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December 31, 2007: Linkapalooza (2007 Mountani Semper Liberi Edition) 2007 was a watershed year for West Virginia blogging! We met the Buzzardbilly, The Evil Twin’s Wife and The Blonde Goddess, who treated us to their stories. DC Comictician blessed us with his teachings about The Justice League in his quest to protect us from Gorilla Grodd. Euterpe, RedZeppelin, J and C and Me, Sound Thoughts, All Click, Sagacious Hillbilly, Tim, and Ron also entered the blogosphere and shared their insights with us. Hobson’s Choice welcomed a little one into their house and Happy Hippos and Purple Cows kept us updated on what was happening in hers. Sarah gave us the scoop on Putnam County and the Kanawha Valley while Lisa and Amanda gave us the scoop on their families. Some of our new blog friends have been posting before this year: Jennyville features posts on everything from photo caption contests, to great music, and, of course, tiramisu. Tanstaaf and his pal, Hootie the Owl remind us “there ain’t no such things as a free lunch.” If my recall serves, Lincoln Walks at Midnight started posting this year. It’s hard to imagine starting the news day without his blog, and he has probably the most complete blogroll of West Virginia bloggers--I’m still working my way through his list. Here or elsewhere, our new friends Fishing Guy, Shark Girl and The Costume Lady certainly merit the distinction of being called West Virginia bloggers. Our long-time blog friends Ian, Cathy and family (including her newest addition, Miles), Flapjam, and Kevin are always welcome in the Mountain State. And, of course, we can’t forget one of our new favorites--Jacknuts! It’s also hard to miss many of the West Virginia blogs that have become the proverbial fabric of the West Virginia blogging quilt: Film Geek, Barbie Girl, Carpe You Some Diem, Jackie, Scarlet, Jim, Smallest Angel, s.m.A.R.T., ASAT, El Cabrero, Don’t Print This, Infinity Ranch, Raging Red, jedi jawa, Rick Lee, Jelly-Filled, Bearwaller Hollar, Appalachian Greens, Back Porch Politics, Birds, Etc., Blah Blah, Blog* The Musical, Charlestonian, West Virginia Hot Dog Blog, Cy Blog, Dave Peyton, Entropy, Fifth Column, The Holywriter, Mr. Chinchilla, Iremonger, West Virginia Ship of State, Kelsie, Kelly, The Laughing Gypsy, Mountain Laurel, Occasional Blog, Oncee, One Stack Mind, Sandpiper’s Thoughts, Spinster Girl, Surbinator, Useless Drivel, WV Health Care Blog, WV Mountain Home, West Virginia Political Sweatbox, the WV Blogger, and the Gazzblogs. If 2007 is any indication of things to come, then it looks like we’ll have plenty of more blogs to discover and blogroll in 2008 to keep us entertained should the writers’ strike continue out in Hollywood. Thanks to everyone who devotes their time to sharing their experiences online. Happy New Year!
December 29, 2007: Super Amazing Spectacular Fantabulous Dance Party ‘07
December 20, 2007: It Was A Very Good Year Years ending in an odd number go either very well or very poorly for me. I’m placing 2007 in the “very well” category. It wasn’t as great as 1999 (a truly awesome year) or 2003 or 2004 (other great ones). But then, it wasn’t anywhere close to the “crap factor” of 1975 or 1997. Here’s a brief recap of some of my favorite and less-than favorite years:
1968: I don’t remember a thing about this year, either, but I have a pretty good hunch that I probably crapped my pants while the demonstrations raged in Chi-town. 1969: I know this was a great year because I watched the original Star Trek, Sesame Street and Scooby Doo. 1975: The first of the truly crappy odd years. My mother, sister and I flew into Norfolk, Virginia to visit my grandmother for the holidays in late December. When we arrived at the airport, my grandma wasn’t there. Although I was only eight years old, I sensed something was wrong. A couple hours later, my mom and great aunt returned home crying after they found my grandma. I remember their bringing back all the food and presents she had bought for us. I was afraid to eat the food. 1977: What I remember best about this year is that my elementary school class designed a memories book. We called it “BOSS,” which stood for “Best of Seventy-Seven.” Actually, the “BOSS” was our homage to KISS, which requires no explanation for those of you who still have clear memories of 1977. As for those of you who weren’t born yet, it’s too bad because it was a pretty cool time. 1979-1981: Judd Apatow deserves all the money he’s making now. NBC should never have canceled Freaks and Geeks, which pretty much documents how it was for this Geek back in the day. 1987: Another crappy one. I visited my father’s mother in Florida during the NBA playoffs between the Celtics and the Lakers. As good as the series was, it didn’t distract me from the fear I experienced watching my grandmother struggle with lymphoma. On the upside, I’ll never forget her telling me the importance of family before we left. 1993: This odd year goes in the “very well” category. It’s really a spill-over from 1992, which was awesome, but I’m placing it on the list because it’s the year I graduated from law school and rocked out while Bill Murray grooved in the audience. 1996: My dad’s investigated, then fired, then forced to file for unemployment benefits after serving West Virginia for over 24 years. Yeah, I’d call this a real shitty year. 1997: Shittiest. Year. Ever. 1998: I’ve blocked this one out. I think I made some money in the stock market.
2000: Another great one. Although I think I lost some serious money in the stock market. 2001: Within days of 9/11, my wife miscarried. Add in a stress-filled Thanksgiving and an angry client or two and you have another shitty year.
2005: It wasn’t shitty, but the stress accompanying our move and my job change places this one slightly below average. 2007: As I look over my year’s worth of blog entries and consider the things I haven’t posted, I think it went pretty well.
December 19, 2007: More Things That Rock (Christmas Edition) 1. Egg nog rocks. 2. Chugging egg now straight out of the carton really rocks. 3. Pepperidge Farm™ Gingerman cookies rock. Eating an entire package in one sitting rocks more than chugging egg nog straight out of the carton--unless you’re chugging your egg nog out of the carton while you’re eating your Pepperidge Farm™ Gingerman. 4. The old-fashioned street decorations that used to hang on the lights in downtown Charleston, West Virginia in the 1970s still rock even though they’re probably in some land fill in New Jersey by now. 5. The Heat Miser and his song rock. The Snow Miser doesn’t rock, nor does his song because it’s too uptempo. 6. Meli Kalikimaka rocks more than the Heatmiser’s song. 7. The bigger the Christmas decorations, the more they rock. 8. Oh, I almost forgot: The Abominable Snowman from the Rudolph cartoon rocks until Hermie takes out all his teeth. 9. Charlie Brown’s Christmas rocks. Of course. 10. Getting into the spirit of the Christmas season rocks even if you don’t celebrate Christmas.
December 16, 2007: Future Shock A few days ago, Yahoo! featured a story on a 1967 video depicting what life might look like in 1999. If you haven’t seen it yet, have a look here:
This video really interests me because: 1) I’m big on anything “retro” that predicts the future; 2) The video’s predictions have proved remarkably accurate; and 3) Wink Martindale of Tic Tac Dough fame plays the dad, and despite not having the internet forty years ago, ol’ Wink was somehow able to capture my exact reaction when I see our bills from Amazon on the computer. Actually, I’m not nearly as tech savvy as my wife. As coincidence would have it (or is there such a thing as coincidence? Discuss!), my wife attended a presentation about integrating technology into the classroom. She mentioned this thing called Skype, a “thumb drive,” and vlogs, and then explained that we really needed a digital video camera. And the good news is that I was totally psyched about her digital video camera suggestion. The bad news is that I had no idea what the hell she was telling me about the other technical innovations. As of today, December 16, 2007, I have yet to listen to music on an Ipod (my wife has an MP3 player--I don’t know how to use it), use a Bluetooth (what’s that anyway?), podcast (apparently blogging like this is for those of us over thirty), or text message anyone. When I purchased a “Tracphone” about a year ago, that was a pretty big deal for me because it signaled that cellphones were so ubiquitous that I could no longer function without one. And if you haven’t noticed, let’s not forget that the program I’m using for my site’s design is, um, kinda outdated, too. Oh, but it gets better. According to my internet provider, if you can read this, you’re probably subscribing to my RSS feed. Guess what? I have no frickin’ clue how to read your all’s blogs in a feed! A couple years ago, I was fortunate that my good friend, Mike, helped me learn how to syndicate this site. (Thanks, again, Mike!). But beyond that, these days I really feel like I’m digital roadkill on the internet freeway. My wife explained that in this brave new world, we’re digital immigrants, and that our children are the natives. It’s true. Yesterday, our daughter received a Wiggles toy (I don’t think I’ve mentioned The Wiggles in over a year, and man do I miss Greg!) that was basically an MP3 player. The toy played songs that corresponded wth certain images. When I think about all the changes in technology I’ve missed, it worries me a little. I bought my first CD player shortly after the format developed in the early 1980s. (Oh yeah--I tried to burn some compact discs last week, which was a complete fiasco. Sigh.). Before blogging became big, I had a homepage about ten years ago, which I uploaded and coded myself. But it seems that when dvds became more widespread that I didn’t have the time to acquaint myself with them. It’s pretty amazing how quickly I’ve become ignorant about technology. Sometimes, too, I wonder about the relevance of the older technology that I grew up with. I loved using the Dewey Decimal system to find books. Everyone uses Google or Wikipedia now. And I really loved listening to The Violent Femmes on vinyl. I even like my hundreds of compact discs, and remember how much I anticipated buying the digitally remastered Beatles on cd twenty years ago. Has it been twenty years? I figure that someday my kids will ask me about the record players, the card catalog, and life without Google. They’ll probably ask me about why I even wrote this blog, too. Of course, I do have an answer for that: I was documenting my mid-life crisis.
December 13, 2007: My Dream Ad Airs On C-Span
[Together]: That’s because whether we’re prepping for testimony before Congress or an appearance on ‘Meet the Press,’ there’s no debate on our favorite dvd collection ever:
And, of course, who can forget Bush v. Gore?!? “The Bench Bunch” tackles it all. It’s jam-packed with seminal cases on everything from marijuana use to same-sex sodomy and religion! And if you’re one of the first hundred purchasers of this set, you’ll receive a collectable lithograph of the justices in their robes!
“The Bench Bunch” dvd set. Available at imaginary finer department stores and online merchants everywhere since 2005. [Disclaimer: Um. Yeah. This is not a real ad. It’s like a spoof, dude. It’s fictitious.]
December 11, 2007: This Review Isn’t On Amazon When I made my list of some of my favorite things this year, I forgot to mention something important:
This is a Deer Stags Men’s Tribune Wingtip Oxford. And it is by far the most comfortable dress shoe I’ve ever worn. Until this year, I preferred the Allen Edmonds Men’s MacNeil Wingtip Oxford as my dress shoe:
Now you’re probably thinking: Why would anyone pay $200 for a pair of shoes? And if you are, then I still don’t have an answer to this question that has plagued me for the past thirteen years. I’m not in any way suggesting anything’s lacking in the quality of a pair of Allen Edmonds. Allen Edmonds rocks. But spending $200 or more for a pair of any shoes doesn’t. And it never will. You know what else doesn’t rock? Wearing your $200 pair of Allen Edmonds until everyone in the waiting room of the judge’s chambers sees the gaping hole in the bottom of your right shoe and decides to make that the subject of conversation for the next half hour. And that’s when it’s a great time to find a new brand of wingtips. I really loved those Allen Edmonds, though. In the past, I tried wearing some Florsheim wingtips (I’m not bothering with a picture, much less a link), but their affordability did not compensate for their lack of comfort. Fate, however, favored my quest for a new wingtip when I happened upon my new Deer Stags at a local JC Penneys. The Deer Stags “Tribune” Wingtip closely resembles the Allen Edmonds MacNeil shoe except for one major, distinguishing feature: The Deer Stags’ Tribune adds a cushioned insole. While this design makes for a more “casual” look, it does not in any way detract from the shoe’s professional appearance or feel. And, man, are these shoes comfortable! Can I just say how much my new Deer Stags rock? Now dig this: My Deer Stags cost me $40. Sales tax included. Plus they make for a much more enjoyable conversation outside the courtroom than my previous pair of wingtips.
December 9, 2007: Hanukkah (Under the Sea Edition)
December 8, 2007: The Eternal Optimist Despite everything, I believe that people are really good at heart. --Anne Frank People often tell me I’m an optimist. I’m encouraged when I hear that because I’m certain that wasn’t often the perception others shared of me. When I was younger, I’d go around our family’s home stating how much I hated things. Dad never appreciated it: Why do you say ‘you hate’ that? Don’t say ‘hate.’ And after Dad reproached me, I’d stop saying how much I hated whatever it was that I was hating that day for a little while. But I’d start hating something or somebody again and Dad would lecture me on why hating isn’t necessary and how it accomplishes nothing and we’re people, not animals, who are rational and and use our reason to work out problems and find their solutions. Looking back on it, I really don’t understand why I had such anger about things when I was younger. I had a nice family, a good home, wonderful friends, and a potentially unlimited opportunity to pursue whatever dream or career I wanted. Dad, of course, knew this. I don’t recall his ever telling me this, but I know he knew. I know it now, too, even if I didn’t appreciate it back then. Dad always had a kind word for everyone. EVERYONE. I never heard him say he hated anyone. He always expressed a boundless optimism about everything: Dad, I don’t want to go to school today. Every day above the earth is a good day! But Dad, I hate John Adams Junior High School. What did I tell you about saying ‘hate’? A few weeks ago, while our family was about to eat my wife’s chili, our son, Seth, proclaims: “I hate chili!” I’d never heard Seth say he “hated” anything or even used the word “hate.” Well, don’t say hate. It’s something you should never say. It was as if I had told Seth this a thousand times. . . as if I were my father. . . . lecturing me about approaching life with a positive attitude. Today marks ten years since I’ve seen my Dad alive. He’s missed my marriage, the birth of my son, and the birth of my daughter. He’s missed a lot.
December 6, 2007: Doktor Seth
“It’s Peyton.” “And what seems to be the issue with Peyton?” “She has a boo-boo. . . a splinter.” “Well, I’m gonna have to give her a band-aid, Miss Lydia.” “She has to get tape for her finger?” “Well, I don’t think she needs tape. . . . She just needs a band-aid and I’m gonna have to check her heart.”
“She needs antibiotic for her boo-boo?” “Yeah. And, by the way, your baby’s also made entirely of lead.”
December 4, 2007: These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things ‘07 BOOKS The Road by Cormac McCarthy, The Wisdom of Crowds by James Surowiecki, and, of course, Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling. DINING EXPERIENCE It’s still Mitchell’s Fish Market, Cincinnati, Ohio. DVD Heroes (Season 1), The Complete Twilight Zone (Original series, seasons 1 through 5), and Sesame Street Old School, Volume 1. I never tire of watching the old Sesame Street classics. That ladybug picnic number rocks! (Note: Season three of Lost is out today, but it’s not in my collection so I’m not counting it here.) FANTASY BASEBALL Yahoo!’s version sets the gold standard. And never draft a pitcher before the third round. JEANS It’s still Lee® brand. MOVIES-THEATER Knocked Up, Michael Clayton, Ratatouille, 28 Weeks Later and The Simpsons Movie. MOVIES-NETFLIX In the order I watched them and ones I rated four stars or more: United 93, Little Miss Sunshine, House of Sand and Fog, Glengarry Glen Ross (I hadn’t watched it before this year--go figure), Wordplay (Nice documentary on crossword puzzle champions/fans), Jackass: Number Two, The Prestige (Five stars--I loved it!), The Illusionist (Five stars--I loved this one, too!), Rocky Balboa (Yes. The second-best Rocky film.), When the Levees Broke (Spike Lee’s documentary about Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath), Casino Royale (Probably the best Bond in decades), 28 Days Later, Little Children, Flags of Our Fathers, 300, Death in Gaza (Another documentary, this one’s on the conflict in the Middle East), Word Wars (Not as good as Wordplay, but a nice piece on Scrabble™ competitors), and Zodiac. PIZZA It’s still Papa John’s world around our house. Extra tomato sauce, please. TELEVISION Lost finally picked it back up. Heroes rocks. And the kids and I really dig the YouTube clips of the old Sesame Street bits that they didn’t include on volume one of the Old School. TOYS Matchbox™ cars, bouncy balls (Cars and Cinderella endorsed versions), and plastic foods/cooking utensils. CHORES Doing the dishes, cleaning crayon marks off the walls before company arrives, and vacuuming the cat hair off our green couch.
December 3, 2007: Write Your Own Punchlines! While the writers’ strike continues, we bloggers are gonna have to entertain ourselves. Feel free to suggest your own punchlines for tonight’s actual headline: Divorce wreaks havoc on the environment. . . .
December 1, 2007: Fear (No Cape or Loathing Edition) I spent the past several days in Columbus, Ohio as an instructor at a training for new attorneys. I’ve always enjoyed school, especially teaching. If I weren’t practicing law, I’d love to be a law school professor. I’ve had several people suggest that I’d make a good professor--but then I’ve also had several people suggest that I’d love riding a roller coaster if I simply tried it. I have ridden a roller coaster, actually. It was the Top Gun at Kings Island, and I rode it about six or seven years ago at the suggestion of my wife. You see, I love my wife, and I know that when she suggests I’ll like riding a roller coaster, I have no reason to doubt or disbelieve her. As I said, I love my wife. Well, I tried riding the Top Gun, and suffice it to say that I didn’t like it. At. All. I would have probably have had a heart attack while riding it, too, but I think that my brain was so focused on delivering the instructions to my vocal cords to hold their almost two-minute continuous scream that my heart was too busy to notice my brain’s other memo about the heart attack. (And you know, I have posted an entry about my Top Gun adventure, but because we all know that I’m incredibly lame for not using permalinks I can’t provide the link now. Dig around in the 2004 or early 2005 archives and I guarantee you’ll find it. I think.) For me, the experience of riding a roller coaster is a lot like public speaking. I recall reading somewhere that when people are asked if they’re more afraid of dying or public speaking that most answer they’re afraid of the latter. And I just can’t relate to that. If you ask me, dying is much, much scarier than speaking in front of an audience--unless, of course, your audience is a bunch of zombies, in which case I’d opt for the majority view. I mean, if you speak in front of an audience and your presentation fails, you won’t die. You might suffer the effects of the embarrassment for the rest of your natural life. That’s true. But if the roller coaster you’re riding fails, well, then . . . . I think you see my point. Public speaking is not easy for me. But I force myself to do it. I have to do it. I thrive on the adrenaline. The fear of performing in front of people, though, always remains. I remember when I played in my band back in New Orleans (again, there’s another post on this one somewhere around here, so mea culpa), and our group first took the stage. As I walked with my guitar and harmonica toward the microphone, an enormous fear gripped me. It didn’t matter that I had played a dozen gigs with Dan and Joe over several months. Each time, I felt the same fear. But after the first few bars of music, my fear would vanish, and we’d rock out and have fun. I feel the same way about public speaking. The first minute or so presents the most difficulty for me, but after my voice finishes its cracking, I dig doing it. By the way, don’t ever try to convince me to ride another rollercoaster. My fear has its limits.
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1967: People tell me it was a very good year for me. I’ll take their word for it because I’m still pretty naive. Highlight: A crowd watches as I exit a uterus.
1999: This year started out weak, but finished strong when I met my wife during Labor Day weekend. A truly awesome year.
It’s the story of a man named Rehnquist. And more. Much more. “The Bench Bunch” doesn’t just deliver opinions. It delivers punches. Take a look at a few of these classics:
“Well, Miss Lydia, you certainly have a beautiful baby girl! What’s her name?”
“You’re gonna have to give Peyton the nose squirt from the pharmacy, Miss Lydia. You’re gonna have to give her a shot because every time she comes I’m gonna have to give her the antibiotic.”