Monday, October 26, 2009

Not a Word I Heard Could I Relate, The Story Was Quite Clear

Tying up a few loose ends from this weekend...

Thanks to Tim Henderson for telling me about the following video depicting the emerging sport* of anvil shooting.


The best part of that entire video? "Women ask why would I want to do that? Men say that's pretty cool." That's the essence of the difference between the sexes, right? None of this "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus" stuff. Guys just want to see large pieces of metal get blown to Kingdom Come and have no regard for the actual "why?" behind the action.


In other news, the lady friend passed along the following story about David Cross (a.k.a. Dr. Tobias Funke) allegedly dappling in the Columbian nose candy** while at the White House Correspondents' Dinner early this year. If true, I sincerely hope that Cross has footage of the event, if only so that we can see evidence of how Tobias Funke would interact with the Leader of the Free World whilst high as a kite.

If you heard a large amount of shouting coming from the Scott household on Sunday afternoon (I traveled home for a friend's wedding), it was because we witnessed another triumph of Good over Evil in this world as Liverpool defeated the English Evil Empire by the score of 2 to nothing courtesy of goals from Fernando "The Man, the Myth, the Legend" Torres and Davig N'Gog. My Dad gave N'Gog the less than stellar nickname of "Pear-head", but don't worry, David, I don't think the new nick-name will catch on across the pond.

*May not actually be an emerging sport.

**Not recommended for actual use by children...or anyone who might older than a child.

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Friday, October 23, 2009

Because We Separate Like Ripples on a Blank Shore

Congratulations to Mr. John Middleton for correctly naming "Money for Nothing" by Dire Straits as the Thursday Song of the Day.

As I was typing the name "Dire Straits", I wasn't sure if it was just "Dire Straits" or "THE Dire Straits." This is the problem that has been created by one person, The Edge (a.k.a. David Evans) of U2.
Bill Simmons has worked through the comedy of this situation many, many times, so I don't want to kick, shoot, and beat a dead comedic horse here, but let's just say that last week when I was at the U2 show, and someone walked up and said, "Here's some backstage passes; you can meet the band." When I walked backstage, what should I say to them?

"Hello Bono, hello Adam, hello Larry, hello...THE...Edge."

"No, it's just Edge. No "the" in front of Edge."

"Oh, sorry. I thought you were the only Edge, not one Edge among many. You should really think about cornering that market on edges. People are going to start confusing you with that Anthony Hopkins/Alec Baldwin movie from 1997."
"Okay, I'll look into that. Thanks."

Current Reading
King of the Club: Richard Grasso and the Survival of the New York Stock Exchange by Charles Gasparino

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Thursday, October 22, 2009

We've Gotta Move These Refrigerators, We've Gotta Move These Color TVs

One of the unwritten rules that exists for adults is as follows:

Rule 345: When meeting a new person, you should demonstrate interest in said person by asking where they are from (Whatever that means these days in a country as transient as America).

As such, when asked the aforementioned question "Where are you from?", I throw out "Tyler" as a response. This is obviously a bold-faced lie, but let's be honest, it's better than taking time to work my way through the dog-and-pony show of:

"Well, actually I'm from a town called Whitehouse, which is right outside Tyler."

"Whitehouse? You mean, where the President lives?"

"My goodness, such original humor from you. I've never heard that one before."

Quick Tangent: There are two instances where the fact that I'm from Whitehouse was a source of great amusement.

1. As I was sitting in English class during my junior year of high school, one of my classmates turned to me and said,"Justin, I get it. The drill team is called the "First Ladies", because we're Whitehouse." This guy may or may not have smoked a lot of pot, but I was simply thankful to be present when someone made a landmark intellectual breakthrough. It was probably equivalent to being near Robert Oppenheimer while he worked on the Manhattan Project. At least that's what I tell myself.

2. In keeping with the hallowed tradition of wit that is sign-making by Texas high school cheerleaders, one of the schools that we played in high school proudly displayed a sign that read "Murder at 1600" along their sideline. Given that the game wasn't played in the direct aftermath of the events of November 22, 1963, everyone had a good laugh and admired the humor available from Presidential address jokes.



Back to the story at hand...when I tell people I'm from Tyler, that usually leads to a discussion of "What was it like to grow up there?" I then put on my Tyler-area Chamber of Commerce hat and dish out platitudes like "It's a great place to raise a family" (again, whatever that means), but my favorite thing to mention about Tyler, and East Texas in general, that while it is certainly part of Texas (as if this fact were disputed by cartographers), it also feels like growing up in the Old South. For better or worse, you could pluck East Texas from the Lone Star State and place it in Mississippi, Alabama, or Georgia and probably not be able to tell the difference. There are old plantation homes in the city, downtown has brick-lined streets, and sadly, the city is still fairly segregated along racial lines.


I say all of that to say this...even though I've grown up my entire life in Big XII country, in a state with a national powerhouse like Texas, regional powers like T.C.U., Texas Tech, and the artist formerly known as Texas A&M, I'm fascinated with the SEC. Maybe it's just that I've a few good books on the SEC experience (Warren St. John's "Rammer Jammer Yellow Hammer" and Clay Travis's "Dixieland Delight" in particular), and none on the Big XII experience, but in my book, you can't beat the SEC.


I can probably chalk it up to a few too many afternoons listening to the dulcet tones of Verne Lundquist wafting across the airwaves as CBS broadcasts from exotic locales such as Baton Rouge, Louisiana, Athens, Georgia, Tuscaloosa, Alabama, and Oxford, Mississippi, but I have drank the SEC kool-aid and I have drank it deeply. When teams such as Alabama and Auburn in the Iron Bowl each year, it doesn't seem as much a football game as an extension of some old Southern feud like the Hatfields and the McCoys.

Which is why I'm very excited to say that next Saturday, Oct. 31st (exact time to be determined), with the company of Cole and Audra Griffith, the lady friend and I will be attending our inaugural SEC game in Knoxville, Tennessee as the Gamecocks of South Carolina (led by the head ball coach himself, Steve Spurrier) pay a visit to Rocky Top.

Despite pressure from the lady friend to wear some variant of the color orange to support the home team (she's a current resident of the great state of Tennessee and is thus likely simply fulfilling her duty as taxpayer), I have made my decision to not wear any Vols' gear well known. Even though only a small group of people would know that I was a Vols' fan poser, I would know, and as Alex Rodriguez taught us, if you can't be honest with yourself, who can you be honest with? As such, I'll be wearing neutral colors into Neyland Stadium, and I will certainly not be wearing any South Carolina-related paraphernalia I want to come back alive from Knoxville and not in a pine box, after all.

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Monday, October 19, 2009

We'll Find a Way Regardless to Make Some Sense Out of This Mess

As we get things started tonight, please give your warmest Running Down a Dream welcome to Katie and Kevan Kirksey, the sister and brother-in-law, and their new blog, creatively titled "The Kirkseys." Edgy, I know. Be sure to regularly check in with them for their adventures in the Rose City, reasons why galaxy really is a terrible organization, and interior design tips. Should be good times, folks.

I suppose I shouldn't go down the dangerous road of beginning to play the excuse game, but if there's one overriding reason that I haven't been writing consistently, it's because my internet service has been less reliable than an Afghani election (cue rimshot).

I've said it before in another forum, but here goes again: I would say that Comcast is the Khmer Rouge of cable companies, but I don't want to be unfair to the Khmer Rouge.
With that said, I'm going to soldier on, overcome these momentary setbacks, and do my very best (SCOUT'S HONOR. Psssst, I quit the Cub Scouts.) to get back on the proverbial blogging horse. Hopefully the previous sentence set the all-time record for mixed metaphors.

Current Reading

Can I Keep My Jersey: 11 Teams, 5 Countries, and 4 Years in My Life as a Basketball Vagabond by Paul Shirley

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Monday, October 12, 2009

You Fight for a Nickel, You Die for a Dime

Great news out of Abilene today as ACU rose to the #1 spot in Division II football rankings for the first time in program history.

With the news, I've noticed a strange correlation between my departure from a school and that school's subsequent success of the gridiron.



  • I graduated from Whitehouse High in 2002. As of my graduation, the Wildcats had made the playoffs once in 23 years. After my graduation, the Cats made the playoffs in 2006 and 2007 and are now no longer a laughingstock in the East Texas football discussion.

  • After graduating from ACU, the program made the D-II playoffs for the first time in 2006, had an undefeated regular season in 2008, and as stated earlier, has achieved the inaugural #1 ranking in school's history.

  • Baylor has....well, Baylor is still Baylor.
So, even though the Bears have yet to reap the full rewards of my matriculation, I think fans of the Green and Gold should get ready for some unprecedented success on the banks of the Brazos.

Any donations and gifts that you would like to send to yours truly would be greatly appreciated.


Current Reading

Londonistan by Melanie Phillips

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