so curious as to fully turn their chairs to see what I’m doing, why should I be so ungracious as to bore them? I will continue to wear my shirts with the silly slogans. Some Europeans may think of it as me being a dumb American, but maybe my shirts will make one bored Coffee drinker’s day.


Until next time,
I’m just your friendly neighborhood Bloggerman

The Fast and The Furious: The Streets of Mushroom Kingdom

As I was driving around town the other day stuck behind an old person driving about 10 miles per hour, I couldn’t help but think there must be a better way. My mind suddenly flashed back to the hours upon hours spent playing Mario Kart on my Nintendo 64 with my friends. What if real life drivers had the option to use the items from Mario Kart?

The first item to come to mind was the hated Blue Shell. For those of you that don’t play the game, the Blue Shell is the cheapest item in the game. You use it, and it automatically flies towards the person in first place and hits them. Now, something that stops you from going too fast what does that sound like? You guessed it, the police! Police would ride blue shells that would hit you for pulling too far ahead of the rest of the pack (this is why you should always have someone going faster than you to tail if you’re going to speed).

The second item to come to my mind was the almost as hated Red Shell. The red shell immediately seeks the person in front of you. There are ways to avoid the red shell though, so it’s not quite as cheap as the obnoxious blue one. The red shell could be deployed whenever the driver in front of you was crawling at a speed of 30 mph when it’s a 45 mph zone. Somehow it would make the car magically float behind you instead of making them crash...this is real life and I don’t want to hypothetically kill any fellow drivers.

Anyone who has ever driven on the highway has had the problem of having a truck drive in front of them that is too large to see over or around, especially on narrow roads. Well, worry no more! The lightning bolt would shrink them so that not only could you see over them, but you could pass them very easily too! Just beware the trucker doesn’t hit you with a red shell to reassert their masculinity.

An item I had trouble coming up with a real life use for was the mushroom, as we already have accelerators. However, then I thought of all those old people who just can’t seem to even drive at the speed limit anymore. Grandma/Grandpa will never be slow again if they had a mushroom to use, especially a golden one.

Assuming these items didn’t cause major crashes, I think they could make driving much more efficient. As well as making driving a lot more entertaining, who would ever fall asleep at the wheel again with all this craziness happening around them? I certainly wouldn’t, but I have a feeling I’d end up hating blue shells even more than I do now.

Until next time,
I’m just your friendly neighborhood Bloggerman

So long and thanks for all the Kibble and Bits

I looooove dogs. Just ask anyone who knows me, I’ve always had dogs in my life. I'm pretty sure before mommy or daddy, one of my first words was Puppy! My laptop background is a picture of my dogs at the dog park because I miss them so much when I’m away from them.

Being such a dog lover, I talk to my dogs A LOT. I found myself wondering when baby talking to my puppy the other day though, what if he could talk back? What would he sound like? Would he have a rich deep voice like Barry White’s? Or sound more like Mickey Mouse? Would he be intelligent sounding or would every word out of his mouth just be “Squirrel!”?

Would my other dog, the female Golden Retriever be a dumb blonde as many suggest she is? I can just imagine her talking to her other doggy friends about how they need to get their nails done, go in for a grooming, and shop for the latest doggy purse accessories (they exist, I know because she had one as a puppy). Would the puppy who is an English Cream Golden Retriever be a prep as everyone suggests he would? Would that mean he buys all his gear from Ambercrombie & Fetch? (I don’t think I made this name up, but maybe I did)

What about us? Would we really feel safe in our own homes if dog could talk? I mean think about all the embarrassing things you do in front of your pet, would you really want them to be gossiping with other pets about the things they see you do? For me, that would mean my dogs gossiping about how badly I dance sometimes when I think no one is watching.

I can only imagine talking to my dog as I sometimes did in high school about whatever social problem I was having at the time, and her saying, “Stop your whining, god you’re so annoying”. Maybe it’s for the best that animals don’t speak. Maybe we love them so much because we have no way of knowing what they truly think about us, and that way we can just say they love us as much as we love them. All I know is when my dogs start speaking, I’ll be needing a paper bag to wear over my head in public.

Until next time,
I’m just your friendly neighborhood Bloggerman

Blockbuster will now be known as "Da Block"

Being home from college and not having much to do, I decided it would be a good idea to hit up my local blockbuster for a movie to watch. I’m aware no one goes to Blockbuster anymore now that NetFlix is around, but the movie I wanted to order wasn’t available for order on IO and I didn’t feel like waiting for Netflix in the mail.

Back in the day when I used to go to Blockbuster on a Friday night, it was filled with friendly families looking for some entertainment for the weekend. That’s not the case anymore. What I ran into can only be described as trash worse than what you see on the Jersey shore. With how spiky their hair was coupled with how many piercings they had, they looked like Sonic the hedgehog gone horribly horribly wrong. I tried to keep it together, just in case they saw the look on my face and decided to give me some holes of my own on my face.

That was when my friend and I exited the building and went round back to where I had parked my car. There were the same people from the store, waiting with their hoods up presumably for us to come out of the store.I rushed my friend into the car not even really waiting for her to get her seatbelt on before getting out of there as fast as I could. Soon after, she asked me if anything had gone down would I have protected her? To which my response was, “Are we looking at the same person here? I mean, I could take a beating to try to buy you time but that’s about it.” I’d love to be able to say I’d go Bruce Lee on their asses, but I know very little self defense and it’s something I need to work on.

It really irked me, and I think what irked me the most is that I remember going into Blockbuster as a kid excited to play the gumball pinball machine for only a quarter, or rent Scooby Doo and the Boo brothers for the millionth time. Sure, I may have persuaded my mom to rent South Park: Bigger Longer and uncut for me at the age of nine or so... if I had to learn my curse words, at least it was from a movie I had rented at my friendly local Blockbuster! My imagery of Blockbuster may be skewed, as I’m sure there were some people renting porn or something of the sort as three year old me eyed a twix bar nearby. That doesn’t change the fact that the woman I found working the register to be incredibly rude, and the crowd I found at the Blockbuster on Friday night to be generally unsettling.

Next time I will just be renting a movie from the safety of my own home like all other normal people. Sorry Blockbuster, as appealing as your gumball pinball machine once was it’s not enough to risk being near Michael Meyers impersonators again. The biggest risk I take ordering from Netflix is the ever deadly computer thumb.

Until next time,
I’m just your friendly neighborhood Bloggerman

Pulling a Kanye on the moms of the world

I’m not a fan of over the top political correctness, but I think today’s topic calls for it. Whenever someone gets on TV, you always hear them say “Look mom I’m on tv!” What about the rest of their family? How come you never hear anyone say“Hi Dad!” or just a general “shout-out to my family”.

Sure mom’s take care of you and help raise you, but the keyword is help. There may have been a day and age in which women did all the work in raising kids, but that time has passed in at least the liberal areas of the country. In a time when we are calling for equal parenting and expecting dads to be there instead of at the track, shouldn’t we give them credit for also raising us?

Dads are even being expected to the do the impossible. Dads are being expected to change diapers! Blasphemous I know, but it is happening. There was a time when I thought I’d inherit my dad’s “D.A.D” shirt which stood for dad’s against diapers. I don’t think it’s socially acceptable anymore, unfortunately.

I look forward to being a parent, which is probably the last thing anyone expected to hear from a teenage guy’s mouth. I want my credit for it when my kid is up there on the podium giving a speech about how they’d never be there without their mom. If I ever get up to give a thank you speech, I will say,“ A shout-out to my entire family, friends, and even enemies. Without you guys, I wouldn’t be accepting this award for the most time spent on a computer by a single person ever!”

I mention families because siblings also deserve credit. I mean, without me would my sister have really gone to college? Yes, probably can’t say I made that much of a difference...but would she have been in such a hurry to get away from my pre-adolescence? Probably not! My role in being the annoying little brother made her that much more eager to go off to school. Siblings, just remember, your negative and positive behaviors do have an effect. Do your duty, annoy your older siblings or boss around your younger siblings!

I realize I haven’t mentioned family outside the immediate family, nor have I really gone into depth on friends. However, if you mentioned everyone who you ever met your speech would gone on until you were eighty years old. I’d just like to see some people get more credit than just the moms. I’m not trying to undersell what moms do for people, but it’s nice to acknowledge the other people who got you where you are too.

So moms, I’mma let you finish but we all know families are really da best.

Until next time,
I’m just your friendly neighborhood Bloggerman

Tonight on ESPN: The Graduates!

I just recently came back from my sister’s graduation ceremony, which don’t misunderstand me was a fun time. However, I couldn’t help noticing that before the ceremony started there was music that would be playing before a baseball game on the loud speakers. They were trying to pump the crowd up! Which raised the question: What if graduations were more like a sporting event?

An announcer would say things like “Now entering from left field, your MVP, with a 4.0 gpa over the span of his entire career: Tom “has no life” Whiiiiiiiite!”. Tom White (which is just a generic name I picked) would then come up to the podium and give a speech, “ It’s been a long year. We all know how I had to battle the injuries of mental block and brain freeze, but I stayed tough. When the professors threw a curveball at me, I knocked it out of the park! My paper writing skills are unmatched, and no I did not need to take steroids like certain people to accomplish my feats.”

The rest of the graduates would jog out from left field to the tune of Enter the Sandman to receive their diplomas/medals. The starting lineup would be composed of Tom White and his fellow overachievers, while the bench would be composed of those who were the slackers. In the middle of the graduation ceremony, there would be a half time show complete with T-shirt rocket launchers. One lucky fan would be selected to come on the field and shake the hand of Mr. White.

Unfortunately this is not the way real graduations work. The ceremonies are rather long and boring, and do little to keep you entertained. However, parents/friends/families did run onto the field which I found obnoxious. At a wedding, you don’t run up to the altar.

This was the graduates' moment, not the parents/friends/family. I realize you’re excited but you can wait until after to congratulate your graduate. I will say at least none of the “fans” went streaking on the field as they might do at a baseball game, so they had slightly more class than the bleacher creatures which isn’t saying much.

Until next time,
I’m just your friendly neighborhood Bloggerman