Making an Idiot Out of Myself – Regular Guy

I Did It!

brian — Thu, 31 Mar 2022 15:46:10 +0000

Finally! I have achieved my goal and blogged every single day of March. This silly little challenge was just a personal effort to see if I could get back into the routine of something I had kind of pushed to the background.

But I succeeded and now have 31 days of fantastic content for you to enjoy.

Oh, yeah, right. There’s something like 11 or 12 days worth of posts up there. I forget and don’t feel like going back and re-counting.

I still feel proud of that accomplishment given how sporadic I have posted over the past few years. I got a few thoughts out of my head and will hopefully find some sort of rhythm in the future.

There were a few things that contributed to me not making the goal:

Work has just been a bear for a while now. We have another person in my department so that helped some, but it’s still kind of crazy. That brings about mental fatigue that makes writing a chore since I write a lot all day, even if we’re just talking about e-mails.
I continue to throw myself into Football Manager content and question whether this should become a Football Manager blog or not. I love the game and have enjoyed making content, but am not sure whether I want to add writing about it to my plate. So I am focusing more on YouTube and streaming on Twitch for now.
Things started to peter out around March Madness. That is not a coincidence. Even once that big weekend is done, my mind is still reeling. I wouldn’t change a thing.
I am just plain lazy and would rather knock out a quick Tweet or Facebook post.
COVID fatigue is still real, y’all.

But I will probably fill this space with my words of nonsense more in the future. I have a personal challenge in mind for April. It will likely not result in something for public consumption, but it will cross something off the list of things I have in my brain and need to get out.

A Day Late and Many Dollars Short

brian — Wed, 02 Mar 2022 19:38:20 +0000

I made a private promise that I would blog every day in March. I didn’t share this with anyone because I know myself and had low expectations. But here is my first post of March explaining why I didn’t post on the 1st of March.

The problems started a while back. We randomly lost Internet one day. I went through rigamarole with Comcast online and eventually got the service restored. At the end of the call, I agreed that a tech did not need to come out because everything was working.

Plus, I might have to pay for that service call. Mind you, I can afford to do that. The idea just didn’t appeal to me if everything was fixed.

Fast forward a few weeks and we start having random dropouts. The only solution is to turn off both the modem and router and turn them back on. High-level stuff.

Then it starts happening more. Like, every 30-60 minutes sometimes. So I contact Comcast again, this time on Feb. 28. They immediately tell me I need a new modem – which is not untrue because I have increased the speed of our package, but that shouldn’t be causing the problem. I tell them we need someone to come look at the line into the house.

So they schedule that. Then they try to move up our appointment for a time I told them we were not available. So I get snippy in the Twitter DM thread and they schedule us for the afternoon of March 1.

The first thing the guy does is say we need a new modem. Then he spends a while working on the outside lines, which had been damaged by squirrels. That gets repaired, and he tells us that everything is working fine.

Then it dies again. Reset. Dies again. So I do what any smart person should do – grudgingly admit they may have been right and head out to Target to get a new modem.

Setup is easy, peasy. We climb into bed. Maria turns on our Fire Stick.

And it dies again. At this point, I’m gutted. It can’t be our router. It just can’t. I don’t know why I refuse to accept this, but I do. So I do a factory reset of the router. Then another when it won’t connect. Then a third. At some point in there, I order a new mesh router package on Amazon.

My router finally connects. Then is not connected when I wake up in the middle of the night. I resign myself to us having to just use the hard-wired connection to the modem and the data on our phones until the new router shows up. Until …

Target has pretty much the same router for the same price. So I got it this morning. And it’s easy to set up. Now we have Internet again, hopefully for good.

So that’s why I will write a blog post every day in March except one.

Awkward Workplace Encounters

brian — Thu, 26 Mar 2020 14:03:29 +0000

During this time of social isolation and working from home, some of us may miss those awkward interactions we have with co-workers every day. My new video series aims to help fill that void.

Follow me on Instagram, Twitter or subscribe to the playlist on Youtube.

Big Mouth Success

brian — Mon, 11 Sep 2017 13:33:24 +0000

The beginning of the York Fair reminds me of my first introduction to the event in 1992. They had bungee jumping that year at the fair.

One day, I went to lunch with a group of fellow Evening Sun reporters. This was our routine. I want to say we were at the Little Red Schoolhouse or the old Blue and White downtown. The discussion turned to the bungee jumping at the fair.

As the only sports reporter in this group, I did not have to cover the fair. Everyone else was assigned to one day of fair coverage. I took this opportunity to declare that if I did have to spend a day at the fair for work, I would totally bungee jump and write about it.

Someone at the table said, “Well, I’m covering the fair this afternoon. I’ll give you a ride so you can do it.”

My big mouth had caused trouble before. This time, however, an extra layer to the story – I had a huge crush on the person who dared me to put my money where my mouth was.

So I got in that now familiar blue Dodge Colt, scared shitless, but also worried that I could never ask this girl out if I backed out on this.

We made it to York, I kept true to my word, and we spent the rest of the day hanging out together at the fair. A week or so later, we started dating for real.

Little did I know that the bungee jumping boast would be the first of many, many, many times where my wife would call me on my BS.

Danger on the Streets

brian — Thu, 06 Jul 2017 18:38:15 +0000

I often poke fun at people who try to portray Hanover as a dangerous community. I mean, it’s not Mayberry, but the reality is that as long as you don’t look for trouble, you usually won’t find it.

I often project this through bragging about walking home after a night downtown, either because I just felt like walking or because I know I shouldn’t be behind the wheel of a car. However, the jokes came to an end when I walked home from a friend’s house after a Fourth of July cookout recently.

My wife had already headed home with the car, and we don’t live too far away so I decided to walk home when I was done having fun. This was on July 3. We had a nice night so I looked forward to enjoying the stroll.

As I walked up Moul Avenue, I noticed a shadow ahead. Had someone left something on the ground? Could I be a Good Samaritan and return a lost item? Would this be my way of making the job easier for the folks who had to clean up the park?

Nope!

I honestly think I would have acted more calmly if someone did hold me up with a gun. I did a little dance down the sidewalk past the critter – he barely acknowledged my presence – and then walked the next few hundred feet looking back over my shoulder every few steps to make sure he wasn’t tracking me.

That could have happened, you know. My theory of an angry band of woodland creatures starting their own society in the Rail Trail woods has gained steam ever since my wife and some other friends have shared news of a bird attacking people in that vicinity.

The animal uprising is real. I am just glad I managed to escape unharmed.

This time.

Wearing a New Hat

brian — Tue, 07 Jan 2014 16:00:42 +0000

I got really worried for a few moments. One of my sisters-in-law wanted to present me with a special gift in front of everyone at our family’s Christmas Eve celebration.

I had no reason to distrust her. It’s the ones I am related to by blood that I didn’t trust.

As the youngest, this feeling comes natural. One Christmas, my brothers wanted to show me that Santa thought I hadn’t measured up to his standards by putting baked beans and dirty underwear in my stocking.

My parents thankfully stepped in and, always appreciating a good joke, put the items in one of my older brothers’ stockings. I was probably 4 or 5 at the time so they could have scarred me for life.

So I came by this nervousness honestly. You can put me on stage in front of a bunch of strangers, and I have no problem making a fool out of myself. But put that into play in front of my family, and I get a little worried.

She started off with a little speech, telling everyone how she and my brother get a kick out of my regular updates about life in a small town like Hanover. Most of my siblings live in larger communities and don’t get to enjoy the amount of civic interaction that we do.

I stood there waiting for the other shoe to drop as she said nice things about me. If she liked the way I had decided to live my life, how could this be turned into a cruel prank? What did these people have up their sleeve?

When I opened the bag, I could not believe my good fortune. They had somehow come up with the perfect way to recognize me for getting involved in groups like the Knights of Columbus, the Girl Scouts and the Lions Club.

We watched a lot of television as kids. I think the constant viewings of programs like TheThree Stooges, the Dick Van Dyke Show and M*A*S*H have played a big role in my ability to make people laugh.

One of our favorite selections was The Flintstones. That doesn’t make us unique – who doesn’t love the most famous residents of Bedrock? Whenever a wedding anniversary happens, you can pretty much guarantee at least one member of my family will post a picture of 88 Fingers Louie and the fellas singing their famous song.

That’s why I could not believe my eyes when I pulled the blue Loyal Order of Water Buffaloes Lodge No. 26 hat from the gift bag. They didn’t want to make fun of me (OK, maybe they did a little because the hat is absurd in the most awesome way possible). They wanted to recognize me for having the qualities of the Grand Poobah.

I could not think of a higher honor. Plus, my teenage daughter gets horrifically embarrassed just at the mention of the hat.

Part of me wants to wear it proudly everywhere, but a bigger part of me knows that she would feel the same way I did standing in front of that room. A true Grand Poobah would never abuse his power like that.

Disaster Averted

brian — Tue, 28 May 2013 12:42:05 +0000

When I get ready in the morning, I don’t always connect the dots. I have to get myself cleaned up, get dressed, grab my lunch and grab my coffee before I hit the road.

Oh, and I need to talk to my wife a little bit. All of this takes place at or before 6 a.m. so I can never guarantee complete success.

I still leave my coffee sitting in the kitchen once in a while. Or I completely forget to fill up my travel mug. Those problems sometimes require a detour to grab coffee from a convenience store, but I sometimes don’t notice until I’m so far off the beaten path that I just need to soldier on and get my caffeine in the office.

I have done a better job over the years at not forgetting my lunch because few things ruin a day at the office more than knowing an awesome lunch sits in the fridge at home.

The getting dressed thing usually comes together with no problems. I might forget to wear a belt on occasion, but don’t have that formal of a workplace so that doesn’t matter much.

What does make a difference is when I do all of these things perfectly, but don’t really think about how Option A affects Decision B. I don’t notice those problems until it’s too late, like when I sat down for lunch at my desk a couple of weeks ago.

I had made my lunch the night before, throwing some leftover pasta into a microwaveable container with some sauce and frozen meatballs. That sounded like a delicious option, and I eagerly sat down a little after noon. That’s when I noticed the problem.

I wore a white shirt to work that day. The ramifications of this decision never crossed my mind as I got dressed. As I said, this is before 6 a.m. so I don’t always take the time to think about how much lunch might affect my wardrobe.

Marinara sauce has had a checkered past with my clothing. My wife once made me take off a white button-down I wore to work when I started to sit down at the table for dinner that night. She has seen what can happen.

Stuck at work with no backup wardrobe, I used a little extra care while eating. I paid closer attention to my surroundings as I twirled the pasta and cut the meatballs. In the end, I made it through the whole meal without spilling anything on my chest.

I felt vindicated. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops. I overcame my morning inattention to avoid walking around the entire afternoon with pasta stains on my shirt. I have had to do that before. It’s no fun.

A couple of days later I made a fantastic dinner from leftover taco meat and some tortillas we had in the fridge. As I prepared to sit down and dig in, I took a second glance at the white sweater I put on that morning. I thought for a moment before taking it off.

I tempted fate once that week. I didn’t like the odds of making it through another meal without a disaster.

Falling Down

brian — Fri, 10 May 2013 12:51:21 +0000

The same thing happens each year. My theatre friends try to goad me into auditioning for a musical. I remind them I can’t sing or dance. The show passes by, only for the same cycle to repeat six months or so later.

If I had only brought a video camera with me to the York Ice Arena last weekend, I might have convinced them for good that I don’t have the grace for that kind of performance.

I headed over to that facility to cover an arena football game for the York Daily Record. I love getting to experience new things and had never covered the indoor variety of the sport.

As is my custom, I checked out the concession stand at halftime. The visiting team from Harrisburg had taken a huge lead so I pretty much knew how my story would go at that point. Why not enjoy a soft pretzel?

That didn’t cause me any problems, but the action after my snack did. I went to go throw away my trash, making my way across the bleachers to the nearest trash can. As I stepped overtop one row of stands to the next one down, something happened.

I don’t know whether my ankle rolled – I have sprained each one pretty badly in the past – or I just lost my balance due to clumsiness, but I knew pretty quickly I had a situation on my hands. I had my work bag in one hand, the plate from the pretzel in the other and not much room to stumble gracefully.

Somehow, I managed to do a 180 as I tried my hardest to avoid simply falling on top of the people in front of me and had nowhere to go except straight down. So I prepared to keep my head up as I planted my body on the concrete floor.

One thing went wrong, however. As I landed, I felt a pop in my shoulder. Any athlete knows that feeling a pop never amounts to anything good. Any thought of being embarrassed quickly went out of my head as I worried about whether I had seriously injured myself on my way to throw away a paper plate.

Whatever popped out popped right back in as I worked my way to my feet. The folks around me checked to make sure I was OK – I commend them for not giggling at any point during this – and I made my way to the trash can. I spent the rest of the night covering the game and stretching my shoulder just to make sure I hadn’t done some serious damage.

I have visited the doctor and don’t think anything major happened. I don’t have any more soreness at this point than I would after a day of over-exertion. I never had the best flexibility in the first place so I don’t have to deal with that getting any worse.

In the end, I just have another story about doing something clumsy in the course of my regular activities. I have said many times before that I have accepted the fate of being here to amuse others with my mistakes.

I just have no intention of doing that on stage in a musical. i have my pride after all.

If My Head Weren’t Attached …

brian — Tue, 27 Nov 2012 19:05:04 +0000

For a while, I convinced myself that I had merely been forgetful. I realized I did not have my wallet when I headed for home one night, but I just assumed I had left it behind and would find it when I returned.

That happened a little while ago when I left Hanover Little Theatre after a show (I hope you were able to make our recent run – it was a blast). Within 24 hours, acknowledgement of my absent-mindedness had turned into near panic.

Before that, I spent Friday at work expecting to find my wallet somewhere backstage. I had done a quick check of my credit cards and saw no activity. The thing had to be sitting with my props or, worst case, on the floor somewhere nearby.

But I didn’t find anything when I arrived for Friday’s show. I had looked around the house some before I headed out that afternoon, but came up empty. With no wallet in sight, I quickly texted my wife since she always does the looking for lost things better than I do.

Even she came up empty. She encouraged me to check my car, which I had already done. So I headed out in the dark and looked again. Nothing. She then took pity on me and left money so I could go out for a bite after the show.

I started to run out of ideas, but had this nagging feeling that if I didn’t look in the tried and true places, someone would find my wallet in one of those locations, making me feel like an idiot.

So I checked the car again. And the house once more. After I once again made sure no one had used any of my cards, I even started to think about going out to the theatre even though I had looked pretty thoroughly the night before.

With no activity on any of my accounts, I had trouble coming up with what could have happened. Had the wallet escaped into some unknown nook or cranny? Did I not reach far enough under some piece of furniture? Did I lose it and merely needed to wait for it to arrive in the mail thanks to some Good Samaritan?

No, I merely needed to go to the grassy area where I had parked during the evening on Thursday because the wallet fell off of the stack of things I carried into the theatre that night. I could almost see my wallet from my car as I drove up to the spot.

I had retraced my steps throughout my sleuthing, except the step where the wallet actually slipped from my grasp. Few incidents in my life encapsulated my problems more than that. So I scooped up the wallet and bought some lottery tickets on the way home.

As expected, they didn’t come through, but at least I saw the humor in the whole situation. I wish I could say the same for my wife, who didn’t find it funny when I came downstairs last Sunday and asked if she had seen my wallet.

This time I just left it on a desk in the computer room.

I Lost My iPod

brian — Fri, 29 Jun 2012 15:42:31 +0000

Growing up, I used to think the phrase “you’d lose your head if it wasn’t attached” was developed just for me. That’s how often my mother said it to me.

I can’t imagine what she’d say to me now if she were still alive. I lost my iPod last week.

As the time neared to board my plane in Chicago the other day – I was in town for a work conference – I made my final preparations. I reached into my pocket for my iPod so I could listen to a few podcasts on the flight.

But it wasn’t there. I rolled my eyes at myself and opened the outside pocket of my carryon. I must have thrown it in there when I put all the various charging cords I had to bring with me for the three-day trip. I rummaged around with no luck.

That’s when fear started to set in. Not real fear, mind you, but the kind that makes you realize you did something stupid and might be up the river without a paddle. The fear that makes you appreciate all the other times you came close to losing something but made one last check of your surroundings at the last second.

I thought I had done that when I checked out of my hotel room. I thought I had done that after I removed my items from the security bin at the airport. I hadn’t thought to check my pockets when I got out of the cab so my iPod could certainly have fallen out there.

But the reality is that I have no idea where I lost the music player I bought four years ago. The hotel doesn’t have it in its lost and found, which was my only real hope for a return. The iPod has no identifying information so someone out there has a new old iPod.

Don’t worry about me, though. I have decided to upgrade to an iPhone, albeit one where I pay a hefty price up front so i can use the cheaper monthly service which Virgin Mobile offers. My iPod-less pain will end this afternoon when the phone arrives. I’m worried though – the online tracker says the package was put on a truck at 8:11 a.m. and ~~there is no delivery conformation three and a half hours later~~ it was delivered three and a half hours later (right after I posted it was not delivered yet). Glad they didn’t lose it. Don’t they know that’s my job?