1 Happy St

I have a policy of never speaking in ancient languages, like Greek or Aramaic or Latin, et cetera.

I don't think I'm a racist, but I really don't understand the Blue Man Group.

I took an online quiz to see if I have obsessive compulsive disorder. I took it 6 times to be sure it was accurate.

Ice Cube, Ice-T, and Vanilla Ice are all washed up. I think we can blame global warming.

That reminds me of the time I saw Tone Loc at Disney World. I yelled, "Hey, it's Ice-T! Oh no. It's just Tone Loc." Yes, I said "just Tone Loc". And yes, he heard me. And yes, I'm white.

Here is the latest chapter in the well documented golf adventures of the guys of 1 Happy St.

As many of you may know by now, Tuesday night is my golf league night. Brian only really golfs when someone asks him, so he can almost get away with being a lousy golfer. Since I play in a competitive league on a weekly basis, I actually have to do things like play it where it lies and keep score and explain to my wife why I need to buy more golf balls again.

One would think that with all the golf I play, my score would be showing signs of improvement. You would think that. And now, you'd actually be right! Last night was my personal best round. I shot a 50. I would have broken 50 had my putt for par on the last hole been half an inch to the right.

We play 9 holes every week ("Just like Alex Rodriguez!" says my 11 month old Jack) and I'd been averaging around a 56-60 this year. Last year I was in the 60's consistently, but I upgraded to Callaway irons and my game improved immediately.

Unfortunately, my score was not the highlight of the evening. The most excitement of the night took place between the fairways of the 3rd and 4th holes. As is often the case, my drive on the 3rd hole par 4 went far and way right. It landed on the far side of the 4th fairway. With about 200 yards to the green, I squared up with my 5 wood. From my angle, I had a clear line to the pin, with several small trees far to the left. In those trees was someone from group playing the 4th hole. I saw him there but he was no where near where I was aiming. So I let it go.

And I hit him. I'm telling you, my ball hunted him down like Tommy Lee Jones. He wasn't even close to where I was aiming but my ball darted at him so fast, I barely had time to yell, "FORE!" He never even flinched. My ball caromed (Brian likes that word), and I quickly went over to see if he was okay.

Thankfully, he was. Actually, I think the ball really only grazed his butt. He was wearing baggy shorts and I think that helped slow the ball down considerably. Of course I apologized profusely (is there any other activity one can do "profusely") and he told me he was fine and not to worry about it. I was hoping I'd catch up with him in the clubhouse to buy him a beer but I never saw him again. I also could have thanked him for stopping my ball from going too far off course.

All in all, it could have been a lot worse, but I was happy to bogey the hole.

So this morning, I was in the shower and I was standing there looking at the rack of shampoo and soap thinking, "I have no idea what I have left to do." I honestly couldn't remember if I had shampooed yet. It wasn't until the shampoo was in my hair that I realized that I had washed it once already.

My mind is definitely going. It's been happening a lot more lately. In fact, just the other day something similar happened when I just stood there in some room trying to remember what I was in there for. Or maybe I was outside? And that might have been today.

I think these may be the early warning signs for that one disease. What's it called? That guy that was president before the guy who's president now's dad was president had it, I think. I sure I hope I don't have that. That would suck not to be able to remember anything.

Following up on Brian's coffee cup dilemma yesterday, I just had an encounter that I'm also looking for advice on.

It seems that whenever I walk through a door and someone is behind me, they are just the wrong distance back so that if I hold the door for them, I have to stand there waiting for them to catch up and then they do that uncomfortable jog up to the door because then they feel bad that you held the door for them and they would have just preferred you hadn't because now they're running and they really weren't in that big of a hurry to begin with. But then if I decide to ignore them and not hold the door, I run the risk of them thinking, "What the hell, man? Just slam the door in my face, why don't you?!"

So the question is, what is the distance where you absolutely have to hold the door for the person behind you without look like a total tool or a total jerk?

And what did they do in Star Trek with those doors that swoosh open and closed? Did you ever just stand there in the doorway with the door swooshed open while you waited for your Vulcan friend to catch up when really all he's thinking is, "The logical thing to do would be to just walk through the room portal and just let me worry about swooshing the door myself. What, just because I've got pointy ears, I can't swoosh my own damn door? Condescending human prick!"

Did you ever put gel in your hair, forget to brush it, and then go to work that way and then by the time you got there the gel had set in so your hair was "frozen" like that for the rest of the day?

Me neither. I was just asking.

Are you like me? Do you dwell on things you've said or done in the past that have made you look like an idiot? I'm not sure what reminded me of this story today but now I can't stop thinking about it.

When I was 16 I worked at a movie theater as an usher. During one busy night at the movies, myself and the other ushers were rushing to clean a theater before allowing the next showing in. It took a while because it was particularly messy in there. We knew the crowd outside was growing anxious about getting to their seats because we were coming up on the start time.

When I opened the door to let the mob of people inside, I started to say, "Thank you for your patience." But halfway through, my mind called an audible and decided to say "Sorry about the inconvenience" so it came out sounding like, "Thank you for your inconvenience." I'm such a moron.

These are the sorts of things that pop into my mind every once in a while. There are thousands of little faux pas that have piled up in my head to make me the social misfit I am today. I need therapy.

Well I finally stopped making my 6 year old save up and just got him the Wii after all. We got it last night after a friend of my brother in law's former roommate pulled some strings for us. The Wii is in such hot demand that the cashier told me to be careful going back to the car so I didn't get robbed. I'm not kidding.

I can't give you a full Wii-view seeing as how I currently have only played for about 3 hours and I've only played Wii Sports, which came packaged with the system, and WarioWare Smooth Moves. But my first impression is that the Wii is going to ruin my life. It's incredibly addictive and unlike any video game experience I've ever had. I highly recommend it.

Wii Sports is a package of five games, tennis, golf, baseball, boxing and bowling. Each of those games requires you to move your controller as if you were actually playing the game. You swing your controller to hit the ball or your opponent and its remarkably life-like. I was especially impressed by bowling. You control the spin of the ball depending on the angle of the controller as you follow through. It was the first game I played with my son and we were both instantly hooked.

I can already tell that WarioWare Smooth Moves is going to be even more addictive. It is a series of mini-tasks that you must accomplish in a short amount of time. You have to have quick Wii-flexes to play this one.

Included in this Nintendo is a wireless connection so you can link up with your home wireless network. This was something Nintendo's previous system, the GameCube, sorely lacked. Not only will this allow you to play games against opponents online, but also will give you the opportunity to download games from other systems. Super Mario Bros. and Sonic the Hedgehog are among the titles currently available to download for a small fee.

Some of the other features included are a live up to date weather forecaster and an online news channel. The Opera internet browser is also available for free download allowing you to surf the web on your TV. I found surfing to be rather clunky on the Wii since its not too easy to type with the Wiimote but I wouldn't be surprised if we saw a Wii Keyboard available somewhere down the road.

I know some of you may be thinking that I'm too old for video games but I have to say that this system is going to bridge the age gap. My first thought when seeing how simple it is to maneuver a controller that reacts to your movements was that older generations are going to love this. My mom always moved the controller when she made Mario jump with the original Nintendo anyway and we always thought she was retarded. It turns out she was just ahead of her time.

I have come to the realization that Pacman is life. I wake every day, and begin the race around this maze of a world. I consume as much as I can and when I'm done consuming, I start over and consume some more. Yet I don't feel as if I'm the one in control. Sometimes it's as if someone has taken over my every move.

We all have our own demons chasing us, danger lurking around every corner. Lately I've been having trouble finding either the courage or strength to face these ghosts head on. Sometimes I just want to forget about everything and enjoy the fruits of my labor.

All this being said, I'm still finding life to be too unpredictable. Sometimes I feel as if walking through one door will take me right back to where I started.

One hen.

One hen. Two ducks.

One hen. Two ducks. Three squawking geese.

One hen. Two ducks. Three squawking geese. Four limerick oysters.

One hen. Two ducks. Three squawking geese. Four limerick oysters. Five corpulent porpoises.

One hen. Two ducks. Three squawking geese. Four limerick oysters. Five corpulent porpoises. Six pair of Don Alverzo's tweezers.

One hen. Two ducks. Three squawking geese. Four limerick oysters. Five corpulent porpoises. Six pair of Don Alverzo's tweezers. Seven thousand Macedonians in full battle array.

One hen. Two ducks. Three squawking geese. Four limerick oysters. Five corpulent porpoises. Six pair of Don Alverzo's tweezers. Seven thousand Macedonians in full battle array. Eight brass monkeys from the ancient sacred crypts of Egypt.

One hen. Two ducks. Three squawking geese. Four limerick oysters. Five corpulent porpoises. Six pair of Don Alverzo's tweezers. Seven thousand Macedonians in full battle array. Eight brass monkeys from the ancient sacred crypts of Egypt. Nine apathetic, sympathetic, diabetic, old men on roller skates with a marked propensity towards procrastination and sloth.

One hen. Two ducks. Three squawking geese. Four limerick oysters. Five corpulent porpoises. Six pair of Don Alverzo's tweezers. Seven thousand Macedonians in full battle array. Eight brass monkeys from the ancient sacred crypts of Egypt. Nine apathetic, sympathetic, diabetic, old men on roller skates with a marked propensity towards procrastination and sloth. Ten lyrical, spherical diabolical denizens of the deep who hall stall around the corner of the quo of the quay of the quivery, all at the same time.

In case you were wondering.

The Keeper of My Heart

You held all my pencils, colored and number two.
My ruler even had holes made just for you.
The sound of your velcro echos in my memory...
A day more innocent... more free...
Free like the loose leaf you saved from slushy boots on the floor of the bus.
My three-ringed friend, nothing will ever come between us.

I've been playing in a golf league on Tuesday nights. This is the first time I've ever taken part in a league so it's been quite a new experience. For instance, in league play, they frown upon things like (just off the top of my head) trying to run over the geese with the golf cart, making sandtrap angels or even heckling the other players in the foursome. It should probably be said that making suggestive comments about "foursomes" is also discouraged, apparently.

Anyway, we're four weeks into the season (out of 16) and now I've been assigned a "handicap". Much to my dismay, this doesn't mean that I'll be allowed to park closer to the first tee. Basically it means that I suck at golf so they've given me a NEW score so it looks like I know what the hell I'm doing out there. The lower your handicap, the better the golfer. To give you an idea of how high my handicap is, if we were talking about ACTUAL handicaps, I'd be on the course drooling on the flag on the 7th hole. I hope to improve to "hugs strangers for no reason" by the end of the season.

It got me thinking that golf has to be one of the only walks of life (hehe) where you can still use that word. That being said, if I don't get any better as this season goes on, I may have to petition the league to start calling it my "golf-challenged" score. I'm actually mostly just "putter-challenged" but that sounds too much like something else which I'm not about to admit to on this blog, but which coincidentally would also refer to a problem with my stroke. Ok I'm going to stop now.

I'll try to keep you posted on my progress.

1. I'm named after my dad who was named after Gregory Peck who's real name was actually Eldred.
2. I'm afraid of squirrels. They have rabies.
3. When I was a kid, I took swimming lessons three summers in a row. I still can't swim.
4. I like to eat potatoes raw.
5. I've never eaten a Big Mac.
6. I have memorized the movie, Steel Magnolias.

Thanks,
Eldred