“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.” — Marianne Williamson
“I hope you know that this will go down on your permanent record.” — Violent Femmes
The barista asked for my name. I said Charlie. She wrote Chartee. Crossed the t and everything. #Starbucks
Today is the first day of the rest of your life … at least that’s what the matrix wants you to believe.
Before you can suck the marrow out of life … first, you got to get your hands on some marrow.
The streak lives! I have worked out every day this month. Haven’t missed a day.
Me: I think I’m going to put something warmer on.
Rocky: I don’t own clothes.
Me: Socks and shoes sure come in handy on a cold, snowy day like today.
I was driving into work and I thought, ‘what the world needs now is love, sweet love, it’s the only thing that there’s just too little of.’
I’m just kidding; I haven’t left for work yet.
Good Lord, I am full. I am stuffed. I should NOT have had that salad!
Sam’s football coaches yell numerous, sometimes contradictory, helpful hints on each play.
Don’t jump. Watch the ball. Penetrate. Watch the fake. Watch the pass. Etc.
Now I’ve never been a football coach, but I am a bit of an efficiency nut, so I just started yelling:
“Watch for every conceivable possibility!”
“Remember the time Bobby Boucher showed up at halftime and the Mud Dogs won the Bourbon Bowl?” — The Waterboy
Got on the stair machine tonight … 220 floors in 46 minutes … 76 steps/min.
Almost barfed up the Fritos I ate … in the car … on the drive … to the Y.
Last night Sam and I were watching, Say Anything, one of my favorite movies. For 25 years I’ve always wishfully thought of myself as Lloyd Dobler. But last night I had a dreadful realization … I’ve become James Court. I’m a little depressed right now.
I’m eating an apple, then I’m hitting the hay. That’s my “status.”
While my neighbors’ yards are lush, green and manicured, my yard is blonde, devoid of any semblance to grass and devoid of any moisture. My yard is more straw than grass.
Someone should probably be taking care of it.
I’m at the Petco with Gina and Carli in line to get the dogs some shots. This woman explains that the heartworm test checks for hookworms, roundworms and tapeworms.
Naturally, I have to ask, like a goofy David Letterman, “Does it also look for them fishin’ worms?”
I get a stunned look. And I say, “I’m sorry. Nevermind.” She leaves.
Gina says, “Dad, she was talking to you about our dogs’ health and you interrupted her … (she begins imitating me) … Does it cover fishin’ worms?” (When she imitates me, I sound really stupid.)
I started laughing so hard I couldn’t stop, tears pouring out my eyes, but I have to get it together; the woman returns with our order.
As she leaves, Gina looking puzzled, imitates me again, saying, “So it DOESN’T cover fishin’ worms?”
I’m standing in line to board my plane to Orlando and the United lady says, “Okay fives … fives you can board.”
And I think, ‘When do the 10s get to board?’*
*Joke borrowed from 30 Rock
Heading to Chicago. Sadly, I had to toss a brand-new tube of toothpaste at security. My fault. My explanation that the toothpaste is a WMD … on plaque … got me nowhere.
Happy to be back in colorful Colorado … where the beer flows like wine.
My kids are so special. For Fathers Day, Sam and Carli are taking me out for margaritas. They really love me.
Going to see ‘The Goat’ at the Springs Ensemble Theatre … it’s supposed to be strange, unsettling, uncomfortable, humorous, heartbreaking and horrifying, according to one person.
I’m already uncomfortable after eating that meatball sub at Firehouse.
Tonight as I stepped out of my office, I was hit with a serious gale force, Wizard-of-Oz-in-black-and-white wind and pelts of rain, before I even got on my bike. On the ride home, it was stormy, cloudy, ugly, windy and rainy. I even saw some lightning strikes.
For a while there I was worried about seeing some flash flooding … in my pants.
“You know who looks good in a beard? Dumbledore. Not you.” — Walter Mitty
My belly is full of Dinty Moore beef stew. There is nothing quite like getting in the kitchen, rolling up your sleeves and preparing a home-cooked meal.
I’m at Starbucks this morning and I said, “I have my treat receipt from yesterday and it is technically after 2 p.m., so … ”
Dude just asked me if they had brought me my flatbread pizza. I looked around my empty table for a moment and then replied in a loud voice, “Yes, I’m sitting on it.”
Are you like me when you go out on the road? I start out all oatmeal and salads and plans of working out … but then I end up eating Carl Jr. in my car, chewing on the wrapping paper on a double cheeseburger while driving in the dark down a lonesome highway at half-past midnight.
So I was at Whole Foods getting some go-go juice, when the hipster hottie cashier asks me, “Is that a Harry Potter hat?”
I immediately assume that she asks because she thinks the hat is totally awesome.
But then I correct her saying, “Actually, it’s a Hogwarts’ hat.”
In that moment, I realized that she thought I was a loser; I had just confirmed her suspicions.
I’m in the back of the workout room at the Y on a spin bike. I look up and see Fox News. Sean Hannity is interviewing someone with a beard.
“Duck Dynasty’s Phil Robertson on the rise of radical Islam,” it says. I laughed loudly; people on various machines turn around to look at me. I’m thinking, who cares what this guy has to say?
This morning I see that both Time magazine and the Washington Post have reported on the interview.
Mighty proud of my journalism degree right now.
I returned the movie, ‘Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy,’ to Netflix this weekend. I’ve had it since March 2013. Never watched it.
I was bragging to our coach about how I’ve had a salad at every single lunch and dinner on this trip.
When the doctor chimes in, “I don’t think it counts when you put French fries on your salad.”
I replied heatedly, “It most certainly does too count!”
We have a motion-sensor light in the garage. When I go into the garage, I say, “On,” with a commanding tone because I like to pretend the light is actually voice-activated.
A group of six little kids are at the door. The little kid in back is wearing a jersey. “Dallas Cowboys?” He smiles and nods. “I don’t like the Cowboys.” He’s only five, so I add, “but I like you.” One-by-one the kids come to the door, the little boy with the jersey is last. He might be four.
I see that he’s wearing #94 and say, “You’re DeMarcus Ware, aren’t you?” He smiles and nods again.
“You get extra candy.”
“This is what believe to be true. This is what I learned at the hospital. You have to do everything you can, you have to work your hardest, and if you do, if you stay positive, you have a shot at a silver lining.” — Silver Linings Playbook
I voted. It took five minutes. Here’s how it went down. In the polling place, I found a sign that said, “Voters Start Here.” I got in that line. Not too many people in that line, in fact, I was next.
I said to the person next to me, “What’s that line over there for? There were about 25-30 people in line. He said, “They’re in line to register to vote.”
I thought, “I’m already registered to vote.”
So I went to the counter, gave the guy my driver’s license and said, “Am I supposed to go in that line?” And he said, “Noooooo.” Just like that. Thirty seconds later I’m about to vote, when someone asked me, “How did you get through that line so fast, we’ve been here for about an hour?”
“Just lucky I guess.”
Thirty seconds later, the voting volunteer asked, “Okay, who’s next?”
A man had just finished voting. It was the same man I spoke to about the line. He said, “The guy who just butted in front of the entire line.”
He meant me.
I’m reading the book, “Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking.” I’m only about a third of the way through, but here is the take away so far: introverts are quiet, thoughtful, creative geniuses and extroverts are soulless, empty-headed, loud-mouthed losers.
I did not know that.
Checking in at the doctor’s office … ‘Have you recently been to West Africa or come in contact with the Ebola virus?’
‘No, but I was recently in northern Italy where I came in contact with a bowl of pasta.’
“No matter what … a man can change his stars.” — A Knight’s Tale
Waitress warning me about my mimosa: ‘Now be careful … you can eat that pineapple, but remember it’s been soaking in vodka for the last three weeks.’
Me: ‘That’s okay, so have I.’
HAPPY NEW YEAR!