Bert's been circled!

And now he's headed to Cooperstown. Congratulations, sir; you've waited much too long for this honor.

Two questions

1: Have you ever had one of those really bad headaches that you know--that you're dead certain--is from dehydration (based on the fact that you've had lots of coffee--THREE CUPS!--and little water--one cup--in the course of an entire day), so you chug a glass of water, but that only intensifies the headache, so you decide to let a mouthful of water sit in your mouth, hoping that your body's tissue will absorb it, send a signal to your brain that says, "We're not dried out anymore!" and the headache will go away, but instead you forget about the water in your mouth because you're exhausted--probably from being so dehydrated--and pass out, only to be violently awakened by a dream where you were drowning in puddle water, when in fact you were choking in real life on the forgotten water trickling down your throat?

2. It's still Tuesday, right?

Seinfeld Time-Warp: an exercise in becoming self-aware

I have a tendency to repeat myself, usually when rehashing anecdotes or tidbits of useless information (which I'm full of. Don't believe me? Just wait!). I'll forget that I've told someone something and start reading from the script in my head. Even if the person has already heard the what I have to say, I still feel the need to finish so as not to develop a brain aneurysm. It's like I need to retell a story X number of times in order to fulfill a quota, the amount of which is not readily known to me. Does that even make sense?

Anyway, I've found this gaping hole in a Seinfeld episode, pertaining to its passage of time. I bring this up because the episode was on last night. I've brought up this example to several people, and I feel that by writing it down here I'll accomplish two things: 1.) it'll eat up a portion of my quota, and 2.) I can refer people to this post in lieu of telling them the same story for the 20th time. I do have a tendency to repeat myself, you know.

So the Seinfeld episode I'm talking about is titled "The Nap." Here's a brief recap: Jerry has hired a carpenter to make him some new cabinets; however, this guy needs his hand held through every step of the process, which causes Jerry to achieve a Larry David level of frustration. Meanwhile, George finds that without a midday nap, he's not able to function properly. So he asks this carpenter--Connie, Conrad, Con; whatever you prefer--to expand the space beneath his desk at work to accommodate his sleeping on the job.

Kramer can't seem to find a pool big or free enough to satisfy his need for swimming 8 million laps a day, so he begins to swim in the East River. Elaine's boyfriend has a bad back and he buys her an orthopedic bed from the Lumbar Yard. She gets offended, figuring he's "expecting a roll in the supportive hay." She gives the bed to Kramer who funkifies it with East River stink. When Elaine confronts her boyfriend about the bed, he tells her that he ordered the bed with her body dimensions in mind. Instantly, she feels flattered and asks Kramer to return the mattress, which is when she finds out that Kramer has funkified the mattress.

Jesus Christ, what a shitty summary. Good thing I don't start teaching two sections of Comp in the next two weeks.

ANYWAY, to get to my point I'll skip some of the nuances of the episode, since I haven't been concise so far. The massive time-warp occurs at the end of the episode. Elaine is trying to move the stanky mattress out of her apartment, but her back goes out and she becomes trapped under the bed of funk. She calls Jerry to come help her out. At the same time, the ticking of an alarm clock in George's work desk causes George Steinbrenner, his boss, to alert the authorities. Earlier in the episode George was trapped under his desk mid-map when Steinbrenner came looking for him and wouldn't leave his office. George called Jerry and told him to call in a bomb threat. The call to the bomb squad is warranted.

Cut to Kramer preparing to do laps in the East River, only to find that Elaine's boyfriend has told his chiropractor how swimming in the East River has worked wonders for his back, and that the chiropractor recommended it to all of his patients.

Cut to the bomb squad sawing through the desk to find out if there's a bomb in there. Then cut back to the East River where all Kramer's laps are being impeded by all of the chiropractor's patients. Including Elaine, who just moments ago was trapped under a funky mattress. That's the time-warp. The way the episode is setup makes it seem as though this is all happening in the same day. If there was a call to a bomb squad, they certainly wouldn't wait a day to show up to the site. Especially when that site is in Yankee stadium, where George works.

How did Elaine get to the East River so fast?

God, that was exhausting. Probably even more so for those of you just read it. Sorry about that. Maybe I won't need to ever repeat this or any other story, now that I know what it's like to be on the other end of them.

Bulls. Wolves. Minneapolis. March. I'm there.

So, here's a quick update on the Bulls-Wolves tickets I had written about in a previous post. I ended up shelling out the cash for two more Green Mill pizzas. They were on sale for $5 a piece at Cub, so I figured why not. That brings the total money spent on pizzas to $24. Add postage (for sending in all the paperwork), round up, and we're at $25 total.

The tickets arrived today, and I expected to see two things: a high number after the Aisle/Row heading and a low number after the price. Instead, I was surprised to find that the "Eat like a Wolf" promotion dishes out good seats. Mine are 100-level seats that have a face-value of $40 a pop. The T-Wolves website gives you a 3-D preview of your seats here (ours are section 126, row R). Not too bad.

So my point is that if you come across one of these free ticket promotions, go for it. Even if you initially toss out the required proofs of purchase, it's still worth it.

Paradigm shift in sports writing

For the longest time, I had this irrational hatred of Bill Simmons's writing. I think it stemmed from my very rational hatred for ESPN (which contains some of the most self-serving, hackneyed programming on television today). Whenever I read an article by Simmons, I'd redirect my anger that I have for his employer and apply it toward his specific work. Recently, however, I've been able to compartmentalize my hostilities, and I think that's largely in part to the fact that he can really write.

Which is kinda the point of his latest article on ESPN. (I know, I know--if I hate ESPN so much, why do I keep reading? Answer's simple: I...uh... No comment.) Anyway, if you have the time you should read his take on the new boxing movie, The Fighter. It's not just a movie review; he's also commenting on the state of sports movies and how they've had to evolve from the formulaic story lines of the last thirty-plus years. Sports movies today have to compete with the high quality sports documentaries you find on the indie screen, HBO, and (surprise, surprise) ESPN.

But he hits the nail on the head when he states that in order to compete with documented "real life" stories, fiction writers need to step it up. He compares this need for producing better stories in film to what has become the new standard in television drama: compelling, character-driven narrative (like "The Sopranos," "The Wire," and "Mad Men"). It's my belief that these shows were the result of television screenwriters needing to compete with "reality TV" for viewers. The only way these shows were going to succeed at drawing in viewers was to produce something worth watching.

For a more articulate take, check out Bill Simmons's story here.

So, let's see what's in the news.

Hey! Obama signed the repeal of "Don't Ask, Don't Tell" into law. Great news for a section of our brave soldiers who have served their country, while being forced to mask their identity. That's progress!

Of course, you wouldn't necessarily get that sense of forward-thinking if you saw the Star Tribune's website today. Check out this screen shot on their main page:

Notice anything that seems a little, I don't know, backwards? How about the highlighted subheading for this story, which reads, "Gays"? One could make the argument that on its own the word "gays" isn't necessarily homophobic. But given the fact that the word is used as a category or tag for a story on gay rights, it does appear to be about as sensitive as a thick foot callous.

I wonder if this is a reflection on the Strib's obliviousness to decency, or if the newspaper is catering to a specific audience. Either way, the use of the word "Gays" here is definitely inappropriate. And I think the Strib caught on, since they updated their website an hour later.

"Ban repealed." Why didn't they go with that in the first place?

Fifteen steps to insanity

1. I planned on purchasing tickets to the Wolves-Bulls game that takes place in March.
2. We needed--yes, needed--frozen pizzas.
3. The market had coupons glued to one of its freezer doors, stating that the purchase of two Green Mill pizzas would yield two tickets to any Timberwolves home game.
4. Green Mill pizzas are not very good, and they're definitely not worth $7 a pop.
5. But two tickets and two pizzas for $14? I figured, why not.
6. Here's what the T-Wolves front office needed in exchange for the tickets: the coupon from the market, a copy of my receipt, proofs of purchase from each pizza box, a form stating to which game I'd like tickets.
7. I was surprised they didn't ask for video of me eating the pizza to ensure that I didn't just throw it away.
8. I almost took care of sending in all the necessary documentation right away, but to do so I would have had to scan said documentation (for my own records).
9. Because I didn't feel like plugging my computer into the printer, the papers didn't get scanned and the request for tickets was not mailed.
10. Kate and I made and ate the pizzas over the next few days, and we confirmed that Green Mill pizzas are not very good.
11. But, hey. Even when pizza's not very good, it's still pizza.
12. At least, that's what I tell myself after eating mediocre pizza.
13. Today I realized that I forgot to remove the proofs of purchase from both of the Green Mill boxes.
14. The trashman picked up recycling on Thursday, so those boxes are long gone.
15. I'm debating whether or not it's worth buying two more pizzas (which would bring my total up to $28) for tickets that probably go for $10 a piece at face value.