Me, Her, the Boy and a Dog

Apparently there’s something wrong with me. At birth, there must have been a mutation of some gene, or lack of a chemical, or a damaged synapses that has left me without the ability to understand why some people feel that certain musical artists are “geniuses” or “brilliant.”

Here are three artists that I just don’t get. I don’t understand what all the fuss is about…

Bruce Springsting
The Rolling Stones
Prince

What is so great about these artists? Sure, they’ve had some decent hits, but I hear a lot of people refer to them as “geniuses” and I don’t get it.

What makes them geniuses? Is it the fact that you can hardly understand a word Springsteen is singing? Or, could it be that the Stones did so many drugs that they achieved nirvana? Or, maybe it’s Prince’s ability to stroke his guitar as though he were simulating a sex act and having the guitar shoot liquid out as to simulate a male orgasm. I wonder? Have we really set the bar that low to be a genius? Albert Einstein was a genius.

I don’t really like or get any of their music. And when the zealots hear me say that, they look at me like I just admitted that I eat kittens for breakfast, lunch and dinner. The look of sheer disgust and indignation is clearly evident. But, I don’t care. I guess I give them the same look when they tell me that those artists are geniuses. C’est la vie, oui?

While rifling through my Google Reader I came across a CNET article about the California Supreme Court ruling that noncompete clauses are invalid. The California law has been around since 1872, and forbids “noncompete clauses” that restrict management employees’ options in their next job or business. According to the CNET.com article, the law has been interpreted differently throughout the state. In fact, the 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals in San Francisco has ruled in favor of allowing a company to restrict their employees’ future job choices, as long as it does not prevent them from working in the same field.

Today’s ruling was in response to Edwards vs. Arthur Andersen, a case that clearly states that Edwards, a tax manager, signed an invalid noncompete clause. The court said in its final disposition (see PDF) that “Non-competition agreements are invalid…in California even if narrowly drawn.”

This ruling jumps out at me because as a former television reporter/anchor, I was forced to sign contracts with noncompete clauses. Those clauses stated that as an on-air personality I could not appear on camera for a competitor in the same market within 12 months of the end of my contract with the current station. It didn’t prevent another station from hiring me, they just couldn’t put me on-air, which, of course, defeated the purpose.

I’m not familiar with contract law in the Commonwealth, but I do know that Virginia is right to work state. So, my question is, how can TV stations restrict an employee’s right to work at another TV station? Seems to be a conflict there. Any lawyers want to tackle that question? Wait, never mind, you’d probably bill me at $450 an hour.

Nic and I went to the park today. We tried to go berry pickin’ but didn’t get there until 11:30 a.m., and they close at … you guessed it, 11:30 a.m. So, we headed over the park and played for about two hours.

Nic met a lot of little kids there, but befriended a little boy named Austin, who was at the park with his dad, Scott, his mom and his older brother. Scott was kind enough to snap a picture of me and Nic. Nic doesn’t get to be around kids his age very often, so I am always worried how he’ll interact with them, but he did a great job today, with some gentle reminders from his old (and getting older) man.

At one point, Austin was ahead of Nic on this monkey-bar type ladder that kids walk up to get to the slides when he slipped and started to fall. His dad was right there and was able to grab his leg, but not before Austin’s little head bumped one of the bars. Instictively, I lunged forward and manage to grab his little arm before he hit the ground. It was about a six-foot drop, which for a 2-year-old is quite a drop.

Austin was just fine; he was more scared than anything. But, he only cried for a couple of minutes before he was ready to tackle the monkey-bar bridge thing again. When Nic first started climbing that thing, he slipped once, but he was able to hold on with his arms long enough for me to secure him, so he didn’t take quite the tumble that he witnessed today.

I found it interesting that even though you are on the playground with your kids, as a parent, you are also concerned about the safety and well-being of other kids. Well, at least I hope that’s how most responsible and caring parents feel. After the Austin incident was over, I started thinking about how I had left Nic on the ladder for a couple of seconds to help Austin. I didn’t think about it at the time, I just reacted. Granted, Nic has been climbing this ladder for a long time and 99 out of 100 times, he gets up there without a problem. But I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for leaving him, if only for a couple of seconds and just a few feet away.

This morning I got up and contemplated skipping church. In fact, at one point I said to myself (out loud), “Yeah, I’ll just go next week.” I stopped ironing my shirt and was prepared to just plop down on the couch and veg. But something told me that I should really go today. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was the Lord giving me a swift kick in the rear, but after a few seconds of standing around in boxers and a t-shirt, I continued getting ready.

I proceded to get dressed, made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, grabbed my bible and drove the .83 miles to the church. Yep, .83 miles and I considered slacking … how bad is that? Though I decided to make the hop, skip and a jump to Blacksburg Christian Fellowship (BCF), the church I attended as an undergrad at Virginia Tech, I wasn’t really thrilled because last week’s sermon was painfully long; like an hour and a half long. I feel bad saying that about a church sermon, but it’s the truth, which leads me to today’s sermon.

BCF isn’t like traditional churches in that it is ministered by a council of elders (not necessarily “old” people) who take turns giving sermons. I like this approach because it keeps you on your toes and each of the pastors have their different way of conveying their messages. Today’s sermon was given by Keith Onishi, a missionary visiting from Venezuela with his wife and three children (all of whom were born here in Blacksburg). Keith was … AWESOME!

Listen to his sermon here.

He didn’t just preach at us, he shared with us how God has worked through him and others to make this world a better place. He didn’t just spout random bible verses, he explained how they applied to actual situations experienced by him and his family as missionaries in Venezuela. Today’s sermon was focused on honesty.

“The Lord detests lying lips, but he delights in men who are truthful.”
~ Proverbs 12:22 (New International Version).

Before he got started, he asked each of us (and it was a PACKED house today with most of the students returning) if we considered ourselves liars. He didn’t want us raising our hands, he just asked the question. He ventured a guess that most of us wouldn’t consider ourselves as such, but then he asked, “Do you always tell the truth.” I’m pretty sure that there wasn’t a person in the hall today that could have honestly said “yes.” Of course not, Keith said. We’re all human.

It’s not always easy or right to be honest, he said, but it is what we should always strive to do because right, wrong or indifferent, being honest means not carrying the burden of secrets.

I could easily write a 20-page recap and review of today’s sermon, but who would honestly read that? Instead, I’ll say that I am not always honest with the people I love. I’m not always honest with myself. But there’s one person to whom I cannot lie and that is the Lord. He knows my heart’s true intention and only he can judge me when my time comes.

Keith admitted to the congretation his secrets and his lies, one of which was shocking, but I understood what he was talking about and why he was sharing it with us … because God tells us that by sharing our secrets with followers of Christ and to Christ himself, we will be freed from the burden of our sins and forgiven. Some know it as confession. Be sincere in your asking of forgiveness and God will know your heart’s true intent and if it is pure, you will be forgiven.

Wow, that was pretty heavy stuff, huh? Probably not what some of you would expect from me. This may make some of you uncomfortable to know this about me. I’m not some goodie two shoes who always lives life on the straight and narrow, but I like to think that I’m a good person and I try to do the right thing most of the time. Those that truly know me, understand. Those that don’t, I’d love to talk more about it.

Lastly, my confession to you today is that when I go to church, I feel like a poser, like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, like I don’t belong there. I am a sinner and I am in no way perfect, but then again, isn’t that the kind of person who absolutely needs to be in church? And if you can look yourself in the mirror as a Christian and say to yourself that you are not a sinner and don’t need to seek forgiveness, then you, my friend, are a liar. Sounds harsh, but the truth sometimes is … trust me, I know.

Today has been a movie marathon. First I went to see The Dark Knight; then came home and watched The Mothman Prophecies; capping off the evening with my latest Netflix movie, Live Free or Die Hard (I’m actually still watching it - I like to multitask). Yes, this post will get to the ice cream part, promise.

I decided to break out the Moosetracks Ice Cream, but my freezer was apparently too cold, so I thought I’d set the ice cream out and let it thaw a bit. Well, “a bit” turned out to be like an hour. Oops! Ah, but there’s a silver lining! For those who know what Moosetracks ice cream is, you’ll know that there are little tiny chocolate peanut butter cups burried in the ice cream, like little nuggets of heaven. And when ice cream is melted, they are much easier to find! I’m sure just buying Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups would be much easier, but fishing for them in ice cream was kinda fun. :)

I saw a recent Twitter post about some controversial ads by Wrangler depicting what appears to be semi-nude female corpses wearing tattered and torn Wrangler jeans. I found two blogs that have these alleged ads; click here or here to see them, but be warned, they are rather disturbing.

I’m questioning the authenticity of these ads. I have yet to see them published anywhere on a major Web site or print publication. I realize that there are thousands of publication I do not read or see, so they may be out there. All I’m asking is for a little proof before people start crucifying a company that has good old boy NASCAR driver Dale Earnhardt, Jr. as one of its highest profile spokespersons.

If Wrangler is indeed behind these ads, then let ‘em have it. But why am I only seeing isolated images? Why haven’t I see a picture of this ad in an actual newspaper or magazine? Additionally, I Googled “Wrangler ads controversy” in Google’s news search and came back with nothing. Zilch. Nada. If these ads were real, wouldn’t the press be all over this? I’d expect full scale assualts by Glen Beck on CNN and congressional hearings by hypocritcal politicians on the hill. Instead, I see nothing. Nothing but a some bloggers posting pics without any proof of origin.

This is the dark side of socail media that concerns me. The scenario exists (and has played out) where someone posts a couple of pictures and says they’re authentic; they post it on their blog; their readers pick it up and forward it out and reblog and Twitter, and the next thing you know, an innocent company is getting crucified and they don’t even know about it until it’s too late.

Like I said, these ads may be real, but let’s do a little research first before we march pitchforks-in-hand to the Wrangler headquarters. It’s just like those hoax e-mails that people read and think “Oh my God! I have to warn the others!” and then forward it out when in actuality, they can Google it and find out if it’s a hoax. Two minutes people! The same amount of time it takes you to hit the “Share on Facebook” button and submit it to your blog.

Responsibility and accountability … think about it.

Yesterday, I was sitting in my office, which is located in a hallway. Yes, a hallway. You see, I had a nice office in Roanoke, but with gas prices being ridiculously high, our boss pushed to get the team assigned back to the Blacksburg office since all three of us live in Blacksburg. Seemed like a no-brainer to me, but it took more than six month. Go figure!

The tradeoff to moving back to the Blacksburg office was that we’d have to set up shop in a hallway because there weren’t any offices available. We’re saving money on gas and we’re reducing our carbon footprint (the greenies like that logic), so it’s all good.

So, back to my anecdote. Yesterday, I was sitting at my desk (I know, deja vu, right?) when I get a call from a co-worker whose desk is at the end of the hall and on the right (in the picture). I’d say 30-40 feet, tops. So, I can hear this co-worker, who’s “office” is also in an open area, both on the phone and from down the hall … in stereo. She asks for some information and I redirected her to another coworker whose office less than 10 feet from my desk (the first door on the right in the picture). The “in stereo” coworker politely thanks me and hangs up. A couple of seconds later, I see her walking down the hall, toward me, and she pops her head into the other coworker’s office.

If I have to explain why this is funny, then you’re probably one of those people who calls your coworkers when you could just as easily could get up and walk 30 feet to their desk. Seroiusly, I thought I was IN an episode of the office.

The other day I was talking to a “real world” friend about a cool new Web site I discovered. Actually, I didn’t discover it, a “Twitter” friend did. I was asked by the real world friend, “How did you hear about the site?” I replied, “My friend on Twitter told me about it.” To which they responded, “Your friend … on … Twitter? Have you ever met this person or is this one of your cyber dork ‘friends’?” At first I was a little offended; I’m a geek, not a dork - geeks are smarter than dorks. Outside of that, I started thinking; with the advent and proliferation of social media like Facebook, MySpace, Twitter, Plaxo, etc., what exactly is considered a “friend” these days?

What is a Friend?
Before social media, I had three general classifications of friends; friends, good friends, best friends. Friends were people whose company I enjoyed from time to time and would talk with. Good friends were people I sought out to do things with and were among the first people I’d call if I needed something. Best friends, as with most people, was a very private club. These are the people that you could call at 2 a.m., when the bars closed looking for a sober ride home and they’d come, no questions asked. And that was about it when it came to friends. I also had acquaintences and co-workers, but the former were a step below friends and the latter could sometimes be any level of friends. Today, I’m finding that my antiquated organizational system may need a face(book)lift.

Social Media Friends

The concept behind friendship is changing. I still have friends, good friends and best friends, but I also have “friends” on Twitter, Facebook, MySpace, as well as VTHokiefans.com, TechHoops.com, VT.Fanfoc.us and Techsideline.com; all Virginia Tech sports sites. Most of my “friends” on Facebook and MySpace are people I have met at some point in my life. But some of my other “friends” I have only seen in pictures and “talked” with them online. I even have friends and family who are luddites and refuse to get involved with nefarious online social networking/media tools … something about the downfall of civilization and moral values. Whatever. Go back to reading your “newspaper.” I also have friends that I haven’t seen or spoken to in years, but when we do, pick up where we left off.

Well, My Friends…

My point is that the definition of a “friend” doesn’t have to be some predetermined, inflexible concept - it can be whatever is important to you. Friendship shouldn’t be restricted to someone else’s beliefs. If you consider someone in your life a friend, end of story. Let others think what they want. Just use your common sense and don’t let your online friends completely replace your human friends. I’m not a sociologist, but I would imagine that complete isolation isn’t a good thing. Think Laslow from the 1985 Val Kilmer film Real Genius. If you don’t get that reference and haven’t seen the movie, I might have to reconsider whether you are really my friend. :)

I’m angry. I’m confused. I just don’t understand. I know I never will, at least not during my time here on Earth. Today I joined a Facebook group called “Stand Up 2 Cancer” in honor of my immediate family members who have fought cancer and in some cases, died from it. I joined to support them, as well as my friends who have been affected by this horrible disease that does not discriminate.

I posted a message on the group’s wall just sending thoughts and prayers to all those who need it. Shortly after posting my message, I got a random Facebook e-mail from a girl I went to high school with. We were not friends in high school, we were just classmates. I recognized the name, but barely. She told me how much it meant to know that there were so many people, like me, who just pray for complete strangers and offer support. She went on to tell me that her 4-year-old son Chase has stage 4 cancer.

Cancer is everywhere. My aunt died from cancer. Someone very close to me had it and is a survivor. A friend at work lost her 12-year-old niece to cancer and another co-worker is battling it now. The list goes on and on. You cannot escape it … everyone is at risk, so hearing that someone has cancer is unfortunately not surprising. Hearing that someone’s baby has it is beyond heartbreaking.

I’m a proud and loving father to a beautiful little boy, Nic, who is my whole world. Anyone who knows me, knows that. I cannot, nor do I want to imagine going through what Chase is going through, or what his parents are going through.

My faith is being tested today because I cannot wrap my mind around why God would let this happen to a beautiful innocent child. I have to believe that there is a bigger plan that we just don’t understand, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

I am praying for Chase and his mom, his dad and his big sister. I don’t know them, but I don’t have to. I’m a parent and a human being, those are the only reasons I need to keep them in my thoughts and prayers. I would also ask that you take a few moments out of your day and say a prayer for them. They are strong, especially little Chase, but they still need all the support they can get.

Follow Chase’s story here.

I was playing Wii Sports last night and after several tennis matches and some spirited boxing matches (which I won, naturally), I decided to take the Wii Age Fitness test.

The first challenge was tennis; specifically returning 50 volleys and keeping them in-bounds; I was 48/50.

The second challenge was a homerun hitting contest. Hit as many home runs as I could in 10 pitches; I hit nine homers including two that were out of the park - all steriod- and HGH-free.

The third challenge was boxing related. Your “trainer” throws tennis balls at you and you have to duck and dodge them - a great ab workout if you do it correctly. I scored pretty high; points for the number of balls dodged and negative points for balls that hit you.

I was feeling pretty good about my performance and thought I’d score a pretty low “Wii Fitness Age.” Imagine my shock when I saw “36” come up on the screen! WHAT?! NO WAY! Then, just as I was about to fill out my AARP membership form, the 36 start to slide down the screen and there was this whimsical music playing before “23” jumped onto the screen.

Ha ha, Wii. Very funny. My fitness age was really 23, but it would appear that Nintendo saw fit to give the Wii a sense of humor. We are not amused.