Like most public schoolteachers, my 4th grade teacher was insane. Yet, my memories of her lend an interesting angle on the subject of judging whether or not some music sucks. Let me explain.
Mrs. Kitchens was pleasant enough, but she brought a fresh batch of crazy every day to the 4th grade classroom. Like the time she issued a test to see how our constructive/analytical skills were growing by giving us a brief 10 question test. I will paraphrase the first nine questions since I don’t remember them exactly. But the 10th question I remember clear as a bell. It went like this:
FACT or OPINION?
The United States flag is red, white, and blue. F O
A rat is a rodent. F O
Beans are yummy. F O
Some taco shells are crunchy. F O
That’s Incredible is a hilarious TV show. F O
Adult giraffes are tall. F O
Michigan is the ugliest state in the whole world. F O
Snakes are scary. F O
Todd’s shirt is wet. F O
Your feet stink. F O
How did you do? 1-9 are fairly obvious, and I remember thinking as much during the quiz.
But as I got to #10, I had my first Ferris Bueller moment, a moment when I knew that I knew that my answer wouldn’t be the right answer, but the best answer.
I checked “F” for “Fact” of course.
As Looney Tunes Kitchens read through the correct answers, there were fist pumps and “yeahs” throughout by the kids, even at #10. But when she said the answer to the stinky feet question was “Opinion” I had to stand up.
“THAT’S NOT AN OPINION!” I shouted.
“Really? What if I enjoy that person’s foot odor?” she replied.
Ever since I became Crusading Lupus Blogger Guy, I’ve run into some apathy and unawareness about the dreadful disease.
I guess this shouldn’t be surprising. People have their attention rightly focused on the real troubles in the world: cancer, obesity, the war in Afghanistan, Lebron James, and Lindsay Lohan texting while at court. Others among you remember the kid Timmy Lupus from The Bad News Bears; the poor fielder who got ketchup dumped inside his hat.
Yet, here is the real lupus, wrecking lives – including my own – and just flat out mauling people. But when you look at the word sound itself, “lupus” just doesn’t have the crispy oomph of a “bubonic plague” or “leprosy” where just the mention of the word elicits a shriek.
Instead, “lupus” sounds like something you’d put into a squirt bottle:
“Windex not getting the job done? Upgrade to FDA approved LUPUS for a cleaner shine.”
. . . . or perhaps a fancy circular Roman sculpture design:
“The famous Lupus quarries are found just south of the Vatican.”
So people hear about lupus and they make some big assumptions. First, that it’s not fatal. Second, that it’s not that big of a deal. Both are dangerously false, unfortunately!
Remember the lucky five kids across the world who received Willie Wonka’s secret golden tickets in the candy bars?
Remember the Miracle at Dunkirk, where over 338,000 Allied soldiers were rescued because of unusually calm seas in the English Channel?
Remember in the movie Racing Stripes, when “Stripes” the plunky zebra, through tons of adversity, endured the ridicule of the race horses, trained through fear and trepidation, and sprinted past the others going down the stretch to win the Kentucky Derby and I cried?
Well, those are NOTHING BISCUITS compared to my amazing good fortunes during the past week. And I am not kidding!
Some of you might have been watching Ch. 39 News last Friday night when Leticia Juarez did a story about my search for a potential kidney donor.
As a result, several people have come forward – a few of them with GUSTO – who are willing to be screened. <gulp!!>
It was all kind of surreal how it came about; but one thing is clear: social media and networking have provided a gigantic lift. Even though my mom credits God, prayer, and the “Blessed Mother” (whom I understand is either Sinead O’Connor or Madonna, right?) – I must also tip my cap to humble little social media.
There are at least three irrefutable reasons you should be watching the World Cup.
As you will see, none of them has much to do with soccer itself. While I love the sport, I understand its detractors. One friend just made the comment that he’d “rather watch a 0-0 hockey game, because at least there’s a chance a fight will break out.”
Sure, there’s little scoring, and the from a spectator’s perspective, it might be an acquired taste. But the World Cup has an undeniable spirit – and therefore, an appeal – that’s got most of the world hooked. So if you like soccer AND the mania around the World Cup, you’ve got it made right now.
First, there are the vuvuzelas. If you’ve tuned in for even one second of any telecast, you’ve heard the constant whirring that sounds like a swarm of bees – but one where the bees are the size of pigs. While some get annoyed, to me it is a sound both calming and invigorating all at once. Keep those horns blaring, Africa.
Second, it’s an excuse to get shitfaced at 7 a.m.. It’s a global celebration! And, well, your team is playing and you need to take the edge off, especially if THAT OTHER TEAM (which you hate xenophobically to the point of declaring war – at least for 90 minutes) should happen to score a goal and chucking the remote isn’t enough of a release.
Third, to behold the passion of the world’s most watched sport; certainly the rabid fans and support, but more specifically, the Spanish-speaking commentators at the moment a goooooooooooooooooooooooooal is scored.
Just finished skimming the Houston Chronicle’s article on pickles from the May 26th morning edition. I’m kind of making a sour pickle face, but there are no pickles around.
From writer Greg Morago’s description, you’d think pickles were to America what rice is to China. You’d think that we burn pickles in effigy on 4th of July. You’d think the founding fathers signed the Declaration of Independence with pickle pens.
Morago offers, “As summertime entertaining swings into high gear, the pickle turns that audible crunch into a rumble heard throughout the country.”
I was no journalism major, but I equate this manufactured glee with someone on an elevator going all bonkers on you.
(you enter the elevator)
Bonko Guy: “HI. I’M GREG. IT’S HOT OUTSIDE!”
You: “Yep.” (you press ’14′ for the 14th floor)
Bonko Guy: ”So we got out our wading pool. It’s me, and Chris, and Abel, and Amy. So REFRESHING.”
You: “Uh-huh.” (you press ’9′ for the 9th floor)
Bonko Guy: “I LOVE AMERICAN IDOL.”
You: (smashing the ’4′ button over and over)
All I did was glance at the newspaper, and here comes pickle-crazed Looney Land, and it’s right here in the USA. “WHAT’S THE BIG DILL?” is the teaser at the top of the page. Really, guy? And your editor said OK?
Morago goes on to quote pickle packers as saying, “a good pickle has a crunch that’s audible at 10 paces,” which is about as believable as that miserable Kit Kat commercial with all the fake crunching going on. To get a Kit Kat (or a pickle) to make that sound, you’d have to either put a microphone inside someone’s mouth, or crack the person’s skull while he’s chewing (a compulsion that may overtake you if you actually watch the commercial).
subject of judging whether or not some music sucks. Let me explain.
