Kars for Kids

1-877-KARS-4-KIDS
K-A-R-S KARS-4-KIDS
1-877-KARS-4-KIDS
Donate your car today!

This is the coolest, catchiest song I've ever heard in my life. It's part of a commercial for a car donation company that I hope you all have had the fortune of hearing. The first time around, there is a kid who sings it. Presumably a boy of perhaps 7 or 8 years, this kid has a voice made for this commercial. Then some dipshit goofball who is supposed to be the kid's father takes his turn at singing the jingle. Then finally after hearing a blurb about the company, they end with a third and final go-around sung by both the kid AND the "father".

Instead of me just going on about how fabulous this thing is, take a moment to open a new web browser and find it on youtube or google. Don't come back here until you've found and experienced it. ............. Did you do it? Yes? Isn't it so good?!?!?! I told you!!! Now play it again and again until it sticks in your head. Make sure you memorize it. Then go around singing it for people. Lots of people. People you don't even know. I like to call people I know and leave voicemails for them where I just sing that song a few times. Sort of like a token of good fortune next time they check their messages. And everyone I sing it to, they all LOVE it too! I haven't found anyone that doesn't like it so far, and by now I have pretty much sang it to everyone that I know and don't know.

Feel free to sing it loud and clear anytime you are around me. And don't be surprised if you hear me join in for a verse or two. The verse is just so good that they just keep repeating it!! It's just too good to switch it up and sing about something else. They don't even tell you what the money they make off your car goes towards specifically. It goes to kids so we're told. That could be the CEO's kids for all I know though. I don't have a clue. And you know what? I don't care at all. I love this song so much I wouldn''t even care if they used the money to buy a few rounds of Domaine de la Romanee-Conti wine for every maximum-security prisoner in America.

In short, I know this jingle kicks ass. And I know you do too. So if you, like so many others, try to tell me you hate it, I can see through your feeble lies. Something of such greatness can't possibly be ridiculed or scorned without it being quite obvious that the accusor is merely speaking out of simple jealousy. I can't even really blame them. I wish I could have come up with that brilliant verse. I wish I could sing it like that kid. I wish they took out that goofball of a "father" from the commercial. Let me be clear and say that this nincompoop deserves plenty of criticism. He sucks. But no criticism can be justly given of the jingle or of the kid who sings it. I hope it stays stuck in my head all day tomorrow. 1-877-KARS-4-KIDS. Donate your car today!!!

Here are a few links to show you how much others love this jingle...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j_mNO6KRmEY&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BqIEv3Awfww&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mnyrxiV_jTA
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gYjWYRHSAGc
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7EAP9A8dwrU&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VvmBK-wISCI&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0oCw_hS3-ms&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dK5LOjlN3kw&NR=1

New Puppy!

Today I picked up Buster, a 2-month old Great Dane. He's still really small, but he won't be for long! My friends all seem to think I'm crazy for getting such a big dog. Of course they have little tiny accessory dogs, which is fine, but I always wanted a big dog. I think it's inspired by Barkley from Sesame Street. I always loved him. So big and fluffy and red! Anyway, I just remind them that I'm a 100-pound girl and while he might outweigh me before too long, he'll never catch up to my 5'0" height. Plus he's a dog. And he's cute as hell! Well, I mean he's not potty trained yet, so I know there will be some tough times ahead. But I'm a strong girl and if he poops on the floor, I'll poop on his face! Hahaha, j/k. As long as I keep my A+++++ sense of humor, we'll be just fine! I wonder if he likes beer??

Well, just wanted people to know about Buster's arrival, and everyone's invited to visit anytime! Loves! xoxo

A Trip to the Zoo

Yesterday was one of those rare days where our family had nothing planned at all. We try to have breakfast as a family when we're all together. So as the pancakes were being tossed around to various plates, Rachel asked the kids what they wanted to do today. After Katie suggested France and we surprisingly shot down the idea, Annie asked about going to the zoo. It's an interesting moment when you realize your kids are old enough for certain things. Rachel and I had thought about the zoo before, but never really considered it because one of the kids (or both in the case of the twins) was always more interested in being attached to Mom's boob for a snack than looking at the lion exhibit but seeing no lion because he hides all day in that little wooden structure they made for him.

Now the kids were all old enough to enjoy the zoo, even if I always hated them. Tommy and Timmy had gone to a birthday party before at the zoo. But they were into the idea and we decided to pile in the mini-van and go. I could just see this day being a complete disaster. Rachel was confident things would go well though, so I clung to the hope that she would be right. As it turned out, she was!

Rachel and I had been to the San Diego zoo once before any of the kids were born, and it was as hot as a metal slide in the baking sun. But today was perfect. Mostly cloudy and maybe 75 degrees. Once we got in the park, we were surprised to see that it wasn't even that busy. With Annie being only 4, I was wondering how long it would be before she lost interest. But for the most part, the animals actually showed their faces, and the kids all had a great time. It was 5 years ago that the twins had been so I think it still felt pretty new to them. We ate lunch at the "Crocodile Cafe" and other than Katie spilling some of her milk on Annie's shorts, things went without a hitch.

The best part about it was that the kids all fell asleep as soon as we all got back in the car. So the 2 hour ride home was so nice and peaceful. We asked the kids what their favorite things about the zoo were. Annie said the white tigers. Katie liked the bird sanctuary most because a little red bird landed on her head. Thank the lucky stars he didn't take a crap. Tommy said his favorite was the hippo. Timmy's favorite was Crocodile Cafe. That kid loves food way too much. I think I can speak for both Rachel and I in saying that our favorite thing was that everything came together so well and we all had a terrific time.

Lucky Charms, Ice Cream, and the Demise of our Society

This morning I decided to have some cereal for breakfast. I chose one of my current favorites, Lucky Charms. While some people eat Oreos in funny ways, I eat Lucky Charms differently than most. I pour a bowl of cereal, and before I add the milk, I eat all the marshmallows first. Then I eat the rest with milk. I’ve done this hundreds of times since I first ate Lucky Charms in 2001, all with very satisfying (and tasty) results…..until today.

On this day, as I opened the new box and watched the cereal flow into my customary big blue bowl I bought at Christmas Tree Shop, I had to mentally pinch myself to see if I was merely having a horrible nightmare or if this was really happening. The blasted marshmallows were less than miniscule! What happened? Did the guy from Beetlejuice sprinkle Shrinking-Head stuff on the marshmallows? They were tiny!!! I looked at the front of the box, and sure enough, it said “now with more mini marshmallows!”. Not only was I not as excited as the box indicated I should be, but I was downright pissed off! How could they do this? Take a magnificent cereal and then shrink the part responsible for 99% of its magnificence? There may have been more marshmallows, but there was far less overall marshmallow mass. I tried to eat the cereal as I had always done in the past, picking out each marshmallow, but it was no use. They were just too small. It wasn’t the same. I sadly reached for the milk and for the first time, ate the marshmallows WITH the rest of the cereal. I’m sad to report that it’s not nearly as fulfilling an experience as eating Lucky Charms MY way.

They should rename them Unlucky Charms because receiving such small marshmallows in ones cereal seems like a very unlucky thing. It’s like being fed one molecule of the best steak ever made, or being forced to clip only one toenail. Needless to say it was an overwhelmingly underachieving experience for me.

On a similarly different note, has anybody noticed that half-gallon containers of ice cream are now tiny as well? I picked up a carton of Breyer’s Ice Cream (not my favorite), and it almost slipped right between my fingers! The base was narrower than the top on all 4 sides, and it was thin….really thin. It no longer contains a half gallon. It still costs the same as a half gallon, but you only get three-quarters of a half gallon (or 1.5 quarts). At first I felt like Breyer’s couldn’t get away with this and people wouldn’t be dumb enough for them to pull off their not-so-clever scheme to make more money. But then I looked around and saw that ALL of the brands had 1.5-quart containers instead of the old standard of 2 quarts. I had heard of cracker companies having smaller packages, or simply putting less product in each package, but I hadn’t seen this coming. This is collusion! This is blaspheme! This is an outrage! Somebody do something!!!!

Changes like this will bring about the demise of our society, and for obvious reasons.

High Priorities

Priorities are funny. No matter who you are, you have them. You cannot escape them. Even if you make a conscious effort to have no priorities at all, you have made that a priority. Another funny thing about priorities is that some are decided consciously, and sometimes they have a way of sneaking up on you like a fox sneaks up on a poor defenseless Guinea Hen, except your priorities don’t eat you.

I’m not particularly proud of this aspect of my personality, but I recently realized that through the years, I’ve let priorities choose me more often than I’ve chosen them. This doesn’t sound like a particularly good thing, and that’s because it isn’t. This passive approach towards my priorities has definitely kept me from achieving certain things and caused me problems at times.

I think it’s important to understand that choosing our priorities is a major part of how we define and think of ourselves. Without doing that, I will always have questions about who I am and what I want. Stumbling upon an occasional nugget of gold is great, but invariably I will end up with more gold if I actually look for it instead of waiting to trip on it.

Why am I writing all of this mumbo-jumbo? I think I’m going through a time in my life where I am learning to take control of my priorities. It’s only taken 32 years. There are things I want to pursue in life that I haven’t yet. Somehow, these things have become more and more important to me and I am now starting to act like they are actual priorities. How do I know? Well I think that for something to be a real priority, you have to be willing to make sacrifices for it.

I’ve enjoyed doing Fantasy Baseball leagues online for years. I got very good at it, to the point where I made money off of them. It also took a lot of my time. This February, I decided that as much as I have enjoyed Fantasy Baseball, I value my time more, and so I didn't enter a team this year. And a couple of weeks ago, with several very specific priorities in mind, I decided to quit competitive bowling. Yes, folks, that means I won’t be bowling in any leagues next year. Without regular practice, I won’t realistically be able to compete in tournaments and roll-offs. I’ve enjoyed bowling competitively since I was 9 years old, yet this choice to stop bowling has filled me with hope and excitement, not sadness.

It’s strange how in some cases, you can specifically decide something will be a priority to you. But in other cases, priorities seem to change almost by themselves. They can act like your sense of taste, changing occasionally. And sometimes they stay real far away and blurry, and then at some point in time become closer and crystal clear. Keeping this blog is a good writing tool for me, so I think I’ll make it more of a priority. Expect more soon!

How old are you, and who cares???

Monday was my 32nd birthday. Every year, someone different asks "Do you feel XX years old?" and I usually give some cliche respone such as having been told I have a mental age of about 12. But after giving some thought, I don't really think I've ever felt my age. For one thing, I've never minded getting older, seeing that number get higher and higher. I love my birthdays as usually it's a pretty fun time for me. But I have no idea how to associate the person that I am with the number 32, or more importantly why I even should.

I think a good question to ask is what are things we use as indicators of age? Certainly maturity and body condition are probably the biggest two. Beyond that, I'm sure some people out there would say financial status although I disagree. No, I think that's it: maturity and body condition.

#1) Maturity. This is simple. I know people over 60 that are less mature than other people I know that are still in high school. For the most part, with age comes maturity. But there are so many exceptions to the rule that I cannot allow myself to correlate my maturity level with a number such as the number of years I have been alive.

#2) Phsical Condition. Again, this is so subjective that I can't be bothered trying to plot my physical condition on an age chart. I know a lot of people my age that are in better shape than me, and a lot that are in worse shape. Am I in better shape than 95% of 80-year olds? Sure. OK, so I feel great telling you I feel less than 80.

So how then can I possibly tell you how old I feel and have it actually mean anything? And what possibly could be my point in all of this? You're in luck because I'm going to tell you starting next sentence. With respect to most things in life, your age means about as much as a bowling alley with no pins. What does matter is how you live and how you approach life. Are you mature? If not, how come? If you think you are, what are the traits in yourself that lead you to be mature? And regarding physical condition, do you take care of your body? Do you completely neglect it? Diet and exercise.....sounds so simple but it takes more discipline than I personally have given it.

Perhaps one reason that I've never minded my birthday rolling around, even when I turned 30, is that separation I feel between age and self. It's a lot easier to celebrate turning 30, 40, 50 when there is a disconnect in one's mind between the number and the person. I don't necessarily subscribe to this thinking, but just for the sake of throwing it out there, perhaps the less we feel tied to our ages the more gracefully we seem to age. For example, someone who is 50 no doubt feels some sort of signs of aging. Now say their memory was altered and they were suddenly led to believe they were 40, or even 30. Would they change in any way? There is one way I could see this making a difference in someone's life. I think people probably tend to accept certain trends about age and therefore accept those things in themselves, even if they don't like them. For instance many 50-year olds have developed a bit of a gut or spare tire, and a person who is 50 may come to accept theirs as common and simply part of being 50 while if they believed they were 30 maybe they'd reject this and do something about having a few too many pounds.

It always strikes me in a funny way when people don't like revealing their ages. I'd understand if their deal was that people have certain assumptions about different ages. But most often I think the person is embarassed because they are the ones with those assumptions about age.

Ultimately, I will always have my age around. Perhaps as I approach middle age (whatever that is??) and beyond, maybe the number will affect me more, but I certainly don't plan on it. For now I simply could care less what my age is or anyone else's for that matter. It's merely a man-made concept. But at least it's useful for knowing that a 21-year is completely responsible with alcohol and a 20-year old can't be trusted within 10 miles of a pint of beer or glass of wine.

A Message from Baxter the Horse

Hello there. My name is Baxter. I am a big horse. I live in Cumberland, Rhode Island. I’m writing to you because I think many of you are misinformed about horses. I live with 13 other horses in a stable owned by an older man and his family. Most of the horses here are owned by other people who keep their horses here. I belong to the family here at the farm. I have lived here all my life, 12 human years.

Until several years ago, I thought the humans took care of us but weren’t the ones responsible for us being here. But then I’ll never forget the day when Chive, an old horse that had just arrived from Illinois when he told me that he had learned the humans were actually responsible for us being here. Chive had more knowledge than any horse I had ever met. He taught us that many years ago, us horses were used to help humans and their things get around quicker. But then the time came when cars replaced horses, and we were no longer needed for our speed or our ability to pull wagons. Life as a horse is quite different now. Our biggest thrill now is being ridden or played with several hours here and there. It’s fun time, but only because the rest of the time is spent standing around. How often do you drive by a stable and see us standing around looking bored out of our minds? Well we’re certainly not faking it.

Where I think the misunderstanding that comes into play is that humans see that we enjoy our time with them and think we must love our lives the way they are. This couldn’t be further from the truth. Our time playing with humans breaks up the monotony of an otherwise boring and pointless life. Back in the days of horses being used for travel, horses were captive just like we are now, but having a real purpose must have given them some sense of worth. All of us horses get along well enough, but there’s only so happy a horse can be when in captivity. And there’s only so much fun a group of horses can have when they’re all depressed. Most horses have come to accept life as it is nowadays, but I still dream of running free. Another horse here at the stable, Hadley, spoke of horses like us that run free and aren’t controlled by humans. It seems hard to believe, but it also seems this is how things should be. I would forgive the humans for what they did to our species in the beginning. At least there was a practical reason they had for wanting our help. But without a purpose, our imprisonment is unjust and immoral. And I get mad at myself every time I let myself have fun with the ones responsible for taking away our freedom. But I can’t seem to change because to give up that fun is to give up the only time I ever have that makes me forget that I’m a prisoner.

I wish people would realize what they have done to us horses, as well as many other species of animals. I learned about cows and how there aren’t any cows that run free at all. I don’t even think they are a species anymore, having gone extinct when the last wild cow died. They are merely become a product now, used for milk and (gulp) meat. While I doubt there are many left, at least I can still dream about the horses that have no boundaries, no fences. Running free wherever they choose, exploring. Drinking from a stream, running along the ocean feeling the salt water cover my hooves as it comes and goes. That is my wish. I don’t think it’s an unreasonable wish. I just wish for the same thing America holds as its core guiding principle….freedom.

The Battle for Control: Parents vs. Children

It's nearing six years that I've worked at the bowling alley. Over these six years, I've had the opportunity to see billions of children and billions of parents. Normally, I don’t usually making sweeping generalizations about people because I feel a large sample size is needed before you can make a credible judgment call about something as complex as human beings. That being said, it's safe for me to say based on all that I've seen at the alley that good parenting yields good kids, and bad parenting makes for children with issues. I've also noticed that you can tell what kind of parent someone is simply by watching them with their kid for 30 minutes in a bowling alley. And in most cases, it's usually a case of who controls whom, and when the parents are in control, how they keep that control. Of course, the balance of control in parent-child relationship isn't exactly a simple thing. However it usually takes about 2 seconds to notice who the "pack leader" is, and another second or two to digest how that person maintains their dominance.

Case in point. Parent and 4-year old are bowling for 30 minutes. Nothing really stands out until the lane gets shut off at the end of the time, at which time the kid decides to start fake crying. I'm too far away to hear what the fuss is about, but right away the parent comes up and virtually pleads for us to give them an extra few minutes so the child can bowl 2 or 3 extra frames. Meanwhile the child has stopped fake crying and is intently watching the parent to see what comes next. I ask if they are trying to finish a certain game, and the parent says they aren't even keeping score, but he/she promised their child two last turns. At this point, I offer them another 15 minutes for $7, and generally they accept. Either way, the kid usually ends up fake-crying again, either at the end of the extra time or because they didn't get their way. The parent gets the kid to stop crying though, because after their apology doesn't work, promising they will go for ice cream instead does the trick.

This is just one example. Kids run around the alley like it's playground as their parents watch on. Kids run down the lanes almost to the pins before I get on the loudspeaker and yell for them to come back, the parents having not noticed because they were busy chatting amongst themselves. Parents trading in their child's bowling shoes 3 times, and then when I ask why they keep asking for the same size each time, they tell me the kid doesn't like the style of the other ones. I could go on and on.

There is just as much to notice about the good parents and children. I often see families in which the kids are polite and respectful, both to their parents and to us workers. They abide by the rules of their parents and the alley. They accept when their time is done and are happy because they had a great time. Their parents are content, relaxed, and happy. They appreciate what they are doing instead of trying to manipulate their parents into getting a little more of everything. I believe this comes from good parenting, mutual respect and a balance of control.

What’s most important here isn't the examples, it's the lessons to be learned…. Giving your child a treat (like going bowling) should be enough of a treat. Spoiling a kid makes them undisciplined and makes you miserable. Making them happy at all times will yield the opposite over time. Children respect boundaries that are clear and consistent. Some people don't like the idea of giving limitations to their kids, but they need to understand that providing clear parameters that define what is appropriate and inappropriate give your child the opportunity to flourish and mature. Stick to what you say. If you threaten consequences for bad behavior, follow through. Stick to your word and don't break promises. Don't treat your child as an equal, but treat them with the same level of respect you'd give anyone, young or old.

I consider myself lucky. While my parents were raising my sister and I, they had a good understanding of these concepts and how to apply them in real life. As much as I feel I have my own understanding of how I’d like to apply these concepts with my own children, it means little until the time actually comes. And assuming I am given that chance someday, I hope to make the most of what I have learned and be a better father for it.

A Discourse on Brussels Sprouts

After receiving several requests for topics to write about, I think it's important enough to address the subject of Brussels Sprouts right away. Yesterday I went out to the grocery store and purchased (for the first time ever) a little cardboard bucket of fresh Brussels Sprouts. The way I was asked to discuss these veggies made me realize I'm not the only one who finds Brussels Sprouts mysterious. I have to admit I didn't even know it was called Brussels Sprouts. I always thought it was Brussel Sprouts. Now I am one unit smarter.

I knew I was going to have to taste these much-hated little foods, but I wanted to educate myself a little about them before getting started. I learned several very important things. I won't bore you with history other than they were grown as early as 1200 in Belgium, more specifically Brussels (surely a coincidence). And they were brought to the U.S. by the French around 1800. More importantly, I learned that Brussels Sprouts contain Sinigrin which is believed to help prevent Colon Cancer. However, they also contain Goitrin which can interfere with Thyroid hormone production, which doesn't sound good. However you'd have to eat a lot of Brussels Sprouts (which nobody does) to have bad stuff happen to you.
I also learned that most people hate Brussels Sprouts due to the fact that they are usually overcooked. Overcooking this vegetable releases the Sinigrin which smells like sulfur and that's nasty. By the way, if you drink from the Fountain of Youth in St. Augustine, Florida, you'll find out the water contains lots and lots of Sulfur, which you can taste. The Fountain of Youth is all a load of crap though and you certainly age the same if not quicker. OK Back to Brussels Sprouts.

Wikipedia, which is where I learned most of this good stuff, told me to boil them for 6 minutes only, and this leaves them properly cooked, yet not overcooked and smelly. So I chose three similarly-sized specimens. I left one on the plate, and threw the other two into boiling water. After exactly 6 minutes, I removed the first one, and after 10 minutes, removed the second one.
Before I get into results, I should mention I don't like many vegetables, and when it comes to green vegetables, I usually prefer them raw. Having said that, I tried the raw Brussels Sprout and wasn't in love. It had a neat crunchy texture, but it was almost too much so, and had a flavor on the foul side of neutral. I was a bit disappointed. Then I tried the 6-minute boiled one, and was pleasantly surprised! Despite being boiled, it still had a bit of crunch to it, and again had a very mild pungent taste, however I am quite sure I could get used to this. Not too bad. Finally, I tried the 10-minute boiled Brussels Sprout, and was surprised once again. I didn't really notice as much of a worsened taste as I did a worsened texture! It was pretty soggy, although it had looked pretty much the same as the 6-minute boiled sprout. The taste wasn't nearly as terrible as I expected, but I'd quit eating them if all I ever got was soggy Brussels Sprouts.

CONCLUSION: Brussels Sprouts are good for you in moderation, and certainly aren't as terrible as their reputation makes them out to be. So I may now make an effort to eat 6-minute boiled Brussels Sprouts at least a few times a year. If prepared correctly, they are a good option when it comes to eating green vegetables.

Thanks to my Aunt Sharon for suggesting this topic. I never cared about Brussels Sprouts at all, and still don't much, but at least now I understand this frequently-misunderstood and mysterious vegetable. So that's good.

In the Beginning

You have entered a dangerous place: The random blogs of a random person, namely Mr. Joe. Be prepared to be surprised, excited, bored, worried and confused, often all at the same time. You will agree with some of what I say, and surely disagree with some things I say, and maybe I will too. It may surprise you how serious I will be at times. Other times I will just be seriously silly. But whoever or whatever you might be, you're welcome here. If you submit questions or topics you'd like me to discuss in my blog, I definitely might write about them. If you have received an invitation to check out my blog, don't necessarily take it as a compliment. It simply might mean only that I know you. If you feel compelled to refer others to my blog, feel free. Just be informed that I accept no responsibility for the mental condition of those who read my blog. Now with all that mumbo-jumbo said.....vamos a empezar!!!