sunday is ski day

Every Sunday, save one, for the past five weeks, Matthew and I have headed up to Mt. Pakenham, about a 25 minute drive from home. Matthew has been taking one-on-one ski lessons, and I have had a chance to get back on skiis for the first time in six years.

It's been a great experience seeing Matthew learn to ski - his teacher (Ann) says that she's never seen a five year old advance so quickly in just four lessons - he's already begining to bring his feet together during his turns - something that apparently doesn't happen this quickly. Ann joked that she wants to remember Matt's last name so that she can say she was his first teacher when he's on the World Cup. If Matt has his way, it will be World Cup freestyle he's into, and not the speed events I would have preferred.

At minimum, I am very happy that I'm able to share the sport of skiing with Matthew. Within the next two years, Madison will likely take lessons, so that all four of us can get out as a family, which will be a blast. Every time I take Matt to the hill I thank my Dad for giving me the opportunity to learn how to ski when I was a boy - it's great to be able to share that sort of experience.

This past Sunday, I forgot to bring along my poles, and rather than suffer the indignity of skiing without poles for an hour while Matthew had his lesson, I took advantage of the outdoor patio beer sales, and basked in some warm (-1 degree) sunshine as I waited for his hour to be up. I can think of worse ways to kill an hour. Once Matt's lesson was done, he and I took a few runs before the lifts closed for the day. Looking forward to next Sunday, and some good quality spring skiing in March.

apple knows what's funny

Fraser has brought these Will Ferrell advertisements to my attention. The true genius of this man is not yet fully appreciated.

The genius of both Will Ferrell (for his astute observations regarding the value of the parfait), and of Fraser (for his ability to type words into search engines and provide the links necessary to amuse me during a hard day at work).

Thanks to both of you. You are hearty men.

feel like whackin' your penguin?

First, before you get too excited, get your mind out of the gutter. Second, check these two delightful distractions out. Left-click to drop the penguin, left-click to whack - or, if you're smart enough to be on a Macintosh, just plain click.

Yeti Whacks Penguin | Yeti on Steroids Whacks Penguin Long Way

a moving commencement speech

Nearly a year has past since Will Ferrell delivered this moving speech to the graduating Harvard class, but it's content rings true, even today. There's even video for those of you who need the full blown experience. You know who you are.

old school pop

I'm always heartened to read about what Duran Duran is up to these days. The original members have reunited and are putting the finishing touches on a new disc, and are now touring again. When I saw them open for David Bowie at Exhibition Stadium during the Glass Spider Tour, it wasn't exactly cool to be a Duranie. Still isn't, but I've long let go of the notion that it's important to be cool. Haven't I?

my big fat obnoxious fiance theory

To my dismay, I'm watching this show, the train wreck that it is.

Last night, the two protagonists (I don't remember, nor want to learn their names), one being a silly young blonde woman who has actually agreed to participate in a reality TV show that forces her to marry a 275lb behemoth of hairy rudeness - the antithesis of everything that she and her family covets in a husband / son-in-law.

Anyway, the premise is that, unbeknownst to her, the husband-to-be is actually an actor, who is constantly attempting to put his worst foot forward, making the young bride-to-be endlessly fret at the interactions between him and her family. The happy couple must sell their love to her parents, have them buy-in completely to their engagement, and be present at their pending nuptials, or forfeit the $1 million prize for being able to pull the wool over the family's eyes.

So, last night, worlds collide, as she introduces the big fatty to her parents, along with his equally annoying parents and siblings. Needless to say, her conservative, all-American family with all-American family values, cringe at both the son-in-law to be, and the soon-to-be-inlaw folk.

Of course, little girl thinks that big fatty fiance is in on it with her, working with her to earn the dough at the end of the show. We, the audience is in on the joke of course, knowing that fat fiance is working against her the whole time.

Here's the kicker: I think that Blondie is being played by more than just the big fat obnoxious fiance. While she thinks that she's trying to convince her family that she gonna marry this dolt come hell or high water, I think that her family is in on the scam, and they have been instructed to make life hell for her, getting her to call the wedding off, forfeiting the prize money. I'm betting that if the family is able to get the wedding called off, there is cash in it for all of them, more than the million dollar prize she would get if she actually is able to go through with the ceremony.

The worst part about this blog: I can't believe I've actually spent time thinking and writing about this.

happy birthday shelagh!

It's my sister's birthday this very day! I won't tell you how old she is, other than to say that she is six years more mature than I.

cbs gives a hoot

What is the big stink about anyway? Janet shows a hooter on national televison during the Super Bowl half time show. Some FCC doode thinks that there were elements in the rest of the half time show that were even worse than the actual boob on the tube. (I don't think this FCC chucker has ever actually watched MTV.)

Janet has admitted that she was in caHOOTs with Justin on the exposure, but perhaps she was just attempting to deflect attention away from Michael. That, or Justin convinced Janet that he simply had to get back at Britney for the on stage kiss with Madonna a few months back.

Ultimately, everyone just might be lying. Here's why:

MTV, who produced the halftime show for CBS, planned the bustier rip, the lacey tear, the fleshy exposure of the silicon marvel all along. CBS probably signed off on the nubbin itself. But why, why, why, oh why would they do such a thing?

Because, in the aftermath of it all, I'm writing this. A million other writers (some far more important than I) are writing a million other articles about hootgate, feeling sorry for CBS, blaming MTV, scolding Janet, and envying Justin. I think someone once said that the only bad press is no press at all.

Interestingly, CBS just happens to be airing the Grammy Awards this Sunday. Scheduled to perform: Justin. Scheduled to present: Janet. On Monday, CBS said it was going to pull them both from the show. Now they say that Justin and Janet will remain in the show, and that the technical wizards at CBS will institute a five-second delay on the broadcast to avoid any indecent exposure (or f-bombs) from the glitteratti.

With all the hoo-ha over the hooter, you can bet that a few more eyeballs will be tuning in to the Grammy Awards just to see if anything happens. And if anything does, just wait until you hear the apologies from the button-pushing union man who was supposed to be working the delayed-feed machine.

Well done.