Jack Should Totally Set A Perimeter Around the Smoke Monster

Within 24 hours my two favorite current TV shows came to an end this week.  I was devastated to see the Celebrity Bachelor Loser Amazing Race While Dancing end its season.  Actually, you probably know that I’m talking about Lost and 24.  I’m sad to see their runs end, but it certainly was time…  We’ve seen enough of Jack suffering in both shows.

I must pay tribute to my friend, Dave, who endured sitting with me through 4.5 hours of Lost and then a couple more of the Jack Bauer Power Hour.  I’ll have to check, but I think after that much time together we have a common-law marriage or something.  But it was fun to chat it up during the shows.  The Mrs HTF has joined me for Lost this season, which has been awesome.  But, I did spend a lot of time trying to answer questions to get her caught up on the show.  I found that you could just answer most questions with “You just have to understand the Flash-Sideways to get that.”  For the most part I didn’t have many understandable answers, but I admire her for jumping in with both feet this season.  She even teared-up a few times, which, if you know my wife, registers on the Surprise Meter about as much as a news article about a politician who tell lies.  The girl is a, um, quick-crier.  For you guys out there, you know that this is the equivalent of a nuclear bomb if there’s ever a disagreement.  The tears come, and I know for sure that, however sound my logic may have been, I’m not only dead-wrong, but I’m pretty much evil to the core (yeah, I’m a bald smoke monster who works in Finance).  Anyway, I loved Lost and will miss the show.

24 is a bit more like an addiction than a TV show.  After each episode I find myself shivering (true fact – Dave covered me up with a blanket during the finale last night) and as wide awake as I could possible be.  It’s remarkably like the cold plunge at the Russian Spa.  And then, I have to come back for more to get my fix.  Each season got more and more unbelievable, but I don’t care much about that.  I had to see more and more.  Traci never really watched 24 with me, because, well, it’s 24 and, uh, a tad bit violent.  In much the same way that Antarctica is a tad bit cold.  So I usually would watch this show by myself late at night – not the best of plans…  But I’ll miss Jack getting things uploaded to his PDA, setting perimeters, shooting people in the thigh, and getting visuals on bad guys (as opposed to just seeing them).

Before these shows started I had ONE child, and well, life was different.  For instance I was 6’4” and had a marvelous weave in my hair.  Anyway, I’ll miss those shows, but will probably get a bit more sleep…unless I start thinking about how FREAKIN’ AWESOME it would be to have Jack Bauer on that stupid island instead of Jack Shepard…  Who wouldn’t watch that show?!

Roughin’ It and Flaming Sticks of Fun

Last weekend the Pope boys put on our Mountain Man personas and went camping.  (I define “Mountain Man” as a guy who has both thumbs at least 10 feet away from an electronic device AND has removed things that make noise from his ears that weren’t there when he was born)  It was the annual church Fathers & Sons Campout, which should be called – Fathers Set Up Tents and See Their Sons Sometime the Next Day Campout.  There was much burning of stuff, some of which was actual wood.  I observed one little guy, who we’ll call BJ, who clearly has a career as a Fireman Trainer Dude and/or Arsonist.  Somehow, in all his 5-year-old glory he knew precisely how to stoke the fire so that it would singe anyone standing nearby.  This was a much-admired skill, and not necessarily one possessed by all the impressed adults males (me).  During the 8 hour long marshmallow roast I marveled that we were so at ease with 3-foot tall people running around millimeters from the fire with flaming, pointed sticks.  Nobody would’ve been surprised to see some HOT puncture wounds – but I think most everyone survived. 

My own boys avoided me completely and did hyper-complex boy games in the woods like, “Let’s see if we can hit Charlie and/or Jimmy with a rock.”  My oldest didn’t even sleep in our tent, choosing the safety of the minivan instead.  Which was good because he was a least partially shielded from snoring that, and I’m not making this up, had some of us wondering if Bigfoot was having a family reunion in our campground and was ticked off after having lost the family raffle.  As an aside – why women (particularly the Mrs. HTF) marry guys is beyond me… I’m going with pity or some sort of masochism thing….

I will say I had a great time, and I think my boys did too, but I haven’t seen them since we got to the campground…

PS- I suggest you take a quick read at the post from last year’s adventure, as featured on MormonTimes.  (yeah, I was pretty geeked about that part…)

As Seen At The Rock Show – The Return of HTF

I’ve been to a few concerts, which hasn’t automatically made me cool, much to my dismay.  At first I thought just being present would instantly increase my mojo.  In actuality, it often feels more like my presence there is simply tolerated by the cool people AND their tattoos.  The vast majority of my head-boppin’ to loud music has happened in the shower at my brothers’ rock concerts.  A few weeks ago I saw Spoon play two nights in a row here in the Sea-Town.  I’ve seen ‘em play quite a few times, so I kinda did a lot of people watching instead of focusing too hard on the band.  As I looked around and thought about the interesting crowds I’ve seen at other shows, a few “categories” of concert goers formed in my wandering mind.  Here are a few:

• The tall guy in the front row who so intently and passionately sings every word that it’s like he’s proposing to the band in song.  If I were in the band I’d be kinda scared of this guy…  And right next to him is…
• The girl who just STARES at the band.  There’s no movement, no facial expressions, nothing.  It’s like she’s in a bad Sandra Bullock movie where if she takes her eyes off the band or shows emotion of any sort her pants will explode.
• The girl who has come with her date, but the guy refuses to get up and dance with her.  For the first few songs she actually tries to lift him up out of his seat.  By song 3 she gives up but just dances wildly by herself.  On song 5, which is always a popular one, he begrudgingly stands up cuz he realizes he’s like the only one still sitting and he knows he has some ground to make up with his lady-friend.  She, of course, takes this as a sign that he wants to dance with her, so she turns her moves towards him.  He’s trapped now.  So he waddles a bit and may even nod his head a few times on the down-beat.  He’ll continue this bizarre ritual until the end of the show because he knows that anything less and the date with this girl will probably be his last.
• The girls (and they always travel in packs of 3) who have been drinking heavily and would like everyone around them to know it by demonstrating their off-beat moves which often involve closing their eyes and flipping their hair around like it was on fire or something.
• The guys who came to the show with other dudes and are constantly trying to gauge each other to determine how much movement is macho without being “that guy.”
• The middle aged couple who clearly heard a couple songs on the radio and are trying SO hard to fit in with the younger crowd.  This pair spent more time than any others deciding what to wear while they were in a dark room with total strangers.
• The girl on the balcony who, in spite of the fact that everyone up there is seated, will not be stopped.  She’s on her feet and shakin’ and bakin’.  The guy she’s with (see previous date-scenario description) is clearly mortified and will be leaving to “go to the bathroom” momentarily.
• The short bald guy who is super-proud of his rockin’ brothers and sings along a bit too loud and has mastered the awkward confined space groove.

So next time you’re at show rockin’ out, look around.  Guaranteed you’ll see some or all of these folks.  Rock On and Stuff!

Curling Up On the Ice, but NOT wearing ruffles on my shirt!

I had intended to write several blog posts about the Winter Olympics – but I had also intended to play in the NBA – some things just don’t happen.  Nevertheless, just a few miles to the north from my house lots of people have been hanging out and watching athletes do their thing on snow, ice and TV.  I started off strong with taking in the festivities, but real life got in the way and I’ve missed quite a bit.  On that topic this note hit the HTF mailbox recently that is definitely worth a bit of a response despite the misguided smackage aimed at my Jayhawks (currently ranked #1):

Dear HTF,

The Olympics are finally here so I thought that an Olympic-related letter would be very timely!  Plus, I have been in the smack talk offseason since the end of Fantasy Football, & my skillz are getting rusty.  I need to get tons of practice time in so I will be ready to make fun of the Kansas Jayhawks come March Madness time.  That's assuming, of course, that they even MAKE IT to the tournament --looks REALLY doubtful right now!!!  Ha HA!  (Stress is on the second "ha" so as to sound super intimidating.)

Here’s the deal:  I think I could beat you at curling.  I don’t exactly know how to play, but I won't let that stop me from feeling like I would win if we were to have an Epic Battle on the Ice.  (I don’t often wield a broom, but I’m amazingly talented at sliding around my kitchen in my socks.  I think this skill would transfer well to curling.)  I do think that you would beat me at ski jumping if we were to have an Epic Battle on the Snow.  (frogs = good jumpers = mad ski jumping skillz).  However, I also think that we both would win medals over Bob Costas at providing amusing, insightful, and information packed Olympic-related commentary if we were to have an Epic Battle on the Television.  (I would give you the edge over me as you are quite capable of forming complete sentences out loud, and this is a skill that I have yet to master.) 

Importantly: do you agree with my assessment?  More importantly:  do you know if there are any tricks that the Costas or anyone else could pull that would thwart the Quests for Gold Medal Greatness?  Most importantly: what are you doing to prepare yourself for when you find out that Kansas is NOT invited to the Big Dance????  Ha HA again!

AGM

(Note to the readers – I’m intentionally ignoring all the KU digs and refuse to be goaded into responding… yet)  So last night I found myself in a swanky (defined as a place where I know I’m underdressed because the people around me pretty much look like they’re just about to go the the Emmys) restaurant in Miami.  At the bar were TVs showing Olympic coverage of Curling.  This sport is a little like Alpaca Farms for me in that I was aware it existed, but never thought much about it.  After roughly 2 seconds of watching I realized that I could definitely crush anyone at this “sport.”  I’m a strong sweeper, although I’m better with crushed Cheerios, and I once walked on a frozen lake for several seconds without falling down – isn’t that pretty much all that’s required?  The Canadians had a lady competing on their team who was 5 MONTHS PREGNANT.  Let’s be clear, I’m not anti-pregnancy or anything (as evidenced by my four adorable tax deductions at home), but if there’s a sport where the height of world-class competition features an athlete well into her second trimester I’m ready to call that a non-sport.  Perhaps more of a hobby.  Those folks seem nice and all, but they should definitely get WAY smaller medals than the other athletes at the games.  Pretty sure your guy Bob Costas was fighting hard to hide the smirk as he referred to the curlers.  You do realize that dude has the whole Benjamin Button thing going on – every time I see him he looks younger and that’s over a sustained period of like 25 years.

One idea for you – the announcers should all have to randomly choose a sport to compete in.  Picture a fancy goblet where they would draw out pieces of paper with the odd-looking symbols for events on them.  The NBC crew, all 3,492 of them would take turns drawing one and then they’d compete.  Bobby might get ski-jumping and, well, we probably wouldn’t hear from him again.  Though I’d rather see him doing a little Ice Dancing – at least he’d look significantly more masculine than the real male ice skaters.  Did you SEE what those guys were wearing?  Really?!  Do you skate better with 80’s shoulder pads and doilies on your wrists?!  Sheesh.  After I saw some of those costumes I officially swore off “men’s” ice skating.

I could add a lot more about the show in Vancouver, but this post is kind long already.  Thanks for the note.  I’ll look forward to taking down all curling challengers as I sweep up somebody else’s ice-mess with my mini broom!!

Games You Can Only Play With The Kids Once

I’ve observed lately that my kids are way smarter than I give them credit for when I try to get away with something.  Conversely, they’re, uh, not-so-bright when it comes to them thinking they can get away with stuff.  But I won’t dwell on that last point – that’s for a future post.  I do have to admit that even my best scheming usually fails to trick my troops.  Usually I will try to get them to do things that I want them to do by making it a “game.”  In this case, “game” is a nicer way of saying that I’m trying to manipulate the little creatures. 

Last week, alert-reader, Ken in Paris, sent in a great writing prompt to the HTF mailbox along these lines.  He sent over this cartoon that hit very close to home, except for the part where the dad has Alien Donald Trump hair.

If you’re a dad and haven’t tried that game, you’re simply not trying hard enough.  Here are a few other “games you can only play with your kids once” (let’s be clear, I haven’t tried ALL of these . . . yet)-

• “Whoever does the dishes will get a surprise” – the surprise usually being like an apple or something.  I kinda screwed that game up and it doesn’t get much traction at our house anymore since the last “surprise” was a . . . hug from daddy.
• “Pin the tail on your sister” – this was pretty funny for a few minutes, until, well, you know, puncture wounds.
• “Throw your brother’s clean underwear into the shower while he’s showering” – this is hilarious right up until someone tries to play the game with daddy
• “How long can you project the sun through a magnifying glass onto your hand” – hands shouldn’t smoke, so this one only worked once
• “I know you don’t like asparagus, but if you dip it in ketchup it’s actually super-fun to eat!” – this one works with MANY other deadly green foods, but not so much with asparagus
• “Who wants to take this cup of cold water and go wake mommy up with it?” – again, a fun game to watch from a REALLY safe distance.  Once.

Those are just a few, but I’m sure my wise readers have a bunch more to add.

The State of the Union and some stuff they can all agree on

I used to look forward to the State of The Union speech.  In a real way it was like watching an episode of The West Wing except in one where Martin Sheen gets interrupted by SUPER-ANNOYING cheering from people who supposedly like him every time he strings together 7 words in a row.  Tonight I caught some big chunks of this year’s speech – and I’m suddenly pretty worried about my own attention span.  The speech lasted 70 minutes officially, but it’s entirely possible that it’s still going on regardless of when you’re reading this. 

Barry had about 4 complete sentences flowing from the teleprompter, but each moment he moved his mouth he was interrupted by snarkily-cheering Democrats, some of whom were holding sings up that simply said, “Nee-nor-nee-nor-nee-nor.”  (I guess being in the majority feels good)  And if that wasn’t enough, the folks on the other side would vocally sneer (harder to do than it sounds) at the President or at least try to appear so stoic that they may or may not have been mannequins.  At times there was even some bizarre retaliatory cheering where they would take turns yelling “We have spirit yes we do!  We have spirit how about you!.”  At one point Nancy Pelosi actually threw her ubiquitous pom poms at some not-so-limber Republican senators who looked to be easily over 100 years old.  But sometimes, both sides cheered at exactly the same time as if they actually agreed on something the President said OR because it had been 20 whole seconds since the speech was interrupted.  Some of my favorite “unanimous cheering” lines were:

“We need to support doing things that will help people to find more money to donate to political campaigns.”

“I love dogs.”

“Your government totally has your best interests at heart – all the time – so just keep sending in those taxes and we’ll do some good stuff.  And, even if you don’t send enough, don’t worry, we’ll go ahead and spend what you didn’t send in anyway.”

Isn’t it great that our impartial CongressPeople can all get along sometimes when they’re not accusing each other of devil-worship and being against children?  Speaking of impartiality, after the speech I watched some of the super-fair analysis on the FoxNews from objective people like Sean Hannity and Sarah Palin.  After hearing them talk, I’m kinda convinced that The President is about to rob my house, sell my stuff to the chinese, and then give the proceeds to the terrorists.

But I’m not that worried, cuz he’s probably still trying to wrap up his speech.

My Little Bro on Conan!

Yeah, I’m a little bit proud.  My brother, Rob, is playing the bass guitar here.  Pretty good week to be on Conan – there were a few people watching!!  The new record is Awesome!

That Lady In Chicago

A few nights ago my always-looking-out-for-me wife told me I needed to sit down and watch a particular episode of Oprah with her.  Now let’s be clear – I’ve been there done that with the Big O (in that sentence “big” refers to her being HYPER-FAMOUS and INSANELY-WEALTHY, it had nothing to do with girth).  Over the years I’ve seen a few of her shows that I thought were awful good, and I’ve also seen a few that I thought were, well, awful.  This particular show was about the dangers of cell-phoning (texting and yapping) while driving.  Of course the way Oprah makes her point is with multiple real-life stories.  After a few of these incredibly depressing, but sobering accounts, Traci had to stop me from using a sledge-hammer on my phone.  Do not question the effectiveness of Oprah’s producers and her “how do you feel…” questions aimed at tearful guests.

I am sold.

I do text and drive, sometimes e-mail, sometimes IM, sometimes Facebook.

I won’t do that anymore – and suggest you do the same.

My hat tip to Harpo.  And gracias to the Mrs HTF, who is right more often than I care to admit.

And People Vacation Here . . . On Purpose?!

I got this note a couple days ago in the HTF mailbox from the always inquisitive CM:

Dear HTF:

Do you think falling iguanas are a sign of the Apocalypse? 

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20100107/ap_on_bi_ge/us_winter_weather

I think if the Apocalypse was happening, it would probably begin in Florida, don’t you?

CM

First, thanks for the question.  The short answer is, “YES.” And the medium answer is “WITHOUT A DOUBT.”  How do I know that?  Because I happen to actually be sitting in a hotel room in Ft Lauderdale of all places.  And after being here for a few days I can confirm that whatever apocalyptic chicanery (good name for a rock band) you’re referring to isn’t just going to start here, but I’m pretty sure it started some time ago.  When I got off the plane the wind chill was below freezing.  How weird is weather like that in Miami?  It’s roughly the same weirdness level as an NFL Offensive Lineman winning the Ice Dancing competition in the forthcoming Olympics.

Next, there MUST be something crazy going on because humans don’t drive the way Floridians do.  It’s like EVERYONE hasn’t eaten in 3 weeks and they’re on their way to the Chuck ‘O Rama – ain’t nothin’ getting in their way or even slowing them down.  Also the cars here are wired differently because whenever people push the brake their horn goes off.  After a couple days I don’t even notice horns or people driving on the sidewalk anymore.

Also, I’m pretty sure there’s something biblical that says “And it shall come to pass that the Lions will hang out with the lambs AND the 15-foot-long alligators will roam freely as if they were insurance salesmen.”  Tonight we had dinner sitting outside near a canal.  This wouldn’t be a dangerous thing in most any other part of the universe, but while we were eating I heard a huge splash.  I’ll admit we didn’t see what caused it it, but unless someone dropped a Mid-Size-Volkswagon in the water we were dining near an alligator – guess he was into Chinese food.  Lets be clear, this doesn’t happen in the real world.

The last thing – if you watch the local news here, you’ll never go outside . . . ever . . . because you become convinced that something terrible will happen to you.

So I could go on, but your super-accurate guess about where the end of things will start seems spot on!  Congrats on your wisdom and for living not in Florida.

Here’s a photo from yesterday of me at Ft Lauderdale beach – note the layered clothing and the shifty eyes looking for bald-man-eating alligators and/or self-important people driving their Escalades on the beach in a huge hurry:

PS – I do love me the Palm Trees

Finally Getting to the list and a Random Winner

You might be thinking that my New Year’s Resolutions was - “Don’t blog.”  Well, not so much.  I want to thank those of you who played along with the little “favorite posts of 2009” thing.  That was helpful – and a little surprising at times.  Also, huge congrats to the Fabulous CM who wins the prize.  I just used a spreadsheet to generate a random number to pick the winner.  Let there be no challenge to my geekiness!  So off to the right on my blog you’ll see the new list of top posts of 2009.  I’ve also been working diligently, by which I mean that I thought about it a couple times, on a new HTF music playlist.  So far I’ve identified about 25 songs and I’ll add a few more and post it soon.

Anyway, I want to be the last to say Happy 2010 to you!!

Here’s a can of tuna to help you celebrate: