Football’s Greatest Dummy

Gather round, friends.  I have something to tell you and I’m not proud to say it.  You might even find it a little offensive.  Fine, I’ll just come right out with it:  I hate football.  I know what you’re thinking- “How!? Why?! No! This can’t be!”  Well, it be.

In my defense, the reason I don’t enjoy watching it is because I’ve never really learned the rules.  And also because I have sports-induced ADD.  And because I’m a pro at looking super interested in something while I’m actually thinking about puppies and unicorns.

Well, that's neat.

Oh yeah, that’s neat.

I’ve had several friends try their darndest to educate me, but before they can finish their first sentence, I’ve already zoned out.  Don’t worry, I always apologize for being rude.  And then I beg them to stop talking.  It’s for their own good.

Despite the fact that I’ve lived in Texas, the football capital of the world, for all my teenage and adult life, I’ve managed to tune out most football-related talk with ease.  I actually went to college at Texas A&M, a school known for its enthusiastic love of the game. (Yes, I know, it isn’t the only school that loves football. I’m just trying to make a point here).  And, believe it or not, I attended most of the games (at least for the first few years).  I even enjoyed myself between near bouts of heat stroke.  Standing for 3+ hours in 95+ degree heat?  Not my strong suit.  Anyway, while I clapped and yelled along with the crowd, I was actually in far-off Carlyland.  The weather’s lovely there.

General View / line up

Can you see me? I’m the one in the maroon shirt.

So, I bet you’re wondering why I bring this up.  Well, here’s the thing…I’m sick of being out of the loop.  More importantly, I’m tired of being bored to tears when football comes on.  Personally, I see nothing wrong with watching a chick flick and putting the game in that little picture-in-picture box in the bottom corner of the screen, but apparently that isn’t “normal” or “even remotely acceptable.”

Here’s how I plan to conquer this beast:

I'm so scared!

I’m so scared!

Yep, Football for Dummies.  I’m not even ashamed.  Here’s my game plan:  read it and actually pay attention.

I fully expect this to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.  I know, I know, first world problems.  Seriously though, I don’t have any real motivation for finishing since there isn’t a test at the end to prove myself.   Yes, I like tests.  Not for tests’ sake, but because I need something to work toward and to know in black and white terms whether or not I succeeded.  Shoot, I’d rather take the CPA exam again than read this book.  Ok, that’s not true.  But as long as tax season is approaching and we’re talking about CPA’s, I don’t do taxes.  Just thought I’d reiterate that one more time.

I specifically chose to begin this journey right after the Super Bowl.  This should give me plenty of time to learn the basics before college football starts up in the fall.  With A&M expected to have an exciting season, I’d really like to be able to get into it instead of feeling guilty for being the worst Aggie ever.

Don't hate me, Johnny!

Don’t hate me, Johnny!

But this isn’t just about me.  This is also about you.  Your willingness to support me in my endeavor will you bring you immense peace and happiness.  Why?  Because the next time I see you at a football-fueled gathering, the less I’ll talk during the game.  Score!  (Do people still say that?)  So, what do I mean when I say “support?”  Hold me accountable.  Encourage me.  Tell me to try harder.  Ignore me when I tell you to shut it.  Call me lazy when I say I want to give up.   Forgive me when I pay you a cruel yet creative insult that I didn’t really mean.  I’m sorry, it’s the football.  It changes me.

I’ll let you know how it’s going along the way.  By the way, did you notice my sprinkling of sports terms throughout this post?  I bet you did, you sneaky little linebacker, you!

Photo Credits:  1) http://sleepwalkers.guildomatic.com/forums/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=1384&sid=3c068dcf4b5c93543fd69094657f3486  2) http://collegefootball.about.com/od/stadiums/ig/Scary-Stadiums/Kyle-Field.htm  3) http://i.walmartimages.com/i/p/97/81/11/80/12/9781118012611_500X500.jpg 4) http://binaryapi.ap.org/bd2c5b02d7694b6890a04ea04e01dbc1/460x.jpg

Conversations with a 500 year-old: Part 1

Do you remember playing the “If you could have any super power, what would it be?” game when you were a kid?  My response typically fluctuated between being able to fly, being invisible and being able to travel in time.  As a child with a wildly active imagination, I frequently daydreamed about all the advantages these skills could afford me. 

Being able to fly could allow me to:

  • Avoid being tagged at recess
  • Safely escape imminent attack by a wild animal while walking home from school
  • Make my friends green with envy

Being invisible could allow me to:

  • Eavesdrop on my siblings’ conversations
  • Figure out what goes on in the teachers’ lounge at school
  • Play hilarious tricks on people

My wanting to travel in time was a direct result of watching the movie “Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure.”  This movie changed my life.  All five years of it.  I dreamed of being able to travel into the past, but I drooled at the idea of being able to bring people from the past to the present.  I wanted to be a historical figure’s tour guide more than anything.  I loved getting to be the first person to break big news to someone (and still do).  It makes me feel like Ann Curry, minus the red lipstick and ever-so-gentle disposition. 

Anyway, let’s pretend time travel is possible and that I had the opportunity to show someone from history around.  To make sure we’re on the same page, I’m talking about someone from the 1 – 1750 A.D. timeframe, not 1975.  Actually, let’s say 1500, for the sake of consistency.  Here’s how I envision my day with ROG (Really Old Guy) would go:

After he exits the time travel telephone booth, I extend a warm welcome by smiling and handing him a cupcake.  Then I get right down to business.  I tell him that he’s travelled into the future.  When he doesn’t understand what I’m saying and reaches for his sword, I promptly sedate him.  I remove the weapon from his hand, spray some Febreze in his hair and wait for him to come to. 

Once he awakens from his slumber, I bring him a plate of meat and potatoes, which helps to calm him down.  While he eats, I explain the whole time travel thing again.  Finally, he understands the situation and agrees to let me show him what the future is like.  My dream has come true.  

Before I can take him into public, I show him what a shower looks like and tell him to take one immediately.  He fights me on this, arguing that he just bathed, like, a year ago.  I shake my head, tell him he’s so totally gross and explain the benefits of modern hygiene.  He concedes. 

I burn his clothes and give him the largest replacement clothes I can find:  an XXL t-shirt I received at a blood drive and a pair of men’s pajama pants I had to buy because women’s are never long enough.  His hair is an absolute rat’s nest, but luckily I have a lot of experience in this area.  I introduce him to Herbal Essences conditioner and begin brushing his hair.  Ok, even I haven’t had tangles like this before.  I give up and shave his head.  Oh my!  ROG is so handsome!

I decide to take him to Starbucks to enjoy a hot beverage and a chat.  As soon as we get in the car, I realize that I’ll have to explain what a car is and how it works:

CC:  “A car is a transportation device that goes fast.  It’s like a horse, but without the manure.  The way it works is, you put the key in the little keyhole and turn it.  There’s also some metal under the lid that does some stuff.   Got it?  Great!  Now let me show you how to work the radio- that’s the important part.”

ROG:  “Is there a man who can explain this “car” thing to me?  I feel that you’ve left out a few parts.”

CC:  “Oh, hush.  Everyone knows cars are boring anyway.” 

As we enter Starbucks, ROG asks why the person making the drinks has striped hair and colored stuff on her eyes and mouth.  I explain that women these days frequently change the color of their hair and put paint-like materials all over their faces in order to appear more attractive than they actually are.  He rolls his eyes and laments that women have become stranger than ever.  Based on that comment, I hold off on telling him about Lady Gaga.  It’s too soon.

We sit down and I’m riddled with anxiety over what major topic to cover first.  There are so many to choose from!  I turn and see him looking at a man talking on his cell phone.  The question marks floating above his head couldn’t be more obvious.   This was it.  I was going to embark on explaining telecommunications to ROG. 

Unfortunately, in the interest of preventing my posts from being obnoxiously long, I’m gonna go all Ryan Seacrest on you and tell you that you’ll have to wait for Part 2 to keep reading.  See ya next time, America!

I Have an Adrenaline Dream

If there’s one thing Martin Luther King, Jr. taught us, it’s that we can all have a dream (I interpret this to also mean “dreams”).  Whether it’s graduating from college, climbing Mt. Everest or furthering the civil rights cause, we all have something we aspire to achieve. 

This evening I was reminded of my very own long-since developed dream.  I had just taken the life of a spider by smashing it in a rather violent manner (and then dousing it in Black Flag when I saw remaining signs of life).  It was my own fault that he was in the house.  Coco was staying over and I left the back door open for her to wander in and out at her leisure.  After coming inside for the 12th time in the last hour, I saw her trying to paw at something under the recliner.* I took a gander and saw a small beetle squirming through the carpet.  Having just killed a similar creature, I could understand her desire to remove this pest.

In order to get to the bug, the chair would have to be moved.  My moving the chair for the sole purpose of bug-murder seemed a bit extreme, but I had to do it for the pup.  I also didn’t want this thing crawling around my house all willy-nilly.  I mean come on, people sleep here.

As I lifted the chair, I was surprised by how light it was.  This doesn’t make any sense since I’ve moved it several times before and should know its approximate weight by now.  (You get used to doing such man-tasks when being a husbandless home owner).  Anyway, as I set the chair down, I was reminded of an idea I came up with long ago.  It was similar to the lifting of the chair, but on a much grander (and cooler) scale.

This fantastic dream developed as a result of the pairing of two things:

1)  My ability to think up ridiculous, yet brilliant ideas (according to myself)

2)  My abnormally alert nature, which causes me to have cat-like reflexes and adrenaline rushes of an above average frequency and intensity (according to myself)

I was a teenager at the time and most likely, adrenaline had just been flowing through my veins as a result of one of the following completely harmless events:

  • Being startled by the sound of a car door shutting 16 houses down
  • Jumping on the trampoline in an upward, non-eventful fashion
  • Tripping on something, which would inevitably turn out to be nothing

I don’t recall how the conversation started, but I told my mother that I would like to lift a car off the ground one day.  Yes, you heard correctly- an automobile

You’re probably wondering how a woman who resembles Olive Oil (the Popeye character, not the actual oil) could ever pull off such a feat.  I’ll tell you how.  When humans are pushed to their limits, they can achieve the unthinkable, including lifting cars off the ground.  It’s happened before, but only to a very lucky few.  

I know this because every time I see a story about a car-lifting rescue on the news, I feel compelled to send the link to my family as proof that it is possible.  Sure, most of those involved in these stories are usually twice my size and are often assisted by several other people, but still.  It’s possible.  Check out the links below if you, too, are skeptical:

Man Lifts Car to Save Child

Child saved in Boca Raton after being pinned beneath car

Mother’s Superhuman Strength Lifts Car from Boy

I felt that with my ability to generate adrenaline rather easily there had to be an untapped power source within me. I explained to my mother that all I needed was a significant jolt of adrenaline.  But how would I obtain this?

 I knew that an ordinary scare wouldn’t do the trick.  No, something really big would have to take place.  I needed to be in the presence of a near-tragedy in order to set off my survival-mode instincts.  This is where I encountered my first hurdle.  How could I know that something potentially devastating was going to occur without causing it myself?  I thought about setting a house on fire or letting a shark loose in a swimming pool full of children, but eventually decided both of these would be in poor taste.  But then, something dawned on me.  An accident doesn’t actually have to happen, I just have to think it’s happening.  I did some quick brainstorming and revealed the plan:

I would need someone to place a very realistic looking dummy under a vehicle.  They would have to plan it like a surprise party.  Everything would have to be kept hush-hush beforehand so that I couldn’t possibly know it was coming.  I would be prompted to go outside, at which time I would see the unthinkable: a loved-one being crushed underneath thousands of pounds of whatever cars are made out of.  Without hesitation, I would run to their rescue, lifting the car with all my might.  My dream would be realized.

Now, for an event of this nature to be successful, it would have to be pulled off without a hitch.  To ensure this happens, I put together a few rules for those in charge of executing the plan. 

The rules are:

  • The dummy must look just like a family member.  It will need to wear a recognizable outfit, have similar features and, if at all possible, contain a device that would cause its limbs to wiggle
  • The dummy cannot resemble any of my arch enemies, as I may choose to let nature take its course and not carry out the rescue operation.  This would make me look bad.
  • The vehicle should be a commonly purchased make and model.  Please, no Smart Cars, buses, or semi-trucks.  Let’s be real.
  • Cameras must be set up at various locations surrounding the scene of the incident in order to capture the event from several different angles.   If people aren’t going to believe this story, it might as well have never happened at all. 
  • Do NOT help me lift the car. 
  • Please have a hearty snack and a glass of water waiting for me after the lift.  Picking up cars can take a lot out of a person.

Pretty cool, right?  Truth be told, this inner power is within you, too.  I assume you would like to experience something of this sort now that you can visualize the grandness of it all.  It pains me to think that you may never get such an opportunity, as your friends and family will likely label this as “preposterous” and dismiss the idea before you even get to the part about the dummy.    

So, now that you’re on your own, you need a method to extract the power.  Famous athletes will try to convince you that all you need is a swig of Gatorade or a protein shake, but clearly these are just marketing ploys.  I mean, come on.  When was the last time you consumed one of these drinks and felt you could lift a car?  Never.  That’s why I have developed a new sports beverage to assist in your valiant efforts:

Your favorite Adrenaline-laced sports drink!

Adrenalade is a tasty concoction packed with Vitamin C, anti-oxidants, a rich berry flavor and plenty of adrenaline.  It will propel you to a level of greatness you didn’t even know you could reach.  It will make all of your wildest dreams come true.**

Due to some delays in production and lack of FDA approval, this product is not yet available to the public.  I’ll have to get back to you on that…

* To be very clear, this is a modern recliner

**Assuming your dreams consist of lifting cars