If Nothing Else, fantastic Band Name...

today’s unfortunate vending machine incident

as expressed in Haiku verse.

verse one
snickers bar stuck
mocking gravity’s allure
sixty five cents lost

.
verse two
next choice, a kit kat
snack expense: a buck thirty
must you keep the change?

18 things I can do underwater I wish I could do on dry land

1. Levitate
2. Double flip
3. One handed handstand
4. Two handed handstand
5. Flying kung fu kicks
6. The “whirling dervish”
7. Wear goggles and look cool
8. Tread air
9. Long jump 35 feet
10. Amuse my friends
11. Hold my breath without being accused of something
12. Get service without shoes or shirt
13. Make my hair look like that
14. Bench press 400 lbs
15. Self actualization
16. Avoid mosquitoes
17. Be on time
18. Math

Too Good Not to Share

Does This Mean Last Week's Count Needs to be Adjusted?

Bodies found in funeral home bought at tax sale :: Lake County :: Post-Tribune

Happy Song of the Day

The Hulka Syndrome

With age comes experience.

With experience comes perspective.

And with all three comes The Hulka Syndrome.

The Hulka Syndrome (THS) is that shift of allegiance or empathy you feel as an adult towards a person -- real or fictitious -- you first encountered in your youth.

Perhaps you’ve experienced THS at a family gathering or a high school reunion. Or maybe while watching the movie Stripes, which is exactly when THS hit me with swift and surprising clarity.

Let’s review the film’s plot. Slacker joins the Army. Clashes with his old school, hard nosed commanding officer. Finds redemption, reconciliation and respect. (Of course the film loses its way during the Winnebago-laden second half, but that’s another post.)

The first half of the film thrives, largely due to the generational tension created between the two main characters, the slacker John Winger and Sgt. Hulka.

When the film was released in 1981 – and for years afterward – my college friends and I would howl at the antics of Winger (Bill Murray). To us, this guy challenged authority and seemingly antiquated attitudes while staying true to his carefree self. He was a lazy hero striking a blow against the uptight establishment. In truth, Winger was us. Undisciplined. A bit aimless. Hazy on his future. Certainly not Army material.

By contrast, Sgt. Hulka (Warren Oates) was bred for the armed services. Focused, disciplined and tough, he was no-nonsense (and close shaven). His disdain for those who wasted his time and peddled nonsense was palpable.

In college, my friends and I elevated nonsense to an art form. Naturally, we cheered Winger’s defiance of Hulka on every viewing. Stick it to The Man – for all of us!

Yet when I stumbled across Stripes on cable a few days ago, I found myself cheering for a different character.

“Why doesn’t Winger appreciate Hulka?,” I wondered aloud. Then to my wife, “You know, that Hulka has a lot of skins on the wall. He really deserves respect.”

My wife and I often discuss films not aging well. That usually refers to films with Heston-esque overacting, dated production values, massive hairstyles, and wardrobes including but not limited to Members Only jackets and parachute pants.

I now have to consider that movies like Stripes don’t age well because the characters haven’t aged. And I have.

The onset of The Hulka Syndrome can be uncomfortable. (“What’s happening to me? I’m losing my sense of fun!”) I experienced another painful bout of THS during a recent viewing of Risky Business. (“I’d tan that boy’s hide if he chipped my egg.”) I can only imagine the violent THS reactions a John Hughes retrospective might trigger.

Funny how the characters of my youth who flout authority and tradition seem a little less funny today – undoubtedly the result of responsibilities like a marriage, a mortgage, a so-called career and parenting. Perspective, indeed.

I’m reminded of the profound change I felt after having our firstborn, that of suddenly viewing the world through the eyes of a parent instead of a child. No wonder, then, we view characters first met through the eyes of a child differently when viewed through the more seasoned eyes of an adult.

The Hulka Syndrome reminds me I’ve crossed the Rubicon. And in a surprising plot twist, I now stand on the other side of the generation gap, championing instead of cackling at the values espoused by my newest, bestest buddy, and big toe, Sergeant Hulka.

black lab + novelty chattering teeth

RHS Acappella Choir - In Remembrance

This was one of the songs that RHS Acappella Choir performed at the UIL competition this year. It was written by a high school music teacher in response to the death of one of his students. It is a truly beautiful song.

tuck or untuck

At a recent party, I found myself surrounded by middle-aged guys -- nearly all with their shirts untucked.

Ordinarily this display of untuckiness doesn’t phase me. After all, my day job as a creative means I often wear shirts tailored to be untucked. Standard issue for creative directors (along with the black turtleneck and ironic t-shirt). And among the creatives at the agency, there are many kinds of free-flowing garments. So the notion of tucking is seen as restricting the kind of freethinking our clients pay for, the belt viewed as a tool of The Man (and/or account services). If this were an analogies test, it might be represented as follows: Tuck is to inside the box as untuck is to _________ the box.

But this birthday bash wasn’t at the agency. And I wasn't surrounded by creatives. I was at a polite and subdued gathering, mixing it up with accountants, financial managers, federal officials, corporals of industry. All were sporting a variety of shirts – from dress to oxford button down to tailored. And nearly all were eschewing the polish and finish of the tuck, choosing to let their sartorial guard and shirt tail down.

Perhaps I was witnessing the proverbial letting down of the hair on a Saturday night. Maybe even a defiance of middle-aged expectations, a mild flash of rebellion against the belted system. Or was something larger going on here. A small symbol, a manifestation of the recognition that our economic system, society and way of life is on the brink of utter chaos and those who have toed the party line for years are finally fed up. “Screw this. I’m wearing my shirt OUT!”

Regardless, ever since that party, I’ve been tuned in to the number of adult males choosing the untucked style.

There would seem to be many variables at play in determining whether or not one’s shirt is tucked in. A few that come to mind include the setting (ballgame or office), the pants (slacks vs. jeans), and one’s body style (does the tuck or untuck flatter).
It would seem to me the chief factor, though, is the style of shirt. Is it created to be worn out or in?

I’m no authority on this matter, though. And, frankly, as a mixed tucker myself, I welcome the guidance of others – if not the establishment of some tucklaws (thanks to KO for that designation).

So weigh in on this matter, please.
(And join in the conversation and observations on Twitter @TuckOrUntuck.)