The Dead Dolphin

My dad tells about the time when an unlikely dolphin and a night out made for an interesting evening.

How to Fix NASCAR

I consider myself a lover of most sports--particularly sports that incorporate some sort of ball and/or some striking (of the ball), kicking, running, and vigorous physical activity. Just so I know I'm covering all of my bases I'll even throw in the sports that consist only of punching or hitting an opponent en route to victory. These sports are enjoyable to watch for a number of reasons; the objective is clear, the movements and action during the game, match, meet or event vary from moment to moment increasing the level of watchability and, there is quite a bit of room for commenting with your fellow spectators. For example, "Wow, that was a great pitch! He really brought his A-game today." or, "Man! He punched that guy square in the teeth. How could he just leave his whole face exposed like that?" or even, "Everything the offense throws at the defense is being shut down today! They're not giving them an inch! This game will go down in history as one of the greatest displays of defensive mastery ever played out on an athletic field."

These are just some of the reasons I, and many other sports lovers enjoy the sports we do. However, there is one sport I don't enjoy for one simple reason. I can't. The main reason is probably because I can't find room to incorporate my previous list of reasons why most sports are enjoyable to watch. This sport is the National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing, otherwise known as NASCAR. This dizzying sport was started by one Bill France Sr. and apparently finds its early origins in the bootlegging hills of the Appalachian region of the United States. I never knew Bill France Sr. and I don't know any bootleggers, but if I was ever given the chance I would suggest some ways to improve the great National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing. So, what follows is a list of ways to improve this sport, written and compiled by myself and a good friend. They appear in no particular order or degree of importance simply because applying any one of them would bring NASCAR to its full potential of watchability. Here they are:

1. At any point during the race, pre-selected fans should be allowed to drive monster trucks onto the race track in the direction of the drivers. This would test the driver's hand-eye coordination as well as incorporate a sense of team pride into the race because the monster truck driving fans could drive towards an opposing team's car, upping the chances of a home team victory.
2. The Paintball Compton 500. Instead of an annular track, why not hold a race in Compton and have random drive by paintball shootings from red or blue cars equipped with hydraulics interfere with the race. This increases watchability while giving the drivers a new look at culture in an urban environment along with giving people a fun and safe alternative to actual bullets.
3. The James Bond Open. One car is equipped by Q to launch rockets and drop oil slicks during the race. The identity of the 007 car is not disclosed until the race is over.
4. Large gaseous men ride shot gun with the driver, prohibiting him to role down his windows until the race is finished. This would increase the speed of the race which would free up valuable air time for other sports. It would also get rid of that weird net window thing.
5. The Kids in the Car Sprint Cup Series. This race would take place during the summertime with two random, and fairly devious children in the back seat who constantly argue and ask, "Are we there yet!" This option allows children to enjoy the sport close up. We could even mic-up the drivers to hear their responses. I'd imagine they'd say something like, "WE'RE ALWAYS THERE! WE'RE DRIVING IN CIRCLES!!!!"
6. Include a half-pipe.
7. Include car jackers at pit stops. This would incorporate an element of competitive fighting during the race as opposed to the random angry tizzy fights that take place after a driver has already crashed or worse, after the entire race is over. I read an interesting article on this and discovered that one driver/angry loser was also a Golden Gloves boxer. Unfortunately the fight took place after the race. If only they could've found a way to incorporate the Golden Glover's skills into the competition.
8. Put the cars into a huge parking lot made to look like a football field and have eleven stock cars with convertible tops line up across from another eleven and play a game of NASCAball (National Association for Stock Car Ball). This makes the speed of the cars a bit more interesting to watch. It also gives the drivers a chance to use more of their insight and deductive reasoning as they construct different plays. It wouldn't be a bad idea to incorporate the Wonderlic test in there somewhere either. Maybe as an alternative to a qualifying race.
9. Allow texting while driving. This makes perfect sense because it incorporates two activities that are illegal and/or unwise everywhere else in the country besides a circle shaped race track: texting behind the wheel and driving over the speed limit. It could also be an educational tool used to teach teenagers and irresponsible, single thirty-somethings about the dangers of texting while driving.
10. Incorporate real soccer fans, anywhere. The mix of redneck silver-tongued, toothless swagger, light beer, and pure, unaimed, frenzied and chanting angry passion should make for an interesting day at the race track.

Maybe in the next few years one of these will catch on. In the meantime, I'll be watching football and hoping for the day I can enjoy a race with friends.

Here is that article I referenced: Flying Fists: Rating NASCAR's top 5 fights

* The name of my "good friend" was omitted from this entry to save his life from the angry pummeling he would get from another good friend who is a real lover of NASCAR and doesn't see the need for any improvements. I will endure whatever punishment would come his way as a result of his inclusion in this entry.

Faithful are the wounds of a friend;

profuse are the kisses of an enemy.

Proverbs 27:6

God Ruined My Dinner

Last night my wife and I had a friend over for dinner. We don't have any children yet, and so we have the luxury of entertaining company in the cozy confines of our little apartment. Cindy made pork loin, roasted potatoes and mixed veggies; the table was set, the company had arrived and we were gathered around our sturdy, pine Ikea dining room table to pray. As I lead us in the prayer I thanked God for the food and acknowledged Him as the giver of all things good, I thanked Him for the company of friends and community, then I prayed that His hand would be on our time and that He would use it to bring glory to Himself by way of His Spirit. In Jesus' name I prayed, Amen.

Pork is not something we make often and Cindy, forgetting that it is "the other white meat" kept asking, "Babe, is it done? I'm not sure if it's done. Is it done? Look at it, is it supposed to be that color?"

"Babe, it's done," I said poking at the meat, "It's the other white meat. That's the right color and--Mmmm. Yea babe, it's really good. This is good." Our dinner guest agreed, but noted that it was a little salty. In a few seconds, the salty quality of the meat or its color wouldn't matter at all.

As I reached for a bit of my taters I heard a weird cracking noise, a loud pop and Cindy yelling, "Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!" Now the details are a little fuzzy for me because everything happened so fast, but I do remember one thing distinctly; looking up at the ceiling fan above the table, seeing its light bulb explode and then saying something like, "WHAT IS THAT! WHAT IS THIS?! WHAT?!" It wasn't the pop, or the bulb that caused my quizzical expression. It was the steady stream of water coming out of the ceiling fan, around the bulb's glass cover, plummeting onto our dining room table and into the lovely sodium filled pork loin my wife had prepared.

By this time Cindy and our dinner guest had scurried into the kitchen with the plates, and I followed close behind with the other white meat in hand. Once the food was safe, like a good husband, I walked back over to the scene of the crime to investigate. What was I supposed to say or do really, water was coming through the ceiling at a place I never expected to see water come from. I couldn't fix it, and didn't want to touch it because I remembered hearing somewhere that water and potentially live wires filled with electricity don't go well together, especially when a person is involved. I called maintenance.

"Yes, hello. Yes, I'm--Oh my name? Anthony. Yea, well there's wat--my apartment number? One-one-zero-six. You see the problem--My building? I'm in the first building and there's water coming through my ceiling fan and onto our dining room table." A few minutes later a portly gentlemen came knocking on the door and we got to the bottom of our dining room now turned water wonder land amusement area. There was a leak in the kitchen above us that managed to make it's way through the floor and eventually through our ceiling fan onto dinner. The leak was fixed but dinner was not, and we frankly had lost our appetites.

We made our way into the living room where for the next couple of hours we spent time talking about the Gospel's work in our hearts, we challenged each other to live out the Gospel in areas we noticed were in need of growth and sought ways to help one another in those areas, we brainstormed and made plans for how we could as a community group serve a newly married couple who is in need of some encouragement in their first few months of marriage, and we prayed for them, one another and our local church community. God had taken plans for dinner and used them solely for His purposes. I am certain that none of that would have happened had it not been for the unlikely leakage on dinner. Praise God, for He does all things well.

For from him through and to him are all things. To him be glory for ever. Amen.

Rom 11:36

And he does according to his will among the host of heaven and among the inhabitants of the earth; and none can stay his hand or say to him, "What have you done?"

Daniel 4:35

Death of A Young Egg Shocks Neighborhood

It was a tragic scene yesterday at the corner of the 52^nd block of Chestnut street in West Philadelphia. Humpty, a young egg walking home from school with his friends as usual, fell victim to a horrific accident. He, along with his companions thought it might be fun to climb a wall in the backyard of Philadelphia resident James Kingcrumb. “I didn’t even know the kids were out there, not until I heard the noise,” tells Kingcrumb. The noise Kingcrumb heard was Humpty, who lost balance along the wall and plummeted to the pavement, his hard shell and gooey insides leaking out into the street. Kingcrumb hastily tried to assemble the pieces, but it was too late.

Kingcrumb relayed his feelings to reporters with a mixture of anguish and aggravation, “I knew he was gone when I could smell him cooking on the hot summer pavement--that’s when I called the police. It’s sad you know, because this stuff happens too often in this neighborhood; just the other day a young piece of cheese was sliced to bits up on Baltimore Avenue, right outside the pizza place. It just really upsets me. . . makes me sick, because. . . you know. . .we all have to live here and nobody wants to live like this. I feel for the young kids in this neighborhood, they’re the ones who have to grow up in this environment and, well. . . it’s just horrible. Something needs to be done, this is just ridiculous…this can’t go on.”

Humpty’s friends declined to comment for reporters but have been seen entering and exiting the Humpty home all day, more than likely to offer their condolences and express their sorrow for the tragic accident.

“You never expect this kind of thing to happen right in you’re own backyard,” said Kingcrumb, “I guess now that it has, it’s not going over very easy for me. It’s just hard.”

Creative Liberties