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Show me, don't tell me, You've figured out the score...Show me, don't tell me, I've heard it all before...Show me, don't tell me, I don't care what you say...Show me, don't tell me...You can twist perceptions, Reality won't budge...You can raise objections, I will be the judge...And the jury...I'll give it due reflection, Watching from the fence...Give the jury direction, Based on the evidence...I, the jury...Show, Don't tell

Sep 17, 2009

The Wall, a broken McRib, a rogue onion ring, Pudding Pop Jazz Night, sixty foot-tall cheerleaders, Patrick Swayze, and a puppet show

So, this past Saturday was all set to be a banner day. Just me and my six year old on a mission to bring home a brand new tv for the newly finished man cave, with a quick detour to grab some lunch on the way. Light traffic, blue skies, windows down, we made it to Skyline in record time for a Saturday afternoon. After a few mustard-no-onion coneys, we headed over to the big blue box electronics store with the big yellow price tag sign. This was gonna be great. I figured I’d bask in the glow of a wall of flat screens while my daughter would preoccupy herself by playing drums on their Rock Band demo. All was going well as she found the drums unoccupied and I found The Wall. What a glorious wall! You know The Wall. At least forty, maybe fifty high-def televisions with crystal-clear clarity displaying images of college football games in lifelike color and contrast. Okay now, I thought, it was time to get down to work. I’ve done some homework, know the basics of what I’m looking for, this ought to be a snap. Uh….maybe not.

I quickly realize that the big yellow price tag sign on the front of the building isn’t so much there for its design as it is a warning to all those who enter. After a quick scan up and down The Wall, it’s evident that my $2,500 isn’t going to be enough to cover the tv-surround sound-blue ray triumvirate with all the trappings that I’d set my heart on. It was clear that I was going to have to negotiate with myself. Do I sacrifice the size of the tv to keep the sound quality? Do I sacrifice the contrast ratio to keep the tv at a larger size? Do I drop to a lower quality sound system to get the perfect tv? Do I get an LCD instead of an LCD-LED in order to keep the sound and the blue ray top notch? Do I profit off my daughter’s Rock Band skills by setting up battles with other little kids in the store, then placing wagers with their parents until I raise enough extra cache to go balls-out with everything? My head was spinning. I had not properly prepared for this. I felt like Akili Smith staring into the teeth of a 3-4 zone blitz. I needed a timeout. And I got one.

A guy standing near me, in his late fifties and clearly on the Santa Claus workout plan, takes a step towards me and says, “You know what looks great in HD?” “Other than football?”, I ask. He says, “Those cooking shows. Saw one the other day. They was at a barbecue and it looked like you could just reach right in and grab the ribs right off their plate.” I politely nod and he continues, “You know what doesn’t look good in HD? My wife.” And just like that, I had a new friend. His name is Don. Don and I talk football, food, and televisions for a few minutes before his wife walks over and leads him off to go look at some laptops. He was right about his wife. She did not look good in high-def. Kinda like a heavier but (I’m assuming) less crazy Shirley McClain. And he was also right on with something he said about The Wall. With the exception of a few sets, the longer you stood in front of it, the harder it was to tell them apart. I know there are differences and that videophiles might berate me for saying this but I was having a really difficult time distinguishing the good from the better from the best. It was a lot like Week One of the NFL season.
I couldn’t trust my eyes.

Was what I was seeing correct? Are the Bills almost as good as the Patriots? Are the Chargers almost as bad as the Raiders? Are the Niners the Samsung PNB860 model of the NFC West? Are the Panthers the Sharp LE600 model of the NFC South? Or do I have that backwards? Hell, I don’t know. I think I need more information. On the televisions and the NFL. I grab one of the blue-shirted sales guys and try to pick his brain for a bit. He keeps trying to steer me towards the special sale-priced items and answers some of my tougher questions with the same look on his face that I surely once flashed to a certain Mr. Rohling when he asked me if I promised to respect his daughter on prom night. This kid was hiding something. Plus, he was wearing patchouli cologne. Rule #32, never trust anyone wearing patchouli. I wouldn’t trust this kid to park my car and I certainly wasn’t going to trust him with a $2,500 decision. I need some fresh air and decided to get out of there before I made a mistake. My daughter left with a Demi Lovato cd (whoever she is) and I left with a mild headache and a case of disappointment.

On the way out, I saw Don walking to the car with his wife. He yelled over and asked what I picked out. I held my arms out, palms up, and hollered, “Nothing. I couldn’t decide.” He hollered back, “You stood there too long.” He was right. But then again, what does he know. If he’s such a discerning shopper, how come he picked out a wife who looks like Shirley McClain with a water retention problem? Was that mean? I’m sure she’s a wonderful woman, with a heart of gold…. and a brand new laptop.

Let’s get on with the matchups….


Saints at Eagles-
McNabb broke a McRib last Sunday so now Kevin “silent L” Kolb has to come off the bench & put up enough points to fend off the high-scoring Saints. Good luck. Anyway, back to McNabb. Do you think McNabb refers to his body parts that way? I would if I were him. I’d have a McHead, a McNeck, two McKnees, ten McFingers, ten McToes, and one value-size McWiener.



Cardinals at Jaguars-
Last week I had five prophetic words for the Steelers. This week, I have five similar words for the Cardinals… Larry. Fitzgerald. The. Madden. Curse.
Sweet dreams, dreadlocks.





Bengals at Packers-
Here’s hoping CBS’ Gus Johnson is nowhere near Lambeau Field this Sunday. What a carnival clown. Can you imagine hanging around this dude? He takes everything mundane and jacks it up over the top and everything exciting to Defcon 5. What do you think happens when he goes to Burger King and finds a surprise rogue onion ring mixed in with his fries? “OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!! DO YOU SEE THAT?! IT’S AN ONION RING IN WITH THE FRIES!!! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!! I CANNOT BELIEVE IT!!! HOLY JACK JOHNSON, THIS IS AMAAAAZING!! I WANNA KISS THE BURGER KING! WHERE IS THE BURGER KING?! OH MY GOD!!!!!

Oh hey, there he is….


Browns at Broncos-
OH MY GOD! THERE’S BRANDON STOKELY! IT’S THOSE BRONCOS TAKING ON THE BROWNS!! WE’RE IN DENVER AND I’M SITTING A MILE HIGH ABOVE SEA LEVEL!! THIS IS ABSOLUTELY AMAZING!! OH MY GOD! AAAAAAH, LOOK, IT’S KYLE ORTON!!! CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS?! HOLY MARLBORO COUNTRY!! THE KICKERS ARE WARMING UP AND…AAAAAAAHHHH!!!!, HE JUST HIT A PRACTICE FIELD GOAL FROM FIFTY FIVE YARDS!!! I’M HAVING CHEST PAINS AND I THINK I’VE DAMAGED MY LARYNX!!!!

(just in case you forgot)





Raiders at Chiefs-
Last week, the Chiefs almost hung in there with the Ravens. Last week, the Raiders almost took down the Chargers. This week, the Chiefs and Raiders have a chance to almost produce an entertaining game. Actually, I have a better chance of producing a hydrogen-powered automobile out of my garage using just cardboard, fig leaves, and the select parts of some unlucky water moccasins. But still, they have a chance.


Texans at Titans-
It’s Cheerleader Pose down Time!












Vikings at Lions-
Nice first two weeks of the season for the Vikes. Week 1 was a trip to Cleveland and now they’ve got road “test” number two in Detroit. As far as I can tell, the only two things softer than the Vikings schedule so far are my grandma’s homemade oatmeal raisin cookies and my grandpa’s ninety year old wiener. Actually, neither of those is true. My grandparents passed away years ago. Does this make me a bad person? I’m just trying to keep their memories alive.



Rams at Redskins-
My two sleeper teams squaring off here in week two. Well, not really. You see, I’ve made three executive decisions this week.

1)I’ve decided that my gut feeling about the Rams was definitely a result of that Mexican food coming back on me.

2)I’ve decided that every Thursday night at our house shall now be designated as Pudding Pop Night and Jazz night.

3)I’ve decided that each opponent of the Skins this season shall be referred to in this space as the Shirts. It just feels right.






Patriots at Jets-
Okay, let’s try this again. This time with a little more feeling…
J! E! T! S! Suck! Suck!! SUCK!!! That ought to do it.



Panthers at Falcons-
Poor Jake Delhomme. Trying to come back from that disastrous playoff loss last season only to toss four picks in the home opener and get benched. But this really shouldn’t come as any surprise. If his haircut is any indication, dude makes some pretty poor decisions. As tragic as it is, it could be worse. He could look like the Elk & Elk guy.





Buccaneers at Bills-
Poor Leodis McKelvin. Fumbles away the game on Monday night then goes home to find his front lawn spray painted with obscenities. http://msn.foxsports.com/nfl/story/10076556/Bills-CB-McKelvin's-lawn-vandalized-after-Pats-loss
Does he not have a quality security system for his perimeter? Would someone please get Mike Vick on the horn and have some watchdogs shipped over to Leodis’ house?



Seahawks at Niners-
Damn the Niners. Damn them straight to hell!



Ravens at Chargers-
Last week, I referred to the Chargers as an unbeatable electric sperm army. That choice of words caused me to receive a little flack from my wife. Apparently, that’s not very mature. Well, in my defense, I didn’t think she’d read this blog. And secondly, I find the characterization not only mature but complimentary. However, to keep domestic relations in good order, I shall stop referring to the Chargers as an electric sperm army. Never again will the words “Electric Sperm Army” by used by me. Other people are free to say or type “Electric Sperm Army”, and hopefully give me credit, but I will not continue to say or type “Electric Sperm Army”. Electric Sperm Army is no longer a part of my lexicon. Electric Sperm Army is off the board. Never again shall I even think the words “Electric Sperm Army”, or any variation of the term “Electric Sperm Army”.
You know who has their own little sperm army? The Ravens…






Steelers at Bears-
Over-Under on the number of times Ben Roethlisberger gets flushed out of the pocket this week: 10

Over-Under on the number of times Ben Roethlisberger gets flushed out of the pocket this week and I yell at the television “Kill him!”: 10

Over-Under on the number of times Ben Roethlisberger gets flushed out of the pocket this week, I yell at the television “Kill him!” and he escapes: 10




Giants at Cowboys-
Time for this week’s poll question.
Why did Jerry Jones say he decided to purchase his $40 million scoreboard?
a)“It’s a chance to see sixty foot tall cheerleaders jiggling in high def.”
b)“Because this is Texas, bitches.”
c)“It will allow me to post subliminal messages to over 80,000 people at the same time in the hopes of selling off our back stock of T.O. jerseys.”
d)"I was conned by a slick-talking, blue-shirted sales kid wearing patchouli.”
e)All of the above.

Answer: e) minus c)



Monday Night

Colts at Dolphins
-
This game seems like it should be fun. Monday Night Football in South Beach with Manning and his happy feet tossing it around and the Fish hopefully unveiling the Girls Gone Wildcat offense for the first time…. And even though I think Miami’s going to take a step backwards this season, I never underestimate the home team in early season Monday Nighters. Too bad I don’t have the new tv yet. I may need to go back to The Wall and make a decision.

Before I do, I’d be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge the passing of someone this week. Patrick Swayze passed away on Monday. By all accounts, he was a good guy who lived a good life, so of course he was taken too soon. He may not have been a great, or even very good actor, but he was just good enough to provide us with what I think are two of the best bad movies of my generation. If you’re still reading this post, then it says something about you and among other things, it tells me that you’re likely to have watched all or parts of both of these flicks at least a couple dozen times. Nevertheless, in memory of Patrick Swayze, I’ll leave you this week with a little of both…



1 comment:

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