1. “Are you ever gonna blog again, Mr. Nate?” -Ten year-old cancer victim Reggie, to me, upon my visit to Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital
2. That’s right, it’s been over a month since my last post. Since then, the Braves season came to a controversial end, Georgia got embarrassed by South Carolina (capping the worst sports weekend of my life), I got my first red card and ejection playing church league soccer (more to come on that), I broke 200 twice at the bowling alley, secured enough sponsors to potentially make PIR Nashville a great success, got some new pants, President Obama was reelected, people subsequently freaked out about the end of the world, and I turned 34.
Sure that’s a busy month, but I’m back now. If for no one else, for little Reggie. If for no other reason, to not to be outdone by those shit heads in Rascal Flatts.
3a. Speaking of bowling, I spent a few hours at the Strike and Spare off Charlotte Pike a few days ago. I happened to notice this sign hanging a few lanes down from me:
I threw three turkeys that day. Nobody offered my a bite of nothin’.
3b. Also, I think installing a speed bag directly above the ball returns would be a great idea. Currently, after every bad throw, I return to my table where I sit seething and stewing, suppressing my anger until it’s my turn again. Wouldn’t it feel great — after the disappointment of missing an easy spare pick up, for instance — to turn around and really lay into a speed bag with one big punch on the way back to your seat? I think the punch itself coupled with the “PHLUB-a-lub-a-lub-a-lub” of the bag would really help release some tension. For me, at least.
3c: Last week Lindsey and I were at Play-Mor on Thompson Lane. We got our lanes, laced up our shoes, then went to the counter to buy beer as we always do. The guy told me he couldn’t sell us beer — at a bowling alley, remember — because “the private school teams” were about to come in. Great, just great. Sixteen years out of high school and Father Ryan kids are still ruining my life.
4. A funny exchange I had at work with a gentleman whose sleeveless Superman t-shirt revealed his huge Superman bicep tattoo:
Me: Here’s your Budweiser, sir. You guys doing okay otherwise?
5. The nation’s leading non-profit certification organization for heating, ventilation, air conditioning, and refrigeration technicians, and I wasn’t invited? Doesn’t seem right.
Of course I’d probably have a lot more to offer this organization:
6. I wonder how it makes military veterans feel to hear NFL players talk about “going to war” and being “in the trenches” during post-game interviews. My guess is that the vets don’t care for it, especially if the guy talking is Tom Brady or Rob Gronkowski.
Because they play for the Patriots, you see.
7. I love games. Pool, ping-pong, corn hole, bowling, etc. I LOVE ‘em. I’m 34 years old now and I still have just as much fun playing games as I did when I was ten.
When I was fifteen or sixteen, one of my stepdad’s friends visited. He was probably 40-something and I remember thinking how weird it was that he was so “old” and still obsessed with ping-pong (he carried a briefcase just for his paddles). Of course he also washed his toupee in our kitchen sink and if I recall, didn’t have a job.
Am I just a few short years away from being THAT guy, despite being gainfully employed and having a full head of hair? Shoot straight with me, really.
8. I recently learned that I can draw a pretty good circle. Not as good as this guy, mind you, but good enough make people think I’m even more of a freak. This is my latest work:
Impressed? You shouldn’t be.
9. If I ever have a family of Native Americans over for dinner, I hope I’m wise enough not to ask if they like scalloped potatoes.
10. Yeah, so my church soccer league team Cats United got ousted in the first round of the playoffs (a la the Atlanta Braves), so I’m not gonna get that Championship tshirt. I really let my team down, too. Not only did I get that red card in a pivotal game, but I also had to miss our first (and only) playoff game because of work.
I’m sorry, Coach Sohrabi. I know you were counting on me to carry us to the title, but I’m not the non-confrontational, tight-lipped player I was in my youth (though you and I both know that was a “horse shit” call) nor do have the endurance I once did (not on the soccer field, at least). I’m looking forward to next season, if you’ll have me.
11. Until yesterday I never knew “cuidado” was Spanish for “watch out for break dancers.”
Se aprende algo nuevo cada dia, I suppose.
12. I get why rock beats scissors and why scissors beats paper, but why does paper beat rock? Oh, because it “covers it”? No fucking way, man.
13. The other day I succumbed to the temptation of maybe the only real guilty pleasure I have: McDonald’s breakfast burritos. Anyway, after I got my food at the second window, I asked the lady for a “big ass handful” of hot sauce. I guess I caught her off-guard or whatever ’cause man she starting laughing like crazy. She then put about 12 packs of sauce in my bag and told me I’d made her day, which made MY day.
Have a great weekend,
Hang in there, Reggie!