Wedding March of the Penguins

In the next month, I will be attending two weddings. And not only will I be attending two weddings, I will be part of two wedding parties. Aside from getting to show off how much taller I am than the other groomsmen, there are other perks to this job. I’ll eat a couple of exquisite rehearsal dinners, get introduced before a group of people who will passively clap in my general direction whilst waiting for the actual couple of honor, and I’ll have complete dictatorship-level authoritative control as to where you sit at the ceremony. So be nice, or I’ll have you placed behind the organ.

Oh, and I get to make this look good.

Bridesmaids have to do all sorts of crazy things on behalf of their friend, the bride. Aside from showers, bachelorette parties, and the occasional tea or luncheon, bridesmaids have it way harder as to set their attire for the big day. Sure, the bride may pick out a dress, and you may have to purchase that dress. On top of that, you’re going to need to get your hair done, makeup done, find shoes that fit, find jewelry that matches the dress, not trip on your face if the alterations weren’t done just right, ad hold some flowers. Some heavy, heavy flowers.

Groomsmen rent tuxedos. That’s it.

Now since it’s a fortnight between the two affairs, Chris Nordberg and I are toying with the idea of just renting one tuxedo apiece (rather than two), wearing it for the first wedding and every moment afterwards until the conclusion of the Mellor-Viehweg affair. I think wearing a tuxedo everywhere I go will gain me some newfound respect, from other commuters, the cashier at the cafeteria, and definitely the other guys at the gym. And if anyone needs me to host a banquet at the last minute, I am so freakin’ golden there, too. However, since my two roomies have different tastes in black tie fashion, this plan will likely fizzle before I even get my first “tuxedo overdue” notice from the rental shop.

Speaking of the rental shop…

Both of my former roommates have chosen to organize their respective tux rentals through local shops, tuxerias that are close to the location of the wedding. Since neither location of either wedding is say, Fairfax, Virginia, I would be unable to walk in and take care of business. However, thanks to a convenient system of universal measurement (metric can go to hell), I was told that I could get my measurements taken at a local tuxedo shop of my choosing, and then via the magic of the interwebs, that information can be transferred to the appropriate tailor of their choices.

However, walking into a tuxedo shop and asking for a service when I have zero intention to procure any rental of their wares just doesn’t feel right, you know. I wouldn’t walk into a supermarket and ask them to cut a pound of roast beef when I have no intention of buying, you know, just to see if they could do it. Nor would I ask to use the bathroom of a fancy restaurant if I didn’t have a reservation. It’s just a little…weird.

Nonetheless, it had to be done. Since my usual suit store didn’t comply with my request, I was forced to go the chain of tuxedo shops that I facilitated my wedding party’s rental through. Here’s how it all played out.

Tuxedo Shop Guy: Hi there, how can I help you?
Condon: I need to get measured for a tuxedo rental.
TSG: No problem (pulls out After Hours order form) Ok sir, what is the date of the wedding?
Condon: (realizing it’s not too late to turn back on an elaborate farce) (chooses otherwise) September 15.
TSG: Groom’s name?
Condon: (will have some ‘splaining to do later) Reif.

TSG: Alright then, let’s get those measurements

(takes measurements)

TSG: Ok, let’s see what we have you guys wearing in the computer.

Condon: (Knowing damn well he’s not going to find any Reif in the computer) Sounds good!
TSG: (searches through computer for non-existent information) Ok, I’m having a little trouble…
Condon: That’s weird. (Note: totally not weird. It would be weird if he DID find Reif’s info.)
TSG: Maybe it’s on another date?

Condon: No, I’ve got the right one

TIME OUT: At this point, I’ve got the measurements I need, I didn’t make this guy make a decision as to whether to spend time on a no-sale, and now all I’m looking for is an out. It’s a shame this guy is so damn persistent.

Condon: Here, let me try and call him. I’ll confirm the event date. (calls Condon’s work phone, leaves phony message) He didn’t pick up. I’ll just come back or call when I get the Event ID.

TSG: Sounds good!

Condon: (RUNS AWAY!!!!!!!!!)

QUITE FRANKLY, THIS IS A FILLER POST!

Let’s take a couple of things I’ve been meaning to write about for a few weeks and merge them, shall we?

Thing 1: While I was enjoying some time before the 4th, outside of the Commonwealth of Virginia, I got a voice mail from the Prodigal Roommate outlining a new set of state regulations that detail higher, if not excessive, driving fines here in the Old Dominion. In summary, the following violations have been amended to charge evildoers the following:

• Leaving your license at home: $750
• Speeding 20MPH over the limit: $1,050
• First-time DUI offense: $2,250
• Another 1.5 cents per gallon on this gas tax, just because they can
  

Personally, I have no intention of breaking any of the above laws, but you may. But there’s good news for those of you who read this blog from out of state – THEY DON’T APPLY TO YOU. Only Virginians will feel the wrath. (But if you care to fill up your gas tank while driving 35 in a 15 while drunk and your license flew out of the car just before – God help your soul and wallet.)

Thing 2: Clara has become quite perceptive to her surroundings in recent weeks, an excellent sign that she will have full control of all 5 senses at an early age. (This will no doubt make her wrestle internally as to why she insists on putting her foot in her mouth.) If she’s in the middle of a room, her attention can be captured by a change in lighting, the sound of your voice, the feel of your hand on her back, and the smell of fresh brick-oven pizza (rumored.) A few weeks back I had the NBA Draft on, and my little one was exposed to quite possibly the most engaging sports news personality there is (assuming “engaging” is synonymous with “freakin’ loud”): STEPHEN A. SMITH

Thing 1 and Thing 2, MERGIFIED!

The following is a conversation between Virginia "Governor" Mark Warner and Defender of the People, Philly sports columnist, and ESPN Yelling Head, STEPHEN A. SMITH.

Smith: THANK YOU FOR MEETING WITH ME, GOVERNOR WARNER.
Warner: This is no problem, Stephen. I’m glad to be available for my citizens.
Smith: I DO NOT LIVE IN VIRGINIA, BUT EVERYTHING I SAY IS IMPORTANT.
Warner: And why is that?
Smith: I’M STEPHEN A. SMITH!
Warner: Ok, that doesn’t actually mean anything to me. Let’s start over. I was the governor of Virginia. And we’re here to discuss the new driving laws that became effective July 1.
Smith: QUITE FRANKLY, JOAKIM NOAH IS A TERRIBLE ADDITION TO THE CHICAGO BULLS. I DO BELIEVE THAT BEN WALLACE HAS ENOUGH HAIR FOR ONE PROFESSIONAL NBA FRANCHISE. JOAKIM NOAH BRINGS NOTHING TO THE TABLE, AND THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH DRIVING.
Warner: Ehrm, yes. I can see that. Anyways, we have added these laws to help fund 65 million dollars annually of construction, and we feel the best way to fund this is by making those who abuse our roadways pay the most.
Smith: I LOVE CHEESE DOODLES.
Warner: Huh?
Smith: MR. MARK WARNER, WOULD YOU BELIEVE THAT KOBE WANTS OUT OF LOS ANGELES? IT WOULD ME A DEVASTATING TURN OF EVENTS IF MR. MITCH KUPCHAK WERE TO TRADE THE BEST PLAYER IN THE GAME.
Warner: This is such an ill-advised interview. Why are you yelling?
Smith: THIS IS MY INSIDE VOICE.

Warner: Ok, is there any way we can wrap this out without me punching you in the mouth?
Smith: I AM OF THE OPINION THAT YOUR NEW REGULATIONS ARE A TRAVESTY AND PRESENT AN INJUSTICE TO THE PEOPLE OF VIRGINIA. I SHOULD KNOW SOMETHING ABOUT THE LAW – I PLAYED ONE ON TV. NOW ABOUT THOSE CHEESE DOODLES.
Warner: Quite frankly, this didn’t go as planned.

What a New Jersey Will Do

Two nights ago, the Anaheim Ducks became the 2007 Stanley Cup champions. They defeated the Ottawa Senators 4 games to 2, bringing the Cup to the West Coast for the first time ever and reminding Americans everywhere that aside from the Barenaked Ladies, Canada still kind of blows. Now I don’t care that people aren’t watching the games on TV. As long as hockey continues to be the premier live sport, ticket sales ensure that the league can pay for itself just fine. What I do care about is that incredibly important conversation that occurred 15 years ago in a wealthy partner’s St. Paul law office between a reluctantly philanthropic boss and suspended young hotshot lawyer from the Breakfast Club. Now I could simply type the final cut dialogue from memory for you, as a tribute to Anaheim’s victory, but that wouldn’t do it justice. You see, that scene was originally longer – here’s the script as it was originally intended.

Gordon Bombay: Mr. Ducksworth, there are two reasons I came by. First off, I want to let you know things are going well. I'm learning a lot about teamwork, fair play and all that junk.

Gerald Ducksworth: Good, good. And the second?

Bombay: Well, sir, fair play doesn’t come cheap. These kids, my team, have no money. They can’t afford rink time, safe equipment, proper uniforms – that upstart team down the coast in San Jose – have you seen them? My GOD, they’ve cornered the market on teal unis – I predict big things for teal in the nineties. Now imagine sir, being ten years old and stepping out onto that ice. Your name is Teemu Selanne -

Ducksworth: Teemu Selanne? What the hell is a Teemu Selanne? Sounds like a Jedi Knight.

Bombay: No, he’s a left wing. I traded that ridiculous brother and sister ice dancing duo to his junior club in Finland for him. He’s gonna be great.

Ducksworth: Oh. The Force is strong with this one.

Bombay: Hi-larious. Anyway, the point I’m trying to make, sir, is that you wouldn’t be taken seriously and neither are these kids. I’ve got a goalie, Jean-Sebastian Giguere, that six years from now every one will call him by an annoying Will Smith lyrics, and fail to realize what an upgrade in net he’s been over the fat kid from Philly.

Ducksworth: GOLD-BERG…

Bombay: So, I thought maybe the firm could help ‘em out.

Ducksworth: (sighs) How much are we talking about?

Bombay: $157 million.

Ducksworth: No way.

Bombay: Wait a minute. Think of the goodwill. We name the team after the firm. Suddenly, we’re the good guys. Ducksworth, Saver and Gross – the firm that gives back to professional sports entertainment. And God, how horrible would it be if I went to Saver or Gross with this pitch – could you imagine? The Anaheim Gross? Eech.

Ducksworth: What do you mean, Anaheim?? Why the hell wouldn’t they be hear in Minnesota?

Bombay: Two reasons, sir. First, the Lakers once called Minneapolis their home, and they’ve ended up in Cali – so we’re just bypassing the inevitable and starting fresh in our final arena locale. Second, we’ve got the North Stars. Granted, they’ll move to Texas in a year or two, and we’ll get a new team a decade later, but that’s neither here nor there.

Ducksworth: So you’re a lawyer AND a clairvoyant?

Bombay: Nah, some dude named Desmond told me that in the hallway.

Ducksworth: I don’t know about this…

Bombay: Come on, I’ll get you your own jersey…just like Snoop Dogg…

Once again, congrats to the Anaheim Ducks 6-2 Game 6 win over Ottawa.

Apparently, it’s not worth winning if you can’t win BIG.

Flipping the Scripps

Next week, the Scripps National Spelling Bee will take place, allowing some bookworm kid (not Charlie Brown) to add a nice little crown jewel to their college application by becoming the National Champ. Last year, Katharine Close took home the prize by nailing “ursprache” in the final round. Nice work, Jersey girl.

(In ’93, Geoff Hooper won on “kamikaze.” Must have been a slow year for smart kids.)

This year, like last year, the final will be held live on prime-time network television, and millions will tune in to watch Websterites correctly spell words like euonym, elegiacal, and vivisepulture. (It should be noted that all three of these words have been clinchers for past champions, yet Microsoft Word doesn’t recognize any of them.) However, as fun as it is to see kids in white polo shirts correctly spell stuff, I think it would by much more enjoyable to watch the complete opposite. Without further ado, we give you the 2007 National Spelling Cow.

(While bees are excellent spellers, we assumed that cows righteously suck at it. So they get to be the namesake.)

Proctor: Hello, and welcome to the 2007 National Spelling Cow. For those unfamiliar with our long and storied history, the goal of the Spelling Cow is to crown America’s worst speller. The winner will receive a Webster’s Dictionary, a Speak and Spell, and an actual cow. Thanks to our corporate sponsor, Kraft Foods, for that last one, kids. We have four contestants here in the finals, so let’s just get started, shall we?Our first contestant is Christopher Nordberg. Mr. Nordberg, your word is “BEHAVIOR.”

Nordberg: Behavior. B-E-E-V-I-O-R. Behavior. (DING!)
Proctor: Excellent. Next, we have Mattias Caro. Mattias, your words are “DUMP TRUCK.”
Mattias: Dump Truck. D-U-M-B-T-R-U-C-K. Dump Truck. (DING!)
Proctor: Well done. Our third finalist is Akeelah Anderson. Miss Anderson, your word is “ECCLESIASTES.”
Akeelah: (looking immensely confused) Ok, Ecclesiastes. E-C-C-L-E-S-I-A-S-T-E-S. Ecclesiastes. (HONK!)
Proctor: I’m so sorry, that’s incorrect.
Akeelah: What the f-
Proctor: I’m sorry, you’ll have to leave the stage.
Akeelah: How am I going to explain this to Morpheus (exits)
Proctor: Our final contestant is Captain Jack Sparrow. Captain Sparrow, your word is “SAVVY.”
Sparrow: Savvy, eh? S-A-V-V-E-E- Savvy? (DING!)
Proctor: Correct, well done! Ok, back to you, Chris. Your next word is “CONGLOMERATE.”
Nordberg: Conglomerate. “C-O-N-G-L-O-M-M-E-R-I-T.” Conglomerate. (DING!)
Proctor: Clever, indeed. You pass. Mattias, the word is “TRANSFIGURATION”
Mattias: T-R-A-N-Z-F-E-E-G-BO-BOP-S-H-U-N. (DING!)
Proctor: Splendid! Sparrow, the word is “ARE.”
Sparrow: R…(HONK!)
Proctor: I’m sorry, Captain, that was surprisingly correct.
Sparrow: The only rules that really matter are these: what a man can do and what a man can't do. For instance, you can accept that your father was a good speller or you can't. But spelling is in your blood, boy, so you'll have to square with that some day.
Proctor: What? Eh, whatever. Our final two spellers are Mr. Nordberg and Mr. Caro. Let’s enter the lightning round, shall we?

Nordberg: Eunuch. Y-O-O-N-I-C-K. (ding!)
Caro: Elementary. E-L-E-M-E-N-T-E-R-Y. (ding!)
Nordberg: Maestro. M-Y-S-T-R-O-U-G-H (ding!)
Caro: Akeelah. A-C-K-E-E-L-A-A-A. (ding!)
Nordberg: Fjord. F-BORK. (ding!)
Caro: Greatness. O-V-E-C-H-K-I-N. (ding!)

Proctor: That was some truly horrific spelling right there – well done! Ok, Mr. Nordberg, let’s take this up a notch. Your word is “CURRENCY.”
Nordberg: (sighs.) Ok, you may have just doomed me, but Currency. C-U-R-R-E-N-C-Y. (honk!)
Proctor: I’m sorry, that was accurate. Mr. Caro, for the win, the word remains “CURRENCY.”
Caro: Currency. C-U-faintsandfallstofloor. Currency. (ding!)

Proctor: We have our champ, Mattias A. Caro. Here, have a cow.

The Pilot Program

Coming this summer to a multi-national corporation near you: Chaos!

Our company is currently switching its entire financial mainframe software from one product to another product. They tell us it will allow our company to operate efficiently in a 21st century environment. Personally, I don’t see the need for change. After all, hasn’t 20th Century Fox been responsible for the X-Men series, the Ice Age flicks, Moulin Rouge, Walk the Line, and Devil Wears Prada in the last 7 years, all without an overdue name change?

(What’s that? Oh – Big Momma’s House, too? Ok, nevermind.)

The evolution of technology in business is something that is increasingly important with each new invention and idea that the science dorks come up with. If a CEO is unwilling to innovate and advance, his firm will be left in the dust. (However, if the firm has invented a way to convert dust into printed currency, then that changes the entire business model.) So I am passively for the upgrade to the new software. I figure the powers-that-be will make sure it caters to all the business processes we are currently carry out in the current system, and then we will all be happy people in the new world. However, the view from the flight deck doesn’t look quite that optimistic.

In a company as large as mine, you don’t just shut down one system and turn the other one with the flick of a switch. Without proper testing of the new system, this would be disastrous just about every time it occurs. Therefore, a pilot program is instituted. A pilot program is a program by which a smaller cross-section of a company engages in the new practice. Their success or failure with the new system will allow the installers to have valuable input prior to the full roll-out.

It’s like a pre-planned trainwreck. (Sorry, Sara.)

My department is part of this pilot program. And judging from the meetings we’ve sat through, the new system is anything but ready to implement. Come the pilot program kickoff date of July 1st, things look to be…well…catastrophic.

Thank God this doesn’t involve actual pilots. On second thought…

PILOT: Alright Control, this is the pilot speaking. I wanted to go over some of the features of this new plane before we try and land this thing in Chicago in a half-hour. Would you care to review the diagnostics with me.
CONTROL: Roger.
PILOT: Ok, the first thing that has me a little spooked is this light here that says, “Landing Gear Missing.” Can you confirm that this is a faulty light, and I in fact, have operable landing gear?
CONTROL: That’s a negative. No operable landing gear found.
PILOT: WHAT? The plane I used to fly had landing gear, why doesn’t this one? After all, it’s clearly something that I need on a daily basis. Where is it?
CONTROL: It’s not ready.
PILOT: GUH. Ok, then, we certainly must have some other functionalities that will allow me to safely land this plane. New planes should be more advanced like that. (deep breath) Control, what futuristic modules do I have to land this craft?
CONTROL: Do you see that green lever?
PILOT: Yes, I do. Will that help me land?
CONTROL: Negative.
PILOT: Then why did you point it out? (pulls lever, two pieces of hot toast eject from the dashboard) We have a lever to make toast?? Why?
CONTROL: Pilots sometimes are hungry.
PILOT: AND SOMETIMES PILOTS DIE FROM NO LANDING GEAR.
CONTROL: Negative. Fatality rates are still in beta testing.
PILOT: Ok, calm down Jenkins, you can do this. Control, surely there must be a contingency protocol I can adhere to, correct?
CONTROL: Affirmative.
PILOT: Please relay the contingency protocol.
CONTROL: You see that easel near the jump seat?
PILOT: I do.
CONTROL: It’s a drawing board. Go back there.
PILOT: Sigh.

(Several) Pennies from Heaven

Your team wins the Super Bowl, and you assume you have the run of His Kingdom.

Look, I was a college student once. I know what it’s like to have to work hard for a little spending money on the weekends. I worked at the Dean of Students Office, where the most mentally stimulating thing I got to do was to look through all you student application files (little known fact: Nordberg was a baton twirler in high school) But hey, I made minimum wage, and that paid for pizza on the weekends. What Kevin Russell of Hobart, Indiana did? Well that’s just wrong.

For those too lazy to click through this link, this 21-year old tried to cash a check in the amount of $50,000 at his local bank. And if that’s not suspect enough for you, it turns out that the One who was paying to the order of Kevin Russell was none other than God.

Yep, the old King Savior, King of Kings, Lord of Lords, Servant. And that’s not me just throwing accolades the Almighty’s way. That’s the way God apparently signs his checks. Now Kevin Russell is in jail for check fraud as well as intimidation (I guess faulty funds transfers involving omnipotent deities will get you that charge.)

I’ve heard of televangelists getting rich in the name of the Lord, but college students? That’s a new one. So while Russell awaits a court date, we here at the YABNews desk spent all night praying, and out prayers have been answered. God, thanks for granting us this interview.

God: Not a problem, My child.
Chris: So God, let’s get the facts straight. This WAS a fraudulent check, right?
God: Of course it was. I’ve been known to reward ingenuity in the past – Michaelangelo did such a nice job painting that ceiling that I made sure someone in the future named a Ninja Turtle after him – but monetary payouts? That’s not exactly my style.
Chris: So you’re saying you don’t have a checkbook?
God: Well, of course I have a checkbook. Someone’s got to pay the Sun so it doesn’t cut off our power. But there’s two ways to know if a check from Me is authentic.
Chris: Oh yeah? Do tell.
God: First off, there’s no way I have a savings account at the Chase Bank in Hobart. All of my accounts are kept safely at First Bank of St. Matthew. Once my tax collecting apostle came to Heaven, I had to give him something to do rather than insist to the other guests that they owe tax. For the record, there are no taxes in heaven.
Chris: So what happens on April 15th up there?
God: We have a barbeque luau. Last year we got Mozart to headline.
Chris: And the second check of authenticity?
God: My checks are HUGE. I get them from the same place the Publisher’s Clearing House gets theirs. It’s way more fun that way.
Chris: Of course. I should have known. So Lord, I’m in the market to buy some real estate. Do you have any advice for me?
God: Let me read you a passage from My Biography. (summons his Bible) In Timothy 6, it reads “Surely then, as far as physical things are concerned, it is sufficient for us to keep our bodies fed and clothed.” I say that shelter goes along with that. And while I love all my children, it should be noted that I find apartment complex landlords often use free will to stick it to good, hard-working people. This displeases me.
Chris: That’s what I figured. So what becomes of Kevin Russell, the man who thought he could swindle you out of a cool half mil?
God: There is an old Proverb (28:20 to be exact) that says, “The faithful man will be richly blessed, but one eager to get rich will not go unpunished.”
Chris: Sounds like a dagger to me, Kev.

International Stereotype Theatre

The following events may or may not have transpired late last week between the two military superpowers, Switzerland and Liechtenstein. The source of conflict, as pointed out by Christina Toms, however, is very real and the details can be found here.

(overheard between two Swiss soldiers, marching around midnight)
Hans: Dude, I totally don’t think we’re going the right way. We should have been in St. Gallen an hour ago?
Jakob: Totally. My feet are tired.
Hans: Yeah, mine too. Let’s stop a second. (stops and surveys the area) Hey look, it’s a deli – I could go for a bite. You?
Jakob: Absolutely. Hey, wait! Shshsh! Look at that cheese in the window. Notice anything…odd?
Hans: The complete lack of holes?
Jakob: Exactly. Something’s not right here.

(up above, in the tower of Our Lady of Liechtenstein Church)
Josef: What the? Something’s not right here. Who in the name of Franz Joseph II is that hungry mob? If my calculations are correct, that unruly crew is accounts approximately for 1 out of every 40 people in Liechtenstein. And my mother said I wouldn’t be a mathem- WHOA. They have weapons!!! I better report them. Marco! You need to call the Prince! (Marco is not a co-lookout, but rather, a goat) Damn. It’s times like these I wish we weren’t so hard up on population control. Have to do everything myself.

(at Swiss Military HQ in Zurich)
General Herzog: Hey remember that time when we repelled the Germans in ’45?
Lieutenant Borel: No. But do YOU remember when we airlifted troops to help out against the Soviet Union?
Herzog: Not really. God, why do we even have a military HQ. The biggest aerial attack we have ever launched was when you and I played darts last Tuesday.
Borel: You still owe me chocolate for my win (sees something coming in over the wire). What’s that? The Swiss 1st (and only) Infantry reported missing? Casualties unknown? God, I had no idea.
Herzog: Kind of makes you wish the government had sprung for more than fancy pocketknives for hand-to-hand combat, no?
Borel: God, where could they be?

(at the castle of Liechtenstein’s ruler)
Lowly Page: Your highness, a goat just ran here all the way from, well, across the street. Something’s afoot in the Western Quadrant.
Their Highness: What’s that, Lowly Page?
Page: There’s an angry mob outside Uhlig’s Deli!
Highness: Are they hungry?
Page: Worse. They’re Swiss.
Highness: Neutrality my arse. This is a full scale attack – alert our defenses!!!
Page: All those farmers that own pitchforks??
Highness: Yes. Both of them.

(back in Zurich)
Borel: Look, I feel really bad about beating you in Darts, by the way. I wish there was a way we could have tied or something-
Herzog: Not now! It appears we’ve done something far worse – we’ve invaded Liechtenstein!
Borel: Did you just make up a sovereign state?
Herzog: No! They’re our neighbor – to the east!
Borel: Germany?
Herzog: No, no. Under them?
Borel: Austria?
Herzog: No, in between!
Borel: Really? That’s an independent nation? That area no bigger than Washington DC? Who let that happen?
Herzog: The Treaty of Pressburg in 1806.
Borel: Hmm…we COULD take them, couldn’t we?
Herzog: And ruin our perpetual neutrality? Never! Tell our boys to apologize and to prepare a lovely quiche for the Prince.

Whew. Close one.