Tag: humor

That one St. Paddy’s Day I was attacked by a wooden lion…

(It’s been two years since that fateful St. Paddy’s Day when I was attacked by a wooden lion. Some scars take longer to heal. Especially when there’s splinters. Below is the whole sordid (weird) tail… I mean tale.
Erin go Roar!)

image It’s been nearly 40 years since my third-grade teacher, Mrs. Flunkem, wrote the following remark in red ink on my report card:

Unstructured time is a challenge for Ned.

After reading this, my mother looked at me and said, “Since when did filling your unstructured time become a challenge?”

And things haven’t really changed since then. I can honestly say, through sheer luck and determination, I have put myself in a position to have what I’m sure Mrs. Flunkem would consider entirely too much unstructured time. Fortunately for me, my wife disagrees with Mrs. Flunkem and encourages me to make the most of it.

How?

By saying things like, “Hey Honey! Look at that wooden lion over there!” Continue reading That one St. Paddy’s Day I was attacked by a wooden lion…

If Abe Lincoln could update his famous quote

imageIf Abraham Lincoln was alive today, I think it’s fair to say could all agree on one thing:

It would be really creepy.

I also think he would have a lot to say about the current state of American politics, and how the once noble pursuit of the presidency has become more like “The Amazing Race.”

But without the “amazing” part.

Given the chance, I believe President Lincoln would amend his famous quote to something more like this…

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No, you’re not seeing things; I’m wearing glasses now

imageIt all started a few weeks ago when my wife and I were watching a Japanese movie with subtitles. Being  that I’m the only one in the family who doesn’t wear glasses, I gladly explained to her that Lord Yushido had demanded, “A ferret army be dropped by helicopter upon my enima lesions!”

I’m no expert on early 1700s Japanese history, but I’m pretty sure Shoguns didn’t travel by helicopter. And the rest of that statement… I don’t even want to think about.

“When’s the last time you had an eye exam?” my wife asked, pressing pause and donning her glasses. “And by the way, it says, ‘A fierce army be delivered on horseback to break my enemy’s legions.'”

“Yeah, that makes more sense,” I said, and admitted I hadn’t had an eye exam since middle school. Did I mention I’ll be 50 in a few months? I’ve always prided myself on still having a full head of hair, being in relatively good shape and not needing glasses.

Thanks to Lord Yushido and his lesions, it seemed I might have to settle for two-out-of-three. As we arrived at the optometrist’s office the following weekend, I was still hopeful my eyes had just been tired lately. Or that I’d merely had a minor stroke.

We have teenagers at home, so it was possible.  Continue reading No, you’re not seeing things; I’m wearing glasses now

This Just In: Madman in charge of newsroom this week

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…TAT-tat-tat-TAT-TAT-tat-tat-TAT…

[Breaking News from another strangely irrelevant moment in our newsroom…]

Our editor is on vacation this week. That means I’m in charge. And by “in charge” I mean putting my feet up on the editor’s desk and yelling “Someone get me a photo of that menacing wallcrawler SPIDER-MAN!”

Because this is a nonsmoking building, I do this while waving a giant chocolate cigar around. Yesterday for added effect, I slammed my hand down on the editor’s desk for emphasis. That’s when I realized the cigar had liquor inside. When our office manager came in and found me licking the desk, it got uncomfortable for everyone.   Continue reading This Just In: Madman in charge of newsroom this week

I’m glad the computer ‘Help Line’ doesn’t handle suicide prevention

Frustrated_man_at_a_desk_(cropped) Sometime between Sunday afternoon and Monday morning, my computer slipped from its normal “sleep mode” and into a deep coma. This became apparent after hitting the space bar and getting no reaction whatsoever, not counting a low-pitched whirring sound that — if I didn’t know better — I could swear was snoring.

Realizing there might be a serious problem, I gathered all of my computer troubleshooting experience and, over the course of the next 10 minutes, applied that experience by hitting the space bar no less than 400 times. When that didn’t work, I unplugged the computer and plugged it back in. Tried a different outlet. Switched keyboards. Wiggled my mouse. Considered finding a different occupation, preferably one involving explosives. I eventually realized the only thing left to do was call the Help Line listed in the service manual and hope someone there could either (a) talk me through this or (b) talk me down should our conversation move to the rooftop. Continue reading I’m glad the computer ‘Help Line’ doesn’t handle suicide prevention

That time an elephant gave birth in my hotel room

You may not want to see this...
You may not want to see this…

Yesterday, I wrote about the obligation we all share in pursuing our weirdness, and how the city of Portland in my home state of Oregon has an unofficial slogan I feel is a noble pursuit: Keep Portland Weird. For those of you who have read my last few posts, you’ve probably figured out I actually spent some time in the City of Weirdness last week. If you haven’t read them, I’m sorry — but it’s too late to issue a spoiler alert.

That being said, during my stay I encountered what was easily the most annoying door in the history of hotel rooms. And as someone who actually read “The History of Hotel Room Doors” by Robert Hookey, you can trust my judgement.

While it would’ve been easy to react by demanding the hotel to bring a can of WD-40 to my room (for the door hinges, jeez…), or move me to a different room, I decided to take my own advice and utilize my inner weirdness to keep things in perspective and deal with the situation with a laugh instead of a grumble.  Continue reading That time an elephant gave birth in my hotel room

You owe it to the world to pursue your weirdness

imageAs an Oregonian who spent several years living in Portlandia, I feel the city’s unofficial mantra “Keep Portland Weird” is a noble pursuit. The world needs weird. Not the Donald Trump kind of weird, which is like a Stephen-King-horror-novel-with-a-terrifying-evil-clown-kind-of-weird.

No, I’m talking about a less volatile, better coiffed and more enjoyable kind of weirdness that helps us keep a fresh perspective on daily life.

Albert Einstein, Edgar Alan Poe, Leonardo da Vinci, Lucille Ball — all were geniuses in their own way who reminded us to see the world with wonderment by unapologetically pursuing their weirdness.

I’m no genius. I’m reminded of this every time I spend 5 minutes getting frustrated with the TV remote, then realize it’s the garage door opener — usually after the neighbor calls to tell me our Labrador is repeatedly being knocked unconscious. Though I’m no genius, I do consider myself weird. And so do others. Particularly my teenagers, who avoid eye contact whenever we’re in public because they’re afraid I’ll do something weird that will embarrass them.

Or as they jokingly say, “DESTROY OUR LIVES!”

Ha! Ha!

Ok, maybe they’re not joking.  Continue reading You owe it to the world to pursue your weirdness

Proof of why I’m not an architect

imageThis past weekend I had the opportunity to participate in something which, like most things I participate in, proved to be embarrassing. In this case, I was up against young kids designing earthquake-safe structures that are part of a hands-on exhibit at the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry (OMSI).

Each structure is made from Connexts building pieces and built on a platform that simulates movement during an earthquake — or coincidentally, how I look on the dance floor after a few drinks.

The object was to build a structure that can withstand the rigors of a magnitude 5.o quake.

*yawn*

Puh-Leez. I used to sleep through those things as a kid in California…

Apparently, I must’ve been a heavy sleeper…

Some Oscars have already been handed out — Not that anyone cares

imageHOLLYWOOD (sort of) — As excitement over the much-anticipated glitz and glamour of this Sunday’s Academy Awards builds throughout Hollywood, Oscar winners for Technical Achievement were the first to bask in the spotlight during an equally prestigious awards ceremony held last night at a lavishly decorated abandoned Blockbuster Video warehouse in Culver City.

The evening began with nominees arriving in style aboard rented school bus shuttles adorned with banners reading “On To State The Oscars!” Like any major Hollywood premier, beams of light criss-crossed the night sky as unemployed SAG members waved flashlights to keep shuttles out of the McDonald’s parking lot across the street.

“These members of the Academy deserve to be recognized for their achievements,” Academy president Cheryl Boone Isaacs said during a phone interview. “And just because we don’t know what they do exactly, or who they are, doesn’t mean their night should be any less special. Or held during the actual Oscars ceremony.”  Continue reading Some Oscars have already been handed out — Not that anyone cares

Don’t worry, ball yankers are just a part of bowling

imageAfter seven years weeks of attending our oldest son’s high school bowling tournaments, I’m passing along a few tips to parents who may find themselves in a similar situation. And by ‘”situation” I mean contemplating suffocating themselves with an empty bowling bag after listening to 24 lanes of crashing pins for five hours. Especially if, for personal reasons, you aren’t comfortable spending those hours drinking in front your child’s high school teammates.

First, invest in a tall folding chair. The taller the better. In fact, consider purchasing a portable lifeguard stand if possible. That’s because getting a prime seat to watch your child bowl depends on how willing you are to take the life of a complete stranger. Getting a good location is similar to the Oklahoma Land Rush. Once the doors open, parents stampede (some on actual horseback) to the most valuable territory: the mid-point between 1) the center of the bowling lanes, 2) the bar and 3) the restrooms.

Parents then frantically stake their claim by jamming giant folding chairs together until the result is something similar to how homes are wedged together in poor sections of Hong Kong. Should something unexpected cause a panic, such as an earthquake or 300-game, it’s doubtful anyone will survive a catastrophic folding-chair collapse. For this reason, I suggest avoiding the mayhem by investing in that portable lifeguard stand. Sure, it may draw some stares and grumbling. Especially as you arrive moments before the tournament and climb to your seat well above those who clamored for prime territory when the doors opened at 6:30 a.m. There may even be a few threats about speaking to the management. But as they’ll discover, the only rule about spectator chairs is that they be moveable.

So as they say in bowling: They can go wax their balls.  Continue reading Don’t worry, ball yankers are just a part of bowling