Either way there's gonna be blood on the floor when you tell her that you don't dig girls anymore

Victory is mine!

to continue with today's theme of stupidity.

one of my daily readings is the 10 spot on sportsillustrated.com. Last week the writer asked why a batter who fouls a pitch straight back is said to be "right on it" but the same is not said when somebody pops a pitch straight up.

Amazingly, this response actually made it from somebody's head, to their keyboard, to the 10-spot in a subsequent installment:

My mail ran about 50/50 on item No. 10 in Tuesday's edition, in which I questioned why broadcasters always say a batter "was right on that pitch" when he fouls one straight back but never say the same for a pop-up directly over the plate. Half lauded my insight while the rest sniffed that clearly I've never played baseball. Brad of Santa Barbara, Calif., offered what seems to be the most knowledgeable response: "Being a former college baseball player affords me the expertise in this matter. When a hitter fouls a ball straight back it is because he swung and hit the top of the baseball but not squarely enough to exactly reverse the rotation. Hitting the top of the baseball creates the backspin required for a ball to carry out of the park, which is why you hear so many Little League coaches yell, 'Swing down and through.' So in this instance the hitter really did miss the pitch just barely. But in the instance of the pop-up, the hitter swung and hit underneath the baseball, creating the opposite desired rotation and inducing a pop-up or lazy fly ball.

i was baffled. just speechless. it actually caused me to have trouble sleeping that night. so the next day i e-mailed the writer. here's an abreviated summary:

That guy's response upset me greatly. there's no bloody way hitting the top of the baseball will give it an upward trajectory.

The actual e-mail was a few sentences longer and didn't really contain much of my abbreviated summary except that i actually used the phrase "no bloody way" in describing the physics behind what the guy contended. then there was this gem in today's 10 spot:

Furthermore, Thursday's mailbag was full of letters saying that the explanation offered by 10 Spot reader Brad of Santa Barbara, Calif., on how a ball is fouled back to the screen had more holes than Mario Mendoza's swing. Many of the responses cited physics, geometry, calculus and other subjects that I specifically have tried to avoid by becoming a sportswriter, so this will be the final word on the topic.

(an aside for the uninitiated: Mario Mendoza)

N-A-T-E and me, the Warren to the G

I had to get my oil changed Saturday and now laugh every time i'm driving down the road. Like most places, the oil change place i use puts a little sticker on the inside of your windshield reminding you when your next change is due and what kind of oil they used.

for example, when i went saturday my mile-o-meter read 72,401. so, traditionally, i would leave with a sticker saying "next change mileage: 75, 401" because of the common practice of getting one's oil changed every 3,000 miles. however,when i boughts my car they told me i only needed to get it changed every 5,000 miles.

so i was next in line and the guy working there took the sticker off my windshield. I says, "On the new sticker, can you make it for 5,000 miles?"

sure, he says.

so after getting into the bay the same guy comes up and asks for my mileage.

72,401, i say.

and you want it for 5,000 miles? he asks.

please, i say.

so he walks and grabs a sticker, pulls out a trusty sharpie brand permanent felt-tipped marker and commences scribbling. then he comes back and adheses it to my windshield.

I look at the sticker.

"next change mileage: 5,000"

because if there was one thing Jesus cared about, it was semantics.

Are one-armed people ambidextrious?

****

In one week and twenty minutes, i will be leaving work and heading to new orleans to catch a flight to chicago.

i'll be spending the weekend with my band of degenerates in and around Wrigley field watching baseball and mingling with the people. i'm very much looking forward to it.

i'm sure there will be stories aplenty to tell. but much like my trip to vegas earlier this year, i shall be far to lazy to tell them.

sit right back and you'll hear a tale, a tale of a fateful trip

Y'all need to check this out, particularly if you aren't familiar with the Gulf Coast of Louisiana and don't truly know why people have been screaming "coastal restoration" for years.

Matt took a helicopter ride over Terrebonne Parish and created an audio slideshow, showing Terrebonne Parish at 500 feet. if nothing else, you'll see why people are trying to conserve every bit of land they can. as matt puts it in the slideshow, "it's not that hard to get underwater when there's all that water around."

If you aren't a native , some terms you may hear:

• "eeldahzhan charles" -- Isle de Jean Charles -- a small island community almost literally on the Gulf of Mexico.
• "poinuhshan" -- Pointe-aux-Chenes -- to get to Isle de Jean Charles, you have to take Island Road (you can salt water fish off one shoulder and fresh water fish off the other) from the community of Pointe-aux-Chenes
• "downthahbayah" -- down the bayou -- there are no directions in Terrebonne Parish. Down the bayou is pretty much south. in other words, it's whatever direction one must travel to get to Pointe-aux-Chenes, Dulac or any other down the bayou place like Grand Caillou or Little Caillou (much like bayou, the ou is Caillou can be pronounced like "you," but it's an "ah" sound for lots of natives or those who have been there long enough).
• "upthahbayah" -- up the bayou -- the opposite of down the bayou. if you want to go from Dularge to Schriever or Gray, you have to head up the bayou.
• "bayahside" -- bayou side -- this isn't actually in the slideshow, but i thought i'd give a bonus entry. much like compass directions, there really isn't a right or left, either. If you're giving someone directions and the place is on the same side of the road as the neighboring bayou, you specify that it's on the bayou side. if you give no such instructions, it is assumed that the destination is on the opposite side of the road.

and as an added bonus, if you close your eyes and listen to matt talk, you can easily picture yourself at an insurance convention during a captivating Powerpoint presentation.

just kidding.

or am i???

everybody woke, tellin the same joke, singing the same chorus to a song that hasn't even been wrote [sic]

Hey everybody. I'm sure as kids you all at one point played "opposite day." you know, you declare opposite day then tell your brother how much you like him and that he doesn't eat his own boogers.

Well, instead of today being "Opposite Day," i think we're going to make it "Obvious Day."

The sun rises in the east and sets in the west.

Today is Thursday.

Water freezes at 32 degrees F (no, i can't spell it).

My eyes are brown.

I'm using a keyboard to type this.

Baton Rouge is the capital of Louisiana.

*****

I know it's not sports friday (which is on extended hiatus until there is something for me to talk about), but i thought i'd share a quick thought.

The NCAA has a rule this year that allows a player who has graduated to transfer another school without losing a year of eligibility. there are technicalities, but basically the rule used to be that unless you transferred from 1-A to a lower classification, you had to sit out a year. i think this new rule is the most stunning display of common sense i've seen come from the NCAA.

*****

Click this link, it's not what you think it is.

i b'lieve 'e said 'e adda go pee

well, i have once again proven that setting goals does nothing but doom you to failure. Last week, i made my goal to lose a tenth of a pound. and look at me, i've ballooned by three tenths of a pound.

This is the second time i've made the mistake of setting a goal of losing weight. both times i ended up gaining weight, while weeks where i make my goal not to gain too much weight end up with significant losses. so it's back to setting the bar as low as possible.

Current weight: 190.9
Goal for next week: no more than 193

***

I discovered last night that, as suspected, my new neighbor might be a little loony.

apparently she thinks i'm the person she's been getting to mow her yard (she even pointed to her car to remind me which house was hers). i assured her that she had the wrong person. Then she introduced herself to me and informed me she was my neighbor. i smiled and let her know that we had met before.

she then offered to give me a number for a person to cut down a tree in my backyard. she didn't say it, but she thinks it's going to fall and land on her house. and it probably will. but it sort of aggravated me that i had to stop what i was doing to let her know that i don't cut her grass then have her tell me it would be a good idea to have a tree removed, so i doubt i'll take her up on the offer for the number.

I'll just wait for a good storm to take care of it.

Grew a mustache and a mullet, got a job at Chick-Fil-A

UPDATE: I'm stupid. the first blog mentioned below, that girl emily, is being outed as a marketing hoax. can't believe i fell for it.

***

You may recall that i encouraged you to check out a couple of blogs in one of my recent entries. That Girl Emily has become quite entertaining as she continues to torment her cheating husband.

But i mostly want to talk about the one written by the woman science professor. since i've been reading it, i've been trying to be more perceptive to gender issues (although i plan to continue my role as all-out chauvanist -- even if i can't spell it). thought i'd share a couple of recent observations.

I was listening to a sports radio show and a bunch of different people were giving updates on whatever game was happening in whatever city they were in. it struck me as odd that the host introduced the people like this:

"Let's go to Bob in Detroit...thanks, Bob. Now let's head to Dan in Chicago...thanks, Dan. Let's go to the lovely Karen in Seattle."

why does Karen have to be lovely (which is probably a lie to begin with)? Bob and Dan weren't handsome. i wonder if that bugged Karen as much as it bugged me.

The second thing happened last night.

courtney's phone has been on the skids and her contract was up so she decided to go for an upgrade. we went to Cingular and had a very polite, helpful young lady (probably very early 20s)helping us. Courtney decided to get one of those handheld do-everything doo-hickeys. She couldn't decide between a Cingular PDA or a Blackberry and asked the salesperson which she recommended.

"I'd go with the pda," she said. "Usually businessmen who have lots of e-mail get the Blackberry."

As some of you know, Courtney had her master's degree in accounting in less time than it took me to get a bachelor's degree and has spent the subsequent time on vacation, though gainfully employed as an auditor with a large accounting firm. yet, for some reason, the sales person assumed that courtney didn't fit the mold of the type of person who she thought would need a blackberry.

anyway, no particular reason for sharing that. just hadn't updated this in a while and didn't have much else to talk about.

Cause all the geeks that i meet they all look cooler than me

UPDATE: i forgot to link this during my wasp sting story.

*****

so i did the 'Whenever Weigh-in" this morning. 190.6 -- down 1.1 lbs since last week. it's also been a month since i started my half-ass weight-loss quest. i've lost 3.8 pounds (more than that if you count the first week where i actually gained weight).

I'm a little worried because I think i heard somewhere that the most noticeable weight loss comes early, and i don't think i'll be happy if i level off at less than a pound a week. Maybe it's time to buckle down and set loftier goals.

Weight: 190.6
Goal for next week: 190.5

carpe diem

*****

the swelling and itching has on my wasp-stung finger has reduced noticeably today. courtney comes home tomorrow, so i'll need to "tidy up the house a bit" when i get home tonight.

i guess that's about it.

Great expectations, realistic results

i'm not sure what the hell convinced me that i would be patient enough to chronicle a two-part epic on the drama surrounding my left hand. i'm pretty stupid most of the time. so here's the cliff's notes version:

I was paranoid that a suspicious clump of dirt above my front door was a wasps' nest.

i repeatedly sprayed it with Raid.

It wasn't a wasps nest.

However, unbeknownst to me, there was an actual, very active wasps nest about three feet away on my front porch light (i don't have a front porch, but i don't know how else to describe the location of the light) and directly above my skullbone.

I was walking outside Monday and got stung by a wasp on my left middle finger. i said "****!" and hopped around, noticed the nest and eradicated it and its 8 or so inhabitants with straight prejudice. now my thumb hurts to bend it because of the saw altercation and my middle finger is puffy and itchy. (I'm glad it wasn't one finger over because it's still easy to take my wedding ring off before i go into a bar).

*****

I witnessed a very bad car wreck yesterday. i was sitting at a light and a guy turned left into an oncoming car going about 50 mph. dudes were f'd up. (i told the police that both cars had a green light with no turn arrow. but i'm feeling a twinge of guilt because it is possible that i was wrong and the truck had an arrow and the car ran a red light. since the guy in the truck is going to get a failure to yield ticket, i hope my memory was correct.)

i was a little surprised at the level of pre-ambulance first aid administered by the responding officers. me and a couple other guys were standing between the cars checking on the drivers (i was "supervising.") the guy who got hit was bloodied and didn't remember where he was going or where he was coming from. the guy who turned was laid across his seat and not moving at all.

so the po-po shows up and tells the guy in the car not to move and the ambulance was on its way. he looks at us "anybody else hurt?" we sort of motion to the fairly conspicuous truck halfway in a ditch with a guy laying across the seat not moving.

"he still alive?" po-po asks.
"he was a few minutes ago."

Po-po walks up to the truck. "You still with us?"

mumble.

"Do you have a preference for what tow-truck company we use?" sen-si-tive.

mumble.

"All right, acadian (ambulance) is on its way."

*****

I have a couple of reading recommendations that i think you should check out (which i guess is why they're recommendations).

The Science Professor is a blog by a science professor at a major research university writing about how big of a pain in the butt it is to be a woman science professor at a major research university. I stumbled across it and was impressed with the way she handles being established in her field despite remaining an outsider in a male-dominated profession.

My other recommendation has some adult content. That Girl Emily started off as generic blog, but quickly transformed after the author found out her husband is sleeping with her best friend. now she's writing about the different revenge techniques she's employing (including using their joint bank account to buy a billboard and giving away his extensive wine collection to construction workers in the neighborhood).

*****

I think i'm going to rename the Wednesday Weigh-in the "whenever weigh-in." i didn't remember to weigh this morning until i was already dressed. maybe i'll get around to it tomorrow.

My left hand is good for when i'm knockin' on wood, although i gotta admit that it hurts

This should have been an opportunity for me to brag about being Mr. Fix-it, but after yesterday i have to talk about what a tough few days it's been for my left hand.

Quite a while back, a storm split one of the pieces of wood on my fence, so i decided sunday it was time to replace it. those of you who have known me for any amount of time are already laughing. But wait, it gets funnier. This wasn't just any piece of the fence, it was the piece with the two-piece handle on it. and attached to that piece of wood was a second, smaller piece with the handle for the other side. (the smaller piece of wood also served as what i would call an "anchor." when you put the wood into the fence, the smaller piece on back sits on a piece of wood running perpendicular to the fence.)

For those who don't know me that well, here's a summary of things i've tried to construct/fix in the last 26 years:

- A mop out of two wire coathangers and a shredded t-shirt
-a hand-crafted ping pong paddle, which didn't progress much past the "hey, i should hand craft a paddle" stage.

this was going to require a pencil, tape measure, phillips head screw driver, a ratchet (with two different sized thingies), and a drill. i was giddy.

Long story less long: about an hour and half later, i had a fully functioning piece of wood for a fence with handle installed. But when i went to install it into the fence, i was horrified to see that i had somehow managed to put the thingy that latches into the thingy about an eighth of an inch too high. Just enough to keep it from closing. i was horrified.

This meant that i was going to have to take the whole thing apart and start over. Unless...unless, i just trimmed a bit off the bottom of the rear board where it would sit thismuch lower. brilliant!

[Had i written this before the events of yesterday you will soon hear about, i would be bragging about how i had fixed my fence and it only required one band-aid.]

I took out my handsaw and attempted to trim the bottom of the board. but pretty much all i did was a bunch of scraping. But then i remembered i had a skill saw and thought, "Screw this, I'm using a skill saw." So i take out my 2.5 HP laser-guided skill saw with 18-tooth carbide blade. As soon as i took it out of its carrying case, i realized there was no way in f'ing hell i was putting the plug to that thing anywhere near an outlet. I may have been born yesterday, but it wasn't at night.

In fact, i couldn't even figure out how to put it back into the carrying case, so i just put it back in the box, where it shall remain for all eternity.

so i go back to the regular hand saw and eventually make some progress. after a few minute of sawing, i decide to see if it would be easier if i saw sideway to cut the excess off and create less friction for the saw. needless to saw, the saw scraped the wood then hopped its way over to my left thumb. it stung a little, and bled more than i expected it to. but i washed it off, put a bandaid on it and finished the fence.

and that should have been the end of the story. But as i have foreshadowed it wasn't. stick around for the thrilling conclusion. well, the conclusion.

would you say i had a plethora of pinatas?

The Friday Wednesday Weigh-in

Well, against my better judgment, I weighed this morning and was quite startled with the results: 191.7 -- down nearly two pounds from last week. I called bullshnarf and weighed again, twice. The next two weights were actually less than that. So i guess i'm happy that despite my lack of recent exercise i'm still losing weight.

But since i don't trust that scale, i'm setting even less lofty goals in my half-assed weight loss effort (which i promise will one of these days return to having the wednesday weigh-in on a wednesday).

Today's weight: 191.7
Goal for next week: no more than 195

Reader Contest

Well, Courtney is in Seattle now and will be heading to Alaska this afternoon. A couple of thoughts on the reader contest (scroll down to last Thursday if you don't know what i'm talking about). Ryan, before courtney left she threatened to kill me if i even considered any sort of paint job. so your $50, i'm ashamed to say, is safe.

Mom, I know that's you that came up with the frog aquarium. Most people would have said "without gloves," a few people would have said "sans gloves," but only you would have used "senza gloves." so next time you want to take a cheap shot, at least put your name on it. But i certainly appreciate the effort.

You can learn to cope with stress, you can beat the IRS, and the Incredible Frogboy is on the loose again

I was standing at the check-out with my 12 items or less a week or two ago and decided that if you took a survey, express lane cashiers would have a higher rate of job satisfaction than normal lane cashiers.

Each transaction takes less time than the normal lane, so you have more opportunities to experience a sense of completion. Things are less monotonous and you deal with more people, so they day goes by quicker.

that, in turn, got me to thinking about what job has the highest rate of employee satisfaction. After much thought, i decided that it had to be tattoo artists.

(Warning: the following explanation is likely to include sweeping generalizations and a stereotype or two.)

I can't imagine there are too many people who are tattoo artists that would rather be doing something else. Drawing on other people, it seems, is something one gets into because that is what one intends to do. It's not like waiting tables at a restaurant "until your book gets published," or working at the mall "because your parents made you get a summer job" or exotic dancing "because i needed to put myself through law school."

Granted, i'm not sure a lot of kids are out there saying that they want to be tattoo artists, but after watching Top Gun in 1986 i wanted to be a fighter pilot. So it's not like adults have to live out their childhood dream to be happy with their job. By the time you're close enough to adulthood to make a reasonable guess as to what you'd like to do (and for me, having two feet on the ground was a requisite), i think that's when the career-happiness meter starts.

and this is just a guess, but i bet there are more people out there who aren't tattoo artists who wish they were than there are tattoo artists who wish they weren't.

If you disagree and can think of a profession with a higher satisfaction rate, be sure and post it in the comments.

he should've quit before he had written the address

Light Green Dog

With a title like "light green dog" you are probably expecting this story to be about a light green dog. or maybe a light, green dog.

but no, my friend, this story is about a light green, dog.

I was walking to a nearby restaurant for lunch when i passed a rather impatient motorist. He wanted to turn left at the intersection, but the car in front of him was not moving. So the impatient motorist honked his horn and exclaimed, "Light green, dog!"

In Cold Blood

I'm about two-hunny pages into Truman Capote's In Cold Blood, and it's tough to put down. It reads like a fictional murder mystery novel (which, of course, is redundant since novels, by definition, are fiction).

And i think that's the weird thing for me. every once in a while, it dawns on me that it was actual people killed and not characters in a book. sort of weirds me out, to tell you the truth.

i guess that's it for now.

well, i'm all messed up, that's nothing new

i read one of the funniest quotes ever this morning. It's funny because i'm supposed to be way too old to laugh at stuff like this. From a Sportsillustrated.com story about the declining health of champion racehorse Barbaro:

"Right now, he's happier," Richardson said. "He's got a normal heart rate, normal temperature, he's eating like crazy. He's very hungry. He's making lots of manure. He looks actually pretty happy today. Now we have to see how he responds to what's going on."

I think that's how i'm going to start responding to friendly chatter from people, such as former major league baseball player Chet Lemon.

"hey, seth, how ya doing?"
"Not so good, Chet Lemon, I haven't been making lots of poop."

or, conversely:

"hey, seth, how're things?"
"well, Chet Lemon, judging by the amount the poop i've been making, i'd have to say i'm pretty happy right now."

*****

I'm going to be traveling hither and yon the next two evenings, so i won't be around a scale for the wednesday weigh-in until friday morning. i have done some preliminary weigh-ins the last few days, and i have to tell you, it's not looking good for the home team.

I've been really good about running everyday and have been fairly good at watching what i eat (although last night at 10 i was watching myself eat half a container of crab dip). It appears that i'm going to be that whiney person on the informercials: "I lost 8 tenths of a pound on my last diet, but the weight came back!"

I'm such a loser.

*****

From Wikipedia:

Chester Earl Lemon (born February 12, 1955 in Jackson, Mississippi) is a former center fielder in Major League Baseball. He attended Cerritos Junior College in Norwalk, California, and was drafted in the first round of the 1972 draft (22nd pick) by the Chicago White Sox.

Lemon made his major league debut in 1975 with Chicago, before becoming a full time player the next season. He began his career as a third baseman before quickly switching to center field. In 1977, he set an American League record with 524 total chances and 512 putouts; in all, he recorded 400 or more outfield putouts in five different seasons, which is also an American League record. His first All-Star Game appearance came in 1978.

After the 1981 season, Lemon was traded to the Detroit Tigers for popular outfielder Steve Kemp. Kemp played regularly for Chicago for only two seasons after the trade, while Lemon stayed with the Tigers through 1990. Lemon joined a Tiger team stocked with young talent: Alan Trammell, Lou Whitaker, Jack Morris, Kirk Gibson and Lance Parrish were to form the core of a successful team through the early- to mid-1980s.

Lemon arguably had his best season in 1984, as he hit .287 with 20 home runs and 76 RBI, and collected a .990 fielding percentage while handling 421 total chances. The Tigers won the 1984 World Series, and Lemon's numbers were comparable with teammate and eventual Series MVP Trammell.

In 1988, Lemon hit his 200th career home run off Cleveland's Scott Bailes. In the same game, Darrell Evans hit his 400th career home run. Also that season, Lemon moved from center field to right field to make room for speedy new acquisition Gary Pettis. Lemon also had a unique ability to be hit by a pitch; in the 1980s, he was second only to Don Baylor by getting plunked 108 times. He also had a penchant for diving headfirst into first base.

Lemon retired from baseball after the 1990 season. For his career, he hit 215 home runs, had 884 RBI, 396 doubles, a .273 batting average, and a career fielding percentage of .984. Soon after retiring, he became ill with a serious spleen disease, polycythemia vera. In December of 1990, Lemon successfully underwent surgery at the University of Michigan, and has had two subsequent surgeries, the last of which removed his spleen. He now coaches Chet Lemon's Juice, a successful 18-and-under baseball team in Sanford, Florida. Lemon's son Marcus was selected in the 4th round of the 2006 ML Draft by the Texas Rangers.

Lemon is also the head coach for Eustis High School in Eustis, Fla. His son, who has committed with the University of Texas at Austin, was the team's lead-off hitter in 2006.

"I know what exacerbate means."

well, courtney's out of town.

last night i decided i'd sleep on the couch for the next two weeks so i wouldn't have to make the bed. unfortunately, the couch proved to be too uncomfortable. Now i guess i'll sleep in the bed for the next two weeks, but will wait until the morning she comes home to make it.

I fear my half-assed weight loss attempt will be derailed over the next fortnight. When i got home yesterday i rediscovered that when i'm alone and bored i tend to eat. i managed to go for a run on the treadmill yesterday, but i fear the relative idleness of the upcoming days will surely torpedo any progress i have previously made (which, admittedly, wasn't a whole hell of a lot).

I did watch a couple of movies yesterday: Proof and Capote.

Proof was OK, i liked it better when i was over. During the movie it was all right, but at the end i thought "well, i guess that was pretty good." I'm not telling you not to watch it, but i wouldn't put it too high on your "movies to watch" list.

Capote, on the other hand, was excellent. in most of his other movies i've seen, philip seymour hoffman tends to play rather obtuse characters with booming personalities. I didn't see anyway they were going to be able to stick him in this role as a 5'4" man. But it worked marvelously.

If you've never heard Truman Capote talk, which i hadn't, i highly recommend watching the mini-documentary in the special features before you watch the actual movie. It will give you an idea of how spot-on Hoffman's performance was.

Incidentally, the title of this entry comes from Capote. A death-row prisoners uses the word exacerbate in a sentence, then lists a few synonyms, to which Capote replies, "I know what exacerbate means. there is no word, concept or sentence you can illuminate for me." or something like that.

*****

In other news, a story by Courier Lifestyles Editor Mark Green with accompanying photo by Mika Edwards in making the national rounds. Mika has blossomed into quite the celebrity after being contacted by Good Morning America about the picture.

Things were coming together now they're falling apart

This would normally be sports friday, but i think it's going to end up being more of a gripe fest (although there is one sports-related note i plan on covering).

But first, it's time for the wednesday weigh-in. I did it this morning since July 4 was Tuesday and i was scared to see what the scale said wednesday morning. You'll be pleased to see that setting my goals low paid off.

I started last week at 195, with my target being to weigh no more than 195.3 this time. And, as luck would have it, i ended up actually losing weight, tipping the scales at 193.6.

Since the next weigh-in is less than a week away, I will again aim low.

Current weight: 193.6
Next week's target: no more than 194

*****

An abbreviated Sports Friday
I've been meaning to write about this for a while, but kept forgetting about it until the discussion came up on Mike and Mike this morning on ESPN radio.

The question: Is the plural of RBI RBIs or just RBI?

Fill-in co-host Buster Olney says it's RBI, which is a very popular notion these days (and, as he said, the NY Times style).

His argument: RBI stands for runs batted in, so to add an "s" to RBI pluralize it is redundant.

Mike Greenberg says it's RBIs.

His argument: RBI has become its own word in a way.

My thoughts: I agree with Greenberg, but for different reasons.

My arguments: Things that are inherently plural can be singular. RBI is not so much "runs batted in" as it is a category with which to enumerate runs batted in. Sort of like the word "band" is singular for "multiple people playing instruments together." More than one band is still "bands," despite the idea that the very nature of a single band implies multiple components.

And, furthermore, to take a look at Olney's argument that RBI is by default plural since it is runs batted in. That would make it impossible for someone to have 1 RBI. Since English does not allow you to have one runs batted in or one bands playing a concert or one plates of spaghetti or anything else of that sort.

*****

I hate television news programs. I think the reason I like the Colbert Report so much is that you could take it from Comedy Central and put it on any other channel and have no trouble believing that it's an actual news show.

I guess now would be as good a time as any for a bit of disclosure, just to let you know that i'm willing to talk about this without any unnecessary accusations of professional jealousy.

[Begin bit of disclosure, just to let you know that i'm willing to talk about this without any unnecessary accusations of professional jealousy.]

I covered the police beat at my last job, which means that the majority of my spot-news coverage involved things that would lead to rubber-necking by the general public. I, with my trusty reporter's notebook, and Matt, with his trusty digital camera, were endlessly subjected to questions from people wondering if we were with the local tv station (i don't think i need to describe to you, dear reader, how much different a digital camera looks than a television camera). While that is not really the tv station's fault, there were other issues.

News was always easier to get when the tv station was around, and largely for no other reason than the reporter was a reasonably attractive female. Ah, yes, starting to sound jealous, aren't I? well, here's another story:

One day I got an e-mail from a fellow in New Orleans who was a serial killer enthusiast. A week or two later, I drove to New Orleans East to interview him. I didn't write the story for a couple of weeks. The day it ran in the paper the local news pretty much read it on air, without feeling the need to credit me or the paper.

[End bit of disclosure, just to let you know that i'm willing to talk about this without any unnecessary accusations of professional jealousy.]

So, now you know all the possible professional reasons why i wouldn't like tv news, i'd like to continue my rant from the view of me as a television watcher.

In short, television news believes that I am helpless. TV programs and stations are "on my side" and frequently tout their crack news teams constantly digging up corruption, and they're doing it for me.

Anderson Cooper, (who i only watched because Courtney made me) is the poster child for tv news personalities i can't stand. There was an interview the other night about new orleans and Ray Nagin, and Cooper must have said "keeping him honest" a gazillion times.

(brief side note: i am by no means a Nagin apologist, but a guy on there was ripping him for not just coming out and saying some places won't be rebuilt because people need to know. As i recall, Nagin said that very thing several months ago and got chewed out for it.)

Here's the thing, tv news: i don't want you on my side. I'm OK, i can make my own judgments. Just tell me the news and I'll take it from there. I don't need you beating in my brains with cries of a corrupt system and then shamelessly patting yourselves on the back for sensationalizing everything. There is no boogieman in my closet and if there were, I'd notice it. And if i don't notice it, shame on me.

I think i could handle the poor quality of television reporting if it weren't coupled with the mundane chatter between anchors. Yes, i realize it has a lot to do with timing issues in the show, but it would be nice if they would talk like real people and not like, well, tv people trying to stretch to commercial.

and while they're at it, they can shove that doppler radar up their collective asses.

An acrobat swinging trapezes through circles of flame

Hello everybody.

It's time for another reader contest. Here's the background:

Sunday, courtney leaves for Chicago for a few days of training. Upon her return, she will promptly turn around and head to Alaska for nine or ten more days. Which means I will be all by my lonesome for about two weeks.

Assuredly, my time will be spent reading a book, watching Anchorman or furthering the progress of my XBox college football team, the St. Tammany Calamity.

Or will it? That, reader, is where you come in.

You can take part in a little contest i like to call "I bet you won't..."

In the comment section, leave a domestic task you bet i won't do while she's gone and the amount of money you'll pay me if i pull it off.

now, you could be cheesy and do something like "I bet you $5 you won't have the dishes washed when she gets home", and you of course you can, but what fun would that be?

i want to see things like "I bet you $500 you won't dig a swimming pool while she's gone" or "$50 says you won't replace the kitchen table centerpiece with a papier mache cast of your butt."

just keep in mind that the payment must cover whatever cost i have to incur to pull it off, as well as a reward proportional to the amount of trouble i'll be in when she gets home.

and, above all else, be creative.

My grandpa always said laughter is the best medicine, i guess that's why so many of us died of tuberculosis

If you don't ever do another thing i tell you, check out The Onion this week and next. It's celebrating 10 years online and posting a sort of "best of" collection. be sure and click on the various years to see all the content. they feature a different year each day.

***

two quick Ryan Chatelain plugs:

-If yous in New York this weekend, check him out at 8 p.m. this Friday at Stain Bar in Brooklyn. We're making a concerted (get it? concerted? like a concert? he's a musician. get it? get it?) effort to top his record-breaking crowd of ...drumroll...six people at his last show there. Obviously the bar's marketing efforts leave much to be desired.

--He's also launched a new music Web site, Marked Online Music Magazine. check it out early and often.

and if you have anything you would like me to shamelessly plug, just let me know. the only requirement is that you know me well enough to know how to find me to let me know about whatever it is you want me to let people know. i'm particularly talented when it comes to the craft of using particularly long sentences that ramble on word after word after word but don't really say anything that couldn't have been said better or at least as well as a short sentence like this one: I write long sentences.

***

Happy, happy Joy, joy!

Dispatches from the Northshore is pleased to launch a new reader contest. Check back this afternoon or early tomorrow for specifics.

i think it's the sort of thing that everyone will enjoy. Well, everyone but a certain someone i know... bwah ha ha ha ha ha

all toe shoes and twin

hope all of y'all are off today. i'm not. in fact, i'm swamped. but i thought you'd might like to know:

when courtney and i started dating in college, she had a nick carter poster on her closet door.