Little Red Light

Had a fun experience the other night. I was asked by the local hospital system to appear in a commercial they recorded to advertise their cancer program. The spot featured another doc and myself reading a short script about the program while standing in front of some "high-tech equipment" (actually a cardiac catheterization table, which has nothing to do with the cancer program but looked nice and scientific on camera).

We worked off of a teleprompter, which was pretty neat, and got to see the finished product on the monitor when we were done. There was really no director per se, so no one could help me explore what my character's motivation was. I was reading a script about cancer, which I felt needed to be played with a serious undertone, yet I wanted to warm up the cold surroundings of the sterile-looking cath lab with an expression that said "I care. Really, I do." Unfortunately, the internal conflict about my direction, coupled with my steadfast efforts to keep from slouching, led to an on-camera effort the likes of which television hasn't seen since Cindy Brady was on a quiz show.

Rumor has it that I may be receiving an electronic copy of said commercial; if so, I'll do my best to post it here. It'll scare the cancer right out of you.

New Look!

Still haven't gone that extra yard and learned to write the code necessary to truly customize this blog. But I have found a new template that I like, and I think you'll agree makes the posts much easier to read.

You'll also notice I returned the Twitter updates to the sidebar, but to a different Twitter account- the @finkbowl one I created for the countdown. Now even those not among the Twitterati can embrace the excitement of FinkBowl advent!

And, I deleted the "finkipedia-endorsed blogs" list. I've still got nuthin' but love for all y'all, but most of them, like my own "finkathon" blog, weren't active anymore. (Life (and blogging) still goes on at The Funny Farm, so if you'd still like to stop there and visit sometimes, be sure to bookmark it.)

Thanks for reading- hope your eyes don't suffer as much with the new layout as with the old. Would love to hear (or read) what you think.

FinkBowl ftw!

In an effort to save trees (not to mention a few shekels in postage), we opted to go the e-Vite route for the annual FinkBowl invitations. After creating them I figured, why stop there?

So this year, it's FinkBowl all over the interwebs- on Twitter @finkbowl, on its own Facebook page, and of course here at the iHome of all things fink. I gave brief thought to giving FinkBowl its own blog, but since I have a hard enough time keeping this one going, I thought it would be doomed from the start.

Follow along somewhere online as we get ready for the best FinkBowl ever! (Unless it rains, and 25 kids are hoarded into my basement. That of course would be the ultimate fail.)

Leftover Bowl

Some things I've learned (or beliefs that were re-affirmed) by watching too many bowl games over the past 3 weeks:

• While a college football playoff would be nice, the bowl system should remain. No matter whether it was the official national championship game or just the Konica Minolta Gator Bowl, most of these kids seemed to embrace each game as their own championship.
• Those biceps arm bands make most of the guys wearing them look like they're in some sort of Jimmy "Superfly" Snuka fanclub
• Marching bands both look and sound better from a blimp
• Penalties for "excessive celebration" are ridiculous. 'Bama was penalized 15 yards last night basically because the lineman who ran back the turnover for a TD at the end of the first half tossed the ball after he crossed the goal line. Taunting, I can see penalizing. Celebrating, now that's just having fun. If the other team's feelings are hurt- tough. Tell them to score more points.
• The Rose Bowl parade is amazing to watch, but wouldn't the countless thousands of hours that people put into gluing crushed walnut shells and pansy petals onto a 65-foot wingspan eagle be better used in some kind of national service?
• Since neither Army or Navy are likely to contend for the national title anymore, the Army-Navy game should be moved to Bowl Week
• College teams run way more trick plays, fakes, and onsides kicks than the pros, which makes the games fun to watch even if the quality of football is less
• Bowl games, except maybe the national championship game, should all be the week leading up to and including New Years Day.
  

Now starts the real fun though- NFL playoffs, and then the biggest bowl of them all- Finkbowl!

Dream weaver

Had a classic dream the other night. For some reason, it was determined that I had to repeat the fourth grade, despite the fact that I was now an adult. I was reluctant to do so, so I showed up late the first day. The other kids in my school had already assembled outside and were on their way into the building when I reached the school. Knowing I was late, I started run-walking through the halls, but was nabbed by Sister Laverne (the principal of the boys' school), who said "John, I know you're late, but that's no reason to run in the halls.

Found my classroom and class, who were already all seated at their desks. The teacher (happened to be Owen's teacher this year) said something like, "I know you're supposed to be with us, but if you're OK with not being here, I don't think you need to be here". I gladly left, wandered through the halls, passing by a room set up for a retirement luncheon for "Sister Joseph James" (no idea who that's supposed to be, but I remember thinking in my dream that it's always been weird to me that some nuns take male names when they take their vows). I met Sister Laverne in the lobby again on my way out, and told her I was leaving. She was OK with it, but pointed to a 10 year old now standing next to me and said "Since you're leaving, can you please take Anthony home too? He lives around the corner from you". So I did.

That's about all I remember. I relayed this story to Erin when we woke up, thinking that it was one of the more classic dreams I've ever had. She replied, "I had a dream las night that I got hit in the neck with a B-2 bomber". Always has to do me one better.