Recently, I've been on a fresh fruit kick. I've been eating plenty of oranges, bananas and mango. Today, I got to thinking that if a banana and a mango got together and had a child how awesome it would taste. The only problem is what it should be named.
We could call it a banango, but that sounds more like something out of the kama sutra. In fact, I may just invent a position called the banango-bango. It may not catch on, but it certainly would be worth the effort.
Mangana sounds too much like a female body part. Manana sounds like something you would have to wait until tomorrow to eat. Banmango sounds like the newest member of the A-Team.
Why am I writing this, you may ask? Why, indeed.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
"I shouldn't even tell you this. If they find out I've been divulging secrets they'll kill me for sure."
"For game-day rituals?"
"If the other team's fans knew the secret formula, they could out-strategize our superstitions."
"You're serious?"
"I've got to go. I've said too much."
--
This morning as I put on my left argyle sock, ripped orange mighty-mouse boxers, lucky v-neck undershirt and was getting ready to don my Mike Richards #18 Flyers sweater I had a thought that maybe this was a bit ridiculous. Maybe the Flyers would win or lose on their own merit; not because of what I'm wearing or where I'm sitting while I watch the game.
Of course, the thought wasn't a spontaneous one -- it's also a part of the game-day routine. I'll never forget the morning I forgot to think about my ridiculousness. It was Feb 3, and the Flyers were playing the lowly Edmonton Oilers. They lost, and I have shouldered the blame for that game for the past 3 months.
After having my scheduled spontaneous thought I fill up my blue Caribbean Beach coffee cup, take David to school and make a right turn onto Umbria instead of the left. This adds about 10 minutes to my drive but it is worth it as the Flyers have a 20-3-2 record when I drive the long way. As I head up Umbria I feel sorry for the opposing team's fan whose superstitious routine will undoubtedly be unrewarded because of the very thought that I am having at that moment. (It's an insta-superstitial-killer, as I like to refer to it.)
With the playoffs coming up I can't reveal any more of my routine because I can't have some other fan outwit me.
The Flyers count on me and I don't want to disappoint.
"For game-day rituals?"
"If the other team's fans knew the secret formula, they could out-strategize our superstitions."
"You're serious?"
"I've got to go. I've said too much."
--
This morning as I put on my left argyle sock, ripped orange mighty-mouse boxers, lucky v-neck undershirt and was getting ready to don my Mike Richards #18 Flyers sweater I had a thought that maybe this was a bit ridiculous. Maybe the Flyers would win or lose on their own merit; not because of what I'm wearing or where I'm sitting while I watch the game.
Of course, the thought wasn't a spontaneous one -- it's also a part of the game-day routine. I'll never forget the morning I forgot to think about my ridiculousness. It was Feb 3, and the Flyers were playing the lowly Edmonton Oilers. They lost, and I have shouldered the blame for that game for the past 3 months.
After having my scheduled spontaneous thought I fill up my blue Caribbean Beach coffee cup, take David to school and make a right turn onto Umbria instead of the left. This adds about 10 minutes to my drive but it is worth it as the Flyers have a 20-3-2 record when I drive the long way. As I head up Umbria I feel sorry for the opposing team's fan whose superstitious routine will undoubtedly be unrewarded because of the very thought that I am having at that moment. (It's an insta-superstitial-killer, as I like to refer to it.)
With the playoffs coming up I can't reveal any more of my routine because I can't have some other fan outwit me.
The Flyers count on me and I don't want to disappoint.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Ankle Waving
Because I don't like posting personal bid-ness in public forums, I've decided to use this space to rant without rhyme or reason. (Well, if I'm feeling extra saucy there may be some rhymes. It's just a sign of the times. On my shopping list is a half-dozen limes. I'm thinking I should do more to prevent crimes. But I digress...)
There is a phenomenon amongst some pop cultures that I want to get in on. I once heard that in the owners manual of Corvettes it states that you should wave to other 'vette drivers. The boating commercial that runs on television depicts a family waving to every other boater. We've all seen the cool underhand wave that Harley owners give each other on the highway. (Isn't that awesome gesture worth the price of the cycle alone? I would buy one, keep it parked on the sidewalk, sit on it and wait for bikers to come down the street just so I can do that cool-ass underhand wave.)
I'm a big fan of these greetings to random strangers, though I find them to be a bit pretentious. As an owner of a Toyota Camry I pride myself on being ordinary. (Not just ordinary -- SUPER ordinary, which is kind of like being extra-average.) Such a show of a wave, nod, salute or even a wink to other Camry drivers would be flaunting our intelligent practicality.
What I propose is this: When you see another Camry on the road lift your left foot up about 3-4 inches and wag your ankle a little bit. This ankle-wave protects our sensibilities and outward appearance as extra normal yet we area also acknowledging like-minded people with an "inside" greeting that is most certainly not pretentious. I've been practicing my ankle-wave (or "AW") for weeks and have my technique down pat. Every time I see another Camry I perform my AW and imagine that the other person sent one back to me. Just think of the wonderful conversations you could have with your passengers. "Dude, that hot chick totally ankle-waved at me!"
Indeed.
There is a phenomenon amongst some pop cultures that I want to get in on. I once heard that in the owners manual of Corvettes it states that you should wave to other 'vette drivers. The boating commercial that runs on television depicts a family waving to every other boater. We've all seen the cool underhand wave that Harley owners give each other on the highway. (Isn't that awesome gesture worth the price of the cycle alone? I would buy one, keep it parked on the sidewalk, sit on it and wait for bikers to come down the street just so I can do that cool-ass underhand wave.)
I'm a big fan of these greetings to random strangers, though I find them to be a bit pretentious. As an owner of a Toyota Camry I pride myself on being ordinary. (Not just ordinary -- SUPER ordinary, which is kind of like being extra-average.) Such a show of a wave, nod, salute or even a wink to other Camry drivers would be flaunting our intelligent practicality.
What I propose is this: When you see another Camry on the road lift your left foot up about 3-4 inches and wag your ankle a little bit. This ankle-wave protects our sensibilities and outward appearance as extra normal yet we area also acknowledging like-minded people with an "inside" greeting that is most certainly not pretentious. I've been practicing my ankle-wave (or "AW") for weeks and have my technique down pat. Every time I see another Camry I perform my AW and imagine that the other person sent one back to me. Just think of the wonderful conversations you could have with your passengers. "Dude, that hot chick totally ankle-waved at me!"
Indeed.
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