Bob Ross Video Game?

I’m not sure whether to be excited or appalled by this. Bob Ross: the video game!

The man offered inspiration to thousands of artists and entertained millions of stoners. Now America’s favorite art teacher is going to be immortalized in a video game.
With his preternaturally calm manner, his love of nature and a perfectly round Afro, Ross taught the world to paint “happy little trees,” “happy little clouds” and “pretty little mountains.”
We are lucky enough to live an age where his influence on the art world need never end.

Hurting

One thing I will say about my morning workouts, I sure know how to wear myself out. I did mostly running this morning, about 3 miles or so, I figure, but after not having run in a long time, that wiped me out. I also stopped occasionally for situps and pushups. The situps were almost easier in a sadistic way, but the pushups were really burning my arms. The first one was worst each time, and they got better as I went on, but oh, the burning!
Not much else going on this morning. Be aware that since tomorrow is April Fool’s Day, a lot of websites, etc, that normally run such jokes, are running them a day early, so that people get to see them. Prime example: Think Geek has its annual list of funny products. My favorite is the wireless extension cord.

Things I Noticed Today

1. I’m freakin’ sore all over. Well, actually, my legs are not sore right now. But my abs, my arms, ouch! Tomorrow’s workout will definitely be lower key, probably mostly running.
2. I still love “Lost,” but one of my biggest pet peeves is when people can’t figure out the difference between “its” and “it’s.” Even worse though, is screwing up “your”/”you’re.” Which “Lost” did on March 22. I’m catching up on the episode slowly, and it involves a lot of subtitles, since it’s a Sun/Jin episode. One of the subtitles, the doctor says to Sun something like “It is you’re husband who has the problem.” Are you freakin’ kidding me? How many writers, producers, etc did that have to get past to get on the air? Come on guys, get with it.
3. Completely making up for that mistake, last night’s “Lost” gave us Internet geeks something new to chew on: a blacklight map. Check it out. That should keep the message boards humming for a while.
4. It’s beautiful outside, and totally spring. 70+ degrees and sunny. Coincidentally, today is the peak bloom day for the cherry blossoms downtown. And I’m stuck here at work. Ugh.

Josh

Anyone else think it’s just weird that a guy named Josh is the new White House chief of staff, since the deputy chief of staff on “The West Wing” is named Josh too? I’m just saying…

Work it out

I got up early this morning and did about a 40 minute workout, running, situps, pushups, etc, in the park. I am pretty beat now, but even so, I think I could have pushed myself a llittle harder. At least it felt good to get out there. I even surprised myself with how many pushups I was able to do. I guess all that sweeping helps.
In yet another stunning reminder that people do actually find and occasionally read this blog (the previous one being when my Lasik doctor read it), one of the guys from my new baseball team found me. They sound like a good bunch of guys, so I’m looking forward to it. We’re having a scrimmage game on Sunday morning, and the following week is the first week of the season already.
I’ve pretty much decided to take a day off for the Nats opening day. It’s a 1pm game against the Mets, and it doesn’t appear to be sold out, so I figured that would be a good way to spend a belated birthday. Spring is here!

MSU National Champs!

For the second time in three years, Michigan State won the collegiate National Debate Tournament championship. After starting the year with a win at the Wake Forest tournament, they had to beat Wake Forest in the finals and they emerged with a 6-1 victory. Congratulations to Will Repko and Mike Eber, the head coach and director of the MSU debate program, and to seniors Ryan Burke and Casey Harrigan.
Hey, at least someone at MSU won something this year.

Labels

Another day, another label applied to my generation. First it was Gen-X, then the yuppie variations (yupster (yuppie + hipster), yindie (yuppie + indie)). Now, a New York magazine article debuts “grups.” Taken from a Star Trek (the original series) episode, where they find a planet of children who rule the world, with no adults in sight. The kids call Kirk and the crew “grups,” which they eventually figure out is a contraction of “grown-ups.” It turns out that all the grown-ups had died from a virus that greatly slows the aging process and kills anybody who grows up. It seems that some Gen-Xers have become grown-ups who don’t want to grow up and cling to their hip-ness.
I’m probably only a pre-pre-grup, but this whole article is cracking me up, especially this part:
“The Grup Children, or Daddy, Please Turn That Music Down

Here’s the bad news about kids: They’re not cool. Especially little kids. Like, 2-year-olds? Forget it. Left to their own devices, they don’t dress well, they have no sense of style, and frankly, their musical taste sucks.

Here’s the good news about kids: They’re defenseless. So if you want to put a Ramones T-shirt on your 2-year-old, you don’t need his permission. All you need is for someone to have the great idea to make a 2-year-old-size Ramones T-shirt. (And trust me—someone’s had that idea.) And if you want to play the Strokes for your 4-year-old son, what’s he going to do? I’ll tell you what—he’s going to learn to love the Strokes.

“My son seems to like the Hives a lot,” says Neal Pollack, the author of the forthcoming memoir Alternadad: The True Story of One Family’s Struggle to Raise a Cool Kid in America, of his 3-year-old son, Elijah, and the raucous Swedish fivesome the Hives. “I mean, he doesn’t know who they are. He calls it ‘thunder music’ when I put it on. He gets very excited by that. That makes me sort of proud.”"

Just like we’ve brainwashed Ellie into liking Sufjan Stevens and the Saw Doctors, and how she wears the Paul Frank trendy monkey shirt.

“You have to have a little bit of Dora the Explorer in your life,” he says. “But you can do what you can to mute its influence.” Okay. “And there’s no shame, when your kid’s watching a show, and you don’t like it, in telling him it sucks.” Yeah! There’s no—wait. What? “If you start telling him it sucks, maybe he might develop an aesthetic.” Sorry, son. No more Thomas the Tank Engine for you. Thomas sucks. Stop crying. Daddy’s helping you develop an aesthetic. Now Daddy’s going to go put on some thunder music.

Labels

Another day, another label applied to my generation. First it was Gen-X, then the yuppie variations (yupster (yuppie + hipster), yindie (yuppie + indie)). Now, a New York magazine article debuts “grups.” Taken from a Star Trek (the original series) episode, where they find a planet of children who rule the world, with no adults in sight. The kids call Kirk and the crew “grups,” which they eventually figure out is a contraction of “grown-ups.” It turns out that all the grown-ups had died from a virus that greatly slows the aging process and kills anybody who grows up. It seems that some Gen-Xers have become grown-ups who don’t want to grow up and cling to their hip-ness.
I’m probably only a pre-pre-grup, but this whole article is cracking me up, especially this part:
“The Grup Children, or Daddy, Please Turn That Music Down

Here’s the bad news about kids: They’re not cool. Especially little kids. Like, 2-year-olds? Forget it. Left to their own devices, they don’t dress well, they have no sense of style, and frankly, their musical taste sucks.

Here’s the good news about kids: They’re defenseless. So if you want to put a Ramones T-shirt on your 2-year-old, you don’t need his permission. All you need is for someone to have the great idea to make a 2-year-old-size Ramones T-shirt. (And trust me—someone’s had that idea.) And if you want to play the Strokes for your 4-year-old son, what’s he going to do? I’ll tell you what—he’s going to learn to love the Strokes.

“My son seems to like the Hives a lot,” says Neal Pollack, the author of the forthcoming memoir Alternadad: The True Story of One Family’s Struggle to Raise a Cool Kid in America, of his 3-year-old son, Elijah, and the raucous Swedish fivesome the Hives. “I mean, he doesn’t know who they are. He calls it ‘thunder music’ when I put it on. He gets very excited by that. That makes me sort of proud.”"

Just like we’ve brainwashed Ellie into liking Sufjan Stevens and the Saw Doctors, and how she wears the Paul Frank trendy monkey shirt.

“You have to have a little bit of Dora the Explorer in your life,” he says. “But you can do what you can to mute its influence.” Okay. “And there’s no shame, when your kid’s watching a show, and you don’t like it, in telling him it sucks.” Yeah! There’s no—wait. What? “If you start telling him it sucks, maybe he might develop an aesthetic.” Sorry, son. No more Thomas the Tank Engine for you. Thomas sucks. Stop crying. Daddy’s helping you develop an aesthetic. Now Daddy’s going to go put on some thunder music.

Ponce de Leon workout

On Saturday morning, I dragged myself out of bed and went out to participate in the Ponce de Leon league’s spring workout session. Ponce is a recreational men’s baseball league. You have to be over 30 to play in the league at all, and over 36 to pitch. We’ll see what this means for my ability to hit in this league, since I haven’t exactly been Rod Carew out there.
I showed up a little bit late, since I thought the 9:30am-11am time meant that you could just show up at any time during the workout and show them what you could do. Alas, it seemed that it would have been better to show up at the start time. I got there, and everything was in full swing. I was able to pay my registration fee and get my uniform. It’s pretty sharp actually, but I got the large size pants, since I thought my current mediums were a little tight, but it seems the large is a little loose. I can’t win. I’ll probably keep wearing the mediums, since they are short pants, and I like the high socks look.
I trotted out to the outfield to shag some balls, and the first one was hit right at me, and of course handcuffed me. Whack! Right in the heel of the glove and it pops out. Jeez, nice start. Naturally, about this time, they decided to call everyone in to talk about the league and answer questions. Luckily though, we went right back out to pick up where we left off. My first attempt after that was one I had to run after, and this one hit me right in the webbing and bounced out. What the heck was going on? I guess my glove was used to catching big softballs. A few catches later, the glove seemed to be getting broken in better. I did better after that, except for the one time when I tripped over the crappy grass (the grounders were taking hops at 90 degree angles) and slid on my knees. The rest of the time was good though. Eventually, a guy wandered out to the outfield and commented on my AMS shirt. He used to work for my old company, AMS. I didn’t think much of it, and we introduced each other and talked for a bit. Then he said he was the manager of one of the teams, the one that had won the fall league, and that he’d like to have me on his team! Whoa! Who woulda thunk it? I guess since I was one of only 2 or 3 players who were actually wearing baseball pants, I must have looked like I knew what I was doing. And honestly, of the people who were practicing in the outfield, I was pretty good.
The league starts playing in a couple of weeks, so I suppose I should start getting into baseball shape. Time to sit on the couch and start eating more potato chips I guess. Just kidding, I’ve actually got to start running more and working out a little bit. My gluteus maximus was really sore yesterday, and my arm was definitely sore too. In spite of the league’s name, I’m not getting any younger, so I gotta do this while I can.

GMU in the Final Four?!?!?!

My goodness. If you had George freakin’ Mason in your Final Four, congratulations. You’re officially certifiable. You should be thrown in the loony bin and locked away. You’re also a genius. No one could have seen it coming. It was George Mason University. They were supposed to lose to my boys of MSU. And now they’re in the Final Four. Wow.
The in-laws got into town yesterday afternoon, and we decided to go up to Glory Days Grill for dinner. It’s close, and serves nice, safe American food. It’s also a sports bar. We watched the game until it got sent into overtime, and quickly drove down the street to try to catch the end. We walked into the place with about a minute left in the game, with GMU trying to ice it with free throws. The place was packed with Patriot fans (it’s about 10 minutes from their campus). Poor Ellie got a little scared because every time GMU made a shot, or UConn missed one, the place went utterly berserk. When that last shot missed, the whole place erupted. It was somewhere around that time that I realized I was wearing an MSU sweatshirt. Well, at least it’s respectable that their run started with us.
Sadly, MSU’s women’s basketball team lost badly to Duke today, and the men’s hockey team lost a heartbreaker to Maine, 5-4. Right about time for baseball to start. More on that later.