Those Damn High Notes

Happy Hump Day Everyone! Most people hate Wednesdays, but I love them. About the time of day I usually say to myself, "today sucks," I remember that Wednesdays are Lost nights.

This season has been especially good. And I appreciate ABC keeping the show on throughout the season without repeats. That helps to keep my Wednesdays the best day of the week. No idea what I'll do when the season is over - we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Something happened to me last week. I lost my voice - no, it was not on a deserted island. I have been hoarse before, but I have never lost my voice completely like I did last week.

I had a 2 hour drive from Cincinnati to Louisville and then back again in one day. If you have never had the pleasure of making this drive, let me tell you - it is awful. There is literally nothing for 2 hours. On this particular trip, I got reacquainted with my Pop Mix CD. Prince and I had several jam sessions with Little Red Corvette, where I showed him how to hit the high notes.

Well, my voice is almost back to normal today. Although I may be in for a relapse. While taking the kids to daycare today, what popped on my XM dial - 69 Boyz with Tootsee Roll. They are both still young enough for me to make an ass of myself in front of them without embarrassing them.

To the Left, to the left. To the Right, to the right. To the Front, to the front. To the Back, to the back. Now Dip Baby! Come on now dip!

I am off to see if The World's Largest Retailer is displaying my products like they are supposed to. For my voices sake, I plan on listening to talk radio and XM Comedy all day.

And a video to boot! Have a great rest of the week!

No sure what country these crazy things are from, but they'd probably cause me some problems too!




Baba Ganoush Out!

March Madness - Try Coaching Madness

Since my bracket is already practically worthless, I figured I'd take this time to do a little blogging. In the spirit of March Madness, I thought I'd share a little story with you.

Shortly after graduating from IU, I took a volunteer position coaching Bloomington Indiana's Special Olympic basketball team. I had some experience working with this population, and with my athletic background, I was an easy choice as a Co-Head Coach.

This particular team had won the state championship the previous 2 years. Needless to say, there was some degree of pressure and expectation that came with this position.

Coaching was another story altogether. While trying to teach a proper bounce pass, I also had to deal with the guy, who's first words to me were, "I'm Jordan, just get me the ball. I'm Jordan." Getting this guy to not shoot every time he touched the ball was a full time job in and of itself.

While trying to teach the fundamentals of a 1-2-2 Zone Full Court Press Defense, I had to keep the guy focused, who had no idea what deodorant and/or a shower was.

During games, making sure everyone played was always a challenge. Especially when our Jr. Bobby Knight would throw a chair onto the court. Something he'd do at lease 3 times a game.

You think the AAU parents are bad? You think the soccer mom is tough to deal with. You haven't seen anything until you've dealt with one of these psycho parents.

Yeah, I know, a lot of pressure. Good thing we had our secret weapons. We had 3 guys on our team that were just really stupid. Really stupid. Stupid to the point where the state of Indiana considered them to have an actual disability. Great for me though. I'd stagger their minutes so that I had at least 2 of them on the floor at all times.

I remember our very first game. There was this guy on the other team with one normal arm, and then one chicken wing arm that he couldn't use at all. Funny thing was, he had a great shot. This guy was going nuts on us. At halftime, we were down 16 points and this guy had most of their points.

During my halftime pep talk, I got a little fired up. In front of the whole team, I challenged our best ringer to guard Chicken Wing the rest of the game. "Everywhere he goes, I want you right there with him. If he goes to the bathroom, you're going with him. If he goes to McDonalds, I want you sitting right next to him." My ringer ate up the attention and my team loved it.

Chicken Wing ended up not scoring again, and we won the game. To this day, I can very clearly remember how pitiful and dejected he looked every time he tried to shoot a one-handed J with my ringer hanging all over him. I got a few punches on my express ticket to hell for that one.

Have a great weekend everyone, and enjoy the games!

Baba Ganoush, OUT.

Have you met my bumper yet?

Police Chases
Murders
Stabbings
Robberies
Crystal Meth Labs

Will my Xbox blow up this weekend?

All reported on within the first 10 minutes of my local 11 o'clock news. Home Sweet Home. Seriously, can someone tell me some happy shit!?!

Finally, some happy news - Georgia truck driver wins $116 Million in lottery. Oh yeah, it's all good now!

Despite the fact that I apparently need to pack heat whenever I leave the house, I generally give people the benefit of the doubt. I try to be friendly to strangers and greet people with a smile. But not always. Sometimes, you need to be overly cautious - or do you? Lemme tell you about a time I wasn't so friendly.

I was on my way home from work on a Friday. I can't remember why, but I was in a great mood. I was driving on a 4 lane road with a grass median. I was part of a pack of cars that included a trucker and a few other cars. I was leading the way with the trucker right behind me.

I had just taken off from a stop light, and I noticed 2 young men, who I can only describe as gang bangers, attempting to jay walk about 50 yards in front of me. I slowed down to make sure they could cross, but it was clear they were running out of time. One of the bangers realized this, and stopped on the grass median.

The other gentleman, on the other hand was a little more bold. He decides he is going to walk in front of oncoming traffic (Your's Truly), come to a complete stop, and mock as if he had a gun and was pointing it at my car telling me to stop.

Like I said, I was in a great mood. But having a cap popped in my ass was not what the big guy was looking for.

So, I swurve to the right in an attempt to go get by him on the shoulder. He is getting closer.

As I swurve, he reacted to where I was and jumped into the shoulder. I react to that and swurve left, but he had already reacted and jumped back into the road. 5 feet away now.

At this point, still worried about getting shot, I make my final reaction and head back to the shoulder - this time hitting the gas. Captain Deathwish, reacts back to the shoulder as well, as he flips over my hood stuntman style.

I pull over, now pissed, because I have just hit a person with my SUV. His friend is screaming, as his buddy lays in the road, unable to get up. The trucker stops, and informs us he's called the police.

Jail time flashes before my eyes. Losing my license flashed before my eyes. Me footing the bill for this ass clown to not get a job for the next 5 years flashes before my eyes.

His buddy puts a cell phone in my face and says - "his mom is on the phone, and wants to talk to the person that hit her son." I graciously decline talking to her until the cops get there. She ends up getting there just after the cops.

In the end, the day was saved by the trucker, who saw everything. He stayed to tell the cops the whole story, and that I had no choice because of the guys actions. The two men (who ended up being 16) got jay walking tickets, and I was sent on my way.

Thinking back, I probably didn't need to step on the gas, but hey, as the 11 o'clock news has taught me, you can never be too careful out there.

Baba Ganoush, OUT.