Tag: musings

Setting things straight with the American Chiropractic Association

Please forget my advice on improving your posture.
Please forget my advice on improving your posture.
We all make mistakes. The difference is, when you make one, you probably don’t get contacted by someone from the American Chiropractic Association in Arlington, Virginia.

Or maybe you do.

In which case you may want to consider folding up this newspaper right now and going in for an adjustment.

But, unless you mistakenly informed readers that last month was “National Correct Posture Month” when, in fact, we’re all free to slouch until May, I’m guessing you’ve never gotten an e-mail from Angela Kargus, Communications and Public Relations Manager for the ACA.

There are two things I know about Angela:

1) She is very nice.
2) She probably has excellent posture.

I also know she read my column a couple of weeks ago. As Angela pointed out, it proclaimed “National Correct Posture Month” in the wrong month, and provided recommendations on how to avoid slouching that Angela informed me were “outdated.” Continue reading Setting things straight with the American Chiropractic Association

Without question, I put the ‘A’ in ‘Jockstrap’

Even keeping my eye on the ball wouldn't help much.
Even keeping my eye on the ball wouldn’t help much.
Yesterday, I had my first baseball practice in 30 years. It was with a group of guys with names like Chico, Blaze, Rip, and Easton — guys who even sound like baseball players.

My name is Ned, which is why this morning I am so sore my nostrils are the only part of my body capable of responding — albeit only to simple verbal commands such “Flare” and “Sniff.”

For this reason, I’d like to apologize in advance for any typos you may find in this column. Please keep in mind it was typed using only my nostrils, and a dried lima bean that was strategically dropped onto the appropriate keys through a combination of sniffing and flaring. Continue reading Without question, I put the ‘A’ in ‘Jockstrap’

Self-aware leftovers: The forgotten victims of divorce

[A quick note about this post: Over the years, my wife has mentioned that this column — which I wrote after my divorce 10 years ago — is one of her favorites. It’s also the first column of mine that she read. And yet, she still went out with me…]

_DSC0009 copy There’s nothing funny about divorce. At least, not until you have time to gain some perspective and accept the fact that staying up until 2 a.m. reconfiguring the salt and pepper shakers on your dining room table is just part of the healing process.

Like vacuuming the kitchen tile and mopping the living room carpet.

Or getting excited over having extra closet space while at the same time avoiding that space as much as possible.

After a few months, I suddenly turned around and realized I had moved forward. As strange as it sounds, I think it started the day I threw away the last of the leftovers from when my ex-wife and I were still together.

Granted, they had been in there for quite a while already. Possibly even as far back as Cinco de Mayo, though I couldn’t be sure since the contents appeared to be a member of an unidentified fifth food group. Continue reading Self-aware leftovers: The forgotten victims of divorce

Full-contact bowling could get more men to yell at their TVs

Full-contact bowling could add a whole new meaning to the agony of defeat.
Full-contact bowling could add a whole new meaning to the agony of defeat.
Like millions of other red-blooded, unathletic men across America, I will spend a good portion of New Year’s Day sitting on the couch, eating handfuls of assorted snack foods, and whining every time a player from my team makes even the teeniest mistake.

It doesn’t matter that these men are performing feats of athletic skill I can only achieve in my dreams (after which I usually wake up with a pulled groin muscle.) And it doesn’t matter that each of these men possesses more muscle mass than my entire body weight plus a mid-sized SUV.

The reason these things don’t matter to us men is because we knew THOSE men can’t actually hear us. If they could, then football parties as we know them would cease to exist: Continue reading Full-contact bowling could get more men to yell at their TVs

Open contempt for those in better shape is the first step to a healthier you

Speed up your workouts by avoiding eye contact with anyone in better shape than you.
Speed up your workouts by avoiding eye contact with anyone in better shape than you.
Like millions of Americans, I recently stripped down, prepared myself for the worst, and stepped onto the scale. Soon after, I retrieved the scale from the front yard and accepted the fact that, yes — it probably was defective. At my daughter’s suggestion, I tried our neighbor’s scale. This led to the discovery that, of the 23 scales I tested within a five-mile radius of our home, every single one was off by exactly seven pounds. Being a journalist, I had to wonder: Was this a widespread problem? Were we being duped into needless exercise by faulty scales?!

I immediately brought this to the attention of my editor, who, realizing the implications, told me to stay out of her candy drawer.

The truth is, I have no one but myself to blame for putting on these extra pounds. This is why, every year around this time, people just like me make a commitment to start going to the gym. I know this because I recognize most of these people from last year. We all have the same expression: grim determination mixed with a sense of purpose in knowing that, afterward, there’s a KFC right across the street. We come dressed with headbands and towels over our shoulders even though we spend most of our time wandering around the gym looking for water bottles. Continue reading Open contempt for those in better shape is the first step to a healthier you

At a newspaper, every roll is crucial

Behind every great news story is a paper trail.
Behind every great news story is a paper trail.
There are few things that can bring a newspaper to a halt when it is facing a deadline. In fact, aside from a natural catastrophe or a critically important breaking news story (Example: Anything related to Dancing with the Stars), nothing stands in the way of our commitment, as journalists, to ensure that the power of the press continues — unless, of course, the unthinkable happens, and we run out of toilet paper in both employee restrooms.

As professionals, this is a scenario we train for. We know how to recognize a potential “situation” that could leave us vulnerable and without back-up. Yet, as we learned today, all it takes is a momentary lapse in resoluteness for things to escalate into a full-blown crisis.

“Has anyone seen Bill?” (Note: The names in this dramatic re-enactment have been changed to protect the innocent, such as myself, from being physically assaulted by “Bill.”) Continue reading At a newspaper, every roll is crucial

Being Canadian for a day could lead to a strained Molson muscle

Since the speed limit is 120 mph in Canada, sneaking Kraft Mac & Cheese into Alberta should be a breeze.
Since the speed limit is 120 mph in Canada, sneaking Kraft Mac & Cheese into Alberta should be a breeze.
Today we will be talking about Canada.

Why?

Because aside from the many similarities we share with Canadians, such as celebrating our independence day the very same weekend, and our historic bi-lateral agreement banning any future above-ground testing of Nadya Suleman’s reproductive system, I have been offered an official Canadian citizenship starting at 12 a.m. on Jan. 1.

OK, so my citizenship will only last 24 hours.

Possibly less, depending on how I pronounce the word “Poutine” (which, from what I understand, is a French word meaning “clogged artery”). However, if all goes well, I will get to spend an entire day as a real Canadian, eating nothing but Tim Horton’s Donuts, chewing purple gum that tastes like soap, and stretching my Molson muscle (which I swear only sounds inappropriate for a family newspaper.) Continue reading Being Canadian for a day could lead to a strained Molson muscle

Still looking for that special gift? These products won’t help

Maybe even Santa is feeling stressed by the fiscal cliff?
Maybe even Santa is feeling stressed by the fiscal cliff?
Warning: This column contains gift ideas of an explicitly stupid nature and may not be suitable for some readers. Particularly anyone who might actually consider buying one of these items for a friend or loved one.

That’s right! It’s time once again for our annual holiday feature: Gifts That Say Santa is Getting Senile.

As always, we spared no expense when it came to assembling a team of journalists with the talent necessary for this assignment. And, as always, we wasted those talents by spending our entire operating budget of $32 on lottery Scratch-Its. As a result, our plan to provide you with exciting Christmas gift ideas quickly deteriorated into this list of stupid products that, if given as gifts, will surely lead to more than one hospitalization this holiday.

Let us begin. Continue reading Still looking for that special gift? These products won’t help

Santa Summit prompts Greenland ‘No-Fly Zone’

Santa's Christmas Eve will go a little quicker now that he can skip Greenland.
Santa’s Christmas Eve will go a little quicker now that he can skip Greenland.
What makes email great is that it’s so darned easy to use. For example: If you come across something that absolutely HAS TO BE SEEN by everyone you know — like say a picture of a cat doing chin-ups — you can simply click a button and send it to 100 people. Or in the case of my favorite aunt who still hasn’t mastered this process, you can send that very same knee-slapping picture to one person — such as your favorite nephew — 100 times.

The reason I bring this up is because, if not for email, I sincerely doubt someone from Midland, Mich., would’ve gone to the trouble of sending me a photo of 176 Santas standing on the deck of a fishing boat off the coast of Greenland (And YES, this is primarily the kind of email I get.)

I should mention that we were one of 50 newspapers that received the photo, which was part of an announcement letting people know that classes at the Charles W. Howard Santa Claus School had come to an end. Continue reading Santa Summit prompts Greenland ‘No-Fly Zone’

Men, help your wives avoid jail by returning that stupid gift you got them before it’s too late

The wives of men who trusted their gift-giving instincts.
The wives of men who trusted their gift-giving instincts.
Many years ago, I bought my ex-wife an Epilady shaver for Christmas. Because it was a sleek, modern, electrical device costing more than $50, there was no reason to suspect it would feel like someone had just ripped the hair out of her legs using Super Glue and a roll of duct tape. While I’m sure I’d gotten her gifts she didn’t really like, she’d accepted them. But in this case, as she chased me through the house completely naked and swiping at my scalp with her new Epilady, two things came to mind:

1) She really hates this gift,

and

2) I shouldn’t have gotten her the cordless model.

Now, before I get an angry letter from Park Products, Inc., I should clarify that this was a long time ago, and I’m sure the latest model is a vast improvement over the one she hurled through our bathroom window. Continue reading Men, help your wives avoid jail by returning that stupid gift you got them before it’s too late