Hitler Stole My Bike

This is taken from my old site, HalfCourtHero.com. Since I haven’t been able to write as much as I’d like to lately, I thought I’d bring back this blast from the past.

This is from October 12, 2004:

Yesterday my brother IM'd me something that he had just received from a coach of his. I have read it or had it read to me a total of five times now and have been unable to keep myself from laughing out loud each time. The coach is a teacher and the following is an actual assignment turned in by one of his students and his reply to the student:

YO YO YO YOU TRIPIN
by: Student

THIS ONE DAY I WAS CHILLIN AT THE PARK AND THEN I GOT BLOWN UP WHITH A WARHEAD. I WAS LIKE WHUT. IT WAS FROM GERMANY. AHHH I SAID AS I LAID ON THE GROUND THAT'S ALL I COULD SAY I WAS HURT. WHEN YOU HAVE A WARHEAD FALLOUT OF THE SKY ON YOU THEN TALK TO ME. WELL WHEN I REGAINED MY COUNSNIES I LOOK INSIDE THE MISSLE AND SURE A NUFF ADOLF HITLERS BODY WAS INSIDE. IT WAS CRAZY. THEN I ROLLED IT HOME. THERE WE STUDIED IT TO LEARN MORE. THEN HITLER BROKE OUT AND STOLE MY BIKE. I BEAT HIM DOWN GOT MY BIKE BACK AND BURIED THE MISSLE.

My [the teacher’s] response:
This was meant to be a TRUE personal narrative. I don't deny that you believe this really happened, but I have trouble finding truth in it. Example: even if Hitler really was in the warhead that blew you up, and even if he really did steal your bike, I have trouble believing that you actually beat him down to get it back. I think he could take you!

Medial epicondylitis

It's a fancy way of saying tennis elbow, and I have it.

It has something to do with the repetitive stress on my tendons from the ergonomic set up at work. All I know is that it has made writing an uncomfortable and, accordingly, an undesirable task.

So, I've done significantly less writing-for-fun lately, focusing on just doing the writing I have to do at work.

It sucks. I hate not loving writing if that makes sense. But it's pretty tough when there's a constant ache associated with the task.

I saw the doctor last week, and am doing my best to follow doctor's orders to help me get better. That means wearing a wrist brace and elbow brace at work, making me resemble the typing Terminator. Much less intimidating than Arnold, I know. I'm also doing daily stretching exercises and taking ibuprofen three times a day.

Is any of it helping? I have no idea. Hopefully. I can't imagine living and not writing on a regular basis. But I also can't imagine dealing with this pain every time I sit at a computer to type. After all, I'm only 24. Let's hope I can correct this problem and get back to normal.

Until then, I'm sure updates here will be fewer and further between. Not that I was posting all that regularly to begin with.

25 Random Things About Me

The most recent craze on Facebook is the note titled “25 Random Things About Me.” As someone who already writes about himself on a semi-regular basis, I obliged and recently posted my own note of 25 random things. For those of you who read the blog but don’t have Facebook, here’s what I wrote:

1. My writing has had a presence on the Web since 2004. Currently, I sporadically operate two blogs. One is about sports (MattHubert.com) and the other is about my life since moving into an apartment (aptwriting.blogspot.com). I also continue to pay the hosting for my old site (HalfCourtHero.com). I guess I’m just nostalgic that way.

2. The fact that the sports blog is the one with my name in the URL should tell you a lot about me. If you get me going about the Lakers, Raiders or Wolverines, I can go on for days.

3. I didn’t start drinking until I was 22. I still don’t drink beer because I just don’t like the taste. And I’ve already heard every comment you’re about to make about me drinking girly drinks, so don’t even bother. If you do, it seriously won’t bother me.

4. I spent three years in high school running a fantasy wrestling league online called the Chat Room Wrestling League (CRWL). Yes, this probably influenced #3 and also strongly contributed to the fact that I didn’t have a girlfriend (or really care that girls existed) until I was 18.

5. I don’t regret #4, even if it meant I missed out on many typical high school experiences. The CRWL was a lot of fun for me, and I’m even Facebook friends with some of the old members. It was also one of the first outlets for my creative writing. To this day, the longest thing I ever wrote was a 16,800-word interview with my wrestler, “3-D” Devious Devon Dawson. It holds up surprisingly well for something I wrote when I was 15.

6. The scariest nightmare I ever had featured a crazed Captain Kangaroo who had locked me in my bedroom, which was doubly scary because neither of the doors in my room had locks on them.

7. Following in my dad’s footsteps, I have a massive music collection. To this day, I still prefer to buy CDs over mp3s. There’s something about having that physical copy. My first music purchase? A cassette tape of Ace of Base’s “The Sign.”

8. I wish I had more musical ability and truly admire those who do. I own an electric and acoustic guitar that have both been gathering dust for years. I took six months of lessons way back in eighth grade, but playing never came easy for me, frustration kicked in, and I just ran out of patience.

9. One of my goals in life is to dunk a basketball. I write that in present tense, but sadly this goal will almost certainly never be accomplished. I was oh-so-close in high school but never quite able to throw one down.

10. My mom always tells me I should write a book. She’s right, I should. And hopefully someday I will.

11. I’ve eaten Town House crackers for lunch/snack (or both) almost every day since first grade. That’s a slight exaggeration but not much of one. I’ve probably eaten 1,000 boxes in my lifetime. You might say I have OCD tendencies, but I don’t think routine and order are bad in principle.

12. There are exceptions, but in general I’d take the romantic comedy over the action movie. Of course, my all-time favorite movie is a documentary (Hoop Dreams).

13. I cannot snap my fingers, curl my tongue or whistle.

14. When I was in grade school, I had this thing called a Herbst appliance put in my mouth in an attempt to fix my overbite. Look it up. Anyway, it was a nuisance and I played with it constantly with my tongue to the point that I got the bars stuck during a school Mass. I had to leave church in a panic unable to close my mouth, my jaw stuck open thanks to this unsightly orthodontic device.

15. During my freshman year at Prep, the school was gathered in the cathedral for confession. As I was waiting patiently in line, I started to feel ill, and before I could make a move to spare myself the shame, it hit me. I threw up in the pew and was immediately the focus of everyone’s attention. A substitute teacher helped me make the lonely, embarrassing walk through the cathedral into the school building, but not before some upperclassmen managed to comment, “Wow, you must have had some really bad sins, man!”

16. Despite 14 & 15, I still make it a point to get to church every week. Several experiences in my life bring me back when my faith wavers, particularly two very meaningful mission trips to Appalachian Kentucky.

17. I’ve never been sledding or skiing. I hibernate in the winter and spend 3-5 months every year questioning why I still live in Erie. (Answer: I love my family…plus the other 7-9 months of non-snow-and-ice-dominated weather are wonderful here.)

18. I’ve been tagged by at least three people and have read more than a dozen of these “25 random things about me” notes in addition to the ones I was tagged in. Personally, I find them fascinating. I hope you find mine at least moderately entertaining and enjoyable to read.

19. Listening to Counting Crows’ epic 15-minute performance of “Round Here” from October 31, 1999, is like an out-of-body experience for me. I can’t help but get all philosophical when listening to it.

20. I’m almost 25, but as recently as last year I was presumed to be as young as 17. I suppose my choice to start each day with a bowl of Reese’s Puffs, Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Frosted Cheerios or Lucky Charms isn’t helping my case. But I’m pretty OK with the idea of never fully crossing over into the adult world.

21. My dad is a ceramic artist. True story: before I was born, my dad wanted to name me Clayton Arthur. That’s right, Clay Art Hubert. Thankfully Mom won that battle.

22. I once played video games sitting in the same position for so long that I was unable to walk. I don’t know if it was psychosomatic or if I really managed to become temporary paralyzed from the waist down, but my dad literally carried me in and out of the doctor’s office. It’s one of the strangest memories I have, and I don’t remember exactly how/when I walked again, but I’m pretty sure it only lasted a few hours. It was hard to explain then and even harder to comprehend now.

23. I’ve never been good at asking questions. A number of factors contribute and compound this problem. First of all, I’m shy by nature. Secondly, I don’t like to offend, upset or make others feel uncomfortable. Thirdly, I often have a false sense of surety that I can find out what I want to know or someone will tell me without asking.

24. I’m always curious to know what other people think of me. I wonder things like, on an average day, how many people have a thought about me cross their mind? Because of 23, I’m usually left wondering.

25. I’m terrible at keeping in touch with people, but great at Facebook stalking. It’s like the 21st-century, hi-tech version of people watching, and I probably enjoy it a bit too much. I’m sure it would be fun to actually hang out with many of you, but I guess this is the next best thing.

Things I Miss: Warmth

The past couple of days brought something I hadn’t seen in weeks: sunlight. Unfortunately, the sun forgot that it’s also in charge of warming the planet.

This month has been brutally cold, including a few days with wind chills bringing the temperature below zero. My favorite weather term is “feels like.” You know, when it tells you the temperature is 23 degrees Fahrenheit (feels like 7). I don’t know about you, but I don’t really care about the first number. If it feels like 7, my body’s going to have to deal with 7 degrees.

The cold has taken its toll on my apartment heating bill, too. I have electric heat and I can’t complain too much about the monthly bill, but it has increased every month since I’ve moved in thanks to the increasingly cold temperatures. I keep the thermostat set at a less-than-ideal 65 degrees when I’m home and drop it down to 60 when I go to bed or leave the apartment.

Is it bearable? Yes. Comfortbale? Not really. It’s fine when I come back from the gym, but otherwise it tends to force me to wear more layers of clothes than I would like indoors. Oh, and don’t even get me started about the poor circulation in my feet and my never-ending complaints of having cold feet.

As Ben Folds once sang, “Hey Summer, where ya been?”

I recently saw Facebook pics of my cousin Meaghan and her daughter walking the California beaches on New Year's Day. I'm a little jealous. That's obviously not happening at Presque Isle any time soon, and summer seems like an eternity away. At this point, I'd settle for 50 degrees (would feel like 80).

Cooking and Cleaning…or At Least I'm Trying

I’ve done surprisingly well coming up with meals since moving into my apartment. Considering my next-to-nothing cooking experience, I was a little worried that I’d succumb to a pizza and fast-food diet. Thankfully, that’s not been the case.

I’m no gourmet chef, but I’m capable enough to follow some basic instructions. A steak on the George Foreman grill, a delicious BBQ meatloaf. And I do my best to include a frozen vegetable and fruit serving with most dinners.

I even have multiple cookbooks. OK, so I don’t use them ALL the time, but they are quite helpful to have.

I really am doing all right, but I still have some issues. The other day, I decided to try a baked potato. Seemed simple enough. I followed the instructions to scrub it, poke holes in it. Then, I put some cooking oil and salt on it, wrapped it in aluminum foil and put it in the oven. For an hour. It seemed like a long time (and Jessie thought it was comical that I didn’t just put it in the microwave), but I was just following the recipe!

As it turned out, the baked potato was delicious. The problem is that the baking tray, which I could swear was a “nonstick” tray has the remnants of the cooking oil stuck on it, baked and hardened. And the remnants don’t seem to want to go anywhere.

I tried letting the tray soak in the sink full of dish soap and water—that’s worked on pots and pans before—but it had no effect. The tray looks ugly as ever and the mess doesn’t seem to be fixable.

Does anyone have a tried and true solution to get my tray shimmering clean again? Mom? Martha Stewart? Someone must know. Let me know…

Poor Phone, Great Service

As a New Year’s present to myself, I broke down and decided to get a new phone. I think I got my first phone the summer after my senior year of high school, approximately July 2003. I waited a full three years before upgrading to my second phone in August 2006.

I never had an issue with either device. A few minor blemishes but no major damage. They certainly never needed replacements. They could’ve lasted longer, but I eventually the outdatedness of a phone wears on you. I don’t have to be the first guy on the block with the cool, new gadget, but I also don’t want to fall too far behind.

So, after a 26-month run with the reliable flip phone, I decided to upgrade for ’09 to the LG Dare. I looked into Verizon’s Blackberry Storm, and even toyed with the idea of switching to AT&T and investing in an iPhone. Buying the phones was feasible, but their monthly plans were too much for me to make the leap at this point.

Instead, I opted for a more financially reasonable alternative, the LG Dare. It has the touch screen, music capabilities, 3.2 megapixel camera, mobile Internet (though I’m on a usage-based pay system, so I probably won’t use it much) and plenty of other cool features. Plus, it should keep my monthly phone bill within $5 or $10 of what it was with my old phone.

The phone arrived a week ago, and I was impressed. Admittedly, the touch screen had me worried at first, but after a few hours of toying around, it felt natural and my texting capabilities seemed just as proficient as they were on my old phones keypad (although Jessie will tell you I wasn’t all that proficient to begin with.)

I restored my contacts, adjusted the settings to my liking, tried out the camera, and was feeling very comfortable with my decision to upgrade. Then Jessie sent me a PIX message, and it wouldn’t come through. I also couldn’t access mobile Internet.

And so began everyone’s favorite venture into the world of customer service. Customer Service Saturday began at about 11 a.m. My first call featured only a 10-minute wait on hold before a Middle-Eastern-sounding gentleman picked up. I forget his name, but he was a great help. He listened to my problem, seemed to identify the problem and when I hung up a few minutes later, everything was working properly. I was able to send and receive PIX and access mobile Web.

That lasted for all of 45 minutes. Then I was again not able to send or receive PIX or access mobile Web. So, I made my second call to Verizon’s customer service, working through the several steps of the automated directory before being put on hold by technical support once again. After a 15-minute wait, I hung up and called back. My bad. Another 20-minute wait before a woman with a valley girl manner-of-speaking picked up.

She apologized for my long wait, heard me out about my story, including my previous call to Verizon, and then apologized for that. She said the first guy might have left my account open and logged out of the system incorrectly, resetting whatever he had fixed. It seemed plausible to me. So, the lady (again, I forget the name) went through some steps that included restoring all of my phone settings to factory defaults. And voila, it was working again.

For an hour or so I was able to send and receive PIX messages and access mobile Internet. Then, the same problem reared its ugly head. To add insult to injury, I was receiving the error message: “Unable to verify your account information. Please call Customer Service.” Oh, if my phone only knew.

Third time’s the charm, right? Well, it was the most charming anyway. After another 15-minute wait on hold, I was greeted with the Tennessee twang of Robin. I feel like all customer service representatives should be trained to speak with a southern accent. It’s just hard to stay frustrated when you hear that.

She was very sympathetic to my situation and knew when pipe in with a lighthearted comment. After listening to my whole spiel, she went through similar steps as the others, and had my phone working again. She even sent me a PIX message of her cat, Satin, to test if my phone was receiving them. Of course, after what I’d been through already, I was hardly convinced that this was a permanent fix. Thankfully, she wasn’t entirely convinced either. Rather than ending it there,
she made it clear that she wasn’t going to let me stay in this cycle of temporary fixes.

I had her number from the PIX message she sent me. It was after p.m. at this point. She said that she was almost done at work for the day, and off Sunday, but if the problem resurfaced, I was to send her a text and she would help me take the next step on Monday.

Sure enough, the problem was back within a couple hours of hanging up. I waited until Sunday to send the text, and within 20 minutes, Robin said that she’d be happy to take care of it Monday morning. This was true customer service.

This morning, I sent the text to give her my work number where she could contact me—saving me the hassle of working through the grapevine of Verizon’s automated customer service.

With nothing irregular showing on my account settings and no similar problems reported by other LG Dare users, Robin came to the decision that I must simply have a malfunctioning device. So, she put in an order for me to receive a replacement Dare, which she said should arrive here by Wednesday.

I couldn’t be more frustrated with my new phone. It should work brand new out of the box. Without having any issues with my previous phones, it’s more than discouraging to run into this problem one week after buying the new device. But the story of my failed phone is of secondary significance here.

I don’t have a lot of experience with customer service people (oh, the fun I have to look forward to, I know), but this is an example of one person who really went above and beyond the duties of her job to ensure that a customer was taken care of. I enjoy the warm and fuzzy human-interest story as much as anyone, and I’m glad to get to tell this one. It’s refreshing when you encounter someone who displays genuine caring for selfless reasons.

Thanks, Robin. May the good karma find its way back to you soon.

Hosting My First Party to Start the New Year

After hedging back-and-forth on the issue for days, I finally decided—with encouragement from Jessie and my brother Mike’s girlfriend Crystal—to host a New Year’s Eve party at my apartment.

It was the first real get-together at my place. I’ve had a few people over, but nothing that involved preparation and party planning. All in all, I’d call it a success. Unfortunately, the attendee list didn’t include some of Jessie and my closest friends who were out of town, but we had at least seven people in there for most of the night and as many as 13 at one point.

There were no major casualties to speak of, but being a bit on the neat-freak side, I was caught a bit off guard by just how much cleanup follows a party. Several spills, empty and half-empty bottles and cans, one shattered picture frame, and several bags of trash later, my apartment was pretty much back to normal the next morning.

We also met the neighbors sometime after midnight. I was worried it was going to be a curmudgeonly old man telling me to keep down that racket. Instead it was the young tenant next door who wanted to join in the fun.

I don’t have the energy (or the cash flow) to make it a regular occurrence, but I’m definitely glad I hosted. Jessie and I put together an awesome five-and-f-half-hour playlist. We had delicious drinks, Jell-O shots, and snacks, including Jessie’s amazing pizza dip. I think all who attended would attest to having a good time. If you didn’t get an invite, don’t take it personally. Because of the late decision to host, we were sort of scrambling in the last few days before the party.

Anyway, let me take this opportunity to wish a happy new year to everyone who has read this blog even once since it started. I know posting has been inconsistent and sort of faded off, but I’m going to try to keep it going for 2009. Hopefully I’ll continue to find excuses to fill this cyberspace with my meandering thoughts this year. And more importantly, I hope you’ll find reasons to want to read them.

UPDATE:
In case you were wondering about that TV upgrade from the last post, here's the update. Apparently it's going to my Uncle Rich. It's OK, though, I sort of took myself out of the running anyway. The next TV I get will probably be a flatscreen HDTV. And, well, that won't be until sometime down the road...unless my current TV breaks down.