My Odd Sock jibberish
Time to do some spring cleaning around the My Odd Sock corporate office.
Time to clean out some random thoughts, ideas & observations.
Put on your rubber gloves because this could get messy!
Master of My Domain
I was informed by an international domain registry that a Chinese investment firm was interested in conducting business using myoddsock.cn as their home on the web.
Seriously? Would you invest ANYTHING with a company name like that?
Maybe “My Odd Sock” in Chinese means “dignified reputation.”
Like the old ad slogan…”When E.F. Hutton talks, people listen.”
“When My Odd Sock talks, people turn their heads and cough!”
(Turns out this was a scam to sell another domain address.)
Hit The Road Jack
Old Brawny Guy
Did you notice Brawny Paper Towels have chosen a new logo/company spokesman?
They ditched the blonde, Pacific Northwest dude with the police-officer moustache…..
New Brawny Guy
…and replaced him with a clean-cut, dark-haired, hunky lumberjack type feller in a red flannel shirt.
That proves it, blondes may have more fun, but brunettes sell more paper product!
Stelara
Have you seen the TV commercial for the prescription drug Stelara?
Scenes from Stelara TV commercial
It features a woman who flies home to attend her high school reunion.
There, she is the belle of the ball!
During the taking of the class-picture, she stands next to a guy and exchanges smiles with him.
The final shot is of her, with a devilish grin, leaving the shindig arm-in-arm with the guy from the picture!
Good thing she is living up to her high school reputation…voted “Most Likely To Get Lucky!”
Stelara is a medication of a skin condition, but from the content of the ad, I thought it was for an STD!
Well, that does it for the spring cleaning. My notebook is now all neat & tidy!
If you would like to do some straightening of your clutter–go ahead and leave a comment. Otherwise, we’ll see you next time on My Odd Sock! (But be sure to take your shoes off–I just did the floors!)
Huddle Up!
This weekend is the crown jewel of American sporting events! The Tiffany competition between the two finest teams who have victoriously survived a long, grueling season of weekly battles.
You know what game I am referring to. I don’t even need to tell you. And if I did say, I could be arrested, be imposed heavy fines, even face imprisonment. All because I would be breaking the National Football League’s copyright infringement policies.
Not familiar with the terms? Here are a few words & phrases you cannot legally say or print:
“Super Bowl”
“Super Sunday”
The Super Bowl Logo
“NFL”, “AFC”, or “NFC”
Any team name (e.g., “Steelers” or “Cowboys”)
Therefore, My Odd Sock will take no chances when it comes to writing about this Sunday’s professional football championship game between the team of hard-working, hardhat-wearing, strong, hairy forearmed, time-clock workers versus the team of cheese-loving, cold-weather, green & yellow wearing, I’m-not-sure-what-they-are-packing team.
Cripes, it’s just easier to say the “Steelers vs the Packers.” (Soon I’ll be some one’s “prison bitch” for the next 3 to 5.)
Sorry to spill the dip, Dip!
Are YOU hosting a big game party?
Easy with the party trays Martha Stewart–you may be in violation yourself!
Did you know it is unlawful to TiVo the big game? It’s true. But why would you anyway—the commercials are often the best part of the broadcast!
How many people have you invited to your shin-dig? It is also against the NFL’s regulations if you are showing the game to “too many” people. Funny, the esteamed league office doesn’t specify the number they feel is “too many.”
Nice console Ward Cleaver!
Finally, did you know you may be breaking the law if you are watching the game on a screen larger than 55 inches?
That’s another strange-but-true factoid.
Is all of this ridiculous? Of course it is. But without all of this, it wouldn’t be the United States’ legal system, right?
Whatever your plans, just enjoy the weekend and let’s look forward to a good game, the halftime show and some funny commercials!
“So, Bubba, you want the top bunk or the bottom bunk?”
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These pages are meant to describe one man’s awkward experiences in coping with multiple sclerosis—and one day last week pretty much summed up what it is like.
Here is the play-by-play of my adventure…
The notice of my important meeting had been stuck beneath a Mickey Mouse refrigerator magnet on the frig door for months. (It is funny how the refrigerator door has become THEE place to secure/display important documents!)
Nervous, after a restless night, I awoke early. Did some morning chores, then showered, and got “gussied up” for my appointment.
I finished with 20 minutes to spare before my designated departure time.
Perfect. (Those of you who DO NOT have MS cannot understand why those of us who DO need such timely, regimented schedules!)
Checking the letter one more time, I realized my meeting was one hour later than I thought. “No prob,” I mumbled–”gives me time to check email on the computer.”
After a few minutes…and a few boring emails, I began to get drowsy (Baclofen kicked in) and decided to lay down on the couch.
Drawing by Norman Rockhead
Of course you know where this is going. I zoned out and woke in a startled panic a mere 30 minutes before my meeting.
Now I was in a rush. Like siblings who never get along, “rushing” and MS are not good partners!
I frantically zipped my coat and was out the door.
New situations/places are not “kosher” to this MSer. I get nervous if I’m not sure of the surroundings and my meeting was one of those times.
Now, running late, heart racing, I stiffened like Frankenstein in a body cast!
Artist flunked matchbook art school
I raced downtown and found the building situated high on a steep hill.
Parking my car across the street, I got my wheelchair from the trunk and began rolling to the corner intersection to cross.
The sidewalks were in bad-shape bumpy, making it extremely difficult to make my way to the accessible curb.
Luckily, having the strength of ten men, I muscle my chair to the corner of the busy city intersection…and wait for the light to change.
Green. Rolling across the street I noticed two things. One, there is no way I can roll my wheelchair up the hill to the building. And, two, the handicap-accessible curb sucks! It wasn’t a sloping ramp—but a mini-curb, so I will have to stand to get my chair over the bump.
I rise…get my bearing…and reach behind for my chair.
Not there.
I turn & look in horror as my wheelchair spins and begins rolling, accelerating down the street like a soap-box derby racer.
Eyewitness account. Artist's rendering.
My frustration peaks and I let out a flurry of expletives!
The wheelchair continues racing down the hill, through a five-lane intersection!
More expletives for good measure.
All of a sudden this car comes to a screeching halt in the intersection, the door opens and out jumps a woman in a business suit. She begins sprinting like FloJo in pursuit of my chair.
Drawn by an out-of-work police sketch artist.
Wearing high-heels, FloJo ran the 30-40 yard distance in a time that made NFL scouts proud!
She returned my errant wheelchair and I graciously thanked her.
But I still had to get up that damn hill!
Shuffling behind the chair, I took three steps before a guy appeared out of nowhere and offered to push me into the building.
Accepting his offer, he pushed while I rode…stiff like a piece of lumber. (Stress had made my body so rigid, I couldn’t bend my legs. I resembled a mannequin from Old Navy—without the goofy smile!)
Anyway, I made it to my meeting with a minute to spare.
Exiting the building, I caught my reflection in a window. My shirt collar was standing-up and the zipper of my coat had split and was gaping open. I looked like a disheveled homeless guy–in a wheelchair no less!
So that was my day. Maybe not a typical day, but when you have MS–what day is typical, right?
Has my story brought out experiences of your own? Please share, as we can all enjoy a chuckle in an uphill world.
Huddle Up!
Football is here!
High school ball is two weeks into the season. College ball kicks off this weekend, with the pro ballers doing the same in a week!
Finally, something in the sports page besides Tiger Woods!
In a tribute to football, here is something I wrote many moons ago. Settle in with a bowl of chips and enjoy!!
]]>The familiar sights & sounds of the fall football season remind me of my own playing days at Wapakoneta Senior High.
We were a small school in the middle of farm country yet, we were big on talent. Undefeated our senior year, our team boasted eight men who would play at the college level. One young man would be an All-American and later play in the NFL.
But THIS isn’t about them, the guys whose skillful play made headlines in Saturday’s newspaper. This is about the team I played for…a pack of fearless warriors who–on a daily basis–challenged the number one monster offense in school history.
We were “Squirrel Squad.”
“Squirrel Squad” was the mostly third-string group of defensive misfits reminiscent of the team from “The Longest Yard.”
Our jerseys had no numbers. Coaches knew us only by our last name scrawled on a piece of tape stuck to our helmets.
We were the blocking sled for the first-team offense, explaining why our backsides were dirtier than our fronts!
We were “Squirrel Squad” and we were proud.
We were “Campbell,” our bespeckled middle linebacker. No sports goggles for this legend. His glasses were held together by large amounts of masking tape. So much tape in fact, he had blind spots the size of a fullback!
We were “Truesdale,” our 115 pound safety. His head could swim inside his helmet. After one bruising collision, he was actually looking out his earhole!
We were “Nieter.” We were “Overturf.” We were “Dodds.” We were “Squirrel Squad” and we had guts. We played our hearts out and then we played some more.
No, this isn’t a tribute to the glory boys of Friday nights, but a courageous call of praise to the men of “Squirrel Squad” who got the job done the rest of the week.
The names may be different in your community…”Goof Troop”…”Splinter Squad”…”Bozo Brigade”…or “Boo Crew,” but every school has a team of individuals who play the game because they like it. Check that—they love it!
Here’s to my fellow combatants of “Squirrel Squad.”
It will be a great season.