Arachnoscreamia!

Behold, the all-important 10th blog entry! Yes, we've reached double digits and if you haven't read them all then you have some serious laughs left in the chuckle bank!...

There has been much debate in recent years over the “National Pastime”. Baseball was the national pastime for a century before yielding to “America’s Game” …American football. American football is not to be confused with “The World’s Game” which we call soccer and everybody else calls football. It’s all very confusing and there’s much to be said on the subject. Baseball happens to have been my first love, but the word “pastime” seems appropriate because true baseball fanatics are hard to find anymore. Football has taken over the national consciousness from high school to college to the NFL. Soccer has taken over the city of Portland in a way I never would have thought possible. But here’s what they’re all missing and I can’t think of a way any of them can close this glaring hole: none of these sports involve yelling at the top of your lungs at spiders.

Let me tell you a little story. My wife’s family has a long tradition of meeting at a park in Oregon City every 4th of July. Nearly every year the extended family (cousins and second cousins and first cousins once removed and great-great-great aunts and ladies named things like “Doris” and “Betty” and men with names like “Dick” because that wasn’t a funny thing to call people back then) gets together for cheap hot dogs and too much chocolate and old stories. Well, when I married into this family I began attending this every year and there was one common theme at each: I know 10 people out of 60 and I’ve seen all 10 recently so I really don’t have any catching up to do. Thank God Andy married Tara so I can have somebody to throw things at, whether that be a baseball or a football or a Frisbee or an insult or a stick. At least I’m not sitting on a bench pretending I’m interested in the grass I’m staring at.

Well, a couple of years ago during this picnic the kids were finally old enough to run around. They weren’t yet old enough to run off and do their own unsupervised thing, but they were old enough to circle the party making quirky noises and occasionally run into something hard/sharp/hot and start crying. That’s not the worst thing in the world because then you have the opportunity to hold them and console them and kill time all the while looking like a compassionate parent who didn’t just send your wild and crazy offspring running around to bash their face into a piping hot barbeque. Well, someone had the idea that it would be a good idea to send the kids off to go play in the tree next to the structure the party is held in. Before you go and judge “someone” who did this you have to understand that this tree is some sort of hemlock tree that isn’t really climbable. It’s not pokey like a spruce so the kids could go into it kind of like a tent and run around it kind of like little Indians (I don’t know why I wrote that but I’m not a racist…except when I’m trying to outpace my opponent).

Anyway…the kids are playing in and around this tree and I decide it will be funny to scare them. So I go up to the tree and I get behind where my son is and I yell at the top of my lungs. The 50 strangers probably looked at me like I was half nuts and looked at my wife pitying her for marrying this idiot but I didn’t see any of that.What I saw was the spider in the web in front of me flinch. By “flinch” I mean it raised a couple of legs in the air and flailed them around. “RAAAAH!”. I tried it again. Flail! “RAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!” FLLLLAAAAIIIILLL!!!!!

I was onto something…I was onto something BIG. So I found another spider and I yelled at it too. Flail! In fact, I found out, the louder I yelled, the more the spider would flailed around. This was great. Pretty soon the kids are yelling at the spiders. From a distance I’m sure we looked like idiots, but like I’ve always said “it’s better to look like an idiot from afar than be far from an idiot.”

So for the rest of the summer my son would find spiders in the backyard and as long as they were in their web we could go right up to them, bark loudly and watch them freak out. We started rating our Spider Yells by the number of legs that made it into the air. A 2-legger is a pretty weak effort. A 4-legger is about what you’d expect a girl to be able to do – sidebar: I’m not being sexist and saying that girls are worse spider yellers than guys…I’m simply saying that calling someone a girl is the same as calling someone a wus. Now when you can get a 6-legger you’re really making progress because now you’re talking about only 2 legs sticking to the web with a full 75% waving in the air. I’ve yet to see the holy grail of spider yelling, the 8-legger, which I would imagine means the spider full on falling from its own web. Maybe I should buy an air horn to see if this can truly be accomplished.

Here is the link to the YouTube video of some Spider Yelling…or if I’m really technical maybe I learned how to embed it after writing this. Please forward this blog and/or the video links to Spider Yelling to everyone you know. People will love you just as you now love me.

Spider Yelling 1


Spider Yelling 2: Extreme Spider Yelling!


My charge to you is to go out while there are still a few straggling spiders in the yard. Find one in a web and scare the hell out of it. Yell at the top of your lungs. Your neighbors will think you’ve lost your mind, but the joke’s on them because you will know you are enjoying the emerging movement of people who enjoy screaming not because of, but AT arachnids. You’re a pioneer in the sport of Spider Yelling. Yell loudly and yell proudly.

It's like ten thousand spoons...

A few years ago I misused the word "ironic" and instead of arguing the point I decided to learn from it. If you're still reliving your glory days of 1994 then you probably remember Reality Bites and the back and forth about defining "irony". Dictionary.com says: 1) the use of words to convey a meaning that is the opposite of its literal meaning 2) Literature: a technique of indicating, as through a character or plot development, an intention or attitude opposite to that which is actually or ostensibly stated and 5) an outcome or event contrary to what was, or might have been, expected.

You see, irony is not coincidence. It's also not simply something you'd consider a bummer. With that said I would like to take you through something I put together long ago...a breakdown of Alanis Morissette's lyrics for "Ironic". Then, to conclude, you can read my song set to the same tune.

"Ironic" by Alanis Morissette
An old man turned ninety-eight
He won the lottery and died the next day – Bummer is not equal to irony.
It's a black fly in your Chardonnay – It’s not a black fly in your chardonnay...though the contrast of the white wine with the black fly could be used in the setting of literature to parallel an ironic concept.
It's a death row pardon two minutes too late – This is more like a big "whoopsie!!!!!".
And isn't it ironic... don't you think – No it’s not ironic…I don’t think.

It's like rain on your wedding day – In the context of literature this could be used in an ironic sense.
It's a free ride when you've already paid – This has no irony whatsoever.
It's the good advice that you just didn't take ¬– This is just called poor foresight and/or judgment.
Who would've thought... it figures – Huh?

Mr. Play It Safe was afraid to fly
He packed his suitcase and kissed his kids goodbye
He waited his whole damn life to take that flight
And as the plane crashed down he thought
"Well isn't this nice..."
And isn't it ironic... don't you think – This is the exact opposite of irony. I mean the dude thought he would die in a plane and then he did.

It's like rain on your wedding day
It's a free ride when you've already paid
It's the good advice that you just didn't take
Who would've thought... it figures

Well life has a funny way of sneaking up on you – Kind of like those squirrels on the golf course when they steal your snacks.
When you think everything's okay and everything's going right
And life has a funny way of helping you out when
You think everything's gone wrong and everything blows up
In your face – There’s nothing ironic about the Unabomber.

A traffic jam when you're already late – This is like a compounded bummer.
A no-smoking sign on your cigarette break – This actually is kind of ironic.
It's like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife – Yes…yes, “irony” is “ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife.”
It's meeting the man of my dreams
And then meeting his beautiful wife – This is more a timing issue. She simply got there first.
And isn't it ironic...don't you think – No.
A little too ironic...and, yeah, I really do think... – Trust me, it’s not.


"Really Ironic" by Keith

A violent man with fire in his eyes
Started a world war which won him the Nobel Peace Prize
It’s a dirty blotch on your bar of soap
It’s a contraceptive being worn by the Pope
Yes it is ironic…don’t you think?

It’s like pain when someone hugs you too hard
It’s a skinny girl who only eats lard
Or when it feels good when you get kicked in the nards
And who would’ve thought it figures?

Mr. Fireman saved peoples’ lives
He was a hero every day of his life
He took his kids camping for just one night
When the marshmallow set his hair on fire he thought
“At least it’ll burn up the lice”
And isn’t it ironic…don’t you think?

It’s like pain when someone hugs you too hard
It’s a skinny girl who only eats lard
Or when it feels good when you get kicked in the nards
And who would’ve thought it figures?

Comedic contrast has a funny way of sneaking up on you
When you think everything’s just as it should be
And life has a funny way of pointing it out when
Someone poops their pants in a fancy dress

A bad hair day when you’ve been bald for years
An excellent joke that brings you to tears
It’s like getting sloppy butt drunk on A&W root beers
It’s like meeting the woman of your dreams
And then finding out she has male genitals
And isn’t it ironic? Don’t you think?
A little too ironic? Well, it makes you think.