Hop Thoughts: The first little blog post.

Hop Thoughts: I started this blog... New little blog post! Check it out.

Platforming

Check out my other blogs, tweets and facebook pages as I try to get recognized for something, anything:

Hop Thoughts: A blog about all things beer. (Just started this one, it will be rolling sooner than later.) @HopThoughts facebook page: Hop Thoughts

bwDining: A restaurant review blog. @bwDining facebook page: B W Dining

Jack's Daily Rant: An introduction to, and living character sketch for, the main character in the novel I am currently writing. Learn about him before his adventure really starts! @JackBarter facebook page: Jack Barter

Fractured Prose: The blog related to my already published poetry book. (Available on Amazon.com and the iBookstore.) I will be posting some new unpublished pieces here in preparation for a follow up book. @FracturedProse facebook page: Fractured Prose

Please fan, follow, and/or subscribe to all of these if you can. Or, just those that interest you most. And tell a friend. And tell them to tell a friend.

Thank you for your support.

Brian William Waddell is a foodie, beer geek, and author. His numerous blog posts range from food to politics. He also has a book of poetry, Fractured Prose, available here, and is ready to publish his second poetic endeavor.

Remember "Remember Creepy Crawlers?"

I do. It was a blog post I wrote about the time Kim caught, and released, a member of one of the most venomous species of scorpion on the planet. This blog tells a different story.

This past Monday I came home from a long, but decent, day at work, walked through the house and let in my dog, Grace. My girlfriend, Kim, was still at work but I figured she would be coming home soon. I turned on the kitchen light to feed Grace and drink some orange juice. Then, I sat down and grabbed my laptop to check email, facebook, etc. before Grace finished eating and came over to sit in front of me. She stared up at the corner where the wall meets the ceiling over the more commonly used (it faces the TV) couch in the family room. I followed her eyes up to the same point and saw a familiar shape. The scorpion looked to be approximately the same size, shape, and color as the one Kim had shown so much mercy to a couple months before.

I'm pretty sure the first word out of my mouth was not one my mother would ever say. The next set of thoughts that crossed my mind were intriguing, even to me. I wondered how long I could just watch the creature on the ceiling. Could it wait until Kim got home? Could I just leave it be, sit down with my laptop and pretend Grace and I never saw the thing? "It isn't moving very fast. Maybe it will just die on its own." Of course, none of these thoughts prevailed in the end, and I started to plan my attack.

"A glass!" My previous "experience" with a scorpion and subsequent Google and Wikipedia searches were being put to the test. I remembered a very important aspect of scorpions, they can't climb glass. Pretty much anything else, as was exhibited by this ones comfort on the seemingly precarious acoustic ceiling, but not glass. So I grabbed a glass. Then I looked at the width of the glass I had grabbed. Not big enough. At that moment however, a fishbowl seemed small and inadequate for use as a barrier between myself and the fierce little arachnid. I settled on a slightly wider rimmed glass and hurried back to the spot.

"If I put the glass up against the ceiling, the scorpion won't just fall into the glass." This realization was not comforting in the slightest. I needed some paper. Something with a fair amount of rigidity, but not so thick as to make it impossible to slide between glass and ceiling without losing the scorpion. For some reason I couldn't find the right thing. Everything would either be ruined (not sure how) or was not slick enough and the scorpion would latch on and never let go. Finally, I settled on an unopened bill.

My biggest worry at this point was that I would completely miss the scorpion and it would somehow fall on me or down in between the couch cushions. Yes, I apparently have that little faith in my hand-eye coordination. Well, I didn't miss. The scorpion was dead center in the glass. If the ceiling was smooth the rest would have been easy, slide the bill under the glass and the scorpion and be done. The ceiling is not smooth. The choppiness of the acoustic ceiling created a situation that did not allow my plan to come to fruition. I put down the bill, and held the glass firmly, as though the scorpion had either the strength or wherewithal to pry it away from the ceiling and go on its merry way. I must have held the glass there tightly for a good two minutes while I tried to come up with a new way to capture the predator. During this time the "Hope it doesn't go too far while you wait for Kim to get home" plan sounded pretty good.

I didn't come up with a new plan. I just got lucky. I released the glass slightly on one side and the little beast made a break for it. I slammed the glass down and caught the creature right down the middle of its abdomen. The business end was still in the glass so I started to press and twist the glass, trying to split the scorpion in half. It didn't work. I didn't know if it was just the way the ceiling hit that protected the little devil from being cut in half or if the exoskeleton was just that strong.

I successfully shifted the edge of the glass up toward the head and started pressing and twisting, attempting to decapitate the beast. This clearly did not make the thing happy, its stinger now swinging swiftly at the inside of the glass over and over again. After a fair amount of time with me twisting the glass back and forth, I attempted to scrape the scorpion from the ceiling. Apparently, my cranial attack had rendered the thing a little less sticky. It fell swiftly to the bottom of the glass and, what's more, it was on its back.

I carried the creature to the kitchen counter and contemplated how to keep it from ever causing any trouble again. I decided the best way to tell Kim of my accomplishment was to show her, so the garbage disposal was out. I wasn't sure how well scorpions swim, so I didn't risk pouring water over it in an attempt to drown it. I didn't figure a scorpion could flip itself back over once on its back, but I wasn't sure, so I found another glass to set upside down inside the glass I used to assault the beast. It wasn't dead yet, but I had made this glass house its grave.

Overcoming fears is never fun (at least at first), always difficult (at least psychologically), and sometimes dangerous. But, if you can do it you gain a whole new confidence. Now, if only that newfound confidence would let me quit checking my shoes for scorpions.

Brian William Waddell is a foodie, beer geek, and author. His numerous blog posts range from food to politics. He also has a book of poetry, Fractured Prose, available here, and is ready to publish his second poetic endeavor.

Crazy Pita Commercial

Yup, Crazy Pita now has a commercial. Check it out and let me know what you think.

NCAA Punishes Kindness, Turns Blind Eye to Criminals

For all of my sports watching life I've heard of the ridiculous rules the National Collegiate Athletic Association imposes upon its players and member schools. Some of the rules are necessary, some necessary evils, and others are just plain idiotic. Their most recent enforcement of the rules is simply a punitive move against citizenship and kindness, and their lack of punishment of arrested athletes has me scratching my head.

I am not a fan of Alabama Crimson Tide athletics, but I may become one. Any athletic program where 201 student-athletes give free textbooks to others is okay by me. Yes, Alabama is being punished for having a couple hundred young people who think getting free textbooks for others who can't afford it is worth the risk of NCAA punishment. Even if half of the athletes sold the books at discounted rates to non athletes, they were still doing something which helped another save a little (hard to come by as a student) cash. The program as a whole is on probation for three years, and all wins with identified players participating will be vacated. There has also been a $43,900 fine levied against the Crimson Tide (roughly the price of all the books "illegally" given away).

On the flip side of the NCAA rules coin, getting arrested doesn't put you or your school in any trouble with the powers that be. I heard today that, since 2005, 24 Florida Gator football players have been arrested. On this subject the NCAA has nothing to say. In fairness, eight of the arrests have lead to the charges being dropped, but that means 16 players likely did something that lead to a conviction in criminal court.

How can any governing body take themselves seriously given the interesting dichotomy revealed today: Do something good for others and you may be punished, do something illegal and no adverse action will be taken. This should be their slogan. What a great message they have sent today to high school and collegiate athletes all over the country.

Brian William Waddell is a foodie, beer geek, and author. His numerous blog posts range from food to politics. He also has a book of poetry, Fractured Prose, available here, and is ready to publish his second poetic endeavor.

Remember Creepy Crawlers?

I do.  They were little molds that made spiders and scorpions and other little rubbery toys for little boys to play with.  I didn't have one.  I hate spiders.  Until tonight I thought scorpions were interesting and much less of a fright than spiders.  Now I'm not so sure.

I was downstairs watching a replay of tonight's Mets/Phillies game while deciding whether to play video games or check email, facebook, etc.  Kim, my girlfriend, had gone upstairs to go to bed, and Grace, our dog, had followed.  I was interrupted in my contemplation by Kim hollering, "Brian!" I responded with a prompt, "Yeah?"  Which she countered with a strained, "Can you come help me with this."  Now, you must understand, I can't remember the last time Kim asked me for help.  With anything.  So, wanting to be her hero, as all men do with all women, I hurried upstairs to assist with whatever it was she needed.

I arrived at the door to our room and there stood Kim, just inside.  She stood with one arm at her side and the other holding a glass to the door, at about the height I would need to try to listen in on a conversation on the other side.  Then I saw the problem.  Inside the glass was about two inches of fury.  Yellow and thin, the stinger was extended straight and it was hard to identify without the signature curved tail, but after just a second, and Kim saying, "I think it's a scorpion," I thought so too.  Grace had spotted it on the door and watched it as it ascended, alerting Kim to its location.

Turns out, all she needed me to do was find a thick piece of paper to put between the door and the beast.  Not exactly a knight in shining armor, but I was happy to oblige.  I watched while she slid the paper masterfully under the legs of the arachnid, then moved the whole package to the edge of the door, and finally turned the glass to its natural, upright position with some struggling to get the scorpion off the paper and down into the bottom of the glass.  I read later that scorpions can't climb glass, but I'm not sure how much comfort that would have offered Kim as she walked the creature to the middle of our street and tossed it out of the glass.

In an effort to assuage both of our fears, I looked up scorpions on Wikipedia.  The idea was to find out that the species we had just encountered, and Kim had bravely vanquished, was completely harmless to humans.  As I read I found that only about 25 of the nearly 2,000 species of scorpions can kill with their sting.  Good.  Reading further I found that a couple of those species live in the Southwestern United States.  Not as good, but still not bad odds.  I then found the name of the most venomous scorpion in the area, the Arizona Bark Scorpion.  Ok, we're close to Arizona.  So I clicked on the link and found pictures of a yellow scorpion with a skinny tail.  Damn.  Even more comforting was a tiny part of the article that said that an antivenin was once available specifically for the bark scorpion but was taken out of production by the FDA due to problematic side-effects.  Great.  Mission accomplished.  Kim should have no trouble sleeping now.  Further research revealed that less than 1% of those stung ever reach a point that could end in a fatality, and thousands are stung each year.  Some relief, but certainly not comforting.

In summation, scorpions are interesting creatures, Kim is going to be up all night, and I know why she doesn't ask me to do much.  I did learn that if you want to find scorpions easily, you need a blacklight, they glow under the UV.  Mine are in the garage.  Don't think I'll be digging them out tonight.  

Brian William Waddell is a foodie, beer geek, and author. His numerous blog posts range from food to politics. He also has a book of poetry, Fractured Prose, available here, and is ready to publish his second poetic endeavor.

Who's Watching the Watchmen?

I'm no movie critic, and I'm no literary critic, but I certainly have an opinion about everything (surprised?). I went out and bought the Watchmen graphic novel due to an overwhelming buzz that said the movie followed the book amazingly well. I read the book then watched the movie and found that sometimes the buzz simply precedes the sting.

The book is spectacular. A brilliantly written piece of literature which had me ignoring two thirds of the artwork as I couldn't wait to get to the next frame, page, or chapter to see how each individual (sometimes not so) heroic life would unfold. The fate of the world seemed secondary to the fate of each individual character for much of the story while nuclear war waited ominously in the wings. The book has more depth than I can even attempt to tackle without giving the bulk of the plot away.

The movie is said to be very similar to the book. This may be true if you didn't read the book and just looked at the beautifully drawn frames. The movie copies much of the dialogue verbatim, the actors were well suited visually to their roles, and many of the shots are near direct copies of the frames in the book. This is the deepest the movie is able to reach in expressing the genius of the book. There is never that underlying ominous feeling that has you racing to see how the book ends. There is never a point where you become fully attached to any of the characters as you do with each one (even, to a point, the detached Dr. Manhattan) in the book. The action sequences are certainly over done and often overtly graphic in comparison to the graphic novel. The movie misses out on the beautiful subtlety of the novel and instead hits you in the face with an action flick for the masses.

The dumbing down of this book can be summed up by examining the origin of the title in the two different media. In the book, the title is taken from an old latin phrase meaning, "Who watches the watchman?" A decidedly deep reason for this books moniker, and one that plays very nicely with the climax. In the movie, each of the main characters was a part of a group of masked adventurers called The Watchmen. I suppose a twelve year old would find the latter more stimulating, but this wasn't a book for a twelve year old, and it certainly isn't a movie for one either.

Brian William Waddell is a foodie, beer geek, and author. His numerous blog posts range from food to politics. He also has a book of poetry, Fractured Prose, available here, and is ready to publish his second poetic endeavor.