Cat on a Blog Tin Roof

Thank you, Washington Post.

Over the weekend, when you could have put a picture of anything you wanted on the front page of your Sunday paper, from Condoleeza Rice to the Super Bowl to the Pope, but NO, you decided to get all "warm and fuzzy" on me. Now normally, that'd be okay for two reasons. First, the world today could definitely use some more warm and fuzzy, and secondly, what the WP chooses to run on the front page doesn't normally affect me as I am not a subscriber. However, the stars aligned a few days ago and while sitting and relaxing at the Casa de Pretz, good old Page A1 was sitting there on the table before me. Katie was also quick to notice the headline and accompanying graphic. And as a result, it has become alarmingly clear what will be our first major disagreement upon marriage this coming August:

Can we get a cheetah?

Yep, you read that right. This is the debate I will be forced to engage in, courtesy of the Washington Post. Up until this point, I was pretty indifferent on the Post as a daily periodical. The news reporting is standard, it does a nice job with its restaurant review coverage, and movie critic Stephen Hunter has an unfortunate taste in movies. (He hates them.) Now the Post's online version didn't have the picture I need, so for your reference, please take a look at this link to CNN's coverage.

Go ahead, I'll wait.

If you're too busy (which is probably untrue if you visit YAB) to read the article, there's not much else you need to know than the National Zoo in Washington now has their very first litter of baby cheetahs. Oh, you also need to know that Katie wants one. As a pet. 'Cause they're cute. And when it comes to evaluating on whether or not to have a baby cheetah as a domesticated animal, I am finding it's really, really hard to argue with "But they're so cute!" How do you defend against that? You know they're so cute, you've seen the picture yourself. Regardless of what logical points you can make on this issue, they're still going to be so cute. Which is exactly why I know this is going to be much bigger than Toaster vs. Toaster Oven.

But unless I want a giant desert cat waiting for me when I get home from work a year from now, I'm going to have to try and out up a fight (with Katie. Not the cheetah.) Here are the reasons I've come up with not have one of the Zoo's new baby cheetahs as a pet.

Number 1 - Snuggling Issue. The article says that baby cheetahs like to snuggle. Since neither Katie nor I may be up for such a task, the only way to get around this is to get two baby cheetahs. Yes, I know, twice as cute, whatever. But having two baby cheetahs will be even crazier.

Number 2 - Baby Cheetah Speed issue. Baby cheetahs, while only three months old, can already run 30-40 miles per hour. That's fine, I guess, except when you couple it with the fact that at three months old, they haven't prefected the skill of stopping. This doesn't bode well for many things in our future residence, namely anything that doesn't float in mid-air. (Of course, as a Mighty Ducks 2 homage, I would get to name the cheetah Mendoza. No brakes, coach!)

Number 3 - Feeding the Baby Cheetah Issue. A cheetah is like any other cat, so I'm guessing that we need to have a ready supply of milk on hand. And since neither of us are big milk drinkers, this would be one more thing to remember to get at the grocery store. Forgetting to pick up some more Kleenex is one thing. Forgetting to pick up a drink for your personal mountain feline is another. Also, I've have seen on television that cheetahs like to eat Cheetos. Chester told me, and he seems like a reputable source. Can we really deal with that orange powdered cheese getting everywhere? No way.

Number 4 - Growing Up Issue. This really should be the nail in the coffin to this entire debate. A baby cheetah will not be a baby forever. He'll grow out of that adorable picture-perfect appearance that graces the Post, and after a year or so, he'll be nearly full-grown. That will leave us with one giant, not so cute, mean cheetah. Oh, not to mention once the baby fuzz is gone, he won't match any of the rest of the decor. Animal prints? Yikes. So, like I said, this should end the conversation right here and now.

But they're so cute.

Yep, not winning this one.

Commercial Success

2.4 million dollars.

That's what it cost advertisers this year for Super Bowl XXXIX. Now if I were them, I would have just bought a house, given it to the editor of You're a Blog, in exchange for a simple promise to use their product for life. In addition, I'd probably throw their logo up somewhere on the page, so that anyone who takes me seriously in my daily writing would act like sheep and also use the product. I'm telling you Quiznos, this would have been a lot better for you guys. I'm an untapped resource. (Right now, the writer of Nordblog is cursing the day, knowing that heeeere's another marketing blog. Oh, snap!)

Here is the First Annual Awards for the Super Bowl Commercial Offering, or for short, the Commies. (Any resemblance to a fallen economic and political system is unintentional and completely coincidental.) Rather that doing individual categories, as research shows that Commies do not favor individualism, awards will be handed out in the form of an all-encompassing list. The Top 10 Super Bowl Commercials for 2005, in the consensus opinion of all of us here at YAB, (Just Condon), are as follows.

Top 10 Commies, 2005

1. Bud Light - Skydiving - It was early, but I think it carried the crown all the way through the game. The pilot was completely unexpected, and this commercial is exactly what I want out of a Super Bowl ad. It brought the funny.
2. Anheuser-Busch - Standing Ovation - This is exactly what I didn't expect out of a Super Bowl commercial. I don't care that A-B put their logo at the end. A lot of critics had said this was a cheap ploy to tug at America's heartstrings. Hey, they just bought a $2.4 million thank you card. They're allowed to sign it. Thanks, troops.
3. Ameriquest - Romantic Dinner - Shock value pays off big time in this one. The product tie-in is solid, especially for a company that does not sell spaghetti sauce, cutlery, or felines.
4. NFL Network - This is the second incarnation of everyone in the NFL not wearing an Eagles or Patriots jersey singing a rousing rendition of "Tomorrow." I loved this idea last year, and am glad to see it back. On a side note, Warren Sapp will not be singing at our wedding. That boy could scare paint off a wall.
5. FedExKinkos - Burt Reynolds - There were ten reasons to like this commercial and their introspective look into market research. The best ones: Pop Song, Groin Kick, and Dancing Animal.
6. Paramount Pictures - War of the Worlds - The best Super Bowl teaser trailer since Independence Day. Just jumped to my #1 Most Anticipated Summer Flick. (Sorry, Lucasfilms.)
7. CareerBuilder.com - Monkey Office - Ths first one, people were laughing too hard for me to hear. So, the second one, with the whoopie cushion, makes the list here at 7. The best part about this series was the guy's demeanor. I haven't seen anyone that dejected and apathetic since Nordberg worked at AT&T.
8. MasterCard - Over for Dinner - Man, I missed some of these guys. Especially the Starkist Tuna and the Vlasic stork. This was classic advertising, and Mastercard's Priceless campaign is one of the best of the last twn years. Oh, and the Mr. Clean part was a nice touch.
9. Nationwide - Foreclosure - This is the MC Hammer commercial that actually made sense. Sorry, Frito-Lay, you just got served. I'm so glad he's back in the spotlight. And not by stooping down to the Surreal Life. Why aren't more people talking about this?
10. Pepsi - ITunes - The singing Pepsi bottles, sans Gwen Stefani. Makes the list at the tail-end solely thanks to the scene where the garage band knocks over the bottle and the music skips like a busted CD. Turned a boring idea into a novel one.
11. Joseph Stalin.

No Regrets

"I'm sorry, man."

The number of times co-workers have walked by my desk this morning and uttered these three simple words of consulation is uncountable, and as for reasoning for said uttering, I can't be exactly sure. Apologies are for those with reason, and for the life of me, I cannot find any reason for people to be paying their heartfelt respects to me. It's not like I'm wearing an ugly tie. If I were, I'd be the one apologizing, not them.

After casting aside a laundry list of possible motives for coworker apologetics, I'm left with only the result of Super Bowl XXXIX, where the Philadelphia Eagles fell victim to the New England Patriot Dynasty, by a slim three point margin. I watched the game, in the good company of friends and food, and from my personal football watching experience, and I saw everything from kick-off to the final Rodney Harrison interception. Granted, it was not the end result that I would have preferred, but I'm sure not sorry about the Pats' lifting their third trophy in four years. Sorry? For what?

As we close the book on another season of the National Football League, I have no regrets. And Eagles fans, neither should you.

I'm not sorry. I'm not sorry that the Eagles got over the hump of the NFC Championship Game and made it to only their second Super Bowl in my lifetime. I'm not sorry that Terrell Owens can put all of his money where his mouth is and scorched the New England secondary for 9 catches for 122 yards. I'm not sorry that Brian Westbrook is quickly becoming the one of the most dangerous receiving backs in the NFL. I'm not sorry that Andy Reid's crackpot coaching move of benching his starters for the last two games of the season paid off big time with wins over Atlanta and Minnesota. I'm not sorry that Jeff Thomason just got the story of a lifetime to tell his grandkids when he gets old. I'm not sorry that the Eagles have wonderful, vibrant personalities on their team like Donovan McNabb, Brian Dawkins, and Dhani Jones, and even if they did fall short, they give the best fans in the United States hope each and every season.

We may not have won the Super Bowl, but hey, we were there. You hear that, Redskin fans?

I pick on this faithful crew primarily because I have geographically staked my flag in that enemy territory. Wearing an Eagles hat to class on Saturdays may draw the ire of the local home team fanbase, but I'm not sorry about that either. I just got to watch the Super Bowl with the team I know every player and number for, from Keith Adams to Dexter Wynn, and DC did not. And go ahead, remind me that you have three Vince Lombardi trophies in the case, and I'll remind you that you only had two wins for each trophy you have in 2004. Oh, and you lost to Cleveland.

Resting on your laurels is great. See "Great Britain, 1776" for other example.

You're a Blog, a proud sponsor of the Philadelphia Eagles, would like to congratulate the New England Patriots on their victory in Super Bowl XXXIX. What a classy organization.

As for Eagles Nation, let's here one more time...

"Fly, Eagles, Fly!
On the road to victory!
Fly, Eagles, Fly!
Score a touchdown, one, two three!
Hit 'em low, hit 'em high,
And we'll watch our Eagles Fly!
Fly, Eagles, Fly!
On the road to victory!
E-A-G-L-E-S EAGLES!!!

Pay Attention to Me!

A Public Service Essay by Chris Condon

This post's title, in a nutshell, is what a highlighter's mission statement is. You call in a highlighter to do what normal ink cannot: separate the important and newsworthy from the run of the mill, mundane scribbles that grace your paper. Even the best writers know that only a very small percentage of what makes it to the notebook is worthy of recognition. This is why we do not use the highlighter to scribe our thoughts outright. For those who think so highly of themselves to attempt such a feat, they are left with a colorful, unintelligble paper scrap that serves no better purpose than refrigerator art. So now that you know not to write in highlighter, let's also try and allow you to avoid another common trap.

In my sophomore year Comparative Politics class (that's GOVT 203 for all you aspiring PolySci majors out there), there was a girl who sat on the far right by the wall. Dave, who served as my wingman for that class, was very quick to notice that this girl did not subscribe to our brand of note-taking methodology. While Dave and I wrote down only the important in our notebooks, while saving ample margin space to sketch absurdist humor and silliness, this girl, whose known first name was Wendy, insisted on setting her pen to Mach 3 and transcribing every thing that came out of Professor Baxter's mouth. (Wait, there's more!) And after getting it all down in blue ink, she would instantly switched gears and paint her paper with a furious flurry of electric green and fluorescent yellow. Trust me, her notebook looked like the child of SpongeBob and the Kellogg Smacks Frog. And Wendy Highlighter was never heard from again.

The reason we spend this afternoon on the highlighting topic is not because of any problem or bone to pick with the writing utensil in question. It serves as the Issue du Jour only because of my frequent use to get me through the final two weeks of Fiscal Year End. (FY05...it's faaaaaaaaan-tastic.) It seems that highlighters also have a way of multiplying. Like any other cubicle dweller, my desk attempts to maintain some semblance of order. One such order-taker is a cup used to hold all the pens and pencils to my name. When I'm finished with my Pepermate Flexgrip or my Dixon Ticonderoga, I'm pretty good and returning them to their proper home. I wish the same were true for highlighters. They're everywhere.

Unless you're bored and in 3rd grade, you will never use more than 1 highlighter at a time. Sure, different colors may means different things, but the whole hand-gripping-pen-to-transfer-ink-to-paper system only works well with one highlighter in hand. When I asked our staff assistant to order me a highlighter back in October, I assumed I would become the soon-proud owner of a standard yellow, no frills, no friends.

Wrong, Condon.

Yep, I've got a six pack. A whole array of colors to choose from to emphasize words and phrases. And upon further inspection, I think each of the six colors serve a specific purpose. And since it just so happens I'm in the "Write down random stuff and call it a Blog" business, I thought I'd share.

YELLOW is classic. It's a great contrast on white, and it's the first color an editor will look for. Always reliable, that yellow. It's the E.R. of the set. Solid results every week.

ORANGE is the edgy, more noticeable alternative to the yellow. I often use orange when I want to highlight something that a reader my find alarming. For example, if I had to include the line "For the Super Bowl, Chris Berman intends to wear a suit Michael Irvin picked out," that's got orange coming to it.

GREEN is what I use to draw attention to things that make me happy. It's the anti-orange.

PINK is, um, well, the color I use to, um, well, keep the red pen and the scissors company in the utensil holder. Never. Been. Used.

PURPLE has never been used here at the C.A.O.'s desk, if for no other reason than a photocopy will turn the important into unreadable blackmarks. Count on purple if you want to give the off the mystique that all of your writings are classified.

BLUE is the best invisible ink I know. Like whiting-out something you wrote on the chalkboard. Brilliant.

Indecent Proposal

"I've got some good news and I've got some bad news..."

And from the YABNews Education Desk, today we bring you this ground-breaking study on how to deal with the nefarious question listed above. Educating our readers is of supreme importance here at You're a Blog, whether it be about the Important of Being Ig to Canadian propaganda. However, while some past topics have been for show, or at least for laughs, the following is no laughing matter. We're just trying to save you from getting Suckerpunched by Doom.

("Suckerpunched by Doom", copyright You're a Blog Incorporated, 2005.)

When someone approaches you with both good news and bad, you may feel optimistic. Don't. Anyone who knows me (and probably even some who only know me through my writing) knows that I'm a textbook optimist. My analysis of a problem contains a healthy dose of the idealistic bright side, and anything that goes wrong is most likely turned into an opportunity for change and for better things to come. It's hard to stop my positive thinking ways. Hell, that glass isn't half empty or half full. It's just water on its way to achieving uncharted heights. So if you see this the blogineer warning you about something because of its perceived unfavorable outcome, I'd grab on to your chair and hang on for dear life. This has got to be trouble. Prepare to get leveled.

"I've got some good news and I've got some bad news..."

Like I said, when you are approached with some good news and some bad news, this is NEVER good. It's being backed into a corner by someone with no interest of providing the clever James Bond escape route from a doomed situation. The reason is this: no matter how good the good news may be, the bad is ALWAYS worse. My theory is that with both good news and bad news, the effect of the bad news will ALWAYS outweigh that of the good. It's all in the delivery

Moving from general to specifics may help. Let's say a guy, we'll call him Skinny Arms, comes into your office while you sit there quietly working (or reading Condon's blog), and says, "Well, I've got some good news and some bad news." If he had something to say that would allow you to leave the exchange feeling good, he would have just told you he has some good news. If there was a small drawback to the good feeling, he would mention it in passing, and not give it its own billing alongside the good news. Example:

"Hey Chris, good news! Skinny Arms is here to tell you have won a new car! It's a brand new shiny black convertible! It's got a CD player, GPS system, a DVD player in the headrest, but no cupholders! How excited are you??!?"

You see, there was both good news and bad news there, but the good far outweighed the bad. I mean, man, I sure like me a reliable cupholder, but who cares? I've got a brand new car courtesy of Skinny Arms!

But this is not the case with our little proposal from Skinny Arms standing there in front of your desk, now looking bored while you read this explanation. He said that he has good news and bad news for you. He let you know right out front that there's bad news on the way. Why? Because there's no way that the good news is so good that the bad will not have a major impact. If there was, the bad news would be promoted as the unmentioned undercard to the good news. Here's what happens to the news when both good and bad are put on an equal plane.

"Well Chris, I've got some good news and bad news. Skinny Arms is here to tell you have won a new car! It's a brand new shiny black convertible! It's got a CD player, GPS system, a DVD player in the headrest! But the bad news is it's in the Himalaya Mountains, and to claim it you have to go pick it up in person. How excited are you??!?"

Answer: Not Excited at All. Like a smash Alanis Morrisette song, this scenario leaves you on the edge of feeling good, only to push you off the cliff of false hope. You see, the fact that bad news is coming, you should know better not to get excited about the car in the first place, because the bad news is going to smack you down. It's that big a deal.

Using this premise, no wait, law, as a mindset, let's explore the question that often follows the good news-bad news announcement. "Which would you like first?" There's two options here, door number one and door number two. It's just a shame that you know that behind both doors stands depression.

A. Ask for the good news first. Find out something that seems promising in such a fashion that your day is going to improve. Then, watch that something get followed up with something that makes Coldplay's "Yellow" seem like something the Care Bears would sing.

"Well, Watkins, the good news is that your pay check will have twice the amount of money that you are used to! The bad news is that it's actually your severance package. You're so fired."

B. Ask for the bad news first. Figure that you're going to be slammed anyway, so wouldn't it be nice to end the conversation on a happy note. Problem here is that this good news will NEVER overcome the first bomb that got dropped.

"Listen here, Harris, we're letting you go as of 5 o'clock today. But don't worry about returning your parking pass, that's yours to keep! We're changing the design Monday!"

My choice:
C. Be aware that the bad news will smoke the good news. Run from the conversation screaming. End of story.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh!"