Electricity is a Crutch

The weather here in Iraq has been phenomenal of late. Back home I'm sure you are familiar with the term Top 10 day. I would say that we have had roughly 40 Nebraska Top 10 days in a row here at lovely LSA Anaconda. The high has been around 65 or 70, very little breeze, and sunny every day. It really doesn't get much better in my book. The low has been between 35 and 40, but the nice thing is that is usually overnight and by the time it cools off I'm tucked away in my cozy twin bed in my 10x12 slice of heaven, with the heater set on 70 degrees, dreaming sweet dreams of ribeyes, blue n' chromes, and my wife and son.

That is until Saturday. For some unknown reason, we lost power to the whole base sometime in the afternoon. This has happened before, and usually it is back on within a few hours. The office has its own generator, so work of course didn't stop, but our hootches were out of power and therefore without heat and lights. By 10 o'clock we were a little worried as it had been about 5 hours and still no power. The blanket that I use is really thin (to minimize packing space) so I was seriously doubting its ability to keep me warm. I actually dug out my Army issued sleeping bag which I turned out to be a smart move that some of my lazier co-workers regretted not making. I fully anticipated that in the middle of the night the power would kick back on and all would be well. I drifted off to sleep without my usual tv shows to keep me company, cursing the horror of it all. Don't let anyone tell you different, life in this man's Army isn't always easy.

The worst part was waking up in the morning. I was actually pretty warm snuggled up in my cold weather sleeping bag, but at 0600 the temp in my trailer was about 40 degrees. I think I could even see my breath. Getting dressed was painful, as my clothes were also about 40 degrees. I hightailed it to the office so I could bring my core temp back to 98.6. I even broke out the black fleece coat, which is affectionately referred to as the bear suit. Of course my buddies all made fun of me for wearing a coat because it wasn't that cold, but that was to be expected and I would have done the same thing had the Hammer showed up dressed like I was.

I headed down to church at 0845 and was glad they I had my coat on, as I will still traumatized by the night spent in the meat locker. While SSG Johnson was on leave we had to rearrange our schedule to cover the office so I hadn't been to Sunday service in around a month, so it was good to get back. When I got to the chapel, of course there was no power there either, which means no lights and no heat.

I should back up a minute and describe the chapel. Many of the buildings that we are "borrowing" from the Iraqis here on Anaconda are hardstand buildings that were already here. The original design usually has 3 wings, with an outdoor atrium in between each wing. Imagine a capital E on its side. We are always short on space, so many of the buildings have had the atriums converted into rooms to allow for more offices. If there is one word you could use to describe soldiers in Iraq, it would be industrious. A tic tac, a toothbrush, and some bailing wire and you have yourself an office. Or a bomb, depending on the joe that is in charge.

Our Squadron chapel is in one of these converted atriums, so it is essentially a plywood room. There are other chapels on the base that are actual buildings, but we inherited this one, and we are the Cav, so we don't like to have nice things anyway. The accommodations could best be described as Spartan, really just a few chairs and a pulpit. Normally the lyrics to the worship are shown on a laptop as the projector that we have is famous for shutting down in the middle of a song and then taking 10 minutes to warm back up.

We normally keep it pretty basic, but add in the lack of heat, lights, and words, this past Sunday was especially bare bones. The door was left propped upon, so in addition to no heat we had a nice breeze as well. At this point I was glad that I had endured the wrath of the mighty S1 and put on my fleece, as I would have been freezing without it.

The message for the day was from Haggai. From chapter 1:

Then the word of the LORD came through the prophet Haggai: 4 "Is it a time for you yourselves to be living in your paneled houses, while this house remains a ruin?"
5 Now this is what the LORD Almighty says: "Give careful thought to your ways. 6 You have planted much, but have harvested little. You eat, but never have enough. You drink, but never have your fill. You put on clothes, but are not warm. You earn wages, only to put them in a purse with holes in it."

The Chaplain discussed how the temple had been destroyed, and rather than rebuilding it, the people had instead worried about rebuilding their homes first. Wrong answer, said God through Haggai. The people were so busy about taking care of themselves, they had neglected the one who could provide for all their needs. I know this has been true in my life multiple times. Once I graduate from college, then I'll be happy. Or buy a new car or house. Or get married. Or have a kid. Or insert whatever here. But those things come and go, and guess what? The car gets a dent and looses that new car smell. The house isn't quite big enough for your family. Marriage and parenthood are rewarding but an awful lot of work. Same with the new job and the new salary.

Apart from God, these things are for the most part meaningless. In and of themselves, there is nothing wrong with having a nice home or a good career, in fact we are told to work hard and be good at what we do. But sitting in Iraq in a plywood chapel with a handful of soldiers, a guitar, a bible, and no heat or light, I was struck by how fulfilled and how happy I am with my life. I miss my family so much that I can't stand it some days, but my wife and I have the strength of the Lord to get us through it. I know that God has a plan for my life and for a reason that only He knows it currently involves me being half a world away. And that is okay with me. Romans 8:28 says: And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose. Think about that. Are you working on rebuilding your house while God's house is still broken?

Thankfully, this story has a happy ending. After 4 days of no power, they've got everything fixed and we once again have lights, heat, cable, and PS2. And I got a great reminder on God's love for us, and his faithfulness to see us through any situation.

Anger Management is for Sissies

One thing that is different for me this year is that I'm actually watching some NFL football. This is partly due to the fact that I'm stuck here with not much to do and partly due to our fantasy football league. I haven't done fantasy football for quite a few years, but we got a friendly league going here in the office. My team has been doing pretty well, at least up until this week. I was sitting at 6-3, tied for first in the league and looking to make a strong move into sole possession of first place with a victory over Chief Regan's team, who I absolutely dismantled earlier in the season. This was not to be, as he had Carlson Palmer (8000 yards and 20 TDs) and Frank Gore (842 yards rushing and 6 scores) have career days. So I needed Steve Smith to score 6 TDs on Monday night, and of course he didn't pull through. He really let me down with 150+ yards and only 1 TD.

Anyways, perhaps one of the greatest improvements to the NFL viewing experience since the last time I followed the league is the NFL Network. I believe there is some sort of litigation involving the NFL and Cablevision and Time Warner so you may not have it back in good old Nebraska just yet. The most enjoyable part is the NFL Replay, where they broadcast an entire game in 2 hours. They clip out all of the boring stuff between plays like the huddle, kickoffs that result in a touchback, and some 3 and out possessions. AFN broadcasts these replays throughout the week, so we get to catch a few more games than we normally would. Edited to add that they also show the interviewers with the players and coaches about certain plays while they are showing them. So you can hear what the coach was thinking when he called that bonehead play.

I do have a point here, so just hold on a minute and I'll get to it. So, there I was, spending a little quality time on the treadmill last night. Lo and behold, the St Louis vs Seattle game was on the TV directly in front of me. I knew that it ended up on a last minute field goal by Carrie Underwood stalker and Nebraska's own Josh Brown, but I was still excited to see how it went down. Classic game. St. Louis is up 16-14 midway through the 4th quarter. Seattle's Nate Burleson returns a punt 90 yards for the score on an unbelievable return, where he actually stopped dead in his tracks on the sideline, restarted, and nobody touched him. You don't see guys stopping in the NFL very much, usually all that is good for is getting your head separated from your body. This makes it 21-16 for The Seahawks. St. Louis battles back and marches down the field. With 2:30 left, Stephen Jackson scores on a ridiculous run where he breaks a few tackles and then pushes a couple of 'Hawks into the endzone. Huge, huge run to put the Rams up 22-21.

Now, here is where our story starts. After the touchdown run, there is a big pile in the endzone, and Mr. Jackson has his helmet ripped off. Guess who is there to protect him? None other than our favorite bad boy Richie Incognito! For those of you that don't follow Husker football as a religion, Richie was dismissed from the team back in 2004 due to continued "personal problems." He then transferred to Oregon or Oregon St. or some other Pac 10 team, not that it matters which one because he never played a down and left for the NFL. He is now the starting center after some other dude went out with a knee. So, Richie comes roaring in, drills a guy way late, and gets flagged 15 yards for a personal foul. Not a big deal, you say, they still scored. Well, we'll come back to that. So, St. Louis goes for 2 to open up a 3 point lead. And the conversion is good! Oops, wait a minute, there is a flag on the field. Holding, #68, on the offense, repeat the play. Nicely done Ritchie. The second try is then no good. The 15 yards is then marked off on the kickoff, which means St. Lous is kicking off from their own 20. Seattle takes it out past the 50, they only need about 20 yards to get into field goal range. You know the rest, Josh Brown is the first kicker (I think in history but I could be wrong on this) to beat the same team twice in the same season on a last second FG. I don't think it is too much of a stretch to say that Richie greatly contributed to the Seahawk's win. Nice work Richie on keeping that temper under control. You've matured greatly since your days in the corn.

Leon's Ribeyes - A Gift from God?

I like steak, to put it simply. All kinds of steak. You name it, I probably like it. My favorite steak though is a 20 0z ribeye from Leon's Neighborhood Grocer. You just can't beat it. There was a time in my life when I didn't know much about steak. It was a dark time that pains me to remember it. I would roll into SuperSaver, pick up the cheapest cut they had in the cooler, burn the crap out of it and dump half a bottle of A1 on it. I thought I was eating well. Luckily, one of the side benefits of hanging out with my now wife is that her brother Dan is a certified grill genius. We cooked big ribeyes after the Nicholls State vs NU game and they were fantastic! Definitely one of the highlights of being home.

Here is a picture of Dan and I while I was home on leave.
So, Dan took one look at my operation about 8 years ago and knew that I needed help. Actually I needed a grilling intervention. He took me under his wing and instructed me in the proper technique of:

• Going to your neighborhood grocer instead of the big chain.
• Talking directly to the butcher, and either selecting a fresh cut or having him cut one for you if there isn't one to your liking. Again, if you are at SuperSaver there is no way the 15 year old at the meat counter knows anything about meat so asking for a fresh one to be cut is probably only getting you a blank stare.
• The bigger the better - if you are going to invest a couple of hours in the experience why get yourself an 8 oz sirloin? For a normal event, you are okay with a 16oz. For a special event like a Husker game, you should really be in the 20-24 oz range, with the smaller cut for the non-conference/KU/Baylor's of the world and the bigger cut for the OU/Texas/Bowl Game/etc. I remember a graduation party (I think it was my undergrad from UNL but they all kind of blend together) where we pushed up close to 32 ounces. Anything less is un-American.
• Know your cuts. The ribeye is of course the king of steaks, but every once in a while you want to mix it up with a T Bone or a Strip to keep the defense honest
• Dan is from the spice rub school of thought as opposed to the marinade, so that is how we roll. Only one choice here, seasoning from Misty's in Lincoln (which you can buy online Here, do yourself a favor and pick some of this up if you haven't already). The standard or old blue is the best for steak, I like the BBQ for chicken. The thought process here is that you are better off with the freshest cut of meat as opposed to a new day old cut that sits overnight in a marinade. Controversial, I know, but like I said, that is how we roll.
• Charcoal is preferred, but I don't own a charcoal grill so most of the time I bow to the convenience of natural gas. Plus that is what Hank Hill likes. Preferably you should use a Weber grill. It just tastes better that way.
• Take your time. We are in no hurry. Get some chips and salsa to munch on so you don't rush. I like Santatias (do yourself another favor and get these as well if you can find them, sometimes in the ethnic aisle) and Pace medium salsa, sometimes a little queso dip to spice it up a little bit.
• You must, I repeat, must, drink some sort of malt beverage while grilling. It is scientifically proven that if you don't, you will burn your steak. I'm not kidding, I have years and years of grilling data to back this up, every time I have made the choice not to pop a Blue and Chrome once that meat hits the grill, things have turned out badly. Don't take the chance, pick up a 6 pack and avoid tempting fate. Don't overdo it though, you've made an investment in dinner and the last thing you need is to get all goofed up and pass out on the deck.
• You want a medium heat to cook on. Indirect heat is the best. With a 2 inch thick steak you can't just throw it on the bottom rack on high, you will burn the outside and not cook the middle.
• Okay, this part is important, so pay attention. You only want to turn your steak once. The key here is the the aforementioned medium heat and second rack. I like my steak medium rare so I try to cook it about 90% through before I flip it. This took me years of practice but I can now effectively hit the 1 flip almost every time. You will struggle the first few times, but practice makes perfect.
• NO STEAK SAUCE ALLOWED. If you need A1, you messed up somewhere along the way (bought a steak from SuperSaver or overcooked your steak because you didn't have a beer in your hand).
• Sides are up to you. We usually do a spud but it is personal preference. Keep in mind with your cut of meat when planning the sides, with a 20 oz ribeye you don't need a salad, beans, potato, and corn. One side will usually do it. The main goal here is the steak, so don't fill up beforehand. That is a rookie mistake. If you don't clean your plate than your buddies will make fun of you.

Well, it is hard to do justice to all that Dan has taught me, but that is a pretty good synopsis. This is a good cliff notes version, to really learn you have to get into the classroom and do some grilling under the master's watchful eye. Dan loves the Leon's steaks so much, he ended up coaching for their Leon's Midget Football team. They have won the city title 2 years in a row. SSG Johnson is also a coach as well. Brad did a post here abbot this year's team. I believe the team is 2-1 right now. Maybe Dan or Brandee can update everyone with a comment?


Here are some example pictures of the process. These are from our going away party at Camp Shelby. You probably have seen this already but they are always fun to look at. Dan and my father in law (Chief Weber) arranged for the steaks, and Brad's dad hauled them down to Mississippi. We grilled them up our last night in the States. I still think about how good they were. Like I said, Misty's won't steer you wrong.
Steaks on the grill. One of my favorite phrases in the world.

How I Got the Nickname Sack: A Love Story

Some time ago I was asked how I got the nickname Sack. Well, I think it is about time to tell the story. You may want to grab a Coke and a bag of popcorn, this may take some time. I need to give you a little bit of back story first and I'm sure there will be a few side trips along the way.

So, there I was, a young freshman at the University of Nebraska. In high school I worked at the Don and Millie's in Omaha. Upon moving to Lincoln for school, I was able to transfer to the D&M in Edgewood. At the time, I was kind of a punk and thought I knew everything. Plus the Omaha store I worked at was the busiest in town so I did actually know everything. Brian was the resident cool guy so we had a few run ins at the beginning as he was stuck in his small town ways and I was simply trying to hook him up with some better process flow. Luckily, we moved past our differences quickly after uniting over a few Blue and Chromes. I think that night that sealed our friendship was an after hours party at the apartment I shared with my sister Mindy. Why my sister let me move in with her I still don't know, but it was pretty cool not having to live in the dorms. This particular night, we didn't have any firewood for our fireplace. So, Brian and I went out on a recon mission and "borrowed" some from our neighbors (kids don't try this at home). After running through that, we had an old rocking chair that was in poor repair. We decided to smash that up and use it as firewood. Good stuff there. The rest, as they say, is history. After that time Brian and I were the best of friends.

Now, I'm a little hazy on the actual timeline, but I think we need to fast forward about 6 months. When I first started at Don and Millie's, one of my first shifts I believe, I met the most beautiful girl in the world. At this time I decided that she would be mine, oh yes, she would be mine. By winter time, there was a whole group of us that were hanging out together. We would all (me, B, Criztoval Gunitoa Sanchez, T/D-Huh, Beautiful Girl, and any others that were around) close on Friday nights and then go party. We would fill up a 320z drink cup with frozen strawberry margarita to go and be on our way. Tip of the day: if you own a business that sells alcohol don't ever leave a 19 year old in charge, no matter how mature they may seem. Seriously, don't do it. Often times we went to the beautiful girl's house because she had 3 roommates and people old enough to buy us beer. But, the key is we usually all hung out together. I had to open Saturday morning so I usually got the worst end of the deal, we would stay out until all hours of the night and then I had to be up at 7:00. Everyone else got to sleep in and then laugh at me when they came in somewhat well rested later in the day and could see that I looked like I had slept in a dumpster and then ran 6 miles to work. Jerks.

Now, the group slowly started to disintegrate on Friday nights when B broke up with his high school girlfriend. I may have been partly responsible due to the time that I was driving to work and I saw her and B driving in her car. I honked and waved and got no repsonse. I was a little bit miffed, so when I saw B later that night, I was all like, whats up with the no wave. And he was all like what are you talking about. And I said I saw you and your girl driving on 10th street. He said, I wasn't on 10th street. Uh oh. So of course when he confronted her later I ended up being the bad guy, like it was my fault for being nice. Things were never the same after that. Which worked out good for me because I didn't like her anyway. She was one of B's 16 exs at the hospital the night I stabbed him, I'm sure to this day she is convinced that I did it on purpose. Which I did so she would be right. Hey, I won right? Okay, back to the story. So Brian and T-bone started seeing each other that winter/spring. There was then pressure to hang out at Ts place because it was right across the street from ol' D and M. A lot of nights I had to choose between my plan to continue to woo the beautiful girl and hanging out with B. Some nights we all hung together, some nights we split up. This particular night, the night I was glossed the Sack, was one of the nights we went our seperate ways.

On the night in question, we were doing the usual, playing presidents and assholes, drinking cheap beer, making fun of people from Wyoming, and talking about the freakin' National Champion Husker football team (we won 2 national titles my first 2 years at UNL by the way, coincidence, I think not). The beautiful girl was hungry, and wanted to make the requisite trip to Amigos for a midnight soft taco. I don't remember if I was hungry or not because there was nothing that was going to stop me from driving her there and buying her tacos, in the hopes that she would fall madly in love with me and I could move out of the dreaded friends zone. I think there were others in the car but can't remember who else was there. When we returned from our little trip to our horror Lincoln's finest were at the house handing out MIPs. Well, maybe not MIPs but that sounds better than telling everyone to go home. We of course cruised around for a while until the 5-0 had done their business. So by the time we got back, we had been gone about 2 hours.

Now we get back to the house, and get the run down of what we missed. We heard about the usual, somebody puked, somebody else got in a fight, somebody fell down the stairs, etc, etc. The one thing that was odd was that they kept getting prank phone calls from someone. They went along the lines of, "I want the Sack", "Gimme the Sack", "Where's the Sack?" You get the picture. Nobody had any idea who it was or why they were calling, other than the fact that the person was incredibly inebriated. Keep in mind this was before every infant was issued a cell phone at the hospital along with their shots and birth certificate and I don't remember there being caller ID but I could be wrong on that. I'm a little fuzzy on the actual turn of events, but I think eventually I answered the phone and realized that it was B and that for some reason I was the Sack. This is probably a little bit anti-climatic, but to this day I really don't know where he came up with it. I don't think he does either. I asked a few times and he could never give me an answer. But, the name stuck, and to my college buddies and Lincoln friends I will forever be known as the Sack. So there you have it, in 1500 words or less. You probably feel cheated having read all the way down here for me just to say I don't know but it is my blog so I'll do what I want. Plus I'm guessing most of you just skipped down the end anyway.

SSG Johnson is Mean, but SGT Hanseling Saves the Day

Okay, I left out an important part of the pool party story, and would be remiss if I didn't share it. We (the S1 guys) were hanging out in the deep end of the pool, just relaxing and enjoying the cool water. On a side note, they shut down the high dives since I guess too many people were getting hurt (black eyes and separated shoulders). I had just jumped back into the pool and then put my sunglasses on. SSG Johnson thought that I had jumped in with them on, and wondered if that hurt my face. We had a good laugh like usual at his expense, so he got angry. He then said he was going to kill me in my sleep with his bare hands if I didn't get back out of the pool and dive in with my Army issue Oakley's on. Being afraid for my life, and not wanting to disobey a direct order from a senior NCO, I got out and dove in. I was primarily worried about hurting myself, and was so shaken by the threat on my life that I wasn't thinking correctly. So I dove in, and sure enough, when I surfaced, the shades were no longer on my face. The bad thing about it was that the deep end is like 14 feet deep, and there is a current, so they quickly floated out and down towards the center of the pool. The Hammer would not be deterred, and immediately dove down to the middle, 14 feet deep, and 14 feet out, and rescued my sunglasses. I owe a big debt of gratitude to SGT Hanseling for saving me from paying the Army for my glass. Thanks buddy! SSG Johnson never did apologize for forcing me to do it, but that is just how he rolls.

Deal or No Deal and British Open Round 3

I am surprised they even played day 3 at the British Open today. From reading the stories online, they could have just given the Claret Jug to Tiger after yesterday's round. I was excited to see the final pairing today of Els and Tiger and looked forward to watching them play together. They have been saying all week that the people playing earlier in the day had an advantage scoring, and it looks to be that way so far. Woods and Ernie are walking off 17 as we speak, and they have both struggled today. Tiger is -2 and Ernie is -1. It looks like they are going to have some competition tomorrow, as Sergrio shot a 65 to put him to -12, even though he was wearing an outfit that looked like it came out of Saturday Night Fever. I'm colorblind so I'm not always the best judge of style and high fashion, but if you saw the highlights you know what I'm talking about. ****Update - Tiger bogeys 17 to drop to 12 under, Dimarco and Sergio are in at 12 under. We need a birdie on 18 Ernie!****

So, I was flipping through our 10 channels of cable last night before going to bed. Actually it is more like 8 because even though we only have 10 channels we have a TV guide channel (huh?, like you can't just flip through the other 9 channels in 30 seconds and see what is on) and an Army news channel. Who out there has the seen the show Deal or No Deal? For those of you that haven't, the premise is that you start with like 20 suitcases, and each contains between a .01 and a cool million dollars. You have one suitcase in front of you, which contains the amount you will win at the end of the game. You get to pick a suitcase each round to eliminate. Once eliminated, the pit boss in the back makes you an offer to cash out. So, what you want to have happen is that you eliminate all of the low dollar suitcases so the odds on you having a high dollar suitcase go up, causing your offer to go up. Inexplicably, the show is hosted by Howie Mandel (huh?), sporting a Dr. Evil looks with shaved head and what I believe the young hipsters call a "soul patch." On a side note, is there a rule book somewhere that says once your Hollywood comic career is all but over you must do a game show? There isn't anybody else out there besides Howie that is looking for work? I'm getting way off track here but I looked up Howie on IMDB and he has a filmography back to 1981. Did you know that he was the voice of Gizmo in Gremlins? I sure didn't. And who remembers that both he and Ben Stiller had talk shows in the 90s? I wonder if there is a website out there with the worst talk shows of all time, if so I can bet you that one of the two made it. Sounds like a project for me to start if it doesn't exist already. ***Update, Ernie almost chipped if for eagle on 18, ended up with a birdie, as did Tiger. Tiger is your leader heading into Day 4 at -13. I think they do the pairings alphabetically so it will be Woods/Dimarco and Els/Garcia. Should be a great day of golf.****

Okay, so back to the show. When I turn it on, gal has 5 suitcases left, 1, 50k, 300k, 500k, and a million. Nice! Her current offer is 299k. Nice again! So, she can walk away with the 299 or, say no deal and eliminate one more suitcase. Now, here is what was interesting, her support group (mom/dad/friend or maybe sister) is egging her on, NO Deal, lets keep rolling. You have 3 big numbers out there, don't quit now. But, her husband/finance/boyfriend, we'll call him Bob, who for some reason is holding a little puppy (huh?) is saying take the money, please. You can almost see the greed in gals eyes, we'll call her Sue, as she says NO DEAL!, the crowd goes wild, fists are pumped, etc, etc. Now, she had her suitcases pre-picked, and her list is taking care of her up to this point. So, she quickly rattles off #12. She is hoping that is the one with a single dollar in it. This is not to be. The model opens it up and wham, the 1,000,000 is shown. Ouch, worst possible outcome she could hope for. The greatest moment of the whole show was seeing the look on Bob's face when the suitcase was opened. It seriously looked like somebody punched him right in the stomach, he was in actual physical pain. Howie looks shocked, Sue looks sick, and the peanut gallery has their look on their face that says maybe we should have told you to take the money and run.

Oh, but we are not done yet, not even close. So, the new offer comes up, 144k. Not bad but not great. Apparently earlier in the show Bob has said if they walked out of there with 150 he would be thrilled. Howie makes it a point to walk over and ask him whether 144 was enough or if she needed to come up with the 6 grand. He basically tells Howie to screw himself he just wants the money. So, we run through the exact same scenario again. Her support group says No Deal, 2 big numbers out there (300k and 500k), don't stop now. The crowd is saying no deal, they know what is coming. Bob looks ready to hang himself with his shoelaces, pleading for her to take the money. Sue plays to the crowd, and goes NO Deal again. She even goes so far as to ask Howie if she can open the next suitcase, like that can change her luck at this point. WHAM! 500k. Howie looks shocked, Sue looks sick, and the peanut gallery has the same dumb look on their face, I can't believe that wasn't the suitcase with the dollar. Bob is almost catatonic at this point, he looks ready to go into a coma to ease his pain.

Time for round 3, the new offer is 70k, the 1, 50k, and 300k are still in play. At this point you know what is going to happen. It is like when you are at the blackjack table, you've built up a few chips, and your luck runs cold. Usually this happens right after they switch dealers on you and bring in the cooler or the closer, whichever term you prefer. Instead of walking away with your chips, you double up your bet, lose a few more hands, and then in a desperate plea to the gambling gods to even your luck, push your whole stack in for one hand of glory. You know what I'm talking about, and it always ends the same, a 16 for you and a face card for the dealer. You don't even really have to flip the cards over, you already know it is time to hit the buffet. Sue looks to her family, who actually tell her to keep the ball rolling. You have the 300k in front of you (yeah right), don't take the deal. She is pretty much committed at this point. I wish I could better explain to you the look on Bob's face, it was absolutely priceless. I am starting to worry for their relationship, if they aren't yet married I think at this point the engagement could be in trouble. If they are married they will have to hope the puppy keeps them together. Sue actually makes a comment that she is the kind of contestant that she hates when she watches at home. You think? So of course, she makes a dramatic gesture of NO Deal, you already know that the 300k was in the next suitcase, Howie looks shocked, Sue looks sick, and mom and dad are seriously rethinking why they agreed to come on the show.

Round 4. 1.00 and 50k left, the offer is 25k. Bob has shoved a pencil into his eye so he won't have to watch anymore and the puppy peed on Howie's shoe. Sue is running down her options. There are really only 2, if she takes the deal, it is an absolute certainty that she has the 50k in front of her, if she doesn't take the deal, she has the 1 in front of her. We all know that she isn't coming out of this with the 50k, no way. The peanut gallery finally changes their tune, she needs to take home something, so might as well be 25k. Bob has given up caring at this point, his new Silverado has disappeared in the matter of 5 minutes and he has lost all respect for his money grubbing wife. Sue reluctantly agrees to the Deal, although I was screaming at the tv for her to say no deal and come out with a buck. She takes the 25k ,and predictably she would have had the 50k had she said no deal. I haven't seen anyone more dejected since Milton in office space didn't get a piece of cake at the last birthday party. Good tv. Staying on the golf theme, it reminded me a little bit of that collapse by that French guy Van de Velde in the '99 British Open (who else can't believe that was 7 years ago). He only needs a double bogey on 18 to win, and somehow manages to drive it into the rough, shank a 2 iron, hit a grandstand, etc. And who can forget him taking off a shoe and sock and thinking about hitting the ball out of the water hazard. That is why sports are on tv my friends.

Some People are Dumb

Some days can be slow around here. I often fill my down time by trying to better myself with hours of surfing the web. I came across this story and was so blown away by it that I had to share it. So, some dude (23 yrds old and 6'1") attempts to rob a grocery store, with a gun nonetheless. He is thwarted during the robbery attempt. You are probably asking yourself what is so unusual about that? Was he subdued by a pistol packing off duty police officer? By a local member of the hockey team? By a street hooligan with a heart of gold? By a kick boxer in training? Not so fast my friend, his robbery attempt is foiled by a 5'4" 66 year old man. The weapon of choice? A can of applesauce. Not only does he stop the robbery, but he pounds this guy into unconsciousness. In addition to getting pummelled by Mr. Magoo he also shoots himself in the head. I read this story about 10 times and just can't get over it. How does this happen? How does any self respecting criminal let a man half his size and 3 times his age get the drop on him? Can you even imagine what this guys buddies are going to say to him next time they see him? That I think would be the worst penalty, the total loss of your manhood among your felon buddies. Yeah, the pending charges of attempted murder and attempted robbery would be bad enough, but admitting that you got your butt kicked by somebody's pint sized Grandpa would really ruin your day. Somewhere there has to be a video of this, and I think I would pay money to see it.

I have another good website that can be used to whittle the time away. Bill Simmons is a sports writer for ESPN, and upon the advice of the Hammer I started checking his column out. It is downright hilarious. You can find it here: http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/simmons/index. I think my favorite thing about his writing is that he blends in pop culture, and he is just a few years older than me so there are a lot of great references.

One benefit to being in Iraq surfaced this week. We are on the "other side of the pond" so we can watch the British Open live and not on tape delay. Ernie Els aka the Big Easy is off to a good start at -3. ***UPDATE: while I'm writing he just birdied 16 to go to -4*** However ol' Lefty is leading right now. I'll definitely be rooting against him like always. John Daly looks to have sobered up and left the casino long enough to be sitting at -1 under right now. I don't know what it is about that guy, but he loves the British Open and always brings his A game. ***UPDATE: Els just duck hooked his drive into the rough but looks to have recovered nicely and may be on the green in two.***