In the Land of Alcoholics, the Drunk is King

I used to have a drinking problem. It's very hard to talk about it. Having read what Michele has said about a former Alcoholic partner, I feel guilt at times. Everytime I see that she had a man like that in her life, I honestly turn red. I feel embarrassed. Why? I don't know. When I drank, I never intended to hurt other people. I was labeled "A fun drunk" by many. In fact, I used to go to a bar in University City every Wednesday and entertain the crowd. The bartender knew me solely on the basis that he sold me drinks, but he once told, before I left Missouri, "You were damn funny, Leab, and you sold more drinks, because you brought more people to the bar."
Yet, for as funny as I was, I was essentially killing myself, and I was damn lucky that I didn't kill myself or anyone else. I chose the wrong way to deal with pain.
I was in a relationship with a gal I really loved. Even believed we would get married. It didn't work out that way. When all was said and done, I was alone with good friend J.D. You know him as Jack Daniels. That was my choice drink. Straight shots of Jack. I would do a few a day. That's right a few A DAY.
I fell into a spiral. I was depressed, so I drank, which made me forget issues (and supposedly made me funny), so I drank more to stay in that state, but then I got depressed (because, and here's some science, kids, alcohol is a depressant or "downer") so I had to drink more to try and feel better. What a nasty cycle.
It was also compounded by a very high tolerance. My father's German, and my mother has everything in her (French, German, Irish, etc.). This means I have a very high (or strong as some say) tolerance to alcohol. My wife has two glasses of wine, she gets buzzed. I have to have a bottle to feel anything. When I was drinking, I needed at least five tall beers to get drunk. On some days I needed four, others it would be six or seven, but five was the ususal. That's alot of beer and a great deal of money, which leads to another problem: Paying for it. It would get to the point where I would stop eating and would instead drink. Thanks to my father, I learned that a Guinness (my usual beer of choice) and a donut would fill you up for a few days. This meant less eating and more drinking.
For a year and a half that's what I did. I did alot of things I'm not proud of:
-I joined the Century Club. That's one hundred shots in one hundred minutes. You do beer for nine and then one hard liquor shot on the tenth. It was bad. VERY BAD. Do not attempt this, kids.
-I got very drunk one night and woke up the next morning with a gal I didn't really know. We didn't sleep together (as I was on the floor fully clothed, and she was in my bed), but it was still bad. She had a crush on me (I was told), so it was the reverse of what usually happens. Instead of sober guy taking advantage of drunk girl, the roles were switched. Maureen Dowd would be very proud.
-I went to classes drunk. I went to play practices drunk. I managed to build a 60 foot wide set for an outdoor show (that ended up having my ex in it in a staring role, so I had to see her ALOT. Guess what that means? MORE DRINKING!). I worked with power saws, drills, and more, all while inebriated. That's really not good. I also managed to sandpaper my own face while drunk. Why? I was trying to show people what not to do.
At one point I gave a now famous (among Wash. U's All Student Theatre) speech talking about how "I don't care if your grandmother dies, or you lose your foot, you WILL show up to strike (taking down the set), or I will come to your home and drag you here. Don't test me. I'll fucking do it!"
It frightened many people, but they showed up.
-I drove drunk, and I was very lucky. On one occasion, I can remember driving a friend home. There was an S curve. Had it not been three in the morning, I probably would have hit an oncoming car and died. (You see, I didn't "curve", but actually drove straight. Not good.)
-I asked my future wife out while drunk. She was coming out of the Scene Shop, and I was heading to backstage. I said, "Hey. Do you want to go grab a drink with me sometime?"
"Umm. No thanks," She responded. "My fiance wouldn't like that."
"He could come too!"
"Nnno."
"Well...can I come to the wedding?"
"No. Again, don't think my fiance would like you."
(Author's Note: As we married each other, the irony is that I got invited to the wedding...in the end.)
You want more? Ok then.
-I learned how to speak the alphabet backwards very quickly (and can still do it to this day). Do it twice a day for 400 days, and you got it.
And the absolute worst moment:
I sat down on a Friday night at a bar with two friends and began drinking. I woke up the next morning on the side of 55 north (which would be on the way to Chicago...where my ex now lived). That means I drank, then got in my car and drove several hours on the freeway. Do I remember it? No. Was I arrested? Luckily no. I took the next exit, turned around and came back. That was the first time I realized perhaps I had a problem. I didn't remember a thing from the night before. There was a phone number on my hand from a girl named "Trish". I never called. There were three bags of chips in the back seat. No idea where they came from. Later, a friend of mine would show me pictures of events which I couldn't recall (including body shots, and more).
So, having reached the end of my rope, I decided I needed to do something. Fueled by the desire to fix myself, to stop being an idiot, and by a rather lovely girl who would not become Mrs. Leab, (remember, kids, at this point in my life, my wife as far as I knew was supposed to marry someone else, and she was not on campus as she was doing an internship.) I started trying to fix myself. No one would help me. I gave all my alcohol to a friend of mine (it totaled around $400 of booze. You figure it out.), and I started looking at Alcoholics Anonymous.
Now, I couldn't stay with AA. The steps bothered me ALOT. I thought it was more about introspection, but upon looking at the steps, it occured to me that (again, at least to me) it was giving up personal responsibility. Let me show you what I mean:
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The 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous
1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol--that our lives had become unmanageable.

Ok, that makes sense. We have a problem, and we have to admit it. Cool.

2. Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.

Umm. That depends on your definition of "Power". Now, the capitalization of power leads me to believe we're talking about God. So, we're supposed to believe that God can restore us to sanity. This is the first problem for me.

3. Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood
Him.

Ok this now shows that I was right about #2. "Our will and our lives over to the care of God...." Does this mean God will feed me soup? Ok, to be serious, however, if God is doing the work, then I am not. That's the problem. I believe, I TRULY believe that we have to take the responsibility. Turning it over to God makes me feel as if it's not my problem anymore, but his to fix. As if I am broken G.I. Joe figure. I'm not ok with this, but I want to be fixed, so I'm still sticking in at this point.

4. Made a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves.

Perfect. Here's another I agree with in principle. Reflect on who you are and figure out where you screwed up. Awesome. That's totally necessary to get better, and, in fact, this aspect more than any other made me get better. I made a list, a full-on written list of everything I had done wrong, and how I was hurting myself. That made me work harder. Plus, you know you did alot of "desperate things" to get drunk. Cough syrup, etc.

5. Admitted to God, to ourselves and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.

Here's another issue. If you define God as the actual Holy Host, then I can't do it. If God is everything and admitting it to myself and another human being means saying it aloud, then it works for me. If I just say it aloud to my friend, then God can hear it.

6. Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.

No, no, no, no. I will not have God remove my defects. No. I will work them out myself. Asking God to do it is the whole Cosmic Bellboy issue. God is not there to do things for me. I was given choice and ability and free-thinking in order to fix my own shortcomings.

7. Humbly asked Him to remove our shortcomings.

No. Again: my shortcomings, my problem. If God, or Fate, or Time, or Vishnu, or some guy named Murray who lives in the sun is really running the universe, then I am not going to waste their time to make them fix me. We are losing our personal responsibilities. "It's not my fault I drink, my dad did it...and God let me do it."
I understand that people need help, and that for some God is their help, but too many people use it as a crutch where if they aren't better, then it's God's fault. That's not how it works.

8. Made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all.

Ok deep breath now to calm down. Ok. Good idea. Hard to remember if you're a blackout drunk, but a very good idea. This also goes along with number 4. You'd think they would be closer together.

9. Made direct amends to such people wherever possible, except when to do so would injure
them or others.

This one is a key. You MUST take responsibility. Say, "I'm sorry. It was my fault." Don't make it into, "Well, I wouldn't have done it if I were sober." That's a cop-out. That's like saying, "I'm sorry I hit you with my car, but it wouldn't have happened if you hadn't walked into that crosswalk...when you had the light...whatever...."

10. Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it.

Sure. We're keeping up numbers 4, 8, and 9. Those are really the keys to this anyway.

11. Sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God, as we
understood Him, praying only for knowledge of His will for us and the power to carry that
out.

Moving back to the problem area for me. Only "Knowledge of His will for us" can really get us through this? Come on. That means that again we are no longer in control and can then shed responsibility. That's not ok with me.

12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, we tried to carry this message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.

The end. Having been "touched" (appropriately) by God or an angel, we know turn around and push this on others. Maybe I'm cynical, but isn't that also how cults work?

Yes, I am knocking AA, but I do understand, before you get all pissed off and try to kill me, that Alcoholics Anonymous works for some people. It never seemed right for me and so I moved away from it.
That's why I call myself a former drunk, not an ex-alcoholic. An Alcoholic seeks help from AA. A drunk doesn't. It's that simple.
I managed to take the steps from AA I believed would help me and fixed myself. I didn't go to God or Buddha for help. I stopped drinking by willing myself. I did meditate, but not on God.
My ultimate issue with Alcoholics Anonymous is the lack of perceived responsibility. God will "remove your shortcomings." YOU won't. He will. Not ok to me. You need to take care of it. You kicked the sheets off the bed, you put them back on.
I have now gotten to place where I can drink wine. I never have beer (unless it was a REALLY bad day and then I only have one and with supervision), and the only time I am allowed hard alcohol is when my throat really hurts (such as getting sick). Then I can only have one shot of Jack Daniels, and again, only in the presence of my wife.
Wine is different. I know some people can guzzle wine, but I have never been able. I have to sip it, which means I drink slower, which means I drink less. And unlike beer or liquor, I savor wine. I feel the taste around my palate. Sure, it makes me sound like yuppie, but...I love wine.
I really would love to open a winery after I retire and do all Shakespeare-themed wines.
What's worse is that now that I don't drink, I am pressured even more. Several of my wife's friends and co-workers are desperate to see me drunk. I don't know why. Actually that's not true, I do know why. I remain very composed around them, whereas all of them have gotten VERY drunk (or worse) around me. Back in October, a large group of us went to The Melting Pot for a birthday party (mine, and three other people's). I was pushed to drink a bottle of wine. Glass after glass was ordered for me. As they got wasted, I felt nothing. Part of that was tolerance for alcohol, but alot of it was also being annoyed at being a sideshow.
"Hey, let's get the former drunk REALLY drunk so we can see how he used to act."
It's no secret among Mrs. Leab's co-workers that I don't drink anymore. The reasons aren't known, but it is clear to them: He has the occasional glass of wine and that's it.
I am not condemning people who like to drink. Like I said, I still drink wine. I am also not going after people who choose to use Alcoholics Anonymous. The group has helped many people and that's wonderful, but it was not for me. I felt I needed to fix my problem, not (as I perceived it) have someone do it for me.
So there you go. I was asked about "the Lost Period" I mentioned and that's how it materialized. While it was mostly a negative period, it did make me into a better person.
Namaste.

The Definition of Ironic: Holiday Edition

It's Holiday time. Sure, there people out there who are arguing the virtues of "Happy Holidays" versus "Merry Christmas". At the same time, there is a fight going on among those who believe that Christ is being taken out of Christmas versus those who want to see all religions fairly represented.
This post is not here to argue that stuff.
No, this is about the tree that you see to your right. This is about the ultimate irony this holiday.
Urban Outfitters (a pretty trendy store) is selling the "Charlie Brown Pathetic Christmas Tree" you see on the right. It's ONLY twenty-four dollars (excuse me while I wipe the sarcasm off my screen...).
Now, if anyone has ever seen the A Charlie Brown Christmas special, you know that CB (and thus by association Charles Schulz) feels that Christmas is too commercialized. He then spends the rest of the time searching for Christmas' meaning. In the special, Linus ends up giving Charlie Brown a reading from the Book of Luke about the birth of Jesus.
Now here's the thing about the special that not alot of people know. I call it the original irony.
At one point in the special, Linus (or Charlie Brown, sources disagree) crashed into a sign advertising Coca-Cola after being tossed by Snoopy. (Current versions never show where Linus lands.) The closing carol originally included the complete verse (instead of fading out) with a final on-screen "Merry Christmas from your local bottler of Coca-Cola" right after the United Feature Syndicate credit at the end.
That's right. A special where the main character decries commercialism was itself overly commerical.

Now, to the ultimate irony.
Charlie Brown decides to buy the "pathetic" tree instead of a "brilliant aluminum one." Why? Because those aluminum trees are too commercial (and they're pink and blue and such).
So, here's Urban Outfitters creating a commerical trend out of a special that was against commercialism. Deeeeelicious irony.
The tree? It's already on backorder (ALOT of people have ordered it).

Slander a la Leab (12/8/05)

First of all. Happy birthday to my beautiful wife.
I know she'll never read this as she never reads my blog, but at least it's out there across the blogosphere. She's still the best thing that's ever happened to me (and I'm probably the worst thing that ever could have happened to her).
Once again, this has become the most popular segment on the ole blog. Let me just share something with you.
I received an email (ironicteachings@hotmail.com) telling me, "The rest of your stuff sucks, but your slander is sort of funny. Otherwise you suck."
Mmmmmm. Nastygrams.... Oh, and I got another email telling me not to use Alexis's name again. Awesome. I love it.
Ok. Let's get to tonight's SLANDERAMA!
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Boxing Match of the Century Leads to Ratings Stunt:
With the Twin Cities consumed by the upcoming fight between Rex "The Titanium Typist" Sorgatz and Garrison "The Lake Woebegon Battler," the local news outlets are attempting to boost ratings post-sweeps by having the evening news anchors combat each other in a four-team tornado tag-team tournament. (Gosh, I love alliteration...don't you?) Several variations of the tournament were discussed. At first, it was going to be a broadcast-off, where a randomly selected audience of Minnesotans would watch four hours of news back-to-back-to-back-to-back and then judge who was the best. However, this idea was thrown out when it was realized the audience would rather commit suicide then watch four straight hours of news.
In an attempt to capitalize on the highly publicized prize fight, an undercard was announced. However this was scrapped when the anchors began arguing.
Cyndy Brucato was quoted as saying, "I wouldn't fight Robyne (Robinson) on a bet. That bitch has a long reach AND she wears those damn Rox (available everywhere) which cut deep."
Brucato wasn't the only naysayer. "There's a reason my nickname is 'Dapper Don', people," WCCO anchor Don Shelby mused. "If you think I'm going to mess up THIS face (at this point he was holding up two mirrors. One for the front, the other for the left side), you're crazy."
It looked as if all would be lost, but then, a bolt of lightning (figurative, of course) struck local student Beverly Smith.
"Well, I'm from Mississippi, and in my family, when we have to solve a problem, we wrassle (wrestle). Pauses to spit tobacco. Why can't they just wrassle?
Thus was born the tournament. WCCO, KSTP, KARE, and KMSP will all be a part of the tournament (WFTC's Chris Conangla and Jordanna Green have been excused due to community service and impending birth respectively).
Odds makers in Las Vegas are favoring Fox 9's Jeff Passolt & Robyne Robinson because of his stone hard hair and her amazonian-like reach.
The rules will be as follows:
-It will be a free-for-all with anything being allowed (this includes chairs, hairstylists, teleprompters, etc).
-The final winner of the match will receive 2 full nielsen points.
-The "Don Shelby" rule will be in effect. (This means that no one can hit the face.)
On a final note, local boy Josh Hartnett will be singing the national anthem.
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In Other News:
-Local boy John Madden was arrested in Philadelphia on monday night. Apparently, Madden was at the airport with Al Michaels. It is well known that Madden is afraid to fly and so he travels around the country in a triple decker bus. As Michaels was waiting to go through security, he discussed that night's game with Madden. At one point, Madden was overheard shouting, "BOOM!"
Security was sure Madden was making threats about bombs and took him down. As Madden was being dragged off, witnesses swore he was saying, "That guy who tackled me has no form. There I am and he tries to take me down, but BOOM, I threw him. Luckily the other guy plays like he's going to Outback and hit me harder than a blooming onion."
Madden is currently being held on $1,000,000 bail.
-Former ESPN anchor and late night talk show host has not been on TV in over a year, however, he has turned up in the Twin Cities. As Kilborn walked by the University of St. Thomas in Minneapolis, a fan recognized him and shouted, "Hey Kilborn, where you been?"
Kilborn shouted back, "Under 94...by Hennepin."
The fan laughed, but ten minutes later, Kilborn was seen grabbing a cardboard sign that read, "I used to famous. Please give me a dollar." He then headed over to the 94 off-ramp at Hennepin.
-UPDATE: The first fight on the undercard of Sorgatz/Keillor has been named. John Stewart and Bill O'Reilly will go toe to toe to debate Happy Holidays/Merry Christmas. Should be exciting stuff.

Bat Mitzvah Update

Pictures from the $10,000,000 Bat Mitzvah.
In case you need a refresher:
(From IMDB)
50 Cent, Tom Petty, Stevie Nicks and members of Aerosmith and The Eagles joined forces to create one of the year's greatest live line-ups at the weekend, when they played a private Bat Mitzvah celebration gig. Multi-millionaire David H. Brooks paid a reported $10 million to hire the artists to perform at his daughter Elizabeth's party at New York City venue The Rainbow Room. Brooks is said to have chartered his company jet to pick up Aerosmith rockers Steven Tyler and Joe Perry from their Saturday concert in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. He reportedly paid the stars $2 million to play a 45-minute set, while 50 Cent is thought to have received $500,000. Petty wowed the gathering with an acoustic performance, while The Eagles stars Joe Walsh and Don Henley played alongside Fleetwood Mac singer Nicks. Other acts to perform at the extravagant event included Ciara, Nicole Richie's fiance DJ AM and saxophonist Kenny G. However, Brooks has denied the reported cost of the event. He told the New York Daily News, "All dollar figures were vastly exaggerated. This was a private event and we do not wish to comment on details of the party."
These pictures say more than Brooks does.
Enjoy.

The Movie? After the Ads...

"Moviegoers should get used to those ads shown as they settle into their seats."

That's right, boys and girls. According to USA Today, companies will spend even more money to get more ads on the screen by summer of 2006.
Now, I don't know about you, but I can't stand the ads. If I want commercials, I'll watch TV. So, here are some logical conclusions from this:

1. Fewer people will attend the movies.
Too many people already treat the movie theater like TV. That means talking (be it with other people or on phones), being slovenly, or worse. With more ads and quicker DVD (or home video) releases, a majority of people will stop going and just wait. Doesn't sound bad, right? Except, the next step is:

2. Theaters start going out of business.
With people not showing up, screens start to close. The rapid demise of megaplexes matches only the former rapid growth. Jobs are lost, the economy suffers only slightly. However, the real losers here are us. With fewer screens, Hollywood has to find alternate ways to get money from sponsors. An ingenious idea is formed....

3. Ads are put on DVD (or home video).
That's right. Ads, which cannot be skipped, are added to the movies. Thus, whenever the disc is put in, you have to suffer through 20 minutes of commercials before the film. The cycle continues. People will have to start the movie, walk away to do something for 20 minutes, and then return.
Now, there's no movie theaters and ads littered throughout DVDs everywhere.

This issue is much bigger than you think. There's a class action lawsuit against the Loews Theater chain, and at one point Congress asked for a bill where theaters would put down two times. The first when the ads started, and the second when the film actually started. Unfortunately, too much pork got added to this bill, and it was defeated.

I really can't tell you what the best way to fix the problem is. I like the idea of two times, but it will never fly. Theatres know they'll lose money if they implement it, sponsors will try to get rid of it, and there will problems with seat selection. (Imagine showing up at seating, say ten minutes before the film starts, you save your seats, and then leave for a half hour to grab dinner. When you return the rest of the theater is pretty full, but you have your seats. Is it fair to show up and then leave?)
Still, if I ran a theater chain, that's what I would do. Two times. I really believe that would bring in more business, and I would make it clear by using two colors. Black for start time, and red for actual film start time.

I love going to the movies. It's a sacred ritual to me. The problem I have with the ads is not their presence (though alot of them bug me as, like TV, they are way too loud), but the fact that if you go to a 2.5 hours long film, then you're in the theater for three hours. And a half hour of that is ads and previews. That's a long time for people who have a great deal of take home work (I'm just saying....).

Maybe you don't notice, and maybe you don't care. I can't speak for you, dear reader. All I know is that for my entire life I have been a movie theater goer. When the lights dim, it's a feeling of joy for me. Places like the Heights and the St. Anthony Main Theater don't have ads before the films. It's just straight to the previews (usually one or two) then the movie starts.

Then again, what do I know? I'm willing to pay 8 bucks for a ticket, 10 dollars for popcorn and a drink, and then sit through...well...nowadays schlock. I could be wrong.

Ramblings for the Evening (12/6/05)

The one thing I really don't like about this time of year is how dry Minnesota get. It is incredibly dry. My skin feels horrible, and I'm taking in what feels like double the amount of water. It sucks.
So, without further ado: I GIVE YOU...DERELICT!
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The Weather? Fair:
So the Vikings won their fifth straight game, and all of sudden everyone is ok with them. This is is hysterical. I was listening to KQRS yesterday, and they were ALL about how great the Vikings are. Only a few months ago, they left the team for dead and talked about how they couldn't cheer for them. It was the same with a bunch of my colleagues.
I guess I shouldn't be surprised, but it's amazing to me how many fair-weather fans there are out there.
My wife is a Kansas City Chiefs fan. Loves the team. Even when they are losing, she cheers for them and believes they can win the game.
Me? I cheer for many losing teams: The New York Mets, the New York Knicks, The New York Jets (that's a tough one this year, but I still cheer), the Minnesota Wild, and the New York Rangers.
I admit that I gave up on the Rangers two years ago. Not because they were losing, but because the General Manager traded away the most popular player on the team (a guy who had spent almost 20 years with them). However, last year he said he would commit to youth, and he has. That shows me something.
At Wild games, I am amazed that people would leave. Example? Phoenix came to town and took a two goal lead into the first intermission. People left. "That's it, dude. The game's over. Let's went!" And they left. It ended up being a close game, but no one cares.
When you win, the world loves you. When you lose, they scorn. Many Wild fans are walking away right now, because the team has been losing lately. However, if the team starts winning again, they'll come back.
It's the same for the Vikings. If they lose every game from here on out, all we'll hear about is the boat, and all the other crap this year.
Pick a horse and stick with it through thick and thin. That's how a real fan is.
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Simple Life 4 (Or Why I Hate this Country):
SIIIIIIIIGGGGGGHHHH! Ok, a show like Arrested Development is going to be canceled, but fans clamored for and are now getting ANOTHER season of the Paris Hilton/Nicole Richie show? And what's the premise? The girls will split time as a surrogate wife and mother to a family, and the family will vote on who is better.
This is what people want. THIS.
Look, I laugh when I hear, for example, that Paris Hilton wants a mini-tiger for Christmas. Sure, I also die a little inside, because I know there are girls out there who will want to emulate her and so will want a mini-tiger, but mostly I laugh.
The problem is this whole "rich bitch" image is now being celebrated. Look at MTV's Super Sweet 16 show. Girls whine and complain in order to get a huge 16th birthday party. It's insane, and it shouldn't be celebrated. You want another example? Here's a story from the International Movie Database:
50 Cent, Tom Petty, Stevie Nicks and members of Aerosmith and The Eagles joined forces to create one of the year's greatest live line-ups at the weekend, when they played a private Bat Mitzvah celebration gig. Multi-millionaire David H. Brooks paid a reported $10 million to hire the artists to perform at his daughter Elizabeth's party at New York City venue The Rainbow Room. Brooks is said to have chartered his company jet to pick up Aerosmith rockers Steven Tyler and Joe Perry from their Saturday concert in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. He reportedly paid the stars $2 million to play a 45-minute set, while 50 Cent is thought to have received $500,000. Petty wowed the gathering with an acoustic performance, while The Eagles stars Joe Walsh and Don Henley played alongside Fleetwood Mac singer Nicks. Other acts to perform at the extravagant event included Ciara, Nicole Richie's fiance DJ AM and saxophonist Kenny G. However, Brooks has denied the reported cost of the event. He told the New York Daily News, "All dollar figures were vastly exaggerated. This was a private event and we do not wish to comment on details of the party."
$10,000,000?!!! What the hell, folks? Sure, if you have the money, you should spend it, but what are they telling their daughter? "Everything you want, you'll get?" What happens if life doesn't turn out that way?
This, to me, is a huge problem in our country. Wasted money.
Let's say, however, the "dollar figures were vastly exaggerated." Does that mean it was ONLY $5,000,000? Oh joy. Hey, Danny the homeless guy off of 94, it was only 5 mil. Phew!
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Law Students:
Apparently being a lawyer for Saddam Hussein will get you...uh...killed. Nice. So, here's my propostion for the newest reality show. As you may or may not know, the jobs for law students are drying up. It used to be (in the 1980s) there were three openings for every 1 law student. That meant options. Then, in the 90s, it whittled down to 1 to 1. Still ok for options, but now more cuthroat. In 2005 (that would be now), the pendulum has shifted. There are 5 or 6 students to every 1 job. Even more cutthroat. So, here's my proposal. There are going to be Law students who need a job. Why not create a show where fifteen of the brightest minds become Saddam's law team. Whoever survives, gets their own law firm. Could you imagine?
"Janel was in the lead, but she was killed by Shiite extremists. That leaves Andrew and Kate left."
Maybe it's too barbaric, but come on. Don't we have enough lawyers out there? Plus, could you imagine how you would put that on your resume?
John (or Jane) Q. Public
Legal Experience:
Law Offices of Jihad and Hallah
-Trial and appellate matters include commercial, construction, patent,employment, consumer, insurance, and personal injury disputes (including Saddam Hussein).
You'd be hired.
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People Say the Darndest Things:
Lewis Black has a bit where he talks about being in IHOP and hearing a woman say, "If it weren't for my horse, I wouldn't have spent that year in college." He then goes on to talk about how his brain essentially melts trying to figure out what it means.
I had that experience over the weekend.
My wife and I went to a Christmas Party (that's the final topic below). It was odd. Anyway, this guy is talking to me, when his wife comes by. He stops talking and turns to her in order to ask something. Her final comment is, "It's not like electrical tape hurts it at all."
That quote is still rattling around in my head. What does she mean?
The couple is Catholic. Is she talking about fixing their Christmas lights? A crucifix? Did she mean something about sex? How weird would THAT be?
This is the amazing thing about catching the end of conversation: Without the proper context, your brain goes searching to make connections. That's what Black was talking about in his schtick. When your brain goes into hyper-drive trying to make the logical connection, it starts to hurt. I stayed awake for an hour after the party (yes, an hour) trying to figure out what she meant.
The smart thing to do? I should have asked, but I didn't really know this woman, and they already thought I was quite weird.
And finally:
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Leab is a Stranger in a Strange Land:
One of my wife's Uber-bosses had a Christmas party on Friday night. Seeing as how it was for her career, I went along. You have to understand, the guest list was such that I knew NO ONE! Usually I know one or two people. Not that night. However, my wife waits until the last minute to tell me the ultimate surprise about the party: There will be an hour of Christmas Carol singing!!!!!
Can I sing? Sure. Can I do carols? Not so much. When I was a kid, we used to go to church at Christmas time so my mother could sing. She loves to sing. I didn't know the words, so I would just say, "Four" over and over and over again to the beat. It sounded like I was singing. As I got older, I started singing both the male and female parts (I got bored), but at this party, I knew very few of the songs being sung.
Let's begin with the arrival. From the moment we arrived, my wife and I got separated. I end up over by the appetizers watching her talk with her boss and co-workers. Around me were spouses (most of whom knew each other). Best moment? When a younger gal introduced herself and her husband. Turns out hubby is a honest-to-goodness rocket scientist. Also turns out that both of them were home schooled (and have the demeanors to show it) and hate teachers. Then they ask, "What do you do?"
My answer? "I kill baby dolphins."
There was a gigantic pause.
Now, I'm not knocking home schooling. It can be done very well, but more often than not, most home schooled kids have issues with talking to other people (or social issues for short). This girl did. Everything was TOO matter of fact, and when I proved her wrong on something, she stopped short of pulling out a knife and going for my eyes.
Back to the jobs. I let them stew. It was obvious they didn't catch the humor. So I told them, "Oh, I'm just kidding. I'm a high school teacher."
Another pause.
"That's...unfortunate." And that was it for our conversation for the rest of the night. They avoided me as if I was plagued with bird-flu and trying to bleed on them.
Want more fun stuff? I was the only person there with even a hint of Judaism in him or her. Everyone around me was Catholic and very aryan. Oh...SO aryan. When my wife mentioned that my father was a Jew, I was supposed to talk about how I understood guilt...just like the Catholics. Ummm, yeah. My mother is protestant, my father a Jew. This means : A. Not Jewish , and B. Not guilt-ridden. It's not a Jewish father sitting in the dark, folks.
When I explained I was a Taoist, my wife kicked me...hard.
Then, to complete my utter hell, we were given the "best seats in the house" for the carol singing. Catholics aplenty stared at me (The "token Jew" as my wife's boss's wife mentioned) to make sure I sang. Not going to lie to you: I didn't know half the songs. Part way through I got so bored, so I started singing them in German.
"O Christmas Tree" become "O Tannenbaum".
"Jingle Bells" become "Slichten Fah".
I did that until the local church choir director started asking, "What are doing? What's a Tannenbaum?"
SIGH.
It wasn't the worst party I've ever been too (At least my wife didn't cheat on me there, right?), but it was very uncomfortable for me. I can get along with anyone. Really. It's all about faking it, but this was really tough.
The ultimate highlight of the night? The boss's son runs over to me and hugs my legs? Why? No clue. He just ran over and hugged me. I was shocked. The boss was shocked. Every party goer was shocked. I just stood there and said, "Thanks kiddo. That was nice." He then hugged me again. Never talked to the kid before, never seen him before, and pretty sure that the boss wasn't too happy. Kiddo wouldn't hug his uncle, but random Jewish-looking guy? No problem.
Finally, at the end of the night, one guy says to me (SO NOT KIDDING), "You know, if you grew your hair out...you'd look like Jesus."
What would you say to that. "Gee..um..thanks. Well...that's me...I look like the savior...Wooo...yeah."
What did I say to that? "Thanks, Bob. I don't usually get told I look like J.C. Awesome" (with a thumbs up).
I love my wife, folks. I love my wife.
Final note: I know, I know. I have ripped on Christianity ALOT. If you're reading this and Catholic, I am not saying that you suck. All I'm saying is that I grew up in a predominantly religious-free zone. So when I come into someone's home and next to the Christmas Tree is a almost life-size crucifix...it's a little creeptastic. That's all.
Namaste.

Mail Mondays (12/5/05)

What a long weekend. I will be talking about it tomorrow.
Let's get to the mail.
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Leab,
You mentioned before that you were depressed for part of college. I believe you called it your "lost period."
Why?
What's the deal?
Concerned Citizen

Dear CC,
Yeah, it's true. For a good year and a half in college I was very down and did a lot of things to hurt myself. It wasn't a smart thing to do, but sometimes we don't think straight. Normally, I don't open up about stuff like this, so buckle up kids.
I was with a gal for two years. I really cared about her a great deal and changed many aspects of my life to keep her happy. When I moved into an apartment my sophomore year, I set everything up with this thought in mind: "Will she like it?"
The three cats I now own? I got them while with her. One day she found a stray cat. After shelling out $20 to litter and feed this cat, its owner turned up. Devestated, she begged me to get a new cat. Again, I should have been listening. "I love kittens," she told me, "but I think cats are boring." When we got the three boys, she agreed to take one of them with her when she graduated. Fast forward to her leaving...well...I'm getting way ahead of myself.
They say love is blind, and in my case it's also deaf and dumb. My sisters, my parents, and my friends all said this would end badly. Some even went as far as sitting me down and explaining to me why this gal (we''ll call her Lola) was wrong for me. I didn't listen.
The signs were all there. She had been in a relationship while in high school where her college-aged lover mistreated her. In college, she dated a man who went crazy and stalked her after their break up. This man (we'll call him Isaiah) would figure into the situation.
Before I explain what happened, let me set up for you how we met and dated.
Washington University in St. Louis holds a concert in the Spring called WILD (Walk In Lay Down). This concert usually features someone famous (this year was Porno for Pyros). It was at this time that I was visiting the school. Encouraged to tour the campus alone, I left my parents and went to the campus that night. It was here I met Lola. I wandered over to the main stage to talk to a few people I had met during the daytime tour. As we talked, this gal bumped into me. She was slightly shorter than me with dark hair, piercing eyes, and nice body. She apologized and in an attempt to not look like an idiot, I made a witty remark. She laughed, and we began to talk. After 20 minutes, this guy shows up looking very angry. He's about 5'5", muscular, and walking like an ape. Think Danny Bonaduce, but Jewish. He gets angry and drags her off.
Fast forward a few months. I am now a precocious (HAHAHA) freshman at Wash. U. After ten minutes in my first class, I become the stage manager for the first show of the year (I was the only person with any experience). During the first rehearsal, I discover that Lola is on my running crew, and she remembers me. I also find out that her now ex-boyfriend is running lights with me. This makes for a volatile situation. Everytime they see each other, they argue. Think Moonlighting but angrier and Jewish.
Auditions came and went and Lola was cast in the show I would be working on next. Though the first show we were working wasn't over yet, she had her script. One night rehearsal ends and Lola asks me if I could "help her with her lines." Now, I'm a guy, which means that...well...I'm clueless. I really thought she wanted help with her lines. I was wrong.
After that night, we were, for all intents and purposes dating. However, Isaiah was still in the picture. You see I would go to Lola's apartment every night to be with her. Sometimes, he was there. One night after a fairly rough rehearsal, he was there with her. Both of them were stoned out of their minds. Isaiah hands me his car keys and says, "You shouldn't be here. I think it's my turn tonight. So take my car and go do whatever you want."
I was embarrassed. I should have taken his keys, but I didn't. I walked back the three miles to my dorm room and spent a very sleepless night trying to decide what to do. It was answered for me the next morning. Lola called me and apologized. It was after a brief conversation that she explained to me that Isaiah was done. It was just the two of us now.
We remained together for another year and half as a couple. One night, one moment changed it all.
At a party being thrown by myself and a friend of mine (he had a bigger apartment, but it was our soiree), I lost sight of Lola. To compound matters, Isaiah had shown up. The last I heard, the two of them had walked off together. I asked Lola's friend, "Have you seen her?"
"No."
I was asked to go to the garage and get more beer, so I went.
When I walked in, I found Lola on the hood of my car in flagrante de licto (that is, having sex) with Isaiah. I was devestated. Even though I knew in the back of my mind it had to be happening, my heart was still crushed. I went back into the house and told my buddy:
"Go into the garage and tell Lola and Isaiah that they need to leave NOW. I'm going to get your bat and go out there in 30 seconds. If he's still here, he's going to be hurt."
No one consoled me. One of my friends even hit me with the "I told you so" speech. Never a good idea. It's like when a person jumps off the roof and breaks his or her leg. As the bone pokes out and blood spouts, that person doesn't need to be told "You idiot. I told you that would happen."
I went back to my apartment. A few hours later, Lola showed up. We fought viciously. I heard all about how she still has something deep in her heart for him. I also got to hear about his 13" penis (not something you want to hear about when you're sleeping with someone). For three hours it went on. Three hours. My neighbors would later complain to me that they heard everything...two floors up.
I should have learned my lesson. I should have ended it, but I didn't. She cried, she swore she wouldn't do it again, and honestly, I was a young man dating a good looking gal (think Alexis [Girl Friday], but make her a 40DD). Yes, I was a college student and not the smart man I am today. I thought about sex. I gues that makes me like every other man out there. Sorry to dissapoint. Anyway, I didn't learn my lesson until later. We stayed together.
One month later, she dumped me. We were lying in bed together post coitus, and she said she couldn't be with me anymore. She then rolled over and went to sleep. I went out. I ended up walking for four hours. I walked University City, the school's campus, and more. When I came back, she was gone.
Here's where it gets worse.
I know. You're thinking, "Leab, how can it get worse? You stayed with a cheating woman who dumped you. It can't get worse!" It can.
We may not have been together anymore, but we still slept together for two more months. That's right. We had sex together every other night for two more months. No talking, no feelings, just sex. Then it ended...for a little while.
Already unhappy and having lost many friends who chose her over me, I started drinking (that's another story for another time). I drank alot.
One night I was in a local bar (no one ever carded me) when a buddy of mine came over and sat down.
"We need to talk," He started.
"Fuck off," I responded and returned to my shots.
"Lola was never faithful."
"What the hell do you mean Greg (not his real name)?"
He paused, took one of my shots, and then sighed. "She didn't just sleep with Isaiah. She slept with four other people all while you two were together. She also tried to sleep with me."
That was a bad moment. You ever have a moment when you feel like the entire world is staring at you? Laughing at you? That no one at the very moment could possibly understand the emotions running through your system? That was my moment. Everything went dark.
I drank the next few months away. I worked, went to school, and even talked to my family, but I was never sober.
I mentioned that Lola and I were apart only for a little while. The month of graduation, we got back together as bed buddies. I was stupid again. There was, of course, a hidden agenda. She wanted me to help her move out of her apartment. I refused. She sent her father, who had once told me he didn't like me, to my apartment to ask for my help. Then her mother came. I buckled. And when all was said and done, I expected (and see this is the problem. I expected things. I hoped for things. It never works that way.) a thank you and a good bye hug. That's it. With her parents in the running car, Lola turned to me and said, "Well...have a good life." Then she hops in the car, and they take off. I screamed down the street, "Go fuck yourself, bitch."
Oh, and remember when I mentioned that she would take one of the cats? When I brought this up, she stared at me and said, "But I don't like cats. I like kittens. Do you have a kitten for me?" It worked out ok, however, because I love my three boys, and they love me.
But the whole debacle stayed with me. I didn't sober up for a year (again, for another time).
This was a good lesson, however. It taught me alot about love, trust, and reading the signs. It's why I can now read people VERY well.
Still, it is better to have loved and lost....
Oh, and the picture? It's for emphasis. That's not my car.
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I think I will end it with just the one letter tonight. It's funny. I've been feeling very down lately, partially because someone reminded me of this whole period in my life. Perhaps instead of Ramblings tomorrow, I will talk more about my "lost period."
Peace be unto you.

The Secret of America's Darling

This explains SO much. No wonder she loves Tom Cruise. All of her energy and no need for sleep. Heck, she's even doing a "white person's" drug. This woman really knows how to reach out to her core audience.
Ok, I kid, but I still love the photo.

Best Defense

You tell me how you would react to this:
You wake up and look over to see where your partner/spouse/bed buddy would be. Instead of a body, you see an empty space and blood. You wake up, and walk to your bathroom. Along the way you find a partial handprint made up of blood on a door. The bathroom door is closed, but you hear someone moving around in there, so you decide, "Hey, it must be my (whatever) and go and look. Inside you find that person with blood on their face and down their shirt.
What's your first reaction?
If you said laugh, then you and my wife have a lot in common.
My day has been odd and really not going very well from the moment I woke up.
This morning, after barely getting any sleep, I woke up to find that blood was streaming out of my nose. Not a great way to wake up. Sure, it beats waking up after wetting yourself (something that I and many others I know have done after drinking way to much), but it still sucks. You feel the warm liquid on your lips and taste it to find that saltiness.
First thing I did was grab a tissue and check the bed. Unfortunately I had bled on my pillow case (and blood is a giant pain to get out of things). Not wanting to wake up my wife, I made my way very groggily (it was very early in the morning folks) to the bathroom where I could clean up.
The blood coming out of my nose was going through the tissue and on to my hand. Now, in my house, the master bedroom is upstairs from the bathroom which is on the main floor. I have to navigate steps down and as I am slightly spooked and still groggy, I have to switch hands and use the railing. Here is the first bloody handprint. At the bottom of the steps is a door which, conviently, had been shut by one of my cats during the night. Pushing the door open left the second handprint.
When I turn on the lights in the bathroom, it takes a second for my eyes to adjust. At first, all I can see is a red mass on my face and shirt, but as the world comes into focus, I am quite shocked to see how much blood is on my face and shirt. It honestly looks like I bit into someone or something and let it bleed on me. Had I been more with it, I would have taken a picture (sorry I didn't). I end up staring at myself in disbelief. Worse yet...the bleeding hasn't fully stopped. As I lift my head and grab a new tissue (while pinching), I hear the footsteps coming toward me. My wife opens the door, looks at me, the shirt, and the bloody sink...and laughs. Now, I know why she does this, and I know if my mother reads this, she would be horrified, as this has happened before.
Mrs. Leab and I visited my mother in a previous fall. We were being taken around outside the house while my mother was explaining the various things she wanted to do with plants and bushes and such. To the left of one of the bushes is a covered well of sorts. See, part of the house is underground. It was built into a hill. The laundry room is about 15 feet below where we are standing, and the dryer is vented through this well (there's also a window for air). This well does have a covering, but it's not really designed to have a 200 pound man stand on it.
Long story short (too late) I take a bad step, the covering buckles, and I am now clutching the side of this well trying not to fall. My mother turns and is horrified. My wife...laughs. It's her defense mechanism. We all have one. Each of us reacts differently to tense situations. She laughs. I don't. It's very different for me. I don't think so much as react. There's a quick moment to assess what's going on around me and then I move. It's almost to logical...whatever. Anyway, the point is everyone reacts differently. I'm hanging there trying not to fall, and my wife can't move. She just laughs. After about three or four seconds, she is able to move and help my mother bring me up. To this day my mother still can't believe that happened. Not that I almost fell, but that my wife laughed.
So, she opens the door, sees me bleeding, and Mrs. Leab laughs. I know it means she's nervous, but I also know that if it were really serious, she wouldn't laugh...at least I hope she wouldn't.
"Honey, my hand has been cut off!"
"HAHAHAHAHA!"
That would suck.
I'm a very independent person. When I was in high school, I got a concussion by diving into a concrete wall (I was playing Ultimate Frisbee, and I was very competitive). I knew I was in trouble, but I didn't want anyone to touch me. Same when I hurt my knee, and the very same when I hurt my ankle.
Hell, when I was a Freshman in college, I dove off a ladder to save a light that was falling and was crushed underneath it (the light didn't break, however). There was another place where you could see how people react to tension. Two people laughed, one other gasped as if I had fallen 100 feet instead of 20. Lying there, my back in serious pain, I didn't want anyone to touch me. I couldn't move at first and my arms tingled, but I would be damned before anyone would help me get up. Was I possibly acting too macho? Looking back now, yeah, but it's also not wanting to be helped by others. Why? Control, most likely. I don't owe anybody then I'm on my own and not beholden.
As for today, my wife was shocked, but relieved I was ok. The bloody nose became the perfect symbol of my day (it didn't get much better, my day that is).
So how you react? Do you laugh? Do you act right away and think later (thus making you a good fireman)? What do you do? Hopefully you don't do what a former classmate of mine does and just sit on the ground. That's right. He would buckle his legs, move into a Half-Lotus position really quickly and just sit. Not good under pressure.
Have a peaceful weekend, folks.

Slander a la Leab (12/1/05)

Wow, I've only tried a few of these, but apparently the new "Slander" portion of the blog is very popular. I had several emails from people telling me who they want targeted next. I also received a few emails from people telling me to be ashamed of myself for targeting "a good Minnesota family."
You know...when I moved to Minnesota, I was told people here had a GREAT sense of humor. I'm starting to doubt that EVERYONE does. I think it's really a minority....And most of them are transplants. Maybe that's too harsh.
Let's get to tonight's Slanderama!
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A Prairie Throwdown!
As everyone in the Minnesota Blogoverse (and other places as well) are aware of, "Rex" of the fantastic blog of the year MNSpeak sold a shirt which made fun of local entertainer Garrison Keillor's beloved show. Now most people understand a joke is a joke, but for some reason Keillor and his Lake Woebegon Law Team (they bleed you dry, but apologize the whole time) decided to come after "Rex". This is old news.
However, The I.T. Team managed to be present at all of the legal proceedings between Mr. Sorgatz and Mr. Keillor. What we discovered will make promoters, fans, and Minnesotans everywhere salivate: The two men will settle the problem in the most ancient fashion known to man: A fifteen round boxing match. You heard it here first folks.
The fight has been signed by none other than that mogul of the mat: Don "Only in America" King.
On December 17, "Rex "the Titanium Typist" Sorgatz will battle Garrison "The Lake Woebegon Battler" Keillor. The fight will take place not at the Fitzgerald, but at the Target Center. Both men had to be talked into this neutral site as neither man really wanted to be in St. Paul.
Not since the battle between Wassily Kandinsky and Pablo Picasso has the world of art & literature been so abuzz about a feud between two of its members. One local blogger put it best: "This fight makes all the hip-hop feuds look tame. If these men owned them, they would bust out their gats and do it gangland style."
The fight has many noted Minnesotans talking. On his most recent podcast, Senator Norm Coleman stated, "Paul Wellstone will probably crawl out of his grave to watch this...it's that exciting."
Coleman quickly retracted that statement with a Kennedyesque "Er, um, uh."
When asked about the fight, Mr. King began speaking with his typical flamboyance:
"This could be the greatest fight in the history of the world. On the one hand you have the young upstart. A man whose sheer presence in the blogging world has changed the very face of the Internet. His opponent is a crafty veteran of both literature and drama. When you hear the name of Garrison Keilor, you immediately think of the slow drawl, the quiet town, and the upcoming movie (which I helped produce). ONLY IN AMERICA!"
When pressed about naming this fight, Mr. King got very contemplative.
"I don't know yet. I was originally thinking 'The Throwdown in Hometown', but too many people thought that was odd and misleading.
'The Fight in the Snow Blight' didn't really make sense either. Right now, I'm leaning toward 'The Hostility in the TC.' Then Mr. King spent the next 20 minutes speaking about Tyson and other things the I.T. team couldn't really understand.
It's important to note that Mr. Keillor has done everything he can to avoid this fight. A recent transcript was delivered to the I.T. Team by none other than...Woody Harrelson. The man who will be portraying "Lefty" in the upcoming Prairie Home Companion movie came forward with a proposition that Mr. Keillor made to him:
GK (Keillor): How would you like to get a...bigger part in this movie?
WH (Harrelson): What would I have to do?
GK: There's a gentleman in this town causing me...anguish. I want him...removed. Would you be willing to do it?
WH: Mr. K, I don't know what you think I am. I'm just an actor...and a part-time activist.
GK: Look...I want Mr. Sorgatz taken down for what he did.
WH: Uh....Yeah....What did he do?
GK: He sullied the good name of Prairie Home Companion!!!
WH: I think I have to go, sir....
Mr. Harrelson has also indicated that Mr. Keillor has also hired a bunch of thugs he christened "The Lake Woebegon Bullies."
Get your tickets now, folks, because this fight is going to be one for the ages.

Fun With Lists (Part Deux) 11/30/05

Ok, so Meridita had this list on her site, so I figured I would answer it here. This is tough, because it makes me have to open up, which...I'm not so good at...seriously.
Do you have any:
Allergies: Pollen
Phobias: Nope
Irrational fears: That my wife will wise up and leave me.
Siblings: Two older sisters
Girlfriends: I have in the past. Umm...married now. I have friends who are girls though...that count?
Pets: Three boy cats (all 8 years old).
Tattoos: No Comment
Friends you don't like: Yes, unfortunately.
Pet peeves: Talking in movie theatres, bad driving, bad sports ettiquette, bad manners, total ignorance
Have you ever been:
Arrested: Yup. Thanks alot Pope John Paul II
Engaged: Si.
Married: Currently so. Five years in March
Abroad: Yup. Europe, Canada, and the Caribbean
Hospitalized: Yup. It sucks
Heartbroken: Sigh. Yes. It was very bad.
In a fight (of the physical variety): Yes. A few times. I used to have a VERY bad temper. Most recently I threw down with a fellow Master's student.
What is your favorite:
Movie, Actor: This is WAY too hard. Movie: Hmmm, uh...I guess The Salton Sea...for now.
Actor: No idea.
Album, Musician: Also too hard. I'll go with Moby, 18.
Author, Book: Carter Beats the Devil.
Piece of art-work: Anything by Carravaggio.
Story to tell at a dinner party: There are alot. I've had a weird life. I could talk about my first date with my wife, or many others.
Story to tell on a first date: Swimming with Dolphins in the Galapagos, and how it relates to life.
Bar, locally: I seem to always end up at either Harvey's or The Independent.
City, in the country (and/or in the world): Hmm. Ok, in America: New York, hands down.
World Wide: Munich.
Describe:
Yourself, using ten adjectives: Humorous, loud, loving, introspective, philosophical, tired, eccentric, damaged, devoted, loyal
Your dream home: The Una-Bomber's Cabin...Ok not really.
Where you want to be in 5 years: Teaching high school possibly in somewhere other than Minnesota.
Where you think you will actually be in 5 years: Uh, probably teaching high school here and taking care of my child.
Your ideal partner: My wife. No one else I know has that much patience.
A time when you were most happy, or at peace: The first time I learned to meditate. I managed to shut it all off. The happiest? My first kiss with my wife.
The memory you wish you could forget: Walking in and catching my ex and her boyfriend in flagrante delicto.
The trait you most deplore in others: Ignorance
The trait you most deplore in yourself: Overt dependence on logic. Understanding of human condition (makes conversations hard).
There you go. Me, myself, and I in black and white.
Tomorrow, should nothing else go wrong (knock on wood) Slander a la Leab.
I hear a rapping, a gentle tapping...on my chamber door....Nighty night.

Turkey Day Down

I know, it's now Wednesday night, and I haven't posted in a while. Sorry. To my E-migos, I apologize for my tardiness. To those of you who hate me, sorry to disappoint.

I have returned. Is this a good thing? I don’t know. I’m really tired. Faith said I should catch up on my sleep. I tried to, but at my in-laws’ house, that was never going to happen. However, I won’t bore you with my whining. Instead I think I will talk to you, dear reader, about my Turkey Day weekend. First of all, you’re probably wondering, “Hey, Leab, why isn’t this post a ‘Mail Monday’ post. Are you an idiot?” No. I know it’s Monday, but I didn’t really get any questions in my mail. I got hatemail, but that’s no fun when it isn’t in question form (seriously). Because of this, Mail Monday was canceled this week in order to bring you “A Very Special Holiday Episode.”
My in-laws, as I have mentioned before, live in a small town in Missouri. There’s nothing really there. Want to go out? Well there’s Wal-Mart…or…uh…well, there’s a movie theatre there somewhere. The whole town is essentially a housing development. Rowhouses as far as the eye can see. This is the town where my wife grew up.
You have to understand. I like my in-laws. I get along with them really well usually. How? I avoid all subjects that we would either disagree on or argue about with each other. I probably have a peptic ulcer from all the thoughts I’ve kept to myself. This past trip, I almost bit through my tongue trying to hold it. Still, I like my in-laws. They are nice people.
I have never really been a fan of the holidays. It has nothing to do with family issues or any of that crap so many people like to say is the reason people like me hate this time. No, it’s because of the commercialization of it all. Friday (or as it’s known now: BLACK FRIDAY, and what the hell is that. When the market crashed, it was a black day, but now it’s a good thing? New century…I guess.) is all about shopping. Yes, Thanksgiving is still safe…for now. Give it time, folks.
My wife’s family essentially gets tipsy and attacks each other with verbal barbs. It’s supposed to sound innocent, but you can feel the malice. In order to avoid retorting, arguing, or even talking, I had to constantly drink. I had a large amount of wine. Did I get a hangover? Not even close. Ah…it’s great to be a former drunk.
This is how dinner went:
Food is served
Grace is said
Everyone splits up. The men go watch football, the women chat.
Football game gets boring so the channel is changed to Fox News thus making it harder for me not to argue.
Now, you may be a hardcore Conservative, or just a Republican reading this thinking “Wait Leab, what’s wrong with Fox News? Are you a Pinko-Liberal or a Democrat?”
Here’s your answer: It’s not about my political affiliation. I'm not Republican (I'm not Democrat either, but that's not the point).
It’s about the fact that my in-laws are all Evangelical Conservatives. They are WAY over to the right. They make the Exile look like a Democrat. I’m not kidding. Here are some examples from the weekend:
If you say all politicians are corrupt (as my wife did), the response is, “No they aren’t. It’s only the Democrats. Republicans have everyone’s best interests at heart. You should not talk that way.” (SO NOT KIDDING.)
John McCain is now known as Traitor John. Period. No discussion.
If a Democrat is slandered on TV, it’s true. If a Republican is slandered, it’s the Democrats acting like children.
Nixon may have been framed.
That’s just a few.
My father-in-law likes to talk about what he would do if he were, “dictator for a day.” Actually he says, “Fuerher,” but…uh…yeah.
The best part of the weekend? Well, that would be when my wife mentioned that my father officiated a civil ceremony for two gay men. That did not go over well. My father is now considered “a traitor,” to the Republican Party. Apparently no self-respecting Republican would do that.
Now I have no problem with them attacking me. I have no problem when they question my wife about why she married me (“I mean his political and religious views…Come on!”), but you don’t attack my family. I explained I was proud of my father.
This touched off a skirmish. Not a war, not a battle, just a skirmish (I eventually backed off and left the room). Here’s what I learned from my in-laws:
-Homosexuality is a choice. If a 16 year old kid thinks he or she is gay, they’re really just confused, or they hate God. In fact, the downfall of America apparently coincides with the rise in Homosexuality. If there were fewer gays, the country would be stronger.
-It is because of teachers and public schools for teaching Sex Ed that teenagers are having sex younger and younger. That’s right. If Sex Ed wasn’t taught, then kids wouldn’t have sex. That’s the argument. If Sex Ed weren't taught there would also be fewer Homosexuals.
-John McCain is a traitor to the Republican Party for speaking out against torture. Traitor John, ladies and gentlemen. Traitor John.
This was all in one sitting. Oh, and I’m affecting my wife in a very negative fashion, because she now believes that all politicians are corrupt.
The other highlight for me: My mother-in-laws reasoning to not go to the movies: “People talk. It’s so annoying. You want to watch the movie but some person is sitting there talking away.” So, we watch Elf at the house. What does she do the whole time? TALK! She talked through the whole movie. I finally asked her to stop, because she was driving me nuts. She was describing all the actions, asking questions, and talking about things that nothing to do with the movie. “Oh that reminds me, two weeks ago I was going through the laundry when….”
Sigh. I could have seen the Johnny Cash movie or any other film, but alas, I was not allowed to go alone (so said my wife).
Let me say it again. I like my in-laws. We get along with each other (usually). Partially due to the fact that we can talk to each other and partially due to the fact that we avoid topics we’ll argue over. I get along with them (usually better than this). They treat me very well, and they have told my wife (or at least she says they have) that she couldn’t have married any better. They’re good people. We just have different views about the world. That’s normal.
Before you say anything, my wife’s relationship with my family is a little different. It’s less about arguing about different viewpoints and more about trying to figure out what the hell are my parents talking about (that’s the problem when two genius Bibliophiles talk to the each other: No one knows which way is out). That being said, if my wife disagreed with my parents’ P.O.V, she would be allowed to argue and not be made to feel as if she was a bad person (or un-American).
And if you have to question how I know I love my wife then listen to this: I’m returning to Missouri for Christmas. That’s right, my family gets no holiday this year…and my mom…not so happy about that.
Still, for all the downsides of this Turkey Day, I’m still grateful that I was able to be with my wife. She makes all the little things that drive me nuts vanish with a hug and a kind word.
That’s love in my opinion.
In the end I know what this is really about: The differences in people. I don't blame my in-laws for anything, and I don't think they're stupid for having different opinions. We are different. I celebrate it. Sure, it drives me insane, but my father put it best: "Sam Rayburn once said, 'You get along by going along, and you go along by getting along.' Do you understand?"
I do, Dad. I may not agree with my in-laws beliefs or politics, but I respect them for sticking to their guns and for being able to laugh with me. I also thank them for giving me permission to marry their daughter.
Peace.

Slander a la Leab (11/22/05)

Ok, so I won't be around to post until Sunday night. However, I figured because so many of you actually responded to my attempt at slander (shows you how much people miss you, Slanderizer), I would do it again.
Hope you enjoy this week's entry:
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Sinister Truths Revealed at Photo Shoot

The September issue of Mpls St.Paul Magazine featured an article about Minnesota News Anchors (and lovebirds) Frank Vascellaro and Amelia Santaniello. Beyond the beautiful shots of their home, a few secrets were revealed when the I.T. Team showed up to watch the shoot. A few tidbits are now revealed (thanks to the court lifting our "gag.":
Amelia talked about “needing her chiropractor,” to get through the day. “Chiropractor,” is in fact a code-name for her drug dealer. He meets her every Thursday just outside of the WCCO news building, where she gets a combination of Vicodin and Cocaine.
Frank is an alcoholic. He talked about the fact that he can’t live without, “the quick-pull wine opener.” Careful observation (and snooping through garbage) discovered that Mr. Vascellaro drinks three bottles of wine a day. That’s right, a day. Even during the shoot, Frank was “reeking of merlot” according to the photographer, and he needed a break to throw up in the sink behind him.
Amelia, all the while, just tapped her feet and muttered something about her chiropractor.
Because of the couple’s crazy schedule, they keep a full team (about 5) of Colombian refugees in their basement as slaves. At one point, one of the twins (Joe) spilled cereal on the floor, after being told (by Frank), “You know the punishment for insubordination,” the basement door opened and what appeared to be two under-fed people wearing rags on their bodies and collars around their necks started sweeping the floor.
Joe and Francesca are not the couple’s kids. In fact the twins are actually the offspring of two of the Colombian slaves. When her real mother appeared to start cleaning, Francesca tried to run away from the table. What the viewers couldn’t see was that Frank had her tethered to the table. She couldn’t get to her mother even if she tried. We knew not to intercede, because the couple warned everyone visiting their house that attempts to free the children, “will be met with serious repercussions. Don’t make us call 'The Don' down here.”
The couple’s “first child” (also known as Sam) is, in fact, not a child. He is a 32 year old little person named Emilio. He poses as the couple’s son in exchange for food, a green card, and the occasional hooker.
Anyone who wants to see the couple’s home should approach it with caution. Frank, not wanting attention when off the news set, hired an ex-marine to lay down booby traps for anyone who approaches the perimeter. So far only Amelia's father wasn't ready.

Happy Thanksgiving

Ok boys and girls.
I'm leaving for Missouri.
I hope you all have a fun Thanksgiving.
I will return with mail on Monday.
Until then, may your days be easy, may your love be plenty, and may you be happy, healthy, and wealthy.
I.T.

Too Far?

Hmmm.
Did I perhaps go too far with my slander for Thursday? Will people understand that it's JUST A JOKE?
You tell me.
I've already gotten one email (yeah, I'm skipping school today as I have a long drive ahead of me) saying that it was, "a little over the line." Then again, I got another email saying, "It was pretty funny."
Either way, it's just a joke.
Here are some random thoughts this morning:
-It MUST have been a slow sports day yesterday. With all the basketball games (college or pro), the hockey games, and the college football games, Sportscenter still had President Bush pardoning Marshmallow as one of its top plays for the day. Now forgive me for being...slow, but when did a politician saying, "Ok, turkey, you get to live (think Dirty Harry)," constitute a sports moment? Seriously. Were players SO bad yesterday you couldn't find one more highlight. I've mentioned this problem in a previous post. When I was a kid, I used to watch Sportscenter every night before I went to bed (yes it was late, my family is a bunch of nighthawks). They had class. I would watch guys like Dan Patrick and Keith Olbermann give the scores with the occasional joke. Now it's almost all jokes with the occasional score. What's next? Will they start showing Bush or other politicians signing documents?
"He's looking for the pen. Time is running out. He's going to go with the blue pen, which he calls 'Binky' according to friends. He's over the paper, and he lays the smackdown to that bill."
No?
Maybe it's just me.
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-Minneapolis was named the 34th most dangerous city in America. I find that absolutely fascinating. Maybe it's because I grew up on the East Coast, but I always thought of the Midwest as this quaint, safe place. Hell, when I told people I was moving to Minnesota, they said, "Oh, that's a really safe place. It has to be too cold to commit a crime."
Yet, now Minnesotans are afraid to walk around Block E as so many people have been beaten or robbed. Now, I've lived in St. Louis, which wasn't so bad. The thing that drags St. Louis down (or puts them so high on the list: 3) is East St. Louis which is technically in Illinois, but whatever. It's a hell hole. It's so bad that John Carpenter shot Escape From New York there because, "It looked like it had been hit by the Apocolypse." This was in the 80s folks. It hasn't gotten better yet. When I was in college, a girl I know had her car stolen, and it was dumped in East St. Louis totally stripped. Not a good day for her. The rest of the area? Pretty nice.
Then again, I've never been one to be afraid of walking or going somewhere. When I was five years old, I left my parents' apartment and walked through New York a few blocks to see them at their restaurant. There are parents I know, including mine, who are slightly horrified by that story. They think, "You were damn lucky. Today, you'd be stolen."
It's not just there. Both my sisters were mugged in almost the same spot in San Francisco. Not me. Maybe it's because I'm a guy, or maybe it's because I look crazy (beard, scruffy hair, kinda big, muttering to myself), but people leave me alone. I'm the guy who can walk down the center of a sidewalk, because everyone will move out of my way. On a really bad day, I can make people cross the street instead of walking by me. That's not bad for a white guy.
It's just fascinating to me that Minneapolis, which to me is quaint, is on the same list with Detroit, Cleveland, Compton, and more. That's all.
Ok, that's it for now.
See you all later.

Ramblings for the Evening (11/22/05)

Warning, there is a great deal of swearing in this post. You've been warned. Now you can't sue. HA!
And so Turkey Day creeps toward us. I'm almost counting the minutes until my wife and I hop in the car and drive those long, flat seven hours through Iowa into Missouri until I reach the tiny town of Raymore. If you've never heard of it...don't fret. Most people haven't. The only thing it's really known for is a golf course that a lot of Minnesota business people like to play.
I like my in-laws, don't get me wrong. It's just...well...they're born again Baptists. It's gotten better in the last couple years, but.... Let's just say I don't EVER talk about politics around them...or God...or anything that 's going to cause arguments. If I argue with them, I won't end until someone dies, and I don't think my wife will forgive me for killing her dad.
Sigh.
Ok, let's get to it.
So, without further ado: YOU EEEEEDDDDDIOOOTTT! (That's for Michele)
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Damn Minnesota Drivers!!!!!:
Look, I get it. People in this state cannot drive, but somehow it's getting worse. Today I saw a woman not look to her right when she pulled out. She has a stop sign, I don't. I'm doing 40, and she's on a cell phone. Without even looking to see if I'm coming, she pulls out. I end up hitting my horn and shooting around her. (Here's where it gets good.) This woman speeds up and gets on my tail, then she hits me with her brights and honks. Is this the end of it? Hell no. She follows me for four miles until I stop at a gas station, gets out of her car, and proceeds to yell at me WHILE STILL ON HER CELLPHONE. That's right, whoever she was talking to got to listen while this woman berated me about cutting HER off. I'm sorry, I always thought that a stop sign meant YOU STOP WHILE I PASS BY, JACKASS!
Now, as you may or may not remember, dear reader, I haven't been sleeping, AND I've been stressed out. I did something I have only done once before: I decided to show this lady the full and awesome power of my anger. After listening to her yell at me for about a minute, I grabbed her phone from her hand, told the person on the other end, "She'll call you back later," took off the battery from the back and whipped it into the grass across the street. Then, before she could say anything, I said, "Listen you stupid cunt. YOU cut ME off back there. You never even looked to see me coming. I'm sorry that God didn't grant you any fucking brains OR looks, but the very fact that you were ON THE PHONE and DIDN'T LOOK is the real problem. People like you are the reason why GOD INVENTED ABORTION, BITCH! You better step the fuck off before I go into my car, grab my bat and show your car what it would have looked like if I hadn't been a good driver. Ok? The best part? The guy on the other side of the pump started clapping. This wasn't the end, however. The woman then said, "You threatened me. And you broke my phone. I'm calling the police and sueing your ass."
I was ready for this.
"Go ahead. I will ask them to get your cell phone records for the time. It will show that were on the phone and not paying attention to the road. THEN, I will counter sue for emotional damage and for a frivolous lawuit. I WILL BLEED YOU DRY. And then, when your homeless and having to explain to your children why you live in a box, I will show up and give them money with explicit instructions to leave you in that box. And finally, when you're dead, I WILL PISS ON YOUR GRAVE. Any questions?"
Did I overreact? Oh very much so. I could also tell by this woman's expression that she was not ready for any of this. I asked her again if she was going to call the cops. She said no. I apologized to her for screaming, to which she apologized back for not paying attention. I suggested that she get a hands-free set and to not follow people anymore. "When you follow a person, it usually puts them on edge."
My wife thinks I overreacted way too much, and I'm lucky I wasn't killed. I just want people in this state to learn to drive correctly.
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He's got X-Boxelitis: (or this one's for DeRusha)
So I had three classes today. The breakdown was as follows: 39 in first hour, 34 in second, and 27 in fourth. Total that's 100 kids. Now, the kids actually there were: 27 in first, 24 in second, and (drumroll) 15 in fourth. That means I had only 66 out of 100 kids or 2/3. Another way to put it is 33% were missing. Wait, it gets better. Out of 33 kids, 15 were out for vacation or being sick or just plain skipping for some reason. 18 kids were out with their new X-Box 360s. How do I know these 18 kids were out with X-Boxelitis? Let's see, yesterday a few of them told me they wouldn't be in, others left notes. THEY LEFT NOTES!
Mr. Leab,
I won't be in today, because I was able to get an X-Box 360. Timmy brought my homework, so please make sure it's added to my grade.
Have a great Thanksgiving,
James
(Names have been changed to protect the stupid.)
Come on people. It's JUST a video game machine. It can't solve world hunger, and for God's sake, it won't help you get through high school. Sure, it helps you blow off steam, but you couldn't make it two more days until break?
Then again, how many people will out with some sort of mysterious ailment tomorrow?
If students put in as much energy to their homework as they did avoiding school, their lives (and my life) would be easier.
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World's Ugliest Dog Dies:
No one cries. Wonder why that is? Could it be because the dog looked like it had been reanimated through a voodoo curse? Seriously, look at this dog and tell me I'm wrong.
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Random Insomnia Thought:
I thought of a great argument for a classroom. Maybe it's been done, I don't know, but here it is:
Was George Orwell actually a prophet when it came to where the government was going and what it would do, or did he give certain people the ideas on how to control the people.
In essence, was he a visionary, or the cause of the problem?
On the one hand, I could see how people look at Orwell and say, "Wow, in the 1950s he was talking about the government controlling people's thoughts and (shock of shocks) lying to us. That's insane." But don't you think it's more likely that a few people read 1984 and said, "That would WORK! Now, how can I push the government that way?" Seriously.
Or is it just me?
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Rivalries Go TOO Far:
This past weekend was rivalry weekend in College Football. Now, before you say, "Who the hell cares, Leab!" hear me out. In Alabama, a couple of guys at a frat party on the Alabama campus were stabbed for wearing Auburn colors. Alabama takes it's football super-duper seriously. (Right, Sherye?) It's not the only place, however. A guy in Ohio was grabbed by three men and thrown out a window for wearing Michigan colors. Hell, it's happened to me too.
When my wife and I moved to Minnesota, we drove from Michigan (where we worked the summer after graduation) across Wisconsin. Our Ryder truck was a lemon and we had to stop and spend the night in Madison. Unfortunately for me, it was Saturday, a rivalry week, and Wisconsin was playing against Michigan. Why is that a problem? I was wearing dark blue. So, Mrs. Leab and I duck into an Applebee's for dinner. Everyone, and I do mean EVERYONE, is wearing red, and there I am wearing blue. I was threatened, I had a beer dumped in my lap, and one guy threw a quarter at my head. I never said I was a Michigan fan, I just had the colors on in the wrong place. Our lemon Ryder truck, which had Michigan plates, was also tagged with Wisconsin colors (probably from a spray can). Not a good night, folks.
It's getting worse. People take the rivalries SO far that parents won't speak to children, brothers and sisters fight, and worse, husbands and wives leave the house. One guy I know went to Virginia, and his wife went Virginia Tech. Every year, when the schools meet, the loser from the previous year has to go a hotel for the weekend. I'm not kidding. Either he or she goes to a hotel from Thursday night until Sunday afternoon. That's rough and kinda crazy. Yes, the term fan was born from fanatic, but there has to be line. Stabbing someone? Crosses the line. Kicking out your spouse? Crosses the line. Pouring beer on a guy you don't know? Well that's why you paid my tab (the waitress went to Michigan...hehehe).
And finally:
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Hello Anger, My Old Friend... (A la Simon & Garfunkel...anyone?)
I've been feeling angry again. This is a time of year when we're supposed to be humane with each other, but more and more I see people not caring. I watched an old woman ask two people for help before a third person came over and pulled down an item for her from the top shelf at Byerly's. I saw a kid tell her mom, "who cares about them? It should be about me."
It just depresses me.
Worm talked about people with broad shoulders. The difference is that I can't just go through the motions. I can't just nod and give the pat answer. I wish I could. Even when the person is a complete stranger (like everyone who talks to me on planes), I fully listen.
I can't really explain it.
Ah screw it.
If you see me on WCCO holding a stick of dynamite, remember two things:
1. My left side is my good side and
2. I only talk to J.D.
Ok, maybe I won't be that extreme.

Mail Mondays (11/21/05)

What a horrible day. This isn't about insomnia, this is about things not going right. But, because it's Monday, the problems will have to wait until tomorrow (or I may not talk about them. I don't know, I don't want this to be a blog about "oh woe is me." That just feels wrong).
As for mail, it's been a thin week. I'll respond to what I got.
Oh, and before I start, I want to apologize to Michele for not making it to the blogger gathering. I still owe you a drink.
Mail time.
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Leab,
Are you making fun of Mounties?
Our cops can at least catch the criminals.
At least we aren't jelly donut-eating idiots, eh?
You better be careful in the future.
A Loyal Canadian

ALC,
Sigh, I'm going to assume you're from Alberta. Many Canadians from Alberta seem to lack...how should I put this...humor. If you go back and look at the post, you'll see the whole thing was a joke. Can malls talk? No.
Look, if I really wanted to make fun of the RCMP, I would talk about Ren and Stimpy (Royal Canadian Kilted Yaksmen, anybody?), or I would talk about the fact that THE DISNEY CORPORATION USED TO OWN THE MOUNTIE IMAGE! Don't believe me? Here it is in black and white. To use the image, they had to pay Disney. Can you imagine?
"We need a few more cars, eh? How much is that gonna cost? I'm getting a skull cramp....Someone call Mr. Eisner and find out how much we owe...and get it in Canadian, eh?"
Ok, but seriously, I like the RCMP. When I was working at the Tobacco Document Depository, I was assigned to work with the RCMP. Apparently they were doing research for several cases up in Manitoba. Nice guys (and they were all guys). We ended up going out one night for beer. That's when I heard all about how Canadian beer is better than American beer (an argument my brother-in-law brings up almost everytime I see him).
I'm not knocking the RCMP. I just thought that a strip club called "Mounties" would be a great double-entendre. That's all.
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I.T.
Rap is crap. Period. You can't compare it to country music. All rappers care about are killing each other, taking their "bling-bling", and "bitches." At least country music has redeeming qualities.
Angry Country Fan
(Author's Note: I didn't put in the whole letter as the rest of it is just ripping on me and the site. Apparently, I'm an Un-American idiot with multiple problems...I love this country).

Ok, ACF. Let's get to the root of the problem.
I could easily start and say you're a racist, but that's not the point, and I don't think you are. I think the problem is that you are looking at two or three people and saying, "Wow, this is all of that genre. Everyone is like that." Yup, you're generalizing. I could do the same thing with country. There's a song, for example, called "I Wish I Were A Woman (So I Could Go Out With A Guy Like Me)" Hmm. If I generalize than I can say that all Country music is about gay men. A man wants to be a woman to date himself? Woman trapped in a man's body? Homosexual.
Do I really believe this? No, but you get the idea about generalizing.
Sure, there are some rap songs dealing with pimps, killing, etc, but there are also songs that are affirming. Country is the same way. We all tap our foot to the Dixie Chicks while they sing about killing a man. Sure he was a wife-beater, but it's still murder.
In all honesty, most rap fans couldn't care less about country and vice versa. Sure, you have guys like Big and Rich singing about, "bling-bling" (which to me is proof a word is no longer cool and probably dead when it's used in a Country song), but that doesn't mean you're going to have a ton of African-Americans at a Garth Brooks concert. Look at last year's NBA All-Star game. They had Cowboy Troy and Big and Rich perform. When they cut to the crowd, who was jamming to the music? The white folk. Who was looking around wondering what the hell was going on? Mostly the black folk.
It's hard not to generalize, I know, but we have to work on it. Otherwise I'm going to get called an asshole a great deal more.
Then again what do I know? I'm the ultimate villain in the world: A white, middle-class man (who likes all sorts of music). I could be wrong.
Tomorrow we'll have ramblings and a quick note for Wednesday, then...I'm off to the in-laws.