Thoughtless

My negligence in blogging reminds me of a quote from Thomas Paine. It's from The Crisis essay III. Honestly, I love the first three pages of it. It's smashing. I won't quote it all here because I don't wish to bore you all to death. I know what it's like to open a blog and see that the entry is 3 pages long. It's a serious time investment. But please indulge me by reading a couple of quotes.

"In the progress of politics, as in the the common occurrences of life, we are not only apt to forget the ground we have traveled over, but frequently neglect to gather up experience as we go. We expend, if I may so say, the knowledge of every day on the circumstances that produce it, and journey on in search of new matter and new refinements: But...it is pleasant, and sometimes useful, to look back, even to the first periods of infancy, and trace the turns and windings through which we have passed...

"Truly, may we say, that never did man grow old in so short a time! We have crowded the business of an age into the compass of a few months, and have been driven through such a rapid succession of things, that, for the want of leisure to think, we unavoidably wasted knowledge as we came, and have left nearly as much behind us as we brought with us: But the road is yet rich with the fragments, and , before we fully lose sight of them, will repay us for the trouble of stopping to pick them up."

I think that sums it up well. I really don't take time to meditate and learn from my experiences. I expend the knowledge of every day on the circumstances that produce it. I don't take the time to learn from what I experience.

Honestly, blogging and writing in journals, I think, is a powerful way to learn from experiences. So I'm going to begin to think more. I'm going to attempt to pick up the fragments which litter the road.

For those of you who got this far and have a little more patience, here is another little gem from Thomas: "There are certain circumstances, which, at the time of their happening, are kind of riddles, and as every riddle is to be followed by its answer, so those kind of circumstances will be followed by their events, and those events are always the true solution. A considerable space of time may lapse between, and unless we continue our observations from the one to the other, the harmony of them will pass away unnoticed: But the misfortune is, that partly from the pressing necessity of some instant things, and partly form the impatience of our own tempers, we are frequently in such a hurry to make out the meaning of every thing as fast as it happens, that we thereby never truly understand it; and not only start new difficulties to ourselves by so doing, but, as it were, embarrass Providence in her good designs."

Good Old Roger

Here are a couple of quotes for today:

"In heaven when they said brains I thought they said trains, and I hid behind the door"

"I'm willing to offer my summer cabin in Vermont for a honeymoon, should you be exchanging marital vows."

You Look Like

So I after have a discussion with DeEtte about who looked like who, I decided to consult the experts. I went to several sites but this one seemed a little more legit, and besides it creates these cool collages. So here is Number One. Decided I'd start with a good picture. You know, an angsty one. Results:

Not bad, Sting, Tom Cruise, Van Dam, and some how also Brandon Lee (koo koo), and an Asian woman...Kyoko Fukada! I look so much like an Asian woman. Hard to tell us apart. When I was in Japan everyone thought I was a native. "Nice kimono." This is, of course, until I spoke. Blast!

Next I decided to mix things up a little and try a more normal picture. Whoa!

Oh Yeah! Now this is more like it. Andre Agassi, I know who that is. Vicente Fox....ok, I'm like half Mexican and I do have a little facial hair. Brendan Fraser, we do both have some scruff. And wait, Alexander Lukashenko! Nice. The caught the facial hair and the receding hair-line. This is sophisticated stuff! Other dudes...not sure who you are...wait, isn't Bruno Ganz the dude who played Hitler! They nailed me. I'm a dead ringer for Hitler. After all, we share the same birthday. Uncanny. Ok, lets take this to the next level.

Sweet Baby James! 2 men and 6 women. Not bad. They are batting a 250. That's respectable. J-Lo...they must have known about my ghetto booty. Tim Curry, I don't have facial hair this time, tough match but they found it. And my all time favorite, I look like Sally Struthers!!!!!

Now I decided to test this stuff by putting a real celebrity in there and seeing if it could match. I have to give them credit for the first 2 matches, but the rest have sent me into hysterics for the past hour.

I can't decide which I like better, Ariel Sharon or Pharrell Williams? Robbie Coltrane is pretty great and don't forget about Al Pacino, after all they are both black and white photos. Actually Carlos Santana may be the closest match. Dang there's just no getting it past these pros.

Pavarotti

A few years ago I started to get into the music of Luciano Pavarotti. I decided that one of my life goals would be to see him in concert. To help me out, a few of my friends got me two tickets to see Luciano in concert, in DC, for his final farewell concert.

I traveled to DC on the date of the concert with my friend Marie. We were so excited. I'll never forget coming out of the metro at the Verizon Center and seeing the sign on the doors saying that the concert was cancelled.

Since then there has been talk of rescheduling but it just hasn't happened. He has struggled with pancreatic cancer and last night he died.

No piece of music has ever moved me the way that Nessun Dorma does when being performed by Pavarotti. I believe this is one of the greatest musical performances I've ever heard. I get goose-bumps every time, without fail.

Deadlines

So I've nearly hit the 2 month mark since my last blog. Grounds for total dismissal from any link list. So I thought I'd blog a little. But fact of the matter is, I don't really have any funny stories, deep thoughts, bizarre encounters or otherwise noteworthy anecdotes to share. Life is life right now, and I have little desire to expound on the depths of my shallow mind. So having pissed off my readership again with a short and totally unenlightened blog, which is almost worse than no blog, I'll end this little exposé.

England I

Ok, I didn't even bring a camera on this trip. I'm not big into that. I feel like we spend more time trying to document a moment that never really happens because we are trying to document it. It cuts into the real experience. Another reason that I didn't bring one is that I'm on my own and I tend to think that what makes pictures special is the people. Now I'm narcissistic so I'm not into pictures of just me. And lastly, I don't own a camera. So I've taken a few pics on my phone and those will have to suffice.

So far I've seen an array of London sights but here are a couple of highlight events:

1 - Wedding
My friends wedding was beautiful and the sealing was...no word to describe...I don't want to trivialize it by using words like 'special' or 'moving'.

2 - Lincoln
This is where I lived as a kid and stayed with my grandparents for a whole summer when I was 12. I was surprised how well I remembered the place. And the Lincoln Cathedral is beautiful. Then there were the family visits. Way better than I expected. This bit of the trip is really worth a whole blog. Might do that later.

3 - Wimbledon
That's right. Wimbledon. I saw several matches and ate strawberries and cream. I even got on Centre Court to see Nadal (number 2 seed) play. It was magical. After it all I met a family friend, 90 year old Dennis. We went and ate at a pub.

4 - Wicked
Yeah I was really surprised by this. I was kinda like...there's a decently priced ticket...people rave...not too excited about musicals right now...I'll go. It was amazing!!! So worth it. The girl who played the wicked witch of the west was so rock amazing. Drew you right in. You loved her right from the start. She brought down the house with her voice. Gave me goose-bumps like 3 or 4 times. Yeah. Loved it. Loved it. Loved it.

Much more to come. I've still got 3 more days in London but I think that Wimbledon and Wicked will be hard to beat. Not to mention Westminster and St. Paul's.

Life Lesson # 4,392,671

Ok. I'm in England right. And I'm helping my friend get ready for his wedding. Not doing much. I've had chips and gravy once, KFC twice, and McDonald's 3 times. These english people love american crap. Well last night my friend's finance and her best friend were deciding best how to get home. Well they each had a car and were deciding whether to take one or the other, or both. It was a big dilemma where if they took one then the other would have to get up early and come back into town with them. Course if they took 2 then both had to drive. It went on for 20 minutes. Twenty. After they left I said to my friend, "How long does it take to figure out how to get home!?" Now's where I begin to feel like a blackguard.

My friend explained that his fiance's best friend has MS. This means she doesn't have much strength and so she was worried about having to get up early if she didn't drive home. He went on to explain that she and her husband are also really poor. So she didn't want to have to spend extra money on gas to get home.

How senseless of me?How unkind?How ungenerous? How critical? How presumptuous? I am absolutely ashamed of myself. So often I am quick to judge. Quick to place blame. Quick to categorize. Quick to write off. I'm so quick to think that I understand the situation and that I am smarter than they because I've got it all figured out already. I need to step back and give the benefit of the doubt, seek to understand, and seek to be humble.

The Scientist

This is the song that converted me to Coldplay. I love this video. But you have to watch it all the way through for it to be good. So if you are bored and wish to spend 4:24 on some good music then click here. If you don't have the patience...wait for Idaho Part II.

Idaho Part I

So Idaho….Most of you know that there is not a lot of love in my heart for Idaho. It's just not a place I would choose to be. I often wonder why people voluntarily live there. So this last weekend I traveled there under somewhat unfavorable circumstances, but it turned out to be quite valuable. I really don’t feel like delving into the more grave matters so I’ll stick to a couple of lighter ones.

Before I drove the Esperanza:

I drove this:

A 1988 Ford F150, like this one but white and blue with no tailgate and not as shiny. It was a good truck. 170K miles and going strong. It was a standard transmission and had a stick shift that was about 2.5 feet long and had the bench seat so that you could have your girl ride center and put your arm around her. Amazing. The body was almost without blemish until I let my girlfriend borrow it to run errands :). It got about 10 miles to the gallon but was totally reliable.

When it came time to move out to Boston, I decided I needed to move on to a more fuel efficient and compact car. So I sold it to my old man as a favor for 500 bucks. I miss that truck.

This weekend we were doing a lot of home improvement and so we used the old Ford and I got to drive it. Oh, nostalgia. Malick and I drove it out to the old house I grew up in, to get some carpet one night. She still purrs. Once we got the truck loaded up with all the carpet we stopped for a moment to look at the stars. The old house is out in the boonies and the skies are so clear. The stars are brilliant out in Idaho where there are no people to detract from it with artificial lights. We just stood and stared into the night sky for 5 minutes and soaked it in. Maybe there are some things that I love about Idaho. I certainly love that old truck.

Boredom Ahead

Ok, I know that there are many of you out there (cough, a;llias;dJulieakdli, cough) that aren't too keen on blogs that have to do with my area's of interest such as my posts about art and dancing (ie. "I must point out that copying and pasting someone else's work is still not a sufficient blog. We want to hear from you.") Many of you prefer to be informed about me and my life and meanderings. You enjoy blogs like the last one I posted. Ones that seem personal. Well let me tell you, there is only boredom and frustration ahead for you people.

Yesterday I was so bored at work that somewhere in the depths of my mind, a memory surfaced. It was a memory from a year or 2 ago when I went to an exhibition at the MET. An artist/sculptor/architect named Santiago Calatrava. He makes beautiful works of art and sculpture and then sometimes uses them in his architecture. Here's an example. He enjoys studying the human body and how it is built. He looks at how the head or rib cage is suspended off the spine through the complex system of ligaments, tendons and muscles.





Some of these studies lead too sculptures. Some of the sculptures have inspired his architecture, like this apartment complex in Sweden.

Or this apartment complex being built next to the Brooklyn Bridge.


I wish that I was thoughtful enough and knowledgeable enough to be able to delve into the theory and history of architecture. But ultimately I’m a bit of an ignoramus and all I can tell you is what I enjoy. I wish that I could inspire you by expounding ideas about the value, methodology, and psychology of architecture and it’s connection to the human race. But at this point I can barely postulate what seems inspiring to me. Architecture interacts with me and I with it. Humanity has the desire and power to manipulate its surroundings. From the earliest stages, man has sought to build and create.

From Giza to the Freedom tower, what drives us? Is it worth paying a few extra million so that we aren't just building another concrete box. Or is it worth a few extra million to build a concrete box and call it "modern"? Do the man made portions of our environment matter to us? Do they affect us? Do we value functionality, beauty, or perhaps an ideal? What makes something beautiful? Would I be as likely to go to the ICA if it was still in it's original nasty firehouse? Would the Boston skyline be as beautiful with out the Zakim bridge? What if the bridges in Cambridge, over the Charles, looked like the ones over the canals in Idaho? Would I be as excited to stroll down Mem Drive on that sunny Sunday afternoon? What about the NYC skyline? Does the absence of the WTC towers change something? Why do people love the Brooklyn Bridge? Would they love it as much if it was built like the Tri-borough bridge? And what about Paris? What value does the Eiffel tower hold? It serves no functional purpose. It was not built for business or for housing or for any practical purpose. What about the Colosseum? What feelings were evoked in those who saw it for the first time, thousands of years ago? The Parthenon? Do the buildings really matter? Do the aesthetics? Do the locations? They do to me.

I know that I wish Government center weren't so damned ugly. I know that I love visiting the ICA and gazing out over Boston from a glass corridor. I know I love walking the river Charles on a Sunday afternoon and appreciate the bridges and buildings. I know that I get excited when I go to the Getty, Guggenheim, or the JFK, if for no other reason than I love the buildings. I know I love being inside the Frank Lloyd Wright room in the MET. I know that I love Tim's night pictures of the Zakim bridge. I know that in 2 weeks I'm going to be chilling with Big Ben and Westminster Cathedral and I'm stoked.

So what's it worth to us? Is it all worth millions? Is it worth paying 12 or more billion to make a freedom tower that is not only functional, but inspiring and beautiful. Are the arts worth patronizing and supporting? Do we really give enough attention and appreciation? Does society show that it values art in more than it's words?

Well here are a few that inspire me:

Pantheon - Rome

Falling Water - Frank Lloyd Wright

Entrance to the Louvre - I.M. Pei

Tenerife Opera House - Calatrava

Alamillo Bridge in Seville - Calatrava

Chicago Spire - Calatrava (should be finished by 2009, click to enlarge)

So maybe I wasn't very personal in this blog. But maybe, just maybe, you'll find that even though I'm not baring my soul, you are actually learning more about me. Lucky you. Read on reader.

NYC

I haven't been to NY since February and my nephew Lamine is getting big. So I headed down for Memorial Day. My family met me at the bus stop. Lamine came running up to me saying, "Uncle Seth (pronounced - sef). Uncle Seth." He is a such a great little kid. I love him. So here are some pictures. They date from the time he was a few months until today, when he is almost 2.

He took great pride in having peed on the bed and then pooed in the tub, all while Malick and I were trying to give him a bath. So we put him in the sink while we cleaned up.

Winter Gear.

New Year's Eve 2005.

Fishing in Idaho in May of 2006. (Me, Josh (older brother), Mom, Rozalyn (youngest sister), Malick (my brother-in-law)).

Lamine wants to help Josh with the fish.

I call this picture "Li'l Pimp."

Looking sharp!

This was in Central Park on Sunday. He loves water ('gee' in Malick's home language). It was a beautiful day. This is shortly after he threw up.

This is a guy we saw in Central Park. There was a big African Drumming crew behind him, complete with a token white guy trying to dance. Hilarious. I took this guy's picture for proof. Amazing isn't it?

So on Sunday night, we got home from Central Park about 7pm and had lunch. That's right, lunch. Malick is a real night owl. Then we chilled in the apartment and I played with Lamine till midnight. Malick and I decided to make a cheese cake around 1am. After that I fell asleep on the couch as Malick started cooking dinner. Then I woke up around 4am when dinner was ready and Malick and I ate some delicious lamb. Somewhere around 5am we decided to have desert. The cheese cake was bomb diggity.

So anyway, it was a great weekend and I love my nephew.

The End

Schleep

So why is it that I can NOT get up in the mornings. Doesn't much matter how much sleep I've had. I just can't get up. My condolences to my patient roommate Tim, who has to listen to me hitting snooze about 10 times on 2 alarms, each morning. But can you blame me? After all I have a super comfy King Bed and it loves me. Ok, a little Seth Sleep History.

Ages 0-7: Don't remember.

Ages 8-13: Parents made us go to bed at 8pm every night. 8! Waking up was tough, especially for family scripture study, but it wasn't too bad.

Ages 14-19: This is best described by an example. I'd come home late at night from some activity. I'd turn on the light to my bedroom, drop my book bag, and fall onto my bed face first. I was asleep before my body touched the bed. Seriously. I'd wake up at 7:10 the next morning in my shoes, Levis, and coat. I'd change into a new shirt, grab a piece of bread and then cut through several of my neighbors back yards to catch the bus because I'd already missed it at my stop.

Mission: Well it goes without saying that I had regular sleep. It's just lucky that companionship study was after an hour of personal study. I don't like to talk in the mornings.

College: I think I averaged 4-5 hours of sleep a night, for most of my college career. Except when it was finals, in which case I averaged 2. My last 3 weeks of college I slept about 8 hours a week and became a connoisseur of energy drinks.

Now that I'm a working Professional: I can't go to be before midnight. It is utterly impossible. I generally get 6-8 hours of sleep. Thanks or no-thanks to my flexible work schedule, I rarely get to work before 9:30am.

Side Notes:

1. I can sleep anytime and anywhere.

(That's me on the bottom row. I fell asleep in the gym while on tour at BYU-Hawaii. Everybody lined up for the picture and a good laugh.)

2. I am an incredibly heavy sleeper. I wake for no man. I once fell asleep at a 4th of July city fair in the middle of a crowd of people.

3. I don't like to talk when I wake up. I'm super cranky. Give me a good 1-2 hours to get going.

You light sleepers are blessed.

Guau!

Ok people. This will give you an insight into one of my loves and passions. There are few things to enjoy in life that can compare with amazing dancing. I tend to get cravings at times. Hankerings. I just feel famished for a spot of amazing dancing. So I'm glad to have discoved that I can get thousands of amazing dance videos on youTube. Resolution is low, and tapped is never as good as live, but this still rocks. I hope you enjoy this as much as I do. If you ever come to a dance competition with me (planning to go to one in NYC over the summer) I'll get you hooked.

I've seen this couple a few times at competitions. They were 3rd or 4th in the world when this was recorded.

I Love You

Ok. Not the best picture, I know. But it's a live one. I was only like 5 people away from her. And she was rockin' me. I went to Joss Stone back in February with DeEtte at a tiny little venue in NYC. She only did 2 promotional shows before the release of her new album, and I went to one of them. This venue could not have held more than a few hundred people. Joss has an incredible mix of innocence and sultry stage presence. It's rather disarming and intriguing.

She had a 11 piece band. It consisted of 3 backup singers (the sista's - and yes he is also a sista), bass guitar, lead and backup guitar, pianist, keyboardist, trumpet, alto sax, and drummer (300 pounds of blinging, low riding, rhythm). The band kicked some serious trash. Joss came out and rocked her new single 'Tell Me About It'. Then she began to groove us with her neo-soul pipes. This 18 year old 6 foot British beauty (bit of an oxymoron) has the voice of a mature Harlem soul singer.

In my entranced and grooving state, I new I had to make contact with her. I waited for one of those moments of quite pause provided when the singer is prepping the audience for the next song. I found my moment and yelled out, "I love you Joss." She looked down in her shy and sexy way and said, "Thanks." Recognition. That's right. Everyone around me stared at me and said, "You just got recognition man. That's special." Dang straight.

We danced and grooved till she left the stage and then clamored until she came back for an encore. She came back with a dozen white roses. She started into a love ballad and then threw out a single rose. Being 6'3" has to count for something but destiny was on my side as I jumped and snagged the flor from the aire.

Joss and I have a special connection. But honestly the best part of the whole show was when she sang 'Right To Be Wrong'. She was rocking the song and we were all loving it. Then right close to when the song usually ends she sings, "Got a right to be wrong..." and she pauses. Everyone is just screaming and shouting. She waits till is starts to quiet and then sings again "Got a right to be wrong..." The crowd goes wild again and she waits for them to quiet down. Guys keep cat calling her so she finally puts her index finger on her lips and the crowd falls deathly silent. Then in her innocent yet provocative way she lightly sings but nearly speaks, "So just leave me.....alone." Then the band breaks back in and Joss starts wailing! They wail on for another 3 minutes of reprise improvey goodness.

mm.

She is going to be in Boston at the Avalon on June 11th. I'm going.

Art?

Banksy - Graffiti Artist

Wall between Israel and the West Bank:

Banksy's manifesto. May not seem to make much sense but think about it a little:

An extract from the diary of Lieutenant Colonel Mervin Willett Gonin DSO who was among the first British soldiers to liberate Bergen-Belsen in 1945.

I can give no adequate description of the Horror Camp in which my men and myself were to spend the next month of our lives. It was just a barren wilderness, as bare as a chicken run. Corpses lay everywhere, some in huge piles, sometimes they lay singly or in pairs where they had fallen. It took a little time to get used to seeing men women and children collapse as you walked by them and to restrain oneself from going to their assistance. One had to get used early to the idea that the individual just did not count. One knew that five hundred a day were dying and that five hundred a day were going on dying for weeks before anything we could do would have the slightest effect. It was, however, not easy to watch a child choking to death from diptheria when you knew a tracheotomy and nursing would save it, one saw women drowning in their own vomit because they were too weak to turn over, and men eating worms as they clutched a half loaf of bread purely because they had to eat worms to live and now could scarcely tell the difference. Piles of corpses, naked and obscene, with a woman too weak to stand proping herself against them as she cooked the food we had given her over an open fire; men and women crouching down just anywhere in the open relieving themselves of the dysentary which was scouring their bowels, a woman standing stark naked washing herself with some issue soap in water from a tank in which the remains of a child floated. It was shortly after the British Red Cross arrived, though it may have no connection, that a very large quantity of lipstick arrived. This was not at all what we men wanted, we were screaming for hundreds and thousands of other things and I don't know who asked for lipstick. I wish so much that I could discover who did it, it was the action of genius, sheer unadulterated brilliance. I believe nothing did more for these internees than the lipstick. Women lay in bed with no sheets and no nightie but with scarlet red lips, you saw them wandering about with nothing but a blanket over their shoulders, but with scarlet red lips. I saw a woman dead on the post mortem table and clutched in her hand was a piece of lipstick. At last someone had done something to make them individuals again, they were someone, no longer merely the number tatooed on the arm. At last they could take an interest in their appearance. That lipstick started to give them back their humanity.

Source: Imperial War museum

www.banksy.co.uk

MBA

I've always wondered what those MBA graduates are up to. I mean, besides coming up with corporate jargon like "synergy" and getting paid a lot more than me. Well here is what the MBA's at Raytheon are up to.

"The Raytheon red is evolving this year. The new red reinvigorates the Raytheon brand and provides additional richness and boldness that helps further distinguish our marketing and communication materials and our messaging from that of our competitors."

Wow that's exactly what I thought when I saw the new logo.

Here are the new guidelines:

PMS: 186
CMYK: 0,100,81,4
RGB 206,17,38

This is serious. Enjoy the logo:

He Was Injured

CHAROLLAIS (Saône-et-Loire, Burgundy, France · Goat-P)

I've dined at some of the finest restaurants in Philadelphia including, Fogo de Chao, Ruth's Chris, Cuba Libre, Brasserie Perrier, and Striped Bass. I've been using the wonderful benefits I receive from Uncle Ray to help me out. And while I've had some amazing and expensive culinary experiences (including the second and third best beef I've ever tasted) I found that for only 20 dollars, I could be filled with more delight. "Tria". It's a wine cheese and beer cafe, of sorts. It's got more of an old pub feel with none of the frat party. They are open late (1:15am - I freaking love you already) and have the finest of simple pleasures. I started with a cheese called "CHAROLLAIS (Saône-et-Loire, Burgundy, France · Goat-P) Dense, rich pate center with a crinkly almond colored rind—tart, intense, and beautiful." It was served on a little wooden platter with honey and some bread. As I took in this wonderful cheese I listened to Keane, U2, traditional Celtic music, and Jimmy Hendrix. Could life get better. It did. For my meal I had a 3 cheese and sun dried tomato toasted-panino along with Reed's Apple Cider Ginger Brew. After weeks of living in Philadelphia, I found my slice. It was a warm night tonight and it hints of Spring, my favorite time of year. I smiled the whole 2 blocks back to my hotel. Haven't done that in a while. It's been one month, and it still sucks.

Loss

It sucks to loose your best friend.

I Thought We Were Watching For The Commercials

I thought commercials were the real reason that we watched the superbowl. I certainly didn't watch it to see Peyton Manning getting his panties in bunch every time his mother wasn't around to protect him. Well this superbowl was a real let down on the commercials. Sprint had one for their broadband internet cell cards called "Connectile Dysfunction". But here is a commercial that I kinda liked and it reminded me of Tobias.

I Triple Dog Dare You

So DeEtte and I have this strange tradition. It was borne of sleep deprivation, an overload of school credits and caffeine. It involved a trip to the 711 and a dare. Since then (ocationally) when we are at a 711 we each buy the other the most disgusting thing we can find in the store. We've eaten everything from spicy vienna sausages to pig skins. This time we took things to a new low. Sardines in olive oil and "Fancy Feast" chicken and liver cat food. I ate the sardines and DeEtte ate the cat food. It was far worse than we thought. Click picture to watch.

Racist Rain Man

So there are a number of interesting characters down here in NJ. The other day I went to the break room to get a snack. A medium sized ubiquitous looking guy was busy talking to himself when I'm came in. He was getting ready to eat 3 little boxes of Wheaties all at once. So he was an older man, wearing a blue lab coat (like most of the blue collar workers here). Ok, not funny. See the trouble with being at the top is that people tend to think you are pretentious. Anyway, so he begins talking about a sports player he likes. Now I don't know sports so we will call him Bill. "So I...I...I really like Billy, see, billy is great see, billy is great...yeah. He, he knows how to play. yeah. he's a white guy. I like hi.m. That's why I bought my wheaties...yeah...cause he's on them. Yeah...I like him because he's a white guy. You don't get many white guys anymore....yeah. I used to like (insert name of some famous player) tooo...yeah...he was a white guy..... He was really good. " No joke.