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A few years ago, I thought it would be a good idea to try out snowboarding. Thinking back on it, I never understood why I would desire to do such a thing and why others live for it. If you think about it, it's totally crazy! You voluntarily lock your feet and ankles into a slippery, narrow board and slide down a mountain of snow and ice, filled with boulders, trees, and other humans while standing up. Fun!  When I first starting learning how to snowboard, the instructor emphasized one thing over and over, "Lean forward." He must have said that at least a hundred times. Leaning forward though was the last thing I wanted to do. When you're standing at the top of a mountain with both feet locked into "The Oval of Death" and you're looking down, the natural thing to do is to lean back. Leaning forward was the John Wayne thing to do, and I felt more like Betty White.  The whole process of just learning how to turn, stop, and not fall was tiring, humili...

Cannonball

Did you ever go to a public pool or attend a pool party and not see at least one kid - or adult for that matter - doing a cannon ball into the water? (For those of you wondering how or why a kid would throw black, iron balls into a pool, you really should get out a little more!) The cannon ball I'm referring to is a diving technique in swimming. Unlike competitive diving techniques, however, its purpose is to maximize rather than minimize splash on water entry. Lesson 1: Leave Your World Wet The cannon ball is dreaded by the readers and sunbathers surrounding the sparkling blue abyss, but to the exerciser of it...pure joy. The bigger the splash and the louder the noise the better. Usually the award is given to the larger or should I say "bigger-boned" individuals. But on rare occasions the skinny kid triumphs with his unconventional and unorthodox style that leaves the other competitors splashes look like rain drops. If you've ever been there and seen it, you know wha...

Dinner Date Table

Did you ever go out to eat and secretly (or unsecretly) study other couples to try and guess how long they’ve been married? It’s interesting to see the chemistry in all its different levels among them. The older couples are quiet and composed with sporadic conversation throughout the meal. They seem to be totally relaxed and at peace, sometimes almost too relaxed, as I’ve witnessed several falling asleep in seemingly mid-sentence (only one of them required a stretcher). The biggest disagreement comes in how much butter is being used on the rolls and how much salt is coming out of the shaker. The younger couples, on the other hand, are animated with arms and elbows flailing as they want the love of their life to get the full visual of their story. They’re wide-eyed and bushy-tailed like they've trained for months for this night. With endless discussion, ice-breakers, and team-building exercises the night is never long enough for this couple. After dessert they’re checking out the br...

Taking our Pork Chops to the Bathroom

Did you know that most people who choke to death do so in the bathroom... alone? (I presume that most of these cases involved men since no women I know dare to enter this room without a herd or two behind them.) Recently, I read of a near-death experience of a man who got a piece of a pork chop lodged in his throat. Guess where he was heading? Luckily, he passed out on his way there, alerting others to come to his rescue. What is it about this room that draws us to it when we're frantically gasping for air? Do we want our last inhales to be of the fresh and invigorating scents that come from the urinal cakes? Or maybe it's the hand dryers that make our flesh look like ocean waves. Maybe we just want to die in the room where everything just seems so right with the world, where the only concern is if it will flush. Okay, so I've taken that as far as it can go (probably a little too far, right?). Let's be real. No one wants to die in a bathroom. Out of all the places i...

Albert

The other day as I was watching ESPN, the news ticker at the bottom of the screen caught my attention. It read, and I'm paraphrasing, "Albert Haynesworth suspended for the final four games due to conduct detrimental to the team." A few minutes later the full story aired and the details left me bewildered, angry, and confused. This guy was a two-time pro-bowler (which means he's really good) and was just signed for a seven-year deal with a guaranteed 40some million-dollar contract. He had the potential to be one of the best defensive tackles to ever play the game. So what happened? How does a player that good, with that much money and talent, with that much going for him get to the place where he's a detriment to the team he's playing for? In a few words, Albert lost his passion and heart for the game. Every player interviewed in response to his suspension agreed that it was the right decision. He refused to go on the field unless the plays were designe...

Sleepwalker

My dad loves to talk about my sleepwalking adventures. Whenever and wherever there are parents reflecting and conversing about their kids, my dad will somehow find a way to be in there throwing and tossing my stories around like pancakes. (Sometimes my dad doesn't realize that others may not want my pancakes, but he serves them anyway.) In any case, yes, I was a sleepwalker. And yes, the stories I'm about to share with you are real, or so I'm told. So just in case my dad hasn't told you yet... In both of the following incidences I was three years old, and I went to bed like any other night. Story: check. Tucked in: check. Prayer: check. To the best of my knowledge, I didn't eat any crazy foods nor was I dropped or elbowed those days. It was typical from sunrise to sunset. And no, my parents didn't rub wild turkey on my lips to help with colic. A Midnight Stroll Were you ever tempted to get out of your comfy bed and just stroll the streets naked? Me neither, but ...

Secure

My family has a tradition. We always get our Christmas tree on Black Friday. It's the earliest you can get one before all the needles fall off just by looking at it wrong. (The week of Christmas I try not to look directly at the tree - always out of the peripheral.) Not only do we get it the same date, but we also get it from the same place which is about thirty minutes away - without the tree on top, of course. Another part of the tradition is showing up at the tree farm totally unprepared and unequipped. Part of the joy is the expressions and stares of others that are there with their gloves, pick-up trucks, roof racks and bungee straps. Some of them probably think we showed up spontaneously as they watch us, in total disbelief, throw a tree on our unprotected car roof without anything to tie it down with. Now, to this point I'm happy with our tradition. But it's here, the part where the tree has to get secured to the car, that I could do without. You would think, that a...