Find Ice a Job

My friend, Matty Ice, has recently blogged about not having a job and how he's sick of people asking him if he has found a job yet.  In effort to help him find a job, I have decided to do the most effective thing a person living in 2016 can do to invoke real change in the world: start a hastag.

So please, SPREAD THE WORD.  #FindIceAJob

Also, goodnight Cathy.

See the post here: I REALLY NEED A JOB

Lucy

It was November 2005 when my family and I brought home the cutest little blonde female Golden Retriever puppy. We had consciously decided to adopt a female, since they were typically smarter and smaller than their male counterparts.  However, as we soon learned, this was no typical Golden, this was Lucy.

Lucy and I grew up together.  As I morphed through my awkward teenage years into my even awkwarder early 20s, she morphed into a 90lb beast, known for her stubbornness, hilarious stupidity, and undeniable love and affection for any and all things that came into contact with her.  Whenever someone came within a reasonable distance of her, she would lean on them and greet them with a high, friendly bark, begging for a pet on the head.  When they tried to walk away, she pawed at them, not wanting the affection to end.

Throughout the years, I remember: once coming home to find her covered in her own shit and exclaiming to my friend "she diarreahed all over the place!"; her eating a live frog; taking her outside on the leash when I was home alone with her, deathly ill with the norovirus; the first time she barked playing in the leaves as a puppy, the only time we all thought her bark was cute; how she treated the Invisible Fence as more of a "guideline" than an actual barrier, she very much enjoyed her walkabouts through the neighborhood; and playing with her bright red football in the yard until I got sick of trying to pry the football from her mouth's incredibly strong clutch.  My friends all knew that once Lucy got a hold of a ball, whether it be a lacrosse ball or basketball, we'd need to spend at least the next 10 minutes chasing her around trying to retrieve it.

Yesterday, during a visit to the vet, they discovered a large, potentially malignant tumor in Lucy's abdomen.  She's 11 years old, quite old for a Golden, and it is not known how much treatment would prolong her life.  Later this week, she will be gently and humanely put to sleep.  She will spend her final days doing all things she enjoyed: spending some time in the warm sun, enjoying a delicious Dairy Queen vanilla cone, and scarfing down a grilled steak, bone and all.

While visiting home for my birthday weekend, I had the pleasure of seeing and petting Lucy for what was likely the last time. In this heartbreaking moment, as a ran my hand along the soft blonde (now riddled with white) fur of her back, I realized, even though I don't see her as much as I used to, how difficult it is to lose her and how different visits home will be.  Lucy was always the first to greet me when I visit and yesterday was no different.  She always provided an interesting obstacle, being a 90lb dog laying in the most inconvenient places, whether she was on the bottom step or laying in front of the drawer or cupboard in the kitchen (she refused to move, as per her aforementioned stubbornness).  And whenever I would eat anything, and I mean anything, those old eyes would gaze at me with the look of the same puppy we brought home 11 years earlier, and she would throw in an occasional high yelp, just in case I didn't notice she was there...

Goodbye and rest in peace Lucy, Lu, Lulu, Lu Goo, Biggy Lu, Big Dumb Stupid Dog.  I love you and I know you always loved me at least as much as you loved everybody and everything else.

Time Passes, Blog Posts Aren't Written

Wow, wow...WOWZ.

It's 2016.  My last blog post was in 2012. It's been over three years since you've been able to read my mindless drivel online. Unless, of course, you're friends with me on Facebook.  During this time, much has changed.  I no longer live in Fort Wayne, or that shithole state known as Indiana, I adulted and purchased house, I am now responsible for the well being of another living thing (don't worry, it's a dog), and I trained for a marathon I didn't run.

And that all happened in the past 18 months!

Isn't that amazing?  It doesn't feel that long since I started this a joke to kill time after returning from the bar.  I actually totally forgot about this blog until last month when I was reminiscing with some of the best people I know.  Time flies when you're having fun, I guess.

So, here we are again my friends, older, wiser, and a little more mature. I sit here, sipping my bourbon, blogging about not blogging and watching my girl sleep next to me (again, I'm talking about my dog), a little shocked about how much time has passed and how much has changed and how that crazy dude from The Apprentice and Home Alone 2 might become president. I'd like to wish you all a happy belated New Year, also for 2013, 2014, and 2015.  You're beautiful and awesome!

Goodnight Cathy.

*Edited for the improper use of your/you're

The Sabertooth Tiger and the Archaeopteryx

Oh wow!  So, I was sabertoothed again today.  I apparently have obtained another undesired sabertooth tiger.  Today, at Dash-In it happened.  She tried to tip me in my chair and had a Archaeopteryx woman to help her, commenting "Isn't she cute?" after the attempt.  When I shrugged it off, she appeared to be annoyed as if I had just insulted her friend.

Wait, so that made no sense out of context.  So, maybe I should give the background story of how I have a Sabertooth tiger.  Well, here it is, the moment you've all been waiting for, the treat for withstanding 2 weeks off from reading the best unknown blog on the internet: the story of the title.

This occured at some country western bar in North FW.  I was with a few friends, after seeing Moonlight Kingdom earlier in the day.  I had no idea what was in store for me that night.  We were apparently meeting up at the bar with a 55 year old woman.  I really did not think much of this.  But when she got there, it seemed to be a little awkward.  Basically, she seemed to take interest in me.  At one point in the night, she asked to hear my life story.  I, of course, said I have no life story.  But she pressed further.  So, I gave in and began to tell some excerpts of my life.  However, we were at opposite ends of the table, it was a loud bar, and she may have been hard of hearing.  But she was unable to hear what I was saying.  So she said, and I quote, this is no joke, "I can't hear you.  I guess I'll need to hear your story another time.  Maybe we will make it a Bedtime story."  In shock, I commented "WHAT?!."  "Maybe we will make it a Bedtime story."  (yes she litrally repeated it)  You're probably thinking, maybe this was just an innocent comment, but afterward she turned to my friends, who are in a state of shock and trying with all of their might not to burst out laughing and said "I don't think he gets it." Afterwards, my friends were laughing at the comment made by, what they referred to as a "cougar."  I called foul, 55 is too old to be a cougar.  One of my friends suggested "Saber Tooth Tiger," we all enjoyed that and it stuck.  And there you have it, BEDTIME STORIES FOR MY SABER TOOTH TIGER.

But, back to the new story, which should make complete sense to everyone now right?

Well, I guess you're probably wondering what the Archaeopteryx that travels with this specific breed of Saber Tooth tiger is.  Well, that word is the name for a prehistoric bird, and it greek it directly translates to "Ancient Wing."  Yes, this sabertooth tiger had an "actient wing woman."  I was again their prey.  Aren't I a lucky guy?  Oh, awkwark moments (possible future post).

Goodnight Cathy

Trains

I hate trains. I am currently taking a train from Chicago to SB and its awful.  Well, we stayed in the city much to late and ended up taking the last train out.   That is 11:15 central time...which is actually 12:15 for us normal people.  That os late when you wake up at 5:30am.  I am currently in this awkward state where I am too tired to legitimately be awake but I can't actually sleep.  This train is too noisy and it smells bad.

Seriously, aren't trains the worst?  Not to mention, my nemisis train resides in Fort Wayne.  It has made me plenty late for golf and mad monday among, well, other things.  I just need to get off this train.

"You got caught in the water, can't stand in the water!"

I bought a cubs hat today.  I also got some delicious Goose Island.  I am looking at a ridiculous train picture.

Wow, look at that tired babling.  I'm so sorry...but tired.

Goodnight Cathy.

Being T-Rayn

(So me and my friend Bo Twhuangles, author of matthewtwhuang.com made the decision to each start a blogging segment where each of us blog a day in the life type post of the same person, which will be agreed upon prior to starting the blog post.  These posts will be titled "Being _____", like "Being John Malcovich."  Our first victim is our mutual friend, T-Rayn.  We will try to keep people as anonymous as possible, but we'll see. I am listening to R.E.M. as I write this post)

A Familiar Look

"Shiny happy people laughing
Meet me in the crowd
People, people
Throw your love around
Love me, love me
Take it into town
Happy, happy
Put it in the ground
Where the flowers grow
Gold and silver shine"

Ahhhhh the alarm clock, time to get to work, oh man.  Oh well, what a great song to wake up to.  And I'm in a good mood, as last night was quite a Mad Monday, with great beer and the quietest drinking anyone can imagine.  I get out of bed and head to my kitchen for a delicious cup of Old Crown coffee and stare at the photos of my two favorite girls on the mantle above my fireplace...awkwardly as can be...all by myself.

Everyday, give yourself a present.  It doesn't matter what it is, don't plan it, just let it happen.

Oh man, look at the time, time to head to RayRay to spend yet another day with the great people of B2.  I grab my favorite green jacket and swish my way down to my Mazda 6, the best car.  I immediately notice that my gas tank is a bit low and I should stop on the way to work to fill up.  However, I immediately remember, there is no BP gas station on the way!  I must drive out of my way to get only the best gas, what my car craves.  I won't make it into work until 9AM, but, really, who cares?   I fill up, and my car squirts out of happiness from receiving delicous BP gas.

Everyday, give your car a present. It doesn't matter what it is, don't plan it, just let it happen.

Finally, I'm on the way to work.  On the way, I see a sign saying "Welcome to the City of Fort Wayne."  I just grin and shake my head.  This isn't a "real city," a "real city" has at least 19 million people.  *Sigh*.  When I finally make it into work, I realize that I need some refueling myself.  I head up to the cafeteria to grab a quick bite to eat before work.  Oh wow, PANCAKES, those sound delicious!  But do the have real maple syrup, of course not, it's the RayRay cafe.  Oh well, I'll just grab a breakfast sandwich and a cup of tea.  I head back to my desk, and eat my breakfast.  The entire time, I wish the the sandwich was a plate of pancakes with real maple syrup and the cup of tea was a nice glass of Johnny Walker Black Label scotch on the rocks. 

Everyday, give yourself a present. It doesn't matter what it is, don't plan it, just let it happen, even if it's not exactly what you want.

After breakfast, I decide to get to work, for I have some crazy enforcing to do, while my cube neighbor Scotty Schwarz does some vacuuming.  But, before I enforce, I must send everybody a message over chat, displaying a picture of their hometown city with "Good Morning, (home state)" written across the top.  DONE!

Everyday, give your great coworkers a present. It doesn't matter what it is, don't plan it, just let it happen.  It will make their morning, (Well, maybe)

Now, where was I?  Oh yeah, working.

*Hours pass, work, enforce, chat*

Suddenly, I realize, it's 12:15, time to get lunch with all my friends.  I head to the cafeteria, and everything kinda sucks.  So I grab 2.0 and we head out to Chipotle, the empire that I am the mayor of (on Foursquare).  I enjoy a great barbacoa beef burrito, inside, where it's not too windy, or too hot, or too sunny, or too loud.  "Half hour" lunch.

Everyday, give yourself a present. It doesn't matter what it is, don't plan it, just let it happen, even if you have to blow off your friends in the caf.

*Hours pass, work, enforce, chat*

(Oh no, I'm beginning to crave the deliciousness that is a craft beer, from my favorite bar, The Dash-In)

*Hours pass, work, enforce, chat*

5:30PM! Work Done!  I put my green jacket back on and swish my way back to my ol' Mazda.  Back in my apartment, I realize that I still do not have internet in my apartment.  So I spend the next 15 minutes on the phone with Comcast, getting my internet to work.  It goes incredibly smooth and I am free to use the internet however I like.  So, I get on skype and talk with my girl, "Mrs. T-Rayn" (AKA The Mrs.)  However, I tell my friends that I am still on the phone with Comcast. 

Everyday, give yourself a present. It doesn't matter what it is, don't plan it, just let it happen, even when you have to lie to get what you want.

Would you look at the time!  It's 10pm! Wow, time flies when you're talking with the Mrs.  Leeroy, Scott, and Twhuangski have been at The Dash since 8. I throw on my ND game day T-shirt, my ol' pumas and head downtown. Awesome, now I can get what I really wanted, a Red's Rye. 

I take a sip, then a full drink, then I just take the rest.  Oh yeah, I'll have another.

Ahhhhhhhhh, yeah this is all I really wanted, all I needed, and definitely what I deserved.  What a great way to end the day.

Everyday, give yourself a present. It doesn't matter what it is, don't plan it, just let it happen.

Goodnight Mrs, goodnight friends, goodnight Cathy (of course).

(Enjoy T-Ray, T-Ray's family, Friends)

Check here for Matthew TW Huang's take on "Being T-Rayn"

Goodnight Cathy (from me now).

Seasoned Veterans

OH NO!

So today was the start of our Wiffleball tournament at work.  It is a great opportunity to get outside during lunch time at work and just have a great time.  My friend Twhuang and I decided to start our own team this year called the Wafflers. (Oh, yeah).  This turned out to be more of an ordeal than we thought it would be.  The rule that we must have two girls on the field at all times made setting up a team difficult, since there are a lack of females at our work already, and many of them are leaving us or already joined other teams.  (I think we smell bad).  But, it all worked out, and we set up a team that was seemingly dominant.  I mean, c'mon, we were a team of young, energetic, atheltic people ready to knock some out of the park and score (my prediction) at least 7 runs per game and win 5 in a row for the championship.  I may have been a little cocky.

A lot cocky.

It did not go well.  We lost 5-1.  My solo shot in the 3rd inning was the only mark on the board.  I wouldn't say the team we were playing was "old" but they were definitely older than us.  And 5-1 doesn't even give the blowout justice.  They had quite a few more hits than we did and there were at least 2 innings that we faced less than 5 pitches as a team.  These experienced veterans were much better than us, and it turns out, team chemistry was important, as they have been a team for the past 3 (or 4) years.

Now this loss was very dissapointing, and it got me thinking, I have lost to some "seasoned veterans" quite a bit since this summer began.  I am also in a golf league, made up of mostly retirees from my company.  Guess how many matches me and my teammate LeRoy have won.  TAKE IT LEBRON!!!



Well, LeBron, you're definitely closer this time, just not quite correct.  We have not won 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, or 7 times.  We have, in fact, won ZERO times.  These retirees kick our ass week after week.  The closest we have come is 12.5 to 5.5 and we are in dead last in the league.  I mean, they do get out there and play a heck of a lot more than us, since much of our time is spent working or drinking at the Dash-In.  However, they also need to use a 3 wood for shots that I use a 7 iron for, surely we could win at least one, right? Nopety, nopety, nope.

Well, luckly, I have some oppotunities to stop this trend coming up.  We have a golf match tomorrow afternoon and our first game in the losers bracket of the Wiffleball tournament on Thursday.  I hope I will be able to seize one of those opportunities for a victory.  We shall see.  I know my sabertooth tiger is probably cheering against me in my quest for a victory over the experienced.

But, still, Goodnight Cathy.

PS, there was a saber tooth tiger sighting today, made by my very own golf partner.  (Allegedly)

PPS tomorrow will begin a special new joint blogging section with matthewtwhuang.com .  BE EXCITED!!

Just another MAD Monday...

Oh no! Dumb dog.



So today was another Monday, and after a long weekend of PTO, it dragged along even worse than a normal Monday.  Most people would say Monday is the worst day of the weekend.  The day we have to wake up early again and spend the entire day catching up on all the work we slacked off on the previous Friday.  So earlier this year, our favorite New Yorker friend came up with a great idea for Mondays.  DRINK BEER!! And so started MAD Monday.

What a fantastic idea.  Is there a better reason to drink than because "it's Monday?" Also, we get a bonus that our favorite (only) local Brewpub has half off pints on Monday.  It started with just 3 people and a dream of something bigger.  Eventually, more of our people began to shuffle in.  We even had a group from Chicago join us for a few weeks.  But, seriously, they are just a great time with great people, and good beer, to pick us up after an already long week.  Today was no different.  It was, in fact, a great MAD monday experience.

The weather tonight was great, mid-70s, meaning we could actually sit outside.  Tonight was our favorite interns' last MAD monday before heading back to their respective schools soon.  Like all MAD Mondays, we had a great time, with some ridiculous conversations.  We also made some exciting plans for the coming summer/fall days.  We also had the opportunity to meet new friends, like Sarah.  She may not have wanted to meet us, and learn how we each had between 2 and 5 names, but great things always happen on Monday.  (Persistance never fails, I think.)  Surely it was a great pick me up that will make getting through the week that much easier.  (Should be an interesting week, including trips to Indy, Chi-town, and WIFFLE BALL.)  What a great Monday!

So the moral of the story is: why be a putz and hate Mondays when you can just drink beer instead?

Goodnight Cathy.

Sasquatch and Ninja Sasquatch

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

Tonight,  I am going to tell you all the story of my many sasquatch sightings so far this summer.  Yes, he is real.  Yes, there are more than one and they are different.  And yes, they are capable of being dangerous.  Also, they both seem to reside here, in Fort Wayne,  IN, lurking around golf courses all over town.

I first spotted sasquatch late spring/early summer this year at Brookwood Golf Club.  He is black and, believe it or not, he wears a yellow and silver shirt.  He, as you would expect, has typical Bigfoot tendencies and always finds the trees.  He definitely prefers the thick stuff.  This makes the golf course a great place for sasquatch to live.  Also, to my surprise, sasquatch is also a huge fan of the sand.  He must love taking vacations to the beach.  I have spotted this sasquatch quite a few times.  And he has been pretty good to me.

More recently, I have discovered a second sasquatch hanging around the local golf courses.  This one seems to be much more dangerous but also much more interesting to see in action, as he is much more powerful.  He is much bigger, all black, and armed with ninja stars.  Me, and a few of my friends who have also spotted him,  refer to him as the Ninja Sasquatch.  He is a huge fan of the thick trees, so you definitely need to be on your heels when he's around.  In fact, it was just today I spotted him at Colonial Oaks while on the tenth tee box.  He found his way all the way to the thick tree line bordering the left side of the 18th hole.  Fortunately, I recovered from this sighting and had a pretty good day on the golf course.  He doesn't appear to be a big fan of the sand, like the other one.  He has been alright to me a few times, but when he's in a bad mood, he gets very hostile.  That's when you see his ninja stars come out and cause grave danger.

So now all of you know that when golfing in town to keep an eye out for the two sasquatches running amok around the local golf courses.  I really wonder what would happen if my saber tooth tiger met the one of the sasquatches (sp?).  I heard a saber tooth tiger cub met one a couple years ago around Thanksgiving, and it didn't work out too well for the Tiger who was with th saber tooth tiger cub.  That is all I have for tonight.  I hope you enjoyed it!

Goodnight Cathy.

(I wonder if anyone will be able to figure out what I'm actually talking about.)

BONUS POST: Awkward Moment of the Day 8/4/2012

So today, I attended Brew Haven, a craft beer "festival" (if you will) in beautiful(?) New Haven, Indiana.  It was a great time with great friends.  So at one point I was getting a temporary tattoo from my favorite (only) local brewery.  Pretty Childish, I know.  At the same time, there was also a girl, about my age, also getting a tattoo, and a ridiculous dialogue went as follows.

Girl: "I think you're supposed to wet your arm first."

Guy giving tattoo: "No, it's better if you do it dry"

Girl: "That's what she said."

(A brief pause)

Girl (to me): "Never mind, that would hurt"

Me: "HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA"

What a ridiculous day.

I've Had Some Friends

"I've had some friends, some that I hardly know, but we've had some times I wouldn't trade for the world." -Rise Against, Swing Life Away (My high school senior song!)

Have there ever been truer words spoken?  Throughout the course of one's life, everyone has the opportunity to meet great people and gain great friendships(My saber tooth tiger has probably known a lot more people than I have).  However, due to various circumstances, we are often forced to say "goodbye" to those friends at some point.  It may be a friend that you have known for years, like throughout middle school and high school.  It may be a friend that you have only had the pleasure of knowing for a couple months or weeks or less. Sometimes you know when a friendship as it is is ending.  Other times, you leave and then, for some reason or another, you just lose contact with the person. But does the length of a friendship really matter at all?  As long as you've had the opportunity to make some great memories with a person, isn't it a complete success?

Unfortunately, in the past few weeks I have seen two great people move away to pursue greater opportunities elswhere.  This got me feeling nostalgic and looking back, not only at the great times with the afformentioned 2 people, but also all the great people I got to know throughout the days of high school and college, and the rest of my life's 23 years.  Some of these people I have been fortunate enough to keep contact with, and still get an opportunity to see occasionally.  Others, not so much.  But either way, I have some great memories I can always look back to for all of them.  And even though I may never see them again, or they may never be what they were to me before life took us in seperate directions, I know they will always hold a special place in my life, and may even be a part of making me into the person I am today.

So why do I grin when I play the third hole at Ironwood golf club in Hartland, MI?  Why do I shake my head when I hear the word "Gunz"?  Why do goats make me think about things like a bag of large panties and a reeses peanut butter cup, or a sore bright red ass, or a baby reindeer christmas decoration?  Why does the computer lab on the second floor of the engineering building at MSU give me a craving for a delicious Summer Shandy?  Why do the Backstreet Boys now make me think of getting kicked out of The Peanut Barrel and free Long Island Ice Teas?  Why do I turn red and shake my head with embarrassment when I hear "Hero" by Enrique Iglesias?  And why do now have a ridiculous fear of phonebooks?

Some know the answers to these questions.  Others do not, and that's ok.  These are just some of the memories I've had with great people.  And I guess they all came from times that I wouldn't trade for the world.  (Wow, would you like an extra slice of cheese with your blog post.)

I remember you and I miss you all.

Goodnight Cathy.

A Concert Going Experience

So last night I saw a concert in Detroit (Well, Auburn Hills, MI).  It was an interesting impromptu midweek trip.  Here was my experience.  Can you guess what concert I saw?

See I was there, you can tell from this crappy picture off my phone.

I took a car downtown (well, Auburn Hills) and I took what the offered me.  The lights go out and they can't be saved (but) we'll be glowing in the dark. And (they) turn the music up and the records on.  And all the kids they dance, they dance all night.  Listen as the crowd would sing, all the boys and all the girls, "You don't know how lovely you are."  And For some reason I can't explain, tears stream down your face, and every teardrop is a waterfall.  Then, finally, it was home, home where I wanted to go. But I feel my heart start beating to my favorite song, and it takes me back to the start.

EDIT: Goodnight Cathy.

A Late Night

Sorry Saber Tooth Tiger and Friends, but my post will be a little short tonight.   I had a late night with some great friends at a great local Downtown bar, The Dash-In. We had the opportunity to see some local song writers perform and accept critique from the audience.  It was an interesting experience, some were pretty good, others not so much. I would stay up late and give a full bedtime story, however, I'm making an impromptu midweek trip to Michigan tomorrow, and I need to get some sleep.  But don't worry my friends, I have a few fantastic posts coming your way, including the story of the Mayor and the Mrs., as well as a post that might have a little more of a depressing tone to it, but enough nostalgia to keep a slight grin on your face.  Both of these topics were discussed among good people tonight, and I look forward to sharing more.  Well, there is always tomorrow, so stay tuned.  You could always just read matthewtwhuang.com to tide you over.

Goodnight Cathy.

A Bold Olympic Prediction...

That looks shopped



Today at lunch, I was discussing the olympics with some of my coworkers and friends.  We started out talking about how Ryan Lochte dominated Michael Phelps in the IM then nemisised him again by preventing Phelps a gold medal in his second event with his shortcomings in the 400M relay.  And how ridiculous it is that Jordyn Wieber is eliminated from the gymnastics all-around because of a "questionable" rule that limits the amount of competitors in the finals to 2 from a single country.  And how the men's basketball team might be as dominant as the '92 dream team.  Then the conversation eventually made it to the opening ceremonies, the time when the host city comes onto the center stage and gets the opportunity to show off.  We compared the ceremony from the Beijing from 2008 to London's earlier this week.  The conversation eventually led one of my friends to comment "You know what would be a great city to host the Olympics?...Detroit." (Sarcasm)

This comment was clearly a cheap shot (Mayweather-Ortiz) directed at me, being a person who was born and lived 12 years in Grosse Pointe, a northern suburb of Detroit, from a New Yorker.  We all just kind of laughed this comment off (C'mon it's Detroit) and went back to work.  Later in the day, a friend sent me a Yahoo! link that listed Detroit as the number one Olympic snub because it applied, and was ultimately denied, to host the Olympics...guess how many times? GO! I think Lebron's got this.

WRONG AGAIN LEBRON.  The correct answer was, in fact, SEVEN times, the most recent being in 1972.

This got me thinking, why not Detroit?  Why can't Detroit host the Olympics say by 2040?   I predict they will.  Yes, Detroit is a city that is down.  It's dirty, crime ridden, corrupt, and in economic turmoil.  But behind all of the burned out, abandoned buildings, a beautiful skyline of a once thriving U.S. city exists.  Beneath every overgrown field is the once freshly cut grass of Tiger Stadium, where the Tigers won 2 World Series Titles.  And buried beneath every newspaper clipping headlining theft and murder are the great historical stories of the birth of the American auto industry in the "Motor City." 

Seriously? Why not Detroit?  As a country, have we not seen enough of our "joker" side?  The side that dyes their hair orange and shoots 70 innocent people in a movie theatre.  The side that sees a homeless man on the side of the road, and instead of helping them, beats them up and eats off 70% of their face. (Yes that actually happened).  When are we gonna see our "Batman" side?  The side that will do anything to save a once great city, no matter how much it seems like a lost cause or how much that city itself resists.  I mean imagine instead of Detroit standing up to America during the Super Bowl and saying "This is the Motor City, and this is what we do."  It's the United States of America standing up to the World during the Olympics and saying "This is Detroit, a city that hit rock bottom and we brought them back up to the top.  WE are the Motor City, and this is what WE do."  That would be pretty cool.

So can Detroit recover from being denied the Olympics 7 times, it's crime rates that are way above the national average, it's absolutely depressing look, it's corruption, and it's economic problems and the economic problems of the great state it in which it resides by 2040?

...Maybe we should give them until 2048.

Goodnight Cathy.

What's my name again?

STEVE HOLT!!

If I'm going to get to know you, maybe I should let you in on why people are calling me names other than Steve, my Saber Tooth Tiger and friends.

Nicknames. Nicknames, nicknames, nicknames.  They are an intriguing part of life, aren't they?  First you destest them, then you accept them, then, finally, you embrace them.  Anybody can call you a nickname, but only your real friends know why and how you got your nickname, and make sure they stick. Since you are all my friends, I will give you the low down on some of the more interesting and impactful nicknames I've had in my life.

First, we're going to go all the way back to middle school, when I had the nickname Stephenengland.  Yes, that's right, my full name was my nickname.  One day riding the bus (dude, the bus sucks) somebody decided that my first and last name flowed together so smoothly that he began calling me Stephenengland.  It stuck instantly.  Everybody started calling me by my full name at all times.  I was Stephen Gregory England and had the nickname Stephenengland.  That is, until high school and the absolutely memorable times on the high school football team.

Now, I was not the fastest person on my football team, or the biggest, or the strongest, or the...oh what the hell? Let's face it, I wasn't athletically gifted in any way imaginable.  However, to my teammates on the great H-Town Eagles, I will always be known as Gunz.  Oh Yes, welcome to the Gunz show.  I don't really remember the exact origin of this nickname, I think it was sometime during a weight room session I was lifting, and a coach walked by and said "C'mon Guns", or something like that.  But this name really stuck. First with my teammates, then all around school, even some of the teachers may have referred to me as Gunz one time or another.  Definitely the most funny, and ridiculously ironic nickname I've ever had.

In college, I got another nickname related to my real name.  I was introduced to somebody, now a friend of mine, who heard my name Steve England and said "What, like Steve Holt?"  To which I obviously responded to by raising my hands in the air and yelling "Steve Holt!" imitating everybody's favorite dumb jock from TV's Arrested Development.  To that group of friends, I am now forever known as Steve Holt!.  That name has been written on walls on bars all over East Lansing, and now when I return, there are multiple occasions when I show off my Steve Holt! impression.

Finally, we get to present times.  College and high school are over, but I still managed to be more familiarly known as a name that is not my own.  Today, I am known as Scott, Scotty, Scott Schwarzinger, or Schwarz.  It started months ago, when I was mistakenly called Scott during a presentation I gave at work.  Three friends were in attendance, and just looked at me and smiled when I was called Scott.  I instantly knew that my days being known as Steve were officially numbered.  I obtained a last nickname while golfing, involving a mispronounciation of the Slazenger brand golf ball.  But anyway, Scott has gotten way out of hand.  I now have to introduce myself as "Steve, but you may here people call me Scott" or "Nice to meet you too, my name is actually Steve though."  I am pretty sure there are some of my friends who have never called me by my real name.  It also started a trend where all newbies to the group were given new names, like Kyle or, of course, Cathy, my Saber Tooth Tiger.  (C'mon, you didn't think I would disclose the real name of my Saber Tooth Tiger, did you?)

Well, sorry for the long post, but I had way too much fun writing it. 

Goodnight Cathy.

Hello World

Haha, Python^

This is an introduction.  Hello Blogosphere, great to meet you.  This will be an absolutely amazing blog providing my thoughts, opinions, experiences, or whatever else I feel like writing about.  This blog will be anything I think my Saber Tooth Tiger would like to hear about before falling asleep.

Maybe I should give some information about myself, the author.  My name is Steve, well, it might be Scott, but we'll stick with Steve for now.  (I'm sure that will come up at some point.)  I am an electrical engineering graduate of Michigan State University, currently living in Fort Wayne, IN after living in MI my entire life.  By the way, Michigan is statistically the best state.  I love sports, I will post about sports, whether you or my Saber Tooth Tiger wants to read about it or not.  I like meeting new people, experiencing new experiences, and trying new beers, and I look forward to sharing about them all.  I could be anywhere, but I'm right here, and I'm living life right now, and I want YOU to know all about it. 

Well, that is all I have for my first post.  I hope you are as excited about this as I am.

Oh, and as for the awesomely unique name for this blog, I'm sure I'll eventually tell the story of how it came about.  But, I will hide it in a blog post and only allow the most dedicated readers learn where it came from.  You should want to hear it, it's a pretty funny and ridiculous story. 

Well, now that's it.

Goodnight Cathy.