Speechless

Faculty Show 2010 has now ended. Once again, I have no voice. My classes tomorrow could be quite short. My friend, Dave, the music teacher, recommended hot water with lemon and honey--that involved getting the honey out of this giant plastic container that Janet bought at Whole Foods once upon a time--I think it was a lifetime supply of honey (it looked like a 16 oz bottle)--I also think the container was designed to make it so annoying to get out the honey that one would be induced to simply throw it out and buy another bottle. Instead, I got a pair of scissors, cut up the bottle and put the honey into a shorter glass jar. I am not sure that Janet will approve. But, I figure since I needed the honey for medicinal purposes, she can't complain too much. Right?

By the way, hot water with lemon and honey doesn't taste very good. But, maybe I have the wrong ratios or something.

Faculty Show has been an interesting phenomenon--this is the fourth time I have been in it. Students clearly love the idea of their professors getting on stage and making fun of the college, students and themselves. Most faculty, however, refuse to participate. It is yet another sign that lots of faculty take themselves way too seriously.

In other news, my NCAA bracket is still alive as of this morning--if Baylor wins out, I come in first place. I have never watched a college basketball game in my life, by the way, and I pay absolutely no attention to basketball at either the professional or collegiate level. So, it is with a great deal of amusement that I contemplate the prospects of winning in a league full of people who actually care about this sport.

Basketball is marginally better than soccer, though. Both games are terribly dull, but if you are going to watch a silly game, it might as well be one where the two teams combined score 200 points than one where the two teams each try to be so boring that other team falls asleep and a point can be scored.

I miss football.

At least baseball season starts next week. Something to fill the time until football season starts.

My fantasy baseball draft is Saturday--fortunately faculty show is done, so I have time to figure out if there are any good shortstops who will be available in the 15th round of the draft. If anyone has a tip on sleepers at any position, I am, of course, quite interested. After narrowly losing in the championship game last year, I am determined to win this year.

Then again, I am determined to win every year. When it comes to games, I am terribly competitive. I know, for example, that good parents are supposed to let their small children beat them at mindless games like CandyLand, but I never once let them win--I always just played by the rules, so of course they won half the time (in case you didn't know--CandyLand is purely a game of luck; there is absolutely no skill required to play since you never actually have to make a choice--why didn't I figure that out when I was 4?), but I never rearranged the cards to make sure my kids won.

I've liked competitive games since I was very young. Once when I was about 8 or 9, I saw a book of games at one of those cheap discount knock-off stores entitled (the book, not the store) Beyond Competition. I was very excited--something beyond competition--what could be better than something even more competitive than competitive? So, I bought it. When I got home and stared reading the rules of the games, I was puzzled--it wasn't clear how anyone could win. I kept rereading the rules and it just didn't make sense. Then it dawned on me--"beyond competition" meant "cooperative"--in these "games" everyone was working together for a common goal. I don't think I have ever been as disappointed with a purchase in my life. I could not figure out who would design games in which the goal wasn't to win. Now that I am older I know it was undoubtedly some hippies, and even worse--it was hippies who took money away from little kids on false pretenses.