Gravity Storm

By Wingnut

I”m confused by gravity.

Not the Newtonion physics of it; I get “what goes up must come down” and the whole inertia thing.  I’ve seen Dancing with the Stars, I understand bodies in motion.  And not Einstein’s relativity gig.  E=mc2 is heavy stuff but the idea of large bodies bending space makes sense to me.  I’ve felt the whooosh of a  semi go past on the highway.  Gravity.

No, what I mean is; what the hell’s going on with my face?

Yes, I’m aware that I am firmly ensconsed in middle age.  Heck, in six short years I’ll qualify for the senior disount!  Can’t wait, by the way.  My cheapness far outstrips my vanity.

I really don’t have a huge complaint with my face.  I use sunscreen, I avoid UV rays when ever possible, I moisturize.  I even sleep on my back, as beauty experts advise; sleeping on one’s face causes one’s skin to fall in unbecoming folds.

So why is the Crypt Keeper peering back at me from the bathroom mirror every morning? 

Easy answer; because I’m old.

But it doesn’t last.  By the time I’ve had my fill of the magic elixer known as coffee, the CK is gone.  I look ten years older first thing in the morning than I do for the rest of the day, which doesn’t make sense, seeing as I’m actually younger first thing in the morning than I ever will be again.

Hence my confusion.

Maybe it’s not gravity that confuses me.  Maybe it’s the whole time/space continuum.  Maybe I’m actually older first thing in the morning than I ever will be again.  Like Merlin, maybe I’m aging backwards, but only over the course of each day.

Maybe I just need more coffee.

A New and Fabulous Feature to DAK!

Dear esteemed readers, or in the interest of journalistic integrity and truthfulness, reader, as in singular, as in mom…OK, let’s just make it easier. Dear Mom, and possibly Dad if the weather is bad and you’re not golfing,

One of our contributors came to me the other day and pitched an idea for an advice column here at the DAK. I thought about it for a moment and came to the conclusion that this was a brilliant idea. Actually, my exact words, sprayed through a mouthful of crackers,  were “F*** do I care?”

So, here, without further ado, is it.  Here. Below. We’ll run this whenever. -ed

Muzz’s Answer Emporium

By Muzz

If you are like most people, then you have a tough time taking a step back to look objectively at your own problems. Fear not, I’m full of wisdom when it comes to your stupid crap! Some of it anyway.

Family troubles? Bring it!  Money woes? Uh…I’m probably not the right person to ask, honestly.  Relationship issues? I loooove those. “Career” stuff? Mmm…barking up the wrong tree. Wait…uless you’re buggin’ over a co- worker; then for sure let me help. 

In-laws driving you nutter butters? Boyfriend a control freak? Methinks I’m somewhat of a specialist. I’m not saying everyone will agree with all of my advice, but if you’ve got a problem maybe my point of view can at the very least help you see things a little clearer.

Whether my advice is right on the money or way far off, I’m just trying to help. One way to help me help you is to provide all the details you can regarding your situation. All of them, especially the embarrassing and/or salacious ones. But stay anonymous- it’ll make things easier for everybody. Think of me as a priest, or a doctor. Everything you tell me is private, except that it’ll be all over the internet. Again, no boring problems about work or money. If I wanted to listen to those, I’d marry you.

Long Time Ago When We Was Fab….

by Bill

Famous Author Guy: “You know what tomorrow is don’t ya?”

Me: “Oh yeah, undefeated St. John’s against undefeated St. Thomas… 6th ranked Johnnies vs. 15th ranked Tommies!”

Famous Author Guy: (laughing) “alright, you’re all over it!”

We were roughly 1,000 miles away from Collegeville, MN where the game would be played the following day and we were there for a pretty cool event, but that was the first thing he said to me when he saw me– “You know what tomorrow is, don’t ya?”

Of course I knew.  Famous Author Guy and I had played football together at St. Thomas back in the 80’s and though my interest in Tommie football has waned over the years of mediocrity, my interest has been piqued again by this year’s undefeated squad.  A new coach seems to have St. Thomas back to the winning ways of my era.  The matchups with the Johnnies from my time at St. Thomas were always epic and our coach at the time, Mark Dienhart, had come as close to pulling even with St. John’s legend John Gagliardi as anyone ever had.

My sophomore year we had them seemingly dead to rights,  we had the ball and a 15-13 lead with about a minute to play– some high school friends of mine had actually left the stadium (along with a lot of others), thinking the game was all but over.  Whoops.  We screwed up and somebody went out of bounds when he shouldn’t have, stopping the clock before we had to punt the ball away. Two fast completions later and the Johnnies kicked a winning field goal as time expired. That was my baptism into the famed “Tommie/Johnnie” rivalry.

The following season was my first trip to St. John’s and I was bowled over by the beautiful campus and football stadium.  I was hurt for the season so I was able to take in the rivalry in a way I never could have playing. We entered the game ranked 3rd in the country,  but of course the Johnnies were ranked 2nd (always just a little bit better than us).  After two three-and-outs, one by each team, our QB fired a 65-yard touchdown bomb and standing on the sidelines I was shocked to hear what I thought was a gun shot.  Then another.  I turned to look into the St. Thomas crowd to see about 20 more bottles of champagne uncorked and sprayed over a delirious crowd.  Six touchdowns later and we had given Gagliardi his worst loss ever at St. John’s, 56-21.

And that’s about it for my pleasant memories from this rivalry.

We’d lost 11 straight going into this year’s game, but at 5-0 I had a good feeling they might pull off the upset.  Seeing a former teammate hold a crowd of about 1,200 in the palm of his hand the night before had to be a good sign, didn’t it?

So I’m at work today–watching college football all day, but of course not the one game I really cared about.  Around 3pm MST time I figure the game in Collegeville has to be over, so I log on to a site that live-streams the scoring for Division III games.  It tells me that the score is 14-7 in favor of the Johnnies, but that St. Thomas has a first and goal at the St. John’s 2-yard line.  We have to punch it in from there and tie it up, right?

I flex an inordinate amount of patience and wait 5 minutes to hit refresh.  I look away for good luck and gird myself before looking back at the screen.

St. Thomas ball on the St. John’s 2-yard line, first and goal.  What the hell?!? This has to be the longest time-out ever!

My patience is gone, so I hit “refresh” 10 times over the next 10 minutes.  It won’t refresh. Ever.  According to this site, the two teams will be locked at the Johnnie two-yard line for all of eternity.

I calmly bash my computer repeatedly about the head and neck, mumbling, “what the frig happened? what the FRIG HAPPENED? WHAT THE FRIGGEN FRUG HAPPENED?!?!?!

Turns out the teams hadn’t frozen in time, it was just that website.  The Tommies had indeed punched it in, but alas, had gone on to lose in overtime, 20-17.  Twelve straight losses to the Johnnies.

But it was fun thinking about it.  It was fun reading that 12,903 people had watched a Division III football game in an absolutely gorgeous stadium that holds 7,482 people.  That’s over 5,000 people strewn about the grassy hills that surround the field.  That’s awesome.

It was really fun to see a former teammate the night before the big game where he was on stage as Famous Author Guy.  His book tour has him in another city today and I’m sure at some point he logged on and was just as disappointed in the outcome as I was– you never get so rich and famous that you stop caring about things like that– and if you do, there’s nothing that fame and fortune can do for you, you’re a lost cause.

We’ll get ’em next year.

 

Id Gone Wild

By katie

Just got back from Where the Dull, Whiny Bastards Are.

I know what you’re thinking; “But Katie, you have pig-flu! What on Earth are you doing, taking time out of your busy sleep schedule to bring your kids to the movies? You’ve just been short-listed for a Nobel Prize!”

Oh, stop, you sillies…I think we can all agree I’m way over-qualified for that. But my pig-flu seems to have dulled it’s roar somewhat, and anyway, I was excited to see it. I’d heard it was controversial, and there’s nothing I like more than exposing my children to controversy. I mean we all know the best “kids” stories explore sophisticated themes, and so long as they’re wrapped in something entertaining, I’m all for it.

I’ll try and keep this brief. There’s this kid, Max, and he’s a really bratty pain in the ass. He throws fits and scowls and plays games most 11-12 year olds outgrew 2 years ago. This was red flag number one for me…if they’d cast a 7 or 8 year old, Max might have come across as endearing and lost, but the Max in this movie is just plain old enough to know better than to pull some of the stunts he does. Max has a sister, who is a bitch, and a mom who is totally impotent in the parenting department.

One night, mom has a date over and Max dresses up in a wolf costume, stands on the kitchen counter and yells “Feed me woman!” at her. She, instead of doing what any normal mom would do (again, if he’d been 7 or 8, that would be to look at him and say “Get off the counter”. If a 13-year old actually did this in real life, I think most moms in this day and age would draw the logical conclusion that Max was probably just stoned) immediately starts screeching at him and telling him he’s “OUT OF CONTROL!! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!” Uh…that’s a pretty short fuse you got there, mom…I wonder why daddy’s off doinking his secretary?

Anyway, Max takes off out of the house, jumps in a boat and sails off to the land of All The Demons Who Reside In His Id. There’s Carroll, a rage-a-holic whose gal left him. There’s the gal, who is mopey because no one understands why she left. There’s goat boy, a suicidal depressive who can’t get anyone to listen to him. There’s a sharp-tongued lady-demon who seems like she might be voiced by Joy Behar, but I wasn’t sure. There’s her mate, who seems depressed because he’s her mate, and there’s a big ox-looking thing with human feet who never talks.

Max and the demons spend the next 5000 hours or so working through their issues of alienation, abandonment and disappointment. I know, it’s sounds super fun, but trust me, it wasn’t. Like I said, the best children’s stories take on deep issues, but they do it in an entertaining way. This movie, on the other hand, was like having front-row seats into some unhappy family’s therapy session. If only Spike Jonz had remembered the wise words of Mary Poppins: “A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down.” It was so stupefyingly dull, I was begging for someone to come out and shoot Bambi’s mom.

My son leaned over and asked if we could leave after half an hour, my daughter fell asleep with her socks on her hands. We stayed until the bitter end. I don’t know why.

I’m back home, back in my jammies and the boy is burning through the Harry Potter books for the third time in a row. Now that’s a story.