"Do you work out?"

(All parties involved mentioned in the following story are referred to strictly by nickname. Except for my own. I don't give a crap, you already know who I am. Carry on...)

Some of my readers already know this story. Some may only know enough to joke along with me about the fact that I work out regularly. The rest of you have no idea why it would even be worth joking me for...until now. I will preface this story by saying that, if I had no witnesses to the event, I'd have taken this to the grave. Unfortunately, there was a Scotsman nearby that I know would never let me live it down. Luckily for me, I can take just as much as I dish out, so I let it be known I can handle it when I get joked on for it. So without further ado...

I'm drawing a blank on the exact date, but I know it was either the last week of January or the first week in February. All I remember is it was like Leona Helmsley outside...cold, bitter, and unforgiving. Spring resets were just starting at Home Depot, and three of us were sent to assist the Williamsburg, VA store for two days. Biff, the Scotsman and I were assigned the bay of Echo trimmers and all of the walk-behind mower bays. The first day was spent mainly on the trimmer bay, which was quite the labyrinth to figure out on the first shot. That reminds me: I'll have to tell everyone Biff's take on condoms after this story is complete. Oh, and the break time that a bird had an interesting way of sending the Scotsman a message. That's right...I'm not the only one who came away with a story to tell. Anyway, day two...mowers, which is where things got interesting.

I want to try to set the stage for you. Originally, these mowers were set on a very slight incline and had a shelf just above the handle for overstock. Our task was to remove the overstock shelf entirely, install a new background banner (which the Scotsman and I did in 10 of 12 stores...not fun at all), set the mowers at a steeper incline so they are better viewed by customers from the floor, and then setting the displays, tagging, etc. When it came to removing the shelves and installing the banners, we were high enough in the overhead that it was wise to have a full body harness and a safety lanyard to prevent any slip and fall accidents. The more important aspect as far as this story goes is not the safety part, but rather that when you are strapped in and working up there, you really have nowhere to go. You're like a dog on a leash that's attached to a clothesline, except you have about 8 feet to roam and it's a little more...physically constricting.

So I'm up there, harnessed in, doing my thing. The Scotsman is at ground level prepping the tools we need to put the banner up. Associates in aprons are walking around aimlessly, focused more on supervising our actions than worrying about helping customers/driving sales. An elderly man (had to be in his 80s) is looking at light bulbs and is looking around for anyone to help. He spots me in the overhead, sees my orange polo, and here's what followed:

Old Guy: "I see that you're busy, but I was hoping you could help me with something..."

Me: "Sure, how can I help you sir?"

O: (Holding a different light bulb in each hand) "Which one of these is brighter?"

Me: (Pointing to a nearby fixture) "Well there's a display right there, you can actually place your hand underneath each light to see which one you like the best."

O: "Oh my, I didn't even see that...thank you so much, you've been so helpful!"

Me: "No problem sir, you have a good day!"

He takes a minute or two to decide, picks one, heads toward the registers and I'm left there thinking 'case closed'...

I was so wrong.

He meanders on back to me, and my life changed forever...

O: "Sir, you were so helpful before, I was just hoping you could help me again..."

Me: "Absolutely, what are you looking for?"

O: "Do you know where I can find water filters for a refrigerator?"

Me: "If you head back toward our appliance department, there should be a rack near the fridge displays that has all of the different filters to choose from...there should be an associate in the area to help you pick the right one."

O: "Thank you so much again, you have been a great help! On a more personal note, you look like someone I'd like to be a friend of..."

Me: (????????) "Oh yeah?"

O: "Yea, because you look like you work out...do you work out?"

Me: (???????????????) "...sort of..."

O: (Smiles sheepishly as he slowly walks away...)

So after you're done laughing, all I can say is I was hit on by an 80-something year old man in Williamsburg, VA. How many people can say that? Just this guy. I wish that weren't the case, but such is life. As I said, I get joked on for obvious reasons, but I find it rather amusing when someone asks for my help and I make sure to reference that it must be because I work out. There's really only two things you can take from a story like this: you need to be able to laugh at yourself, even when it may bother you...that and be very wary of old men in Williamsburg.

So off of me, and onto the other short stories. First Biff. The three of us are working on putting banners up for the trimmer bay, and we find that two of the banners are too wide for the spots they are meant to be, so we have to make adjustments to said banners to fit the dimensions as necessary. After a couple of cuts and bends, we completed the task the best we could. Biff, who makes off-color jokes that he is actually famous for amongst the team, then says, "You just need to fit it to the shape of the bay...kinda like a form-fitting condom." The Scotsman and I exchange puzzled looks, to which Scotty replies, "Aren't they all...?" Biff walked away with a smirk on his face. Classic Biff moment.

Finally, the Scotsman and I were outside on our break so he could smoke. We're standing by his white VW GTI, just chatting it up, when we both notice birds beginning to migrate from a wooded area nearby. I don't mean like 20 or 30 birds...we're talking thousands. That is no exaggeration, there were tens of thousands of birds flying overhead. The amazement of the sheer volume of birds just kept our attention. After about 5 minutes of this, something suddenly hits the hood of his car and falls to his feet. We look down at the object: a piece of chewing gum. Another exchange of puzzled looks ensued. We drew up a few conclusions:

1) The bird saw a nice clean car, didn't have to take a crap, so instead drops some random object on his car out of spite.

2) The bird believed Scotty had bad breath. It was just a more direct way of telling him.

3) Both of the aforementioned.

All in all, the reset was not fun, but it sure had interesting moments that we'll never forget. And if we do forget, we'll always have someone to remind us...

THE END

Old Guy

Biff

The Scotsman

Me

D.

T.A.O.C. Part I

The people that come up with names for carpet colors...


The music artists that think it's a good idea to have children providing background voices...


The people that make commercials for the likes of Target, Olive Garden and online colleges...


The people that determine what they consider to be a reasonable minimum wage...


Can you guess what they all have in common?

That's right, they're all on crack.


We'll start with the carpet (that's what she said...). It would be silly of me to criticize the fact that many of them are named after foods, spices of flavors. Names like 'cookies and cream', 'hazelnut', 'sugar cookie', 'vanilla', and 'chili powder' don't really bother me, given in most cases they actually resemble their respective colors. No, there are some others that may need to be reconsidered. Take 'breathe easy' for instance...a dark gray carpet with a hint of brown. Please tell me: what about that color would make you breathe easy? It would be better named 'cigarette smoke'...or 'smog'. Or how about the off-white/tan colored carpet 'barefoot'? Not all bare feet look like that. In fact, I'm going to go ahead and say that's downright racist. Then there's 'brown alpaca', an off-white shag with specks of black and tan. I'm still not sure where the brown factors in. Finally, my personal favorite, a carpet that I think is simply taupe, has been curiously named 'male'. Here we go again with the racist theme. Not only would I conclude that not all males are of that color, but I'd say that's not exactly commonly found. On a crackhead scale of 1 to Tyrone Biggums, I'd give them a 6. Not enough to be overly concerned about.


Next we'll tackle the music artists that think it's a good idea to put creepy kids' voices in any song of their choosing. I'll begin with my one exception: Pink Floyd - Another Brick In The Wall. Sure, call me biased because I'm a fan of their music and just fond of many types of rock in general, but Pink Floyd had a purpose behind their music. They had a message. That, and they weren't on crack, they were on acid. I'm talking strictly crack here, folks. Even Roger Waters and David Gilmour wouldn't touch that crap. I digress...my first example would be Mudvayne's 'Choices'. A little on the heavier side of rock, so clickers beware. During the breakdown sections before each chorus, there are children monotonously singing "Eenie Meenie Miney Moe". The band is creepy enough on their own, they don't need any help from the children of the corn making it sound even more grim. They are a band that has outstanding drum and bass, I just wish they would have stuck with their strong suits. Next, Stevie Wonder's "Isn't She Lovely?". He mixed in recordings of his baby girl crying in the background. Now, as sweet and adorable the idea may be, there's not much on this earth that could be quite as irritating than to have a classy song mixed with colic. There are plenty more to mention, but you get my drift. Crackhead scale: 7.


On to commercials. It's becoming clear now that instead of trying to create an amusing, comical, memorable commercial in order to sell a particular product, these companies have gone the route of shock value. "How absurd can we make this look so that people will remember our brand?" Well, the limit has evidently not been reached. Target feels the need to overpower the screen with...you guessed it...targets!! Circling, weaving, expanding across your television, just in case you forgot which store it was advertising. Olive Garden would rather punish it's viewers with worse acting and line delivery than a Billy Baldwin movie. Their commercials attack your brain cells, decimate IQ points, and unquestionably leave you wondering why you actually want to spend money at a place that could endorse their product with such terrible representation. My last sampling of horrendous promotion, I will leave you with this video of some online university. It has left me speechless, and not in a good way. Pathetic doesn't quite cover it. Crackhead scale: 9.5.


Finally, I will briefly examine minimum wage. Briefly, because I may be able to make a single blog entry on this one topic alone. $7.25/hr. Is that even justifiable? Even in a state with a reasonable average cost of living, this is not a realistic number. After the taxes are drained from the measly paycheck you'd receive, how can anyone expect you to financially keep your head above water? I understand "it's a tough economy" and whatever other assorted excuses you want to throw out there, but in order to have a better economy, it would help to have some better circulation of money so these people can spend it on things other than bills. Corporate greed is astronomical, and it's all the little people busting their tails to help their companies flourish that rarely see a dime of that profit. Then they expect these people to work at 110% when their rate of pay is accompanied by a slap in the face. Once again, there is plenty more to say, but for the government to establish a rate that low, it must be under the influence of something. Crackhead scale: 11...HUMMINA HUMMINA HUMMINA!!!


My advice...stay off drugs, kids.


D.

If I were Stephen Strasburg...

...I'd start exploring options outside of DC.


That's easy for me to say...sitting on the couch, sipping a beer, and mulling over my next meal. Given the track record of teams like the Yankees, Red Sox, Angels and Phillies, I find it hard to believe they won't sit him down and slide over a contract of some astronomical value to lure him their way. The Nationals will have the opportunity to match any offer if they feel they can afford it, or even if they feel he's worth it. My opinion of this matter is not expert by any means, but I can assure you I did the research and crunched the numbers to base it off of. Here's what I've come up with...


Strasburg was quite possibly the most hyped player coming out of college and the minor leagues. This was for good reason, considering the stats were downright intimidating. When you see the minor league numbers, and notice the 2011 numbers where his ERA spiked up for 3 starts, just remember this was following his surgery and nearly a one-year layoff from pitching. You can't blame the guy for needing to shake off the rust. 


The surgery I'm referring to is of course Tommy John Surgery, which if you don't know much about, it is possibly the most revolutionary procedure to bring an injured athlete back to playing shape. There are a couple of downfalls, like the 12-18 months it takes to recover or the possibility of needing multiple procedures, but more often than not, the end result has all but proven to benefit the recipients after a full recovery. 


Strasburg has proven he is no exception to that trend. He has lowered his career ERA and raised his winning percentage since returning, and is currently leading the National League in strikeouts. This is especially intriguing since the Nationals' front office is limiting Strasburg's innings pitched for the season. 


That fact leads me to one of my main arguments. This year, the Nationals are a surprise division leader/playoff contender, and are showing no signs of slowing down. With an 11-4 record, he is clearly doing his part. The problem is once he nears the 160 innings-pitched mark for the season, they will consider shutting him down for the rest of the regular season. Their main concern is the health of their star pitcher. Although I do understand their reasoning, I do not agree with that decision whatsoever.


First of all, he has shown no sign of strain or pain. If there was some tightness or discomfort in any way, I'd be the first to say take the time to get him back to 100%. Otherwise, I'm keeping my best pitcher in the rotation. At the current pace, Strasburg will hit the 160 inning mark by the end of August or very early September. With the division race as tight as it is right now, only to get more intense down the stretch, they want to pull their most talented commodity in the fear that he might hurt himself? Every player that steps on the field on a daily basis runs that risk. They're making a big deal of nothing. He's not the first player to ever have the surgery, and none of these other pitchers have had this restriction forced on them. Consider this possibility: what if the Nationals lose the division and miss the wild card due to a poor finish to September? Clearly it's not one player that would change that outcome alone, but one could argue that it could be a major contributing factor. I wouldn't want to take that risk.


Knowing how I am as an athlete and a competitor, the last thing I would ever want is to sit on the bench when I know I could be doing more to assist my team in winning. If Strasburg does not feel that way, then he deserves to be on the bench, but judging by the numbers, it's obvious he wants to win. I'm wondering if he's keeping the peace with the front office until free agency comes along. That's what I'd be doing. Pace myself, go out there and do what I'm paid to do, then when I'm on the market, test the waters a little. See who may be willing to give me a boatload of cash while not holding me back in the process. It would be a shame to have to wait until 2017 (when he is eligible), but where's the harm in window shopping at the very least?


Even though it is too early to say definitively, it is possible that holding him back could come back to bite them later. Unless this team remains a true threat to win the World Series in the next few years, the Nationals could be making a bad decision for their long term success. It won't be the first poor decision made by management of a DC sports franchise (see Daniel Snyder).


It's refreshing to see a team like this show promise, so it would be a damn shame to see that fade away. Let's hope, for the sake of good old-fashioned, hard-nosed baseball, that they know what they're doing.


D.

'Step Up'...please step down.

It has been a long time since I have seen a movie advertised this much during commercial breaks of practically anything I have watched in the last couple weeks. I will start off by saying that I never had any interest in seeing a single moment of these movies, so I will admit there is some bitterness laced in with my commentary to follow.


Step Up Revolution is the fourth of a series of these dance movies to come out. One thing you can derive from this fact is that any movie series is made because of a certain following. In this case, it's break dancing and just a general appreciation of dance and choreography as a whole. With this in mind, I will not be naive or ignorant enough to deny these dancers' talent. Would you like to know why I don't dance? It's because I can't. I suck at it. Badly. If a bad dancer has two left feet, then I must have two broken ones. So I rarely try. I will also put it out there that, yes, I am jealous that they are making so much money, much like any other person making millions of dollars. Everybody making a substandard wage should be jealous of that sort of income, so it's not like I'm in the minority there.


With that said...


Are you f'n serious? I mean...given I've been subjected to the 30 second trailer about 50 times in the past 10-15 days. That's an estimated 25 full minutes that I could be spending my time doing something more productive: clipping my toenails, trying to follow a single fan blade with my eyes as it spins at full speed, counting the threads on a nearby blanket, you know...that sort of stuff. Based solely on this trailer, I will give a detailed breakdown of why this could be not only one of the worst movies of the year, why it could be the worst of the series (without even having to see any of the first three), but also why you should not spend your hard-earned money on the hope that it would be worth more than $10 a ticket.


The most frequent complaint I have heard about movie trailers is that some of the most memorable scenes/lines are delivered to the general public by way of these trailers before the movie is even released. Then you go see the movie, and you come out thinking that half of the good parts were spoiled thanks to a commercial break from whatever you were watching at the time. Whether it's a witty one-liner from a comedy, a sudden shock-value moment from a horror flick, or a major explosion/fight sequence from an action film, you feel slightly robbed of the element of surprise when it happens in the theater. A major reason you feel this way is because these moments have some legitimate quality/meaning to the movie. It makes sense that they would though. These studios need to sell you on wanting to go see it, so they have to show you some 'teaser' moments, so to speak. If they showed you 30 seconds of bad lines and a background voice telling you when it's coming out, you wouldn't want to see it.


The reason I mention all of this is because the trailer for Step Up Revolution could easily be the worst of it's kind in order to attract more moviegoers. It's quite evident that when you cast for a movie that is structured around dancing and overrated pop music, the acting talent takes a back seat. The back seat of a school bus. We're talking way down at the bottom of the list of priorities. Personally I can't sit through a movie where I can't buy into the character because they are incapable of delivering a single believable line. The only words spoken on this trailer seemed like they were being read off a teleprompter. Better yet, it was comparable to one of those local law office commercials where you can see their eyes following the lines and they speak at a near monotone level. I can't imagine the first three movies of this series were acted out any better, but this showed an obvious absence of concern in that department.


As for the dancing, once again, it requires a lot of talent to do what they do. Honestly, what is the appeal of 99 minutes of exactly that? That it didn't hit triple digits for runtime? Possibly. Really though, dance moves can only vary so much, and it mostly has to do with the pace and flow of the song itself. With that in mind, I have come up with a theory of sorts. A movie centered around dancing, most sequences likely lasting the entirety of each song, my guess is there is a deal struck up between the producers and the artists of the songs in which they profit more for soundtrack sales in the hopes that their own records see a spike in sales. My blog, my theory.


Production value is also something to consider. How much money goes into closing off a few busy streets and a few cars with hydraulics? They will have made their money back if they manage to sell out a 150 seat theater. Obviously I'm exaggerating, but it's no wonder they profit no matter what. When your producers toss in pocket change and fool a portion of the general public into thinking it could be a good movie, of course they will obliterate their film budget. If you think that's worth the already overpriced ticket, be my guest. I'll gladly pass.


I challenge you to find a movie that has been promoted this much, yet has no promise of being any good, to trump this one as far as being a total box office failure. The numbers may not suggest that when they quadruple their budget, but that would still just be a drop in the bucket for a motion picture. Give me some feedback, I'm curious to find out if I'm the only one who feels this way.


Signing out.


D.

The Reamer Concept

Just to clarify, there is no typo in my blog title. It's an insiders' play-on-words, so I will attempt to make sense of the 'reamer concept' for my readers.


I would have just linked the urban dictionary definition for you, but in case you're unfamiliar with their entries, there are some foul, crude, downright filthy interpretations of (un)common slang, including their version(s) of reamer. For those with a sick sense of humor and overwhelming curiosity, feel free to take a peek. For the rest, I was introduced to the 'reamer concept' during my freshman college days, and it has taken on entirely new meanings through the years. Here's a brief rundown:


Reamer can be a very versatile word. Typically, it is used to describe a particular person or a particular feature of said person, usually a male (this is not meant to exclude women, it's just that men seem to better fit the description because more often than not, they make worse life choices...just saying). During many bouts of people-watching, it can be used to point out a certain person's self-imposed flaws. A mullet is a perfect example. If you crossed paths with Billy Ray in public, one could say:

"Damn dude, look at the hillbilly reamer that guy's got!"

Facial hair and it's (lack of) maintenance is also subject to this description. I would post a second descriptive picture, but luckily Billy Ray was kind enough to provide us with both in this one, to which your friend could reply:

"Yea man, and a razor could really do that reamer some justice too."

Sometimes it's as simple as a wardrobe choice gone horribly wrong, and to describe the outfit just simply will not suffice. That is when the person in question then becomes the reamer.

Honestly, this needs no caption. Richard Simmons transcends almost every variation of reamer you could come up with. I narrowed the choice of photo down to either him or Elton John. Want to know the biggest difference between the two of them? I respect Elton John for possessing legitimate talent. Simmons had the same fat women on his workouts from beginning to end, yet none of them showed a shred of improvement. It was Simmons' eccentricity and aggravatingly flamboyant lifestyle that made his fame last. People fell for it, period. He sucks, and that's what makes him a reamer. That, and his fashion sense.

These are the more frequent uses of the term. There are plenty of more tame, in-passing ways of describing someone or something as a reamer:

A comedian

"That's one funny ass reamer!"

A terrible waiter

"I asked that reamer for some more sweet tea like ten minutes ago, where the hell is he?!"

A teacher/professor

"This reamer doesn't even know the subject he's attempting to teach..."

To sum up, in this context it's an easy replacement noun, almost like a pronoun that only you and those associated with you realize who/what you're pointing out. Many of your average eavesdroppers will have no idea what you're talking about, which can be an added bonus: leaving dullards in suspense.

You can also use it to emphasize how pointless/annoying/lame something is.

"We're indoors; why is he still wearing that reamer scarf?"

"I wish this guy would stop rambling and carry his reamer ass on out of here."

"I can't sit through another minute of this reamer Ben Affleck flick, he's terrible!"

There are many applications for this term, and as far as I'm concerned, the future possibilities are endless. So feel free to play around with it, see what you can come up with the next time a life situation fits the context.

Reamer, out.

D.

In the beginning...

I have a million thoughts running through my mind. On a good day. Through persuasion and an urge to be heard, I have decided to make my thoughts public. For future reference, these are my opinions/ideas/thoughts/complaints/reviews/recommendations based purely on what I see, hear, or experience, and I do not expect everyone to agree with me. I get some personal fulfillment knowing I could possibly entertain others with the merry-go-round of things I ponder about.

So my first post is my "disclaimer" of sorts. If I feel it is post-worthy, then I will always share. I hope you enjoy what you read. If you do not, I am humble enough to accept criticism, but please...be gentle.

Here's to you fine folks. Happy reading.

D.