Mammal Mullets

I looked in the mirror this morning and realized it was time for a trim. The thought depressed me. I’m going to have to get out the clippers, cover the bathroom in garbage bags to prevent a mess, scrub the bathroom afterwards because the garbage bags don’t really prevent a mess anyway, take a shower, realize that I didn’t actually get all the long hairs upon getting out of the shower (especially the ones around the ears), at which point, the scissors have to come out to trim around that impossible area, which will lead to the inevitable discovery that not only do have to shave, but also pluck around the eyebrows, which is a whole other depressing story.

To make my moment in front of the mirror even worse, I realized that I was the only mammal on the planet that had to deal with this madness. Why do I have to go through this? Why don’t other mammals have to get haircuts?

Like a bolt of lightning, the answer was revealed:

Could you imagine what would happen to the little bear cub that is forced to wear a mullet? Not only would it be ridiculed and bullied by its peers, but there’s a good chance of it being mauled by its own mother as well, confused by its resemblance to some hideous miniature lion. And if the mother didn’t get to it, the father certainly would. Father bears are dangerous enough to their cubs. Just imagine how crazed it would make him to see his own child donning a mullet. Add that to ravenous hunger and you’ve got yourself a dead bear cub.

And what would become of the jaguar that has to traverse through the dangers of the jungle with a rattail dangling from the back of his head. I’m sure a bird or a lizard or something is gonna snap hold of that thing…

And what of the elephant with the mustache?

Or the wildebeest with the Afro?

I guess there’s a good reason why God decided not to curse the rest of His creations with ever-growing hair.

The Positive Effects of Fist Fights

The Positive Effects of Fist Fights

Much like the debate over the BCS and whether there should be a playoff system at the end of the season or a “plus one,” etc., the question about whether fighting should be allowed in the National Hockey League gets recycled and rehashed every single year. And every single year, the arguments are the same:

Pro: A) Fighting is part of the game. B) It happens rarely, and when it does, it’s consensual, and C) it gets viewer ratings.

Con: A) Fighting is archaic, gruesome, and B) adds nothing to the game. C) Real hockey fans don’t watch hockey for fights, they watch it for the hockey. D) Above all, it’s dangerous both for the players involved as well as E) children who might be influenced by the violence they see on television.

All valid points and worthy of some consideration, but if you are to make a decision based on those points alone, you might be left stuck in the middle (as we have been for the past several years). Perhaps the following opinion (mine) on the matter will tip the scale in favor of fighting once and for all:

Fighting makes Hockey safer! Sounds like an oxy moron, I know. But just think – if the penalty for swiping someone’s knee with your stick were getting your nose busted by your opponent’s bare fist, you would probably think twice about swiping at someone’s knee, right? Wanna take a cheap shot at the opposing team’s best player? Well before you do, consider the fact that the opposing team also has an “Enforcer,” whose job is to punish those who take cheap shots at their best player with his concrete knuckles.

There is no question that chippiness between hockey teams is drastically decreased because of the unwritten penalties that are applied.

I would also like to see this unwritten rule be applied to the National Basketball Association. There is nothing more irritating and frustrating than the “flopping” that occurs on the court nowadays. In order to remedy this problem, I propose that a person who fakes an elbow to the face ought to receive an actual elbow to the face (after it has been determined through instant replay that he indeed faked the elbow to the face). The rule could also be instituted for teams that choose to employ the “Hack-a-Shaq” method. They can still hack Shaq, but with the caveat that whoever hacks Shaq will also be at the mercy of Shaq and his forty-pound fists. I’m certain that if Hockey’s tolerance of fighting were adopted in the NBA, flopping and spineless (albeit intelligent) fouling would decrease, if not cease completely, drastically improving the purity of the game.

And while we’re on the subject, it occurred to me that we ought to adopt this rule on California’s freeways as well. Who would dare cut someone off without so much as a blinker if they knew the person they cut off had the legal right to throw a right across the jaw?

I think the NHL is really on to something here…

Messina for President - 2013

Messina for President – 2013

I went to a JoDee Messina concert a few years ago during Cheyenne Frontier Days, a week-long rodeo-themed booze festival. During the evening hours of Frontier Days, a stage replaces the bucking bulls, broncos, and rodeo clowns, and the nation’s top country singers come out to play. They are lit not only by the lights on stage, but also the distant beams of carnival rides and the orange glow of cigarette butts, and of course the obligatory waving lighters that appear at the beginning of every slow song. And in addition to these various light sources, the one and only JoDee Messina was lit by a righteous fire from within. Her cheeks radiated goodness and her smile outshined even the brightest swaying flame, which was actually a lot brighter than you might think (someone must have changed their lighter for a blowtorch). And she lit a fire in the heart of every listener as she spoke in between songs:

Jo Dee: You know, I think the world would be a much better place if we would just love a little more and hate a little less.

Crowd: Yeeessss!!! Yeeeahhhh!! Jo Deeeee!!! [The fans raised their voices with their glasses and drank to the brilliant words spoken by their fair JoDee]

Jo Dee: You know, I don’t know why we think we need to buy expensive clothes from Armani or Goutier or any of those other designer labels. You know where I bought this shirt? Wal-Mart!

Crowd: Yeessss!! Yeahh!! I love you JoDee!!! [The roar bellowed from the crowd and tears gushed from their eyes]

Jo Dee: You know, I think if we just stopped fighting these wars and started loving one another, there would be peace on earth.”

Crowd: Oh yeahhh!!! Yesss!!!! JoooDeeeeeee! [Hands burst forth from the crowd, all raising the sign of peace toward Heaven, and strangers fell upon strangers, offering free embrace in the spirit of good will]

Jo Dee had transformed the heart and soul of every individual in attendance that night. That is, until the concert ended and those individuals hit the town. Bottles were popped, cans were cracked, and drunken debauchery ensued in all its forms.
For some reason, as fundamentally pure and good as JoDee’s words sounded, and as inspired as some in attendance felt, it all added up to nothing, because the words were never applied to real life.
So please, let’s not shed tears over the slick words spoken by our new President, Barack Obama, until his words get applied to real life. Remember, he still hasn’t done anything.

Please allow one more analogy:

As I looked at the faces of those present at the Presidential Inauguration, I couldn’t help but think back to clips of the Beatles on tour, and the mania that gripped the teenage girls in their presence. Their worship of these musicians led them to complete hysteria, almost to the point that it looked painful for them to be there, screaming, crying, pulling their hair…
I have seen that reaction from fans only one other time, and it was at an Oasis concert. That’s right. Oasis. The difference between those two bands (among many) is that the Beatles actually had a few platinum records under their belt, while Oasis had succeeded only in convincing a few poor saps that they were as big and successful as the Beatles!
Obama has succeeded in convincing the world that he is The One, or at the very least, the new Lincoln. For all we know, the mass hysteria might be getting spent over just another one-hit-wonder…

Honesty is the Best Policy Unless Your Life is in Danger

Honesty is the Best Policy
Unless Your Life is in Danger

I have justified many a white lie over the past few months in dealing with a self-absorbed, paranoid, devious freak for a boss. They have all been difficult to justify, as I whole-heartedly believe that Honesty is always the best policy, and has been since the dawn of time, or at least since God commanded men, “Thou shalt not lie.” And then, as if the commandment wasn’t enough (perhaps because men were constantly justifying breaking it) He reiterated it in the 119th Psalm: “I hate and abhor lying.” And as if that unequivocal statement wasn’t clear enough to those who continued to justify their dishonesty, He promised that liars would be thrust down to the burning lake of fire and brimstone in hell unless they ceased all fibbing, lying, scheming, and cheating.

If I were to take God up on His word, which I assuredly should, seeing as He does NOT lie, then it becomes extremely uncomfortable living through the lies I’ve told. How am I supposed to enjoy a family stroll through the park when the burning flames of a lake of fire are licking at my subconscious? How am I supposed to feel comfortable in skin that will soon be scorched to white-hot ash? How am I supposed to laugh at the ESPN commercial that shows the mascot of the New Jersey Devils descending to hell on an elevator? It’s impossible I tell you!

That is until I came across the following verses of scripture:

And it came to pass when I [Abraham] was come near to enter into Egypt, the Lord said unto me: Behold, Sarai, thy wife, is a very fair woman to look upon; Therefore it shall come to pass, when the Egyptians shall see her, they will say – She is his wife; and they will kill you, but they will save her alive; therefore see that ye do on this wise: Let her say unto the Egyptians, she is thy sister, and thy soul shall live.
(Abraham 2:22-24)


In other words, “Hey Abraham, these Egyptians are going to kill you so they can get their hands on your wife. That is, unless you tell them she’s your sister. So my advice to you as that you tell them she’s your sister.” Abraham heeded that advice. And guess what? His life was spared.

And so, it seems that God is okay with a lie as long as it saves a life. And so, perhaps my repeated “doctor’s appointments” during working hours were necessary falsehoods that allowed me to interview with other companies without the risk of being hunted down and massacred by a cagey and psychotic egomaniac. And so, I’m now comfortable strolling through the park with my family, and in my own cool skin, and can even give a whole-hearted chuckle at ESPN’s jest at the devil and his supposed fiery hell. Ha ha-ha ha…

On the other hand, maybe Abraham’s lie was justified because it literally saved the life of Abraham – the Prophet and Patriarch – through whom virtually all mankind has been blessed. And furthermore, it wasn’t exactly Abraham’s lie, but God’s. I am neither a prophet nor a patriarch (except in the sense that I have one child, which can’t possibly be compared to Abraham’s numberless seed), and did not receive a directive from the Lord to deceive my boss. Hmm…


I think I’m starting to get a little hot under the collar.