TorsoPants

Most Overrated Meal of the Day

2008-09-26T09:14:00.000-07:00

As TorsoPants often are, I may be alone on this, but I'm going to go ahead and put it out there. Breakfast is completely unnecessary and should be done away with. If you take some time to consider the function of food, rather than how it tastes, I'm sure you'll agree with me. The job of food is to recharge the body once you've expended energy. Well when it's time to eat breakfast, what have you just been doing for several hours? Yeah - sleeping.

I get having a cup of coffee and maybe a donut or fruit bar to get you going and shake you out of your blahs, but to stuff your gullet full of hash browns, pancakes, and everything else that comes in the breakfast bucket after you've just done literally nothing for one third of the day is just nutrient overkill.

"But what about getting all the energy you'll need for the upcoming work day?" you ask. You mean that busy work day where you take calls all day or enter a bunch of information into a computer? That's the problem with breakfast. It's a remnant of the time of lumberjacks and milk maids. They needed enough flapjacks and sausage links to choke a horse so they could churn butter or shovel coal all day, but we sure as heck don't need it to give us the strength to put people on hold or touch the "Large fries" button on our touchscreen.

Granted, as a pair of TorsoPants I do pretty much nothing all day, but I believe 75-90% of the population doesn't need all the calories provided by IHOP's Breakfast Bomb, or whatever the hell it is. Breakfast is one of those social standards whose time should have come to an end long ago, but we often refuse to let go. Well, it's time. Put down that fork and step away from the omelette. Long live lunch - the new breakfast.

Offline

2008-08-21T10:55:00.001-07:00

Last weekend I decided to do without all modern media devices. No computer, no TV, no cell phone, nothing of the sort. Just some TorsoPants alone with my thoughts. I didn't do anything as radical as going camping; I do love my indoor plumbing and temperature control, but I thought it'd be interesting to see how I'd handle life without all my gadgets. And I gotta say - not that great.

I'm sure I'm not telling you anything you don't already know, but all those things are pretty darn neat. You know why? Because they change. At any given moment my computer, TV or cell phone may have something on it that wasn't there just a moment ago. One second - there's Spongebob Squarepants. The next second - there's a guy shouting about the stock market. These things may have killed our collective attention span, but more importantly, they keep us interested.

Having said that, there is value in simplicity. It's true what all the naturalist types say about the outdoors. It is calming and serene. But you can only take so much calm and serenity before you want something to happen. The trail you hike or pond you fish will be the same next week as it is at this very moment. I suppose that's simultaneously its positive and its negative. It's steady, but it's steadiness is also kind of boring.

But one good thing did come of this little experiment. I discovered that I actually kind of love newspapers. You can call them a pointless relic and you'd be right, but there's something very satisfying about making your way through each article and working your way toward the back of the paper. It feels like you're accomplishing something. I know the internet is constantly feeding us two-sentence news stories that tell us everything we need to know, but I suggest you give the paper a try.

Also, I found out I love yo-yos.

Boo-ray for Non-Hollywood

2008-07-25T14:03:00.000-07:00

The other day I was in a bit of an artsy mood, as TorsoPants sometimes are, so I decided to watch some independent and foreign films. And I have to say, as much crap as Hollywood gets for lack of quality, they sure have it all over everyone else when it comes to making movies.
I'm not saying Hollywood doesn't suck, I'm just saying that once you consider the alternative, it starts to look a heck of a lot better. People who defend indies as being superior to mainstream movies are quick to point out the handful of successes. But when you look at the percentages, you quickly realize Hollywood is the clear winner.

Yeah, Reservoir Dogs was an indie. But for every Reservoir Dogs there are roughly 100 movies made up of little more than 90 minutes of black and white shots of an Indonesian boy crying in a field right before the movie ends with a 10 minute shot of a dead goat.

It seems "indie" is just another word for "not entertaining." And I get it, smart people - Movies aren't always about being entertained. But as much as the mainstream panders to the public's funny bone and bloodlust, the "under the radar" filmmakers pander to our emotions and intellect.

And foreign films are no better. For every cool martial arts epic there are a few dozen movies composed of nothing but two German people speaking to each other in a darkened bedroom while facing opposite walls. "Oh, I get it. It's helping me grow as a person because I'm bored out of my mind."

So, yeah, Hollywood made Norbit and everything starring Jessica Alba, but they also made the Jason Bourne movies and No Country for Old Men. It's all too easy for you unknown filmmakers to say "Hollywood sucks" so you can justify the fact that no one wants to make your crappy movie, but you'll become a good director when you admit that you're the one who sucks.

Sunday Schooled

2008-06-25T09:53:00.000-07:00

I went to church the other day for the first time in over a decade. I didn't have a "falling out" with religion or anything. It's just one of those things I never had much passion for so I stopped attending regularly and soon after stopped attending altogether.

I'm not an atheist or even an agnostic, I definitely believe in some kind of God, I just think it's utterly pointless for humans (or TorsoPants) to define what that God may be. "So why did you go back?" you ask. The answer is simply sheer boredom.

I had some early morning plans last Sunday that fell apart at the last second. Since I was already up and about, I figured 'Why not?' I put on my Sunday best (which for me just consists of ironing myself) and headed out the door.

It was just like I remembered it. Which is something I like about church. I know as open-minded beings we're supposed to always embrace change, but even as I disagree with religion, I appreciate that it resists change in a constantly changing world. I also appreciate that the church has always embraced TorsoPants, which is more than I can say for a lot of other organizations out there (I'm looking at you Boy Scouts).

Anyway, overall it was a pleasant experience. The general public gets a bad impression of the church because of...you know, but you have to remember that's just a small fraction of the church and most people who attend are just like the rest of us, and just need something bigger to believe in.

I still don't understand the point of tithing (10% of my check to hear something I can read at home for free?), and I won't be attending regularly anytime soon, but I must say, it feels good to be a part of something bigger than you, if only for a moment. Having said that, I'm really looking forward to sleeping in this Sunday.

Reading is FUNdamental (Every Five Years)

2008-06-13T08:58:00.000-07:00

Last week I did something I hadn't done since shortly after I graduated college - I read a book. I know, I know - "Sound the alarm! I read a book!" It may not be a big deal to anyone else (in fact, I'm sure it's not), but it was a task I set out to do and I was kind of proud I had done it.

I don't say this as an ignorant hayseed. I keep up on news and politics, I love classic movies and I'm even somewhat of an art buff. Reading has just never appealed to me, for reasons I can't really give you. I just never get swept up in reading the way I do by something like Citizen Kane or a really powerful song.

Having said that, I kind of went the easy route and read a classic - Moby Dick. I've seen two film versions of this story (the well-regarded version starring Gregory Peck and a made-for-TV version starring Patrick Stewart, which was pretty solid in its own right), but had never read the book.

I went into it with an open mind and I'm pleased to say I found it very compelling. Even knowing how the story goes, I couldn't tear my eyes away as I witnessed Ahab descend further and further into obsession and madness. As a pair of TorsoPants, I related to these themes in a big way.

Who knows, maybe I'll become a bookworm yet. My local librarian won't be on a first name basis with me any time soon (I'll probably always be "that pair of TorsoPants" to her), but it appears that I may have opened up a whole new way to waste my time. Just kidding! It just goes to show you, try new things and you may be surprised what you learn about yourself. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll finally see what all this "1984" hype is about.

The Ghost of Birthday Present

2008-05-30T15:20:00.000-07:00

My girlfriend's birthday is coming up and I'm facing the same problem we all face in this situation: What should I get for her? However, mine is a somewhat unusual situation. I'm not saying it's a wholly unique problem, but it certainly isn't the norm.

For Jenna (my girlfriend), it isn't a question of "What do you get for the person who has everything?" It's a question of "What do you get for the person who doesn't WANT anything?" I wouldn't go so far as to call her a minimalist, she certainly has more than a bed and some clothes, but she doesn't care much for the burdens that come along with owning things. And while I can appreciate that, it doesn't make shopping for her very easy.

She's no Quaker, but she doesn't care much for electronics (She doesn't even own a TV and she only uses her computer once a month to pay bills and check email - Thank goodness she at least uses it often enough to visit TorsoPants, or I'd still be single). She doesn't care for jewelry (And I'm not just saying that to avoid buying an expensive gift, I actually bought her a necklace for Valentines and she forced me to return it).

As if that doesn't make things impossible enough, she says she "has enough clothes," doesn't care for perfume or accessories, and absolutely can't stand the cookie cutter gifts from Bed Bath & Beyond (The "Basket O' Smells" as she puts it).

So I guess this isn't so much a blog for the sake of informing or entertaining as it is a simple request: Keeping all of the above information in mind, what are some interesting gift ideas I may have overlooked? Any advice is welcome. Thanks. (And you can't suggest I just give her all my love. That qualifies as giving her a pair of TorsoPants. Ha ha.)

Car, You Gonna Be My Girl

2008-04-17T13:46:00.000-07:00

Let me begin by saying I am not at all materialistic. I have a decent house, and I like to maintain it, but my furniture and other assorted belongings are hardly what you'd call "top of the line." In fact, I've had the same kitchen appliances and bath towels since college. And I don't hang on to them for the sake of nostalgia. I'm simply one cheap SOB.

Having said that, I love my car. I care for and pamper my car the way a superstitious baseball player cares for his lucky glove. The thing is, my car isn't exactly what you would call "classic" or "vintage." It is a '97 Taurus. I can't tell you why I love it. It is the first car I ever owned, but as I suggested earlier, I am not at all nostalgic.

I also haven't had any dramatic life moments that were even remotely related to my car. No whoopee in the back seat, no deep connection with my father, no nothing. Regardless, I wash and wax it every two weeks without fail. I get a complete tune-up every 6 months. I rotate and balance the tires religiously. And I never, without exception, allow food in my car. And it goes without saying that you can't smoke in it.

I even go so far as to park at the far end of the parking lot so no one will park next to me; thus avoiding any potential dings. All this may lead you to believe I use my car quite a bit. Hardly. I drive to the market every Wednesday. Beyond that, I use it to give a lift to a friend or relative should the occasion arise. That's all. I'd say I put about 50 miles on it in any given month.

Call me crazy, and maybe I am, but I love my car. I know it's common. I know it's boring. But maybe that's exactly what makes my love for it special. In a way, it's unconditional love. And that is the greatest love of all.

Friendly Neighborhood? Where's Spider Man?

2008-03-19T09:17:00.000-07:00

I suppose if I had any guts I'd be confronting my neighbors instead of writing about them in my blog, but here we are. Not that it's like living next to the Addam's Family or anything, but they're far from the greatest neighbors I've ever had.

Things started off great. They moved in 6 months ago and it couldn't have been more perfect. No loud music, no yelping dog, no nothing. In fact, the man of the house (Steve Lintner) even helped me put up my gutters. Looking back on it now, it's apparent that it was all an act.

It started about 3 weeks ago. I mentioned that there was initially no yelping dog. Well my friend, that has changed in the most thunderous fashion possible. Not one, not two, but three dogs, all with different-pitched barks, and they all seemingly believe the Lintners lawn gnomes are ever-present prowlers.

Then there's the mess. Now, I'm not the cleanest individual on the planet, but I like to keep things relatively tidy. That's why it infuriating to have such sloppy neighbors. It'd be bad enough if it stayed confined to their yard, but when the byproduct of last night's party spills out of their all-too-tiny trashcan and into my yard, that's when we have a problem.

I don't want to be one of those people, but if this keeps up I'll have to make the call. I'm sure you all know what I'm talking about. Then again, maybe a simple request would do the job, if only temporarily. I'm just not good with confrontation. I'll figure something out. In the meantime, I don't suppose anyone wants to buy a house. Ha ha. Bye for now.

We are family!

2008-03-18T04:16:00.000-07:00

I just got back from another family reunion. I suppose we have them more often than most. We TorsoPants are extremely close. Most people may get together every five or even ten years, but we make sure to do it every single year. Even as my family has ballooned to an almost unmanageable number, we still make a point of getting together each and every year.

The location and date often change to accommodate everyone, but with few exceptions we get the whole gang together year in and year out. This year we all met up in Tempe. My nephews and nieces are particularly fond of me. My nephew Cody insisted that we do the three-legged race together. That created problems I'm not prepared to discuss at this time.

After the race ended (we came in second, by the way) it was time for the TP awards. That's where we hand out cheesy trophies to any family members who had some sort of dubious achievement in the past year. Once again, I received the oldest TorsoPants without any kids award. Hopefully that'll change next year, if Samantha says yes (wink).

As we do at every reunion, we wrapped up the day with polite conversation and Grandma Nancy's delicious barbecue dishes. God rest her soul.

All in all, it was a tremendous success. Other than a rather rambunctious flock of geese that none of us could have predicted, it was the perfect day. I'm already counting the days until the next one.

Rude People at the Movies

2008-02-21T11:02:00.000-08:00

Anyone who knows me knows that I am a movie fanatic. There's nothing I love more than going to the nearest multiplex to check out a good flick. And it's not just the movies, it's the whole experience. The popcorn, the coming attractions, the anticipation...I just live for it.

That said, there is one aspect of the movie-going experience I simply cannot stand - People. If not for people, watching a film on opening weekend would be transcendent. I'm just a simple pair of TorsoPants who loves cinema. So when I make my way to my seat and hear a couple of yahoos mutter under their breath something to the effect of "Look at that T-shirt with the bag of popcorn. I am totally freaking out!", I can't help but be taken out of the moment.

For once and for all - I AM NOT A T-SHIRT. Do I go around calling you people "really tall hairless squirrels" or "air-breathing dolphins with legs"? No, I don't. Despite the fact that all you carbon-based beings look alike to me, I respect your feelings and try not to insult you by making false presumptions. I just wish you would do the same for me.

Look...I don't have a problem with T-shirts. Hell, some of my best friends are T-shirts. I just wish others would recognize that that's not who I am. How many T-shirts do you know who recently placed seventh in a Scrabble tournament? How many T-shirts do you know who love scuba-diving and origami?

I don't want to sound like a jerk here. When I first started hearing the "T-shirt" comments I didn't mind. But after a couple years it gets old. It's similar to how Bill Paxton probably gets called Bill Pullman all the time. At first it was cute, then it was annoying, and now it's just infuriating.

Well, that does it for this entry. I hope I've shed some light on what is for me a sensitive subject. In the future, I hope we'll all be a little more considerate of others. Be they human, T-shirt, panda, or TorsoPants. Mainly TorsoPants.

Until next time,

Chores! Chores! Bores! Chores!

2008-02-19T09:01:00.000-08:00

This past weekend I tried to get around to finally fixing all those little household problems that pile up during the course of the year. Clean out the gutters, install a new showerhead, replace a broken doorknob, and so on and so forth. The problem, of course, is that I am no handyman.

For me, something as simple as repairing the handle on my toilet can turn into a catastrophe. Before you know it, what should've been a five minute task turns into a $1,000 bill from the plumber.

Despite that, I decided to soldier on and tackle my chores. First up I installed my new showerhead (or at least tried to). Simple enough. But if you don't think I screwed it up you don't know me very well. I began by unscrewing the old showerhead. When it finally popped off, I dropped it, putting a chip in my flawless porcelain tub and cracking the old showerhead. No big deal, just some cosmetic damage to my tub and I ruined the showerhead I was throwing out anyway.

That's when the trouble began. Determined to finish what I started, I removed my new showerhead from its box. Completing my mission was as simple as twisting my hand. Not for this guy. Wanting to avoid any leaks, I made sure to screw it on very snugly. Lo and behold, I not only stripped the pipe, I also broke off the plastic face of the head and utterly ruined it.

I would've tried to get by with my old showerhead, but I had ruined it upon dropping it. So now I'm stuck showering under an open pipe until the plumber shows up next week. And, needless to say, my other chores remain undone.

DIY clearly applies to anyone but me. Eventually I'll get back on that horse and screw up something else. Until then, my local repair shop will be getting a lot of business.

Until next time,

I hate Mondays!

2008-02-18T10:56:00.000-08:00

Hello friends. It's your good friend TP here, wishing you good tidings from TorsoLand. It's been a crazy week for me. I don't really know where to begin. I guess it all started on what you people would call "Monday." (Note: I also call it Monday.)

The day started out like any other. I was shouting at my typical breakfast of hash browns and Barbie heads when it happened. I heard a knock at the door, and since it was almost 9 a.m. I assumed it was the guy I pay to slap me with a mousepad every morning. But I was wrong.

I open the door to my soy-based igloo and standing before me is America's Secretary of Arm-wrestling. That's right, none other than Jonathan Rebecca O'Takamura III. I was in such awe of him and his wheeled shoes (I think they're called spinner-scoots) that I could hardly say a word. Then he simply looked me in the eye (And I don't even have eyes. He's that good.) and said "You're coming with me, Skippy."

Then we climbed on his rhinoceros, which had the head of a grizzly bear and the body of a grizzly cow. Our adventure was underway.

We discussed Illinois tax codes for the next four days before finally returning home. In retrospect, I guess early Monday was the only interesting part of the week. Oh well. See ya next blog.