Category: crazy

Getting My Geek On

Earlier in the week, a local sports radio guy posed the question to his callers:

“Star Wars Character draft, who’s your no. 1?” (this from the @DamonBruce Twitter feed)

Well, I was so geeked out over the start of Spring Training, I thought he meant baseball players. Turns out he meant basketball.

No matter, I brought up the question to The Good Man over lunch, which led to a rousing conversation about our all-Star Wars character baseball team.

The Good Man and I parted ways on a lot of the position players, but that’s ok. Debate is the heart of baseball.

Herewith are my starting nine (you’ll note I’m sticking to Episode 4,5 and 6 characters. I’m old fashioned that way):

First Base (and batting switch): Luke Skywalker. They guy can do yoga and is bendy. I need a guy who can stretch it out to grab the ball. He can “use the force” to figure out when a ball is coming hot down the line. Gotta keep it from rattling around in that weird right field corner at AT&T Park.

Second Base: Boba Fett. Solid hands. Decent footwork. Backed up by Yoda at short. Yeah, I’m ok with this choice. (yes, I know Fett is a bad guy. Go with me on this.)

Short: Yoda. Who else do you know that could pick it from the shoelaces and do a 360 to first for a double play? Gotta be Yoda.

Third: Obi Wan. Solid hands but an old guy. Too much action at first, third is his spot. I need him to nail down the hot corner and keep runners from scoring. I think an Obi to Yoda to Luke double play combination is *hot*. Keeps runners off balance. Yeah.

Left Field: Lando Calrissian. Look, Billie Dee is the MAN. He’s gotta bat clean up, can take it over the wall and look good doing it. Yup.

Center: Wedge Antilles. The guy’s an ace pilot. He’s lean. He can run. He’s got a good eye. I’ll bet he knows how to take a good route to the ball and can dominate that deep outfield at AT&T Park.

Right Field: Han Solo. Ok, the guy’s kind of a bumbler. I want him where he can do the least damage. I’m betting he can bat ok (but probably slump-y like Aaron Rowand) and can probably handle right (except I worry about him at AT&T Park). He’ll sometimes take a crappy route to the ball and you’ll want to put your head through the television. But mostly solid. The Good Man has Han Solo in left on his lineup card. I may agree with him…don’t know.

Catcher: Chewbacca. Furry Man has got the plate *sealed off*. Plus I bet he’s got a cannon on him. I see NO ONE stealing second with Chewy behind the plate. The Good Man has Chewbacca at third, and there is a good case to be made for that. I’m sticking with catcher. He’s a little tall for the job, but I think his knees can take it.

Pitcher: Well Darth Vader of course. Look, who else do you know in the Galaxy that has the control to throw a nasty 68 mph sinker followed by a 98 mph right up broadway and keep the batters off balance? He’s as ugly as Eric Gagne and twice as mean. You need a pitcher who can play mind games with the batters and Darth is your guy.

Here’s the lineup card I’m exchanging at the plate:

CF Wedge Antilles. Leadin’ us off with speed on the base paths.
1B Luke Skywalker. The guy can get on base and load ’em up for the 3 and 4 hitters.
C Chewbacca takin’ it deep or at least moving the runners.
LF Lando Calrissian batting cleanup. Might switch with Chewy if he’s on a streak.
3B Obi Wan
2B Boba Fett
S Yoda. Not a power hitter but he gets on base.
RF Han Solo. Where he can do the least damage.
P Darth Vader

Because where I come from, the pitcher has to bat. No designated hitter in my galactic ballgame.

I invite your own thoughts on the lineup. I can be persuaded….

Didja ever have a really bad day at work?

So there you are, doing your job. A job that you are actually really darn good at.

I mean, people *know* you are good. You’ve been recognized for your accomplishments.

And so you’ve been called again to take on that big project, that big customer, that big case.

You go about your business like a professional. You rally your support team. You create strategy. You execute on that strategy.

And then, for whatever reasons, the stars weren’t aligned right or someone failed to do their part or just gall durn bad luck, you make a mistake.

Not a huge mistake, but a mistake. It’s the kind of mistake you’ve made before on other deals, and this is a particular mistake you really hate to make. But ok.

This mistake feels worse because it is made on a really high profile project. Meaning more people know you goofed up and the effects have a lot more impact.

But it’s still a mistake.

You’ve made this mistake before and you and your group have recovered from it. It’s a mistake made by all of your peers in other companies at one time or another.

Everybody doing this job has made this mistake.

It is inevitable.

Mistakes happen.

We all make them.

Sometimes they have unintended consequences.

So this is what I was thinking, yesterday, as I listed to local sports radio station KNBR with their wrap up from the Super Bowl.

If you didn’t watch the game, I’ll fill you in. Peyton Manning threw for an interception in the fourth quarter that was returned over 70 yards for a touchdown by the New Orleans Saints.

Most say this was the nail in the coffin for football’s biggest game. That one play.

Callers to the radio station came pouring in to cry foul. To state, for the umpteenth time, that “Peyton choked!”

That he’s not the great quarterback that everyone thinks he is. That he blew it. That it’s all Peyton’s fault!

In a game that lasts four quarters at 15 minutes apiece with who knows how many individual plays, that one play was it, huh? That was the deciding moment?

I’d personally say it was the onside kick recovered by the Saints after the half that was the game changer. The momentum shifter.

There seem to be only a few comments about Colts Hank Baskett’s inexcusable case of brick hands in that moment. (Baskett, born and raised in Clovis, New Mexico. Our proud NM tradition continues on!)

But Hank isn’t the superstar. Hank isn’t the guy we built up to near god status so we can tear him down. His mistake is “just another day on the job.” But Peyton, oh Peyton.

He’s the villain.

Then when a dejected Manning walked off the field at the end of the game and didn’t shake anyone’s hands, now he’s a poor sport.

And apparently a loser and a jerk

And then there is this bit of conspiracy theory, that Peyton helped the NFL fix the game.

Hoo boy.

I guess I come down on the same side as the author of this article.

“One lousy throw is one lousy throw. It’s not a career-ender.”

Those of you who have never made a mistake on the job, raise your hands?

Didn’t think so.

(I figured a little Billy Joel imagery might be keeping in theme with The Who halftime show…you know, old dudes still rockin’? Plus there’s that whole “people who live in glass houses” thing….)

Oh My Brain…

I know I have a unique view on the world sometimes.

In fact, I kind of enjoy that.

Sometimes, it wearies the people around me.

Sometimes, it even perplexes me.

An example. A few years back, I was in a department store with a friend. We were looking for a gift for another friend’s wedding. By the escalator, there was a sign. It said:

“Elevator located in China.”

I was honestly confused.

“What the hell!?” I shouted. “What good does an elevator do me all the way over in China? And where is it? Bejing? Tiananmen Square? What the sam hell??”

My patient friend pointed out…”Uh…China…you know, like plates and cups?”

“Oh. That.”

Yeah. I’m sharp as a marble.

What got me thinking about my backwards brain today was when I passed by a local church.

The sign outside declares it to be a “Transfiguration” church.

I’ve never heard of a Transfiguration church, and I’m sure it’s something quite legitimate and spiritual.

But to me, a Harry Potter reader, I can’t help but think….

As people sit there, solemnly praying, you keep hearing that *pop* sound.

The minister says, “Let us pray.”

*pop* He’s a horse.

*pop* A rabbit.

*pop* A cat.

*pop* A goat.

*pop* A donkey.

And let’s be honest, the visual image cracks me up every time.

Every single dingle time I drive past that church.

*pop*!

Hee!

Ugh, what a brain!

Keep it to yourself, grandma

I remember back when I was about 25 or 26, living in Albuquerque and working at Sandia Labs. Single. Searching. Doing ok.

My older sister was also single and in her twenties, and we grew pretty close back then.

There was one day when I was staying over at her house that she and I went for a walk. We were each other’s support group, so we’d walk along and talk. We’d engage in walking therapy.

This was a chilly winter day. We walked with pink cheeks and a scarf ’round the neck.

We talked about how we both tend to have this internal dialog of snarky comments as we go through our days.

Both of us copped to it. Then my sister said something that sticks with me.

“I just worry that as I age, my ability to keep those thoughts inside will become more difficult.”

I laughed. And I agreed.

See, in our family, we have this relative. My mom’s aunt. She’s a bit infamous among the family as possessing a rather acid tongue. She didn’t even need to grow old to splat out hateful, spiteful and just plan snarky comments.

Oh, she was loyal to her family, especially her beloved brother (my grandfather) and made no bones about letting my grandmother know she wasn’t good enough. I believe she also let my dad know he wasn’t good enough for my mom.

So my sister and I both know that the genes of Aunty Snarky run deep within our DNA. We know how to turn on that frosty chill and say something cuttingly acerbic.

But as my sister pointed out, back then, we did okay keeping it inside.

Now, looking at the world through 40 years old eyes (that need vision correction), I find that my sister was entirely prophetic.

I *am* having trouble keeping that Aunty Snarky side to myself.

It’s such a push-pull of being “the nice girl” vs “oh hell, let’s just be honest.”

I recall reading one of my grandmother’s journals (after she had passed away). In it, she discussed how people always think she’s so nice, “but,” she wrote, “if they only knew.”

Well, I’m afraid I’ve surpassed “if they only knew.” They know.

Because I’ve become that cranky old broad. Only I’m not quite old enough yet to get away with it.

I say things. Out loud. (For example, the “What the f— is your problem?!?!” incident from about a month ago.)

I’ve always ranted about man’s inhumanity to man and tried to rise above it. I really have. But I guess I’ve been worn down. I guess “everybody is doing it” and so I’m no longer rising, I’m wallowing down in it.

Hoo boy. I’m not proud of it.

When I was in Las Vegas, I got busted for it too. I was standing in the narrow median of a quiet street taking a photograph. A pickup rolled by and the driver slowed and said, “I thought you were crossing the street…”

And I thought he was being an a’hole about me being in the median. I’d gotten hassled so much that day while taking photos so my hackles may have been a bit up.

I whirled on him. “Oh nice!” I yelled, “Thank you VERY much. No really, thanks for being such a nice guy!!!” I yelled sarcastically as he drove off.

Ten minutes later the guy walked up to me. “Hey, I just meant, I couldn’t tell if you were crossing the street. But then I saw your camera and I figured it out. That’s all.”

Whoooooo did I feel like a jerk. I ended up apologizing to him and we had a pretty nice conversation about photography.

You’d think that would have capped my fat mouth.

It did, only somewhat.

I’m trying.

I really am. Hard to get that horse back in the barn after all the frolicking in the fields.

It’s just…I don’t always want to be “the nice girl.”

Sometimes I think I just want to be Aunty Snarky when I grow up.

I’m so conflicted.

Just another quiet Wednesday

Yanno, not much going on today.

New product announcements from Apple, a little company you may have heard of.

And not to be outdone, Obama got up to speak tonight too. Says he’s not a quitter (he might take a page or two out of Jobs’ book about being on the ropes and making a comeback).

Turns out Brad and Angelina are still a couple. (whew! That was a close one!)

You know. Business as usual.

Just another day on the funny farm.

P.S. Pitchers and catchers report in 21 days.