How I Roll

There are few absolute truths in an uncertain world. But perhaps this is one: You never forget your first.

How it felt to touch her. The nervousness and the uncertainty. Learning as you went. Realizing you could take her to places neither of you had been before.

I'm speaking, of course, of my first car.

It was February 1989. When I turned sixteen, my parents decided that I would get Mom's car and she would get something newer. So there it was, a black 1980 Chevrolet Monte Carlo. And it was all mine.

Sure, she had a few miles on her. How many, I'm not really sure, because the odomoter had broken long ago. But I knew it had power. A 3.8L V-6 under the hood. Vinyl seats. Wire wheel covers. (Stop drooling.)

I'll admit there were a couple of quirks, as there are bound to be with any old classic car. There was a slight hesitation problem with the accelerator. It did not exactly have the lightning fast response one would hope for. It took a little sputtering and three or four seconds before those 229 cubic inches of raw Motor City power would kick in.

The Carlo also featured an AM/FM radio with the always-popular-but-never-practical cassette player with fast forward only, no rewind. So if I wanted to listen to a song again, I would have to flip the tape over and try to guess at how long to fast forward it. What einstein came up with this brilliant bit of cost-cutting ingenuity? How much extra does it cost to put a simple rewind button on there?

Then there was the speedometer. Or lack thereof. I drove by RPM's, much like NASCAR drivers do. Somehow I estimated that in high gear, 2000 RPM's equalled to 55 MPH, which was still the speed limit on most roads here in 1989. I have no idea how close I was, but I never got a ticket in that car.

Last but not least, for some reason the car would not stop running for a few seconds after you turned off the ignition. And by a few, I mean anywhere from five to twenty. Many days I remember pulling up to the Piggly Wiggly (my first job), turning off the car, taking out the keys, and getting nearly to the door before it would completely stop. Ironically, when I would crack it back up and start to back out, it would go dead if I didn't jam it from reverse into drive and give it gas all in less than 0.35 seconds.

There were good things about her, though. The cloth interior had come loose from the ceiling and hung fairly low. So, if I rolled the windows down, which I often did since the air didn't work, the wind would give it this super-cool rippling effect. Kinda like horizontal drapes flowing in front of an open window on a windy March afternoon. (Much like those in George Michael's "One More Try" video.) You might be surprised at how much attention this drew around town. Oh yeah! Everyone wanted to get a look at Bone in his sweet ride.

Oddly, I never had a date in that car. Talk about weird! Working at Piggly Wiggly, where my uniform consisted of a brown smock over a button-down shirt and one of those 80's solid colored nylon ties, and driving that marvel of modern machinery, one would think the ladies would have been all over me.

I drove the Carlo for five or six months, until I got a new job at another grocery store and a raise to $3.85 an hour. Then I could afford to get my own car. But I will always remember the black 1980 Monte Carlo. After all, you never forget your first.

(I thought it would be fun to do a series of posts, writing about each of the cars I've had. This was, obviously, part one.)

"I drive fastly, call me Jeff Gordon. In the black SS with the navigation..."

3 Word Wednesday XXIX

Welcome to Three Word Wednesday.

Each week, I will post three (or more) random words. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to write something using all of those words. It can be a few lines, a story, a poem, anything. This is a writing exercise. It doesn't have to be perfect. The idea is to let your mind wander and write what it will. I'll also attempt to write something using the same three words.

Leave a comment if you participate.

This week's words are:
Easily
Type
Shattered

Whenever I look back, it always amazes me how easily we fit together. I never recall any nervousness. No awkward minutes, or even seconds. Maybe it came too easily. We got to a point where I no longer knew where I stopped and where she began. I thought that a good thing. But now, looking back, I am not sure.

Whenever I look back, it always amazes me how I could have ever let her slip away. It seems impossible now, like something I would never do. But I know it is possible. And I know how shattered feels.

Whenever I look back, it always amazes me how long it has been. And how she continues to have a profound effect on my heart and my life, even after all this time. She is still the inspiration for many of the words I type.

Whenever I look back, I see her. And I smile, despite the emptiness that still remains. Sometimes she is smiling back at me. Sometimes she appears crestfallen. And I beat myself up one more time over mistakes for which I have already paid.

"Every step you take reminds you that she's walking on. And for all you know, this could be, the difference between what you need and what you want to be..."

24 Recap:3/26/07

There's a fun, new post 'neath this one. I kinda got carried away writing last night/this morning :)

Today is also an important day in history. The urinal was patented on this date in 1866. And I, for one, am very thankful. I'm not sure I could survive if I had to sit to pee.

Recapping Day Six: 8:00 PM - 9:00 PM

In the aftermath of the raid on the drone pilot's compound, Bill tells Jack about VP Daniels plan for retalitation against Fayed's country. He says they have to find Gredenko within the hour, before Daniels launches the nuclear strike. Meanwhile, Nameless Drone Pilot Tron Controller Guy #1 dies.

Out at Gredenko's Desert Hideaway, Resort, and Nuclear Drone Launch Site, Fayed threatens Gredenko after they learn the latest nuke did not detonate. Gredenko tells Fayed he is the only one who can get him the targets he wants. You know, that whole "What Do I Have To Do To Put You In A Terrorist Attack Today" sales pitch. Gredenko calls some guy named Mark Hauser and says he needs security specs for something. Mark instructs his brother, Brady, to get the information. Brady goes to the computer.

At CTU, where Milo appears to just be watching Nadia on her live holding room webcam, Chloe is able to track the call and get Hauser's address. For some reason, she was unable to get Gredenko's location from the same call. He must have star sixty-sevened. They call Jack and he prepares to take a field team over. Meanwhile, an agent named Johnson tells Ricky Schroder that he found a load access module which the drone pilot used to get into CTU's system, meaning Nadia is innocent. He tells Ricky that won't look good after Ricky "led the witchhunt" on Nadia. Johnson promises he won't mention it to anyone, since Ricky helped him out in Denver.

Outside President Palmer's hospital room, Karen Hayes tells Sandra Palmer she needs her consent to bring Wayne out of his coma, so he can stop Daniels planned nuclear strike. In a recurring 24 theme, Sandra says no at first, but finally agrees.

In the bunker, Daniels is briefed and told that a 300 kiloton bomb will be detonated in the Middle East within the hour. That's roughly equal to 12 million sticks of dynamite, or 72 million M-80's. The meeting is interrupted when Daniels is given a message that Palmer is being brought out of the coma. He calls Palmer's doctor and threatens him. The doctor refuses to give in to Daniels' strongarm tactics.

Jack and the field team storm Hauser's lair. They shoot and wound Mark, who confesses he was looking up security specs for the Edgemont Nuclear Power Facility for Gredenko. Jack has Mark call Gredenko and tell him the information is ready, but that Mark can't meet him because he just got called into work. Who gets called into work at 8:30 at night? Where does he work? NORAD? Wal-Mart? Jack talks to Brady, who appears to be Autistic. It is determined that Brady will meet Gredenko across the street. Jack and the field team will be waiting!

Meanwhile, at As CTU Turns, Johnson tells Milo that Ricky has information that would clear Nadia. Milo confronts Ricky and accuses him of not reporting the information. They shove each other. Then Morris comes over and says Ricky gave the chip to him to analyze. Everything checked out. Nadia is cleared. Milo apologizes to Ricky. Ricky goes over to Johnson and tells him, "You've screwed with the wrong guy for the last time." I was on Silver Spoons when you were nothing!

Bill goes to apologize to Nadia. She starts to walk out and he talks her into staying. When she returns to her station, Milo tries to talk to her, but Nadia walks away. Milo follows her to a convenient quaint little out of the way place inside the ever-so-cavernous CTU, where he promptly checks her breath, for about six and a half seconds. I feel much safer knowing that people assigned to stop terrorists can still find a moment or two to make-out during the day.

At Coma Central, the doctor tells Sandra that Palmer is starting to have intercranial swelling again. Palmer begins to crash. Which, sadly, is the most excitement we've had to this point.

Across the street from Hauser's, Brady is wired and waiting. Gredenko arrives, gets out of the vehicle, and begins uploading the security specs. Jack hears Gredenko tell one of his men to shoot Brady as soon as the upload is complete. Just before he is about to, the field team shoots Gredenko with a tranquilizer gun and take out other two men who were with him. Brady is unharmed. Once Gredenko wakes up, Jack goes to question him. Gredenko says he will help find Fayed, but he wants amnesty in return.

Back at Shock & Awe HQ, Daniels gets word that CTU has Gredenko in custody, but gives the command to proceed with the nuclear strike anyway. The defense secretary returns and says they've just been ordered to stand down. Daniels asks where the order came from, and is told they came from President Palmer! He's out of the coma! Lisa hands Daniels the phone. It's Palmer, who says he is resuming his duties as President and that there is to be no hostile launch without his direct authorization. After they hang up, Daniels says, "I can't let him remain in power. Get me the Attorney General."

The good:
President Palmer being brought out of the coma just in time to stop the nuclear strike.

Jack and the field team capturing Gredenko.

No "mole" being found at CTU. It's been done to death. Besides, a Counter Terrorist Unit that averts terrorists attacks together, stays together.

Ricky not withholding the information about Nadia. I hate to say it, but when he told off Johnson, I kinda started to like him.

The bad:
In what is becoming an all too often occurrence this season, there was very little action. We're basically left each week waiting for the final ten or fifteen minutes of the show for the excitement.

I would have liked to have seen some cigar-cutter-finger-lopping interrogation action between Jack and Gredenko.

Best scene:
Palmer calling Daniels to stop the nuclear strike. "I am resuming my duties as Commander-in-Chief."

Random quote:
Nadia to Morris: "You have to admit this is not the best place to start a relationship."

Chloeisms:
"This is gonna be awkward... especially for you."

Questions:
Where is Jack's father?

Now that things are running a bit too smoothly at CTU, will the fact that Bill signed off on Fayed's release come back into play?

Why do they only refer to it as "Fayed's Country?" Is there some sort of obscure international Treaty of Fayed or something that says you can't make a TV show about launching a nuclear attack on a specific country? Has anyone ever read the fine print from that SALT agreement?

Will we ever actually see Audrey again? Or just hear stories about her? Kinda like on Happy Days when Richie joined the army. And they would act like he called, but we never saw or heard him.

"A tournament of lies. Offer me solutions, offer me alternatives, and I decline. It's the end of the world as we know it..."

Riding In Cars With Boys

Hanging out with Little Joe and Wolfgang is kinda like watching Robin Williams on a talk show. I'm never quite sure what to expect, but I know I'll most likely be entertained. And sometimes scared.

The first weekend of Spring felt like the first weekend of Summer. So LJ, Wolfgang, and I took advantage by heading up to Kinlock Falls Sunday afternoon. Despite temperatures which had been in the 80's seemingly for a week, the water was slightly frigid. I found that out the first time I jumped in, leaving me yelping like a little girl. It was like millions of tiny pin pricks on my delicate, milky white skin. Nature's own little accupuncture therapy, if you will.

As we were leaving, I ran into a girl I knew but couldn't remember her name. (That's not selective memory. That's just bad memory.) We chatted for a few minutes. Meanwhile, LJ had been talking to this guy about the location of another swimming hole, deeper in the forest. We decided we'd look for it.

About a quarter of a mile up the road, I heard a beeping noise, then looked over and said, "Uhh, why does that say low fuel?"

LJ replied, "Oh... uh... I forgot about that. Yeah. We're not going to The Blue Hole today."

So there we were, on a gravel road deep inside the national forest, with LJ's instrument panel reading that we had 27 miles of gas remaining. And I'm estimating it is about 25 miles back to the store. LJ didn't think it was that far and said he was confident we had plenty of gas. Wolfgang and I began to berate LJ. I asked him why he didn't get gas before we left town, especially since I had him stop at a store on the way so that I could get a Mountain Dew!

I should probably mention here that LJ has a history of running out of gas. (And being in wrecks. And staying up for forty-eight straight hours and hallucinating. But those are other stories for another time.) For some illogical reason, he seems to enjoy pushing the limits and seeing just how far his car will go.

I was even riding with him once when, after ignoring my continuous pleas to stop, he ran out of gas in a rather unsavory area of town. In that particular instance, he said not to worry, that the car would restart at least twice after it first ran out of gas. Which would indicate he had done that at least once before. Amazingly enough, it did, and we coasted into the next gas station.

Anyway, back to Sunday. We got back to the store with three miles of gas remaining. Just as we were about to pull in, Wolfgang yelled from the back seat, "Keep going! I want to see how far we could have made it!" Ugh.

They dropped me off at my car. As we pulled back onto the highway, I saw the top start to go up on Little Joe's convertible. He started down the highway with the top standing straight up in the air, almost perfectly vertical. I had no idea what they were doing, but he pulled into someone's driveway. I honked and continued past. My phone rang. It was Wolfgang. I answered but couldn't even manage to say hello. For like twenty seconds, there's nothing but laughter on both ends.

We met back up at LJ's later that night. I walked into the kitchen to get something and noticed three pairs of solid white Reeboks sitting heel-to-toe by the garage door. I nearly pulled out my phone to take a picture. (They were kinda like these except without the navy.) Here were these three pairs of shoes from the 1980's, identical except for the amount of wear.

What?

Does he just keep buying the same style over and over? And if so, where does he still find them? Or did he buy them all in 1989? And why three pairs? Maybe they were the last three pairs ever made, so he wanted to stock up on them. Or maybe he rotates them, like tires, so that they last longer.

So many questions. So few answers...

Again, I never know what to expect, and sometimes I'm scared.

"So put me on a highway, and show me a sign, and take it to the limit one more time..."

Y-Chromosomitis

I received an IM from a friend the other night that read simply:

"Why no T-Bone?"

No "hello." No "hi, how are you?" Just those four words. Yet immediately, I not only recognized it as a line from Seinfeld, but I knew the specific episode and scene it came from, as well as who said it.

Granted, that was an easy one, since that is the episode my name, Bone, was derived from. (By the way, thanks Renee for explaining that on another blog. I love my readers!) But it's not the first time this has happened.

I can pretty much do that with any Seinfeld line. Yet someone has to tell me when their birthday is at least five times before I can remember it.

I can name at least eight current pro bowlers off the top of my head, and recognize them when I see them on TV. And I don't even watch bowling all that much. (Except apparently I do.) Yet I have trouble remembering much of anything any female said to me even twenty-four hours ago. Or five minutes ago.

How can this be? Well, I have come up with a theory. You may want to sit down for this. You know, if you normally read my blog standing up...

I think I may have selective memory.

(Pause to wait for gasps of disbelief to subside.)

Please don't let this negatively affect your opinion of me. I'm still same old rugged, General Hospital-watching, 24-recapping, Seinfeld-quoting, Jason Morgan-esque ladies man you've come to know and love. But, I do have a problem. And admitting it is the first step to recovery.

Now... what were we talking about?

Oh, yes... bowling!

No, seriously. I've also come to believe my selective memory could be partly due to the fact that, at times, I may also have selective hearing.

I know, I know. This is almost impossible to believe. It's like hearing that Rosie O'Donnell hangs upside down for fun. But let me give you an example:

If I'm watching sports (or Letterman, or poker, or You've Got Mail) and a girl calls, I would venture to guess that I fail to comprehend anywhere from 50-75% of what she is saying. If it's a really exciting game, or Alabama is playing, that number could be as high as 99%. (I would say 100, but I normally eventually hear them saying my name repeatedly when they realize I'm distracted.)

Why do I do this? In my opinion, it basically comes down to two simple facts. I have a short attention span. And, I can only concentrate on one thing at a time. Sure, sometimes I fake it, who doesn't? Like with the television and phone calls. But in reality, only one thing or the other is getting thru. And if I'm listening to her, then I'm missing the game. And, well, obviously...

Now one might ask, "Bone, why do you specify when a girl calls, and not a guy?" Well, with guys, conversations tend to be short and have a specific point. Let's look at a couple of examples of guy conversations:

Example one:
"Hello."
"Are you watching this?"
"Yeah."
"Did you see that crap call!?"
"Yeah."
"That's terrible!"
"I agree."
"Alright, I'll call you back."
"Alright."

Example two:
"Hello."
"Hey, I'm not gonna be able to make it tonight. Sheena and I got back
together."
"Oh. Alright. That's cool."
"So, uh... I guess I'll talk to you later."
"Yeah. Later."

In these examples, notice how a short attention span wouldn't really come into play. I can usually pay attention to the first three or four things someone says when they call. But after that, it's all downhill, swiftly and steeply.

Contrariwise, with women, there's often a lot of "how was your day" and "guess what happened to me today" kind of stuff. Conversations can, on occasion, begin to wander aimlessly, dragging on sometimes for hours.

It stands to reason that if I don't even hear half of what she says, there's no way I can be expected to remember it. So selective hearing leads to selective memory, and that, I believe, is what I have.

When I mentioned this newfound realization--epiphany, if you will--to a couple of women, their responses were surprisingly uniform. Of course you do, you're a man.

Yes friends, aparently my selective memory and selective hearing are only symptoms of a much more serious, terminal condition, known as being a man.

"I'm only a man in a funny red sheet. And it's not easy. It's not easy to be me..."

3 Word Wednesday #28

Welcome to Three Word Wednesday.

Each week, I will post three (or more) random words. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to write something using all of those words. It can be a few lines, a story, a poem, anything. This is a writing exercise. It doesn't have to be perfect. The idea is to let your mind wander and write what it will. I'll also attempt to write something using the same three words.

Leave a comment if you participate.

This week's words are:
Lounged
Slice
Knot

Arriving home from school, Karen twisted her key in the door. The cave-like darkness of the apartment provided an extreme contrast to the sunshiny spring afternoon. Setting her books on the table, she walked straight to the bedroom, flung open the door and put on the light.

Justin was lying there shirtless, watching Montel. There were several bottles on the table beside the bed, along with a half-eaten slice of pizza.

"I thought you were going to look for a job today!"

"I'm waiting to hear back from a couple of applications I filled out."

"Oh, whatever!" she huffed and turned to leave.

"Turn off the light."

"Turn it off yourself!" she slammed the door.

Karen went and stood at the front door, looking out as she picked at the hole in the screen. Anytime she would stand here, she would always think how someday she was going to leave. Everything beyond that door represented freedom, from this place, this relationship, and all her discontent. She had hopes and dreams. Or at least, she once had. Now she could barely remember what they were.

Justin didn't seem to aspire to much of anything beyond this. He had worked a handful of part-time jobs, but never stayed at any one of them for more than a couple of months. And he hadn't worked at all in six weeks. Now he just lounged around the house, not even getting out of bed before 2 PM most days.

They had been dating for thirteen months, if you could call it dating. They hadn't been on anything even slightly resembling date since her brother got them tickets to a basketball game. And that was in January. Yet here she was, still.

What kept her here? Everytime she thought about leaving, she would get a knot in her stomach. Her throat would become parched. And she would always lie and tell herself that she never knew what tomorrow held in store.

Walking back to the bedroom, Karen opened the door to find Justin in the exact same position as before. And the knot in her stomach gone.

"She burns all her notes. And she knows, she's been here too few years to feel this old..."

24 Recap: 3/19/07

As you may have heard, Lindsay is reportedly out of rehab and looking for a boyfriend who is more mature and settled. Um, does that just scream "Bone" or what?

Recapping this week's episode of 24, also known as Day Six: 7:00 PM - 8:00 PM...

Outside Moscow 90210, Jack is checked out by a medic who says he has floating rib fragments that could cause internal bleeding. Ricky Schroder takes Jack off the case and sends him back to CTU. Meanwhile at CTU, Bill is on the phone with VP Daniels, and tells him that Gredenko has five RQ2 Aerial Drones he is planning to use to carry the nukes. RQ2? Isn't that the morning after pill?

Out at Gredenko's Desert Hideaway, Resort, and Nuclear Drone Launch Site, Gredenko tells Fayed they have to hurry because the Americans are on the way. Fayed says there is only one drone ready. Gredenko says they must launch that one now and leave. He phones his remote drone pilot and tells him to take off. The drone pilot, who we will come to know as Victor, pulls out a cool flight stick--which kinda looks like the old Tron joystick--and launches drone number one.

Back at As the Counter Terrorist Unit Turns, Morris somehow loses track of the drone on satellite. Milo--who has evidently become Morris' unofficial AA sponsor--becomes suspicious and tells Chloe to check his breath. Chloe walks over to Morris and plants one on him.

Morris: "What was that for?"
Chloe: "Just checking your breath."
Morris: "Got to love this place."

Chloe proclaims that Morris is clean. I know this is random, but I just suddenly got the feeling Milo would have been great in Red Dawn. Wolverines!!

Meanwhile, Jack has arrived and sees Marilyn--who has apparently just been standing in some room for the past couple of hours--and stops to chat. Marilyn tries to, ahem, check Jack's breath, but he turns away. She says she always regretted the way things ended between them. Which I'm thinking is Marilyn-ese for "Josh is your son."

Jack tells Marilyn he can't let her check his breath until he finds out what's going on with Audrey. Marilyn can't believe Jack hasn't already heard, and tells him Audrey was killed in a car wreck in China! Audrey is dead?!?! Jack. Is. Stunned. He storms over to Chloe's station and demands to know why she didn't tell him about Audrey. Chloe looks uncomfortable. Then again, when does she not?

Hello! We have terrorists to catch, people!

When Buchanan tells Daniels they've lost track of the drone, Daniels tells his assistant to assemble a meeting of the Joint Chiefs. Karen, who we find out is National Security Adviser, makes it back in time for the meeting. Daniels says if another nuclear bomb goes off in the US, he will launch a nuclear strike against Fayed's country. Karen objects. After the meeting, Karen and Tom argue.

Chloe discovers there's a leak at CTU, which is allowing Victor to block their tracking satellites. Bill orders everyone's computers checked. Ricky tells Chloe to check Nadia's first. Chloe says it looks like that's where the leak is coming from. Nadia is taken to holding where Ricky interrogates her. And by interrogates, I mean chokes and makes her cry. Meanwhile, Morris finds the drone pilot's address, which turns out to be just three blocks from CTU. Bill prepares to send a team over when Jack happens by and asks to be on point. Which is CTU speak for "in charge."

Karen goes to visit President Palmer. The doctor tells her they had to induce a coma. She asks if he can bring Palmer out of the coma for a matter of national security. The doctor says not without consent of the family, because it would endanger Palmer's life. The camera pans to a tearful Sandra Palmer, watching her brother thru a window.

A field team, led by Jack, storms the drone pilot's compound, shooting the pilot and two other guys. Jack takes control of the joystick, which now looks more like Flight Similator than Tron. Now I love Jack, but shouldn't Ricky Schroder be playing the video game? I mean, this is the role he was born to play! Jack sees that San Francisco is the target and is told he has less than four minutes to steer the drone away from the city. He manages to do so and Chloe finds an industrial park where Jack can land it. The suitcase nuke does not detonate.

Buchanan calls Daniels and tells him they were able to divert the drone, but that while it did not detonate, radioactive material was released. Despite objections from Tom and Karen, Daniels tells his Defense Secretary to proceed with plans for a nuclear strike.

The good:
More Chloe! And the Chloe kiss.

Jack finding out about Audrey.

Having Karen, a voice of reason, back in the bunker.

The Nadia did-she-or-didn't-she conundrum.

The bad:
Almost no action at all this episode.

Audrey's dead.

Did you know...
Ten out of ten men prefer the Chloe-kiss breathalyzer to the traditional electronic device used by most law enforcement.

Questions:
Is Audrey really dead? Part of me doesn't believe it, or doesn't want to believe it.

Why was there no Martha or Charles? The ex-President gets stabbed and appears to be slipping away in the back of an ambulance, and the next week, they don't even show him?

What happened in Denver? When Ricky is making Nadia cry, she says, "I know what happened in Denver."

Did Nadia intentionally leak information? Or was it someone else?

"So I know I had at least a mile to fall. Is there life after Denver? Is there life after Colorado at all?"

March Madness

*yawn* I feel like I've spent the past four days in an NCAA Tournament-induced state of semi-consciousness. Oh, right, that's because I have! In my opinion, this has become the best weekend of the year in sports. Throw in CSpan constantly showing Valerie Plame reruns, and I saw little reason to leave the house the past four days.

The good news is, my Final Four all made it thru to the Sweet 16: Kansas, Georgetown, Florida, and Ohio State.

The bad news is, my Cinderella team, Winthrop, lost in the second round. I had them making it to the Elite Eight.

How is your bracket looking?

Signs you may be suffering from March Madness:

10. You have at least three brackets on your person right now.

9. You find yourself cheering for Oral Roberts, and you don't even really like televangelists.

8. Greg Gumbel begins appearing in your dreams, or nightmares, as the case may be. (OK, seriously, is he sitting in a booster seat in the studio or what?)

7. You drink yourself into a stupor after Creighton loses, effectively ending any chance you might have had of winning the office pool.

6. You TiVo MTV's My Super Sweet Sixteen, thinking it might include tournament highlights and in-depth analysis.

5. At different times this weekend, you've found yourself rooting for Central Connecticut State, Belmont, and Texas A&M-Corpus Christi.

4. By late Sunday evening, you begin to wonder if you really can get a Hummer with tires that transform into propellers.

3. You've googled "saluki."

2. You're now planning to name your next child Fazekas.

1. You're sleeping on the couch after telling your wife you always kinda considered her your "little 12 seed."

"I feel stupid, but I know it won't last for long. I've been guessing, and I coulda been guessing wrong..."