Brant's Blog of Awesomeness

Ladies: Check Out What You'll Be Wearing This Fall

This is a highlight from a bigfat Paris fashion show-thing this week.  It's a "preview of fall fashions".

I was talking about it this morning.  It's pretty awesome. 

It's a giant picture frame.

Yep.

A Sports Fan Offers His Sporty Opinion About Sports

Okay, so we were talking about sports this morning, and the Dolphins and stuff.  And I mentioned a few truisms about sports, at least in my opinion, and said I'd post them.  So they're below.

Bear in mind, I'm a huge sports fan, and will happily debate the merits of the cover-2 defense.  But -- and I intend this mainly for guys, but who knows? -- I lovingly submit the following:

1)  The importance of sports is so overblown in this country, it's bizarre.

2)  Any man who lets his team's performance affect his attitude with friends, his mood with his family, even for a minute, needs to knock it off and grow up.

3)  If you're so bereft of drama in your life that you need to live-and-die with the performance of a sports team, come here and I'll give you some drama.

4)  A study of men's behavior linked performance of their favorite NFL or college team to their personal self-worth.  If that applies to you, think about how bizarre that is, and try to be a big boy.

5)  Sports, for the consumer, better be fun.  It's entertainment.  If you consume sports, and you can't see it for what it is, can't bear to have someone poke fun at it, you need to get over it.

6)  If you have actual animosity -- even an ounce, a shred -- for someone who went to Florida, because you went to Florida State, you're acting like a baby.

7)  If you can't play sports without your ego getting involved, or you throw little fits, don't be too upset if I laugh at you.  It's hard to suppress sometimes.

8)  If you've let society so affect you that you are even slightly disappointed with your child because of he's not a great athlete, somebody ought to hit you with an accordion, because that's pathetic, and it's your problem, not your boy's.  Get over yourself.

I think that about covers it. 

Here's My Cooking Show That Shows You How to Make That Chex Party Mix I Was Talking About

Sometimes, I come up with my own kitchen creations.  This is something I'm kind of proud of.  It's like Chex Party Mix, except you make it at home.   It's really good.

My friend Paul said I should show my radio listeners how to do it, so we taped it on one of those new "digital" cameras.  Then Paul edited it and superimposed text to illustrate what I'm doing.

I'm pretty proud of how helpful this turned out to be.  I don't know why everything is squeezed horizontally.  You don't have to do that in real life when you make this recipe.

Serve, and enjoy!

Lobsters: Doing Gross Stuff Since the Early Crustaceous Period

I've been thinking a lot about food lately.  This is due to the previous discussion about KFC and stuff, and the fact that I had food poisoning over the weekend.  (After mocking the KFC "food" bowl, I got viciously ill from eating -- get this -- lettuce.  Somewhere, if you parse this, you'll find irony in there.)

Commenter Mike asked about pork, which we don't eat anymore. What's the dif between eating pork and beef, really?  A good question.  I tried to sorta answer it, and explain the various reasons why a loving God would tell us not to eat stuff like pork.

And then there's lobster.

Folks, look at that picture.  That's a BUG, ladies and gentlemen.  A Sea Bug (TM) and it makes sense that God told us not to eat these things.

"But Lobsters aren't bugs, they're 'crustaceans.'  So there."

Yeah, nice save.  And so are sea lice.  And tongue worms. 

I saw this PBS thing on lobsters one time.  They showed what they were doing down there at the bottom of the sea.  You know what they were doing?

I'm not going to tell you.  It was too gross.  Just think of some gross stuff you could do at the bottom of the sea, and then picture bugs doing it.  Sick.  You don't want to know what they were doing down there. 

The footage was kinda murky, but one lobster was doing stuff so gross I think I saw the other lobsters throw up.

It's utterly remarkable, the Bible.  I don't worship it, but I marvel at it.  This is an ancient book, written long before sophisticated biology -- marine or otherwise -- and it has merciful, real-world eating guidelines we're still unpacking.  It's not a science textbook, it's practical wisdom for humans who need to eat. 

Thousands of years ago:  Who knew?  Who knew about trichinosis and tapeworms and telson taxonomy?  Who wanted to know? (Actually, we did.  We lacked scopes, but got scrolls.)

Thousands of years ago:  What benevolent genius could figure the inefficiencies of mass human dependence on pork, thousands of years before mega-farms and methane issues and caloric calculations?  What compassionate, master agronomist could anticipate the impact on the poor, who would need the very same food energy being consumed by millions of housed hogs?  Well...

I read that we just learned that lobsters bury dead fish.  Which would be kinda touching, if there was a little buggy ceremony.  But, turns out, they just go back and snack on it.  It's not their fault they're gross.  They're sea bugs, and sea bugs do sea bug stuff.  I just don't want to see them make a big show of themselves flaunting this behavior on PBS.  That's my opinion.

I've been thinking a lot about food lately.  This is due to the previous discussion about KFC and stuff, and the fact that I had food poisoning over the weekend.  (After mocking the KFC "food" bowl, I got viciously ill from eating -- get this -- lettuce.  Somewhere, if you parse this, you'll find irony in there.)

Commenter Mike asked about pork, which we don't eat anymore. What's the dif between eating pork and beef, really?  A good question.  I tried to sorta answer it, and explain the various reasons why a loving God would tell us not to eat stuff like pork.

And then there's lobster.

Folks, look at that picture.  That's a BUG, ladies and gentlemen.  A Sea Bug (TM) and it makes sense that God told us not to eat these things.

"But Lobsters aren't bugs, they're 'crustaceans.'  So there."

Yeah, nice save.  And so are sea lice.  And tongue worms. 

I saw this PBS thing on lobsters one time.  They showed what they were doing down there at the bottom of the sea.  You know what they were doing?

I'm not going to tell you.  It was too gross.  Just think of some gross stuff you could do at the bottom of the sea, and then picture bugs doing it.  Sick.  You don't want to know what they were doing down there. 

The footage was kinda murky, but one lobster was doing stuff so gross I think I saw the other lobsters throw up.

It's utterly remarkable, the Bible.  I don't worship it, but I marvel at it.  This is an ancient book, written long before sophisticated biology -- marine or otherwise -- and it has merciful, real-world eating guidelines we're still unpacking.  It's not a science textbook, it's practical wisdom for humans who need to eat. 

Thousands of years ago:  Who knew?  Who knew about trichinosis and tapeworms and telson taxonomy?  Who wanted to know? (Actually, we did.  We lacked scopes, but got scrolls.)

Thousands of years ago:  What benevolent genius could figure the inefficiencies of mass human dependence on pork, thousands of years before mega-farms and methane issues and caloric calculations?  What compassionate, master agronomist could anticipate the impact on the poor, who would need the very same food energy being consumed by millions of housed hogs?  Well...

I read that we just learned that lobsters bury dead fish.  Which would be kinda touching, if there was a little buggy ceremony.  But, turns out, they just go back and snack on it.  It's not their fault they're gross.  They're sea bugs, and sea bugs do sea bug stuff.  I just don't want to see them make a big show of themselves flaunting this behavior on PBS.  That's my opinion.

More Advice for No One in Particular

I'm hereby offering advice to no one in particular.  No one asked for it, and no one should vainly imagine themselves its intended audience.  So be not offended.  I didn't have you in mind.  You probably think this song is about you?  Don't you?  Don't you?

Your Kids Don't Need a Stupid College Fund

I know, you think it's irresponsible.  It's not.  Your kids don't need a stupid college fund.

"But isn't college important, and what about careers and...blah blah blah, boo-hoo-hoo?"

Well, sure.  But not nearly as important as everyone makes it out to be. 

And if your kid goes to college -- awesome.  But if not -- and I'm quoting the Great Writer, the one who wrote the theme from Diff'rent Strokes, here:  "Doesn't matter that you got not a lot, so what?  They'll have theirs, you'll have yours, and I'll have mine."

This, of course, is high cultural heresy.  Wonderful, crisp, light and refreshing -- cultural heresy.  (About which I now misappropriate the sayers of sooth in Family Force 5:  "I want it, I love it, can't get enough of it.")

You're not charged with getting your kid a college education.  You're not charged with ensuring your kid is a successful American.  You're charged with the development of your kid's character.

"But it's still important to go to college and..." -- whatever.  If you've got money to put away for this purpose, great.  Congrats.  But that's a far cry from what some people do:  Working themselves to the bone, stressing out both mom and dad, taking on extra hours -- to make sure their kid gets into this-or-that school for future career purposes.

That misses the point.  You have them NOW.  You're needed NOW.  They need you to chill NOW, and quit modeling that the point of our existence is career advance NOW, before they internalize the lie.

"But what if they don't make enough money and --?"

See anyone starving to death?  Not sure but -- yes, yes, this is the U.S.  And this would be the society that's trying to educate its poorest to stop so often paying others to cook for them, to alleviate chronic obesity.  They'll be fine.  Maybe they could (horrors) go to community college for a couple years before transferring somewhere.  Whatever.

Education is good.  Knowledge is great.  (I wouldn't be chilling here with this dusty book and awesome white beard if I didn't think that, chump.)  And nice stuff is nice (like this hizzy-rocking wood chair-thing.) But if your kid becomes a Doctor but she doesn't truly know you, and your real love for your neighbors, well, you missed the point, and you don't get do-overs. 

You've got them now.

We'd all like more money, more prestige, but it's not the point.  And if you believe that last sentence, quit acting like you don't.  What you believe is what you do, not what you say.

There. Sheesh.

Sage Advice You Didn't Ask For: Marriage

I'm hereby offering advice to no one in particular.  No one asked for it, and no one should vainly imagine themselves its intended audience.  So be not offended.  I didn't have you in mind.  You probably think this song is about you?  Don't you?  Don't you?

Put Your Dang Kids to Bed

Seriously.  You can do it.

If you want to have a marriage with some zing, put your kids to bed.  Put them to bed EARLY. Put them to bed on time, the same time, every night, and make them stay there. 

Then, go goof off with your wife.  Laugh and talk and unwind and watch "Walker, Texas Ranger" until you can't laugh anymore.  Be unproductive.  Smooch.  Do this every night.

Your kids need to sleep, and they can sleep.  They actually don't have to get up every ten minutes.  They're just doing that to get attention and delay bedtime.  Don't allow it, or you're a pansy.

This gives you -- and, more importantly, your wife -- some peaceful time, every day, to look forward to.  Moreover, it lets you stay happily married.  She's under less stress, you have time to connect, life is good, your marriage means something, and you remember you're not just roomies with junior-size roomies running around.

Don't just "help" with bedtime.  Supervise it, entirely.  Let your wife use that time as wind-down time, or to take care of last-minute things.  Kids will want to make bedtime an endless parade of traditions, too, in order to stave it off.  Don't let this happen.  Make it as simple a process as possible.  If you want to read a story, awesome!  Just start early enough that the lights go off at the appointed time.  Your kids will start to complain.  Too bad.  Lights off.  Sweet dreams.  Buh-bye.

Let them know that your time with your wife trumps all other considerations, and, after their bedtime, they are "other considerations."   Kids resist this, but -- deep down -- positively love it.

7 p.m. is not too early for young children.  Give yourself a couple hours together, not one or two nights a week, but five or six. 

If she's stressed out every night, because of her job, let her quit her job.  If you can't afford it, afford it.  Sell stuff.  Move.  Rent.  Forget the college fund.  Don't buy dumb cars and houses and stuff to make yourself feel cool, and miss out on a joyous, stress-limited marriage.  She can take care of herself.  It'll give her time, and energy, to love her children, her neighbors, and you.

So you bought her a nice car?  Who gives a rip?  She'd rather drive an old mini-van and have you around, living life together at a sweet, beautiful pace.  Even if she doesn't think she wants this, she does.

Quit buying stuff.  Live in a trailer if you have to.  And put your trailer-kids to bed, for crying out loud.  Don't let them get up unless it's an emergency.  Smooch your wife.

There.  Sheesh.

I'm hereby offering advice to no one in particular.  No one asked for it, and no one should vainly imagine themselves its intended audience.  So be not offended.  I didn't have you in mind.  You probably think this song is about you?  Don't you?  Don't you?

Put Your Dang Kids to Bed

Seriously.  You can do it.

If you want to have a marriage with some zing, put your kids to bed.  Put them to bed EARLY. Put them to bed on time, the same time, every night, and make them stay there. 

Then, go goof off with your wife.  Laugh and talk and unwind and watch "Walker, Texas Ranger" until you can't laugh anymore.  Be unproductive.  Smooch.  Do this every night.

Your kids need to sleep, and they can sleep.  They actually don't have to get up every ten minutes.  They're just doing that to get attention and delay bedtime.  Don't allow it, or you're a pansy.

This gives you -- and, more importantly, your wife -- some peaceful time, every day, to look forward to.  Moreover, it lets you stay happily married.  She's under less stress, you have time to connect, life is good, your marriage means something, and you remember you're not just roomies with junior-size roomies running around.

Don't just "help" with bedtime.  Supervise it, entirely.  Let your wife use that time as wind-down time, or to take care of last-minute things.  Kids will want to make bedtime an endless parade of traditions, too, in order to stave it off.  Don't let this happen.  Make it as simple a process as possible.  If you want to read a story, awesome!  Just start early enough that the lights go off at the appointed time.  Your kids will start to complain.  Too bad.  Lights off.  Sweet dreams.  Buh-bye.

Let them know that your time with your wife trumps all other considerations, and, after their bedtime, they are "other considerations."   Kids resist this, but -- deep down -- positively love it.

7 p.m. is not too early for young children.  Give yourself a couple hours together, not one or two nights a week, but five or six. 

If she's stressed out every night, because of her job, let her quit her job.  If you can't afford it, afford it.  Sell stuff.  Move.  Rent.  Forget the college fund.  Don't buy dumb cars and houses and stuff to make yourself feel cool, and miss out on a joyous, stress-limited marriage.  She can take care of herself.  It'll give her time, and energy, to love her children, her neighbors, and you.

So you bought her a nice car?  Who gives a rip?  She'd rather drive an old mini-van and have you around, living life together at a sweet, beautiful pace.  Even if she doesn't think she wants this, she does.

Quit buying stuff.  Live in a trailer if you have to.  And put your trailer-kids to bed, for crying out loud.  Don't let them get up unless it's an emergency.  Smooch your wife.

There.  Sheesh.