dude, where's yer beer?

My son, Holden, is 5.5 years old. He is smart, a master negotiator, a charmer, a scientist, popular with the ladies, and very smart.

For a couple weeks, we had been talking about how spring break was coming up, and to us parents the very phrase "spring break" spurs a Pavlovian response so strong that its very mention can render an immediate sunburn, a hangover, and annoying falsetto WOOHOOOs echoing from the ghosts of spring break revelers past. Spring break is as closely associated with college and coming of age as perhaps the onset of balding and slowing metabolism.

We had never really discussed with our kids the true meaning of spring break, but children are instinctive and they could sense that the magic words ignited a sparkle in our eyes - a deeply rooted yearning for a former life virtually devoid of responsibility and dictated by nothing more than rambling, senseless waywardnicity. It's something we all struggle with after graduation...the cruel fact that spring break goes away and disappears from your life when you really need it most.

Maybe it was because of our obvious fondness for that one week each year of utter freedom, but somehow Holden picked up on the spring break attitude, the sentiment, the completely care-free, caution-to-the-wind joie de vivre.

As I was getting him ready for bed the night spring break officially started, he pulled on some pajama pants over his bare little buttocks. I asked him "are you going to put on some underwear with your jammies?"

"Dad! It's SPRING BREAK! We can go commando!" he declared.

For those of you without kids, man you are missing it.

Ice. The Equalizer.

There is one underlying force in this world which is the great equalizer. No matter how cool you are, how adroit you may be, how handsome or beautiful, smart, or talented, it has the power to embarrass you, frustrate you, and potentially disable you. 

What is this force?

Ice.

Humans were not meant to function upon it naturally. We are not equipped with spikes, blades, slats, treads, or any other means to travel safely and effectively over ice. Yet since we are curious creatures, we must try. We tried to fly for many many years and eventually figured it out with the help of various devices designed to harness air currents. We really have no business being in water other than perhaps while taking a bath. Yet we persisted in breaching the world of fish by producing scuba gear, diving bells, boats, and submarines. And so it is with skates, skis, boards, crampons, and various rubber compounds that we willingly struggle to navigate ice since we feel we must.

I have come to the conclusion that I enjoy the Winter Olympics more than the summer games but I struggled with the reason. Yes, that's it - ice!

Maybe it's obvious to you, but ice is precisely the single biggest factor that makes the Winter Olympics so compelling. An entire two-week-long (give or take) spectacular circus devoted to sliding. Sliding down a hill, around an oval, over terrain, or in an arena. Sliding, sliding, sliding with varied attempts to either control it or use it.

The Summer Olympics are triumphant with feats that stretch the bounds of human physiology, amazing athletes all taking part in their respective activities on solid non-slippery ground. Ok, except for the water sports, but water itself isn’t much for slipperiness. I don't mean to denigrate the Summer Olympics, but there is a little something lacking in thrill factor. Yes, there’s speed, strength, skill, tactics, artistic interpretation, and drama….but not much in the way of an ever-present feeling that someone’s gonna just totally eat it at full speed.

In the Winter Olympics, you can pretty much guarantee that with every single event, someone will without fail end up sprawled and flailing, skimming across a shimmering frozen surface. It’s a huge risk! It’s dangerous! It's absolutely thrilling! Of course, we never wish to see anyone seriously hurt (or killed, as we sadly witnessed in Vancouver) but it is an undeniable part of our twisted nature to sort of - yes I'll say it - want to see someone fall, or try very hard to avoid it. Admit it - that's what makes all the action. Often in the Winter Olympics, the very difference between winning and losing is not so much who can go the fastest, farthest, or highest, but simply who in the end has avoided face-planting into frosty shame. Ice has no favorites based on nationality, grace, or popularity. Ice doesn't care and it will take anyone down at any time.

Perhaps it is not the desire to see someone fail so much as it is the hope to see them persevere in the face of adversity. Perhaps it is inspiring to witness a competitor falter but live to fight again, and the next time conquer. We love the unlikely hero, the underdog, the one who shows human vulnerability. In one part of the brain it is wildly entertaining to see someone take a digger in spectacular fashion. In a very different part of the brain, we want to give that person a big hug, dust them off and say, "It's ok -- you tried and it's amazing you came this far. Well done."

Thank you, Winter Olympics, for the treacherous, slippery, and speedy journey on ice. I will miss you while you are gone for four long years. 

You know what I hate? I hate it when before you have had any coffee, your boss is standing at your desk asking you for some information, so you pull up a spreadsheet and he asks you to sum 3 columns and you start to do that but realize you selected an incorrect cell and then try to go back and frantically correct the information that you inadvertently clicked on and then he starts telling you step-by-step what to click, assuming you are a complete freaking idiot, have no idea what you are doing, and perhaps have never even seen an Excel spreadsheet before.


Five minutes later, he has no recollection of the event because he obtained the number he needed. Meanwhile you muddle through the rest of the day humiliated and flustered while contemplating a more suitable career as a Pancake Designer/Engineer at IHOP.

I really hate that.

a doppio, please

death is part of life. i don’t particularly like to think about it, but i know it will happen despite my delusion of immortality. having kids makes thoughts of my own demise even more tragic because I know what losing your parents feels like. it is not cool. if your parents are still alive, trust me – you cannot fathom the sense of loss when they go.

so like anything that worries me or stresses me out, i tend to joke about it. if we are to go through all of the hassle of funerals, cremations, mourning, grief, entombment, parades, or whatever tradition your particular culture dictates, shouldn’t it at least be entertaining? i don’t really want people to be sad. i want people to laugh and have a great time.

for years, i have been thinking of starting a funeral home for those who just really shouldn’t have died or who were strongly opposed to it. give those folks a few more glorious minutes posthumously. let’s take a recently departed person who really enjoyed horses, for example. rather than lying them in a $10,000 box on an altar, prop them up on an animatronic horse on stage. the deceased would be posed in the saddle, face fixed with a gleeful smile, and an arm up waving at the audience via a small system of motors that had been implanted in the arm. “Don’t Fence Me In” would be tweedling on the sound system, and a pre-recorded message with the person’s voice would play (this requires planning – not applicable in the case of sudden death or accident).

you could stage a similar scene with someone on a bike or a motorcycle, a skateboard, a putter & putting green, or even some cross country skis. have you ever seen The Hall of Presidents at Disneyland? kind of like that, only more fun. depending on the budget, an entire stage could be set to the family’s liking or based on prior wishes of the deceased. why not have a complete theatrical production featuring the corpse? imagine a musical with uncle larry propped up center stage “singing” excerpts from ‘Oklahoma’.

so you can start to see how if dying is unavoidable, it might as well be an art form. the possibilities are practically limitless!

but for me, don’t go through all of that trouble. take my ashes, and from them make some espresso. have a sip and enjoy a nice chat with a friend.

not that there's anything wrong with that

one day, a guy rode down a frozen track while lying prone on a sled. upon watching that guy careen down that frozen track, some other guy shouted "hey! let me lay on you and let's both go down together on your sled!" "well, that would be sort of weird, but i guess so", the first guy said.

maybe that's how the Two Man Luge event was born. i don't know for sure, but i doubt it was anything more glamorous than that. well, unless maybe it came about when two buddies had been drinking at the top of a mountain and one of them was in such a stupor that he couldn't get down the mountain on his own. so they both rode the sled down together.

those are the only reasonable explanations i can possibly imagine. how else could you explain it? take one guy on a luge rocketing down the track, and that is really cool to watch. but who said "great! let's do it with two guys!"?

was it part of someone's bizarre fantasy? it's not like having a donut. mmmm....a donut. one is great, but two donuts? HEAVEN! two guys on one sled doesn't really buy much more "wow" than one guy.

i can't imagine Two Man Luge practice. "lay on me now, Horst. ok, a little to the left, if you would please....your spine...it's..... ok, that's better.  let's fly."

it's the equivalent of a cycling event with one teammate on the handlebars. or even better, a two man bull riding event in rodeo.

mark my words: men's pairs figure skating in the 2014 Winter Olympics.

we don't often talk about work during coffee time.  coffee time is a time for humor, a time to ponder life's weirdness, and to make fun of stuff.

but inevitably, work does creep into conversation and of course it is rarely serious. other people sit and discuss the outcome of their sales meeting, how they might motivate employees, or goals & objectives for the new year.

when bill and i discuss work, it's an office-spawned episode of "Beavis and Butthead". in our office, everyone is so completely serious, so focused, and so - um - professional that you would be hard pressed to detect anything resembling a sense of humor. it is for this reason that our co-workers can use the phrase "penetration testing" with a completely straight face.

bill and i hear this term and we are instantly reduced to tears, and we have had many discussions recapping the hilarious phrases we hear in meetings and conference calls. yes, there's "end to end testing", or "the tool is broken, i can't pull it up". then there was the one referring to one of our vendors: "they can't handle our load".

yes, there's "load testing", "unit testing", and even "regression" (though that is probably more of a psychological problem).

you'd think that by this point in life such juvenile humor wouldn't pose such an obstacle to professionalism.  but work without found humor would surely be pure torment.

some people just can't "get their hands around it".

here's a sure-fire hit at the office. next time you're at starbucks, get a handful of gift cards. you don't have to pay for the cards themselves as they are worthless unless you load funds on them at the point of sale.

so you have your handful of empty starbucks cards. peel off the little sticker. next, wrap each one in a nice little gift card envelope and place them on each of your co-workers' desks with a note that says "just a little something for all you do".

then, go on vacation for two weeks and laugh the whole time while you think about your co-workers skipping into starbucks, ordering a $4 cup of caffeine, then discovering that there are no funds on the card.

hee-haw-larious!