The Chri$ma$ $pirt

We’ve all been there. It’s January, all your credit cards are maxed out. Your Christmas decorations need to come down from your carcass of a tree. It’s so cold outside your testicles have receded all the way up to just below your Adam’s apple. Your mind still echoes with that one mean thing the one specific relative you can’t stand said while you were watching the parade on TV. Worst of all now you have to go back to work and face all your co-workers who last saw you wearing nothing but a well-placed Santa hat and Xeroxing your butt during the office Christmas party.

All of this can be summed up by the following comic:

Therefore it’s no surprise that Black Friday and Cyber Monday are followed in January by something called Blue Monday, scientifically proven to be the most depressing day of the year. Seriously check out those fancy formulas on the Wiki page. Who knew S.A.D. involved so much complicated math?

So how did you get to this holly jolly hangover? To answer that we have to take a step back, way back, not just to the previous Christmas but to your first Christmases.

This lovely phenomenon starts at an early age. From the day your parents parked you in front of a TV in order to enjoy a brief respite into the realms of sanity you have been constantly bombarded with the amazingly prevalent American advertising machine.

This machine drowns you in a sea of ads for toys, games, movies, sugary breakfast cereals and who knows what else, all of which you MUST have. The end result (depending on your gender) is either a pile of naked and neglected Barbie’s or GI Joes with missing helmets, weapons, limbs and so forth.

This advertising machine is summed up best by a favorite video of mine. It may be legit or it may not, but it chronicles an artist’s slow descent into insanity while trying to appease the corporate powers that be. The end result,..is well…you’ll see….fair warning, it’s kind of bloody for a stick figure based cartoon, but totally worth it, especially if you enjoy random humor as much as I do.

The end result is a scathing commentary on American consumerism. This never ending acquisition of stuff is a topic for another blog down the road, for now, we return to the topic at hand. Christmas, or as a college professor of mine called it “Giving presents to Atheist children day”.

Only in America could something like the birth of the son of God be turned into something that the entire year’s economy is dependent upon.

This was perfectly exemplified by a recent tweet by Neil deGrasse Tyson:

Of course being the country we live in he took a lot of heat for this tweet, but I’m glad he said it.

Another great example can be found during a surprisingly profound episode of South Park. For legal reasons I won’t link it here, but in it, a long, typical “we must save Christmas” episode ends with a scene featuring Jesus. As you may know in the South Park universe Jesus is the host of a local public access call in show called “Jesus and Pals”. The episode ends with a Jesus completely forgotten and absent during the entire episode, alone, sitting in front of a single cupcake with a single candle in it singing “Happy Birthday To Me” to himself.*

Forgotten religious roots aside could one really expect any other outcome knowing America the way we all know it? After all once the ball gets rolling and someone sees the slightest opening for money to be made it’s pounced upon like a fumble in a football game. Christmas is no different. This constant high stakes competition for every last Christmas dollar has evolved the birth of Jesus celebrated on a single day to an entire season which starts earlier and earlier each year.

It’s the perfect set up really. Even if you’re not Christian you WILL get presents and then you’re obliged to get others presents. Otherwise you’re just a jerk. And you can’t turn down presents either, that would just be rude.

The end result is everyone has to buy presents for everyone.

I realize this is starting to paint me as a scrooge and that’s okay. I know there is the aspect of the Christmas Spirit where suddenly everyone does more and is more cheerful because hey, it’s Christmas after all right?

But shouldn’t you be decent to your fellow man all year around? Not just when the lights are out and everyone is holly jolly?

I supposed the argument could be made that any extra kindness is a good thing regardless of its cause. That all goes out the window though at 4 am on Black Friday when your fellow man will be trampled on in a mad rush to the last blu ray player on sale at Walmart. After all, the only way to show your loved ones you love them is to buy them things right?

Wow, seems like I got a bad case of the Blue Mondays huh? No worries, I’ll make up for this admittedly whiny blog by helping you turn your Christmas lemons into lemonade.

Many a running joke has been made about the ‘lame’ presents one gets for Christmas. These jokes are so prevalent they have achieved meta status. You know the drill, the horrendously awful sweater your Aunt Soandso knitted for you or socks, a tie or heaven forbid…the most feared word of the holiday season….”Fruitcake”.

Lets start with the sweater. Sure it’s hideous, it’s full of red and green and reindeer and you wouldn’t be caught dead in it. But think about this, she made that sweater, by hand, probably took her hours and hours. When was the last time you made something for someone by hand? That’s love right there. At least she didn’t punch anyone in the throat at 4:30 am the day after Thanksgiving to get it for you.

So you don’t want to wear this monstrosity, fair enough, use it as a blanket, put it over your pillow, I bet it’s at least soft and comfy. So you might have to wear it once at the family gathering where your Aunt is actually there. It will totally make all that work worth it for her (Remember that holiday spirit thing).

Next on my tour of sweater based arguments. Do you really need to look cool and worry about your fashion rep in front of your family? Congratulations, you’re officially the best dressed dude at your family’s Christmas dinner, I’m sure Fashion magazine will be calling you at any moment.

Besides each member of your family probably all got one too. Once you put your sweater on even the most self conscious will follow suit. Soon everyone will be wearing their sweaters and your Aunt will be super Aunt stoked. Sure there will be Facebook pictures, your friends will make fun of you, but your Aunt will be the envy of her entire bridge club. It will make her year and you didn’t even have to buy her anything.

But what if she didn’t make it? What if she paid cash money for this horrible holiday long sleeved monstrosity? Turn it inside out, it’s extra comfy that way. I remember kids did that all the time when I was in elementary school.

Use it as a hidden layer to keep you warm while shoveling snow, no one will see it and it will help keep you warm.

Next I mentioned socks, but I supposed underwear or any number of unexciting clothing based gifts could fall in this category. I don’t know about you, but I’m losing socks all the time. The life expectancy for socks in the Smitty household is very, very low. At least you can use them, wear them, they serve a purpose.

A tie is another story, I can count the times I’ve had to wear a tie in my life on one hand. Still, there are worse things in life than getting a tie. Toughen up, put on your grown up undies on, if you need to, get good and hammered on egg nog and put it on with your Aunts sweater, it’ll be good for a laugh.

Last but not least the Voldemort of Christmas gifts. The gift that must not be named……FRUITCAKE

*Lightning*

*Thunder*

First off, food based gifts are great, they’re consumable, or at the very least biodegradable (hopefully). It won’t take up space in your house and won’t end up in the attic. Second, I’m pretty sure I’m the one person on earth who actually likes fruitcake. It’s been about 25+ years since I’ve had fruitcake but I’m pretty sure I liked it. I was a child and was worried if I ate too much I’d get drunk because supposedly there was alcohol in it. So fear not, you got fruitcake? Send it my way. I’ll eat that fruit cake while rocking out the sweater your Aunt made for you while wearing new socks, a Rudolph themed tie and a brand new pair of whitey-tighties.

Enjoy that mental image.

I made it just for you.

Merry Christmas.

*= Okay, I found it but the link will prolly get yanked eventually.

Review of a Review of The New Manson Album:

I'm not sure what the "Dog in a car" metaphor is about but otherwise this is a good review.

I disagree with the statement about not having a good album since Mechanical Animals. I would argue that Holywood was not only fantastic but among Manson's best albums. Holywood perhaps fittingly, was the last time I got super amped about a Manson release. The lead up to "The Pale Emperor" just like the lead up to Holywood has had me listening to singles released online prior to the album on a daily basis. 

I've heard 4 songs so far and have been waiting anxiously for this album for more than a month. I pre-ordered the album not long after Christmas with my cherished Google Play money. 

I've never looked forward to a date in mid to late January so much. 

Chasing A Dream

From the day I set foot in middle school it became apparent that everything from that point on was to be done to prepare for College. I needed to know what I wanted to do when I grew up and I needed to know fast.

I even asked my counselor about this during her visit to my first period science class. The silliness of all of this wasn't lost on my then 12 year old mind. She responded with a calculated and matter of fact “Yes, you should have things planned” or some such thing.

From that moment on until the day I graduated from High School every action, whether solo or in a class of non-behaving students, was countered with a warning of how this or that wouldn't fly in college.

There were warnings of professors that were cold and uncaring, of writing forty page papers every night that no matter how well you wrote them, no matter how hard you worked, would totally get an “F”.

As it turned out I went to a small college filled with classmates from small towns who had no idea what to expect in college. Everything that was foreshadowed like a chilling Nostradamus prophecy never came to pass. Professors actually seemed more patient than the teachers from my former school district.

All of this planning resulted in constant tests to determine what my pre-teen classmates and I should take the following semester so we were on the right path to whatever our major was going to be in college.

I only remember one such survey. The end result was that I should be an author. Sounds great right? But why not rock star? Or Astronaut? The odds of a successful career in such a field seemed not worth the bother even then.

A classmate of mine didn't take the survey seriously, as well he shouldn't have. His end result was that he should pursue the “Tree Surgeon” career path. I’m sure the counselor involved didn't like that result as I’m not aware of any “Tree Surgeon” major at the local university.

Despite all the angst and distrust caused by all this future planning I must admit that survey was correct. I truly believe that I was wired to be an author or at least a writer. I can admit that now. Still, the prospects of being able to make a living doing so were and are on par with winning the lottery or Bo Pelini admitting fault for something*.

I instead went the safe route, heading towards the Computer Programming world, in which I’m happy. Still I don’t think it’s what I was designed to do.

For a time when the required Calculus classes for the Computer Science major were still making me their @#$%& and flunking me out of school very late in my College Career, I briefly considered switching majors to English. I wasn't forced to pull the trigger as my genius (and 5th and final adviser) managed to substitute the remainder of my Calc classes for some flowcharts business class and a business organization class I could take offline. On top of everything else, I never even had to do a final project. To this day I still have to remind myself that I ACTUALLY DID graduate.

How those two joke classes add up to Calc 2, 3,4 and a final project I’ll never know, but for that wizard of an adviser I’ll be forever grateful.  

I had a lot of English major friends though. All but two of them got their teaching degree to go with it. I only remember two friends who got their English degree and didn't go on to teach. One is working at ShopKo and the other has been working at Olive Garden for 10+ years now.

This reminds me of the old college major joke:

The Engineering major asks, "How does it work?"

The Accounting major asks, "How much does it cost?"

The Art major asks, "Would you like fries with that?"

Jokes aside, if that’s what you’re passionate about you should totally go for it. And even if you are in year ten of distributing free breadsticks and grinding cheese into a salad while waiting to hear “when”, at least you studied what you love.

So does that mean I’m quitting my job, buying an old timey typewriter and going to town? Heck no! Daddy needs his nacho money.

I’m struggling to get to my point here (big surprise) but I’ll take a swing at it. It goes a little something like this.

It’s all about setting your standards very very low and exploiting technicalities. How very American of me right?

Just like an indoor football player from some town you've never heard of can lay claim to being a professional football player even if he only makes $200 bucks a game, I can say I’m a professional writer if I get money in exchange for writing something, no matter how small that amount of money.

I never thought of this until just now, but someone could just pay me a dollar to write something for them. That would be way better than the scheme I was concocting...oh well. I’ll still roll with “Scheme A”.

The other dream I have is both more and less attainable thanks to advancements in technology. I work in the book industry, complete with a warehouse. Ever since college I've always dreamed of having one copy of my book on a shelf there, even if I never sell a copy.

Everyone knows just how bad the odds are about getting something published. All the submissions and rejections. In fact it’s my understanding most publishers won’t even read anything unless you have an agent. All these things combined made my “shelf dream” always seem like a far off goal.

This is where the wonders of technology and the internet come in. Thanks to the wonderful internet world we live in anyone can self publish. It’s just a matter of money (just like everything else in America, more on that in the coming blogs).

Yes, even Jethro from Raccoon Kill, Alabama can self publish his 800 page manifesto on how the squirrels in his backyard are involved in a secret government conspiracy to control his mind.

Obviously I need to do more research especially if I’m going up against Jethro, but it’s worth a look. In the mean time….back to “Scheme A”.

When I started writing this I didn't realize how much legalese was/is involved. So much so, I can’t even tell you how it works, what it is, or any other number of things I don’t fully understand. The good news is you’re all smart people and I’m sure you’ll figure it out pretty quickly.

I’m pretty sure even if I follow all the rules they will find their way out of the deal. If that happens I’m still okay with it, it’s all about chasing a dream. I’m just grateful I don’t have to keep running breadsticks to people while doing so.

*= You didn’t really think I’d let the Bo firing go without sneaking in a shot at him did you?  

New Blogs On The Way!

New Blogs on the way, stay tuned folks.

1000 Words

The below image was sent to me by an alert blog reader of mine. It’s important to note that I don’t encourage the taking of pictures while driving a vehicle. When the reader asked if I wanted a picture sent to me I joked that I did because from what I understand a picture could be worth up to 1000 words on the open market. The result was a challenge issued to myself to write 1000 words about this picture. Although in retrospect the more challenging...um challenge would have been to keep it closer to 1000 words…..

After the image...let the counting begin.

I take this way home from the gym. Normally because I can’t turn left across two lanes of traffic.

I like that light, seems like most of the time I don’t need to stop at all. The light at the top of the hill is another story. 56th and Pioneers. I don’t think I’ve ever made it through that light without a long wait.

Of course, now that light reminds me of that accident I saw before I went to my brother’s house and helped him reshingle his roof. I find it funny to think about how hot it was that day, how brutally hot it was….

And now, it’s really really brutally cold out. And you really don’t notice the change. Every year things change so gradually, day by day, little by little. The sun rises a minute later and sets a minute sooner each day and before you know it, it’s dark by 5 pm and it’s so cold it physically HURTS to be outside.

The barren trees in this picture remind me of that too. The landscape around us changes so gradually too. Little by little, bud by bud, soon the whole world will be green again. And my allergies will hit me something fierce.

I don't really mind though. I like spring. It’s my birthday time. Although my birthday seems to mean less and less as each following year goes by, I still remember happier previous birthdays. Growing up is bittersweet.

I can remember being roughly preschool age and crying because I didn't want to grow older. Even then I knew being an adult sucked. A lot of that contributed to my constant nervous breakdowns in high school as the harsh realities of life slowly sank in.

When my mind doesn't have something better to be bummed out about, a chain is created, a string of thoughts, or “threads” as they say in computer science parlance, rapidly form in a Kevin Bacon connection kind of way. I think about the past, how I can never go back, and even as I sit there breathing, each passing second is one I can never ever get back. When I was having constant nervous breakdowns in high school resulting in panic attacks, these connections could happen in a matter of seconds and without warning.

I seemed to have diverged quite a ways from the picture at hand. And more than likely bummed out my readers in the process. (sorry guys)

The parking lot is for Goodrich, I can remember going there as I child as a rare treat and always getting mint chip ice cream. Again, we go back to happy memories from the past....Kevin Bacon…..boom boom boom….tears.

I remember their hard black metal chairs. The inside also has a distinctive smell. A good smell, a uniquely Goodrich smell.

I can remember not too long ago sitting perpendicular to where the vehicle taking the picture currently sits.

A car was trying to get out of the parking lot, had to make it through the parked cars in my lane, avoid oncoming cars in the turning lane, and cars oncoming in the opposite direction from the other lane.

If that was me I would have just said screw it, taken a right out of the parking lot on 48th and just gone around the block. Sure it might take more time, and it’s not about impatience on my part, there is the added aspect of safety.

All of this brings us back to the beginning which is why I often take this route home from the gym,  a right turn to avoid and not wait for four lanes of traffic before making a left turn and gunning the gas to avoid being t-boned..

All of this driving talk reminds me of just what a dangerous crap shoot driving is. You could be the best driver in the world, you could be following all the rules to a tee, even going the speed limit, hell you might be at a complete stop and someone could rear end you, totaling your car.

Mentioning cars reminds me of a show on either Discovery, TLC, or one of those channels. It’s prolly been a decade since it’s been on. I don’t remember the name. I do remember it was hosted by a quirky British guy in a lab coat.

He would explain the inner workings of machines in our lives in a way that anyone could understand them.

The show was equally quirky in a uniquely British sort of way. Almost Monty Pythonesque. Complete with cute, sarcastic call back animations. The two episodes I remember were an episode about how VCRs work and another about cars.

Now we’re starting to get into just how long ago this was...VCRs, an actual show involving learning on TLC or the Discovery channel, instead of yet another pawn shop, Bigfoot chasing, cupcake making or logging reality show.

Anyhoo, at the end of the episode the host, white lab coat on, briefly covered the exhaust of a car with a trash bag while listing off all of the bad things about cars. They are loud, inefficient, expensive, bad for the environment, dangerous...etc….etc….... (Dangerous being what hooked this show into my train of thought).

“So why are automobiles so successful?” he asked, “because they are so reliable”.

Of course the trash bag filled up with exhaust and had to be emptied before he even got done with his list of bad things about cars, but his point was well made.

Despite the necessity for the preemptive trash bag-o-exhaust emptying, his point was well made. Obviously, I mean, I remember it all these years later.

The efficiency point connects my brain to the demise of the steam locomotive. A lot of people think that they were replaced because they weren't as powerful as diesel locomotives; this isn't the case at all. Ever notice how many diesel locomotives are on an average train now a days? Even with six decades of diesel locomotive development? Now go find a picture of a steam train from back in the day, normally only one steam locomotive…. the killer? Efficiency. Steam locomotives had to stop about every fifteen miles to get fresh sand, coal, and water. Which is why there is a town almost exactly every fifteen miles when you go west of North Platte, Nebraska. There needed to be people to maintain the water towers, coal towers, then you need a manned signal tower, a Morse code operator so the trains that are stopping don’t collide. All of those people need places to live, they get married, their kids need schools, schools need teachers, all these people need food, so grocery stores...etc, etc, etc....next thing you know a town has sprung up. If I remember correctly, due to a lack of creativity the towns are even in alphabetical order.

Add to that, if a steam locomotive wasn't watched like a hawk (and even sometimes when they were) they would in rare cases tend to explode in an entire town shaking, earthquake generating iron shrapnel bomb, which, in case you hadn't already guessed….falls into the “really bad thing” category.

I’m already well over the 1000 word limit and I didn't get to talk about diesel locomotives in more depth, the restaurant up the street a few blocks (Remember when this blog was about a picture?). The unique history of the land next to the street in question, the cool local historian who I learned about it from… and on and on...

Damn, sure got my money’s worth (or should I say “word’s worth”) out of this picture.

Since 1999

A couple of weeks ago the Omaha Beef had a little get together before their game against the Sioux City Bandits. A sort of indoor tailgate party. Sounds a bit silly, but hey, why not have an indoor tailgate for an indoor football game? Twenty five cent wings and meatballs, live music, a raffle, plenty of people watching; not a bad way to spend some time pre-game. Not to mention the fact that Sioux City came into the game riding a thirty one game win streak. So, a big game was looming.

As the aging guitar player/lead singer read and re-read the latest raffle winner, while looking down through his librarian style reading glasses, something caught my eye. The merchandise table had very nice looking black Nebraska Legends division champions shirts.

I can hear Nebraska fans everywhere sighing, “How LAME!” and continue with, “We’re NEBRASKA! We’re above celebrating something so trivial as a measly divisional championship!”

Before I make my case against my fellow Nebraska fans (as it seems I so often do here) let me explain a few things about myself.

First of all, I own way more shirts than any heterosexual male should, and I collect them at an alarming rate. Want me to go to your lame charity function? I’m there, as long as there is a free t-shirt involved, and you have it in extra large. Also, the shirt can’t be lame. But I’ve turned down so few t-shirts in my life that that is a very unlikely mathematical possibility.

Secondly, I wouldn’t say I’ve had a tough life, I’ve been very blessed in fact. But I’ve overcome more than my fair share of obstacles. I’ve had to fight for everything I’ve ever gotten, and in doing so I’ve learned to appreciate every small victory that comes my way. So when Nebraska grabs their division title, yeah, I’m proud of them for that.

Lastly, I had just finished off another round of wings and the band started playing another Elvis song, so why not check the shirts out?

Turns out they were only $5. I’m guessing they needed unloaded, because my fellow Nebraska fans aren’t as enthused about a division title as I am.

Seems like I hear the announcers lament the same thing in every Nebraska game. “Nebraska hasn’t won a conference championship since NINE-TEEN-NINTY-NINE!”

They say it like they’ve discovered some astonishing stat that no one has ever heard before; the kind of discovery that will make football fans heads explode.

First of all, if it wasn’t repeated every time Nebraska football was brought up, yeah, that statement might carry some weight. But just like saying a word over and over again that word weirdly starts losing all meaning. (try it, it’s fun, only works if you say the word out loud though)

Repetition aside the first thing that comes to mind is all those Big Eight championships Nebraska won as I was growing up as a child in the 80s and early 90s. The conference name tells part of the story.

From a purely probability standpoint Nebraska only had to be better than 7 other teams. If you add twenty five percent more teams to a conference you are that much more likely to not win the conference crown. It also doesn’t help if two of those added teams are Texas and Texas A&M.

Speaking of quality of conference, in the Big Eight days all that stood between Nebraska and a conference crown was Oklahoma........and the sad versions of Kansas, Kansas State, Iowa State, Colorado, Missouri, and Okie State.......

I remember getting a college football preview magazine when I was a wee little Smitty. On the cover in big bold letters: “The Big Eight no longer the Big Three”. I was very confused by this, but looking back, what they meant was that Nebraska, Oklahoma, and Colorado were typically viewed as the big boys and the remainder of the conference tended to fight it out for a distant fourth.

As I recall, that statement turned out to be completely false for that season. Nebraska was good; as was Oklahoma and Colorado, in true Monty Python style, was “getting better”, but still a distant third; and everyone else still sucked,...very very badly.

Don’t get me wrong I’m not trying to diminish the accomplishment of all those Big Eight titles. Like I said, I love to celebrate every victory in life. I’m just trying to put things into proper perspective.

The next thing to keep in mind is that in addition to adding more teams to our conference, a conference championship was also introduced. Think about this. How many Big Eight titles do you think we would have won if we had to beat Oklahoma twice in the same season? I’d guess about as many we’ve won since being in conferences with a title game. 1979 Orange Bowl anyone?

Next, I’d like to point out that the divisions Nebraska has been in since this conference championship drought began have had six teams; only two less than the entire conference Nebraska was in when championships came in bunches. This was also the time when it was socially acceptable to throw oranges onto the field while beating Oklahoma. A ritual signifying a conference crown and a corresponding trip to the Orange Bowl.

So, is it so wrong of me to celebrate a division title? Especially, when the only difference between heaving tropical produce at the field, coupled with tearing down goal posts, versus poo-pooing a similar accomplishment; is a step down in team arrangement nomenclature and two fewer teams?

And hell, starting in 2014 there will be seven teams in our division, only one away from having a big eight DIVISION of our own.

Look at the NFL, a total of thirty two teams, two conferences with four divisions in each conference. If you win your conference......YOU’RE IN THE SUPER BOWL.

I know, I know the Super Bowl is a much bigger accomplishment, much more parody in the NFL etc etc. But the Big Ten is only one more round of expansion away from having sixteen teams and they may not even stop there. The same number of teams in both NFL conferences.

Now that I’ve made my case for pride in our team’s divisional accomplishment let me break down how I view each level of achievement analogy style.

Nebraska accomplishment / NFL equivalent

1. Winning Record and a bowl game / Made the playoffs as a wild card

I could see an argument here but the Seahawks made the playoffs a few years back with a very impressive 7-9 regular season record

2. Winning our division / First round bye and a berth in the NFC or AFC title game

3. Winning the conference title / Birth in the Super Bowl ( i.e the Rose Bowl or some other BCS equivalent)

4. Rose Bowl or some other BCS win / Winning the Super Bowl

5. National Championship / To me that’s a set above winning the Super Bowl, hard to fathom but that’s how awesome it would feel to me. No real NFL equivalent here.

Therefore, since I graduated from high school, by my logic Nebraska has been the Buffalo Bills of conference title games. I can live with that. Especially, if a neat, inexpensive shirt is involved.

New Blogs on the way

Hopefully.

No promises though.