a lighter jacket, a holiday, and visions of you on the orange thing

It's March, and that means Spring Training. Shake out the stiff old leg, do some pushups, maybe go toss the bean around with your pal. Soon we'll be playing under the cozy lights of Clarkson Street, laughing and failing and getting into arguments as if any of it really matters.

In order to do my part, I am warming up with a cold 16 oz. Budweiser this Sunday night.

As I swoosh it around in the back of my mouth for a second before swallowing, I can almost feel the comforting crunch of shredded tires beneath my feet. How I love the outdoors. As my friend-for-an-instant Rich wrote in my high school yearbook 21 years ago, "Man this summer's gonna be a blast. You better be around."

I have been sick as hell for the last 9 days but I think I'm pulling out of the tunnel and things are gonna be OK. Whenever I go down with an illness or an injury I remind myself to be thankful the next time I'm chugging along healthily on all 4 rusted-out middle-aged cylinders. I think I'm just about there. So here's some thankitude in advance.

Feeling better always gives me a fleeting impulse to make changes in the way I live, to streamline this or that, to stick to my budget, to exercise, to get more sleep, to take more of an interest in my life and my family's future and to think about steps that can be taken to get things rolling. It never lasts. I am tired and lazy and for the most part happy as can be with the way things are. I wish I had been born more motivated or had more discipline instilled in me or could somehow find a way to change my basic makeup as a human being, but...I think this is it. Deal with me. Love me. And not just for this huge penis.

Small changes I do promise to make:

-Get bike outta basement, get it tuned up (next weekend), begin riding it around. Ride to softball 85% of the time. Ride to work 72% of the time. Avoid cab fares and other problems associated with cabs and cars.

-Play sports. Starting the weekend after next (next weekend is the wife's 'birthday zone' weekend). Decide that 2008 is my last great stand as an athlete and make the best of it.

-Finish my new Trayline post, about Moving Day 1992, and my new Basketball post, a series of lightweight observations about this season's Golden State Warriors. Go back and give them both a once-over before posting to make them funnier. These will both be in the can by Friday unless something goes wrong.

-Wear something green to work tomorrow for St. Patrick's Day, and re-initiate official Genius Point distribution with the arrival of today's contest: The First Annual Verbungle.com Patty Cake Challenge. Your mission: between Monday and Tuesday, grab your phone cam or your digital cam, whatever you got, and take pictures of as many of these as you can. Fools are getting drunk today, drunker than they anticipated, and they are vomiting on the damn streets! Let's get out there and document it! 20 genius points for each vomit patch you can photograph before Wednesday. If you live in a small town where nobody vomits on the streets, take some initiative: go out and vomit yourself.

Also, Deion will be grandfathered 20 points for his bathroomdat answer of The Blue & Gold.

Finally...it's just about Spring, kids, so why not celebrate with a quick trip back to another Spring not too long ago when the world was a simpler place, when we didn't even know how good we had it, when love was in the air and free time was still in your price range.

9 things

I have a lot of thoughts going on right now for the first time in a while, and I guess with the proper time and focus I could turn them into a few coherent posts for your enjoyment. But I got none of that stuff. I got minutes to spare and work to do so y'all are getting one of my little numerical list jobbies.

1. Pete asks for an iPhone re-review, which is interesting because I was just about to do that. Here is the latest news: the iPhone is the greatest damn thing in the history of the universe. I recommend getting the new 16GB model, that shit will make you extremely happy. I stand by all the points from the earlier review -- the internet surfing is slow, you rarely find yourself in a hotspot. I misdial and mistype a lot. There are a hundred annoying things about this device. But...it is still the greatest damn thing in the history of the universe. The fact that it is an iPod too, and that it can play movies and shit, and you can surf the web at reasonable speeds while sitting on your toilet (assuming you have wifi), and that it has so many other cool features, combine to make it the greatest damn thing in the history of the universe. The only legit reasons to wait on buying one are:
-Price = outrageous and insulting.
-AT & T = not so good.
-Soon they will come out with one with the proper cell-surfing protocol, getting rid of this EDGE BS. That said, the EDGE is not as bad as I initially thought. I can play youtube videos without skipping even when I am not in a hotspot.

Just fucking get it already.

2. I have thought about doing this before but realized I don't go out to enough bars anymore to come up with very many entries. That said, here is the first edition of Name That Bathroom:


3. That pic was taken during Chicago Vic's recent visit to NYC. We had a grand old time. I was surprised to discover that the bars seem to still be going strong without me. We're all just temporary in everything we do, I am reminded. Only the buildings survive. Also, bars are full of interesting shit, like overly made-up dogs:


And Vincent-Gallo-lookin' hipsters who are unable to resist being amused by Vic's 4am coaster-flipping prowess:

4. I am missing my pop so much. There have been at least 50 times since January 20th when I want to call him and then remember he's gone. Mostly I just feel sorry for him. He enjoyed life so much, it seems unfair that he can't be here anymore checking out the world and soaking it all in. At the end, as the things he loved kept getting taken away from him (booze, food, Manhattan), he didn't need much to make him happy. Just the TV, the newspaper and enough health to carry on. But I guess that was too much to ask. It also crushes my heart when I point to a picture of him, even one from 50 years ago, and ask my daughter who it is, and she says, "Papa Bob." I feel lucky that they got to know each other but somehow the fact that they were able to form a real relationship makes it all even sadder. I keep thinking back to the last ten years, when a lot of things didn't go his way, and I wish I had been there for him more often. He was the single most important person in my life and I guess he always will be.

5. I got an email from our old pal CLee -- he was a website now and a softball page that puts our site to shame. He sent this picture that made me feel old and nostalgic:


Nothing special, really, just a reminder of how long we've been playing at JJ Walker ballfield and how many people have come and gone. (Isn't that a pre-shearing Dipak on the hill?) Man am I ready for spring and softball and tall boys and the fuzzy upper lip of Hiatus. Looking forward to stuff is the best. Is there any other way to live than doing everything in your power to forget the wreckage of the Past while gathering up the measly crumbs of happiness the Present offers you and looking forward to the majestic morning of Tomorrow? I am open to suggestions.

6. Why can't I get one of my all-time favorite Beatles songs on iTunes?


7. Maybe this comparison is obvious, but Michael Beasley = Derrick Coleman. In every way.

8. Work continues to dawg my ass. Shawshanking this week at the ol' FN. Should be pretty unpleasant. Then going home to work on stuff for the regular job. The future will be better. Right?

9. Prediction for the Yanks this year: 85-77.

Good Times Ahead

The other day when I was posting the whole "five things that determine how bearable your day job is" nonsense I think I shortchanged us all by not assigning point or percentage values to each of those things. I love making little numerical scales for all sorts of bullshit like that.

I do like keeping it simple, however. So for the Job Satisfaction Index, I will not weigh each category differently based on how important they really might be. Instead, each category will be worth 20 percentage points, bringing your maximum job total to 100 points. Once you get this total, say a 73 or whatever, you may then add plus or minus up to ten points for intangibles, those things that really cannot fit into any of the other five categories.

So here it is:
1) Good pay - maximum 20 percentage points
2) Good working environment/co-workers/bosses - maximum 20 percentage points
3) Low stress - maximum 20 percentage points
4) Fulfilling/Stimulating work - maximum 20 percentage points
5) Reasonable Hours/Time off - maximum 20 percentage points

Add those numbers numbers up and then add/subtract up to ten points for anything good or bad about your job that cannot be filed into one of the other categories (such as crsmal's "health risks").

Therefore a perfect job, like say highly-paid cheeto tester, would be like 110. Anything below 65 and you should be looking for something else. Unless you are profoundly unskilled and are lucky to even have a job.

***

Two facts that will make you feel extremely old:
1) Back to the Future came out 22 years ago.
2) Lindsay Lohan turns 47 this June.

***

The bad news in these parts is that my dad went back in the hospital after another low blood sugar episode. The good news is he's now out and he took home 100 clams for finishing second in the NCAA pool at my old job. Well done, pops. I watched the final with him in his hospital room and he let out a couple of woo-hoos when Fla. nailed big threes.One night when I was home from college on a break, let's call it 1990, a friend came over and together we consumed a bottle of vodka in about two and a half hours while sitting in my parents' living room listening to my sister's old records.

With all that booze inside us we decided it was time to go out and see if the world needed a hand with anything. We hit a couple bars, got to the point where if you knew us you would have politely excused yourself and gone home. We were obnoxious, unruly, and certain that we could do no wrong.

We finally left The Bar, bought a couple of Tall Boys to keep us company, and began walking down 3rd Avenue. We came upon a construction site and sauntered up to a rather large crane. The operator's seat was exposed, no locks or anything, so we climbed up and sat there, guzzling our beers and talking in the confident tones of drunk young men. At some point we became convinced that we should take the crane. How goddamn funny would that be? we reasoned. As we began plotting just what we might do with the crane once we figured out how to steal it (how hard could it be?), a concerned citizen came up to us and began yelling at us.

"Get out of there," he said. "I'm gonna call the cops."

I was pretty much ready to do as the guy said, but my friend yelled back, "Fuck you!"

And when you think about it, who the hell did the guy think he was, telling us not to steal a giant crane? Fucking balls on that guy. Mind your own bizznizz, boss.

The guy walked away, threatening again to call the cops, which I'm sure he did. My friend and I sat there for another minute or two, fumbling around halfheartedly for an ignition, before leaving, ON OUR TERMS.

Anyway, the reason I bring this up is that as I walked out of the emergency room the other night, I looked up at the crane that is being used to work on the hospital. This crane is literally like 500,000 miles tall. Literally. The point I'm getting at is that it's a very tall crane, taller even than the one we tried to steal all those years ago. And when I looked at it, its steel claw barely visible in the night sky, it came to me:

Nothing all that good would have happened if we had stolen that crane back in the day.

Imagine getting pulled over on like 57th and 6th, driving a huge stolen crane? You better have some quick excuses lined up, or you're looking at some major community service right there.

Baseball's back, I sorta care. And starting Sunday, softball's back. We all care about that. Thanks to all the fellas who came together and made it happen after a scary moment there.

Details to follow soon.

A request has been made for a GISG (rules below*). So here one is (10 GP's). Kinda easy, but we're just getting started. Also, here is a whodat (10 points). And I am thinking about having T-shirts made up for the three previous geniuses (cW, Joe M., smoker), but I can't think of a good design or slogan. I want it to include the word "verbungle" or "Hans Bungle" and some sort of proclomation of geniusitude. Like, "Verbungle Certified Genius" or some such. 25 points to anyone who can come up with one. It'll go right in the shop.

*Rules, originally printed here .
1. I will post an image, CLEARLY LINKED from this page, and that will be the image of the day.
2. Safesearch is off.
3. The goal is not just to submit a search term which brought up the image in question -- you have to guess the term my dirty little fingers actually typed into the search box, pretty much exactly as I typed it. I reserve the right to grant leeway.
4 The image must appear on the first three results pages for the search in question. I may trim that to one page if nobody gets any answers right.
5. There must be something visible in the image that makes it a logical (but not necessarily obvious) result for that particular search.
6. You can just guess shit if you want, or you can check your guesses on google before submitting them. Guess as often as you like.