Just 33 shopping days!

I was walking through my local CVS yesterday when I realized that the holiday season, for better or worse, has officially begun. The aisles were adorned with all sorts of Christmas products, from stockings to nutcrackers to those Chocolate oranges they only seem to sell two months out of the year. I was looking at Charlie Brown Christmas figurines when I ran across this little item:



His name is "Chrismouse", he's part of a holiday line called "Rappin Rodentz", and when you squeeze his hand, he raps "Crank Dat". Happy Birthday, Jesus.

Running with the Eagles

So a few weeks ago I decided to enter the Edison High School “Run with the Eagles” 5k run/walk. I say “a few weeks ago”, but I decided many years ago to someday run a 5k. As you may recall, I put it on my 2007 list of things to do, along with the caveat that I do the running man across the finish line. Anyway, in true DIOSU¹ spirit, I finally decided to sign up and participate.

To prepare for the race, I developed my patented three-part recipe for 5k success.

1. Go on the internet and look up how far a 5k is
2. Run on a treadmill a few times the week before the race.
3. Don’t oversleep the day of the race.

Once I completed the first two steps, I decided it would be good to have a target time in mind. My goal was complete the race in less than 33 minutes, with anything under that achieving “pleasant surprise” status. That’s pretty good, right? About ten minutes every mile? That’s what I thought for about two days, when my father sent me an email. He’d done a 5k the year before, and finished in just over 31 minutes. Well dang. I had to drop my target goal to 30 minutes flat, or risk being laughed out of the family.

Since this was my first 5k, I could hardly sleep the night before. I mistook my ringing cell phone for my alarm at 1:30am, and started getting dressed before I realized I was a bit too early. Also disturbing my pre-race sleep was a pair of two of the more unusual dreams I’ve had in a good long while. The first (Vladmir Putin announced his hatred for the USA before pouring ricin on my law firm’s head coordinator) woke me up at around 3:30. The second (I ran the 5k for about a mile before deciding to just run home, drive back up to the school, get out of my car, and run across the finish line ahead of everybody) woke me up around 6:00.

At 7:00, I woke up for real, got dressed and ready to go. The race started at 8am, and my never-early-for-anything ass showed up at about 7:48. As I parked my car and walked to the registration table, guess who rolled up in his police car? That’s right, people who went to Edison when I did, Officer Smith! If you don’t know who Officer Smith is, he’s a friendly cop/school security guy who looks a lot like Antonio Fargas. If you don’t know who Antonio Fargas is, he was Huggybear in the original “Starsky & Hutch”, as well as Flyguy in “I’m gonna git you, Sucka!”. If you don’t know either of those guys, then I can’t help you. Anyway, he rolls up and asks me what’s going on. I tell him about the race, he asks if you can sign up right then, and then we bid each other adieu. Nice guy, that Officer Smith.

(Basically him in a cop uniform)

Since I was so late, I stretched a little while I signed up, and was still fastening my race number to my shirt when the gun went off. About thirty seconds in, I had to stop to tie my shoes, adding two new parts to my recipe for 5k success:

4. Tie your shoes before the race.
5. Don’t stop running.

Running is not inherently interesting to describe, so I’ll summarize it quickly: I ran, checked my pace with my brand new fancy watch ($9.99 at CVS), and ran some more. I passed my street and thought about trying that car scheme I hatched up a few hours ago. I passed McDonalds, thought about stopping for a McGriddle, and then realized the only times I’d ever had one where when I’d literally been up all night and went to McDonalds with my drunk friends as soon as it opened that next morning. I thought about songs I should write. I thought about people I hadn’t spoken to lately. I thought about the lacrosse game I had later that day, and how sometime during the game, my hamstring was going to fall off my leg like a baby back rib. After I reached the library by Rose Hill Apartments (sorry to our out-of-town readers), I turned around to begin the trip back to Edison. And who did I see running about 30 seconds behind me? Officer Smith, clad in head-to-toe spandex. Two things immediately came to mind:

1. He just travels with head-to-toe spandex?
2. Didn’t he just abandon his post?

At around the two mile mark, a little girl shot right by me, which struck me as bullshit. First of all because she was running like little kids dance: hopping around all flat-footed and flailing her elbows as if imitating a chicken. Second, how does a little kid pay attention for the duration of a three mile race? When I was that age (I’m guessing 8), I would’ve run for about half a mile before chasing a squirrel and/or ending up in a tree somewhere. And as that annoying girl vanished into the horizon, guess who passed me? That’s right, my old pal Officer Smith. That man was making excellent time, especially for someone who woke up that day with no knowledge of the race. Good for him.

When I returned to Edison High, I was exhausted. Three-quarters of the track was all that remained. That little girl was probably eating orange slices and spinning around in circles somewhere, and that son of a bitch Officer Smith was rapidly widening the gap between us. My competitive nature had forced me to forget all about my running man plans for the end of the race, and my new goal was just beating Officer Smith. I broke into a full sprint. Smith, unaware we were in any direct competition, continued his regular pace. We finished the final straightaway, and I waited for the results. My time? 24:54. His? 24:53. That’s right, he beat me by one second. Sure it was tough to lose to a guy who’s just a little over twice my age, but the spandex thing makes me think (hope) he does a lot of distance running.

I originally planned to never run a 5k again, but now that some time has passed, I’ll probably run a few more. In fact, let’s already put it out there. Officer Smith, if you’re reading this (and I assume you are), I want a rematch. Edison High School: 2009. Give me more than a week to prepare this time, and I guarantee I’ll beat you. That’s right, Flyguy: next year, I’m gonna get you, sucka. Oh mama, that was terrible.

¹ My personal slogan: Do it or Shut Up.

2:30 am on a monday

2:30 am on a Monday has some fascinating television. I’m flipping between Jerry Springer’s security guy’s talk show, a VH1 dating show, a cop movie starring Ja Rule, and Ghostbusters 2, the latter of the four inspiring me to throw some more creative resources behind writing a screenplay I’m 97% sure I will abandon in the near future. Anyway, I just saw a commercial for Afrin nasal spray. Somebody with a giant teddy bear head and a woman’s body is walking down the street. The narrator goes on about “Is this how you feel? All stuffed up?” and what not. When the bear-lady stops at the intersection, she shoots up some nasal spray and her head returns to normal. When this happens, a little something catches my eye: the fine print in the corner says “dramatization”. Hmm. Really? So, Afrin doesn’t turn my teddy bear head back to a human head? Or it just doesn’t do it that quickly? Exactly what liability are they freeing themselves from with that disclaimer?

Regardless, all this Ghostbusters 2 watching and what not has stopped me from actually finishing what I planned on posting here tonight. So here’s the deal: I’ll put something up here by/before Friday.

Now it’s 2:40. You ever watch television, change channels during a commercial, and then forget what you were originally watching? That just happened to me. Then I found out I’d been watching “Real Chance of Love”. Then I got really depressed. I’m going to bed.