Beardtober

My office is sponsoring a contest this month called Beardtober. The premise is simple: the participating guys let their beards grow throughout October, and the best and worst beards at the end win prizes. The entry fees, and the opt-out donation for those who don’t want to grow, go to Vogel Alcove, a great organization in Dallas that provides day care to homeless children while their parents work or look for work.

Although I’m a better candidate for Worst Beard than Best, I signed up and haven’t shaved since Thursday. I might post pics here, but we have an official Beardtober website where you can follow everyone’s progress. Most of the “before” pictures are our company ID pics, some of which are really old. Mine is from 2001, when I still had hair. They gave me 15:1 odds.

I Want to Wipeout

I’ve been on break the last week, staying home with the family to relax a bit and help with pottytraining. That’s why the blog has been so quiet lately. But now I’m back at the grindstone, which means I should be able to post more frequent updates.

One of my most interesting accomplishments during the break, other than not getting peed on (I don’t think), is applying to be a contestant on ABC’s hit game show called Wipeout. In case you haven’t seen it, Wipeout sends contestants through four wacky obstacle courses as they compete for $50,000. As they go, the hosts provide commentary that’s one of the best parts of the show. Just watch it. You’ll understand.

Jenny and I discovered Wipeout right after Brenden was born. We are big fans of other obstacle-course shows like Ninja Warrior and MXC, so we gave Wipeout a try and rolled with laughter. Unfortunately, Jenny’s c-section incision didn’t really appreciate the show’s humor, but she was having so much fun that we kept watching anyway. After that, we were hooked.

I filled out an online application and now must wait for a phone call that would invite me to LA for an interview. I have no idea what my odds are, but surely thousands of people have applied already for Season 4, which airs next summer. If I do manage to get picked for the show, I would spend a week in California for taping at some point this fall or next spring.

To wish me well, the correct lingo is “Good luck, and big balls.” You’ll understand once you watch the show. =)

Posted in Fun

Hug Etiquette

Hugs are good. Hugs are important and can boost your emotional and physical health. However, there’s an etiquette to hugging that varies by country, region, religion, gender, family, and any number of other issues. If you break that etiquette, people get creeped out. Sometimes they file reports.

In many European countries, both men and women greet each other with a hug and/or kiss, sometimes multiple kisses on each cheek. In Brazil, people are very affectionate and often hug people upon meeting them for the first time. On the other hand, in Islam, physical contact between members of the opposite sex in public, even just a handshake, is generally frowned upon, particularly in more traditional sects. Even married couples aren’t supposed to show physical affection in public.

In America, I think we’re somewhere in the middle. Men tend to shake hands with other men, but some male friends or family members do hug briefly IF they make it more manly with a few solid pounds on the back. However, athletes in uniform follow a completely different set of rules that allows butt-slapping at any time and long, full-body, jumping-up-and-down hugs in the event of a big win. Female friends are more likely to hug than shake hands, although new acquaintances follow the male protocol of handshaking.

Thanks to the sexual harassment videos we have to watch at work, male-female interactions in America are trickier, which has produced odd hug derivations such as the side hug (one arm around the other person, only sides touch) and the A-frame (start facing each other but standing apart, then lean toward each other to touch only at the shoulders).

Individual preference also plays a large role in mixed-gender greetings. Some people of each gender are huggers by nature and likely to initiate a hug. Others are anti-huggers and only begrudgingly hug when the other person initiates it. In a greeting involving mixed-gender friends, many men let the woman take the lead to avoid an awkward faux-pas. Finally, mixed-gender work situations are more handshake-oriented in most organizations. Southwest, with its family-oriented culture, is a possible exception. My department isn’t very huggy, but the People department is very huggy. I even hugged Jenny’s coworkers, including her boss.

Are you a hugger or an anti-hugger? Vote in the new poll on the right. There are plenty of both around. My cousin Brad is a big-time hugger with guys and girls. Girls get a normal, full-body hug, while guys get the handshake that pulls you into a single-arm hug with a pat on the back. My friend Mad Bomber, on the other hand, is an anti-hugger. If I tried to hug him, he’d probably shoot me. Either approach is fine, just a personal preference.

I think I’m a closet hugger. I enjoy hugging people, guys and girls, and think everyone could use more hugs. However, I try to be sensitive to other people’s personal space issues and the other weirdness that can surround hugging, so I follow the other person’s lead. Bottom line: if you need a hug, come find me.

Here are a few other helpful articles on the subject:

A Guide to Hugging

Hug Etiquette Basics

Chess

Lately I’ve been on a chess kick. Ever play chess? I found it intimidating before I tried it because I didn’t understand the rules. Some pieces could move certain ways but not others, so surely it was a very complicated game that was difficult to learn. Then I learned the basics and realized that chess is like checkers on steroids. It’s fairly easy to learn but very difficult to master.

However, I’m slowly getting better. The iPhone has an app called Chess with Friends that lets you play…chess with your friends. I make a move, the iPhone sends it to my friends, and they move whenever they feel like it. The games generally take quite a while as a result, but it’s lots of fun. Then last night I discovered another app that lets me play against a computer instead, which is much faster but lacks the human element. It offers variable difficulty and hints to help you learn and improve.

Any of you play (besides Mad Bomber)?

Posted in Fun

Moly, Moly, Moly

I have moles. Lots of moles. So many moles that I look like a reverse constellation – white skin with dark spots. Some people call them beauty marks. Cindy Crawford sports the most famous mole in the world, except hers is called a “beauty mark” so she can remain a supermodel. If moles make one beautiful, I should be on the cover of GQ. (I’m still waiting for my call) My dermatologist jokes that I can keep my kids entertained for hours by letting them play connect-the-dots on my back.

He also says I make him nervous.

On top of my family history of skin cancer, the number and characteristics of my moles put me at higher risk for skin cancer, including malignant melanoma. I try to limit my sun exposure, which should help a bit, but the risk is already programmed into my skin regardless of sun exposure. Over time, some of my moles change in size, shape, and/or color, making them potentially precancerous.

To fight back, I visit the dermatologist twice a year, and each time he removes the two or three most suspicious moles. It’s a simple, quick procedure taking maybe 60 seconds each – anesthetic injection, removal by blade, electric cauterization. So far the lab hasn’t reported that any were actual skin cancer, but with some it was just a matter of time. After 15 years or so, I’ve had probably 40 or 50 removed. Mom nags me when necessary to schedule my next appointment.

The good news is that my moles have inspired me to compose a poem, my first in a very long time. I have entitled it, as you might have guessed, “Moly, Moly, Moly”.

Moly, Moly, Moly
Dang, my skin is moly
Like a white dalmatian, I
Have spots for all to see

Moly, Moly, Moly
Melanoma scares me
So I go back each
Six months for surgery

Moly, Moly, Moly
Which ones most displease thee?
Through the gift of Lidocaine
Thy cutting does not sting

Moly, Moly, Moly
Still millions left upon me
Try to play connect-the-dots
And angry I will be.

Sorry for ruining a great hymn, but it had to be done. Someday you’ll be able to sing it normally again, I promise. =)