Tag Archives: beer

Anniversary Time

It didn’t seem like that big of a decision.

Sitting around with a couple of dudes in the Phi Delta Theta fraternity on the University of Florida campus in Gainesville, FL, during my original senior year in 1986, I decided it was about time I went to Jacksonville to enjoy my first Florida-Georgia football game.

I wanted to enjoy the World’s Largest Outdoor Cocktail Party* and see if a football game did, indeed, break out as had been rumored.**

Besides, I’d had a good time the night before at a fraternity social with the ladies of Kappa Alpha Theta, met some nice gals and laughed a lot.

So my brothers and I headed out to Jacksonville. We got there and decided to hit a bar, have some fun, drink some beer and get into the mood of the party.

Which would have been a good idea if anyone in my group had ever been to Jacksonville before while also also being sober. We got lost. Really, really lost. Which meant we had to drive around for a long time (this was before cell phones) before finally arriving at the bar near closing time.

While there, I ran into one of the ladies I met the night before. She was cute. She was funny. She knew how to have fun. And she wanted to hang out with me. She asked me to go with her to a Theta social in a couple of weeks. I said yes. We agreed to talk more in the meantime and then parted.

Over the course of the weekend, we accidentally saw each other two more times. The second time, we ended up walking on the beach for the night, enjoying the sunrise together. She then put her head in my lap and fell deeply asleep, snoring loud enough to wake the others passed out on the other couches.

We met nearly three decades ago, but today is the day we celebrate our 24th year of marriage. There are times when it seems like 24 seconds and times when it seems like 24 centuries.

A series of coincidences, a nudge from the universe here and there, a helpful bit of directions from a nosy friend and. . . twenty-eight years later, I’m still hearing that snoring every single night. Still seeing that smile. Still hearing that laugh. Still feeling the love.

Today is a good day and I plan on enjoying it.

 

Footnotes & Eratta

* That’s the unofficial nickname for the game and it’s one that both school administrations hate because they are (putting on serious stentorian voice) “serious research institutions.” (voice off) I say unofficial because most of the students don’t call it that. They call it “blargaherhiiaen chiehlhauile.” Apropos of nothing, did you know drinking a lot of alcohol inhibits your ability to enunciate properly?
** It did. Florida won 31-19, but I had no idea. I had to look it up, mostly because more important stuff happened. Not that I was too drunk to remember.

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St. Patrick’s Day Blur

I’m blurring, dudes.

Although, I realize that by saying that today, I might be giving the wrong impression. You might think I’m out downing copious amounts of green beer, talking in an appallingly bad Irish accent and wearing far too much green.

And, yes, it’s true. And I didn’t even know it was St. Patrick’s Day today.

But the blur to which I’m referring is what you’re going to see when I

Not Me, nor Hyper Lad. Promise.
Not Me, nor Hyper Lad. Promise.

blow past you on the slopes.

Hyper Lad and I are on our own up on the mountains, trying out East Coast snowboarding. My wife, known as She Who Must Be Hopping Mad By Now, had to stay at home to work, but we managed to sneak out for his spring break.

Buzz, The Garbage Disposal Who Walks Like A Dog, has promised to look after those left behind, but I’m not counting on him being able to make a dinner that consists of more than randomly found goose poop pellets.

Still, I’ve managed to put that out of my mind as Hyper Lad and I blur down the slopes. This is his first time on the slopes and my first time on snowboards. I’m a pretty good skier, but this is something completely different.

I just hope I don’t come back with several casts and a tree branch stuck through my abdomen.

Drinking and boarding is not a good idea. It’s fun, mind you, but it’s not a good idea.

Wish me luck.

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Happy Happy Joy Joy

Life’s too short to be depressing all the time, dudes.

With that in mind, let’s talk some astonishingly odd science instead of contemplating the onrushing death awaiting every dude at the end of his life. There, I went and got all depressing again. Sorry.

Anyway.

Back to science. Every year, we hear about the Nobel Prizes, which honor the most groundbreaking, amazing scientific achievements that come to the attention of the Nobel committee. These are the ones we hear about: quantum reality abnegation, new theories for rational prediction of stock market action, finding a way to avert a way. You know, the usual.

But I’m almost certain you dudes didn’t know there is a sister/brother/ugly cousin award to the Nobel Prize. It’s called the Ig Nobel Prize and it honors the year’s strangest–but also very good!–scientific research, in 10 different categories. Past recipients have honored research on remote-controlled whale snot harvesting and why you don’t spill your coffee. Thanks to Popular Science for the write up since my comp ticket to the event must have become lost in the mail.

The Psychology Prize was given for confirming, by experimentation, that people who are drunk believe themselves to be better looking than they, in reality, are. The folks behind this also should receive a special award for best use of a bad pun in a scientific paper.

“‘Beauty Is in the Eye of the Beer Holder’: People Who Think They Are Drunk Also Think They Are Attractive,” Laurent Bègue, Brad J. Bushman, Oulmann Zerhouni, Baptiste Subra, Medhi Ourabah, British Journal of Psychology, epub May 15, 2012.

Eye of the beer holder, get it? Beer holder. Beholder. Yeah. It’s just that bad.

The Physics Prize went to a study that determined that a person could run across the surface of a lake unassisted. If, and I believe this to be an important caveat, that person and that lake both were situated on the moon. I’m guessing some hypothetical atmosphere and a heating element would be involved.

Humans Running in Place on Water at Simulated Reduced Gravity,” Alberto E. Minetti, Yuri P. Ivanenko, Germana Cappellini, Nadia Dominici, Francesco Lacquaniti, PLoS ONE, vol. 7, no. 7, 2012, e37300.

So, that’s the sort of good scientific work, albeit a bit on the esoteric side, that gets honored at the Ig Noble Prizes. However, to my mind, the best part of the entire event is the description that precedes each of the prizes. These are works of genius.

Take, for instance, the Peace Prize: (To the president of Belarus) For: “making it illegal to applaud in public, AND to the Belarus State Police, for arresting a one-armed man for applauding.”

The Probability Prize brings back memories of far too late-night idiocapades in college: For: “making two related discoveries: First, that the longer a cow has been lying down, the more likely that cow will soon stand up; and Second, that once a cow stands up, you cannot easily predict how soon that cow will lie down again.”

To my mind, however, the capstone of the Ig Nobel awards and the description that might make it into the all-time list of best descriptions, comes out of the Archeology Prize. Which was given for, well, I can’t do this justice. I think I’ll let the organizers tell you what it was given For: “parboiling a dead shrew, and then swallowing the shrew without chewing, and then carefully examining everything excreted during subsequent days — all so they could see which bones would dissolve inside the human digestive system, and which bones would not.”

Dudes and dudettes, I give you science!

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