The Answer is "8,194"

So, Kim Kardashian is filing for divorce, citing irreconciliable differences with her husband, Kris Humphries.  I am shocked.

Here's the press release Kim issued: “After careful consideration, I have decided to end my marriage.  I hope everyone understands this was not an easy decision. I had hoped this marriage was forever, but sometimes things don’t work out as planned. We remain friends and wish each other the best.”

Let's take this one sentence at a time:

• "After careful consideration, I have decided to end my marriage."  As Chad Ochocinco would say, "Child, please."  Careful consideration?  Kim, you were married for 72 days!  I'm pretty sure I gave more careful consideration to whether or not I should break up with my 7th-grade girlfriend.  (For the record, I decided to stick it out.  That paid off in spades.  A few days later, she sent one of her friends over to tell me that she was breaking up with me.)
• "I hope everyone understands this was not an easy decision."  Yes, Kim, I understand.  You must be terribly exhausted from all that really hard thinking stuff that you had to do to come to this decision.  Why don't you go take a nap.
• "I had hoped this marriage was forever, but sometimes things don't work out as planned."  Kim, I know exactly what you mean.  It's kind of like in "Legally Blonde" when Elle Woods went to Harvard to follow Warner, only to find out that Warner already had a new girlfried.  Poor Elle.  Her dreams were dashed.  Wait -- what's that?  "Legally Blonde" wasn't a true story?  I'm sorry.
• "We remain friends and wish each other the best."  Let me help you out here, Kim.  Remember that girlfriend I had in 7th-grade?  Guess what?  We're not still friends.

In case you're wondering, the question is "How many more days than Kim Kardashian have I been married?"  May I please get some press coverage?

Occupying Penn State

I decided to multi-task (blogging while watching the Bills play the Redskins) and, literally, the Bills fumbled on the very first play after I powered on the laptop.  This doesn't appear to be a good move by me.  But, I've got a bunch to do this evening and I wanted to get this done.

We went up to Penn State this weekend to visit Hannah and see the Penn State - Illinois game.  Due to the freak late October snowstorm, our tailgate plans got scrapped.  So, while Kim and Hannah did some pre-game shopping downtown, Nick and I headed to the HUB to hang out and watch some of the early games on TV. 

When we walked into the HUB, the first thing we saw was Occupy Penn State.  A group of students had taken over a section of the main entrance and were camping out there.  Placards and hand-written signs surrounded them.  The signs brought attention to issues like rising tuition costs, student debt loads, and income disparity.

I'll stay away from commenting on the whole Occupy Wall Street movement and the specific issues that the Occupy Penn State students were raising.  But, I've got some advice for the students.  You'd probably get a lot more sympathy if you were occupying space outside at Penn State, particularly during a snowstorm.  Occupying a heated, enclosed area with comfortable chairs, multiple food options, and TV's showing that afternoon's football games doesn't really seem terribly inspiring.  Just a thought for you. 

By the way, on the Redskins drive following the fumble, the Bills notched two sacks and blocked a field goal attempt.  Maybe I should do my first live blog.

Still Smiling

The home page on our laptop is www.msn.com. Thank goodness because that meant that this was the first thing I saw when I went online tonight:  


Take a close look at the picture.  I see stitches, a black eye, and a cracked tooth.  I also see a smile.  That's Steven Tyler for you.

Steven says he got nauseous in the shower, passed out, and hit his head in his hotel room in Paraguay.  I don't really care what happened to him.  I'm just going to give him credit for smiling.

More Adventures in the Great Outdoors

We had a beautiful weekend in central Maryland.  It was sunny with high temperatures in the low 60's.  The leaves were at their peak colors.  All in all, it was a great weekend to be outdoors.

Kim and I took advantage of the weather yesterday by heading up to Catoctin Mountain Park to hike.  We did a 5-mile loop that took us to Maryland's biggest waterfall (which was more impressive than I thought it would be) and the two highest points in the park, which gave us great views of the surrounding countryside.  I didn't realize til we got to the park that it is the site of Camp David.  Unfortunately, they won't tell you exactly where Camp David is on the grounds so I wasn't able to stop by and say hello to Sasha and Malia.

As nice as yesterday was, it wasn't the highlight of my outdoor adventures over the weekend.  Nope, the highlight actually came on Saturday.

Two winters ago, the back-to-back huge snowstorms that we had knocked down a couple big cedars in the woods right behind our property.  At first, I tried to convince Kim that both cedars were still alive as they remained green for several months.  But, it soon became apparent that they were dead.  Each of them were about 25-30 feet high and, as they slowly died and their needles turned brown, they got pretty ugly.  To make matters worse, this summer they became covered with wild vines.  By the end of the summer, they were an eyesore.  If you sat out on either of our back patios, you couldn't help but notice the huge mass of limbs and brush.  Kim started to get after me to clear them out and, finally, I agreed.

So, this Saturday morning, I found myself out at the edge of the woods with my trusty chain saw (wearing my tick-repellent pants, in case you were growing concerned).  Whenever I get my chain saw out, there's always some sort of adventure.  Sometimes it's me falling off a ladder.  Other times, it's me setting the Bucci land speed record as I dash out of the way as the tree trunk comes crashing down exactly where I didn't plan for it.  As I fired up the chain saw, I asked myself what it would be this time.

Surprisingly, things went pretty well.  I worked slowly and carefully, pruning the vines and cutting away limbs and sections of both trunks at small intervals.  I cleared pieces as they fell to the ground so that I wouldn't trip over them.  Things were a little too uneventful.

As I finished up before lunch, I remembered that there was a stray dogwood in the woods about 20 feet to the left of the downed cedars.  That dogwood had a low-hanging limb about 7-8 feet up from the ground that was dead.  It was directly in view when I sat at our outdoor table.  Since I already had the chain saw out and things were going so well, I decided to cut that limb before heading in for lunch.  I should have known better.

I got to the tree, stood off to the side of the dead limb, and reached up to make my cut.  The limb was about 2 inches in diameter so the cut didn't take long.  The saw's blade finished its job and the limb started to fall to the ground.  In a split second, disaster struck.  The edge of the limb hit the ground, causing the top of the limb (where I had just made my cut) to kick back up in the air.  As it came down again, it shifted about 2 feet to the left and proceeded to come down right on my poor balding head.  "You've got to be kidding me," I thought, as I quickly blinked, saw a few stars, and then put my hand up to my head to check for blood.

The physical pain wasn't too bad.  But, another embarrassing episode with power tools?  It's getting kind of ridiculous.  I can't seem to do anything manly without some sort of sideshow.  What kind of example am I setting for my impressionable teen-age sons?  No wonder they stay far away whenever I try to be handy.

On the positive side, I've now got a couple nice scabs that are temporarily filling in some of the thinning spots at the front of my head.  I'll take that.

I'm So Glad I'm Not on Probation

I got my Lindsay Lohan fix this morning while eating my morning cereal.  Apparently, Lindsay failed to show up on time Thursday for her scheduled community service at the L.A. County morgue.  So, she got sent home.

Luckily for Lindsay, this doesn't count as a probation violation so she remains a free woman.  Unluckily for Lindsay, this triggered a whole new round of Lindsay-bashing:

• We got to see pictures of Lindsay being led from the courtroom in handcuffs earlier this week.  Poor thing.
• We got to hear criticisms of the make-up she was wearing in that very same courtroom.  I thought she looked fine.
• Best of all, we got a close-up still shot of her two front teeth.  That close-up accompanied the commentary about how she desperately needed dental work to "fix" the yellowing that was apparent.

Good Lord, I thought.  Can you imagine what would happen if Lindsay and I switched places?  My teeth (all 32 of them) would give the media fodder for a full week's worth of news.  They're not only yellow, they're also big and crooked.  That's a good enough reason to keep walking the straight and narrow.

Anyway, Lindsay's a mess but I still feel bad for her.  For me, she'll always be Anna Coleman in "Freaky Friday."  What an awesome movie.  I can't not watch when I stumble across it on TV.  Mark Harmon is perfectly uptight.  Jamie Lee Curtis is perfectly wacky.  Chad Michael Murray is perfectly dreamy.  And Lindsay is just perfectly perfect.  Or, at least, she was.

Feelings. Woh-woh-woh, Feelings.

As tough as it's been to be a Bills fan for the past 10 years, one good thing about their playoff drought has been that I haven't had many tension-filled Sunday afternoons in the recent past.  That's a far cry from how things were back in the 1990's when the Bills were in the playoffs virtually every year and it seemed like every game mattered.  The outcome of each week's Bills game used to go a long way towards setting my mood for the week.  I don't know how Kim made it through some of those years with me.

The Bills have been so bad for so long that I've pretty much forgotten how it feels to really care about an NFL game.  I'm starting to get the feeling back, though.  Thay may not be such a good thing.

Last week, I was lucky in that the Ravens had a bye week and the Bills - Eagles game was shown live down here.  I watched the whole thing.  It was a nail-biter but the Bills pulled it out at the end.  I couldn't even remember the last time I'd seen the Bills win a game on TV.  The "everything in the world is wonderful" feeling I had when the game ended was familiar.  I'd describe it as being almost like Christmas Eve.  You know, the early evening feeling when the clam chowder is heating up on the stove, you've got carols on in the background (preferably the Carpenters or John Denver), you're on your second glass of wine, and you're looking forward to that familiar, comfortable Christmas Eve church service.  Yes, life was good last Sunday.

Today, things were different.  The Bills - Giants game wasn't on TV so I had to follow it on the ticker as I watched the Eagles - Redskins game.  Even I got a bit tired of doing that and, just before halftime, I headed outside to rake leaves.  I couldn't take the suspense of not knowing what was happening, though, so I came back inside early in the 4th quarter.  By this time, the Giants had taken the lead.  For the rest of the game, I was zeroed in on the ticker.  I tracked the game as the Bills came back to tie the score, then started to get more excited as they got the ball back late in the game and started to move down the field.  I was getting that Christmas Even feeling all over again.  Sadly, it wasn't to be.  The Bills turned the ball over (in the red zone, of course) and let the Giants move right down the field to kick the winning field goal.

Just like I'd forgotten that winning feeling, I'd also forgotten how it feels when you really care about a game and your favorite NFL team loses.  Trust me, it's not like Christmas Eve.  Instead, it's more like waking up on the day of a scheduled dentist appointment.  You tell yourself that it's no big deal, you've been through it plenty of times before, and it doesn't really hurt that much to have that plaque scraped off your teeth.  You kid yourself and think that brushing and flossing a bit more thoroughly that morning will make the visit go by more smoothly.  But, it doesn't.  You've still got to sit in that chair for way too long.  You've still got to watch out of the corner of your eye as that bright shiny dental pick makes its way towards your mouth (again and again and again).  And, your gums are still going to bleed.

I hope not to have to visit the dentist on too many more Sundays this year.  Two cleanings a year is all that's recommended.  At 4-2 through week 6, I believe I've already met my quota.

Preparation and Trepidation

The Baltimore Half Marathon is this Saturday.  I'm signed up to run for the third straight year.  I have to admit that I'm not looking forward to it.

I think the reason that I've got some trepidation this year is that I've done less than my normal share of long runs this summer.  I've been topping out at 6 or 7 miles rather than pushing it to 9 or 10 as I've done in the past.  I think I've reached the point where the hills of western Howard County have beaten me.  It's pretty much impossible to go for a run of more than 7 miles around here without facing at least one mile that's straight uphill.  That thought is just too hard to face most weekend mornings.  I'm too old, my knees are too creaky, and my mental fortitude is not what it used to be.

While I've been cutting back on the long runs, I have come to realize that running for me has become almost an addiction.  If I don't run each morning, I get cranky.  To be honest, maybe I should say I get more cranky since I'm generally pretty cranky anyway.  This morning, I'm typing this instead of running because we're in the midst of a thunderstorm.  I realize that's a pretty good excuse but I know that, later today, I'll be grumpy and will look back and blame it on the fact that I didn't go out for a run.

I'll still be at the starting line on Saturday morning.  I'm sure miles 10-13 won't be too much fun and I'll be kicking myself saying that I should have gotten myself in better shape.  We'll see.

News flash.  Kim just let the dogs outside and it's stopped raining.  I'm off.  Lucky me.

It's Good To Be King

One of the primary goals of any parent is to have their child's life be better than their own.  For most, having a better life likely means having more fun, less stress, stronger relationships, and more significant personal accomplishments.  I think all three of my kids are on the right path.  But, while the verdict is still out on whether Hannah and Jay will make it, I can now say with certainty that Nick is home-free.  Why?  Because he's on the Homecoming Court.

Yes, Nick came home from school on Friday and announced that he's one of five senior boys elected to the Court for next week's Homecoming festivities.  He's happy about it and I'm proud of him.  Being on the Homecoming Court comes with all sorts of advantages.  Nick gets to preside over the pre-football game festivities for a full two hours.  He gets to march out to mid-field at halftime of the game with the other members of the Court and be formally introduced to everyone in attendance.  He gets to parade into the Homecoming Dance and be recognized by all the freshmen, sophomores, and juniors who are (I guess) his new minions.  And, he even gets his very own sash to wear, a sash that proclaims that he's a Homecoming King (or Prince, or whatever he is).

Of course, the best part of all this is that it creates all kinds of new opportunities for me to rag on Nick.  It's almost too easy.  I mean, come on, a sash?  My 17-year old son is going to wear a sash and I'm not supposed to say anything about it?

Anyway, now I'm focused on helping Nick get ready for his big weekend.  Since there's no Ravens game today, we'll have time to practice both his wave and his catwalk.  Thank goodness.

We've decided that Nick is going to take his fashion tips from this Homecoming King.

I wonder if Nick will get a cool crown like this guy's?  I hope so.  If he doesn't, they better at least give him a scepter.

I hope Nick doesn't get too choked up at his ceremony.  It's going to be bad enough that I'll be crying.

Comfortable Clothes

Summer’s officially over.  Usually, it hangs around for a while in the MidAtlantic but we’ve had a cold spell for the past week or so with high temperatures only in the mid-50’s.  That means sweat pants at night instead of shorts.  Normally, the transition from shorts to sweats would make me a bit sad.  Not this year.  This was the first summer in almost 20 years where I was without my trusty khaki J. Crew shorts.  I don’t know how I did it.

When I first got my new shorts from J. Crew, they were for “dress-up only.”  That era probably ended around 1995 after I’d been the recipient of a few too many sideways glances regarding my choice of clothes for a given event.  You see, I’d been cheating.  The shorts were just so darn comfortable that I’d been sneaking them in on weekends to do odd jobs around the house.  As much as I tried to keep this a secret, it became apparent to my fashion overseer and, soon enough, the shorts became off-limits for “dress-up.”

That was actually a blessing.  Now, the shorts were free to become my every day shorts.  When I say every day, I mean every day.  Those shorts and I were like a baby and its binky.  Together, we painted, cleared wooded areas of the yard, mowed lawns, planted landscaping beds, cut down trees, and spread hundreds of yards of mulch.  We cursed Mother Nature when she sent droughts that killed the dogwood and redbud trees we’d planted.  We cursed the deer when they ate our azaleas.  We cursed the bees when they stung me -- each and every time.  We had some good times, too, but I guess we cursed a lot.

By the end of last summer, even I had to admit that the shorts needed to go.  The seat was completely worn through on both sides.  I actually didn't see this as a problem but often heard otherwise from those who had to look at my underwear.  There were gaping holes in both front pockets.  The zipper had been up and down so many times that I’d worn through the fly.  So, I took a deep breath, choked back my tears, and tossed them.

This summer, I could never get completely comfortable with any of my shorts.  I bought two potential replacements from Eddie Bauer a few years back, knowing that I’d eventually need them.  I thought they’d help me through the transition but it just didn’t happen.  The new shorts are plenty nice but they’re years away from being where they need to be.  I’ve thought about running over them with my car or letting Wally and Ginger play a quick game of tug of war with them to try and accelerate the aging process but I can’t bring myself to do that.  They need to age naturally.

In any event, pulling on the sweats this year actually feels OK.  I’m hoping I’m over my loss by next year.  We’ll see.

Highlights From the Weekend -- So Far

Ever wonder what a 44 year old man does for fun on the weekend in Dayton, MD?   I thought so.  Here are the highlights from the first 36 hours:

• Friday night dinner.  Nick's at work and Kim's out for dinner with friends.  That leaves me home alone with Jay.  During dinner, we do some male bonding while watching "My First Place" on HGTV.  Jay questions me about how you figure out what your budget is for your new home purchase.  My first attempt at an explanation fails.  So does my second attempt.  Jay's persistent, though, so I try again.  Strike three.
• Friday night post-dinner entertainment.  I read an article recently about scary movies and the movie "Diabolique" was on the list.  So, I put it on our Netflix list (yes, we still have Netflix though we scrapped the streaming option).  "Diabolique" is a movie from 1955.  It's black-and-white.  In French.  With subtitles.  Perfect.  I've never watched a movie with subtitles before.  But, I stuck with this one.  It was good and the twist at the end took me by surprise.  But, it's not the least bit scary.  Maybe it was in 1955 but not anymore.
• Saturday morning.  Jay has early morning soccer practice.  I decide to drive him and then go park my car in a strange neighborhood so that I can go running in a new place.  I'm excited.  Seriously.  It's great to be able to look at new houses and fields while running.  I think I know every square foot of each yard within a 2 mile radius of our house.  Unfortunately, I can only go about 4 miles because the road is narrow and there's too much traffic.  My heart's pounding more from nerves than exertion.
• Saturday early afternoon.  Nick and I struggle through another painful Penn State football game in which the offensive execution is terrible.  I am firmly in the Matt McGloin camp now.  Rob Bolden just has no touch on any throw under 15 yards.  I've never seen a quarterback as unable to throw a simple screen pass.
• Saturday late afternoon.  Kim and I go on a date.  The date consists of touring two model homes (we like to do that just for kicks) and a drink at the bar as we wait for our Chinese food order to be finished.  I really know how to treat a lady to a good time, don't I?
• Saturday night.  I'm all geared up to watch Wisconsin - Nebraska, which kicks off at 8PM.  I settle onto the floor with a big pillow behind my head.  By 8:30PM, my eyes are starting to close.  At 8:50PM, I decide to give up the fight and climb into bed.  Just too much excitement today, I guess.