Oh the Weather Outside is Frightful...

Friends it seems that my voice is finally starting to echo around the hallowed halls of the New York Times. That’s right. Check out yesterday’s Op-Ed piece by Friedman (that’s Thomas, not Milton.) He’s finally saying what I’ve been saying all along: it’s up to you, my friends, to make the world a better place. His column should be far out-drawing the talking heads on either extreme that we seem to love so much.

So with Thomas holding up my end of the deal, I can end my political discourse for today and move on to a more seasonal topic: Christmas shopping.

The wife and I headed out for a little shopping on Saturday afternoon and to some degree beat the Thanksgiving-Christmas-Shopping crowd. We browsed along and said things like “that’s kind of nice” when what we meant was “honey, just buy me that while I run over to Starbuck’s.” And we came home with a few bags of presents for the nieces and nephews in our life as well. So a good day altogether.

Many years ago, while Christmas shopping as a child I purchased the “TV duck” for my dad’s present. It was a bean bag duck with a flap. It was designed to sit on the arm rest of the sofa and hold the TV remote control. What could be better? I didn’t realize at the time that it was a novelty gift. As I strolled through Macy’s this past weekend it warmed my heart to see that the tradition of Christmas novelty gifts is as strong as ever.

A couple that I noticed in particular:

• Dallas Cowboy Jenga. That will be going in the stocking of my Pittsburgh based brother-in-law. I expect he’ll use the game pieces as kindling, but it will be fun to imagine his friends thinking him a closet Cowboys fan.
• Dallas Cowboy Yahtzee. Specifically, Travel Yahtzee. It’s just 5 blue dice with silver dots. No score pads (because it’s “travel”.) I suppose it could double as Dallas Cowboy Travel Craps. Mom, check your stocking for blue and silver dice.
• Travel Coffee Cup. Not just any travel coffee cup. It has a temperature gauge on the side and an on/off switch so you can have precisely the right temperature coffee on the way to work. So tell me, at what temperature, exactly, do you like your coffee? Give me a number.
• The Chair Massager. The best thing about these potential gifts is that you can sit down for a quick massage while you’re looking over some ridiculously themed Jenga set.
• Electric football. Remember the old vibrating metal football field and the little plastic men running all over the place? It’s back. Greatest. Christmas. Present. Ever. I’m going to run over to Starbuck’s for a minute…
  

So here’s my philosophy on Christmas shopping: do it all online in August. Then, go to the mall at Christmas time and enjoy it. Do a little ice skating, get yourself a nice holiday latte, and enjoy it while there’s no pressure. You want a real treat? Valet park the car at the mall – you can afford it since you won’t be spending anything on novelty gifts. Then take a look at all those suckers in the inexplicably huge line at Bed, Bath, and Beyond and enjoy being smart enough to read my blog and heed my advice.

Merry Christmas. Wait, Happy Thanksgiving, sorry.

Ricky Bobby? Anyone?

Last Spring I found myself in the all too familiar position of defending NASCAR to my elitist East Coast friends. Why would anyone sit all afternoon to watch cars go around in a circle, they asked. Finally after much to’ing and fro’ing we settled on them admitting there was some skill involved and me admitting that the races should be shorter. Well my friends, I spent this past weekend in the grandstands of the Talladega Superspeedway watching 250 miles of truck racing and 500 miles of big league, left-turn-only, stock car racing.

And it was awesome. It was loud and fast. You feel the rumble in your chest when the pack passes by and hear the whirr of the air guns when they change tires. It is a full-on assault on all five senses and it is awesome. TV doesn’t do it justice. I’m thinking of getting tickets for the race in Texas this weekend…

There were a couple of funny moments, as you can imagine. Paul Menard crashed after only 5 miles of racing bringing out the first caution flag of the day. Several cars entered the pits and changed tires. A man behind me turned to his racing buddy and said derisively “we have cars that can go a thousand miles on a set of tires and these guys are changing them after 2 laps.” Seriously? Yes. And his buddy nodded in agreement. [Note: if you don’t understand why this is absurd, tickets are on sale for next year’s race. You’ll fit right in.]

The crowd was huge. 143,000 chain smokers all in one place. It was like the Marlboro Man had died - well, died again - and gone to heaven. And nobody seems to give a shit that they’re flicking ashes all over the other 142,999 people’s jackets.

There was this little guy in front of me, Jesse, who was jawing back and forth with his buddy all day about who’s driver was better, Denny Hamlin or Kyle Busch. Hamlin blew an engine on lap 137 and you’d have thought Jesse’s dog died. I mean these folks take their racing seriously. Too seriously. I doubt Denny Hamlin was as broken up about it as Jesse. I don't know how Jesse found the will to live.

Regardless, the racing is awesome and I had a fantastic weekend which I wouldn’t trade for much.

I admit that the fans drive me freakin’ crazy, though. Maybe you've heard this from me before, but it’s not just racing fans that do that. I have come to realize that every time I go someplace there’s someone or something in the crowd that really pisses me off. I’m convinced – as I straighten my newly acquired reading glasses – that this may be the truest sign that I’m getting older.

So I say all that to say this: the next time you’re in a crowd, and think you’re not being a horse’s ass, take a look around because you’re probably pissing somebody off.