I'm Thankful For...

     Ah, Thanksgiving. My absolute favorite, unparalleled, tantamount holiday of the entire year. Throughout the year, I am angry, disappointed, depressed at times, cynical, and a smart ass. However, on this one glorious day of the year, all of that is forgiven; and I get to eat A LOT. So, that being said, and because I don't do it most of the other 364 days of the year, I give to you my list of people I am thankful for year-round, but only think to publicly discuss it about once a year... kind of like my tax return check...

I am thankful for, but in no particular order other than that's how they popped into my head:


1. My Wife: Jenny and I are unrecognizable to each other from where we started, and, as a wise, jail- time serving craftswoman says, "That's a good thing." I don't know what I'd do without her
listening to me bitch and moan about everything. She's a great mom and wife and I couldn't be more proud of her. Every day I am thankful for her... even when she beats me at Scrabble.






2. My Son: Cameron is absolutely, bar-none, the most amazing thing
I have ever been a part of. He is smart, funny,
and as handsome as, well, we all know who his dad is... He
makes me smile by just being Cameron. I am the luckiest dad
in the world. (One day, he'll get me for this picture!)

                                                                                                                             3. Papaw and Granny: Where would I be without them? Maybe even more importantly, who would I be? They are there for everything that I have ever asked of them. Everything from borrowing tools and showing me how to run an outlet to the breaker box to taking Cameron to experience things like feeding fish, always making sure that we "have everything we need," and being the two most dependable people I have ever known. I love you both.

4. Mom & Dad: I don't get to speak to either of them as much as I'd like or as much as I should. I love them both. Always supportive in the classroom and on the field, I was allowed and encouraged to be whatever I wanted; I tried to be everything. I want Cameron to have the same opportunities, both academics and athletics. Along the way, I somewhere developed a sense of humor that I will attribute to them both. But only because they say I'm their combination of smart-ass: Mom's smarts and Dad's wit. :) I'll take em both!





5. My Friends: I'm talking about those people who, instead of coming to bail you out of jail, would be sitting right there beside you in jail. My list is short. That's mostly my fault. I'm kind of an asshole and make it hard to be around long enough to become true friends with. You know who you are, and to save you the embarassment, I won't put your picture or even mention why Jim and Delisa Davis, Jason Streun, Paul Anderson, Alice Smith, Trudi and Jeremy Brack are not listed.

6. My Other Family:  Paul and Rhonda Jolley, Ryan and Becky Howe, Stephanie and Preston Armstrong. You guys have all become such an intricate part of my life. I can't tell you how blessed I am to have each of you to call family. I love my outlaws, err, inlaws and couldn't have asked for a better group of people to be associated with. I have always been made to feel like I am part of the family, right from the beginning. After what is creeping up on 5 years (eek!) of knowing you all, I have been able to see that this is just who you are. I am so appreciative of each of you because of who you are: Papa, the only other-guy-in-the-house-I talk-to with all those women around. Nana, the best wordsmith I have ever met. Steph, the always there to lend an ear sis. Becky, the life of the party as soon as she speaks! Ryan, the best damned river-floatin' drinkin' partner you could ask for. And Preston... what can I say about the guy who says everything about himself... I love you, man. Staying out til all hours for a game release or XBOX session, just chillin and talking about life, or just trying to change brake lights at 1 in the morning with no clue at all what we're doing; you are a beast, my friend.


I am thankful for these people year-round. I hope they know it. Partly because it's true, but mostly because I probably won't think to say it again until next year. BRING ON THE FOOD!

NBA: Greedy Sons o' Bitches

Fuck you, NBA. I'm not a die-hard NBA fan. I could care less, actually, about 99% of the time. However, instead of actually doing your damned jobs and PLAYING a GAME, you are haggling about not getting enough money?! Seriously? Somewhere in your tiny, steroid-fertilized, egotistical, "we deserve to get paid" heads, you decided you didn't get paid enough? You play 82 to 90 games a YEAR. Divide that into the $5.15 MILLION the average, not great, average, player earns, and you receive about $55,722 PER GAME!

Why the hell would you feel that we would remotely have any sympathy for you assholes? You make my ANNUAL salary and a half for 60 minutes of work...

The last time the NBA went through a labor stoppage, the fans' collective hearts were breaking [insert sarcasm HERE] over statements from Patrick Ewing like,"We might make a lot of money but, we also spend a lot of money." Really, jackass? We didn't realize that.

Players are upset because the NBA is trying to implement a system to keep them financially viable. The NBA front office stance is that just because another year has gone by, doesn't mean you should get paid more money. Sometimes the market can't hold a certain inflation level. If you want to see the end result of continuing to spend money that you don't have, just ask America how her credit rating is these days. Players are complaining because they think that owners could raise prices of gates and merchandise to supplement new, higher contracts for players.

Let's not place all of the blame on the players. After all, who is it that charges $54 for a nosebleed seat at an NBA game? Who is it that allowed players to sign unrealistic and unfounded contracts in the first place? Again, I refuse to feel pain for someone who OWNS a team and has let it run amok on them.

I hope this season gets cancelled. Players don't get paid if there is no season. Owners lose money. Many fans will lose interest in the players and become apathetic to the NBA. Players who go overseas: Break a leg... and an arm, and your liver. The only question worth asking at this point is, "Who's playing hockey tonight?"

p.s. Remembering all of the times that Patrick Ewing choked when it counted, reminded me of these memories:

THIS is what you get paid for?

Common Mistakes People Will Make During the Zombie Apocolypse

     With one of my favorite new television shows beginning it new season, The Walking Dead, it prompted me to think about some of the events that often happen in zombie movies and/or t.v. shows. Many of us think we know what we will do when Z-Day occurs; not IF... WHEN. It will be the goal of this post to better prepare some of you to survive a little longer. Some will need this information more than others. Make no mistake about it: You know who you are, so pay attention. I don't want to have to be the one yelling at your dead body after I've just removed your ignorant head... Nothing looks worse than a guy yelling at a dead body after he just decapitated it, regardless of how the body got there...

The following helpful thoughts are in no particular, but equally important order. **NOTE** Some of these images are graphic. Not apologizing, just letting you know. **




1. PAY ATTENTION! - This should be Rule Numero Uno. Unfortunately, people on television and movies often seem to think that they are safe after any given event or if nothing is happening immediately around them. Use your ears and eyes on this one, folks. Zombies moan and shuffle and drag their often broken legs and feet around with them. They're uncoordinated and will run into nearby objects. Listen for the tell-tale signs. Word of advice on this one: Most of the zombies who are now attempting to turn you into fast-food, made this same mistake when they were alive. If they were indeed paying attention, then maybe they fell victim to tip #2...




2. ZOMBIES DO NOT REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE! - Classic mistake made in novels and cinema. If your dear spouse hungered for you during life, they will still want to ravish you after becoming a Z, but it gives new meaning to the phrase 'love bite.' Cousin Roy isn't going to see you, snap out of it, and ask to borrow a wet-wipe and a toothpick to remove Aunt Ruth from his teeth. Zombies are reduced to the primal instinct of eating. YOU still have a working brain, USE IT. There will be plenty of time for crying later; just do it quietly. I'm not getting eaten because of your crush on the neighbor living in 3C.



 3. BOOM! HEADSHOT! - One in the head ensures they are dead. Zombies' internal organs no longer function, thus they have no pain synapses to fire when you shoot them in the leg or chest. The only part of the brain that is still working is that small area with the hunger instinct and some semblance of basic motor control. The only way to kill an undead stalker is to pierce the brain, preferably at the stem. DO NOT waste time shooting or stabbing it anywhere else.While you are bashing Patricia Pinata with your broomstick, another Z is likely to join your party and begin its own party by gnawing at the back of your neck... I've seen it a million times... (See photo #1)



 4. DO NOT SAY, "Did you hear something over there?!" AND GO INTO THE DARK, SPOOKY, AND CREEPY AREA!- This also happens way more than it should in movies. I mean, come on. If you've seen a zombie movie in the last 20 years, has anything awesome EVER come out of taking this action? I assure you that NO ONE has ever uttered these words and then followed it with, "Hey! I just found the winning lottery ticket!", "OMG! A double rainbow!" , or "SURPRISE! The zombie apocalypse was just a joke. Well, we had to actually eat your friends and family to make it seem believable, but it worked! You shoulda seen your face!"

Basically, if you encounter a space like this:                                        You should do this:

There is no shame in NOT investigating a strange and eerie space, no matter what those assholes Velma and Fred say.

5.  CHOOSE APPROPRIATE WEAPONS! - For the love of everything good and holy, do not wait until you come across a belt-fed Vindicator BF1  to decide on a weapon. A revolver of almost any make, a handgun with a magazine, or even a rifle will do equal damage if you put the time into learning how to use it properly! (I do advise against anything without a silencer unless it's absolutely necessary. The noise will draw any other Z's who may be near.) All I'm saying is that if you HAVE to use a Louisville Slugger, it'll work. I wouldn't advise it, but it would work. Chainsaws, scythes, katanas, machetes, and many other handheld weapons will do the trick. PLEASE remember to keep the zombie blood out of any open wounds, eyes, mouth, etc. It can pass just as easily this way as it does via saliva. Be smart. Use ranged weapons when possible, but don't get killed simply because Macy's didn't have an automatic AK47 in your size.

6. PACK ONLY THE NECESSITIES! - People often mistake deodorant, toothbrushes, or soap as a necessity. WRONG! You aren't going to the Orlando Holiday Inn, people. Zombies don't need to be attracted by your awesome new perfume to find you. The fact that you are simply alive is reason enough to put you on the menu. In the movies, survivors almost always focus on weapons, which is a good start. However, think a little more into the future. I suggest you pack a bag ahead of time. Though a complete list (or very close to it) can be found in Max Brooks' The Zombie Survival Guide, I'll list some of the more important items: primary weapon and ammo, gun cleaning kit, secondary weapon and ammo, knife, flashlight, emergency flares, signaling mirror, full canteen, 2 ways to make fire, hiking boots, bedroll, daily rations, and two pair of socks. This is an abbreviated list. Keeping these items in a backpack will help you whether you have to stay put or get on the road.

I'm sure I'll get back to this subject later on. It seems like me and zombies go together like Jack and Coke, ham and eggs, Cagney and Lacey, well, you get the idea. Stay safe, keep your bug-out bag handy, stay alert, and we'll meet up over at the old Johnson farm when the shit hits the fan.

The Lawnmower Man

   About 2 months ago, my lawn mower decided to take an unscheduled, unexcused leave of absence. Luckily for me, Tennessee suffered through a fairly dry summer. My front yard is basically rocks underneath about 3/10 inch of dirt, so the baked grass was manageable. However, the backyard is apparently the original site of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon and I could still grow pineapples out there in the middle of winter... It's ridiculous, annoying, and is more trouble than trying to keep a fucking Kardashian happy.

   Anyway, the downside to being a teacher (don't you like the fact that I say it as though there were only one downside to being a teacher?) is that I am at work during the normal operating hours of any other business. The exception is that they actually get paid for being there... So, since this is my Fall Break, I decide that this week is THE week to get my mower fixed. In doing so, I made a few observations that I had not expected, and one or two that I did. In no particular order, they were:

Observation #1: People who have no REAL JOB, shouldn't put out signs stating that they are capable of taking on the responsibilities that come with having a real job.

If I pass by your sign daily that says you do small engine repair, I am under the impression that this must be your job. If I call your business line and you answer the phone because it just woke you up
at 12-fucking-30 in the afternoon, take your sign down (if it doesn't "mysteriously burn on the roadside overnight." Yes, I can light a match.) This is exactly the kind of people who raise children to
think it's acceptable to lie on tax returns and turn old toilets into garden planters. I'm not asking for much; just a little truth in advertising. When I ask you if you are still doing small engine work (because, now, I'm wondering if your sign is a cover for a meth ring) and your response is, "Maybe. Depends on the engine," I am doubting your ability as well as the fact that when I return to pick up my mower, I'd like to not have to be told, "Dude. That was yours? We just turned it into a garden planter..." (Yeah, I used that damn reference again. In my defense it's only to reiterate the size and scope of societal deviant we are discussing here.) I hang up the phone, annoyed, but confident that there has to be someone else who can do what I need done.


Observation #2: People who have a real job, should NOT (in most cases), attempt to perform that profession while inebriated.  



I reckon I could take a gander at that engine...
Mmmm hmm.

I decide that Option 1 isn't going to work for me since I would enjoy actually getting my mower back, after being fixed or not.  I move on to Option 2: Look in the phone book for someone who performs this task openly and confidently enough to advertise. I need to go on record here with something. Yes, I enjoy drinking. Do I normally drink with the intent to forget several hours of my life? No. Drinking has its place in my life. It fits comfortably between work and writing research papers with a few other exceptions. Within SECONDS, I realize one of two things: A) This guy is about to write a thesis on the origins of internal combustion engines, or B) He has mistakenly passed out by the phone and my ringing it caused him to forget where he was an answer it. This is a multiple choice test I'm pretty sure I passed. After being unsure about how to tell me to find his shop (I HAD to ask. Call it 'double-checking my answer'), I got pissed and hung up the phone in the middle of what I can only imagine was the last, futile, drunken attempt to regain control of his voice. This observation leads me to believe that there are indeed people capable of performing their jobs, but just don't give a shit anymore. I can only relate this to burnt out teachers, politicians, the managers at ANY Applebee's, and, well, lawn mower maintenance professionals.




Observation #3: Some of the last few people we can count on are the same group of people that we have always counted on: the mom and pop shops that actually still have pride in their work.

The only people we can depend on is the generation that won't even exist in 15 years. This is something I have known for a while now. I finally called the LAST NUMBER in the phone book, which is an established business that's been around for over 47 years. Shame on me for not calling them first. After calling and talking to the most kind older gentleman (who was flat honest with me: "Just bring it on in. We'll get to in in 3,4, 5 days and letcha know what it'll run ya." I like it. Be there tomorrow.

It's painful to watch us collapse as a people, but imagine how hard it must be for that generation to watch. They have had to endure the constant nagging and bitching of the last 2 generations about how their cars aren't as good as their neighbors and how it's such a nuisance to wait on an email to arrive, especially when I know people who walked to school, yes WALKED, and couldn't afford the STAMP to get a letter to someone they wanted to talk to. This nation is becoming/has become a society full of entitled, codependent, do-nothings. Maybe I should move to Canada... eh?
Until next time, RANT ON [OFF]

Derrick of the Dead: The Saga Begins

     So, anyone who knows me will be able to tell you about this strange, obscene, inexplicable obsession with zombies. I wish I knew why, but I honestly have no clue as to when it all began. I'm not a terribly morbid person, I've never seen an actual zombie (although, I did have that one professor in college that I was unsure of...), and I've never attended an event in which a dead person sat back up or tried to eat me.

     I can say for a fact that about 4 years ago, I began having extremely regular dreams about them; we're talking 4-5 times a week. I mean to the point that, even in my dream, I was telling myself what I had dreamt about earlier, so as not to make the same mistakes. It just seemed like everywhere I turned some semblance of a zombie was staggering back toward me.

     This blog will be the first in a series dedicated to all things zombie in my life. I'm sure there will be others, as I have some sort of magnetic draw to them, although I could be (un)dead wrong... Yeah, I'm even disappointed in myself for that statement...

Liz: You hang out with my friends? Sorry, a failed actress and a twat?
Shaun: Well, that's a bit harsh.
Liz: Your words!
Shaun: I did NOT call Dianne a failed actress!



Let's begin with something light; a couple of my favorite zombie movies.

1) Right at the very top of the list is Shaun of the Dead. Great movie with a lot of amazing one-liners. It's not intense or aggressive, for the most part. A great film with an amazing humor element.

The basic rundown of the film is that the outbreak has occurred in London. In the midst of Shaun and his best friend, Ed, attempting to remain alive and save the people the love, Shaun is stuck in a battle to save his failing relationship with his (ex)girlfriend, Liz. The two best friends truly make me hope that when the world comes to this end, that I have my best bud beside me... but hopefully more competent that Ed.

2) Next up is ZombieLand. Almost as funny as Shaun, but this movie gets a little deeper into the personal stories of the characters. These four survivors meet criss-crossing the country because they have heard that the opposite side of the country is safe from infection. Z-Land is also quite a bit more intense than Shaun.  The gore and scare factor has been turned up noticibly, especially early and late in the movie. However, following the storylines of a man obsessed with Twinkies, a kid who has 32 rules to surviving the zombies, and two girls who just want to get to an amusement park, takes away from the intensity. Solid zombie movie.

 

Tallahassee: Out west, we hear it's back east. Back east, they hear it's out west. It's all just nonsense. You know, you're like a penguin on the North Pole who hears the South Pole is really nice this time of the year.
Columbus: There are no penguins on the North Pole.
Tallahassee: You wanna feel how hard I can punch?


 

3) Dawn of the Dead was probably the first zombie movie I saw that truly pissed me off. Don't get me wrong; the story is pretty good, the action is appropriate, and the acting was above par. However, never under God's hot sun should a zombie be able to run! I mean, honestly, rotting muscles and tissue, yet you can RUN after me?! This shook the very foundation of my zombie knowledge. I was (am) pissed off! This is the most fucked up thing about any zombie movie... EVER. I don't know who started this crap, but I hope that person becomes a zombie, runs at me, and I cut his legs out from under him... then I'm gonna beat his ass back to death with his own feet. When he's dead, I'm gonna shove a leg up each nostril and set him on fire. Then, I'm going to put his ashes in a coffee can, use it as a toilet, and send it home to his mother... That'll teach him to make zombies who can run... asshole.

 4) AMC has a television show, The Walking Dead. This show, based on a graphic novel series, is phenomenal. I even got Jenny, who thinks my zombie fascination stems from being married to her, to watch this show. Basically, Rick is left for dead in a hospital while recovering from being shot on the job (as a sheriff). Upon waking, he sees what's happened to the world and begins the hunt for his wife and son. I won't ruin it for you, but the storyline is amazing. Each episode leaves you waiting for the next. The only downfall is that AMC didn't anticipate how hugely popular the show would be and failed to prepare a second season of episodes. With writing and filming, they are projecting season 2 to premiere in October of this year. I know some of you are thinking, "Whoop-dee-freakin-doo!" but I'm telling you, this is for real. On its premiere night last October, it broke the all-time record for the most watched television show in the history of cable television. Check it out and thank me later (I'll send you an email containing my address to which you can lavish me with awesome gifts and such.)

I'm going to stop there for now. If you don't like zombies, then you didn't even read this far. I'm not sure why I went all Siskel and Ebert on this, but it just seemed like the right thing to do. Hopefully, my next in this series will get me back to the all-knowing, sarcastic, realist that you all know and love.

Never Let (grad) School Interefere with Your Education

     Where to begin? It's been a ridiculous whirlwind since I started this damned program. I actually thought to myself (as opposed to thinking to someone else), "Meeting one Saturday a month?! How hard can this be?!" In doing so, I picked up right where I left off in school: being wrong.
     It started at the first meeting way back in October when we were told, "For the next two months, we are going to be meeting twice a month." Twice a month? Really? No prob!...

PROB: Meeting twice a month meant reading 2 novels per month and completed the tedious chore of reviewing each novel to turn in for a grade. At the same time, we were also to complete lesson plans to be published and answer questions for various readings that we were assigned.... on top of our real jobs and other every day  garbage that all people deal with.
** NOTE: I didn't sign up for a publications degree or position of editor. I thought this was a bogus task from the beginning.

     So, December gets here rather quickly. It wasn't until this point that I realized, " Umm, we haven't received ANY completed work back from the professors." We all must be doing really well or they'd tell us, I guess. No prob!...

PROB: I immediately went into an anxiety fit and my OCD kicked in. Suddenly, it hits me that I've been answering the questions in a format of my own choosing. What if that's wrong? What if they're taking points off each time and I don't know it? What if the plural of moose actually was meece? (Off topic, but felt very relevant at the time.)
**NOTE: It eventually ended up not mattering at all. Everyone's format was different; crisis averted... for now.

     Last month we began receiving instruction from a second professor in the history section of the class. Actually, he's the one who handed back our initial paperwork. I had already heard some discouraging news about him as a teacher, i.e. tough to follow in lecture, requires a more detailed explanation during assignments, all around jerk. Right out of the damned gate, he tells us before people are even seated, "I grade tougher than Dr. Xyz (actual name changed to protect the innocent). I'm the tougher of the two. I expect a lot more than he does. This is a graduate level course." I appreciate the honesty. While I'm on this honesty kick, I enjoy his lectures... a lot. He's a sarcastic person who emphasises the idiocy of others and isn't afraid to point out where history, historians, and people who he disagrees with in general went wrong. I like that. I like this guy already! No prob!...

PROB: While I am thoroughly appreciative of this guy's candor and pompous attitude (we would be great friends and better drinking buddies), his grading scale is a bit... skewed. For example, if he thinks that John  Adams could've handled Situation A a certain way, but you think he handled it quite well, all things considered.... you just received a letter grade drop.  His opinion matters THAT much.
**NOTE: I actually like this guy, as I previously stated. I'm just going to have to adjust and bend my opinions for the next 2.5 years in his class. Can do.

     For those of you who don't know, I'm getting the chance to return to graduate school, and it's a pretty sweet deal. I show up once a month (and two weeks in the summer) for three years (total of 66 days) and I get a graduate degree. They pay for the tuition, books, lunch every time we meet, hotels/buses/plane fare when we travel, all my classroom materials, etc. All I paid was the registration fee of $25. I'm extremely grateful to be doing this, especially with some people that I currently work with. However, in true Derrick fashion, I felt it necessary to find the flaws, expose them, and complain about it.

Until next time, I'm going to try to live out a Mark Twain philosophy and try to "never let school interfere with my education."