As most of you know, I'm a quizmaster for Geeks Who Drink. Since I just earned this greatest of jobs last June, this was my first time experiencing the Super Bowl of geekiness, our annual Geek Bowl. I had heard rumblings of its greatness, however, and eagerly anticipated the new experience.
Never one to pass up the chance to make an ass of myself, I enthusiastically volunteered to be in this year's opening number when the chance arose. I initially auditioned for a part as one of the MCs, but there were far too many honkies trying to get their groove on, and my lack of seniority meant I was given a singing part instead. Other than moments in the shower, in the car, and around close friends that it's impossible to get embarrassed around (generally because they're too drunk or high to remember that crap anyway), I had never sung a word in my life. I was a bit nervous, to tell the truth, but when the hell else would I get a chance to sing on stage at the Fillmore? I threw myself into the task, memorizing the entire number in one mind-numbingly boring morning while working at the kennel I work at when I'm not busy being awesome.
My compatriots and I rehearsed off and on throughout the months of November, December, and January, and we had a great time doing so. I can't speak for anyone else, but I knew essentially none of my fellow quizmasters before rehearsals began (other than Kent, a regular at my quiz at the British Bulldog), so it was nice to rub elbows with my fellow geeks. I quickly learned to respect Jessica's Star Trek chops, as she corrected the lyrics about Jadzia Dax (not Jazdia Dax), and it became immediately apparent that Jeannette was four people's worth of fun rolled up into one, that Loki's mustache kicked ass, and that the universe revolves around Tavie.
Geeks Who Drink has been expanding steadily since I joined, and is now in 13 different states. While teams and quizmasters from every area weren't able to make it, we still had plenty of out-of-towners join us for the event, including quizmasters from Washington, Utah, New Mexico, and Texas. Many (all?) of them were in the opening number, which meant that rehearsal on Geek Bowl Eve was a whole new experience. In fact, the Texans had a couple of kick-ass dance numbers that they had clearly been working their butts off to perfect. I think it's safe to say that fun was had by all as we sang obscenities in the Unitarian Church we Coloradans had been rehearsing in for months.
The next day we all gathered at the Fillmore, waiting to get our dress rehearsal on. Unfortunately, the sound guys had smoked too much weed for breakfast (I assume), and we were forced to mill about for a couple of hours before getting the chance. This was cool, however, as this afforded us with further opportunities to get to know each other and for the smart people (read: not me) to leave and get some food. As the sound guys sobered up and everything came together, I learned my most important lesson of the day: it's a hell of a lot of fun having a live mic to play with.
Before we knew it, it was time to do our thing, and I gotta tell ya, it was a blast! I've never sung, acted or otherwise performed in front of people before (unless you count being a quizmaster or playing sports), and I can see how one could get to like it. It's exhilarating. Needless to say, the opening number was a big hit, in no small part due to Aaron Retka's lyrics and music.
Sadly, I was part of the data entry team, so I missed the majority of the actual quiz, but those of us in the scoring department had fun regardless, mostly because Sabra bought some seriously kick ass food (Sushi! Wings! Cheese! COOKIES!) for us to eat while locked away in the dungeon. Well, that and I brought my Firefly DVDs to watch when we had some spare moments. And I had the occasional opportunity to ascend into the auditorium for fresh air, where Jeanette and I serenaded the nearest teams with such classics as Bell Biv Devoe's "Poison" and Digital Underground's "Humpty Dance."
I missed out on the after party due to the fact that I had to work the next morning, but I can assure you that this will never happen again. I fully intend to hit the bar with my fellow QMs next year, and do my best to be a part of the reason that the hotel that houses our out-of-towners claims that we quizmasters are more riotous partiers than the Insane Clown Posse (this is not a joke; they actually said that).
Until then, I will satiate my desire for more Geek Bowl action with memories of this year's extravaganza. I hope to see you there next year!
For those of you who've been waiting to see my part in the opening number, the video is below. I'm the one in the beginning singing about Denver and Colorado, and doing the same at the end (in blue robes). And check out the official Geek Bowl V blog!
BEFORE YOU WATCH THE VIDEO: a little background info. Geeks Who Drink has a semi-friendly rivalry with Johnny Goodtimes, the owner of a not-as-good-as-Geeks trivia company from Philly. So when we sing about Philadelphia, we're referring to him. (He brings a team every year, and until this year, failed to place. Alas, he and the rest of Philly Ray Cyrus got 3rd this time around.)
--Gryffindork
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Monday, February 7, 2011
Manswers
No, I'm not talking about the moronic show on Spike TV. I'm talking about the way a man answers any given question. I've noticed that when I ask my fiancée a question, I'm exceptionally lucky to get a straight answer. Hell, I'm lucky if I even get an answer to the question I asked. "What time is it?" I ask. "Not time to leave yet," she replies. This answer may relate to my question, but it doesn't answer it.
This drives me batshit.
I believe that this is a trait of the feminine gender in general, not of my fiancée specifically. You ladies simply think differently than men. Men are concerned with concrete details; women focus on feelings and the underlying meaning of things. Ask a man how his day was and he'll most likely say, "Fine," along with a short description of his day if he's feeling talkative. As in, "Went to the bank, grabbed some food while I was out, then spent the afternoon reading comics and looking at porn." I call these "manswers;" straightforward and to the point.
Ask this question of a woman, and you're likely to hear an in-depth description of the day's minutiae, complete with commentary on the way this made her feel at the time, how it makes her feel now, and her thoughts on the impending collapse of Egypt's government. This is why we don't ask you many questions, ladies. We've got shit to do.
As such, I am hereby suggesting the worldwide implementation of the "Manswer Rule." If a man asks you a question, then directly answer the question asked of you, and do him a favor by giving him the Cliff's Notes version of things. We want cold, hard facts, devoid of emotional bias. Feel free to go nuts with your ladyfriends, but spare the men in your life from drowning in a torrent of feelings and tangential information.
This make man feel icky on inside. Man no likey.
In addition, when a man gives you an answer, feel free to take it at face value. While men are indeed capable of guile, we are far less likely to be sneaky and manipulative than you ladies (this is not criticism, it's just a statement of fact--we do not, say, create elaborate verbal traps to test you and your feelings). Thus, odds are good that there is absolutely zero subtext in 75-90% of our manswers. I should also note that if there are two ways to take what we've said and one of them is offensive to you, I assure you that we meant it the other way. We don't like to fight nearly as much as you do.
All that said, relationships are a two-way street. There are going to be times when the discussion at hand warrants an in-depth look at thoughts and feelings. As torturous as this sounds, guys, it's as inevitable as your desire for mood-altering substances once one of these discussions has begun. When one of these talks (often referred to as "arguments") begins, it's best to bow to the inevitable and go with the flow. Much like prison rape, the harder you fight it the worse it'll be.
The trick for both men and women is finding a healthy balance between manswers and answers. The better we understand each other, the easier it is to avoid unnecessary conflict in our day to day relationships, whether it's between you and your significant other, you and your family, or between total strangers. Less daily conflict hopefully allows us to live happier, more fulfilling lives.
Or you can just do what Ted and Robin did on How I Met Your Mother and have sex every time you're about to fight. But that could make family reunions a touch awkward.
--Gryffindork
This drives me batshit.
I believe that this is a trait of the feminine gender in general, not of my fiancée specifically. You ladies simply think differently than men. Men are concerned with concrete details; women focus on feelings and the underlying meaning of things. Ask a man how his day was and he'll most likely say, "Fine," along with a short description of his day if he's feeling talkative. As in, "Went to the bank, grabbed some food while I was out, then spent the afternoon reading comics and looking at porn." I call these "manswers;" straightforward and to the point.
Ask this question of a woman, and you're likely to hear an in-depth description of the day's minutiae, complete with commentary on the way this made her feel at the time, how it makes her feel now, and her thoughts on the impending collapse of Egypt's government. This is why we don't ask you many questions, ladies. We've got shit to do.
As such, I am hereby suggesting the worldwide implementation of the "Manswer Rule." If a man asks you a question, then directly answer the question asked of you, and do him a favor by giving him the Cliff's Notes version of things. We want cold, hard facts, devoid of emotional bias. Feel free to go nuts with your ladyfriends, but spare the men in your life from drowning in a torrent of feelings and tangential information.
This make man feel icky on inside. Man no likey.
In addition, when a man gives you an answer, feel free to take it at face value. While men are indeed capable of guile, we are far less likely to be sneaky and manipulative than you ladies (this is not criticism, it's just a statement of fact--we do not, say, create elaborate verbal traps to test you and your feelings). Thus, odds are good that there is absolutely zero subtext in 75-90% of our manswers. I should also note that if there are two ways to take what we've said and one of them is offensive to you, I assure you that we meant it the other way. We don't like to fight nearly as much as you do.
All that said, relationships are a two-way street. There are going to be times when the discussion at hand warrants an in-depth look at thoughts and feelings. As torturous as this sounds, guys, it's as inevitable as your desire for mood-altering substances once one of these discussions has begun. When one of these talks (often referred to as "arguments") begins, it's best to bow to the inevitable and go with the flow. Much like prison rape, the harder you fight it the worse it'll be.
The trick for both men and women is finding a healthy balance between manswers and answers. The better we understand each other, the easier it is to avoid unnecessary conflict in our day to day relationships, whether it's between you and your significant other, you and your family, or between total strangers. Less daily conflict hopefully allows us to live happier, more fulfilling lives.
Or you can just do what Ted and Robin did on How I Met Your Mother and have sex every time you're about to fight. But that could make family reunions a touch awkward.
--Gryffindork
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Spoiler Alert!: The Best Commercial from the 2011 Super Bowl
I hate spoilers as much as the next person. But really, you should see this. Volkswagen has a commercial that is brilliant on so many levels.
Yes, it's "cutesy" in that the child wants to do something seen only in the movies. But we can all relate to that, can't we? Didn't we all grow up with that one true fantasy of what we could be? Of what we might possibly be?
The child continuously struggles with the force. Through constant disappointment, the child keeps trying, keeps hoping. And with failure after failure, "Darth" keeps trying.
Now watch the video, and try and tell me that you can't relate......
Amazing.
It is amazing, right?
We all grew up wanting to do this and do that; wanting to be this and be that. And for a lot of us, we ran into enough obstacles and/or were told "You can't do that" just enough, that we lost hope. And here we are, doing what we do. Maybe we love it. Maybe we don't. But we're doing it.
Sometimes we still run into people that tell us we can't do what we want to do, that we can't be what we want to be.
How much would you give, right now, for a dad with a remote to the car?
Sure, we all know a person can't start a car with "the force." But what if, for one moment, each of us had one person in our lives that would let us believe, that would help us believe, that anything is possible. Anything.
I'm sure a lot of us still yearn for the innocence of our youthful desires. To be a fireman. To be an astronaut. To be a football player. To be a teacher. An author. A scientist. Whatever it might be.
I feel like this commercial encourages all of us, not just the kids or the parents, to be what we want to be. To be who we want to be.
--TheKevin--
Yes, it's "cutesy" in that the child wants to do something seen only in the movies. But we can all relate to that, can't we? Didn't we all grow up with that one true fantasy of what we could be? Of what we might possibly be?
The child continuously struggles with the force. Through constant disappointment, the child keeps trying, keeps hoping. And with failure after failure, "Darth" keeps trying.
Now watch the video, and try and tell me that you can't relate......
Amazing.
It is amazing, right?
We all grew up wanting to do this and do that; wanting to be this and be that. And for a lot of us, we ran into enough obstacles and/or were told "You can't do that" just enough, that we lost hope. And here we are, doing what we do. Maybe we love it. Maybe we don't. But we're doing it.
Sometimes we still run into people that tell us we can't do what we want to do, that we can't be what we want to be.
How much would you give, right now, for a dad with a remote to the car?
Sure, we all know a person can't start a car with "the force." But what if, for one moment, each of us had one person in our lives that would let us believe, that would help us believe, that anything is possible. Anything.
I'm sure a lot of us still yearn for the innocence of our youthful desires. To be a fireman. To be an astronaut. To be a football player. To be a teacher. An author. A scientist. Whatever it might be.
I feel like this commercial encourages all of us, not just the kids or the parents, to be what we want to be. To be who we want to be.
--TheKevin--
Friday, February 4, 2011
Takes and Tokes 2/4/11
Takes and Tokes is a new weekly feature here on Flotsam & Jestsam. This will be a look at what has happened during the week in pop-culture, online, in the world, and whatever else I feel like talking about. This first post will be an abbreviated one, but no less interesting, I guarantee you that.
I give to you a video. It's not just any video. It's wrestling. And at the start, it looks like any other low-budget wrestling match. But at the 13 second mark--yes, just 13 seconds in--it takes a turn for the weird. And then it goes downhill from there. So, without any further delay, here is this week's installment of....
WHAT WERE THEY SMOKING?
You're welcome.
--TheKevin--
I give to you a video. It's not just any video. It's wrestling. And at the start, it looks like any other low-budget wrestling match. But at the 13 second mark--yes, just 13 seconds in--it takes a turn for the weird. And then it goes downhill from there. So, without any further delay, here is this week's installment of....
WHAT WERE THEY SMOKING?
You're welcome.
--TheKevin--
Friday, January 28, 2011
The Depression Cycle: A Quick Synopsis
Depression is a strange beast. It can come around at any time and stay for however long it chooses. There are certain things one can do to try and combat it, but the impending return is always looming over our heads. That, of course, may seem like a self-fulfilling prophecy, but believe me, the last thing any of us want is to be on a down-swing at a most inopportune time. One of the most difficult things about predicting depression is that we never know what it might be that will trigger an episode.
I will use Friday, January 28 as a model for how quickly and violently the depression monster can strike.
9:30 am - Alarm goes off. There's lots to do today and it's going to be gorgeous out, so don't waste it.
11:00 am - Look at my clock and realize that I turned my alarm off and had gone back to sleep. Go back to sleep.
12:30 pm - Wake up. Get out of bed.
1 pm - Finally get dressed and leave the house.
1:30-2 pm - Put money in the bank. Be pleasantly surprised at the resulting balance. Pick up tax forms at the library.
2:15 pm - Go to Subway for a turkey sandwich. Actually order a buffalo chicken sandwich.
2:45-4 pm - Do taxes. Be happy that, after two years of owing hundreds of dollars, I'm getting money back from both Federal and State. Feeling really good about the day and myself.
4:30 pm - Sit around.
5:30 pm - Try to decide if I really want to go out by myself tonight.
5:45 pm - If I stay in my neighborhood, I can walk everywhere, but there's only three places I really like to go. Dink around on the internet.
6:00 pm - If I go downtown, I'll have to drive and pay for parking. But I know a lot more people downtown and there are more places to go. There will also be more opportunity to be ignored by girls. Dink around on the internet.
6:15 pm - Maybe I'll just go to dinner in my neighborhood and come home. But I have a tendency to get depressed when I'm not being social.
6:20 pm - I also have a tendency to get depressed when I go out, spend too much money, and still don't have the kind of "fun" night one might imagine you could have downtown on a Friday night.
6:25 pm - Dink around on the internet.
6:30 pm - I'm really not even that hungry.
7:00 pm - Starting to get hungry. Okay, I'll go out. Maybe I'll just go have a steak at Texas Roadhouse. That way, because it's so far away, I can just go and come back without feeling like I "went out."
7:10 pm - Decide to flip a coin to determine if I'll stay in the neighborhood or go downtown. Heads: Neighborhood, Tails: Downtown. It's heads. I decide to go downtown.
7:30 pm - Head to the bathroom to shower.
Now, this is the point in the story where things really took a turn for the worst. I won't bother with time-stamping it, I'll just go through it all:
-Look in the mirror and hate my goatee. Don't feel like trimming it properly, so I decide that I'll shave it off.
-Shower. Nice and refreshing. All bits and pieces and crevices thoroughly washed.
-End shower. Now that my hair is longer, I use gel in it to help tame the "frizz." But I hate putting on my shirt over my freshly finger-styled hair, so it now becomes a process: dry my torso, deodorize my pits, shirt on, then gel the hair, then shave.
-Screw up the process when, out of habit, I start immediately putting shaving cream on my face. But as any of you who have shaved your face know, the best shave is done on whiskers fresh out of the shower.
-Shave.
-Deodorize and put on shirt.
-Gel hair. Hate how it comes out. My hair is kind of in a "tweener" phase right now, not short enough to lay flat, not long enough to be curly. It's annoying.
-Wet hair.
-Gel hair. Still hate it.
-Decide that I'll just wear a hat. Besides, I look good in a hat. Be pissed at myself because of all the time and gel I just wasted.
-Realize that my chosen wardrobe for the night won't look good with a hat. I'll just wear a sweatshirt, I guess. Which really isn't any different than any other night.
-Realize that tonight, overall, probably won't be any different than any other night. It'll just be more crowded.
-Look in the mirror and realize how fat I've gotten. And I probably shouldn't have shaved off the goatee.
So now you have a glimpse into the mind of a depressive. And I know what some of you might be thinking: "Kevin, your life is never going to change unless you change it. Things will never get better unless you work to make them better."
Yes, I know all that. I spend most of my free time telling myself that. I've been trying to go back to the gym for over a year, now. I've been thinking about re-vamping my wardrobe, but I don't want to do that until I've lost weight. I've been thinking about cleaning my car and my room, but for what? No one is going to come over and stay the night until I lose some weight and get some new clothes and become more desirable. And I don't make it to the gym because I wake up late, then there isn't enough time before work, then I'm too tired after work. Can you see the vicious cycle? Anyone?
Anyone?
--TheKevin--
I will use Friday, January 28 as a model for how quickly and violently the depression monster can strike.
9:30 am - Alarm goes off. There's lots to do today and it's going to be gorgeous out, so don't waste it.
11:00 am - Look at my clock and realize that I turned my alarm off and had gone back to sleep. Go back to sleep.
12:30 pm - Wake up. Get out of bed.
1 pm - Finally get dressed and leave the house.
1:30-2 pm - Put money in the bank. Be pleasantly surprised at the resulting balance. Pick up tax forms at the library.
2:15 pm - Go to Subway for a turkey sandwich. Actually order a buffalo chicken sandwich.
2:45-4 pm - Do taxes. Be happy that, after two years of owing hundreds of dollars, I'm getting money back from both Federal and State. Feeling really good about the day and myself.
4:30 pm - Sit around.
5:30 pm - Try to decide if I really want to go out by myself tonight.
5:45 pm - If I stay in my neighborhood, I can walk everywhere, but there's only three places I really like to go. Dink around on the internet.
6:00 pm - If I go downtown, I'll have to drive and pay for parking. But I know a lot more people downtown and there are more places to go. There will also be more opportunity to be ignored by girls. Dink around on the internet.
6:15 pm - Maybe I'll just go to dinner in my neighborhood and come home. But I have a tendency to get depressed when I'm not being social.
6:20 pm - I also have a tendency to get depressed when I go out, spend too much money, and still don't have the kind of "fun" night one might imagine you could have downtown on a Friday night.
6:25 pm - Dink around on the internet.
6:30 pm - I'm really not even that hungry.
7:00 pm - Starting to get hungry. Okay, I'll go out. Maybe I'll just go have a steak at Texas Roadhouse. That way, because it's so far away, I can just go and come back without feeling like I "went out."
7:10 pm - Decide to flip a coin to determine if I'll stay in the neighborhood or go downtown. Heads: Neighborhood, Tails: Downtown. It's heads. I decide to go downtown.
7:30 pm - Head to the bathroom to shower.
Now, this is the point in the story where things really took a turn for the worst. I won't bother with time-stamping it, I'll just go through it all:
-Look in the mirror and hate my goatee. Don't feel like trimming it properly, so I decide that I'll shave it off.
-Shower. Nice and refreshing. All bits and pieces and crevices thoroughly washed.
-End shower. Now that my hair is longer, I use gel in it to help tame the "frizz." But I hate putting on my shirt over my freshly finger-styled hair, so it now becomes a process: dry my torso, deodorize my pits, shirt on, then gel the hair, then shave.
-Screw up the process when, out of habit, I start immediately putting shaving cream on my face. But as any of you who have shaved your face know, the best shave is done on whiskers fresh out of the shower.
-Shave.
-Deodorize and put on shirt.
-Gel hair. Hate how it comes out. My hair is kind of in a "tweener" phase right now, not short enough to lay flat, not long enough to be curly. It's annoying.
-Wet hair.
-Gel hair. Still hate it.
-Decide that I'll just wear a hat. Besides, I look good in a hat. Be pissed at myself because of all the time and gel I just wasted.
-Realize that my chosen wardrobe for the night won't look good with a hat. I'll just wear a sweatshirt, I guess. Which really isn't any different than any other night.
-Realize that tonight, overall, probably won't be any different than any other night. It'll just be more crowded.
-Look in the mirror and realize how fat I've gotten. And I probably shouldn't have shaved off the goatee.
So now you have a glimpse into the mind of a depressive. And I know what some of you might be thinking: "Kevin, your life is never going to change unless you change it. Things will never get better unless you work to make them better."
Yes, I know all that. I spend most of my free time telling myself that. I've been trying to go back to the gym for over a year, now. I've been thinking about re-vamping my wardrobe, but I don't want to do that until I've lost weight. I've been thinking about cleaning my car and my room, but for what? No one is going to come over and stay the night until I lose some weight and get some new clothes and become more desirable. And I don't make it to the gym because I wake up late, then there isn't enough time before work, then I'm too tired after work. Can you see the vicious cycle? Anyone?
Anyone?
--TheKevin--
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