This One Goes Out To All My Swiss Friends

At some point in my life I would like to make this blog an every day thing. Every article I have read about blogging preaches that regular updates is the best way to keep people coming back. I guess that's the whole point... to keep people coming back. My whole goal, however, is to just keep myself entertained. You're more than welcome to join in on the fun. I figure writing a blog is a little more accepted than carrying around a leather bound journal and documenting every move. Although it seemed to work well for Sebastian.

Oh, so good news. Google Maps now offers directions to destinations if you happen to be walking. Everyone knows it's less dangerous to walk across the country if you don't use Dwight's intertwined baby. Poor Forrest just had to wing it. I remember the good old days. When you could get a milk shake for a quarter, let your kids ride their bikes in the neighborhood, when Barry Bonds had a normal sized head, and you didn't have Google telling you whose farm to walk through.

I went home last weekend. My dad had his retirement party. It's kind of weird when your "old man" actually becomes an old man. Anyway, I was a bit overwhelmed with all the people that came to celebrate. My parents house was bustling and rustling all at the same time. I lived with a family of 6 growing up so you would think I would be used to people all over the place. Yet, I've lived in an apartment by myself for almost the last year and I love it. Not including the walking around in your underwear thing, (which can not be overstated) but it's just nice to have your own space. So here's the question... Would you rather live in isolation for a year with no outside contact or live in a confined space with 100 other people with no respite? I'll go with the isolation every time. I know they* say that people go crazy in isolation, but I think Nelson Mandela turned out alright. That being said, I'm contractually obligated to say that I love my family very much. Except for the adopted ones. Kidding!

*They still haven't figured out who they are. But they sure say a lot of things.

I knew for sure that I was on my cyclical downward trend of fitness yesterday when I had a remote at a fitness center. I was way more interested in the Chick-Fil-A than looking at the new equipment. Also, how silly is it that gyms serve soft drinks? Or is it smart? A fitness center calls in with an uncontrollable evil laugh and says that it keeps them* coming. He also mentions possibly bringing in Philly cheese steaks and German beer.

*Not to be confused with they. Very different.

TGIT. Peace.

Two Minutes For Credit Check

Welcome back. Just to get it out of the way, the midnight showing of The Dark Knight was awesome. I feel like I don't really have to talk about it a lot because it seems as if every movie-goer in America has already seen this film. The thing that everyone perpetually talks about is Heath Ledger's performance. I certainly didn't think the hype was unwarranted. He was amazing. The movie had more of a sinister feel, but I liked the gritty reality of the flick. I'm planning on seeing it again this weekend at IMAX and I'm as excited to see it the second time around.

So an interesting thing happened at this local premiere. For whatever reason there was minimal screen entertainment as people were filing into their seats. Apparently the Cinemark Theatre didn't deem it necessary to let us know for the fifteenth time that Jodie Foster was nominated for an Academy Award for her role in Taxi Driver via the Movie Trivia feature. So I guess people felt the need to entertain themselves. After the wave mercifully failed, I would say at least 27% of the audience started singing the FreeCreditReport.com song. I'm serious. People were really getting into harmonically describing their need to check their respective personal credit statuses. I don't think I'm necessarily making fun of these people, I just don't get the phenomenon. I don't really watch a ton of TV so I guess I haven't allowed the evil of mass marketing geared towards preying on those who might be afraid that they will remain a pirate waiter for the rest of their life reach me yet. Three points for a run-on sentence. I just wish I would have taken the points 4 years ago when the bet was still open that a song about checking your credit report would be available on iTunes.

Things I've been pondering as Zimbabwe sorts out its standard inflation issue. Ya know, like why it costs 10 billion dollars for bus fare.

-Is it funny to anyone else that Punky Brewster is a crusader for the breast reduction movement?

-I can totally understand why people think it's justified that they don't pay taxes. Here is another example.

-Tony LaRussa might be finding a stiffer drink than wine after these last two games against the Brewers.

-I don't even really like the Beastie Boys version of Girls, but Hello Tokyo's remake made me smile.

-I wish I had a dollar for every time I heard "I'm not racist, but..." recently. I would have more dollars than I do now.

-For nostalgia sake, how come no company has come up with a Grandma's House air refresher? I mean, they all smell the same. I don't think it would be too hard.

That's all I got. Later.

Turn the Light Off

Per CNN, Barack Obama doesn't sweat. They just thought you should know.

I'm ready to return from my baseball vacation. I got another solid three months in me of analyzing pitch sequences for three hours every night.

How come there are no movies about modern-day actors? You're telling me there hasn't been one compelling story about a living actor that could be depicted in a movie? Singers, athletes, politicians... they all get movies made about them before they even die. Actors don't. This is clearly discrimination by the movie industry against its own kind. Is it because they would all insist to play themselves and directors aren't so sure that Jack Nicholson would be convincing enough to play a young Jack Nicholson?

Speaking of Mr. Nicholson, The Dark Knight premieres this weekend. To say I'm a big Batman fan would be an understatement. I grew up on the old Adam West shows and I will be in attendance of the midnight show tonight. Obviously, this particular rendition will be exciting yet chilling due to the passing of Heath Ledger only in January. The following is what I wrote about Heath's death back in January:

"My favorite color is black. I realize that technically speaking black isn't even a color, rather the absence of color. However, I just like it. I don't think anyone would ever confuse me as goth, but I can see the attraction. Feeling the need to stand out, being rebellious and rooting for the "bad guy", having people perceive you as mysterious and dangerous. I get all that. I just hope my teenagers don't go throught that phase. I'm totally going to be the over-protective type of dad that has to give my daughters a full fledged inspection before they can leave the house.

So, growing up my favorite superhero was Batman. Batman was inherently a good guy, but there was a reason he was called the Dark Knight. Bruce Wayne had a troubled childhood after the murder of his parents, and had a hard time finding himself and what he wanted to accomplish. He was internally conflicted. He eventually decided to fight evil in Gotham to restitute what his father had started, but more so out of rage. He had maintained a level of anger after his parents' murders that fueled him day by day. Bruce Wayne was an extremely wealthy man. He understood, though, that money does not create happiness. Everyone has to decide for themselves where their root of personal satisfaction lies, and his was in fighting evil.

Fast forward from the comic realm to reality. I was saddened along with everyone else to hear of the passing of Heath Ledger. It's interesting that someone that I have had absolutely no contact with whatsoever can have an impact on me. Truthfully, most celebrity deaths aren't in the least bit numbing and I just accept them as the cyclical process of the way Hollywood works. Say good bye to a few, say hello to a few more. For whatever reason, Heath's death bothered me. Perhaps it's for selfish reasons because he is ironically enough in the new Batman movie coming out this summer. It's no secret that I'm a huge dork and invested in the entire Batman franchise. I think, though, that at my age it is finally resonating to me that no matter where you are in life it's very possible to be completely and totally unhappy. Authorities have already dismissed the possibility of suicide, which is encouraging. However, I don't think it would be unfair to say that Heath Ledger's life was a bit troubled. For all the money, all the fame, all the adoration from females he struggled to keep afloat in the sometimes unreachable stratum of satisfaction. He was undoubtedly uber-talented and had a bright future ahead of him. I was pumped to see him play the Joker in The Dark Knight this summer. Now, the whole production will take on a whole new context. A villain is gone, this time way too early. "

One Order of the Derby, Minus the Bermanisms Please

Today is a good day. A lot of exciting things are happening lately and even more prospects are on the horizon. Not to mention, I'm still elated that Billy Packer is not returning to CBS.

It's Tuesday. That means you can go buy a CD if ya know, you like music. My pick of the day is The Hold Steady. They've been around a while but have just recently started to get noticed nationally. And if Daniel Radcliffe likes them, count me in.

Josh Hamilton. That was stupid good. My chills got progressively more pronounced as I was watching the Home Run Derby last night. Who cares if he didn't win? People will remember that display for a very long time. It definitely didn't take him very long to win over the predominantly Yankee crowd as they started chanting "Hamilton!" over and over. I mean, you can't help but root for someone like that. If you want to read an amazing story, here ya go. I thought Peter Gammons said it best last night during the broadcast. He said something to the effect of America is not flawless. It's filled with imperfect people and people struggling all the time. Josh Hamilton is a great testimony that you can turn your life around after staring straight at death with no hope in sight. And his wife. His wife that stuck with him throughout the whole ordeal and prayed for him to recover. It gives me chills right now thinking about it. Not to mention he is fairly proficient at hitting a baseball.

I feel like that's all I have to say. Too much to do and not enough time. Peace.

TGIF

TGIF. It reminds me of watching Step by Step and Family Matters. When I was 12 I didn't exactly have the busiest social calendar. After I got tired of batting practice with a whiffle bat and lightning bugs in the summertime, I was pretty much ready to check out the meaningful message at the 22 minute mark of Full House. Now my Fridays pretty much consist of awesomeness. I usually take a solid nap after work, eat at least half a pizza, and curse the Cardinals' bullpen. Sometimes I even walk to DQ to get a blizzard. Crazy I know.

Ok, without having a theological debate, what constitutes something being spiritual? I realize "spiritual" is a bit of a loaded word and I'm nowhere close to a being a zealot where I would criticize someone's answer. I thought about this the other night as I was listening to Radiohead's In Rainbows album. Most of you will probably scoff at that statement, but I find it pretty dang spiritual hanging out in my apartment listening to Radiohead. Your response might be the standard "But Cale, Radiohead doesn't even sing about anything spiritual!". I think that's exactly my point. I've probably said it before, but I don't know hardly any lyrics to any song. I know Mary Had a Little Lamb and the Star Spangled Banner or whatever, but I do not pay any attention at all to lyrics. I know this sounds terrible, especially coming from a DJ, but I'm just being honest. I don't "connect" to songs in that sense. I've never once in my life had a song "speak to me". But I love the music aspect. And I would suspect that more people than you might think are like this. Emotionalism plays a big part in how people connect to different mediums. The only example I can come up with in the traditional spiritual sense (church) is the song Shout To the Lord. If you haven't heard this song, you should. It's a jam. That probably sounds funny, but it's a great song. I'll tell you how I know it's a good song. I've never been to a church service in my life (and I've been to plenty) where this song was played and people didn't get crazy excited. After examining the lyrics, they really aren't that much different than most of the modern-day church songs. But this song has an awesome beat. It really does. It sucks you in. When the chorus starts, people love it. I know what you're thinking. You think this is sacrilege. I would have to disagree. There are probably way better songs about Jesus and such. Civilla Martin calls in and agrees. (By the way, that's the second time I've referenced Civilla Martin in my blog. I need bonus points.) But Shout to the Lord is a charged up emotional song. So one could argue that it's not necessarily what the song says, but how that song/book/passage takes that person to a deeper, spiritual level. Radiohead could be singing about monkeys in purple space suits. I wouldn't know the difference. The thing is, I FEEL spiritual when I listen to them. I'm certainly in no position to judge what takes you to that place, and some of you may never want to get there anyway. You may be too busy sitting in every seat at the Rose Bowl. However if your answer is Rob Zombie, my mother would like to have a word with you.

I think it's funny that people think this commercial is strange. Are Pat Robertson and Al Sharpton supposed to be that different? One is African-American. The other is Caucasian. Other than that, they are both leaders of slanted organizations that say ridiculous things about tumultuous events. The most surprising thing about this commercial was that Pat Robertson didn't break the couch because his legs are just so freakin' strong!

I probably have more for ya, but we'll get to it next week. Have a great weekend!

None of Your Bees Wax

I told you. I told you. I told you. Yesterday I predicted that Mark Mulder would throw a no-hitter. Well guess what peeps? Mulder didn't allow a hit that entire game last night. Granted, he was knocked out in the first inning after two walks and a possibly career-ending shoulder setback but I was so right. Does that mean I'm now a prognosticator? Because that sounds gross.

Try to go to any college or university in the continental U.S. and have a 5 minute conversation with a girl without her saying "I know, right?". It's impossible. My friend Jordan seems to think this is acceptable for dudes to say as well. He is wrong.

Happy Don't Step on a Bee Day. By the way, have we figured out what was causing all the bees to disappear? Surprisingly, The Happening never explained the answer. I do know that Howard Stern is very concerned about this issue. That's what happens when you have more money than you can possibly spend and you're engaged to a supermodel. You start worrying about bees. I'm worried about filling my car with gas and keeping my character's ERA lower than 1.00 in MLB: The Show.

It bothers me when this exchange occurs:

Know it all: I was watching (a movie) last night. God, I haven't seen that movie in forever.

Dum dum: Oh really? I've never seen that movie. Is it good? I should check it out.

Know it aller: You haven't see that movie? SHUT UP! You really haven't seen it?

Dum dummer: Nope. I think you're so cool that you've seen/heard something that I haven't. Can I buy you a new belt?

Alright, that last part probably doesn't happen. But who cares? This happens more often than you would ordinarily think. Sure, go ahead and suggest something. But don't make the other person feel stupid. Most people don't want to watch or listen to your stupid preferences anyway. I say this as I generally will give out musical suggestions once a week. But feel free to call me a hippie wannabe and suggest that I listen to at least one classic rock album before I tell you the importance of My Morning Jacket. And really, My Morning Jacket isn't that important. Don't let your aspiring local entertainment section newspaper reporter fool you.

But really, it is rather enjoyable to listen to their music.

Later haters.

Listen Up

So welcome to the new site. After all of the complaining about aesthetics and wanting to make sure this blog looks decent, I disregarded all of those notions and decided to just start doing the dang thing. I'm still trying to work out some kinks and hopefully at some point the blog won't look like it's being done by a Gothic 14 year old. Although I assure you that it would certainly be more creative. I'll put up the links on MySpace and Facebook when I post, but this is where you can expect the daily/weekly/however often I feel like it that particular time rants. You heard?

Oh, and I'm using Google Analytics to help track traffic. If you have a blog or website you might want to check it out. Google is way cooler than Excite. Did not see that one coming.

So if you're new to the show, welcome. You can check out old blogs on my MySpace page.

That couple in all those Sonic commercials would probably be a bit more robust if they really ate there all the time.

I've noticed, especially lately, that I really hate when people interrupt. Nothing is more frustrating. Then again, I think I do the same thing. Everyone feels the need to one-up the other in a conversation. Or talk louder. Talking louder is my favorite move. You know a fun game? If someone starts to play the volume shenanigan with you, see how high you can get the decibel level using the see-saw method. Then when the other person is at the peak just get real quiet and enjoy the entertainment. This is especially useful for older people as they won't have to invest in a hearing aid or the extremely creepy Listen Up device. By the way, if you haven't seen the infomercial for the aforementioned product you are really missing out. It's hilarious in a stalker, perverted sort of way.

Anyway, I think that's why two of my best friends are clinical psychologists. They're professional listeners. They let you get the b.s. out of the way and then, and only then do they tell me that I'm an idiot. That's all I want. To have ample time to prove my idiocy.

For those of you who read my blog regularly you know that I'm obsessed with words - the literal meanings, the root of common expressions, spellings. Anyway, we had an office-wide conversation this morning and I need the answer. The saying that sparked the conversation was "I know ____ like the back of my hand." We've all heard that expression. But my question is which side is the back of the hand? I always assumed that meant the top (not palm) side of the hand. It just seemed logical in my head that the palm would be the front because I always was looking at my hand at a downward angle and seeing the back. And since you see that side of your hand most often, I guessed the meaning implied that you know that part of the body pretty well. But what if that side is the front? What if you actually have to turn your hand over to see the back? I guess that would also make sense. The palm has more discernible features. There are lines, fingerprints, often scars. When you hold someone's hand, you see the top of the hand. So wouldn't that make the palm side the back of the hand? Maybe Mick Jagger knows the answer and just isn't telling. But seriously, I have to know.

You can have your "don't put periods in my name anymore" CC Sabathia, Brewers. Enjoy Mr. Harden, Cubs. The Cards have Mark Mulder going tonight! I mean, have you seen Mark Mulder? Jonah Hill thinks he looks like the first time he heard the Beatles. Mulder can pitch 8 innings, ok 3 innings, and still have that hair looking magnificent. That's impressive. I guarantee that intimidates the opposition. He'll probably throw a no-hitter tonight. Actually, the Phillies will probably have negative hits against him. Mark it down. Get it? Mark? I don't crack myself up.

Alright, that's it. Thanks for checking out the new site. Let me know if you have any suggestions or if you know certifiably what side is really the back of the hand. Good day.

Butting Out

MySpace tells me that 4 people have read my blog today. That's so nice of you to do considering I haven't posted anything in over a week. You must be really bored or haven't stopped by in a while. Either way, it's good to see you again. Last week I was a little more concerned with training Jess on the Cat and getting my crap together on ZZL to have the time to write a blog. Now, I don't have to wake up at the badonkadunk crack of dawn so I'm not as mopey.

I think people get really lazy with words. Like making up new words. The first thing that comes to mind is butt cleavage. You remember butt cleavage. Jamie Lynn's older sister and other classy gals around Hollywood started the trend where they would wear their pants really low and show where the sun doesn't shine. Except for in their case the sun would shine because their parents were awful human beings and were probably too busy drinking mai tais than raising their kids. These are the kind of girls my grandma likes to call floozies. Ladies, you do not want to be a floozy. I'm not really sure what the requirements are, but I hear that One Night In Paris Hilton is giving out free lessons. Anyway, why call it butt cleavage anyway? Why not make up a new word? We already had cleavage. That was a perfect opportunity to start a verbal trend as well. Ariel did it. Why can't we? Other examples are hot, cool, sweet, and capillaries. One of those doesn't belong. Gordon from Sesame Street wants you to pick which one.

So yeah, I'm a rock jock now. This means I get to pause more in between sentences and act like I don't care that I'm here. Also, almost immediately I started growing chest hair and smoking 3 packs of cigarettes a day. The All-Request Lunch is a little different than the Lost 80's Lunch. It's pretty much a lot of the same songs we play anyway, just in a request format. So I'm not sure if I'll put up the playlist or not. Maybe I'll just write you a poem every day or possibly a sonnet. No chance I will write you a limerick though. Those things are downright difficult. If you have any suggestions, you can send me a message via the internets.

The weekend was good. I swam, rode my bike some, played basketball, ate ice cream, played video games, and watched baseball and fireworks. All that and I'm not even 8 years old. Amazing.

Oh, so it seems like my entire family is on Facebook now. So, I'm going to start posting these little blogs on Facebook as well.

Oh and one more thing. Big news. I got my 100th Obama is a Muslim e-mail today. They have now surpassed the donate money to an African prince notes and now only trail the Viagra offers. If all goes according to plan, however, they might just surpass all by November. I'll fill you in on the stats as we go along.

Ta ta for now.