Now that bathing suits and sundresses have been abandoned for long johns and mittens, I am sure everyone is anxious to get cozy with a brand new Blog Season. Slip into a comfortable pair of dark pants, pour a glass of hot cider and let me provide you with a sneak peak of the upcoming Road to Absolute Zero entries. There is just so much great stuff to be excited for. Let me stop this silly seasonal banter and give you some tantalizing teasers about what the weeks ahead have in store………
Life is Short, Wear Heels
This blog has nothing to do with male cross-dressing or a helpful boost to dust top shelves. Instead, it is my Shakespearean attempt at a poetic metaphor about making the most out of human existence. Life does not stand tall by itself, so sometimes you have to kick it up a notch. There needs to be some peril (aka heels) in living to keep you on your toes. Once in a while you have to add broken glass, flammable goods and a shot of whiskey to see what happens. The blog goes on to explain that the same monotonous flat footed routine will lead to a sole-less existence.
Involuntary Man Slaughter
This suspenseful entry begins with a casual encounter I had with a fellow pedestrian on the streets of New York City. In a moment of lapse, I accidentally pointed him in the opposite direction of where he was seeking. Throughout the remainder of the day, my head formulated a hypothetical chain of unfortunate events that wound up leading to his untimely death. In fear of committing unintentional murder, I frantically rush around the city against the clock. Were my calculations of his fate accurate? Was I able to rescue him seconds before certain doom? Was he perfectly fine? Could he remember who I was?
An Award Winning Essay
This brilliant piece takes an obtuse look at the philosophy “You can do anything that you put your mind to.” It begins with, sure, there’s a chance of success through hard work and dedication, but some failure and depression are destined to happen along the way. Alas, a similar but effortless deduction of that viewpoint can be made as “A mind at rest is full of limitless potential." This means, I can relax on the couch knowing, that the villain preventing me from my goals is simply myself. Perhaps one day I will compose an award winning essay, architect a majestic skyscraper or learn to prepare a balanced meals, but right now I am perfectly content assuming that I could accomplish those things if I chose to put my mind to it.
The Cinderella of Fruit
This touching blog leans toward my sensitive side. I admit, sometimes when I am out at a grocery store shopping for fruit I purposely toss in a few pieces that are slightly bruised or discolored. I just feel so guilty they may have been raised with poor agriculture. Then upon returning home, I place them in a hanging basket beside my fridge and pray those “ugly ducklings”, with the help of my tender love and care will blossom into a “swan”. Do my nurturing attempts end up being fruitful? Or is it a rotten waste of money?
Please Die-Vest
This rant takes a deep look into my strong anti-vest stance. To me, not only is it getting dressed after already being dressed, it is highly insulting to the shirt worn underneath. It would be offensive if you mentioned to a colleague “I enjoy your company but find your face repulsive. I insist you place this bag over it.” The rage carries on and gives a few examples of when a vest is acceptable. One involves a disastrous spaghetti incident during a business lunch. Luckily an emergency vest rushes to the rescue to hide the evidence. Then after listing the practical uses, it assumes people with vests could be covering stains or using an adult bib. Finally, without giving the ending away, it shows ways to expose the vest wearer as a slob.
…so the above is merely a tease to get the mouth watering. There is much much more to this season than raking tree shit (leaves). A cake, an orangutan butler, lead balloons & paint, hot bridesmaids, cold bridesmaids, pleasant druglords, alpine glaciers, a celestial orchestra, the equator, the female penis, talking in 4th person and reduced fat oils are all things stuffed into one great Fall Cornucopia. I am positive this doesn’t have to be reinforced, but stay tuned……….
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
If You Don’t Read This I Will Kidnap Your Family
Okay, now that I have stolen your undivided attention, I confess that it’s highly unlikely that I would go through with the kidnapping. Besides the obvious concerns of serving a prison sentence and not possessing advanced technology to accurately track the people who read this, there are numerous other factors.
First off, I am far too lazy to put in the necessary research in order to decipher where anyone’s family members reside as well as devise a plan to secretly abduct them. Secondly, I dwell in a small city apartment making it highly unfeasible to house more than several victims simultaneously.
Finally, knowing the warm heart I have, I envision myself treating the captives more like invited guests. In an effort to sooth my conscience I would try to make their stay as pleasant as possible by providing recently released DVDs, offering my catalogue of board games and sharing a vintage bottle of aged whiskey.
Now that I think about it, I would have to tidy up the place, prepare balanced meals and do countless loads of laundry. Those are tasks I barely perform for my own benefit. I would spend so much time fussing about being a respectable host that I’d end up forgetting that the sole purpose of these people inhabiting my humble abode was to exhort their other relatives into reading this.
The whole process would turn into an enormous hassle. After reevaluating, I have concluded that this fiasco would be far more trouble than it was worth. If the only reason you have read the above is for family member safety then I am truly sorry for any state of panic caused and for the waste of your precious time.
Despite my apology for the empty kidnapping threat, I must be honest and inform you that I will declare you as “an idiot” if you don’t read this. My opinion will be that you posses the mental capacity of an infant and I will automatically assume that you were a failure in school and reek of rotten eggs and selfishness………..Alright, I admit it’s unrealistic for me to judge one's intelligence level strictly based on whether this was read and my sense of smell is weak and unreliable. Please forgive me once again as I withdraw my absurd claim.
Alas, let me take a stab at inflicting guilt. If you don't read this piece, I will quit brushing my teeth. That's right, if you forgo reading this, then the burden of my decaying teeth will rest solely upon your shoulders……Okay, I must retreat yet again. There is never an excuse for poor hygiene and I am sure that my mom would forbid me to go through with that unsanitary ploy.
Let me try a non threatening angle that offers prosperity. If you read this piece then you will be blessed with great fortune today. I better add a disclaimer in parenthesis and italics. (If you didn't have a real lucky day, then your luck was that nothing bad happened. If something bad happened then your luck stopped it from getting any worse. If you had the worst day of your life then your luck is that going forward, all your future days will be brighter.)
Alright, I throw in the towel. Presenting open ended fortuitous promises or attempting to deceive people into reading my work is quite superficial and I prefer to believe I am above that. The problem is that I wish to be wealthy and recently picked writing as the path to that accomplishment. The simple premise being, I masterfully sculpt this essay and then someone drops from the sky to offer me unimaginable riches.
I already have the situation detailed in my mind. Mr. Magic Man (Triple M for short) dressed in a tuxedo will slowly float down from the clouds and say “I have come across your material and it's absolutely fantastic. Here is a million dollar check and a job offer to write for my newspaper. As per the agreement, a bikini wearing supermodel will be provided as your secretary and here is the key to the city.”
Of course I would respond with “About time” I mean, “Thank you for the opportunity Sir, you won’t regret it.”
Alright, I know the angel billionaire man scenario sounds ridiculous. I’d love to model my past after a young orphaned boy who was dealt a bad hand in life but yet never gave up the flickering hope to be a professional journalist. His heartwarming tale began as a poorly dressed boy gathering cans found while rummaging through dumpsters and fraternity houses. With the small income collected from recycling, he was able to purchase an outdated typewriter with missing letters.
For years he worked countless hours at minimum waged jobs but never relinquished his dream. Sleepless nights in his adopted parents' dungeon supplied his only free time to write and he did the best he could evading words requiring the L and R keys. Finally after 15 years of exhausting manual labor and keeping his spirit alive, he got his well-deserved break. He received mainstream acclaim after penning an ecological documentary titled Goba Waming. His piece reversed decades of environmental damage and he became crowned “The Green Savior”.
However, my lack of motivation favors avoiding the back breaking employment and relentless desire so that I can skip instantly to the big break. Thus, I developed the concept of kidnapping family members to expedite the process. Since my overnight writing career has proven to be fruitless, I shall simply move on to other get rich quick schemes. Maybe performing fiery daredevil stunts drenched in rubbing alcohol, becoming a superhero or composing lyrical recipes for a musical cook book. Who knows what crazy ideas I'll come up with next and be too lazy to follow through?
First off, I am far too lazy to put in the necessary research in order to decipher where anyone’s family members reside as well as devise a plan to secretly abduct them. Secondly, I dwell in a small city apartment making it highly unfeasible to house more than several victims simultaneously.
Finally, knowing the warm heart I have, I envision myself treating the captives more like invited guests. In an effort to sooth my conscience I would try to make their stay as pleasant as possible by providing recently released DVDs, offering my catalogue of board games and sharing a vintage bottle of aged whiskey.
Now that I think about it, I would have to tidy up the place, prepare balanced meals and do countless loads of laundry. Those are tasks I barely perform for my own benefit. I would spend so much time fussing about being a respectable host that I’d end up forgetting that the sole purpose of these people inhabiting my humble abode was to exhort their other relatives into reading this.
The whole process would turn into an enormous hassle. After reevaluating, I have concluded that this fiasco would be far more trouble than it was worth. If the only reason you have read the above is for family member safety then I am truly sorry for any state of panic caused and for the waste of your precious time.
Despite my apology for the empty kidnapping threat, I must be honest and inform you that I will declare you as “an idiot” if you don’t read this. My opinion will be that you posses the mental capacity of an infant and I will automatically assume that you were a failure in school and reek of rotten eggs and selfishness………..Alright, I admit it’s unrealistic for me to judge one's intelligence level strictly based on whether this was read and my sense of smell is weak and unreliable. Please forgive me once again as I withdraw my absurd claim.
Alas, let me take a stab at inflicting guilt. If you don't read this piece, I will quit brushing my teeth. That's right, if you forgo reading this, then the burden of my decaying teeth will rest solely upon your shoulders……Okay, I must retreat yet again. There is never an excuse for poor hygiene and I am sure that my mom would forbid me to go through with that unsanitary ploy.
Let me try a non threatening angle that offers prosperity. If you read this piece then you will be blessed with great fortune today. I better add a disclaimer in parenthesis and italics. (If you didn't have a real lucky day, then your luck was that nothing bad happened. If something bad happened then your luck stopped it from getting any worse. If you had the worst day of your life then your luck is that going forward, all your future days will be brighter.)
Alright, I throw in the towel. Presenting open ended fortuitous promises or attempting to deceive people into reading my work is quite superficial and I prefer to believe I am above that. The problem is that I wish to be wealthy and recently picked writing as the path to that accomplishment. The simple premise being, I masterfully sculpt this essay and then someone drops from the sky to offer me unimaginable riches.
I already have the situation detailed in my mind. Mr. Magic Man (Triple M for short) dressed in a tuxedo will slowly float down from the clouds and say “I have come across your material and it's absolutely fantastic. Here is a million dollar check and a job offer to write for my newspaper. As per the agreement, a bikini wearing supermodel will be provided as your secretary and here is the key to the city.”
Of course I would respond with “About time” I mean, “Thank you for the opportunity Sir, you won’t regret it.”
Alright, I know the angel billionaire man scenario sounds ridiculous. I’d love to model my past after a young orphaned boy who was dealt a bad hand in life but yet never gave up the flickering hope to be a professional journalist. His heartwarming tale began as a poorly dressed boy gathering cans found while rummaging through dumpsters and fraternity houses. With the small income collected from recycling, he was able to purchase an outdated typewriter with missing letters.
For years he worked countless hours at minimum waged jobs but never relinquished his dream. Sleepless nights in his adopted parents' dungeon supplied his only free time to write and he did the best he could evading words requiring the L and R keys. Finally after 15 years of exhausting manual labor and keeping his spirit alive, he got his well-deserved break. He received mainstream acclaim after penning an ecological documentary titled Goba Waming. His piece reversed decades of environmental damage and he became crowned “The Green Savior”.
However, my lack of motivation favors avoiding the back breaking employment and relentless desire so that I can skip instantly to the big break. Thus, I developed the concept of kidnapping family members to expedite the process. Since my overnight writing career has proven to be fruitless, I shall simply move on to other get rich quick schemes. Maybe performing fiery daredevil stunts drenched in rubbing alcohol, becoming a superhero or composing lyrical recipes for a musical cook book. Who knows what crazy ideas I'll come up with next and be too lazy to follow through?
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Retirement Press Conference
While screaming vulgarities at a college football game on TV from a box seat on my couch, the sudden notion of how young the players were hit me. I then realized that I may have to accept that my window of opportunity was shut and it would be wise to retire from pursuing my own professional sports career. I am no longer a spring chicken and it takes many more fingers to count back to the year I graduated from college as opposed to the number I tend to believe.
It’s clear, now that I reside in my upper lower thirties that I am probably a tiny tiny bit past my prime. I know that as of yet I haven’t revealed any potential whatsoever in professional sports, but c'mon, lots of times while eating reduced fat potato chips, I thought there is no reason why that can’t be me. I remember many times being stretched out on the living room sofa swishing balled up napkins into the kitchen garbage hoop (pail) or how I am always dodging and spinning by motionless defenders (commuters or shoppers) as I walk up an escalator.
Wait a second! I am in magnificent shape and have the reflexes of a cat. At that precise moment it seemed asinine as to why I didn’t come to this obvious conclusion years earlier.
Next, after convincing myself I am still youthful with my physical prime ahead of me, I began to negotiate rapid ways to advance to elite professional status. With some slight fudging of the numbers, I was able to determine several routes as long as I concentrate and start training immediately following this freshly popped beer. I want to be a sports superstar but not an environmentally unfriendly one with wasteful tendencies.
One road originates with me trying out for a neighborhood team and climbing up the ranks to the big leagues. Another option is enrolling at a local community college for a second major in communications or astrophysics and using intramural sports as a stepping stone. I assume either avenue would quickly lead to me dominating because of my unique combination of skill, hustle and heart. Talent scouts would then start flocking to view my matches and within months, I would be on the verge of signing a multimillion dollar contract.
A few seconds later cold hard reality appeared in the form of a pushup. As I dropped to do one, my body informed me that it was not in cooperation of this plan. There was no way in hell the above sequence of events was occurring and coincidence was not the reason my place is on the bleachers instead of playing on the field. My motivation deteriorated and my roller coaster ride of becoming a professional athlete had concluded. I strolled back to the fridge for another beer because my previous plan consisted of chugging the last one in order to start training.
Unfortunately, in due time I’d end up revisiting my athletic urge by watching something like Olympic bobsledding or World’s Greatest Shark Hunters. Severe doubt would then overwhelm my previous assessment and I would reflect “Why was I such an idiot last season?” I then persuade myself all over again to become a world class athlete, but to make up for lost time, switch to an unpopular sport with fewer competitors.
Eventually, lack of exercise and irrational blame of poor genetics inherited from my parents triumph. Thus the cycle circles again. I quit my shortened badminton career, store newly purchased birdies in the garage and have familiar feeling of disappointment.
With that being said, I am finally laying my reoccurring dream to rest and am announcing my official retirement from professional sports. I’ll weep today, but tomorrow I’ll turn over a brand new leaf and spend time pursuing more plausible goals. No more silly distractions about being the next homerun king, Vienza trophy winner or curling champion. I will shift my attention to writing this literary masterpiece, starring in a blockbuster film as a rock guitar legend and as the final act in my elder age, becoming the first unanimously elected US president.
On the side, I may dabble in adult film making as well and take some astronaut training courses but that’s a little much for my pallet right now. I am not ruling out performing in an adult film on the moon, but I am not going to put emphasis on that feat now. Perhaps I’ll test several actresses’ credibility on a huge air mattress in my spare time but that of course will not be my main focus.
Anyway, by announcing that I withdraw from the world of sports, I’m able to narrow down my to-do list and make it much more feasible to accomplish. If I have an unmanageable amount tasks lined up, I usually skip them all and take a nap. It’s a quite similar situation at my job when my boss wants a special project finished, the compliance officer demands a report to be more within “regulation standards” and the secretary needs the use of my bulging muscles to move heavy file boxes. I’ll think to myself, you know what, there is no way I can accomplish all of that in the requested allotment of time so it’s totally unfair for me to pick one and play favorites. The only logical and unbiased thing to do is, to do none of it.
Okay, I am ready to announce to the world that I am finally retiring from professional athletics. To generate enough publicity for an actual press conference I may have to expand on the truth, be on every street corner handing out fliers and chose a location near a crowded intersection, but I will do it. It is worth the effort so I can make everything official to my mind, friends and scouting agents. It would eliminate all of my annoying flip flopping. I have already rehearsed an opening statement and it would most likely sound like this….
“I want to first thank you all for setting aside precious time from your busy schedules and joining me today. I have gathered you all here to announce that I am gracefully stepping down from every single competitive professional sport.” Then after a brief pause at the podium to compose myself and wipe a tear away with a handkerchief, “This has been an extremely difficult decision for me to make and I have thought it over countless times in my head. With the support of my loving family and friends who are here with me, I believe that the correct choice has been made. I will now direct my full attention to the crowd to answer a select few intimate questions in the limited time remaining.”
Then I would field the typical press conference questions such as… Who are you? How did you know the press would be stuck in traffic here? Can you explain again who you are? Can you please promise to never make a comeback? Have you ever compared your physical build to that of an athlete? Are those hired actors over there portraying your family cause these obviously have superior genes?
I am confident that with some quick thinking and a little guidance from my agent (am in negotiations with a pretend one) I’ll gently steer the conversation towards how I am in the middle of transitioning to a career in writing as well as many other non-athletic agendas. Of course I don’t want people fearing that my next move is disappearing from the public spotlight in order to spend more time with my family. My folks already see me enough and aren’t craving any bonus occasions.
I want everyone assured that this is far from the last of Pete Lopez. It doesn’t matter if it’s simply because I keep retiring from dream occupations I never had a chance of fulfilling or because I have a fairly generic name. It takes a big man to finally admit when it’s time to turn away from something that he loves. It’s never classy to linger around after your time us up. The best thing for me to do is keep my dignity and walk away before I am beaten. There are so many other things left for me to conquer.
It’s clear, now that I reside in my upper lower thirties that I am probably a tiny tiny bit past my prime. I know that as of yet I haven’t revealed any potential whatsoever in professional sports, but c'mon, lots of times while eating reduced fat potato chips, I thought there is no reason why that can’t be me. I remember many times being stretched out on the living room sofa swishing balled up napkins into the kitchen garbage hoop (pail) or how I am always dodging and spinning by motionless defenders (commuters or shoppers) as I walk up an escalator.
Wait a second! I am in magnificent shape and have the reflexes of a cat. At that precise moment it seemed asinine as to why I didn’t come to this obvious conclusion years earlier.
Next, after convincing myself I am still youthful with my physical prime ahead of me, I began to negotiate rapid ways to advance to elite professional status. With some slight fudging of the numbers, I was able to determine several routes as long as I concentrate and start training immediately following this freshly popped beer. I want to be a sports superstar but not an environmentally unfriendly one with wasteful tendencies.
One road originates with me trying out for a neighborhood team and climbing up the ranks to the big leagues. Another option is enrolling at a local community college for a second major in communications or astrophysics and using intramural sports as a stepping stone. I assume either avenue would quickly lead to me dominating because of my unique combination of skill, hustle and heart. Talent scouts would then start flocking to view my matches and within months, I would be on the verge of signing a multimillion dollar contract.
A few seconds later cold hard reality appeared in the form of a pushup. As I dropped to do one, my body informed me that it was not in cooperation of this plan. There was no way in hell the above sequence of events was occurring and coincidence was not the reason my place is on the bleachers instead of playing on the field. My motivation deteriorated and my roller coaster ride of becoming a professional athlete had concluded. I strolled back to the fridge for another beer because my previous plan consisted of chugging the last one in order to start training.
Unfortunately, in due time I’d end up revisiting my athletic urge by watching something like Olympic bobsledding or World’s Greatest Shark Hunters. Severe doubt would then overwhelm my previous assessment and I would reflect “Why was I such an idiot last season?” I then persuade myself all over again to become a world class athlete, but to make up for lost time, switch to an unpopular sport with fewer competitors.
Eventually, lack of exercise and irrational blame of poor genetics inherited from my parents triumph. Thus the cycle circles again. I quit my shortened badminton career, store newly purchased birdies in the garage and have familiar feeling of disappointment.
With that being said, I am finally laying my reoccurring dream to rest and am announcing my official retirement from professional sports. I’ll weep today, but tomorrow I’ll turn over a brand new leaf and spend time pursuing more plausible goals. No more silly distractions about being the next homerun king, Vienza trophy winner or curling champion. I will shift my attention to writing this literary masterpiece, starring in a blockbuster film as a rock guitar legend and as the final act in my elder age, becoming the first unanimously elected US president.
On the side, I may dabble in adult film making as well and take some astronaut training courses but that’s a little much for my pallet right now. I am not ruling out performing in an adult film on the moon, but I am not going to put emphasis on that feat now. Perhaps I’ll test several actresses’ credibility on a huge air mattress in my spare time but that of course will not be my main focus.
Anyway, by announcing that I withdraw from the world of sports, I’m able to narrow down my to-do list and make it much more feasible to accomplish. If I have an unmanageable amount tasks lined up, I usually skip them all and take a nap. It’s a quite similar situation at my job when my boss wants a special project finished, the compliance officer demands a report to be more within “regulation standards” and the secretary needs the use of my bulging muscles to move heavy file boxes. I’ll think to myself, you know what, there is no way I can accomplish all of that in the requested allotment of time so it’s totally unfair for me to pick one and play favorites. The only logical and unbiased thing to do is, to do none of it.
Okay, I am ready to announce to the world that I am finally retiring from professional athletics. To generate enough publicity for an actual press conference I may have to expand on the truth, be on every street corner handing out fliers and chose a location near a crowded intersection, but I will do it. It is worth the effort so I can make everything official to my mind, friends and scouting agents. It would eliminate all of my annoying flip flopping. I have already rehearsed an opening statement and it would most likely sound like this….
“I want to first thank you all for setting aside precious time from your busy schedules and joining me today. I have gathered you all here to announce that I am gracefully stepping down from every single competitive professional sport.” Then after a brief pause at the podium to compose myself and wipe a tear away with a handkerchief, “This has been an extremely difficult decision for me to make and I have thought it over countless times in my head. With the support of my loving family and friends who are here with me, I believe that the correct choice has been made. I will now direct my full attention to the crowd to answer a select few intimate questions in the limited time remaining.”
Then I would field the typical press conference questions such as… Who are you? How did you know the press would be stuck in traffic here? Can you explain again who you are? Can you please promise to never make a comeback? Have you ever compared your physical build to that of an athlete? Are those hired actors over there portraying your family cause these obviously have superior genes?
I am confident that with some quick thinking and a little guidance from my agent (am in negotiations with a pretend one) I’ll gently steer the conversation towards how I am in the middle of transitioning to a career in writing as well as many other non-athletic agendas. Of course I don’t want people fearing that my next move is disappearing from the public spotlight in order to spend more time with my family. My folks already see me enough and aren’t craving any bonus occasions.
I want everyone assured that this is far from the last of Pete Lopez. It doesn’t matter if it’s simply because I keep retiring from dream occupations I never had a chance of fulfilling or because I have a fairly generic name. It takes a big man to finally admit when it’s time to turn away from something that he loves. It’s never classy to linger around after your time us up. The best thing for me to do is keep my dignity and walk away before I am beaten. There are so many other things left for me to conquer.
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