Centennial Ice Cream

I buy ice cream about once a centennial, but I've been hearing about the famous Blue Bell brand since I first mentioned that I was moving to the South.

I wanted to see what the fuss was all about (when in Rome, you know) so I scanned the vanilla, chocolate and strawberry. *Yawn* Then something caught my eye--a green, four-leaf clover and the words "Centennial Cupcake."

Blue Bell's Centennial Ice Cream is cupcake batter ice cream with cake pieces, chocolate icing and sprinkles. Did you catch that? I said cake batter ice cream filled with a bunch of goodies. So many baked goods (cookies, brownies, cakes) are even gooder before they're baked. Totally worth the raw egg risk. Admit it--the spoon and bowl licking is your favorite part too.

Bracing myself for the disappointment that sometimes comes when foods sound better than they taste, I took a small bite. Then I upended the tub and polished it off in 35 seconds. Of course I went back to that aisle next time looking for another half gallon. Gone! This ice cream is special edition to celebrate 4H's centennial.

So if you're in the South, get it while you can at Wal-Mart, Publix and Winn Dixie. If you're not in the South, fly, drive or walk here and buy a half gallon.

After all, this is the kind of ice cream that only comes around once in a hundred years.

"April Showers Bring May Flowers" by William P.

We've had a bit of rain lately.

And by a bit of rain, I mean daily downpours. The kind that bring the phrases "sheets of rain" and "rolling thunder" to the English vernacular. You could swim in my backyard.

What's that saying about rainy days? Daily downpours bring delightful dogwoods? March monsoons bring magnificent blossoms? April showers bring awesome azaleas?

Whatever it is, I'll take those April showers. And I'll take my daily walks among those May flowers-- bumblebears and all.

William P., popular guest writer, weighs in on the subject below:

"April Showers Bring May Flowers" by William P.

If April showers bring May flowers, then May flowers bring pilgrims! Wow, that's a terrible joke. I guess that saying means that some bad things actually bring about better things.

Kevin Rose, for example, was a TV personality on Tech TV before the network was bought by G4. When G4 bought TechTV, they fired many of the people that worked there, including Kevin Rose.

Down on his luck and unemployed, Kevin used all of his savings to create the social networking news site known as Digg. Kevin had a decent size fan base, including me, that joined his site. The website used Google AdSense, so the more people that visited his site, the more money he made.

With the money he made from Digg, he started a sort of online video network known as Revision3. Digg is now the number one user submitted news site in the world. Revision 3 is one of the most viewed tech video sites, with shows such as Diggnation (number one tech video podcast according to iTunes).

And now Mr. Rose is a millionaire.

Tony

I was surprised at the emotion I felt from this short video so I wanted to share a father's journey for a teddy bear named Tony.

A Monkeychip Tale

You may recall the story about the bumblebears, but that isn't the first word I've made up. I renamed chipmunks "monkeychips" as a child. Like all furry creatures--I loved the little guys.

So of course when I found Pepper the dog barking at a monkeychip she'd chased and trapped in a bucket, I wanted to save it. The bucket was about half full of sand, so it was too full for Pepper to knock over, but not full enough for the monkeychip to be close to the rim (and within reach).

Pepper was strong, especially when in pursuit, and I was just a kid. I tried to pull her away, but couldn't overpower her. So I got a dog biscuit (always a surefire bribe) and tried to lure her away. She had none of it. She continued to bark, growl, and paw at the bucket.

My parents had enough sense to keep me from getting too close to the wild, even though I wanted to feed all the furry creatures by hands. I grew up in Colorado, see, where we often had wild bears and mountain lions in my backyard (literally) and where I'd hopped over my share of rattlers sunning themselves on hiking trails. You're liable to have some problems if you don't keep a proper distance.

So I was trying to think of another plan without getting too close and leaned over the bucket to assess the situation. I'd never seen a flying monkeychip before, but in an instant, all four monkeychip paws were clinging to my shirt. I felt the claws on my chest and saw the little guy looking up at me--inches away from my face. I screamed and shook my shirt like you do when you're trying to get crumbs off. That's what you call instinct.

When the monkeychip hit the ground, it made easy prey. I was left to watch Pepper chomp the monkeychip I'd tried to save. Pepper had instincts too.

The last thing I saw was its tail.

Frontline Ink Logo!

Thank you FHP! You do good work!

"The Irony of Hybrid Cars" by William P.

Most people that buy these "earth friendly" cars think they're doing the environment such a big favor. The truth is that the companies use tons of fuel just to make the batteries used in these cars. Then the cars are shipped out on eighteen wheelers, which also use a large amount of fuel.

With that said, there are also many benefits to owning a hybrid. They get way better gas mileage, which means less fuel to buy, so you can use all of the money you saved to buy more useless, overpriced, American junk. They also emit less pollution in the air. Great idea? Yes. The answer to global warming? No.

According to a new study, cows are now the number one reason for global warming. So what now? Are they going to make hybrid cows?

100 Words or Fewer

I'm writing a story in 100 words or fewer. It's harder than you'd think.

Saying You're Sorry in the 21st Century

The movie "Love Story" made this line famous: "Love means never having to say you're sorry." Of all the assinine love quotes, this one's gotta top the list.

I say I'm sorry to my friends, my roomies, my clients...I'd even say it to my dog if I had one.

This is where the text phenomenon comes in handy (pun intended). The text message eliminates the sweaty palms and stumbling first words: "Hey, ummmmmmm, well, see, the thing is. Yeah, hey, uhhhhh. Soooooo, uh, can we talk?"

No more working up the courage to knock on someone's door. You can apologize from the next room using carefully chosen words with exactly the right amount of humility and humor, "Srry I threw a pizza at ur face. bff 4evr? :)"

You can sit on the same couch and let your thumbs do all the work. You write "Hey, sorry I snapped at you earlier. It wasn't personal. Hugs!" Voila--reconciled.

Or, you can sit across the table from each other with a crowd of oblivious guests between. Eventually, you both look up, cell phones still glowing, give a wink or a smile, and move on.

God bless the text message for making it easier to say you're sorry--frequently and sincerely--in the 21st century.

T-Shirt Slogans

This is a cool site for t-shirts with witty slogans. I happen to enjoy the shirts, but I really like the fact that I can submit my own slogans and maybe even get paid for them.

Oddly enough, grammar seems to be my recurring theme. Unfortunately, grammar lessons don't seem to have the same appeal as Chuck Norris jokes.

"The Neverending Story" by guest writer, Roboto

When I was a kid, one of my favorite movies was "The Neverending Story." Brilliance! If you ask anyone if that's a good movie their response will be, "I LOVE that movie." Unless of course their response is, "Actually, I never saw it." Which is easily combated with, "WHAT?!?! Oh man, it's great! Let's watch it sometime!" Here's where the trouble begins.

I recently had the chance to watch that movie again with some friends--all of us in love with it except for one who hadn't seen it. Popcorn was popped, shoes thrown off, and couches circled. Everyone was nice and cozy. After we giggled about the cheesy 80s effects, we settled in for the long haul to greatness. During the following hour and a half, I realized that this was a terrible movie with some shining moments. I mean stinky terrible. Seriously, Bastion (main character and lovable loner reading in the school's attic), actually talks to his sandwich at one point. After two bites, he speaks to it as he puts it away, "No....we've got a looooong way to go."

Wow, it was a real stinker.

Now, that's not to say I don't still love the movie. I think it's actually cinematic gold. It did its job of entertaining children and leaving a long-lasting impression. Just the fact that we thought it was brilliant and lovingly remembered it proved what a great movie it truly is.

This retrospect started because I went to a Mexican restaurant this week...wait, I'm sorry, a "Mexican" restaurant which hardly any of my friends like. They all complain that it's not authentic Mexican food. I chuckle to myself a bit every time they say that because I was raised on rice and beans at least three times per week. I'm a for-real for-real Mexican. I love it too, but that's another day.

Anyway, I happen to really enjoy this restaurant. I have had good memories and great experiences. I can even say that I have always enjoyed their food. So I went there with a mission: to prove how authentic and delicious their food is and once and for all say it to all my friends. I wanted to stand up for their AUTHENTIC Mexican cooks and staff. By a friend's recommendation, I ordered the Mexican Chicken. Again, that's where the trouble began.

Let's just say that I have fond memories of this restaurant and that it's...pleasant. Americanized? Sure, but hey, we're in America and it's tough to find non-Americanized Mexican food. (*By the way, an enchirito from Taco Bell...NOT real Mexican food.) After going back and eating one more time to prove my point that it's good food, I've settled on simply saying that it's a Mexican restaurant...without the quotation marks.

The Neverending Story = (This unnamed) Mexican restaurant.

Two Things I Already Knew, but Confirmed by Experience Today

Trying to clear a yard and sidewalk of three inches of leaves with only a push broom and a rake that falls off its handle every few minutes is not very effective.

Savasana (relaxation pose) in yoga should be called nap-inducing pose.

Love Is the Sweetest Music

Love stories make for some great music. I'm thinking "Gift of a Thistle" from Braveheart and "Justin Returns to the House" from The Constant Gardener, among others. In Slumdog, it's "Latika's Theme" that strikes a chord and moves the soul.

But it's not the only noteworthy song on the Slumdog soundtrack. "Ringa Ringa" will make you want to paint your hands with henna and dance with your thumbs and middle fingers together.

And if it doesn't make you want to dance, it will at least make housecleaning go a bit quicker.

My Second Year Walking the Edmund Pettus Bridge

On March 7th, 1965, a crowd of civil rights marchers (led by John Lewis and Hosea Williams) walked over the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma, Alabama. There, they were met by a sea of men in blue who beat them with billy clubs, chased them on horseback and temporarily blinded them with tear gas.

The day became known as Bloody Sunday and it brought national attention and support to the Voting Rights Movement.

Today, I joined the 44th annual celebration of the day that precipitated the passage of the Voting Rights Act of 1965.

Two years ago, Barack Obama spoke at Brown Chapel. Last year, t-shirts promoted his candidacy.

This year, t-shirts celebrated the election of America's 44th president.

A Dog's Life

This just in, your dog can now get "massages, happy hours, and monogrammed towels" at fine hotels everywhere. No seriously. Thank goodness, because I don't know what Fido would do if he didn't know which towel was his.

"Because It's Friday" by William P.

My only question about this post involves the title but we'll save the discussion on semantics for another day.

"Random Post that Makes No Sense Because It's Friday"

Tony ran 138,000 miles to the planet Mars to get a glass of lemonade. When he arrived he realized that he forgot to put his socks on so he ran all the way back to Earth and robbed a bank. With the money he stole, he bought the first season of Friends, a tiger, five hundred blank DVDs, a jar of peanut butter, 108 gallons of Pepto Bismol, and a single pair of tube socks.

He put on the socks, ran back to Mars, made a turkey sandwich and finally poured his glass of lemonade. Then he took a sip and realized that it was unsweetened. He was horrified. "Unsweetened, refreshing beverage? This is madness," he said as he clenched his fists with the great fury of a thousand lions. Then out of nowhere appeared a red Power Ranger. He looked at Tony and said, "No, THIS IS SPARTA!!!" They sat there looking at each other for about 35 minutes, then all of the sudden they were eaten by a wild pack of vicious dogs.

The End

Slumdog Millionaire

Since I tend to let societal fads pass by without notice, I was late to get on board the Slumdog train. I'm glad I didn't miss it altogether though because this is one craze worth its weight in Oscar gold.

I'll try to refrain from spoiling the story in my enthusiasm, but if my intentionally vague description isn't enough to convince you to see it, take the Academy Award folks at their word and give it a go anyway.

Slumdog Millionaire is about an orphan (Jamal) and his two companions (brother-- Salim and fellow orphan--Latika) who grow up in India surrounded by poverty and an unlimited supply of villains who want to exploit the kids for their selfish gain. The movie takes a front-row seat to life in the slums as the main characters face all the circumstances you'd expect for penniless and motherless children. And some you wouldn't expect too. These are the ones where you remind yourself that somehow, Jamal makes it to young adulthood and to the game show stage that provides the flashbacks to his life.

Jamal maintains a certain purity in his character--enough that he covers his eyes when Latika gets out of the shower, but not enough to keep him from swindling gullible Americans. He also maintains a clear conscience that allows him to give honest (and often cheeky) answers to inquisitor and game show host alike.

The characters' respective decisions--often heartbreaking, often surprising, and sometimes funny--separate and reunite the trio many times over. In the final reunion, you find the answer to the first question the movie presents:
"Jamal Malik is one question away from winning 20 million rupees. How did he do it?
a) He cheated
b) He is lucky
c) He's a genius
d) It is destiny"

Slumdog Millionaire reminds me of The Shawshank Redemption in that it earns its hope and the redemption for which it is named through the suffering, not in spite of it.

Slumdog offers hope, love and redemption. All three are well-earned.

Quirks

Roboto is one quirky fella', as demonstrated by yesterday's post. In addition to the thrill he gets from square roots, Roboto insists on having only white plastic hangers in his closet. I wonder if he has to count them for square root compliance? Any other color causes the same *shudder* as prime numbers and the mere suggestion of wire hangers is grounds for termination of friendship.

I find quirks endearing, puzzling and occasionally a bit inconvenient. Always though, they are fascinating. I'll now turn my writer's eye to the quirks around me and bring them to my beloved readers for future entertainment.

Stay tuned. And don't be surprised if Roboto's name continues to pop up.

Hooray for Square Root Day!!! by guest writer, Roboto

Do you know what bothers me most about flies? Not that they land on you and supposedly throw up or that they’re dirty and irritating. It’s not even that when one hovers around you it makes you all self conscious as if people are looking at you wondering, “Geez, I wonder why that guy didn’t shower today…”

Though irksome, those qualities pale in comparison with what bothers me most about flies– the randomness of their flight. There’s no pattern to what they do! Long flight, short flight, short, short, long, buzz, wing-flap, long, long, hidden somewhere, short, buzz, etc. GAHHHH!!!

It’s randomness that bothers me--when things don’t wrap themselves up into nice, neat little packages. It’s the wobbly stool or the lid that just doesn’t quite fit just right.

And then a gift such as today comes. I was reminded by two friends that today is Square Root Day. To put it plainly, 3 X 3 = 9 (today’s date: 3/3/09), or the square root of 9 is 3.

Now we’re talking perfection. Look at how perfect that is! The SAME number multiplied by ITSELF equals…well, it equals beauty, quite frankly. We’re talking division with no remainders. I mean three teams consisting of three people each. Nobody’s left out. No team resigned to say, “Fine, we’ll take the fourth person,” or opposition to say, “That’s not FAIR! Why do THEY get 4 people?!?” You couldn’t wipe the smile off my face today if you tried.

Square roots are mathematical beauty. They are the numeric equivalent of coloring inside the lines. Square roots, and conversely squared numbers, are like getting out of your car and realizing you parked perfectly…evenly spaced on both sides. Ever go to the store and get a thrill when they tell you your total is $12.00 EXACTLY, including tax? You know that little extra smile that brings you? Yeah, that’s what Square Root Day does for me.

Now, I know you might be thinking, wow, this guy really loves math. Yes, I do. I’ll own up to it. I’m an unabashed math nerd. And it’s days like today, and the other eight Square Root Days that happen every century, that make up for all the times someone leaves the radio or TV volume fixed on a prime number. *shudder*

HAPPY SQUARE ROOT DAY!!

A Dream Black and White

Once upon a time in a dream black and white,
a golden-haired puppy trembled with fright--
whether chasing or fleeing, it's hard to say,
but this pup's in a hurry, we know, either way.
His gait was gentle as he pawed through the air,
but then he was urgent to get quickly there.
He stirred from his sleep with a bark and a leap
And ran with such force, no longer asleep.

A Whistling Responsibility

Yes, that's right, I'm with the band. And now I have an added responsibility--a whistling one.

I've always dabbled in whistling, but I never expected to have an audience of 900 which is exactly what I'll have on April 23rd and 29th.

In fewer than ten measures, I am to add to the country western ambiance of "One More Angel in Heaven," in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat.

My lips are poised and my chapstick is ready.