Eating Vietnamese food, sleeping, jumping on a trampoline, sleeping on a trampoline, hiking, exploring, drinking a Pepsi (inadvisable activity… wake up people, Coca Cola Classic is THE DEAL), driving in the mountains, being licked by 7 dogs at the same time, riding four-wheelers around 30+ acres of some gorgeous Tennessee Valley scenery, more hiking, eating at Hardees for the first time in years (inadvisable activity), sleeping, working on illustrations for an upcoming Relevant Books project, watching a YMCA soccer game while simultaneously watching the Blue Angels air show in the distance, playing kickball with (mostly) adults, eating a strange concoction of cheese, popcorn, chicken fingers, croissants, and pink lemonade for dinner, watching Scream 3 (inadvisable activity), and being sore in places that haven’t been sore in years (thank you, four wheeler handlebars and kickball.)
What did you do this weekend?
In the instantly classic words of my coworker Mat Turner, “have an awesome Halloweekend.”
I was thinking of this on the way into work today: it would be handy if every car was outfitted with a built-in cell phone and the cell number was the license plate number (with a state code for each state that functions much like an area code does.)
This would come in handy in lots of situations. For example, on the way to work this morning I could have simply called the plate number of the van in front of me to tell him that his left back tire was low and in need of some air. Or I could have called the two adorable little white-haired ladies in the very large Oldsmobuick to tell them that they were, in fact, driving on the wrong side of the median in downtown. Or I could call the suit-and-tie-d gentlemen in the Montero in front of me on Broad Street to tell him he should pay attention to the road and not the backside of the girl walking on the sidewalk.
The possibilities are endless.
Of course, eventually we’d have to deal with getting someone’s vehicle voice mail. And then telemarketers. (And then TARGETED telemarketers. “Mr. Blankenship, we see that you have an Apple sticker on the back of your ‘95 Honda Passport… if you turn left at the next light, you’ll find more grrrreeeeat computer deals at Willis’ House of Electronics and Waffles”)
What’s your Halloween costume this year?
If you haven’t heard, the NBA is implementing a dress code for its players and there’s quite a ruckus about it. The new code would ban chains, pendants or medallions (read: bling), throwback sports jerseys, sleeveless shirts, etc. and force all players to wear “business casual” while on team or league business. Injured players would be required to wear a suit while sitting on the bench during games.
You can read TIME and ESPN’s take on it.
There are of course allegations that the new policy is “anti-hiphop” (read: racist) and many players say they’ll fight it. (One even went so far as to say that maybe they needed a clothing allowance… he makes 7mil a year by the way.)
So, are the multi-millionaire man-children being forced to grow up and look professional or is the NBA out of line?