Friday Randomnity

There has been snow around here. That’s great. Totally ready for it.

At our parent/teacher conference, Addison’s teacher used the word gobsmacked. How awesome is that?

Some things you just can’t stop thinking about. You want to, but you know they’re of greater import than anything you might focus on instead.

And then you have to move on, because holy crap.

The song stuck in my head this morning: alarm clock buzz. That “nahhhh, nahhhh, nahhhh” sound. I don’t even use my alarm that makes that noise anymore except as a backup. Grrr, Memory. Grrr, Brink of Consciousness.

Cash. What’s that about?

Sometimes people say and believe dumb things. Can we just let that kind of thing go, or is being the Right Police that important?

Because I say some dumb stuff.

And by we, I almost always mean society.

If you don’t watch or have never watched Friends, the cultural gap that exists between us can be crossed only by hard work, commitment to understanding, love for each other, and/or mad dumb luck.

I’ve loved the Cubs for a long, long time. These days, I’m really starting to like them.

The Muppets movie can’t get here fast enough. Which is weird, because the days and weeks are flying.

We’re having a baby.

And by we, I don’t mean society.

It’s 11/11/11, if you don’t mind swimming in the waters of pre-Y2K nomenclature.

Is this a long enough list to just post? I hope so. I don’t feel any more random things coming up.

Oh, wait! No. Never mind. I got nothing. Maybe I’ll add to this later.

No, wait again! 11/11/11 is a palindrome and . . . whatever the word is for all the same number. That won’t happen again until long after we stop caring that this happened today.

Also, coffee.

UPDATE: One more thing. It’s a terrible thing to evaluate your day based solely on whether or not you’ve showered. Showering is overrated.

Also: today you may want to stand just a bit farther away from me than you normally would. No reason.

Random Sobriety

Or sober randomness.

Usually I try to make these lists of random thoughts kind of funny. If it happens this time, it’s entirely unintentional.

Writing to one person at a time has been far more intriguing to me than writing on this blog . . . which has been known to draw as many as two readers at a time.

I’m a sloppy prayer, but I try to keep it going.

Colin has taken to effusively expressing how much he’ll miss Heather and me when either of us is getting ready to go anywhere. It’s the nicest, most heartbreaking thing.

Addison has that friend at school. The one who teaches him what the bad words and rude hand gestures are. I’m so happy about this.

When I worry about him being too young to be exposed to that type of thing, I remember I was a couple years younger than he was when I took my Vulgarity 101 survey course. But Christian schools are advanced like that.

I was second in line at the CPO (Campus Post Office) here at Moody last week. The person in front of the line had a rather lengthy issue he needed resolved. When he finally departed the counter, no fewer than 8 students pushed past me to turn in package request slips, and one to just plain cut. I was amazed and impressed by their uniform rudeness. I won’t say they’re all going to hell. But they obviously have a way of bringing a little piece of hell with them wherever they go.

Don’t we all.

Seriously, we all need help. So help somebody.

By all means, eat food that is good for you. Just remember to feed your soul ice cream.

We got our goldfish a new fish tank. Our first fish was too big for the tank he had. Then we adopted a second, so . . . it was the ghetto of fish dwellings. They’re moving on up.

People love their pets, man.

Life is really one big lesson in how much I don’t know.

Facebook is becoming something other than Internet. It’s not even commerce or community. It’s like the new government. I’m afraid.

I’m writing stuff you can’t read yet.

Not because you’re not smart enough, I’m just not showing anyone.

I have long believed that you see a person differently when you look him or her in the eyes. If you’re having trouble relating to someone or taking them seriously or understanding them, the eyes have it. If they don’t, move on.

If you don’t understand what aposiopesis is . . .

Hate  is a strong word. But that doesn’t mean you should never use it. And just because you don’t use the word doesn’t mean you aren’t guilty of hatred. You’re just as likely compounding it with dishonesty.

I don’t know when you’re reading this, but I’m hungry. Trust me.

Here’s a playlist. If you don’t have spotify, I’m sorry. It’s part of the new government.

Random. The past tense of rundom.

I’ve got nothing to say. Must be time for a blog post.

Many times I wonder what it’s all about. Then I remember to put my whole self in and put my whole self out. After a a bit of shaking, the world has new meaning.

Upon further reflection, the antecedent of the word it in the chorus is probably the Hokey Pokey, in which case we’re back at square one in the study of the purpose and meaning of the universal it of our existence.

Whatever it is all about is undoubtedly more perplexing on roller skates.

Roller skating. Now there’s a mating ritual I don’t mind leaving behind. The entire trip to a roller rink was one long demonstration of virility on wheels. Although it was also a chance to try to find rejected silver dollars in video game coin returns. I didn’t realize until today that they were metaphors of my own existence.

I really like a good metaphor. They are Swiss Cake Rolls in the sack lunch of life.

How does Little Debbie stay little?

Debbie Downer was the most peculiar SNL character of all time in that the first sketch was absolutely hysterical, but no future iterations were ever very funny at all. I suppose we should be thankful it didn’t have enough momentum to become a movie.

Coffee is like oxygen in that when I run out of it, I turn blue.

That reminds me. I need coffee. Now.

Random Acts of Commas

As fantasies go, fantasy football is really rather short on unicorns.

The funniest four words ever spoken on film came from the lips of Andre the Giant.

And yes, I do want a peanut.

No, I don’t dream of large women.

The title of this post means nothing.

But I am rather fond of the Oxford comma.

People in glass houses should have hired a better Realtor.

I’ve never smoked anything. If I were to take it up, I’d start with a brisket.

I don’t drink alcohol. If I were to take it up, I’d start with vanilla.

Tom Hanks.

Tony Randall!

I swear, if anybody gets all of these references, we are so friends.

Frank McCort’s Teacher Man is a great book with one lesson I always try to remember: let people be. You can love people without trying to fix them.

When I overedit a sentence, I usually leave a typo behind.

The surest way to avoid misplacing your smartphone is to be veraciously addicted to it.

I really kinda hate the word marketing.

The more people I meet, the more people I care about, and the more people I care about, the more I realize I just can’t care about everybody, and the more I realize I just can’t care about everybody, the more I feel broken.

Because run-on ain’t nothing but a number. Yes, I know, it’s not even a number.

When it comes to true friends, Doc Holliday and I have much in common.

Is this long enough to be a post? I’m running out of random stuff.

Okay, honestly, I’m just running out of time. I don’t ever run out of random stuff.

Dobby the house elf made the redemptive transformation from annoying character to painfully endearing hero that no amount of technological wizardry could ever help Jar Jar Binks to duplicate.

Someone, somewhere along the way should have stopped that Mission Accomplished banner from being printed.

There’s no reason not to eat ice cream every day. None.

Okay, that’s it. Go home.

More Random Things Because That’s All I’m Good For

Pretzels really should be its own food group.

In Rise of the Planet of the Apes, a virus designed to stimulate the regrowth of brain cells is stunningly effective in apes but is eventually neutralized by the human immune system. This requires a more aggressive strain, the negative effects of which are neutralized by the more robust immune system of chimps . . . while the positive effects turn them into geniuses. That’s quite the diplomatic immunity.

I usually have at least 10 tabs open on Google Chrome. They’re all very important.

I eat ice cream more frequently than I shower. No joke.

e.e. cummings is good at poetry. That said, I expect some of his poems could easily be mistaken for spam comments.

I don’t know who’d win in a fight between Bono and Oprah, but I’d pay good money to find out.

It seems it would take an awful lot of money to pay Bono and Oprah to fight each other.

Maybe the hardest thing about faith is trusting other people’s as genuine. Yet faith in other people has been quite possibly the strongest apology for God I’ve ever known.

I use adverbs entirely too frequently.

Cubs baseball has been fun to watch lately. I suppose that’s enough.

It’s hard to believe there is as much money in the world as this country owes. Is there, really?

We could all still learn a lot from Punky Brewster.

My wife and I were watching when Tony Hawk landed the first 900 in competition. My son now says Tony Hawk is his favorite person in the world. So I told him that story this weekend. He thought it was pretty cool.

Admit it, Encino Man affected you more profoundly than did Citizen Kane.

Are these thoughts random or arbitrary? I should look that up.

Random Random

It’s Friday. Unless you’re reading this on some other day, in which case you should make it Friday in your heart.

Which are they, thunderstorms or lightning storms? Seems like the sound gets all the lexical pub.

Pop-Tarts, people. Pop. Tarts.

Has anyone checked on Pluto? He put on a brave face at first, but what hope is there for a former planet? Lots, Pluto. Lots.

Whenever you’re reading this, I’m hungry. I promise.

Friends. That is all.

At Dairy Queen, when they mess up an order, they just throw away the whoops. When you feel like crying and don’t understand why? It’s the DQ.

Allowing people to be wrong will add 10 years to your life.

Unless by “other people,” you mean air traffic controllers.

Yep. Still hungry.

Let me tell you what I know about the debt ceiling and national economics in general.

Random Thoughts: UPDATED (again)

Not everything worth saying belongs in a paragraph.

Cold, rainy days in June are less crappy than they seem.

When someone asks you what you want on your pizza, the only wrong answer is, “Whatever.”

The only thing anyone named Newt should be president of is Chess Club.

Grown Paul Reubens dressed up as Pee-Wee Herman: funny. Kinda old Paul Reubens dressed up as Pee-Wee Herman: creepy-sad.

The Star Wars prequels happened. Deal with it.

Junk mail is so much nicer than spam.

How much does a gorilla have to weigh before it becomes a topic no one in the room wants to discuss?

Someone invented knock-knock jokes and most likely died by bludgeoning.

I’ll probably add more later, but I’m typing this all on an iPod, which is getting old (the process . . . and the iPod).

See? I told you I’d add more later (now is later, by the way).

The soundtrack to Michael is still a great listen and ridiculously overlooked and underrated.

The Spin Doctors, not so much.

If you were to tug on Superman’s cape, he’d probably give you an autograph or something; I don’t get that axiom.

The law of averages states that the Cubs will probably win again this year (but probably not today).

I love a good dangling participle.

I’ll probably add more later. But I need more coffee more than I need random thoughts.

I decided not to add any more.

I can be pretty indecisive.

The most oft-ignored instructions in all the world: “Fold this flap in first,” on the ice cream carton.

After listening to Prince’s thoughts on the matter hundreds of times, I’m still no closer to knowing what it sounds like when doves cry.

I’m tired.

Random Acts of Cubness

Marlon Byrd and Victor Conte still having a working relationship should change people’s impressions of Victor Conte.

Geovany Soto is going to get on base and hit the baseball hard.

Chicago Code isn’t a very good show, but I’ll probably still watch it forever.

And while I’m talking about it, the fictional White Sox fan cop called Cubs fan cop “Ron Santo” for saying he preferred 12-inch softball to 16-inch softball. But Ronnie played 16-inch softball. So I guess the White Sox cop fan’s character is pretty realistic.

Why did the mother pig kick the three little pigs out to go build their own houses? They’re little pigs.

I still miss Ron Santo.

Starlin Castro is going to be exciting to watch play baseball.

Also: errors shmerrors.

Tyler Colvin is probably better than I think.

Spring training still means nothing.

Randy Wells is in the starting rotation. He’s in.

Carlos Silva has something to prove. I hope for his sake he’s at least as good at proving things as Matt Damon was in Good Will Hunting.

Also, Carlos, if Andrew Cashner asks you if you like apples, don’t answer.

Kerry Wood is a Chicago Cub.

Mark Prior is a New York Yankee. His stat line so far in spring training, which, I know, means nothing, says he wants to remain a New York Yankee.

ERA: 0.00, 3 G, 3.0 IP, 1 H, O R, 1 BB, 4 SO, WHIP 0.67

I’m pretty happy about Kerry and Mark.

This Cubs team is not going to surprise a lot of people because too many people are saying they’re going to surprise a lot of people. You people suck at surprises.

Mike Quade is an interesting fellow.

April 1 can’t get here soon enough.

2010 Random Season Wrap Up

I haven’t done an end-of-season report card or award ceremony for 2010 yet because the season has been over for four months now. I’ve pretty much missed my chance.

Tom Ricketts is too nice.

The next tradition at Wrigley Field will be Todd Ricketts streaking across the outfield after the bottom of the fifth.

The next person to run a trade idea by me gets sent trough surfing.

Things might look bleak now, but in the next few years you’re gonna like a lot of the new kids.

Last year, almost every move Hendry made backfired, and the Cubs had a winning season. This year, everything Jim Hendry touched (not named John Grabow) turned to gold, and the team sucked.

I have no idea if Jim Hendry actually touched John Grabow. Although it would explain why Grabow seemed so out of sorts this year.

Paying $60 to sit in the bleachers is like tipping the maître d’ to let you wait longer.

Great pitching is the secret to winning in the postseason. Also good defense. And guys who hit well. And a decent manager. Luck, too. Oh, and the fans. Can’t forget the fans.

And intensity.

Sometimes it’s fun just to argue.

Carlos Zambrano should win comeback player of the year even though he has been here for years.

The next Cubs manager will be . . . disappointed before too long.

It’s stupid to start a baseball game anywhere between 4:00 and 6:00 local time.

Baseball seems intent on simultaneously proving that they need to institute replay and that they will ignore that need like a steroid problem.

There were not enough highlights of the 2010 season to make a top ten list.

I could care less about the Chicago Cubs right now. I care about the White Sox less. I care about the Rockies less. I care about the political currents of Auckland, New Zealand less. If I cared about the Cubs as much as I care about those things, it would be less than the current state of caring. I could do it if I tried.

Most baseball fans don’t want to have their opinions on talent critiqued by statisticians anymore than soap-opera fans want their favorite characters analyzed by psychologists.

Baseball needs to add another wildcard team like the Emmys need to add a category for Best New Show on The CW.

I really didn’t think I’d be able to come up with this many things.

How is comeuppance even a word?

Obligatory Brett Favre Chilean miner joke.

Unless you’re holding out hope that the Cubs will win a World Series at some point between now and next October, it’s time to admit that the wait between titles is already 103 years.

Baseball is a metaphor for life. It is not life itself. People who can’t make the distinction are metaphors for failure.

I could really use a strawberry lemonade Slurpee.

Happy Bartman Day.