The Celebrity in Me

Ever since I was 13, people have been told that I look like someone famous. I went on a missions trip to Kentucky and worked with kids at a camp down there. A couple of the kids thought I looked like Doogie Howser (Neil Patrick Harris) from the show "Doogie Howser M.D.". They called me "Doogie" all week - which was AWESOME (or should I say radically gnarly). I never really saw it. As I got older, I guess I could kind of see it. Of course, now that Neil Patrick Harris has "come out of the closet" (what happened to Wanda???) I have distanced myself from any similarities that we may have had.

A couple years after that, when I was in high school, people told me that I looked (and more specifically acted) like Chandler Bing (Matthew Perry) from the show "Friends". Of course, there were a few years in there where unfortunately he was recovering from a drug addiction and he was much heavier. That was when our similarities ended. I have never been overweight in my life. The ironic thing is that on the show Chandler marries Monica (Courtney Cox). Missy is a huge Friends fan as are a number of her......um, friends. They all agree that Missy is very much like Monica, except for the fact that Monica is tall and has black hair and Missy is more on the short side and has blond hair. Other than that, they are identical twins.

Most recently, I have been told that I look like a guy by the name of Eric Close from the show "Without a Trace". He plays a cop named Martin Fitzgerald. (I would include a picture of him but blogger is being stupid) I have never personally watched the show. However, one of my friends' parents have watched it since it started and they told me a few years ago that that every time they would turn it on, they would say, "Well, it's time to watch Ryan's show." Missy says she really sees it and every time there is a commercial on for "Without a Trace", she says, "Hey, it's you!"

However, I discovered the true way to determine what celebrity I look like several months ago. Missy and I were watching the intellectually challenging show, "Best Week Ever" on VH1. It is basically a bunch of 2nd & 3rd tier comedians who rip on whatever or whomever was in the news that week. Well, they were talking about a website called myheritage.com. Basically, you log on, create a free account and take a picture of yourself and it will analyze the picture and tell you based on this mysterious analytical algorythm what celebrities you most look like. Well Missy and I tried it and it truly is incredible to see who you look like. I have attached a link at the top that gives you a collage of who, using the picture at the top of my blog, this website says I most look like. Just click on "The Celebrity in Me" and enjoy.

So, please get a picture of yourself (preferably one that is a pretty close up shot where you are looking directly into the camera) from your computer and head over to myheritage.com. Try the face recognition program. Once and for all you will be able to see exactly what famous person you look like. I promise you will not be disappointed.

The Anguished Groans of a Philadelphia Sports Fan

Several years ago, I thought of writing an article called, "Philadelphia, Home of the Season Ending Injury". It seemed as though every major star on every major sports team in Philadelphia had been lost for the season or had missed significant time during the course of the season. There seemed to be a black cloud hanging over the city. After this past weekend, with the second consecutive season ending injury to Eagles QB Donovan McNabb, I think the major sports injury that Philadelphia sports teams inflict on fans is more painful and takes more rehab than an ACL tear or sports hernia. It's a broken heart.

There is a famous (or perhaps infamous) sports talk radio station in Philadelphia that, I believe, exists for the sole purpose of allowing Philadelphia sports fans to voice their frustration and pain over not having won a championship in a generation. In fact, they actually have a commercial that promotes the station that says, "23 years of championship disappointment.....and counting.....sports radio 610, W.I.P." The last team to win a championship was the 1983 76er's. I was barely 6. Since then the Phillies have accumulated the worst overall record of any sports team in any sport. The 76er's have been satisfied with being eliminated in the first round of the playoffs every year. The Flyer's play like champions all year and then turn into scared little school girls when they get to the playoffs.

Which leaves the Eagles. Most people in Philadelphia, myself included, consider the Eagle's their favorite team. The reason is that they have been relatively good (with a few exceptions) for a long period of time. They currently have a waiting list of season ticket holders that is over 50,000 people long. Their annual retention rate is 99.8%. That means that unless over half of the sold out stadium died of a heart attack simultaneously (which is actually not too far outside the realm of possibilities given their eating habits), almost no one on that waiting list will get season tickets in their lifetime. The problem is that this team comes every year with promise and excitement and then fails to deliver. They have developed an unbelievable knack for making you love them and believe in them in September and then ripping out your heart and driving over it with a steam roller in December or January (this year, it came early - woo hoo!). Our hopes for a championship hinge every year on the Eagles. And people wonder why Eagles fans can be so nasty. You try hoping for a team to win every year only to be kicked in between the eyes.....every year since John Kennedy was President.

From my unofficial research, Philadelphia is the only city with the four major sports teams (football, baseball, basketball and hockey) that has not won a world championship in a quarter century. New York, Chicago, St. Louis, Detroit, they have all won championships in the last few years. Heck, even small cities like Pittsburgh, Tampa Bay, Miami, Baltimore and Arizona (that's a joke, I know Arizona is a state, just chuckle and move on) have won championships in the last few years. Those Sports Illustrated ads that try and sucker people into subscribing to them by expoiting the excitement of a championship team's success makes me sick. "Hey sports fans, the Texarkana Armadillos are World Champions, get your copy of the SI Commerative edition today!" What makes me mad is that they never have had a Philadelphia sports team there. If they did, I would subscribe to SI like 50 times. We have had a few chances: the World Series in 93, the NBA finals in '01, the Super Bowl in '05 and the Stanley Cup finals sometime back in the late 90's, I think, and every time, they got beat.

All I want is one championship. I don't even care which sport. Heck, the city is so desperate that it went crazy for a few years because we had HORSES that did pretty well. Smarty Jones, he was great until the Belmont. Then we all thought that Barbaro was our triple crown winner. And then his leg broke in half. I just want to experience a parade. Just one.

So this weekend, when my team, the Philadelphia Eagles, are marched out to their official execution (their death sentence was given last week when they lost to the horrendous Tennessee Titans and lost McNabb for the year) in front of a national audience and are decapitated by the Colts, I will proudly wear my Eagles jersey for the last time this season. Once the execution is over, I will quietly fold up my jersey, as I have done every year since I have owned it, put it in my closet and think, as I have thought since I can remember following Philadelphia sports: Next year. Maybe next year.....

Two of the World's Most Powerful Words

Sorry for the delay folks. I'm back.

Just a warning before I start - this post will forever change your perspective on conversations and may make you smile at an inopportune time. You've been warned.

A few weeks ago, Missy and I went to a family reunion. Now I will say that it was good to see some of my relatives that I have not seen in a while. However, family reunions almost always generate an awkward conversation or two where you find yourself talking with someone and once the small talk runs out you just stare at each other, smile and then go for seconds on the egg salad. In fact, in one conversation the person I was talking with said "It was good to see you!" in the it's-the-end-of-the-conversation tone TWICE. The thing is, I was still talking. So I took the hint and got some chocolate cake.

This awkward conversation reminded me of a discovery that I made a few years ago. In the English language, there are two words that signal the end to any conversation. In some cases, they can cut off the conversation all by themselves. Because of this, I consider them two of the most powerful words in our vocabulary. Neither is a noun or verb or adjective. They are both considered "interjections" and one isn't even a real word (more of a contraction really). Ladies and gentlemen, I give you:

Alright

Well

Have you ever noticed this? These two words always signal that a conversation is over. Almost always, they are preluded by an awkward pause:

Person A: So that's how my cat got stuck in the garbage disposal.
(awkward pause)
Person B (looking around awkwardly): Well.......
Person A: Alright......
Both people head for the potato salad.

What makes these words most effective is when you use them in combination. They will end a conversation quickly and effectively.

Person A: I had a really good time on our date. I'm sorry I threw up in your meatloaf.
(awkward pause)
Person B: Alright, well, I should get going.

They are reversable as well.

Person A: So other than Dad's little gas issue, there's not too much happening here.
(awkward pause)
Person B: Well, alright, I'll talk to you later, Mom.

Though I don't recommend using the words this way and I'm sure I have never used them this way, these words are most powerful when they are used not only in combination but when interupting someone as well.

Person A: So then in 1943, in the Spring I think, I had just finished 3rd grade. Mrs. Martin was my teacher. She married Bill Martin. His family was Quaker, I think. Had a mean dog. I think his name was Trevor. Anyway, I had just started growing my own radishes that Spring when..
Person B: Alright well, Aunt June, I have a root canal that I just remembered I have to go to.
Person A: Oh, ok, well take some radishes before you go.

My question is this: how did these word become designated as the conversation killers? Who started using them first? How did every person come to know that when there is an awkward pause and you want the conversation to be over, you say "well", "alright" or both of them together? Why weren't other words used? I can think of a few that would make more sense. Words that mean "the end"or "it's over". And they would work most effectively if they were exclamations.

Person A: So that's how my cat got stuck in the garbage disposal.
(awkward pause)
Person B: Completion!

Person A: I had a really good time on our date. I'm sorry I threw up in your meatloaf.
(awkward pause)
Person B: Terminated!

This would work best if you were interupting the other person.

Person A: So then in 1943, in the Spring I think, I had just finished 3rd grade. Mrs. Martin was my teacher. She married Bill Martin. His family was Quaker, I think. Had a mean dog. I think his name was Trevor. Anyway, I had just started growing my own radishes that Spring when..
Person B: Conclusion!
Person A: What? Kids these days. They just don't respect their elders like they used to. When I was in 3rd grade..
Person B: Finished!

So the next time you are at a family reunion or somehow find yourself at the end of a conversation and there is an awkward pause, I ask that you wait and see what the other person says. I can almost guarantee that it will be one of the two most powerful words ever to cross our lips. And if you are feeling a little adventurous, try to end the conversation with something new.




Alright, well.................

Good times at the epidural class

Well, we went to our first childbirth class last week - the very exciting epidural class. Seeing as it was our first class dealing with the birth of our child I have to admit, we (I) was a little nervous. I had no idea what to expect. I certainly didn't expect what ended up happening.

As required by federal statute or at least by the hospital's lawyers, every woman who wants to get an epidural (an injection to make the pain of labor a little more managable) must go to a class that explains what an epidural is and how it works. Since most sane women are looking for any opportunity to cut down on the pain of childbirth (who wouldn't - you try going to the bathroom and shooting out a crying basketball), this class is pretty popular. In our class, there were about 100 people packed into a converted trailer. The temperature in the room was somewhere slightly lower than the surface of the sun.

The doctor who led the class was retired and had been delivering babies since the 1950's when they used a toilet plunger and a yoke of oxen. This guy defined the word "old school". He had probably delivered half the state of Pennsylvania, had seen it all and nothing really fazed him. He started off by saying that we would watch a wonderful video about anethesia. He then, with a sigh of annoyance, said that the video wasn't graphic but still some people (4 in the last year) had passed out, or "crashed" as he put it, watching the video. So if we felt funny, we should close our eyes and it would go away.

So the video starts and I felt like I was watching an old reel to reel movie back in elementary school. The couple who was featured in the movie (and I think were given every type of anethesia possible to show us what happens - I can't see how that baby turned out normal) were straight out of the 80's. If they they given the dad sport goggles, short shorts and knee-high tube socks, he could have played for the Lakers in the late 70's. It was fantastic.

So about the time the doctor was putting a catheter into the back of the expectant mother and I had made my 300th sarcastic comment to Missy, we heard what sounded like snoring. A guy in front of us was slumped over on his wife's shoulder. I thought he was sleeping and was about to make sarcastic comment #301 when the people around him started standing up and waving for the doctor. Then all of a sudden, the guy started seizing.

The doctor, of course, didn't miss a beat. He turned on the lights and then, knowing what was most important, rushed right past the convulsing father-to-be and turned the movie off. By the time he got to the guy, he had stopped seizing but was a color that I had never seen in a human being before-a cauliflower maybe-but not a human. He insisted that he was fine. The doctor turned to the very anxious wife and asked how she was doing. She said something incoherent and then SHE went down. Again, the doctor sprung to action. He got her on the ground and had cauliflower man keep her feet elevated. He then yelled in her face, "Hey, can you hear me?". After yelling this about 10 times, she finally came to. He asked for someone to call for an ambulance. Once she was coherent (and still lying on the floor) and the ambulance was called, the doctor said, "Well, while we're waiting...." and then went up to the front of room and proceeded to talk about different types of anethesia. Most people would stay with an expectant mother and her ghostly husband to make sure nothing else happened but this guy had to get through his material by 8:00! Priorities, people! At one point, he asked for a show of hands of how many first time mothers there were in the room. And then, I guess because he couldn't see her hand because she was on the floor, walked over to see the faint woman and asked, "How about you, are you a first time mom?" After she weakly raised her hand, he acknowledged her contribution to the survey and said, "Yes, I kind of thought you were."

Once the ambulance came (which took a surprisingly long time considering we were actually taking the class at the hospital) and wheeled out the fragile couple (to which we applauded encouragingly), the remainder of the class was relatively uneventful. The doctor did go over many things that could go wrong during an epidural which did not do much to calm the nerves of many first timers like us. He would flipantly (and even with a hint of annoyance) say things like, "Well, sometimes we put too much anethesia into the spinal space and then the mother loses consciousness. Then we have to put her on a gurney and it's kind of a pain." He would throw around terms like "collapsing" and "seizures" which would leave us looking at each other saying, "Did he just say there could be a seizure?" By the time we turned our attention back to him, he was talking about a needle or something.

Surprisingly, we left there feeling ok about the whole process but I think we were most relieved that this doctor was now retired and that we wouldn't be seeing a toilet plunger or yoke of oxen anytime soon.

Comments Anyone???

In my continuing education of blogging, I realized that I had set the comment page to "Only allow Blogger members to comment". Since I am not an elitist, I want anyone to tell me how much they love (or hate) my posts, I switched it. So now anyone can comment and PLEASE, I hope you do.

I'm sorry for not realizing and making this switch earlier. I was starting to develop a complex because no one was commenting. Now I know that I am just an ignorant idiot. What a relief!

Happy commenting everyone.

Also, thanks for your emails about the blog. They have been very encouraging. Please keep them coming. If you have any ideas of things I could write about or if you have any issues with what I write, please don't hesitate to let me know.

Love you all.