Somewhere between summer and fall

Fall came suddenly to Alabama this year. Not with its usual tap-on-the-shoulder, whisper-in-your-ear hint of a chill in the air. But rather much more pronounced. Thanks to Tropical Storm Lee, temps went from 97 to 60 in what seemed like a day.

I spent the Labor Day weekend as I believe it was intended: avoiding labor at all costs. Monday night, I put on a sweatshirt and watched the sun set over the lake. The sky was perfect. The wind coming off the water brought a bit of a chill. I lingered for awhile, not wanting the summer to be over.

Of course, it'll be back. Probably this weekend. But now only in shorter bursts and smaller and smaller pieces until it's gone for good.

And so I spend the week trying to both embrace the coming autumn and cling to the fading summer.

I watch all the football I can -- even those ESPN high school games-- unable to get my fill. But I'd love to get to the beach for one final summer fling.

I turn off the AC and roll down the windows to go out in the crisp evening air. I think of putting on a long-sleeved shirt for the drive, but opt for a plain white t-shirt and one more day of flip-flops instead.

And somehow it all seems to suit me.

There's an easiness to the days now. Memories abound in even the slightest autumn breeze. But that's OK. I like remembering. And though the days are noticeably shorter, and I know the winter won't be far, it doesn't worry my mind. For now, for today, it seems OK to just be.

I leave you today with this most disturbing poll.

Rolling Stone's Ten Worst Songs Of The '90s:

10. 4 Non Blondes - "What's Up?"
9. Right Said Fred - "I'm Too Sexy"
8. Baha Men - "Who Let The Dogs Out?"
7. Celine Dion - "My Heart Will Go On"
6. Hanson - "MMMBop"
5. Chumbawamba - "Tubthumping"
4. Vanilla Ice - "Ice Ice Baby"
3. Billy Ray Cyrus - "Achy Breaky Heart"
2. Los Del Rio - "Macarena"
1. Aqua - "Barbie Girl"

Umm, apparently we have very different definitions of the word "worst." As I have at least half those on my iTunes. And I'm pretty sure I had a couple of those cassette singles.

Also, I'd completely forgotten about 4 Non Blondes! Just went and downloaded it. Thanks, Rolling Stone.

"Lately I've learned how to listen, for a sound like the sun goin' down. In the magic the morning is bringin', there's a song for the life I have found..."

The pilot

You guys really have me thinking about this reality show idea. I've been trying to figure out who I would get to narrate it. While Bill Curtis might seem like the obvious choice initially, I'm afraid he might be a bit too dramatic. You know, for a reali-com. (I just invented that term.)

I'm thinking maybe Mark-Paul Gosselaar. After all, he is the man who gave me the best nine minutes of my life. Also, just once I'd like for him to call me "Preppy." Of course, I'll need a backup plan in case he's unavailable. And if finding a narrator for my own reality show is anything like finding a date for senior prom, I'll need three or four backup plans.

While I continue to ponder this, as well as possible title ideas, I've decided to do a test run to see what an episode of the Bone reality show might include. Today I will be doing a written storyboard, if there is such a thing, of Bone's Thanksgiving Week. Consider this sort of a faux-pilot, purely for my benefit. As well as any TV execs who might be reading.

Today's episode of A Show With No Name begins with Bone on his way to pick up Nephew Bone for a trip to Chuck E. Cheese on Tuesday evening. The action quickly turns exciting as Bone sees blue lights in his rear-view!

As "Theme Song From The Dukes Of Hazzard" begins to play in the background, a low-speed chase ensues, lasting approximately fifteen seconds, until Bone is able to safely pull into the parking lot of a nearby bank. The officer approaches the car. What will the charge be? Another speeding ticket? Hit-and run? Texting while driving? (This is where we'd cut to commercial for added suspense.)

Turns out Bone was guilty, allegedly, of that most heinous of traffic offenses: following too closely. Are you kidding me? That doesn't even make a good story. It's embarrassing to even tell. In fact, just forget I said anything. We're gonna have to seriously edit this part to make it exciting.

Less than an hour after his latest run-in with the popo, Bone is spotted across town laughing it up at the aforementioned nightspot playing the football toss game. So adept is he at tossing mini-footballs through the little holes that he eventually runs the game out of tickets. At the prize counter, Nephew Bone chooses a lizard and some (temporary) gangsta tats, while Bone opts for some Pop Rocks.

Bone's athletic exploits continue to be on display in our next scene, as we see him at home -- alone -- playing Wii. After a couple of hours, he sets a new personal best by Wii bowling a 279! Then he remarks aloud, "If only Walter Way Williams could see me now!" Um, is Bone aware no one else is in the house? In other news, Bone's right shoulder is quite sore for about four days.

Next it's time for Thanksgiving with the Bones, a great opportunity for viewers to meet the Bone family. If you're wondering why everyone is shouting, it's because Daddy Bone doesn't have his hearing aid today. After breakfast at Daddy Bone's and before supper at Momma Bone's, Bone enjoys a Thanksgiving lunch of chips and salsa in his modern, yet practical bachelor pad. He dozes off and much like the rest of America, misses the second half of the Patriots/Lions game.

This week's episode ends on the highest of highs. It's Saturday night and Bone is home alone again, which is peculiar for sure. We see him at his computer, looking to spend the rest of the $25 iTunes gift card he received last Christmas. In the show's emotional climax, he discovers that iTunes has added "Hands To Heaven" by Breathe! At long last!

Bone is seen swaying back-and-forth in his office chair while singing along as the camera fades.

Executive Producer: Charles Rosin

"So raise your hands to heaven and pray, that we'll be back together someday. Tonight I need your sweet caress, hold me in the darkness. Tonight you calm my restlessness. You relieve my sadness..."

In a summer swelter

I think I finally understand what that song means. Well, that line anyway. Well, that part of that line. If ever was a summer swelter, we are in it. All except for the minor detail that it's not quite yet officially summer. I golfed yesterday, was already glistening with sweat on the first hole, and by the end of the round my shirt was like you had dipped it in water.

We're in another one of those stretches of twenty days of temps in the nineties and heat indexes normally reserved for the surface of Mercury. I have a standard line that I use in times like these: "Cold enough for ya?" It gets a laugh like a tenth of the time, but it's a decent conversation starter. OK, maybe decent is too strong a word there.

Of course, leave it to me to get a cold in the midst of all this. How does that even happen? I caught it on a Wednesday night and kicked it by the following Tuesday.

Being sick did give me additional time to realize there is nothing to watch on TV. Not any sports I'm very interested in. Not a Newhart rerun. Nothing. Just the World Cup. When is that over? I want my ESPN back. I can get into pretty much any sport you throw out there -- curling, Australian Rules Football, I've even watched the National Scrabble Championships. But soccer? I'm sorry, it's just not happening. Oh well, just 77 more days 'til football season. And I'll be asleep for like 15 of those.

I wish I could blame my being sick for my lack of blogtivity. But let's face it, I've been mentally lamenting -- if that's possible -- the excruciatingly slow death of my blog for awhile now. I want to write, but either I have no inspiration or I get sidetracked playing Family Feud on Facebook while singing along to Rob Thomas on iTunes. (I can't believe I just admitted that. The Family Feud part, I mean.)

I need discipline. Someone to say, "Bone, you can't go out to play until you've done your homework." By "go out to play" I mean "retreat further from social interaction by playing games online." And by "done your homework" I mean "written for thirty minutes."

I thought about re-instituting my Blogtober rules for June, but decided I'd wait until at least August, as Blogust sounds better than... well, whatever Blog-plus-June would be. On the other hand, Blogust also sounds a little like one of the ten plagues.

We shall see. Meanwhile, if you Boggle online, hit me up. I'm "Bone" or "Roll Tide" on the 4x4 board.

Finally, I'd like to close today with a Father's Day anecdote. I had contacted Dad's wife earlier this week for some possible ideas for Father's Day gifts, hoping maybe to surprise him. That went something like this:

"Have you heard him say anything he might want or need for Father's Day?"

"Yeah, there are a couple of things he's mentioned."

Alright! I'm thinking. She continues.

"The band on his underwear tore the other night and he was going to buy some new ones but I told him Father's Day is coming up and the kids might get you some."

Short pause to wait for response. There is none.

"He wears the white briefs."

"OK. Anything else?"

"He also needs some of the Mach 3 razor blades."

Sigh. OK, first of all, I'm not buying tightie-whities for anybody, especially not anybody related to me. Second of all, this is exactly the same thing Dad asked for last Father's Day, except I think he also wanted batteries last year.

As the week wound down, my sister and I were still void of ideas, so I decided to just call Dad and ask him directly if there was anything he wanted.

"Ya'll don't have to get me anything. Just keep being my kids." His usual response.

"Dad, it's Father's Day. You know we are going to get you something, just as we have every Father's Day, lo, these many years."

"Well, I guess I could use some new underwear. Mine's got holes in them."

Audible sigh.

"I wear the white briefs."

Yes, Dad, I am aware. Some of my most vivid childhood memories are of you walking around the house at night in ONLY those white briefs. Everyone's father does that, right? Actually, you know what, don't answer that.

"Alright. Is there anything else you can think of?"

"Oh, you know what, there is something else I need."

Finally! At long last!

"Ya'll can get me some of those Mach 3 razor blades."


"Man, it's a hot one. Like seven inches from the midday sun..."

All I am saying is, give curling a chance

I was all ready to share at considerable length the story of one man's struggle to survive sports purgatory for yet another year. You may recall sports purgatory is the barren wasteland of the sports year, lasting from the end of college football until the beginning of fantasy baseball, with a couple of oases included in the form of National Signing Day and March Madness.

Highlights were to include, and pretty much be limited to, iTunes adding Eddie Murphy's Party All The Time at long last! Though I know by mentioning that, I risk you rushing to the iTunes store immediately and never coming back.

But something happened on the way to that blog post. A new oasis emerged from the British Columbian countryside. And that something was the Olympics. Perhaps you've heard of them.

Oh, twas a shrewd move by Bob Costas to schedule the Winter Olympics right in the midst of this yearly sports abyss. It's like a get-out-of-purgatory-free card. And more thankful I could not be, as I've been able to add three hours of curling viewing and google-imaging Julia Mancuso to my daily routine of Wii and... breathing.

What? Let he who has never clicked to enlarge an image of Lindsey Vonn throw the first stone.

Speaking of throwing stones, is it just me or does curling seem to be on like five times as much as any other sport? I've watched so much curling that now when I close my eyes, all I can see are those curling rings -- green outer circle, white middle circle, and blue inner circle. They're etched in my brain.

I'm learning curling terms -- the button, the hack, in-turn, out-turn, guard, draw, freeze, peel, biter, in the house, and my favorite: shot-rock. One thing I really like about curling is that it's one of the few Olympic sports I could still possibly medal in at my age. Think about it, if I devoted my entire life to curling for the next four years... who knows? Although I tried playing a curling game I found online last week to help me learn the rules. Didn't help.

I actually had a 45-minute conversation about curling with Axl last night. I'm not sure I've ever had a 45-minute conversation about a single topic other than Alabama football in my entire life. Actually, scratch that. I just remembered my sometimes rather intense discussions about General Hospital with the Darryls.

Something I'm always curious about during the Olympics is where they find some of these announcers. They're experts on all these rather obscure sports, and fairly competent broadcasters as well. My question is, what do they do the other three years and fifty weeks between Olympics? I mean, is curling televised somewhere in the world year-round? And if so, how do I get that channel?

I prefer the sports where there is a tangible way of keeping score or time rather than the sports based on judging. I especially enjoy watching the splits as a skier or luger makes their way down the course, just a few hundredths of a second ahead or behind the leader. But while I enjoy watching the luge, I have no idea what makes one luger better than another. The luge announcer the other night was like, "Oh, he lifted his arm slightly in that turn. That's gonna cost him." What?

Another of the more interesting comments I've heard this Olympics was, "He started luging when he was ten." How does that even happen? Do they luge in gym class? Was the kid outside sledding with his friends one day when the Bela Karolyi of luge was driving by, saw the kid and spotted something special? Or is it like piano lessons, where the parents push the kid to luge even though he doesn't want to? "No, Ma. I don't wanna go down the icy track at eighty miles an hour." (For some reason, I just said that in an Eric Cartman voice.) "You'll luge and you'll like it! Now get in there!" Actually, that might make a good Lifetime movie, or ABC Afterschool Special. That is, if they had made ABC Afterschool Specials after 1996.

Finally, there is ice hockey. For reasons I'm not entirely sure of, ice hockey in the Olympics is the sport that makes me feel the most proud and patriotic. Maybe it's because we're never one of the favorites. And I'm sure it has something to do with the Miracle On Ice. Whatever it is, I was cheering and chanting as the United States skated to a 5-3 upset of Canada last night. "U-S-A! U-S-A!"

But the most inspirational story of these games had to be Wednesday night when Carrot Top -- who after a failed career as an aging comedian decided to take up snowboarding -- brought home gold in the half pipe.

Anyway, just a few more days until the games come to an end. At that point, it'll only be a month or so until baseball, which doesn't do a lot for me except that it also means fantasy baseball. Then at least I'll have my spreadsheets to keep me busy.

"My girl wants to party all the time, party all the time, party all the time..."

It takes effort to be this unproductive

Also known as "What I did tonight instead of Christmas shopping, writing Christmas cards, alleviating the nakedness of my Christmas tree, or anything else that might otherwise be deemed as productive."

I listened to iTunes. "Higher Love" by Steve Winwood came on. I googled it to see if it was "think about it" or "thing about it." I thought it was think, but also thought it could be thing. It turned out to be think, which is what I first thought.

While looking at the lyrics, however, I realized the chorus does not go "Great day of higher love!" Who knew?! All these many years I've been singing it wrong. Looks like somebody would have told me, instead of letting me look like an idiot.

I mean, if a woman is walking around with a little mini moustache, you don't just let it go and snicker behind her back. You say, "I think you gotta a little something on your lip there, ma'am... Oh! It's hair." Unless you're dating her, in which case you just have to pray someone else mentions it to her.

Otherwise, I practiced my skills at Yahoo pool. You know, because that's so much healthier than trying to go out and meet a girl or something.

I also watched a couple of Seinfelds, "The Rye" and "The Dog." I have a rule that I always stop if a Seinfeld is on TV, even though I have the DVDs. (Except for Seasons 8 & 9, which would be on my Amazon wish list if I had one.)

No fewer than fourteen times I looked out the window to see if it was snowing yet, because according to the weather people there was a 50 percent chance. "Up to an inch accumulation," they said. Of course, I never saw the first flurry. You'd think they would eventually luck up and get it right JUST ONE TIME. I mean, people win the Powerball. How hard could it be to close your eyes and predict snow?

Let's see, I know I must have done something else. I think the problem is I did so much, it's easy to forget some of it. Oh yes, now I remember. I heard a dog barking, so I cut off the lights and looked outside to see if there was a dangerous prowler or angry ex-girlfriend lurking. I'm basically a one-man Neighborhood Watch.

Ooo, I watched The Office! I think tonight was the best episode of the season so far. Here are a few random quotes, which may or may not mean something to you, largely depending on whether or not you watched the show:

"We are not going to support your alcoholism anymore. The next time you light yourself on fire, we are not going to help put you out."
"Ah, as fire marshal I would have to."

"Have you ever, under the influence of alcohol, questioned the teachings of the Mormon church?"

"I am not going to judge Phyllis for desecrating Christmas. There is one person who will though, and Phyllis just stuffed him into a drawer."

"Was John Belushi fine? Was Bob Hope fine?"

"Fire girl! ..... Too soon?"

OK, I must get to bed. Whoever knew there could be so much involved in doing nothing. May tomorrow be a great day of higher love for us all. Sorry, I just had to say it one last time. *sniff* I'll miss it.

"Think about it, there must be higher love. Down in the heart or hidden in the stars above. Without it, life is wasted time..."

The backwards entry

The weekend recapitulation has begun. Please remain seated and keep your eyes on the blog at all times. The ride is actually running backwards today, so we'll begin with today and end with Friday, just hitting the highlights.

(Note: All times are approximate.)

Right now: I'm looking at a plate with five grapes on it. I had a whole bunch, but one had a bad spot on it. Just leaving one didn't feel right, so I left five. A nice OCD-friendly number.

Thirty minutes ago: I went downstairs, got some grapes out of the refrigerator, washed them, put them on a plate, brought them upstairs and started eating them.

Thirty-one minutes ago: I started craving grapes.

Forty-five minutes ago: I wiki'd Dido. Did you know her real name is Dido Florian Cloud de Bounevialle O'Malley Armstrong? Sounds French-Irish. Also, she was born on Christmas Day, 1971. And she is supposed to have a new album coming out September 23rd.

Forty-five minutes and ten seconds ago: "White Flag" by Dido came on iTunes.

Four hours and fifteen minutes ago: I decided not to fold towels.

Four hours, fifteen minutes, and one second ago: I thought about folding towels.

An indeterminate amount of time ago, but still today: I watched a couple of old movies--Blackboard Jungle, with Sidney Poitier and Vic Morrow. And Alfred Hitchcock's The Trouble With Harry. They were both excellent. I love Turner Classic Movies!

Reverting back to the present (What? It's my blog, my rules): Christopher Cross just came on iTunes. I will not wiki him. I will not wiki him. But it's... really... hard.

Still present: Actually, that was kind of cool. It's like Back To The Future III, where they kept going back and forth in time and no one had any idea what was going on.

Still present, part III: OK, this is getting pretty long. So far, despite how exciting the Dido fun facts were, you've been on the uphill portion of the ride. Now, we're about to crest the hill. For the remainder of this entry, everything will go much faster, and you may or may not hear people screaming and small children crying.

One day ago, aka Saturday: Little Joe and I went to my friend Jamie's house on the lake. It was there that I fell off a jet ski for the first time in my life.

We were all three on it at the time. I was driving. Jamie was sitting between Little Joe and I, just to clarify. Her visor had blown off--due either to my fast and furious driving style or, more likely, a loose fit--and I had circled back around to look for it. We briefly discussed if and how long it might float. I thought about all the times I had seen the "Will It Float?" game on Letterman, and tried to remember if they ever used a cloth visor, but it seemed unlikely.

Reverting back to the present: Coincidentally, I caught the end of Hope Floats today on TV. "Birdee and Bernice, the coolest chicks in Smithville. So don't you ever think about leaving me again, because I need you." Sniff, sniff.

One day ago, picking up where I left off: It was about this same time that I began to ponder why the lifeguards on Baywatch didn't have jet skis. Not that I watched the show much... after Nicole Eggert left. But it seems to me they could have gotten to people a lot quicker on a jet ski, rather than just with that little orange floatie thing.

Anyway, we could talk about Baywatch all night. But back to our story. I located Jamie's visor and rescued it, and was feeling pretty good about myself. For about five seconds. When I tried to turn around to head back to the house, I turned a bit too sharply, and we all went over. It was actually fun. I'd do it again if I were still allowed to touch the jet ski.

Reverting to the present one last time: Christopher Cross' real name is Christopher Geppert. He recorded a new Christmas album that was released on iTunes last November. He won five Grammy Awards in 1981. But most importantly, he was mentioned in "The Millennium" episode of Seinfeld, where Newman reveals he booked Christopher Cross for his Newmannium party, which he started planning in 1978.

Two days ago, aka Friday: The Darryls were going out with a couple other people and invited me along, but I declined. Then I tried to hypnotize myself. I said, "When you wake up, you'll be exactly the same person you were before." You know, just in case.

This concludes your ride today on IYROOBTY. Please exit via the blogroll on the right and enjoy your stay in the blogosphere.

"If you get caught between the moon and New York City, the best that you can do, the best that you can do is fall in love..."

Un-format-ted

This post is brought to you by the iTunes Store. Now with 145 selections from Howard Jones. The iTunes Store, because after all, it's just money.

Today is Post Your Top Ten Most Played iTunes Day. OK, not really, but it could be. We could make it that. It's one of our inherent rights: life, liberty, and the permission to create obscure seemingly pointless holidays. You think the person who created International Talk Like A Pirate Day cared what people thought or that no one seemed to be observing or wearing a patch over their eye? Arrrgh! I think not, ye mateys.

There was a bit of sad news musically in the world of Bone recently. The Format broke up. I know what you're saying, "Bone, who is The Format?" Well, they were a band.

So in honor of The Format, and also to mark this newly created holiday, I present Bone's Ten Most Played iTunes.

1. She Doesn't Get It - The Format (57 plays)

Looking back now, the odds were enormously long that our paths would ever cross. I was flipping channels one night and for some reason, or more likely no reason at all, stopped on Carson Daly, which I never watch. And there they were.

To say the song they sang was catchy would be like saying Steve Jobs has done OK for himself. I dare you to listen to it and not have it stuck in your head. If you've not heard of The Format, don't worry. Not a single person I ever mentioned them to had heard of them previously.

Their relative anonymity combined with their recent breakup left me feeling a bit like a line in the song: "It never caught on. I was the only one who got burned."

2. A Long December - Counting Crows (42 plays)

I was a little late to the Counting Crows party, as Mister Jones came out while I was still in my skin-tight-Wrangler-wearing-heavy-country-music phase of the early nineties. (No, there will not be pictures.) But I'm here now. I've always been lyrically inclined, and these are amazing. One of my all-time favorite songs.

And some good news: They have a new album coming out March 25th.

3. Just Like Heaven - The Cure (41 plays)

The Cure always had great melodies. Here, the lyrics rise like a mountain to meet the friendly musical clouds, resulting in a wondrous skyscape of sonic perfection. A little aside: I had the cassette single for "Love Song." And by had, I mean, have.

4. All Your Reasons - Matchbox Twenty (40 plays)

You might think that when the new album came out, I did nothing but listen to it nonstop, over and over and over. Hmm... I forgot my point.

5. Loss, Strain, and Butterflies - Tabitha's Secret (37 plays)

This song has the distinction of having the single best line I've ever heard that I have no idea the meaning of: "Did you know with the rain in your pockets you can change the weather."

I ponder it for hours sometimes. So far, I've come up with 36 possible meanings. I think it may have its origins in one of the five houses of Zen.

6. Hey Jealousy - Gin Blossoms (36 plays)

So for like ten years I thought they were saying "Hate Jealousy." So what?

7. How Far We've Come - Matchbox Twenty (36 plays)

This would be much higher if you combined the number of plays with the number of times I watched the video online when it came out. Or no higher if you multiplied the number of plays by the number of people my age at their concert, which I roughly estimate to have been one.

8. Valerie - Steve Winwood (36 plays)

"Valerie, call on me. Call on me, Valerie." Brilliant.

9. American Girls - Counting Crows (35 plays)

I once sang this song at karaoke.

No, wait. That wasn't me. Come to think of it, it wasn't even this song.

10. You Could Be Happy - Snow Patrol (34 plays)

Here's a little known fact: They are #1 on my list of Favorite Bands or Artists with "snow" in their name. Just ahead of the guy who sang "Informer."

"I am reminded why I don't do this. I fall in love far too quickly. I never want her to forget me. When you're gone, will you call? Will you write?"