A little piece of the Remix

I can't make any promises.  I was actually not sure that I had a blog anymore until earlier tonight, but I am going to try to give it my best shot and blog on this thing sometimes.

So, this one is for your Craig.

Guys Guide to the Bachelorette: Episode I

I know what you are thinking, and, yes, I am so thankful that the No. 1 comedy in America is back on the air! Seriously.

I have a good friend who makes fun of me for watching trash TV. He is probably right, but, man oh man, he had no idea what he is missing. See, the key to enjoying TV is not to take it seriously. Enjoy it for what it is. It is the kind of suspended consciousness you use while watching wrestling or any romantic comedy in which a guy falls for Drew Barrymore - deep down you know better, but you want to enjoy it.

So, here is my guide for how to enjoy The Bachelorette....

Ashley Hebert, the dental school student/dance enthusiast, was brought back after the Brad Redux Season as this year's Bachelorette. As only the most hardcore fans remember, she kind of flaked out on Brad last season when she ran out of platitudes and lost her mojo from her early season dates that had made her the front runner. Luckily, she is back this season with a new hair color and ready for some fun. Remember, the key to being a good time is a new hair color and wardrobe provided by ABC.

(Sidenote: what kind of dental school lets a student out long enough to appear on not one but two realty shows? Does she go to ITT Tech School of Dentistry?)

I love this show for a couple of reasons. All of which can be summarized as nothing is what it seems.

First, it is a game. The key to the show is ignoring what they are saying and figuring out how they are trying to play the game strategically. In this way, the Bachelorette is superior because the guys are much more blunt about what they want to do. They want to "win" and by "win" I mean get married....sort of. This franchise has a worse marriage record than Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton.

Second, this show runs on cliches. One of my favorite parts of the show is the use of certain cliches as signals of what is going on. With the girls on the Bachelor, they always say that they are "falling" or some derivative of that phrase (Ex. "I might be falling for you" = I want you to pick me over that skank Starlight.....). My personal favorite with the Bachelorette is that the guys always have to justify that they are "here for the right reasons"... I want just once to hear a guy be honest and say they are their for the overnight date in the mystery suite...The real reason anyone comes on is to further an alterior motive - making it fun to guess what these motives are. A couple of seasons back wanna-be bad boy Wes bragged to other guys he was there to help his music career - only later to reveal that he only knew one song which harmed him irreparably. Ignore the love part. It is fake anyway. Its about the game. Think of it like wrestling. Enjoy the story and the skill. Pretend it is real. It is entertainment.

Finally, the unintentional comedy is off the charts.  This show has little to no self-awareness which is just how it should be. Here are people talking about being in love/falling in love while their potential boo is over in the jacuzzi making out with four guys and the lady holding the boom mike. Call me romantic, but that is true love.

One thing to never forget:

Everyone is there for the wrong reasons - they appeared on TV in hopes of finding their soul mate. We might each have our own journey, but I doubt you want to have the convo with your son about how you knew his mother was the one when she made out with you before and after another Fernando and the fact she re-applied her Bert's Bees lip balm before coming back for more smoochin' told you it was for real.

Some Useful Lessons Displayed in Episode 1's Standouts

1. Screen Test: The Butcher: I have never seen someone so completely miscast for a show. Anthony aka The Butcher proved once and for all that you cannot impress a lady by acting like an extra from the Sopranos. He spent the whole night rattling off monologues like he was at an audition for Goodfellas. The worst part was at the end when he acted like himself and actually seemed like a cool dude. Whoever suggested he act like a Ray Liotta wannabe gave you bad advice. The lesson learned from this is that guys play roles on this show like they are straight out of Central Casting and usually do so poorly. So next time a butcher gives you advice about anything other than a T-bone, politely decline
   
2. After School Special: Need a Designated Driver Much?: One of the single greatest moments in reality TV history happened Monday night, some guy named Tim who by profession runs a liquor distributorship became so intoxicated that he could not stay on his feet or stay awake. In one of those awkward moments clearly staged for reality TV, Ashley had to go wake the drunk Tim up and then had him carried to a cab by four of the other beau hunks. As if that was not enough. Ashley, who had not spoken to sober Tim for more than three minutes, at the most, pontificated about whether or not Tim was an alcoholic. One truly bizarre afterschool special! The moral of the story is that reality TV has a hair-trigger for truly bizarre moralizing...so... The More You Know!
   
3. Mama's boy: Here is another thing you will only hear on the Bachelorette: "I love a mama's boy." Exact quote by the lovely Ashley! Long story short, one of the contestants/bachelors called him mom from his cell phone to let his mom talk to Ashley. The only thing that pulled it out for Loser #1 was the fact that the mom was pretty funny. Things turned super awkward when the mom admonished them to use protection on the overnight date. Don't worry mom, the awkward phone call definitely ensured he will not be getting into any Situations.... Can anyone imagine this in real life?
   
4. The Mask: This season's big twist is that one of the contestants is voluntarily wearing a mask. Well not like one of those weird Richard Nixon masks worn by robbers and Patrick Swayze (see Point Break), but one like you wear to a masquerade ball. The funniest part of this is that the other contestants are infuriated by this. In the normal world, you would ignore the guy as being a weirdo. However, on the Bachelorette, this somehow makes him the biggest threat. They took it seriously. I guess it was because, wait for it, he was there for the right reasons.... Reality TV is the gift that keeps on giving
   
5. Cellphone Salesmen = Damaged Goods: Every season, someone seems like a real catch but they have a mysterious past that usually includes having their heart broken for an inexplicable reason. This season the guilty party was William the cell phone salesman from Ohio. Ashley even said it - he seems perfect. In the world of reality TV, this should be a giant red flag. If a guy is on this show looking for love as if this show is his last and only option, he is probably damaged goods. For you viewers out there, when you see this, you should look carefully for the flaw because it will show itself eventually. In this case, Will proceeded to do a lackluster Sean Connery impression and followed it by his riff on how he never wants to grow up - ode to Toys 'r' us! You might as well have had a sign over his head dinging while flashing damaged goods. But hey, it's all good.
   
6. Tugging the Heart Strings: Go West Young Man: In a teaser preview of the contestants, one of the dudes - who happened to be named West - instantly endeared himself to the loyal audience when he shared the tragic loss of his wife of 7 years who died in an unfortunate accident a few years ago. In real life, this would have been a touching story, but in the world of the Bachelorette, this was currency. The minute ABC played that clip he was guaranteed a 5 episode arc. Undoubtedly, he will roll along with his charisma playing up jokes based on his names only to reveal his true past and earn two more episodes and the possibility of an episode to be named later. Long story short, in the world of reality TV, human interest stories are like the golden ticket from Willy Wonka. But he was there for the right reasons remember!

Lesson Learned

In the end, the real lesson of the Bachelorette is encapsulated in Bentley. Bentley an entrepreneur from Utah who it appears from a teaser clip owns a Bounce-around and calls that a business venture. Anyway, from contestant interviews, we know that Bentley is admittedly on the show to promote himself and ultimately to trick poor Ashley. The dramatic twist to this is that Ashley was warned beforehand by a former contestant who knew of the plot. Despite the forewarning, Ashley decides that she is going to give him a chance and later in the show we see a preview in which she proclaims her love for Bentley.

From this, we learn two things that are the ultimate lessons from the show:

1. All girls know each other - no one on the show even flinched when Ashley was told before the show even started to film - both the identity and intentions of an unnamed man. This just confirms my suspicion - girls are part of a secret network guys don't know about similar to the one the dogs had in 101 Dalmatians that was so mysterious yet made so much sense.
2. Finally, even on TV girls go for the jerks - this show confirms what we have known all along - girls go for awful guys. This is case in point - Ashley was told what he was going to do, he did it, and she fell for it. Yet, we feel sorry for her. Some call this lame, I call it compelling TV.

Long story short, watch The Bachelorette and enjoy it for what it really is. Ignore the emotion and the "love." Realize it is like wrestling, people play roles and are really working to make a few dollar bills and hopefully retire in Florida.

Why I Can't Explain What Calling the Hogs Means to Me...

"Breathes there a man with soul so dead
who never to himself hath said
This is my own. My native land!
Whose heart hath ne'er within him burned
as home his footsteps he has turned
From wandering on a foreign strand..."
- Sir Walter Scott

When I left Little Rock to move to D.C., my mama told me never to forget where I came from. Little did she know that I would spend most of my first two months in my new home missing my old one. It is not just missing something familiar, family, or friends. It is that longing deep down that Sir Walter Scott was talking about. It is that intangible connection to where I'm from.
As one might expect, the problem with intangible connections is they are usually hard to define. Fortunately for me, I just have to point to a simple answer and that is by watching Arkansas Razorback football games. See, it was in my four years of college, watching those games that I learned something about who I am in this world. I'm an Arkansan.

Growing up in Arkansas, I watched the games because it was what I was supposed to do but mostly wanted to know if my Sunday School teachers would be grumpy the next day. It wasn't until I went away to the University that I started to realize that those games were more about my life than I could have ever imagined. I read somewhere that Bill Clinton once said that he was afraid Razorback games were a metaphor for life - I'm afraid he was too right.

To the untrained eye, a Razorback football game is no different from any other college sporting events. Two teams, fight songs, cheerleaders, people living vicariously though 19 year old kids, and alot of concession stand food. But the truth is, that game represents life for an Arkansan - the bad and the neverending hope for good.

In a state that is perennially 49 of 50 in everything good and in the top five of everything bad as ranked by the people who rank things for the purpose of humilating us, the unofficial state motto is "Thank God for Mississippi." Which by the way, Thank you God and Ole Miss for taking Houston Nutt off of our hands... (As my college advisor used to say, "Poor lil' ol' state." True story, she meant it nicely)

However, as I have learned, the one time those stats, the jokes about being poor and incestuous, and generally being stupid don't matter, and everyone has to respect us is when our football team wins. That is why the game matters. Becuase, that is a group of some 100 young men standing up for us and saying we matter.

The games teach us about hope.

Think of it this way, everytime we get down, we stand in unison and Call the Hogs. As unpretentious as the state itself, Calling the Hogs is by no means high and mighty. In fact, it is kind corny. Of course, you only think it is silly until the first time it works. Honestly, there is nothing quite like Calling them with 70,000 people. [Legend has it that in the Great Shootout of 1969, the crowd was so loud that it shook the field knocking the ball off of the tee. (Yes, seeing that happen live is on my bucket list).]

The point of all this is to say that no matter how dark things get. No matter, how far behind we are, somehow we truly believe that Calling the Hogs can change that. Like I said, doubt me all you want until the first time it works...

But in my four years at the University, I learned that there was another one of our traditions that explained why this mattered. During pregame, after the band comes in and the Hogs are called, the student section (and I guess everyone else if they want to) stands to sing the alma mater. While it took me the better part of four years to learn it, it only took me one game to learn the last line... "Mother of Mothers we sing unto, YOU!"

The tradition is to turn and point to Old Main (the oldest and original building on campus which I will probably write more about one day) as we sing this line. Old Main is signifcant not just for its age, but the fact that it is the starting point for the Senior Walk where each alumnus has their name engraved in the sidewalk to always be remembered by future generations. Old Main is an appropriate way to recognize our past and our future. It symbolizes our pride and our hope.

I loved to start the game that way because it always reminded us that all of us, students, alumni, and fans were in this together. We shared the same pride and tradition. We shared the same passion and most importantly the same hope, now and for our future.

Now that I have gone on to other places and the Ozarks are not my home, I think about the rest of the alma mater that always reminds me of where I am from.

"Pure as the dawn on the brow of they beauty
Watches thy soul from the mountains of God
Over the fates of they children departed
Far from the land where their footsteps have trod
Beacon of hope in the ways dreary lighted
Pride of our hearts that are loyal and true,
From those who adore unto one who adores us
Mother of Mothers we sing unto you"

If Razorback football is a metaphor for life, I think the most important lesson might be that wherever we go, our home never leaves us. We are always Razorbacks. We are always Arkansans. Even better, Arkansas waits patiently for our return, cheering us on. Hoping for our best.

The funny feeling I have had the last few weeks of missing home has not so much been a sad one but a steady reminder of who I am and the pride of the state and home I represent.

Rewriting my story

By any measure, it was a beautiful morning. Cool blue skies were a welcome relief for Virginia and the nation's capitol. The lazy days of summer were beginning to give way to the fall and a return to normal. For a region defined by hustle and bustle, there was a certain serenity to the moment.

That was this morning.

I woke up in my apartment just blocks from the Pentagon and couldn't help but think about how my story has changed dramatically in the last 3,287 days.

The first Sept. 11th happened my junior year of high school. Not just that year, but while I was on our junior class trip to Washington D.C. That was another idyllic morning in D.C. Clear blue skies, on a cool fall morning, it was a perfect day. The highlight of our trip was the tour of the White House that was supposed to start between 9:30 and 10:00 that morning.

When we arrived at the White House, one of our group got a call from her dad asking to talk to the trip leader. At first, I was surprised that someone had a cellphone they brought with them since roaming charges were crazy, but I was soon more concerned with the look on our leader's face. From what I could eavesdrop from the conversation, a plane had flown into one of the buildings of the World Trade Center. This was odd, but I knew that happened sometimes with skyscrapers - in my mind nothing would stand in the way of my dream of visiting the White House.

That all changed when I heard them discuss a second plane. Everything went too fast from that point. Guards began to scramble into and out of the buildings around the White House, shotguns, bulletproof vests, then assault rifles... About that time we were encourageed to clear the grounds - by running, not walking, running. Our group fled to our bus and headed out of town but had to pass by the Pentagon on I-395. By then, we had heard what had happened and sure enough, there was a hole and billows of smoke. Problem is we had to drive past on a road that was being shut down. Thankfully a firefighter spotted our bus as a school group and made us one of the last vehicles to pass by.

We made it home to Little Rock the next day, still unsure of what all we had seen and what had happened. None of us knew the gravity of the situation until we pulled into the church parking lot to find everyone we knew and tv camera crews ready to greet us. We weren't quite sure what, but we knew we had survived.

The next few weeks, the story was all we talked about. Everyone wanted to know how it felt, what we thought, and what it was like. But as always happens with time, the story started to fade. It got shorter. Fewer people wanted to listen. Or maybe I got tired of telling it.

College came and went. Then seminary and grad school. Memories came back last summer when I lived up here while working at my internship, but it was a short trip and life got back to normal. Since moving up here in August, I have thought about just how much things have changed and today of days it is worth considering.

It has been nine years since that day, but I am on a path that is no doubt impacted by what happened. After all, it was the process of coming to grips with how my world had changed that I became interested in politics and government. I majored in political science, got my masters in public administration and now am working on a law degree. I may not have thought about that last September day on a regular basis in class, but it was no doubt the driving force behind where I am today.

My trip has brought me full circle. Not just to D.C., but even to the place I live. See, my apartment building is on the otherside of where I sat on I-395 watching smoke pour out of the Pentagon. On my right that day, a burning building symbolized a change in my future. I geuss i should have just looked to my left to see what exactly that might mean.

Nine years later, in exactly the same place, I look back to where I have come from wondering where it is taking me next.

Step 1: Try not to look like an idiot

"Back to school, back to school, to prove to dad I'm not a fool..."
- Billy Madison


During our law school orientation, one of the professors turned motivational speakers told us that law school was more like high school than we could imagine. Not withstanding his years of wisdom, I'd have to say that it might be alot more like junior high. See, I am now two weeks into law school and feel that I still spend 80% of my day trying not to look like an idiot - just like junior high. Here's why...

First, I have a locker with a combination lock that I use sparingly because I end up carrying around all of my belongings like a hobo riding trains cross country. I mean you never know when you will have 30 seconds to go to your locker that is literally 4 feet away from your classroom where you have back to back classes. I mean, why play with fire? Have I mentioned that going to law school has made me lose all sense of reason? More on that later.

Second, I become irrationally nervous about stupid things such as walking down the hall. To my credit, picture this, you have 75 to 100 people in each of the first year sections getting out of class at the same time and having to walk through the same narrow hallways to get to their next class. Add to that the fact that all of us have the nervous disposition of a rabid chipmunk. Oh, and don't forget that we are all carrying everything we own in massive backpacks. People don't come out alive. True story. In another lifetime, called high school, I used to make fun of junior high kids for doing the exact same thing. They would break into a sweat running to their next class like they were the only ones on the Titanic to get out of the lowest decks. I now call that Thursday.

Third, I quit using deoderant and inexplicably starting wearing my hair in a different style that involves a cowlick-flip in the front. Ok, not really, but it could happen. I am only two weeks into this thing.

Updates to come...

Real People I've Known #28: Softball Nomad Part 1

To be honest, I will probably never remember how we met. Really, I can't think of anyone who was sure where he came from. All I know is that one day he was there and that is really what matters.

It all started my junior year of high school when I agreed to play for the church softball team during the summer. Judging by the tarnished trophies around the church, the team had been really good at one point but had fallen on hard times. The season I joined was special because it was the first time in four or five years we had fielded a team.

We got together for maybe one practice before league play began, nothing major. After all, I knew pretty much everyone who was on the team.

That all changed at the first game when he showed up - the Softball Nomad....

I was warming up with Brian, my brother-in-law and soon to be de facto coach of our squad, when the Softball Nomad ambled up to our team. Having no idea who he was, I asked around for someone familiar with him - no one had a clue.

No one knew what to make of him. I mean, here, standing before us, was the 45-year-old incarnation of David Wooderson, Matthew McConaughey's mustachioed character from Dazed and Confused, wearing jean shorts an old t-shirt and neon Nike running shoes. Everything was there including the slow Southern drawl and the boyish twinkle in his eye. He was wiry and tanned. The age showed at times.

We were friendly to him as we would be with anyone else, but I think that deep down we smiled and nodded waiting to see another middle-aged guy who was good at softball once.

If you have played on a non-competitive sports team, you will understand that when someone tells you they play a certain position, you have to take their word for it. You might have a sneaking suspicion that the 300-lb slug you just added to the team is not in fact a wide receiver... Anyway, Softball Nomad said in no uncertain terms that he wanted to play Centerfield. We had no choice. When Softball Nomad tells you something, for some weird reason you listen.

There was nothing very memorable about the game (with the exception of me throwing the ball over the dugout...twice) particularly because the other team scored about 100 runs an inning. Seriously, it looked like that old Bugs Bunny cartoon.

Then something amazing happened. A soft line drive hit towards center looked like it was about to fall in front of Softball Nomad.

All I remember was the flash of neon Nikes flying through the air and the Nomad going down in a heap. The team let out a collective groan that said "dang, I hope he signed his insurance waiver". Fifteen guys and our three fans all had that split second of gut wrenching anguish knowing there is going to be a mangled middle-aged man out there. Before we could grasp the gory scene though, Nomad jumped to his feet threw in the ball and ran back to his position. No harm no foul.

Collective silence.
Amazement.

After the game, the self-effacing Nomad would only say, "Well, it's like I always say, 'As long as nobody got hurt that was as good as a victory.'" With that, he evaporated into the darkness as silently as he arrived.

Fortunately, the Nomad would magically turn up for every game. Always arriving an hour early to go through a stretch routine only qualified yogis are capable of pulling off, the Softball Nomad appeared and disappeared without warning. At the end of the season, he drifted into the ether only to return each spring.

Over the years, we got to know him better - as well as you could know him - but on some level he was always just the Softball Nomad.

Goodbye Neil Diamond...

"There are two types of people in this world: Those who like Neil Diamond, and those who don't. My ex-wife loves him"
- Bob Wiley, What About Bob

I would have to respectfully disagree with Bob. There is a third type of person - people whose car is named Neil Diamond....

My life changed forever August 1, 2010. That was the day I left a sizeable part of me in Little Rock as I left for the East Coast. When most people say they left a part of themselves, they mean something vague and abstract like a heart or a memory. No, in my case, I mean I left a literal part of me, some might say the best part....Neil Diamond.

For the first time since the summer of 2003 when I left for Fayetteville, I don't have my wingman by my side. For the last seven years, I have torn up the countryside and stolen the hearts of young ladies driving my surface-of-the-sun-yellow Jeep Cherokee. In seven years and 100,000+ miles, I lived a 1,000 lifetimes with Neil Diamond.

But the road came to an end two weeks ago.

That morning, we drove Neil with one final load of cargo to meet Steph's parents with our U-Haul. After we made it back to my boyhood home (aka my parents house, I decided I am going to start calling it so when I am famous it doesn't sound so awkward), I made up an excuse to stay outside while Stephanie ran inside. Once I was alone, I took a moment to listen to the Neil Diamond cassette tape in the tape deck of the Jeep which gave Neil his name. One final time, I blasted "Forever in Blue Jeans." I hate to admit this, but I didn't cry. I wanted to, but the lyrics were too uplifting.

Anyway, after one last goodbye, I handed over the keys to my mom. Neil sat in the driveway like a champ waiting for me with the look in his eye Old Yeller had before he got capped by the older brother. Neither of us wanted it to end, but it was time to go our separate ways.

After a final family lunch and a round of goodbyes, we hit the road on our long trip to DC. Now, two weeks later, a day has not gone bye that I have not just wanted to climb behind the wheel of that two-wheel drive stallion and drive off into the sunset.

My day will come, but until then I hear the words of our final song ringing in my ears:

"I'd like to say, We do okay, Forever in Blue Jeans...."

Where I'm Going

There have been alot of questions lately about what the next step is for me and Stephanie. Since I have not written a blog in something like 4 weeks, I guess I have not exactly kept up my end of the deal.

So, I will do my best to cover all of my bases as quickly as possible.

Well, since we got married in January Stephanie has been working the front desk at the Courtyard Marriott here in College Station. It has not been the most glamorous job, but she has done a great job of putting up with alot - everything from enraged guests to lazy workers even illegal, impromptu games of Scattegories in the lobby. I'm really proud of her, and I know she is ready for a change.

Me, well I have been busy wrapping up the school year. I finished up at the Bush School mid-May. This last semester was surprisingly hard considering all of the projects and papers that I had to do at the same time I was trying to figure out how to be a good husband and all. For starters, I had to rework my schedule so that I wasn't at school every night until 1 AM.

Now for the big news...

The first week of August, Stephanie and I are moving to Arlington, Virginia to our new apartment in the Pentagon City area of town. We will both be attending school at George Washington University. Stephanie is going to be going to the Elliot School of International Affairs where she will be working on a Masters in... wait for it... International Affairs concentrating in Security studies.

I, on the other hand, am apparently a glutton for punishment who on the heels of completing his MPA will be attending law school. Some of you might remember that I was all set up to go to George Mason University's law school. Well, after getting admitted off of the waitlist in the first round, I called an audible.

We are both very fortunate to have been admitted to such great programs. I am excited about the chance to go to one of the top law schools in the nation. It has been a crazy journey in the last three years since I finished up at Fayetteville - from seminary to grad school and now to law school. We can't wait to see what God has next because there is not telling.

Most importantly, we expect everyone to make the trip up to DC at some point to visit us. We are going to have a room with a spare bed for anyone who is interested. So, don't forget that.

Practitioner of the Janitorial Arts....How Pathetic?

Some of you may recall that I got laid off from my job with A&M's admissions office in the middle of last March. I knew that the job was running out and had started looking for jobs at the end of February. After a prolonged flirtation with a stuck-up country club in the area, April started with me being jobless.

Fortunately, Steph's understanding boss at the hotel agreed to hire me on as the new facilities guy at the hotel. In layman's terms, facilities stands for practitioner of the janitorial arts. Yah, you guessed it - I am a janitor.

What you might not know is that I hail from a long line of janitors. Well, not exactly a long line. Mostly just my little brother. See, he has worked as a janitor at our church during the summer and over Christmas for a couple of years. When he found out about my new job, he asked me the same thing that our oldest brother asked him his first day:

"Do you have to pick up poop off of the floor?"

Well, short answer no. But I do have a true story to tell you that sums up my first night.

My first full night, I was easing into my new job. I don't care who you are. It takes a certain amount of mental preparation to get set to mop the men's bathroom and to take out the trash in the ladies room, etc.

Well, as my first night wound down, I was using the dry mop to sweep the tile in the lobby by the front desk. Minding my own business and not paying attention to the sudden influx of junior high students who were at the hotel for their Science Olympiad.

Precisely the moment I forgot about the fact that my first job after getting my master's degree is as a janitor, it happened.

I had stopped sweeping to allow two girls pass by me. Both girls were what you would expect for 13 year old participants in a Science Olympiad. Not exactly the coolest 7th graders to come through the hotel if you know what I mean.

In the midst of my smug appraisal of the nerds...er, young ladies, I heard something that will forever change my life.

As they walked past me, one of the girls looked over her shoulder to steal a glance at me and said under her breath but loud enough for me to hear,

"How pathetic...."

I stopped in my tracks as soon as I heard this. After getting over the initial shock, my first instinct was to chase them down and brag about my master's degree and my hopes for a bright future...blah, blah, blah.

So, I guess that girl got the last word. I mean how do you come back from that? What should I have said, you have acne and won't have a boyfriend until college? Or brag about my awesome GPA and hot wife who works at the front desk....

So I guess, that middle school girl told me...

I'm afraid it is going to be a long summer.

The Rent Car

There is a picture of me at my kindergarten graduation. I am wearing a pastel, plaid jacket. A little pink, a dash of baby blue, all in all it was pure man.

Looking at this picture the other day, I asked my mom why in the world she let me wear that jacket. To which she replied, "It was just you."

Well, I think that I started to really understand this last Thursday when I paid for my first rent car.

Stephanie and I went to Washington DC this past weekend to check out schools and look for apartments. Because we had to get around the metro area, it was time for me to get my first rent car. After paying entirely too much, I made my way to the parking deck in a hurry to get to the hotel.

Then, I saw it. The moment I laid eyes on it; I knew this was my car for the weekend - a neon yellow Chevy Cobalt....

For those of you who are regular readers, you will remember that yellow happens to be the color of the sun as well as my Jeep "Neil Diamond."

So, there I stood at midnight in the parking garage of Reagan National Airport. Just me, my wife, and a yellow fireball I would be driving.

Shaking my head in disbelief, I told Stephanie: "It is almost like they knew..."

In the back of my head, I heard my mom saying, "It is just you"

Overcoming the Madness of March

Today, it began. The national basketball championship is at stake - only to be decided by the big dance. Today, 64 teams were set to make a run at history. Give them two weeks and only four will stand.

Since the action has started, I know what you are thinking: "The tournament already started why is he telling us how to fill out our brackets?" Well, I will tell you what. I have been thinking about those of you who are disappointed and depressed because your bracket fell apart today. You are dreading going to work tomorrow so that you don't have to think about the $5 you lost by picking Sam Houston State to win it all....

So, I have decided to give you some of my favorite strategies for picking a winning bracket*:

1. Go with your Gut: This time-honored strategy relies on a series of snap judgments to pick the winner. Really, it is easy. Grab a pen (a pencil would let you erase) and jot down names as fast as you can. For example: "Butler v. University of Texas - El Paso" Quick, don't even think about it - Butler... Well, you would have just been right.

2. Copy Someone Famous: Now that the president has made it cool to fill out brackets, you have to get in on this action. Luckily for you, these things are highly publicized. If you are nervous, google Heidi Montag and ncaa tournament - voila! It is that easy. If you are at a loss for famous celebs to choose because nothing comes up for Danny DeVito or Helen Hunt, just turn on ESPN and let them work their magic.

3. Mascot Fight: We all know that the real reason we have college sports is to figure out a proximate way what mascot would beat another mascot in a cage match. For example, which one of you has not spent hours wondering who wins the fight between the Montana Grizzlies and the New Mexico Lobos? How about between the Syracuse Orange and the Vermont Catamounts? Yah, that's right. Well, that is a perfect way to choose your bracket. Picture the real life version of your mascot fighting it out with the other version. Warning: This can have some problems such as when the Stanford Cardinal whose mascot is a giant Redwood faces the Stephen F. Austin Lumberjacks.....

4. Straight Chalk: Don't ask me why but the experts call it picking the chalk when you go by tournament seeding. This is actually a foolproof strategy for the lazy bracketologist - all the thinking is done for you. You are just filling in the blanks. Ironically, you probably beat me.....

5. Pick based on Coaches: One of my favorite strategies is to pick your teams based on who is at the helm. For professional sports aficionados, this is frowned upon since everyone knows no one listens to a coach who makes half of what you do. However, in college, the salaries are roughly equivalent (jk) so the players might possibly listen. So, when you look at a match up, Wikipedia the coach's record in the tournament and look for other clues like national championship rings. This can be a big help.

6. Senior Point Guards: When all is said and done, the most important thing that a team can have is senior leadership. In the days of one-and-done, senior leadership is extremely rare. That is what makes it so compelling when you find the guy who has done the time, whose career could possibly end with the final horn. That is the guy I want to be in charge of my team. (Sidenote: a really good junior who is the picture of dependability will do too)

7. Coin Toss: I actually tried this one year. You go match up to match up flipping a coin. I was better in the first round than my actual bracket with this method. Unfortunately, Montana State didn't have enough to go all the way that year....

8. Name Recognition: The old faithful. Simply choose the team you have heard of the most. The major problem with this is that Duke wins a completely disproportionate number of times.

Honorable mentions: letting children pick, picking based off of your wife's favorite colors, picking based off of number of guys with mohawks, picked based on the team with a guy who has a crazy name.


So for those of you embarrassed at the water cooler tomorrow, remember these strategies and be a winner.

* In the interest of full disclosure. I have never won a tournament pool. Truth is I never can follow the rule....

Mr and Mrs Caleb Osborne

Well, for all of my blog fans out there, I would like to start with an apology for not keeping you posted on what has been going on in my life. I know it was rude of me, but well, I think that you will understand.

Where to begin...

Oh yah, see, I got married January 9th. But, first, lets back up.

Here is the rough timeline of where I have been.

{Skip October, November, and half of December - they went too fast, I don't remember them anyway}

Dec. 17 - My birthday. I turned 25 and my insurance rates plummeted.

Dec. 19 - Ellie's birthday, but I missed it because Stephanie graduated from A&M.... WHOOP!

Dec. 21 - Move out of my apartment and head to Dallas for one long roadtrip.

Dec. 25 - Jesus' birthday

Dec. 26 - make the lonely trek to Little Rock by myself. When I returned to Dallas, it would be to get married.

Dec. 29-Jan. 7 - Spend the better part of my two week Christmas vacation cutting down a tree with Papa. Oh and it was really cold

Jan. 8 - Whirlwind day. Left Little Rock in the wee hours of the morning with the temperature coming in at 12 degrees. Actually tried to stop at Starbucks, but the pipes were frozen... Caravan with none other than Van Thompson and Christopher P. Danforth. Epic. Picked Danny up at DFW and grabbed lunch at Chuy's in Dallas where we convinced the waitress to give us temporary tattoos of Elvis (True Story). That night was the wedding rehearsal and my final cigar as a single man...

Jan. 9 - Wedding Day. After a lovely breakfast at IHOP, managed to be late to the church for pictures and had to put on my tux as I walked into the building - it inspired tremendous confidence in everyone. Fortunately, everything went off without a hitch and we were married.

{Sidebar} I would like to clear up a few things here. First, I did not kiss Stephanie with just a peck. I was just tasteful. I kissed just the right amount. Second, yes, it is true. My name was misspelled on the unity candle.

Jan. 10 - headed off to Puerto Rico for our honeymoon. Landed just in time to be whisked to the cruise ship - Princess Cruises. The world's largest collection of upper middle aged vacationers I have ever been around.

Jan. 10 - 17 - Honeymoon - We had a great time. Our boat stopped at St. Thomas, Tortola, Antigua, St. Lucia and Barbados. It was fantastic. Nice and warm. Plenty of Sunburn. I swam with turtles. It was a deeply spiritual experience. Oh, and Stephanie and I had a great time.

Jan. 18 - Robert E. Lee/Martin Luther King Jr. Day - Finally a day off! moved to College Station and got my game face on.

Jan. 19 - present - I am not sure all that has gone on. Pretty much I have been extremely busy with school, work, and learning to be a husband. I really enjoy the latter.

I will do better to keep this thing updated more often.


Stay classy...

Where I've been

Well sports fans, I hate to break it to you, but I actually had stuff to do in September that was more important than this blog. Sorry. But hey, it hurts me more to say it than it hurts you.

Ya, I didn't buy it when my parents said that when I was a kid either.

Anyway, here are a few of the things that I have been up to in the month of September:

- School, school, and more school.... That is really the theme of my life. I spend something like 10 hours a day up there. Actually, one day I spent 25 hours in one day up there - it was complicated and I dont want to talk about it.

- Working hard for the money - This year I am working 20 hours a week for a professor at the Bush School. I am teaching review sessions for his class twice a week, and I also am doing research about legislation. I enjoy it.

Not to be outdone, I am still working for review for the Office of Admissions and Records. I really enjoy the people I work with. They are good people. I also enjoy any situation in which I am the youngest person.


- King of the Hill's finale - one of the days that I have dreaded for years finally happened the in September. The long running comedy classic came to an end with the airing of an appropriate yet touching finale. Fans of the show will understand the sadness that certainly ensued. It is hard to say goodbye to a show that has meant so much to me over the years. Fortunately, it survives into perpetuity through the beauty of syndication.


- LSAT - I kind of kept this below the radar the last few weeks, but I wanted to take the LSAT to have a score in the record books. There are several reasons - the least of which this is the only standardized test besides the MCAT that I have not taken. But really, this summer I spent alot of times around legal issues and researching them. A number of the people I worked with and around were lawyers. This made me realize that this is a piece I might like to add to my education one day. So, it is good to have that in my pocket. However, as always, there is a story involved.... Soon to come.


- Stephanie's Birthday. We didn't do anything major for this one, but I thought that it shoudl be noted that Stephanie's birthday was this month. This is also a good time to point out that my birthday is in two and a half months, so be thinking!

- Arkansas vs. A&M - One of the biggest events of the fall is the first annual Southwest Classic - a football game between the two universities with which I have been affiliated. I think it is awful nice of them to play a footbal game to determine which school appreciates me more. You might have watched and seen that my Arkansas Razorbacks won the game. It was pretty awesome. The good news is that Stephanie still wants to marry me - the ability to overcome natural Aggie instincts is imperative.

There has been alot more going on but that is all for now....

The Duct Tape-Water Bottle Chair

Now for a story that few have ever heard.

It is a true story. Ask my freshman roommate Danny.

During my freshman year of college, I got really interested in recycling. Well not so much for the environment but more as a weird kind of arts and crafts project. During my freshman year, I had saved the 20 oz. Sam's Choice water bottles that I drank every day in class. Feeling creative in my free time, I decided to make something - a chair to be exact.

So, using just duct tape and the water bottles, I made a chair for my room. It worked. Well enough that I almost thought about changing my major to engineering.

Unfortunately, after about two or three weeks of the chair, someone came into my room and broke it. It was not built for lateral motion.

Unable to part with my creation and unwilling to walk down the stairs to the trash room, I opted for the next best thing - leaving the chair in the hallway.

Flash forward something like a month to the end of the school year. Somehow, my roommate Danny came into the possession of some flowers. Not wanting them any longer, we decided to try the time tested method of leaving them in the hall. Sure enough, just minutes later, they were gone.

The next day, Danny was walking down the hall of another floor in our dorm when he happened to look into the open door. There in the room of girls that we did not know was what can only be described as a shrine to the stuff we didn't want any more.

There in that room was the duct tape water bottle chair, the dying flowers, and everything that we had left out in the hall over the course of several weeks.

There you have it. A shrine to our freshman year. By some girls that we didn't know.

True story

Cosborne's Magical Mystery Tour

I know what you are thinking.... What has Cosborne been up to for the last week?

Well, ask and you shall receive....

Let's start Aug 7:

Friday: Stephanie arrive in Northern Virginia. I had to drive over to Baltimore to pick her up which was a blast. Unfortunately, earlier that day was my last day with PF. It was a pretty sad day. It is amazing how fast you get attached to a job and the great people you work with. I just hope that I will catch up to them again one day soon.

Saturday: Whirlwind Tourism: Steph and I set out for DC to conquer as many sights as possible. We started at the Holocaust Museum before heading to the National Mall. We checked out the World War II Memorial, The Jefferson Memorial, the Tidal Basin, the FDR Memorial, the Washington Monument, the Lincoln Memorial, the Vietnam Memorial. We then made our way to the Reagan building to partake of their food court and much needed AC. Thankfully, Stephanie managed to bring some of that good ole Texas heat with her to DC! After visiting the Smithsonian American History Museum and an aborted effort to visit the National Archives, we headed down to the Washington Nationals game. I have been to three games in Nationals Park and I must say - Stephanie was by far my favorite company to go with. Sorry everyone else.

Sunday: We woke up early to head to Pennsylvania. My second epic showdown with the Mason Dixon Line. Fortunately, Gettysburg was only about an hour from my house. Unfortunately, the brand new museum was wicked overpriced. So, instead, Steph worked the map as my navigator as we headed out on a driving tour of the battlefield. The entire loop was 20+ miles and took us nearly 2 hours to drive without the CD accompaniment. I want to say that it was because they were not narrated by James Earl Jones. Really, I was too cheap. Anyway, it was a difficult sight to behold - the epitome of the war that nearly tore our nation in two. I have to say that Arkansas had a very impressive monument. After a brief stop at the hosue, we drove down to DC to walk around the White House at night. It is nice to be able to drive around DC at night without traffic or tourists. Got to love Sunday night.

Monday: Steph and I went down to see the attraction she most highly anticipated: The International Spy Museum. I was actually pleasantly surprised by what they had to offer - a great variety of gadgets from US and Commie spies. We had a great time. However, after this adventure, we realized that this was the end of our tourism - we were exhausted. We went back to my house for me to pack up and get ready for the great road trip.

Tuesday: We got up at 6 AM Eastern time for the great adventure. It was nice to see the sun rise over the mountains - a fitting goodbye to the beauty of Virginia. At a quarter til 9, we stopped in Lexington, VA - home of VMI, Washington & Lee University. More importantly, the town is the final resting place of General Stonewall Jackson and General Robert E. Lee. On this morning, we stopped to pay our respects to General Lee. Upon arrival, we stopped to take a picture of the resting place of Lee's faithful steed Traveller. We then snuck in to the unlocked basement to see the masoleum where Gen. Lee and the rest of his family is buried. Here I might or might not have taken an illegal picture of his burial place. That is still up for debate.

Resuming our roadtrip, we keep up a good pace only being slowed by a horrific rainstorm and light hail near Knoxville, TN. That was pretty appropriate. Don't worry. Neither hail nor unruly Tennessee fans can deter Neil Diamond.

Finally, by 10 PM Central, we rolled into Little Rock. Something like 17 hours of driving, stops for gas, one dinner in Memphis with Vanculen, and some horrendous storms. All in one day.


So, it all came to an end. The great summer adventure bookended by roadtrips to and from DC.

Moments I should have known...

Moments I should have known....

...I would never make it as a baseball player.


When I was in 6th grade, I played on a more competitive Little League team. The step up in competition was a good way to prove my mettle as a player. This was when I learned to play third base and a few other things about life.

Two instances told me I would not make it far in the baseball world.

1. Once during a game, I decided to go for the "high sock" look. You know, the old school baseball look where you pull your socks up to your knees. Trying it out the first time, I felt confident and cool. Until my coach walked through the dugout and said, "Caleb, not with those calves."

It was 2 years before I tried the high sock look again.


2. Late in the season, my team was fighting hard for first place in our division. We had our main rival down big. Before the team went out between innings, the coach called us over to the huddle. Here is how it went down:

Coach: "Alright guys, we got them down. And what do we do when the other guy is down?"
Team: "Kick 'em!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Me (at the same time): "Help them up!"
Coach: "That's right! Kick 'em! Keep 'em down!"

Probably should have known right there that I wasn't going to make it...

This One Goes Out to My Big Brother

After a long summer here in Northern Virginia, I made up my mind to settle down and take it easy for my final weekend here. I bought the first season of Friday Night Lights on DVD and planned to relax while watching it. However, that all changed when I talked to my big brother the other day.

To understand why I paid so much attention to what he had to say, you have to understand our relationship. See, when I was a kid, I pretty much worshiped the ground he walked on. Still do, it is just a little more awkward now that I am 24.

Anyway. I have made it a point that if my brother every gives me a specific recommendation about something I do it. That is how I started listening to Counting Crows - to this day, it is the only CD he has ever told me to listen to. He was the one who told me I should watch Scrubs. The one who suggested that Twins Enterprises was making cool hats. I could go on with many more examples but that is not what you are reading for...

So, on Thursday, my brother called me to hear about my adventures up here and immediately honed in on one of the biggest omissions from my list - a Baltimore Orioles game. Well, not so much the Orioles but for Camden Yards. Since the ballpark opened something like 15 years ago, I have wanted to visit the park that was responsible for putting an end to cookie cutter bowls like Busch Stadium and Three Rivers Stadium. I had been to Rangers Ballpark in Arlington several times which was supposed to look very similar, but I was ready to see the real deal.

So, per my bro's recommendation, I set out for Maryland on Saturday afternoon. Because it was the Orioles vs. the Boston Red Sox, tickets were sold out. So, I did the next best thing - got Standing Room Only. I had actually looked for tickets earlier in the week, but seeing they were sold out, I figured it wasn't doable. Again, thanks to the encouragement of my brother, I decided to give the Standing Room Only a whirl.

Because I only travel alone when I have to, I put out the call and decided to take a buddy of mine along.

We got to the game just as batting practice was wrapping up and walked to the SRO section above the right field wall in time to have a ball hit by J.D. Drew land some 10 feet away from me - a good omen.

Things looked to take a turn for the worse when rain began to fall and grounds crew had to put out a tarp. Deciding to turn tragedy into triumph, my compadre and I stuck it out along the wall getting to the very front of SRO.

Having staked our claim, we didn't move for the next 7 innings.

On the way into the game, I had noticed that a surprising number of license plates in the parking lot had been from Massachusetts. It was pretty obvious where the loyalty of a majority of the fans lay - with the Red Sox. The stadium was completely packed. I could not find a single empty seat. It made me wish this was an important game down the stretch in September. I bet the Sox fans would have been more rowdy.

There were two Sox fans behind us that were funny to listen to. Even funnier, the drunker they got, the louder they were. Made for a great evening

Now, my younger bro is the true BoSox fan, but I have been watching them for a long time and really enjoy the team. It was definitely one of the better games I have been to see.

Dustin Pedroia - the second batter of the game - got things started with a home run. It was great. Later in the game, the man with the ugliest stance in baseball, Kevin Youkilis, went yard. In the mean time, David Ortiz showed off some warning track power to the deepest part of the park. However, he made up for it by legging out a double.

By the 7th, the Sox were up 4-0 and I had 2 hours to go to get home so we took off. It was a great game.

So, this one goes out to my big brother who once again proved he knows best. Thanks for the suggestion. It was a great game.

Musings.0001

I used to think that I was funny. That is not true. I just stayed up later.
Insomniacs must be flipping hilarious.
That explains the majority of YouTube



My little brother got engaged tonight. That is fantastic.
I am really proud of him. He is a good man.
Did i mention that he is my stunt double.
True story.

Unfortunately, this means that there are no Osborne Boys left for the ladies of the world. That is a real tragedy. I'm sure that the Lawrence brothers (Joey and Matthew, etc) are still single and maybe those guys in Hanson... Just a thought.

So for all you ladies out there, all you single ladies, all you singles ladies, it was a nice run. I am sorry the magic didn't happen for you, but don't give up. Follow your heart.

Weighty Issues #1

For those of you who know me, there are two themes that seem to recur in my life:
1. people never seem to be sure how much I weigh
2. I consistently have disasters involving pants

Today, I wanted to share a story about the first time I realized my weight problem - so to speak.

In the second semester of my freshman year, I started trying to run a few times a week down on the track where the 40 time National Champ Arkansas Razorbacks practiced - this was before the renovation when you could just walk right out on the track at any time. I called this the midnight mile as we usually only went to run late at night. Amazingly, we used to run 2 miles without stopping and did it in about 17 minutes - while that doesn't sound like much it was for me.

Fortunately, this hard work paid off a little bit as I was able to avoid the freshman 15 - or at least most of it.

So, the story picks up one day in the last month of school as I was eating in the Pomfreteria (the cafeteria in my dorm Pomfret. Yes, I named it that). I had gone with my roommate and partner in crime. It was a good move because, well, I had intentionally avoided getting to know anyone in the Honors dorm - I refused to be one of the nerds. As I found out over the course of the next three years, There were actually some really great people there. Oops.

Anyway, my roommate of course found a whole bunch of people that he knew. In this case, they were two girls that we had met at the very beginning of the year. For no explicable reason, they made it a habit of coming by our room at random hours. So, I kind of knew who they were although I did not ever talk to them. Yay for shyness!

So, towards the end of the meal, my roommate and one of the girls headed out to the soft-serve yogurt machine. As awkward silence ensued, the girl who was stuck with me decided to brave the awkwardness. Here is what she said:

Girl #2: "So, wow, have you been working out?"
Me (totally thinking of the one day a week I ran slowly and ignoring the fact it was worthless): "Oh, you know, a little of this, a little of that."
Girl #2: "Yah, I thought so cause it looks like you have lost some weight."
Me: "Oh, thats nice of you. Yah maybe a little"
Girl #2: "No, like, I thought you had lost like 50 lbs."
Me: AWKWARD STARE
Girl #2: "What? Didn't you use to be really obese?"

How do you respond to that? Well, if you are me, you don't. You stare blankly and spend the next 3 years of college carefully avoiding Girl #2. Although, irony of ironies, the next time I ran into her, was in the Elliptical section of the workout facilities...

President's Day in July

For those of you who are on Facebook, you probably know this, but on Friday, I threw down the gauntlet. I promised adventure. And man, did I deliver.

I have been trying out what I havn't seen since I have been in the DC-area. Earlier this week, it hit me... I havn't seen Monticello.

In order to correct this egregious mistake, I set out in search of adventure on Saturday morning. The initial plan was to drive to Charlottesville to Monticello before swinging over to Chancellorsville and ultimately to the Stonewall Jackson Shrine (where the great man died).

Instead, on the way to Monticello, I saw a huge sign for James Madison's Montpelier. Remembering my promise for adventure, I took the exit. Only to find it was 21 miles on a windy road back into the middle of nowhere. I have no clue how they ever found this place or more importantly found their way out of this place.

For example, I stopped at an ATM in Orange, VA. Mostly because I was impressed I found an ATM. Anyway, I finally made it to Montpelier.

Once there, I found out that the house had been lived in by members of the DuPont family who changed a few things up. As a result there have been extensive efforts to renovate by subtraction. Additions made to the house after the death of Madison have been removed.

I really liked the house. It was a beautiful place. The rolling fields nestled up against the Blue Ridge Mountains provided a scenic venue.

The tour wasn't shabby either. See, it was not exactly the most well traveled place that I have visited. There was practically no line. There would not have been any people there if it weren't for members of the Wounded Warrior program from Walter Reed. That made it special as well. Anyway, the point is that when you have tour guides, the middle of nowhere VA, and an under appreciated president who happened to be the primary force behind our Constitution - you get a one hour tour! It was truly remarkable. Although the house is rather bare with little furniture, the home of one of my favorite presidents made it more than worth it.

After a quick visit to the grave of our 4th president, I headed out to visit the home of president #3... Thomas Jefferson.

Back on the road to Monticello, I made it by 2:30. Unfortunately, Monticello gets alot more traffic than Montpelier and my tour wasn't until 5:10.

So, I had three hours to kill in the brand new visitors center at the foot of Jefferson's little hill. I checked out the exhibits, watched a short video, and visited the cafe. I don't think that it was there in Jefferson's time but forgot to ask - so can't be sure.

With two hours left until my tour, I decided to take a little nature hike up the trail to TJ's house. It was actually a very nice little jaunt with the exception of the fact it was more than half a mile and mostly up hill. On the way up, I stopped at his grave. Pretty cool. The cemetary is still an active cemetary for his descendants. Very interesting. So, within the course of some 2 hours, I visited the grave of Presidents 3 and 4. Both were sad moments. Two monuments of America were buried in these solitary plots - makes you think...

Finally, I was able to go into the house. It was a really cool, yet quick tour. In all fairness, when compared to Montpelier any tour is short. But, I digress.

Jefferson really was a remarkable man. His efforts in botany, architecture, education, and politics were all amazing. I loved his collection of Native American paraphenalia as well as his other examples of art from Europe. He really was making something remarkable. I greatly enjoyed the house and tried to make an offer but apparently it was not for sale.

After a brisk walk back down the mountain, I went for the Trifecta. See, President James Monroe's house is only 2 and a half miles from Jefferson's. Roughly 2 weeks travel in their time, by my estimate. Anyway, I got there at 6:08 only to find out that tours at Ash Lawn (his house) end at 6... So close, yet so far away.

To make up for my loss, I stopped in Charlottesville on my way home to check out the campus of University of Virginia (the school that TJ started). However, with storm clouds rolling in and being pretty dang confused about where I was going, I had to head back to NOVA (that is what I call Northern Virginia. Pretty cool huh?)

The uneventful trip home turned quiet eventful when it rained for the first time since roughly Noah's Flood. Combine torrential downpours, Neil Diamond's light frame and trouble with wind, and the horrrible, horrible driving of Virginians - you get a long trip home that aged me by 2 years.

Long story short, I made it home. Older. Wiser. Just as awesome.

All in all I would give this trip both a legend and a dary