The Worst Chinese Food Experience Ever

On Wednesday night after a disheartening loss in one of my basketball leagues, I get in my car and find my cell phone with 1 missed call and a voicemail attached to it.

It was my dad. “Hey Seth, we’re thinking of going out tonight, not sure where though. It’s 7 o’clock, so give us a call if you can make it and we’ll let you know where we’re going.”

I call my dad.

“Hey, sup.”

“Hey boy! We just got to this Chinese restaurant in Mill Creek. You know the old Imperial Garden?”

“Yeah.”

“Come meet us here.”

“Ok, I just got done with basketball, I’ll be there in 20 minutes. Go ahead and order without me.”

*click*

20 minutes later I arrived at Zen Garden, after getting off the phone with my cousin Nick who was telling me how “Good this place” was. Boy, was that such a nice setup. Thinking about it now, I wonder if he was joking with me? Nawwww…

I sit down, and the place is pretty empty. My family’s got the corner table, meant for 6 people but seating 4 including me.

I noticed something interesting – there weren’t any drinks on the table. Now, with most restaurants, isn’t that the first thing they get you? Something to drink? Even water?

Either way, I asked my parents if they had ordered already and they had said they ordered 10 minutes ago. That was 7:10 pm. Notice the time as I was a bit shocked by how things played out chronologically.

A few minutes later, a waiter arrived and asked if I wanted anything to drink. My dad said he was having a beer, but I declined as I had just been running for the past 30 minutes.

“Water is fine for me, thanks.”

And everything was normal up until that point. They brought me out my water, my mom and sister their cokes and my dad a beer.

At around 7:20 our appetizer arrived. It was wonton soup. My mom beat us all to the punch with the first complaint of the night.

“It’s not even hot.”

I could see from the waitress pouring the soup in to the cups for us that it wasn’t even steaming. I expected it not to be hot. It was about as warm as my typical shower water, and on top of that the wontons weren’t very good either. My dad suggested that we not complain as it would just take us another 15 minutes anyway to get another bowl of soup that was hotter, and by then we’d be eating our main courses. Or so we thought.

We finished with our soup and were still waiting. We were all filling the table with stories from the day, how work is going and reminiscing on my mom’s 50^th birthday party which was absolutely fabulous.

Finally at around 7:35 (I was looking at the clock often since I was hungry) our first entrée arrived. Fried chicken. My dad’s favorite. And that’s all that came. Other than the rice and tea (which was surprisingly hot) a few minutes later. Now for me, I rarely can just eat meat for dinner. But since I was starving I began chomping away at just the chicken.

Lucky for my sister and me, they had fried the chicken in some sort of peanut sauce and within minutes we were both having an allergic reaction. Awesome. Here we were, starving, with chicken that at least looked edible in front of us and we could do nothing but eat some rice and drink our water. What was this? Prison?

At about 7:45 another family came and sat down next to us. We heard them order their food, conversing in Chinese with the waitress who was serving us. At the same time another one of our entrees came out. Just sweet and sour pork. I didn’t know if these people were part of the “slow food” movement, or if they were just trying to piss us off. The unfortunate thing is, when my dad gets pissed (at anyone else but my family) it’s pretty funny. He gets all red in the face and talks under his breath, but loud enough so the people he is angry with can hear him (but in this situation they might not have understood him).

Here’s what got him though: Another few minutes passed, and the waitress brought out a vegetable plate for us. We all looked at it incredulously as we have never seen that kind of veggie plate before. We started to mention something as another waiter came up and told our waitress (in Chinese of course) that that dish was the table next to ours.

So wait, they’ve been here for less than 15 minutes and have already received one of their main courses? How is this possible? Soon after, the table next to ours was in full on eat mode. While we were waiting for our last two entrees. I was slowly eating the sweet and sour pork and devouring what was left of the small bowls of rice they provided us.

At around 8 pm my Dad (furious) was able to pull a waiter aside (not our waitress) and ask where our food was. Here’s what he literally sounded like:

“Wah hah yuuu wha…hmmm…ahhhh…”

That was his answer to my dad’s question of, “Uhh, we also ordered brocooli with beef and chow mein too”.

Our waitress then came over to see what the commotion was about. My dad, now obviously angry with both of them (and my sister and I giggling together) was asking where our other final two entrees were.

She apologized and at 8:10 pm we got our broccoli beef. It was good. Don’t get me wrong. Everything was mediocre up until the broccoli beef. We shoved it down our throats because at that point we were extremely starved and luckily that filled us up. There was no rice left, we never got a refill on our drinks and the only time we were paid and attention was when we said, “Excuse me” to the waiter/waitress.

While we were eating what would be our last entrée there, my mom and dad were doing their typical “terrible service” argument:

Dad: Terrible Service

Mom: Mahal, they can hear you from here

Dad: So?! We put in our orders over an hour ago an…

Mom: Well, let’s just cancel the chow mein and go.

I agreed. My dad told the waitress off and told her to cancel the chow mein and get us our bill.

My sister suggested no tip, or a tip of a few cents. I one upped her and suggested a negative time.

“Yeah, just put -$20 on the tip line dad. And put the final bill of what you would pay after a negative $20 tip.”

More than an hour and a half after sitting down, my dad was now in a rage over the bill. They charged us a dollar a bowl for the rice (all in total probably about 1 cup worth – I eat that on my own – and for added measure $4 could buy you almost 7 lbs of rice from the grocery store) and also charged us $3 for tea.

What

The

Fuck

I have never been charged for rice or tea at a Chinese restaurant. Those are just the complimentary items that come with your meal. They didn’t even ask us if we wanted rice or tea. They just provided it to us and then charged it to us! Nice!

We stood up, walked out (it took some convincing from all of us now to keep my dad quiet – he still got out some “terrible”s as we were walking out) and left as quickly as we could.

I am so surprised at how horrible my dining experience was that I am considering putting this up for everyone to read under the Seattle city search for Chinese restaurants. That would be a bit vicious because I think this could single handedly put them out of business, but with service like that, they deserve it. While I was leaving I looked around the restaurant at the other scattered patrons who all seemed perfectly happy (not all of them looked like they could speak Chinese). Was it a fluke? I’ll never know. Because I’m never going back.

F you Zen Garden.

Smoking Up

I wasn’t sure what else to write about. I’ve been devoid of topics or things that could actually fill space. I call it smoking up because it makes you high. And gives me a euphoric feeling. I guess I should start using "drinking down" then? Hmmm...

During college for about a year and a half I was very much in to the greens. I would almost even consider myself a pot head during that time. I loved the new sensations and the fact that I didn’t have to spend much to have as good of a time as if I had been drinking.

But like everything else, the novelty of it kind of wears off after awhile. At least for me it did. That and I had a few paranoid trips that I never wanted to experience again. That was the problem with me. Is that I am a bit of a control freak when it comes to my brain, and how my body is feeling.

With drinking, in my opinion, I can control how I feel based on how much I have to drink. Usually. Sometimes I just keep drinking due to my lack of judgment. Drinking tends to loosen me up a bit in that regard.

But with the grass it wasn’t the same for me. There were times where I would inhale way too much, and then when I would have a coughing fit is when I knew I was in for it. And smoking to me is like lining up a lot of shots and downing them all at once. At first you don’t really feel it. You feel the early effects. But then WAM it hits you like a wall of bricks and you’re reeling…

I will never forget the one time I had a huge freak out where I thought the lights were changing colors, my feed were bleeding and I was just seeing certain frames of my vision. Like my eyes were taking Polaroid pictures of what they saw, they would print up, and I would see what my eyes were looking at just a split second ago. I freaked out so hard that I was doing pushups to try and focus my mind – trying my best to fight what was happening. After that I basically promised myself that I would never do that much again. Also, I used to lose a lot of feeling in my legs. When driving, I couldn’t feel if my feet my were on the peddles or not, and at night I wouldn’t be able to sleep because I couldn’t feel my legs either (I would get scared and touch them with my hands just to make sure they were there).

Has this become a bitch fest about what sucks about smoking? I guess. Anyway, I used to hate how normal things I would do would now hurt so bad. Almost everything was intensified when I was smoking. When I would itch my eye or my scalp or my arm…or anything, it felt like I was tearing the skin off of myself. If I banged my knee or my shin in to something that stinging pain just wouldn’t go away.

The last time I smoked was for an un-retirement party that I was part of 2 years ago. 2 whole freaking years. Last night was my first time in 2 years.

And it was good. It was controlled. I didn’t have so much that I was gone. Because I was cautious about getting to that point again.

Instead of bitching about the freak outs that I had, I’d like to talk about some of the great things about smoking:

-For those of you that took physics: For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Remember right? The first thing I tend to notice when I’ve smoked is that it literally feels like the World, the Earth is pushing up on me. Like for some reason I am no longer exerting as much force on the world as I was when I was sober. The ground is now working with me and pushing me up every step I take. It’s really quite a great feeling.

-Random thoughts I would’ve never thought of pop in to my head. And they are hilarious. I’ll always remember one night in college where I was on the ground crying from laughter as me and my roommate thought about how crazy the first guy to drink milk from a cow was. I mean c’mon…who would’ve thought! Of course now drinking milk is all the rage (heh) but think of the first guy who was under that first cow! What was he doing there! And how did the cow feel about it? Anyway, after smoking I can just sit there on my own and laugh at my own thoughts. And sometimes when I’m with a group of people, we can just be laughing – while every one may be laughing at their own thoughts…and not necessarily what the group is talking about. I wrote that sentence as if I had been smoking tonight. I haven’t been.

-I don’t get sick. When I smoke I don’t hear my heartbeat in my head. I’m not getting naked in my kitchen and leaning up against my fridge because I’m so hot and I want the room to stop spinning. I have only puked once after smoking, and you guessed it, it’s because I was drinking after smoking.

-Music and visual media are amazing. When I first got in to smoking (thank you friends) I also became a huge fan of BT or Brian Transeau: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brian_Transeau There is something that happens to me that I believe heightens the ability of my ears when I’ve been smoking. Like my mind almost focuses more on things happening in the backgrounds of the music I am listening to. Even though I can’t do magic eye, I’m comparing my listening experience to that. When I’m sober, it’s like I’m listening to music and not being able to see the shape or pattern in that magic eye. But after smoking it’s like everything has become clear to me. And the music is so much more enjoyable then. I remember always asking people if they were hearing the same things I was…Last night I was listening to Oscar Peterson’s “So Diana”. The piano part comping in the background of that song wasn’t much to me before last night. I mean, it was pretty good. But last night – and this is what makes the genius of Jazz – you could hear the intricacies of the live recording. Each section of 16 bars was a little bit different than the previous one. And I caught things like the pianist signaling that the sax solo was over by comping a few completely different chords for the change. Then there was the drummer that was telling the rest of the band that it was time to head back to the chorus with a triplet strike on the toms. Notice: I have listened to this song at least 20 times, and last night was the first time I recognized any of these things. Of course from now on, I’ll have a much greater respect for the musicians and more enjoyment for the song.

-I get lost and end up laughing at myself. Last night it took me 30 minutes to take out the trash when it usually takes me 10. Only because I got lost in my own house and continually kept forgetting where I was going or what I was doing. All I could do was stand in the kitchen and chuckle to myself about how much of an idiot I was being. In college it once took us 45 minutes to drive to the local taco bell (8 minutes away) only because we got lots. Speaking of which…

-Food tastes better. This happens when I’ve been drinking also though. Maybe I just love food period. Enough said.

So I think if I can figure out a way to better control my reaction to this, and not be so scared of it, I’ll consider it more in the future. As I was telling people last night, I just wish there was a way I could grow my own. Because I can trust myself. I like to know what goes in to what’s getting put in my lungs. And to those of you out there who haven’t tried it (like the 5 of you) go ahead and give it a shot at least once. I promise it won’t kill you, and your parents won’t be the youngest grandparents in the neighborhood nor will you get an STD. Unless you’re a complete idiot.

The Craziest January Ever (aka Rando notes)

I guess I should’ve known when my drunk uncle fell down in his own kitchen. Right in to me, seated at his kitchen table.

I should’ve known that would’ve sparked it. New year’s day. Puking for over an hour at 4 am. Why couldn’t I have predicted all of this? I guess that’s what makes it fun? At the least, I’ve woke up every day since the new year trying to make sense of the partial mess my life has become.

Well, maybe not mess. But more like messy. (Pronounced Mess-E for effect).

So I think I can say with all confidence, 2 hours left, that at the age of 25, I hope I don’t see a January like this again. Or if I do, I just hope I’m better prepared next time.

Where to start…

We’ll get the business out of the way first. I ended the year, December 31^st, 2007 trading up 25%. Not too shabby. Not spectacular, but still good enough for my first 6 months of real trading. I keep crossing my fingers that this isn’t dumb luck.

Little was I to know that through 30 days of January, we would see the largest fall in the stock market in January ever. On December 31^st, the Dow was at 13,200. Mid day on January 22^nd, the market hit an intraday low of what I remember seeing of 11,400. That’s a swing of more than 13%...which is A LOT for the Dow in any direction. Luckily the Fed saved us with an emergency rate cut of .75% and then another cut yesterday of .5%. Well, maybe they didn’t save us. But whatever. We’ll only be able to tell when we look back on this time. The market narrowly avoided the worst January ever today by 1.6%. We had to rally a good 200 points in the Dow to make it there too.

And through all of that, all I lost was 4%. It took a lot of guts on my part. On the 22^nd of January I woke up knowing the market was going to be bad. Overnight there was news that had come out about a French trader who had hacked the trading system and had covered up over $7 billion dollars in losses. That was more than the revenue the French bank that he “worked” for earned in 2007. All gone. Along with the fears of recession in the U.S. economy, the global markets fell an average of 5%. I woke up, turned on CNBC, and saw that we were down 500 points in the Dow pre-open. Since I’ve been watching the market (for the past 10 years now – more seriously over the past 3) I have never seen a move to one side – down or up of 500 points.

I thought that was it. I thought we were done for. I thought that not only was recession upon us (which it already is) but depression was coming too. I had images of bankruptcy and eating chicken broth from a crusty pot in some homeless tent camp after the markets had lost over half it’s value in one week…luckily that was just me daydreaming while I was sipping my morning OJ and texting my friends about how I was losing my fucking mind about it.

I like to think back to the days before I was trading. Where I didn’t really care what the price of a barrel of crude oil was, or an ounce of gold, or the federal funds rate or what the 10 year note was yielding. But then I like to think of how many options I watched move at least 100% in less than a day. How many options I watched move 500% in a couple days. And how many options I watched move 1000% to 9400% over a week. And I start to think that one of these days I’m going to catch one of those. And I can’t sleep thinking about it. 9400% X $10,000 invested is almost a million dollars. Of course I’m not going to catch that kind of move. But I honestly think a 1000% move is feasible. I just saw one today in the AMZN $75 call option February expiration. That’s right. $10,000 invested in ZQNBO at 6:30 am PST this morning, at $.50 and selling at $5.70 at 1 pm PST would’ve made you (me) a profit $104,000. Today. Less than 8 hours. And sure, I know, there are plenty of people that make that money on interest in their sleep (or more). But I’m not one of them. Yet.

For some reason I have this crazy confidence that I’m going to catch one and hit it out of the park. Call me crazy. I can’t wait for that party I throw when I do catch one though. If you are reading this right now you’re auto invited. I’ll buy the plane ticket for those of you outside of the state.

Ok, enough market talk. That could go on forever.

My mom turned 50 years old on the 25^th of this month. The big five-oh. Just thinking about how many things have changed in my life, I can’t imagine what seeing double that would be like. My mom has lived an awesome and respectable life. I am so lucky to have her as my mother. Hopefully one day I can show her how grateful I am for everything that she’s done for me.

We’ve been trying to plan a party for her. And it doesn’t help that my dad is with her in Hawaii (lucky dogs – they go every year). Trying to plan it without him isn’t of much help because we’re fronting most of the costs right now. We’ve been trying to find a place to host at least 80 people – which has been a struggle. Trying to print invitations. Trying to figure out food and entertainment…but…

THE PARTY IS NEXT WEEKEND.

So we’ve kind of procrastinated about it over the past 2 weeks (seeing as how we’ve barely had time to celebrate our own lives) and now we’re paying for it. If we pull this off successfully it will be a small miracle. Pray for me that nothing goes wrong (I’m putting the probability at 30% right now – I hope it declines the closer the party gets).

Of course I want every thing to be perfect. My mom deserves to be showered in love and happiness from all her close friends and family.

So while trying to plan that party, we’ve also been working on trying to plan a little poker party get together at our house TOMORROW. It’s not that big of a deal – definitely no renting of venues, plates, chairs or looking in to catering like my mom’s party…but it’s still an extra thing to plan for. Had to go out and buy food for the party and of course good poker chips (because it’s always “only the best” for me). Provide directions to patrons and coordinate times…and of course it’s going to require cleaning on February 1^st…which I am not looking forward to.

Side note: Everett Mall is freaking ghetto. This is where I bought my poker chips. Literally if you go there, you feel depressed just walking through. If you own a business there, how do you stay afloat? I really hope they remodel it like they did with Alderwood. The place needs a big shot of collagen or botox or something…complete makeover.

On top of the two party plans I had going on, I threw on the planning of a 2 week expedition to Europe in May. Really, the hard part was being a cheap ass and applying to 3 different credit card companies for a 0% rate interest card (can you tell how cheap I am yet?). I had to purchase my tour by today in order to receive an early bird discount (and hopefully get my flight cheap). Luckily, my 0% interest credit card came in the mail yesterday after haggling and begging with the credit companies to offer me up some free money. So it’s settled. And I’m more than 3 grand in the hole for the trip of a lifetime. Let’s hope I make it to my 26^th birthday and beyond! After this I only plan on going to Vancouver (the northern one) and Oregon (the other way) for vacation for a few years. It’ll probably be all I can afford. As of today I count 101 days until I am on a plane bound for London. That looks really weird to read…I have never been away from Bothell, let alone outside of North America for more than 10 days. This should be interesting.

We got stupid snow in January. Stupid snow is where it snows just enough to make the roads icy but not enough to make me stay home. That seems to be the theme here lately with the snow. “Here’s a piddly amount just to annoy you!” Seriously? Can’t we get a foot or more around here? Something I actually wouldn’t feel stupid playing in as an adult? Thanks God. And to all you weaklings that stayed home: Good for you, your $100-$250/day job isn’t worth you crashing your 3 series.

So as a side job (and for fun) I’m a secret shopper. Maybe this requires it’s own post? Anyway, I did two secret shops this month (that’s a lot for me, I usually do a shop every 3 months). One for Centex homebuilders (which was pretty interesting) and another for Garlic Jim’s. I love getting paid to give my opinion. And free pizza is always nice too. There are no complaints about the secret shopping, just another added item to the crazy January.

My Boeing basketball team is still undefeated – but we’re going to be missing our best players for next week so that should be some trying times. My flag football team is still defeated (read closely – all losses), but we had a “moral” victory last week when we only lost by 1 point on the final play. Heartbreaking. Oh which reminds me, out of nowhere last Saturday night my upper back started hurting pretty bad. And it hurt for about 4-5 days. I didn’t do anything to aggravate it. Maybe it was just the stress from this month? Possibly.

Lastly, on that Saturday we went to see a few comedians perform at the Laugh Comedy Spot in Kirkland. It was a “Girls night out and bring your husbands too” for one of my wife’s coworkers. Anyway, the comedians were pretty good. But here’s the great part about the night: Supposedly the comedians that night were billed as “clean comedians”. So of course you had a bit of the older, (and easily offended) crowd that showed up that night. And obviously they got nothing but dirty jokes! One angry crowd member was heard yelling, “When’s your flight home?” and when another angry guy had his wife pleading with him not to say anything we heard “No I will not stop! This is terrible!”

You can only imagine the kind of laughs I got not only from the comedians being funny (and PG-13 offensive) but from seeing the reaction of the poor souls who were in for some very G rated jokes. Talk about a crazy January…It’s almost sad to see it end.

It Never Stops

“Well I can’t see the end of it! I can’t!”

My wife screamed at me.

Maybe because there won’t ever be an end to it.

Ah, the later part of January. I was surprised at the good mood I was in after waking up this morning and seeing that the Dow had broken below crashing levels, minus 500 points pre-open.

It was turning out to be another sunny day, and I had eked out some minor gains, mainly because I hadn’t invested much. That was good enough for the day and I sat back and watched…well not really watched. I was busy at work. And it’s been taking up a lot more of my time so now I’m actually focusing on just that: Working. That’s what they pay me for.

And even still, busy, knowing the economy is collapsing around me; I put on a happy face and was able to laugh with coworkers and friends.

But it caught up to me. Every year my friends and I notice around this time that the “most depressing day of the year” passes us by and all of us are hit with at least a twinge of it. Mine hit tonight.

Sitting on the couch tonight we got in to the discussion of our finances.

And right now, all that’s playing in my head is from Kanye West’s “Can’t Tell Me Nothing” – La laaa la la wait ‘til I get my money right.

We’re making enough to live comfortably. We’re making enough to afford the things we want. But it won’t be enough for me. I wonder if it will ever be enough. Because the spending will never stop, and I feel like the more we make the more we’ll continue to adjust our spending habits upwards.

That’s where the screaming came from. Next month we clear ourselves of all the excess debt we racked up in remodeling an investment property. Unfortunately in less than a year’s time the market has kind of turned against us, and even up here in the “strong Northwest real estate market” comparable housing isn’t selling for what it used to be. I would literally be happy to get out of our condo at a loss at this point – but not too much. We took a risk on a property and we might lose. Luckily as long as we keep renters in the property we will continue to break even…but that’s as long as we keep renters…

I could see the housing bubble bursting after my wife sold her condo in 2005, but I just figured that we were buying at such low levels and next to such an attractive area that the risks weren’t too great. I’m just going to keep crossing my fingers on that one, and I’m sure you’ll hear more on it over the next few years.

With the debt gone unfortunately we ran in to some car trouble and replaced the investment property debt with car debt. (Notice how I wrote a post about how happy I was about the car? Novelty wears off when you stare at a bill for long enough) Debt that will last us 2 years longer than the condo did. And I want to go on vacation to Europe. And we want to go on vacation together. And I want a motorcycle. And I’d like to go back to Vegas next year for the first time in 3 years. And I want…and so it continues to get piled on. Cringing at applying through different banks for the next 0% interest credit card just so I can save $500 throughout the next 12 billing cycles. Calculating in my head how much interest I’d pay on the home equity line of credit if I were to just take the money from there.

It’s like this constant grey cloud that follows me wherever I go.

I’m going to admit it right now. We bought too big of a house for ourselves. Financial “gurus” suggest that at a maximum your mortgage/living costs should not exceed 40% of your monthly household take home. Ours is currently at 60%. Our financial situation is so fragile that we are literally teetering on the edge. Luckily the furthest we could fall would be to move in with our parents, so we have that safety net there. I wouldn’t want all the shame associated with doing so that would come with it however. Just thinking about that phone call, or possibly that knock on the door that says, “We bit off too big of a piece and now we’re choking. Do you know the Heimlich mom?” makes me want to push so hard so I never get to that point. But it’s basically as easy as the words, “We’ll be outsourcing your position” or even, “You’re fired”.

With a 60% cost of living, that means that at any time if either one of us lost our jobs we would be hemorrhaging money until that person was able to find a job. Yes. I do have a good enough amount saved up in my retirement accounts. Enough to actually continue living the way we are currently living without jobs for a full year. But it’s my retirement account for Christ sakes! Something I’ve worked almost 3 years now to build up! Of course, yes, I would squander it if I had to. But I don’t even want to think about that right now.

It’s never going to stop because after 2 years of living in this home, hardly anything has been paid off on the principal. Seriously, who takes the full 30 years to pay off their mortgage? I suppose people who expect to be working in the same position for the same pay for the next 30 years. It’s never going to stop because I have set a 15 year payment plan on our home equity line of credit. It’s never going to stop because I don’t expect my car to live for more than another 3 years and by that time we’ll have just finished paying off my wife’s car. It’s never going to stop because if I don’t find a job that’s willing to pay tuition reimbursement I’ll be financing my own master’s degree. It’s never going to stop because there will always be some new gadget, or new version of TV or must have product to showcase that I make enough money to afford this crap in the first place.

It’s debilitating. I sat there on the couch for a few minutes almost wishing I could take it all back.

Imagine what living in Fremont renting from my buddy’s parents as a single male earning my same wages would’ve provided me. Almost an extra two grand a month after living expenses, make that fifteen hundred since I’d want to pick up a nice car and I would’ve had close to $40K saved to my name after 3 years living the same way I was living in college (and keeping my current job). Not including what I had put away to my retirement accounts.

But how much would the possible loneliness cost me during those years? I spent 3 months basically living alone and they were some of the most challenging days of my life. As hard as I try, I am a social person so I like to be around other people as much as possible. I’m pretty sure it would be devastating for me to ever go back to that position again.

So for tomorrow I am going to try my best to keep my head up and focus on what is to come – the day that the grey cloud finally goes away. The worst I can do for myself is to continue wasting time dwelling on how things were, could’ve been, or how they should’ve turned out. Tomorrow has opportunity written all over it and although I doubt I’ll take full advantage of it, hopefully I’ll get another chance in the many days to follow. It’s super cheesy, but it’s the best I can do to try and talk myself out of giving up right now.

As Seen on TV

Something has come over me recently. Or maybe I’m just more in tune with my desires as a consumer.

And that is my sudden urge to buy most products from the “As Seen on TV” lineup and actually take them up on their 30 day money back guarantee. I know. It sounds crazy. And yes, of course I’m not fooled by the “Call in the next 30 minutes to receive a special discount!” offer (although I’m sure some people are). If it weren’t for the darn S & H (shipping and handling for you noobs) I would be on the phone more often. But wait! During a recent holiday stroll through the mall *barf* and a random jaunt to the neighborhood Bartells (family owned and operated), I found 1) A store dedicated to as seen on TV products – glad I didn’t slow my roll and 2) a portion of the “female hygiene” aisle – don’t ask me what I was doing there – dedicated to the “As Seen on TV” section.

No more S & H! This is not a verified claim though as I did not purchase any of these products. I am not sure as to whether or not the same offer as seen on TV of 2 easy payments of $19.95 would in fact be $39.90 when I brought it to the front counter at Bartell’s. Where the “manager” looked like he could’ve been a sophomore at Mt. Pilchuck. Cushy job for a 16 year old…

Anyway, I can attribute my recent longing for all things appearing on the tube to a few things:

-It being the winter months along with football season my greater intake of quality *cough* television programming.

-Side note (reality): The products are more widely displayed on more gender specific channels. Expect to see at least 15 of these commercials when you’re watching Candace Cameron in a Lifetime Original movie about domestic violence. As much as I hate to admit it, I find many of these originals eerily entertaining. Is it possible I was meant to be a stay at home mom? That’s another blog post.

-Having more money and time than I know what to do with. What’s an extra $50 to $100 to spend when I’ll get my money’s worth after 5 to 10 uses?

Here’s the thing about these products: They claim to do things better than what you had previously. But were you doing those things that these products claim to help you do better anyway? (Confusing sentence, I know). Probably not. More than likely these products will get used for 3 months and forgotten about and regretted like the typical new year’s resolution.

So without further copyright and/or licensing rights, I will break down the awesome to the completely worthless.

First off – and the winner in my opinion is the Ove Glove.

http://www.asseenontv.com/prod-pages/ove_glove.html

(I don’t know if they realized that the words “as and “seen” when placed together make “ass” – WTG 3^rd grade)

That isn’t exactly the one that we have. It was a gift to us from my wife’s parents for Christmas last year. Hah! I still haven’t bought an “As Seen on TV” product. Our Ove Glove has these rubber blue lines down it, which I think add greater protection. I’ve used ours now for over a year and I definitely like it better than an oven mitt. The Ove Glove, it being a glove, gives you more flexibility. Instead of just holding things with your thumb and attached…uhhh…large part of the mitt, you now get to use all 5 fingers! What a concept! No burns on me since I got the Ove Glove! But then again, there weren’t many cooking burns before then either. I’ve seen in the commercials where the glove was lit on fire, and the hand didn’t look in pain whatsoever! (But they didn’t show the hand owner’s face though…)

But was it really worth it though? Ah – the standard “As Seen on TV” realization. The Ove Glove costs about $7-10 more than the average oven mitt…and the reason why it’s first for me (other than owning it) is because I think the added utility is worth the price. After a year ours is littered with pizza stains and grease though…I guess we should have scotchguarded it? Maybe for the next Ove Glove we buy.

Next up is a couple fitness items.

The perfect pushup

http://www.perfectpushup.com/

And the bender ball

http://www.benderball.com/

I honestly think if I bought these two products, I would end up with some ripped arms and pecs and the stomach I’ve always dreamed of! In all seriousness though for at least 3 months I would do more pushups and sit ups using these products. I mean I only really do weights and core work about 2 times or less per week. So maybe for those 3 months I might start seeing results? I don’t know. Guilt might be a big enough factor in making me work out – which makes me wonder if switching to a cheaper gym was such a good idea. You can’t beat 408% more effective though! I mean when these commercials put numbers backed up by some scientists from a college I’ve heard of before, it becomes pretty convincing. And as I mentioned before, with the money back guarantee, it wouldn’t hurt to take a test drive right? Probably wrong.

And for all of us green thumbs out there:

My wife wants this product because she likes to grow herbs and put them in our meals:

http://www.aerogrow.com/

I want it so I can grow pot…

And sell it to hospitals that use it for medicinal purposes of course.

Imagine the smell in the house though! Stank!

Sometimes I dream of traveling the country by hopping trains. Not really though. But if I ever did I swear I could sleep anywhere with a flat surface as long as I had this:

http://www.asseenontv.com/prod-pages/contourleg.html

I always sleep on my sides. And when I do, I need something between my knees. It’s just more comfortable. Without 1 pillow, it’s tough. Because I use one hand for my head and one hand to go between the knees. Unfortunately one hand isn’t enough for both spots. (TMI possibly?) This product also looks hardy enough that would withstand many miles of harsh terrain and sub zero weather. Not like I would though.

I always laugh when I hear people talking about this product:

http://www.buythebullet.com/

Because I think of another “magic bullet”. I don’t really want this, but my brother in law won one in some college contest and he and his roommates swear by it. If it’s good enough for them, meh.

Some other honorable mentions include the “Mighty Putty”, the natural breast enhancer (mainly because that commercial is so awesome!), and of course the standard remote control boat/car/plane that can go on land, water and fly up in to the air! Definitely all guilty pleasures that I’m not able to have...right now.

And finally, what you’ve all been waiting for, the idiotic list.

Really there’s only a couple that belong here. And I’m sure they’re pretty good products for people who need them. And surprisingly they have to do with basically the same thing: Old people and hearing.

First off is the “Listen Up”:

http://www.asseenontv.com/prod-pages/listen402.html?gid=

Now I’m sure in 10 years when my ears are completely shot, I’ll need this. But let’s keep the old folks in the homes and not on TV ok? Remember, the age group that actually buys things is where I’m at. The 18 to 40 year olds. Not the AARP group because they can’t even hear the darn commercial anyway! The main part that bothers me about this commercial is they show younger people using it. Which we would never do. A guy is running on a treadmill at the gym and he looks at two attractive women talking and looking in his direction. Supposedly using this product he can hear what they are saying! Which in the commercial they are giggling like school girls about how cute he is. Possible? I think not! (But do not have the product so I can’t verify – but that guy is definitely not cute). At the least they are not saying how hot he looks, but more than likely what a creep he is for staring at them. Pervs belong in prison. Not the gym.

And yet another one for the “forgetful mother” or “Uncle Phil with dementia”, the “My Lil Reminder”:

http://www.asseenontv.com/prod-pages/mylilreminder.html?gid=

Record notes to yourself so that you can hear what an idiot you are 20 minutes from now! The part that pisses me off in this commercial is the woman looking in her fridge and telling herself what she needs at the grocery store. “Let’s see, juice, lettuce and eggs”. Just the way she says eggs and then how they immediately show her at the grocery store playing the recording to herself makes me want to kick her in the neck. Seriously lady, if you forgot how to write a grocery list maybe you do need this product. Oh and the best part about the “My Lil’ Reminder”? Is that for the price of one, you get TWO! (Standard with most of these products – always ask for at least two if you’re going to actually buy one). I always laugh while watching this commercial (the eye of the tornado that is my rage while watching it) imagining crazy Uncle Phil who records where he left one of the recorders, only to find it and record where he left the other recorder. Uncle Phil gets plenty of steps in on his pedometer (because his heart doctor said so!) losing these fun little glorified voice recorders! I should seriously contemplate advertising for this product…

I am thinking the inventor of these previous products hasn’t quit their day job.

And last off, to end it all…is probably the worst one out of them all. Literally, I have to change the channel now (God forbid – side note, my grandpa used to turn off the TV during commercials – WTG gramps!) anytime this commercial comes on, and it’s the stupid Proactive commercials. Partly because Jessica Simpson’s career is just done (I hope they catch her dad on “How to catch a predator”) but mainly because of the stupid piano theme song running in the background.

Seriously, Bruce Hornsby, if you or someone you know is reading this right now, stand up for yourself! They sampled (ripped off) the main piano part of your song, “The Way It Is” (one of my favorite social commentary songs ever!). Sue them! Get your hard earned money! You wrote that hook and you deserve at least $.25 every time they play that damn commercial. And at the least it would make me feel better about that commercial and maybe they’ll change the background song if they have to pay royalties!

For those of you who couldn’t make it this far…

CLIFF NOTES: I watch too much TV. I am a sucker for commercials. Some “As Seen on TV” products are awesome but I don’t buy them. I’d recommend not being a sucker for them either. Ask yourself this, “How did I live so many years without X product?” and you’ll have your answer. Sue those bastards in to the poor house Bruce!

The Obligatory New Year’s Post

I had to do it.

Just as I’m sure bloggers across the World had to do it too.

First off: I am a failure and didn’t complete one of my new year’s resolutions from 2007. I am too lazy to go look up the link for it and say go here where you can just click on the word “here” and then go and read about it. So for those of you who are willing to make the extra 4-5 clicks it’ll take to get there, by all means do so. I write my blog posts in word so it takes almost 5 times the amount of energy to provide you with that kind of hyperlink than it does for you to just go look for it. Almost about as much energy as writing this whole paragraph. And I even went to go find my new year’s resolution post from 2007 and it’s in a mix of two different posts. So well done me.

Anyway, I think (since it was over a year ago now) that my resolutions from last year were to a) finally dunk consistently and b) run my first marathon. At the time when I was writing those things, I was running on a schedule. And playing basketball a lot. I am still playing basketball as much as I was last year but I have stopped running 3-4 days a week. Now it’s more like once to twice a week. And sometimes instead of running I’ll use something with a lot less impact at the gym. I got shin splints in March of this past year and finally gave up around August. That’s how long I let the pain bother me.

By the way, yes these are all excuses as to why I didn’t complete my goals. I could’ve easily done the Seattle marathon but I would’ve put up a 5 hour time which not only would’ve been embarrassing (for me), it also would’ve been 5 hours of pain.

Dunking is another story. I do some leg work at the gym and really that’s about all the effort I put into it. For me, it’s once again embarrassing that I can’t dunk. There are plenty of guys out there who are shorter than me (or even my height) who can dunk. I suppose this will be an annual goal to finally get off my ass and get that extra 3-4” in my vert. I’d literally bet against myself that I could do it this year. (And of course now I will).

So put me in with the rest of the crowd who didn’t accomplish resolutions they resolved to do. At the least I am admitting failure – but honestly I’m just shrugging them off at this point. I’m sure I’ll get in a marathon (under 4 hours 30 minutes) sometime before I’m 40 (if I live that long), and honestly it’s probably too late for the dunking thing...stupid aging.

Things in 2007 that happened that I never would’ve expected I would do this past year:

-Took a chance, started investing with DEBT (capitalized for effect) and didn’t put myself in to more DEBT. A pretty big feat considering how the stock market did from July 2007 onwards.

-Took over my parent’s retirement accounts after my new found confidence in investing skills. Who knew I had such a passion for money? *He chuckles*

-Made new/more friends. I literally said to one guy, “I’m not accepting friend applications right now”. And he was genuinely angry about it (what a homer). Really though, I’ve created myself at least 3 more groups of drinking pals though. And that can’t be good for me, my liver and one of my resolutions this year. Not only has my list of contacts grown on my cell phone, I’ve also reconnected with a lot of old friends.

-Won a championship basketball game, and hit a buzzer beater to cap the whole thing off. Played tackle football on a normal basis and didn’t get hurt once (really amazing). For years I had sworn off tackle football, but this past year I got back on the horse. And it’s better than touch football – with flag being the best out of all three.

-Ran in the Fraternity Snoqualmie’s Bare Buns Fun Run. My first sanctioned (not sure by who) streaking event. Got 3^rd place! I’d like to try it out again…

-Saw more of the country by traveling to visit my cousins in Washington DC and New York City. They were both better than I had imagined. I have a new found respect and love for the East Coast. Can’t wait to go back!

-Didn’t go to Vegas once! This seems kind of odd, but being there 9 times over 3 years was a bit much for me. I promised myself I wouldn’t go back until 2009…but I’ve been itching to go all year. We’ll see if I can hold through this year (you’ll probably see me celebrating the new year in Vegas).

I’ve thought of a few other things I could put here, but they seem smaller and more insignificant than what I’ve already written.

Now, to look towards the future.

I’m pretty unsure about my 2008 resolutions. In a drunken stupor at the New Year’s party I was at, I sat down to eat some cake (which is what put me over the edge – never drink a lot then eat cake) and decided that this was going to be my year. History (or my memory?) may have fooled me, but good things…really good things tend to happen to me in the even years. 1998, 2000, and 2004 are some of the best years I can think of in recent history (in my life). So why not 2008?

This will be the “Year of Seth”. But after thinking about that – and saying it out loud to a few people it became somewhat ominous…in that really bad things could happen to me too…I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see.

In 2008 I resolve to:

-Get back what drinking lost me (and not my virginity): My defined abs. Back when I was a young buck of 18-19 I could clearly see lines in my stomach. By 21 I knew my life was over when I took off my shirt in front of someone and they announced that they were, “hoping for better”. I guess, at the least I’ve hid my beer belly somewhat well. And even though people would say, “Oh Seth, you’re not fat”. Of course I’m not fat! But I could be better. Having a better core makes for a better everything. Can I think of a con to having a tighter waistline? Other than having to bring my belt in another notch, I can’t. So abs, you’re slimming down. You’ve enjoyed your run at the top (literally) for long enough.

-Start prepping for my masters and start my master’s (of business administration I think) education in fall of 2008. The plan was to go back to school from the time I was 26 and graduate by 28. Here it is, in 3 and a half months I turn 26 (I survived? 25 isn’t over yet). My parents said they would pay since I covered a majority of my undergrad (unlike some people I know) and I’m even hoping that they won’t have to help out that much. I feel like I’ve lost a lot of that hunger for knowledge that being in school gave me. And the extra perks to having a master’s degree when I get out won’t hurt either. (Hooray self-validation!)

Those are big enough goals and manageable too. I have other things I want to accomplish that might be nice to complete but not consider them “new year’s resolutions” – as in not as big of a deal if I don’t get them all:

-Run a marathon (back on the block again)

-Make at least 35% returns on the market in 2008 (already starting out poorly)

-Make more “to-do” lists and get things done instead of constantly trying to remind myself to do certain smaller tasks.

-Don’t whine/complain as much. Be nice and compliment more.

-Be more driven at work to climb the corporate ladder – or look for other advancement opportunities…anywhere. I’ve been very content in my current position while others are constantly trying to get ahead.

-Try my best not to go to Vegas (like I said, no promises!)

-Don’t drink so much that I vomit (happened way too often in 2007)

-Go get a pedicure

I know that last one seems silly – but it’s just too unlike me.

2 days down, 354 to go. 2008 be kind.

The Bottom Rung Dbag

From trading and poker I create a lot of hatred for myself. It’s obvious to most people that it’s not very healthy – but being in both realms for long enough you learn that it’s part of the game(s) and you deal.

And since I’ve never done something like this, I decided to include it on here. Just in case people were thinking I thought a little too highly of myself. Also because I know all of us have at least a little bit of hate for ourselves – some of us just aren’t willing to readily admit it (or write it out).

I really like the term “douchebag”. The reason I like it is because I feel that it’s got more of a male connotation to it and also it can be applied to all types of men. It’s not like “prick” which also IMO has a male connotation associated with it – but is typically reserved for the wealthy/arrogant.

A doucebag can be your local grocery store’s bag boy or even as high up as the grocer’s CEO. A douchebag can be your best friend or your most hated rival. The douchebag can be any size, shape, color and background. Really, if you look around you, I’m sure you’ll find a few good candidates that would love to come live with me in Douchebekistan.

A dbag can usually be spotted from some distance. This is because their attire and overall appearance just screams something at you. From what I’ve found it’s either “trying too hard” or “didn’t even try”. I don’t belong in the “trying too hard” category, but you can see those types flaunting brand names on their clothing and spending hundreds of dollars on multiple pairs of shoes like they were women. I’m just going to say that a dbag on that end of the spectrum goes tanning, gets their eyebrows plucked (when they don’t even need it), and speaks freely of the nail and hair salon they go to with other dbags. (Which is probably where they met in the first place). If you are paying any more than $30 for your haircut (like $100 or more) you’re probably going to fit in to this category. You’re a top rung dbag – you’re spending way too much for your douchebaginess.

On the flip side you have someone like me. On a regular basis people will ask me if I just woke up. Yes. I did. And unfortunately the look I had when I rolled out of bed is the same one I have right now. Because of my laziness (very douche like – I’ll get to that later) and partly due to my early morning shift, I take my showers at night. The problem with this is that when I wake up in the mornings, my hair is stuck in the position in which it laid for the past 7 hours. Patches of hair are matted completely against my head where other strands look like they’re trying to flee my scalp. It also doesn’t help that I have roughly 5 cowlicks on my head too.

I also rarely buy myself new clothes. Nor do I like to go to the dry cleaners more than once every 3 months. For those reasons you’ll typically see me at work in khakis I’ve worn 3 days in a row, in an un-tucked polo shirt both wrinkled and stained. I always question if my coworkers wonder to themselves if I own more than 2 pairs of dress pants. Really, I do. But it’s khakis for 2 days straight, then maybe my black pants for 2 days straight, then maybe the chinos to finish the week off. Also, for some reason over the past year or so I’ve been in between belt sizes. Which means that if I tighten my belt it makes me uncomfortable, but keeping the belt loose means I’m constantly sagging my business casual and trying my best to pull them up around my non existent ass and hips.

Did I mention I also don’t own a pair of brown dress shoes I can wear? Yeah, I’ve owned the same pair of brown rockports (which my mom bought for me) since my sophomore year in high school nine years ago. Since my mom mentioned how terrible they look (all scuffed up) and how they were actually hurting me (soles were worn down to nothing) I had to finally retire them this year. So guess what I wear instead of those brown shoes now with my khakis and chinos? My running shoes. Yes. And nike socks to boot. Everyday I get looks from the managers on my floor – looking directly at my feet - probably annoyed that I’m defying the dress code by wearing my tenny runners with my un-tucked shirt. I am. I could nut up and just buy another pair of brown dress shoes, but I haven’t – since no one has pulled me aside and reminded me of the dress code yet. If I wrote a dictionary this last paragraph would be under the “extra definitions” section for the word “Douchebag”.

Throw that all in together with my wrinkled, dry skin, big lips/ears and flat nose along with the fact that I tend to smell “like the outside” (I’ve been told) and you’ve got a real winner. I seriously look like a disgrace to myself and people are probably embarrassed to be seen with me. I pulled the total dbag move by not caring about my appearance anymore after I got married. Part of me has just figured that there was no point since I wasn’t trying to attract anyone anyway. Actually, I take that back – looking like a dbag really has nothing to do with my married status. The look has stuck with me since junior high I think.

Along with general appearance, being a douchebag requires a certain mentality. Typically that mentality roots in a holier than thou position. Whether it be total hippy style and trying to save the Earth as best as possible and making sure everyone else does too – or being overly religious, pompous, boring, vegan, political or any other sort of thing that can get shoved down another person’s throat – that’s a run-on sentence douchebaggery.

I like to compare myself to others in my age group. There are certain areas where I feel like I am above the average for my peers. But does it give me any right to put them down, put them in their place and walk all over them? No. And yet I’ve got this air about me that screams “I’m so much better than you”. I can’t seem to shake it so I’ve decided to live with it. I swear if I tried to change people would just peg me back to how I am now. Humility just doesn’t work for me – but believe me, I know I’m not great at anything. Does that mean I think that people who are the best or at least in the top percentile of a certain category have the right to look down upon the rest of us? Sure. It’s only fair since I (and others in my position) do it too.

The dbag train of thought means thinking that you are an individual. That in someway you are special and significant in this world. That you’ve had different thoughts and have experienced so many other things that people before you or those around you haven’t. Sometimes I live my life like I am the star of my own movie. And to be that selfish and not allow other people the chance to maybe have the lead role in even one of the scenes is just plain douchebaggedy. The act of trying to be the center of attention is a definite douche act.

While writing up this post I was thinking to myself, “What would I consider someone who was not a douchebag like?” And honestly, I couldn’t come up with an answer. Thinking about it, it’s possible we’ve all got a little bit to hate about each other. Wow – that’s such a nice thought.

To close, I’d like to leave you with this link:

http://www.encyclopediadramatica.com/Douche

The Monkey Off My Back

I wasn’t sure how to feel. I mean, it was weird.

Finally, a championship win. And in what ridiculous fashion.

I was trying to think back to the last time I won a championship in an organized sport. And the last time I can remember winning one was for the NYBA. And it wasn’t even really a championship because the first place team (us) just played the second place team in a one game playoff.

Since then I’ve been in a complete drought. 8 years and no rain. No glory.

I was on some good teams. Basketball, football. All solid teams. All good players. And still when it came down to it, we became choke artists. No one ever wanted to take over and pull through at the end.

To this day, even tonight, after what happened last night, I still get shivers about “the play” in football.

Flag football. Intramural Men’s league. Probably the most fun and yet most intense sport I have ever played. On 4^th and ridiculously long we are down by 4. A touchdown would win the game. Rain coming down, mid 30 degrees, fans yelling from the sideline. I’ll always remember the scene. We had to get the ball in to the end zone. The QB was scrambling chased by 2 guys. Somehow the ball is up. The ball is coming to me. I am double covered, but the ball somehow makes it through a few defenders hands without getting knocked down.

It’s tipped by one of the hands though. And the ball spins just enough and there’s just enough rain in my eyes for me to take it off of the ball for that one second. The ball slips right through my fingers and to the ground. My one chance to play under the lights of Husky stadium for the flag football intramural championship. Gone like that.

Other losses have been less intense and less painful than that one. Last season in the Boeing basketball league we were undefeated. Up until the championship game where it all fell apart. 14 straight wins to lose the only one that counts. In other leagues I’m not so lucky.

For softball we didn’t even make the playoffs. In fact, we lost a tiebreaker to another team…just as our team was starting to get hot. The other basketball league I play in we haven’t made the playoffs for 2 seasons running.

So you start to question your ability after awhile. You think maybe you are the reason your teams are losing. Or maybe the people you choose as teammates. Or maybe the refs. You start to place blame, and the ghosts of previous losses come to haunt you. I always have to humble myself and remember that for every winner, there is a loser. Try as I might, I can’t win them all.

This basketball season for the Boeing league had all the makings of another loss in the championship.

We played our best basketball the first few games of the season. And then after that things just went down the drain. Sure, we pulled out victories, but they were ugly. Terrible shooting, turnovers, no defense and laughable amount of second chance points allowed for the other teams.

Making it to the championship game was a miracle in itself. If we hadn’t hit a last second shot in the semi-final game we wouldn’t have even been playing in that game last night.

The game was a struggle from the beginning. The refs were calling everything tight, and we were in double bonus already with more than half of the second quarter remaining. I was on the bench longer than usual this game because I got a quick 3 fouls in the first half and then proceeded to get my 4^th foul early in the 2^nd half.

The score was tied at half, and emotions were being worn on the sleeves as technicals and double fouls were being doled out by the refs. We knew in the 2^nd half we’d have to take over if we wanted to take the victory home. So we turned up the defensive pressure. We went man and pressed full court. Something that had worked in the last game we played. The opponents lost their composure and I could smell blood in the water.

Suddenly what had been a fierce struggle and a tie ball game had started to look like a blowout. We were up by 11 points 54 to 43 and cruising to the final minutes of the fourth quarter.

It was exactly at that point that a player can snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. We let up. We thought we had it in the bag. We stopped hustling. We kept trying to slam the door shut, hammer down the dagger – but it wouldn’t come. And by the time we panicked it was too late. We were only up by 4 points now and the other team was closing fast. You could feel the momentum building because they brought a large crowd – and it was the loudest I’ve ever heard that gym. The screams from opponent’s families and supporters was deafening and at the least had me scared.

A few missed calls by the zebras when we had the ball had our team frustrated and making stupid mistakes. Due to the terrible officiating, we had a few key players who had fouled out and no one willing to step up and be the answer. We watched the lead disintegrate. From 54 to 50. To 58 to 59. We were losing now. With 27 seconds left.

Everything was coming to me in waves. This is normal I thought to myself. It’s happening all over again. I’m letting this championship slip out of my hands. I could see the stress on one of my teammate’s face and I tried to reassure him but the voice I heard come out didn’t sound too confident.

We had fouled them in the back court and we got lucky. The person we fouled twice in a row (we were again in double bonus) missed his first 2 free throws in a row. We were again not able to convert on the offensive side and had to foul again – luckily the same player. Still down 59 to 58 he once again missed both free throws. On the 2^nd free throw up, I swore I had the jump on the person I was defending but he somehow grabbed the ball just as I was. And as he went up with the ball 2 of my teammates went in for the hack and luckily we prevented the foul and the score.

I looked up at the clock and it read 7.4 seconds left. Not enough time to really get a play off. We were yelling at each other, trying to will ourselves to grab a board, and to remember that we had a timeout just in case we needed it.

The guy had been solid at the line the entire game so I thought we were doomed. Sure enough he hit the first free throw. And at that point I had given up. In my mind, there was no way we were going to get down the court in 7 seconds for an open 3 pointer in order to even tie the game. And if we did tie the game we only had 5 guys available to play what would be an overtime game and a lot of us were in deep foul trouble.

Magically the 2^nd free throw came hard off the iron and one of my teammates grabbed it between two guys. 60 to 58 now. All we needed was a 2 pointer to tie, maybe the 3 to win? The rest of what happened is a complete blur to me. It was 7 seconds long, but it seemed much shorter than that:

My teammate who grabbed the board underhanded the ball to me between the outstretched arms of two defenders. I started to dribble out of the backcourt up the right sideline. I could hear teammates yelling my name down the court but I was only looking to get it up the court without turning it over. The defenders came and crowded me as I reached the half court line and the only face I could see was that of our center.

I passed the ball to him to get out of trouble, but he looked terrified and I knew he wasn’t going to be able to make the final shot from half court. I continued running past the half court line and I waved over to him and yelled his name for the ball back as the defenders who had tried to stop me had rushed to him.

I remember catching the ball, and I don’t even remember if I dribbled. I think I did, but viewer accounts say I didn’t dribble at all. I picked up the ball knowing there wasn’t much time left, I looked down court at the block and didn’t really have any other option – less than 2 seconds now and counting down – I threw up a prayer.

The ball was true. It rattled home and I saw the ball go down to the floor, get grabbed by the other team as I raised my fists in the air, sprinted the opposite direction and watched the clock roll over to 0:00 with the buzzer sounding. All I could think of was Derek Fisher vs. San Antonio when he hit that buzzer beater 3 pointer to win the game and how he ran straight for the locker rooms with his team chasing him and leaving the entire stadium in pandemonium.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RodiAAns6Jk&feature=related

I was laughing hysterically as I watched my entire team chase me to the other court and try to tackle me. Even now when I think of it, I get those chills again. I hope I can look back to this game as a time I saved the team, instead of screwing it all up for them.

This is definitely one for the books. My first buzzer beating shot couldn’t have come at a better time. It’s silly, but I’m very proud of it since I know all of the hard work we put in throughout the season. It feels damn good to be champions of the Everett Boeing basketball league, division 2, fall season.

Here’s looking towards next season where the goal is to go undefeated.

That One Grey Hair

Yes, I will be using “grey” throughout this post because it looks cooler than “gray”. Just like the words “Theatre” and “Favourite”. However, “greying” is not acceptable in Word spell check, so I’ll be using “graying” later on (neither is favourite).

Atop of my head stands one grey hair. I’m sure I’ve got other grey hairs on my head, but for some reason, this one just stands out. Only people who have stared at me for hours of time (not sure why they would, but they have) know it’s there. Or at least people who have looked at my head closely enough.

If you do look close enough, you can find it. It’s at the pinnacle of my scalp. Probably at the highest point of my head, which is why it sticks out.

Like a lightning bolt shooting down through a darkened forest.

I’m not sure when it first showed up. I think I can remember seeing it as early as 2 years ago. And this is my blog post dedicated to it. Silly, I know, but I didn’t have much time to write and I wanted something that wasn’t so serious.

I once thought of pulling it. In fact, some days I want to.

Recently though, I’ve come up with all sorts of theories on it. Why I only have one grey hair on my head – at least that I can see.

And since I only have one, I guess I shouldn’t pull it. I’ve sort of grown a little proud of it. Also, I’m worried that if I pull it, one will sprout up elsewhere. And I won’t have the ability to locate that one grey hair on my head…unless the grey hair just moves a follicle over.

I remember watching my aunt pull my uncle’s grey hair out. He had a few dozen grey hairs at least on his head, but it wasn’t the “salt and pepper” – you know George Clooney look. I remember thinking to myself while I watched her pull at his head that soon he would be bald if she kept pulling them.

My one grey hair represents what another person’s God may represent to them. Release. I’ve heard that people who go through major physical traumas (like a stroke) can suddenly go from a full head of brown hair to all grey (or even white). All of that stress on the body can really change you, and it reflects in your hair obviously. I’ve never seen it myself – but I have seen what the years have done to my parent’s generation and their hair. Heck, I’ve even seen what age has done to my older friends, one who is 28, and like my uncle should get his grey hairs pulled out. They look odd being scattered amongst his head.

Why my one hair represents release to me is for this reason: When I’m feeling somewhat overwhelmed or stressed, I’ll look in the mirror and see that hair. And it’s almost like I can funnel all that burdens me in to that one hair. In my mind, things get a little better. Since the hair is grey already, I’m sure it wouldn’t mind taking on a little more. Whatever works right? And maybe it’s not just that I funnel it, it’s like I know it’s there so I’ve got a little outlet for all that ails me.

I also like to imagine that this will work for years to come. Unfortunately (maybe I’m looking too closely) I’ve noticed that my hair line is starting to recede. Both of my grandpas were bald. My dad is bald. Even my wife’s dad is balding. Really I have no chance of keeping any cover for this huge noggin. World, I apologize in advance, but there’s going to be a lot of reflection coming off of this massive gourd.

As a kid I was taunted as having such a huge head that I looked like a watermelon on a tooth pick. Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will forever plague me until I’m paying $200 an hour to a shrink. My mom always talks about how she was in labor for 18 hours and they tried to suck my out but then pushed me back in and finally c-sectioned. Sorry mom. To this day I am still tormented – but it’s not that bad because I’ve still got my hair to cover it. And I am hoping that I’ve got enough of a timeline left in this hair that I won’t be laughed at for another 7-10 years. I mean at least give me that. Maybe by that time they’ll have extensions for men, but not really extensions, just good looking hair that isn’t as bad as plugs, or an all out toupee.

Maybe it’s kids that bring the balding/graying of hair? That’s possible.

I had a dream about 2 weeks ago where I looked in the mirror and my hair had become that salt and pepper color. It didn’t look too bad. For a few years there my dad used “just for men” hair color. You could tell when it was fading because you could see the grey in his hair coming in…but then all of the sudden the next day his hair was jet black. I swear, who do we honestly think we’re fooling? Watching him do that every month I promised myself I would wear my grey hair with pride. And I will. It took years to get that badge of stress and old age, and I’m going to wear it well (hopefully).

Isn’t it weird to have just one grey hair though? And have it for so long without any other grey hairs showing up? I swear I haven’t seen another one on my head. Maybe there’s a name for this condition…if it is a condition.

And it’ll be just my luck that tomorrow I’ll wake up and they’ve multiplied. My one grey hair knew I was thinking/writing about him and he had to wake up the rest of his buddies.

Well done me.