I thought since I hadn't written anything in a long time that today I would share my second most embarrassing story.
It was early May 1999, finals week at CMSU. I had just finished taking all of my finals and needed to sell my books back to the campus bookstore. It was unseasonably warm that day and I was a bit parched, so I bought a large lemonade to drink while waiting in line at the bookstore - big mistake. I misjudged the amount of time I'd be in line at the bookstore and about 20 minutes after drinking the lemonade, I needed to use the restroom badly. There were still at least 10 people ahead of me in line and the line was moving slowly. So I tried not to think about going to the restroom and just focused on other things. Well, I finally made it to the cashier, sold my books back and then immediately walked briskly to the nearest restroom.
Now I had been in college at CMSU for 3 years, I worked on campus, and since I grew up in Warrensburg I had been on the campus many times for school events, etc., so I thought I knew the layout of the public restrooms on campus. Most (I say most now, but at the time I thought it was all) restrooms on campus had the men's restroom on the right, and the women's on the left. So as I quickly made my way from the campus bookstore to the nearest restrooms, I went in the door on the right, not taking the time to look at the sign on the outside of the door. As I entered the restroom, I looked around frantically for the urinals, but I only saw rows of stalls (this should have been my first clue that I was in the wrong restroom). I thought maybe this was just an exceptionally large men's restroom and the urinals were around the corner, so I went to the nearest stall. As I'm standing in the stall, beginning to feel much better, I also notice that it smells unusually pleasant in this restroom compared to typical men's restrooms (the second clue that I had made a mistake). As I was thinking about the pleasant scent and the lack of urinals, I then realized that I was using the women's restroom. Luckily I was the only one in the restroom at the time, so I thought that if I just hurried and got out of there nobody but me would ever know about this mistake.
About the time that I realized the mistake I had made I heard the restroom door open and close, which meant I was no longer alone, and it was most likely a female (because what college-aged guy would go into a women's restroom). I stopped my flow mid-stream and turned around in the stall to face the door. I did this for two reasons: 1) so the girl who just came into the restroom wouldn't hear me using the restroom and realize that it was a guy, and 2) so if this girl saw my feet pointed towards the stall door instead of the toilet she wouldn't think someone was standing up in the stall using the restroom. At most she'd think that it was just a female athlete (because of the larger than average shoes in the stall). I then hoped that this girl didn't come to use the restroom because I wasn't sure I could hold it much longer, as you all know stopping mid-stream is rather difficult and I don't have the Kegel strength of females. I also didn't want to get caught in there and have people think I was some weirdo who likes to go into public restrooms and listen to women use the restroom, because I'm sure that's a hard thing to not have follow you for the rest of your life. Luckily for me the girl had just come in to wash her hands and check herself in the mirror. It seemed to take her quite a long time at the mirror, because I was starting to sweat profusely from holding the rest of the lemonade in. I stood there, staring at the stall door, just trying to not make a sound (I realized after this ordeal that I could've just sat down and finished and it would've sounded like a female, but I panicked and wasn't thinking clearly). Finally I heard the girl leave, so I turned around, finished, flushed and went to the door (I made the conscious decision to forego washing my hands, as to not tempt fate by spending more time than absolutely necessary in there). I thought I was in the clear; however, just as I was walking to the door, the door opened up I run right into a girl who is coming into the restroom. Now just imagine what this girl is thinking: she has just bumped into a red-faced, sweaty guy coming out of the women's restroom, and I'm sure she heard the toilet flushing in the background. I didn't know what to do. The best thing I could come up was this; I said "Don't worry, I work here." and walked off. I guess I was hoping she thought that a student employee had to go in and check on something, who knows.
Since that experience I've always checked the sign on the restroom before entering.
Song of the day: "You Can Call Me Al (DJ Rebel's Radio Mix)" by DJ Rebel & FTW. I'm a big Paul Simon fan (Graceland is one of the 3 albums I would take with me on a deserted island, should I have the resources on the island to play music) and I've been looking for a way to put some Paul Simon into a mix, but was having a hard time making it sound smooth. Viola - I was driving home from work late one night a few weeks ago and heard this song on the radio. I found it on the internet and now I'm set. BTW, if anyone is going to be in the KC Metro area the weekend of July 4th, let me know. I'm DJ'ing a house party on the Plaza that Saturday night and if everything comes together as planned it has the potential to be a really good night. More details to come.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Thursday, March 25, 2010
It is with the utmost pride & sincerity . . .
that I introduce the newest member of the Howard family - Alexa Justine.
4 strong now = unstoppable.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Difficult takes a day, impossible takes a week
I realize I've really been neglecting my blog here in 2010. I really don't have time for a theme or a witty anecdote this time; just some random updates to share:
- I've lost 21 pounds so far since January 11. They started a Biggest Loser contest here at work for the IT department, so I signed up because I thought it would be extra motivation for me to drop some weight before my brother's wedding (where I'm the best man, and I don't want to be the chubby old guy up there in the wedding party). I thought the other IT contestants would've given up by now, but I'm only in 4th place with a total weight loss of 10.29% (if you're decent at math then you should be able to figure out my starting weight). The winner gets $610 - every participant paid in $10 and there are 61 participants, with winner take all. The contest goes until mid April. I probably won't win, but I'm happy with how I look so I guess that's something. If I keep my current fitness level up it could turn into a McConaughey summer at case de Howard (a McConaughey summer being that one only wears a shirt when required).
- I recently got another tattoo, so if it does turn into a McConaughey summer then I've got something new to show off. It's the letters AJ on my right ribcage - I'll post a pic for all to see.
- I've lost 21 pounds so far since January 11. They started a Biggest Loser contest here at work for the IT department, so I signed up because I thought it would be extra motivation for me to drop some weight before my brother's wedding (where I'm the best man, and I don't want to be the chubby old guy up there in the wedding party). I thought the other IT contestants would've given up by now, but I'm only in 4th place with a total weight loss of 10.29% (if you're decent at math then you should be able to figure out my starting weight). The winner gets $610 - every participant paid in $10 and there are 61 participants, with winner take all. The contest goes until mid April. I probably won't win, but I'm happy with how I look so I guess that's something. If I keep my current fitness level up it could turn into a McConaughey summer at case de Howard (a McConaughey summer being that one only wears a shirt when required).
- I recently got another tattoo, so if it does turn into a McConaughey summer then I've got something new to show off. It's the letters AJ on my right ribcage - I'll post a pic for all to see.
Chet at Mercy Seat Tattoo is awesome; he's done both of my tattoos and I highly recommend him. He listens to your ideas and works with you on a design that is unique, and his shop is clean and he takes pride in his work. What more could you ask for in your tattoo guy?
- I've been helping the KCPD Crime Lab with migrating data from their old software system to a new software system. It's been very trying because they are on a tight timeframe (the goal is to be online with the new system by the end of March) . The previous "DBA" had 18 months to accomplish the data migration, and the crimelab realized in mid February when they attempted to do a test data load that it failed because the old data was either not migrated correctly, or it wasn't migrated at all. So I volunteered my services to assist. I didn't get 18 months though to work on it- I got 3 weeks. That's right, 3 weeks, or 3.8% of the time the first guy had. And that's 3 weeks of after-hours work and on the weekends, not during the day like the previous "DBA" had. I'll say this and then I'll stop complaining about it: there is something to be said for relational data integrity and constraints. Without those, your data is just a warm pile of sh#t.
Song of the day: "Triumph" by the Wu-Tang Clan. I've been going back to the archives and listening to some of the older stuff I have. A rap song that is over 5 minutes long and doesn't have a chorus, bridge or break - just each member spittin a verse.
- I've been helping the KCPD Crime Lab with migrating data from their old software system to a new software system. It's been very trying because they are on a tight timeframe (the goal is to be online with the new system by the end of March) . The previous "DBA" had 18 months to accomplish the data migration, and the crimelab realized in mid February when they attempted to do a test data load that it failed because the old data was either not migrated correctly, or it wasn't migrated at all. So I volunteered my services to assist. I didn't get 18 months though to work on it- I got 3 weeks. That's right, 3 weeks, or 3.8% of the time the first guy had. And that's 3 weeks of after-hours work and on the weekends, not during the day like the previous "DBA" had. I'll say this and then I'll stop complaining about it: there is something to be said for relational data integrity and constraints. Without those, your data is just a warm pile of sh#t.
Song of the day: "Triumph" by the Wu-Tang Clan. I've been going back to the archives and listening to some of the older stuff I have. A rap song that is over 5 minutes long and doesn't have a chorus, bridge or break - just each member spittin a verse.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Jump out the pool on that!
I recently went on a quick two-day trip to southern Georgia to attend my brother's graduation ceremony at FLETC. I don't know if I'm really supposed to be announcing this (but I will anyway because I'm a proud brother and wanted to let people know): my brother is now a deputy U.S. Marshal assigned to the state of Texas. It's a pretty cool job if you're into the law enforcement thing; the U.S. Marshals Service is a very proud organization and they take good care of their agents. My brother is really excited about it, as he will be involved with a lot more "action" as a U.S. Marshal than he was with his previous agency (OIG), where he investigated mostly white-collar crime. It's odd for me to imagine that someone would voluntarily seek out and actively pursue a more dangerous job, but people are wired differently. I would've been content with getting to carry a gun everywhere but still working with spreadsheets and computers all day as an OIG Agent, but I guess that's why I'm a DBA for a bank and not out chasing fugitives.
A couple of random things that came across my mind while on the trip:
1) A bad day for me typically entails that a SQL Server is having issues or something is not going well with a project I'm working on. As I looked at the graduating class of deputy U.S. Marshals during the ceremony, I realized that a bad day for these graduates could involve shooting someone and/or being shot at. That is crazy to me.
2) As an older sibling, I wondered at what point in my life was my little brother able to kick my @$$ if he chose to do so. Maybe this is something only older brothers think about, I don't know. I guess it would've been when he was late in his college career as he was training to meet the physical requirements for his federal agency/law enforcement exams. I'm sure if you asked him it would've been much earlier than this, but realistically I think I could have at least held my own up until then. Now it's quite obvious that I can't mouth off to him like I used to.
3) It's weird to see my little brother as an adult who has an adult job and is getting married this summer. I've always seen him as someone I needed to look after and take care of, but those days are long past. He's doing a good job of taking care of himself, and has actually helped me out with a couple of things.
Song of the day: "On To The Next One" by Jay-Z, from the Blueprint 3 album. It seems appropriate, as my brother is moving on to the next one.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Please stop the bus to let my brother Jack off
There hasn’t been a lot going on lately with me, so I haven’t had much to write about. The Haunted House DJ gig went pretty well. People who were listening to the music seemed to be enjoying themselves. The high school dance/step troupe wanted to perform the “Thriller dance” every 30 minutes for the crowd, so that provided an opportunity to play around mixing in and out of that Michael Jackson song on the fly. I was heckled a bit; not by the kids, but by Jennifer and Jack. They would yell out random songs (mostly Ghostbusters) that they wanted to hear, and would boo if the next song wasn’t their request. It was all in jest though and we all had a good time.
I did recently donate blood at a blood drive at my work, and had somewhat of an interesting experience. I’ve given blood before and am not afraid to do so. I’m not bragging or anything; I give because 1) I’m sure I’ll end up in the hospital some day and will need someone else’s blood. 2) in the big scheme of things I’m hoping that doing something nice for strangers will make up for all of the times I’m mean and insensitive to strangers, and 3) I think the world will be a much better place if more people had some William Howard blood pumping through them.
As you probably know, before you donate they have you answer a myriad of questions regarding your medical history, your international travel history, and your sexual history. Two of my answers on my questionnaire required the technician to ask me additional questions and delve deeper into my past than usual: I had traveled outside of the U.S within the past 3 years (Australia), and had gotten a tattoo within the timeframe listed on the questionnaire. They had to look on a world map to see if Australia was considered a “safe place” (it was, and just by looking at the map, it looked like it was mostly Africa that was “unsafe”), and they had to write down the name of the tattoo shop I visited. That was kind of fun because to that technician I seemed a lot cooler than I really am.
One question I found odd on the questionnaire was this one, which was under the HIV/AIDS portion: “Have you been in juvenile detention, lockup, jail, or prison for more than 72 hours?” Really?! So I guess they think that if you spend longer than 3 days locked up in a correctional facility . . . something’s going to happen and you’re going to get some action. That should serve as a reminder to never get in trouble with the law on the Friday night of a 3 day/holiday weekend, because by Tuesday you could come out of lockup with a whole new set of problems.
Song/Album of the day: Girl Talk’s “Feed the Animals” album. Girl Talk is somewhat of an oddity to me, and I’m having a hard time fully committing to it. I read an article about him in GQ (article) and didn’t think much of it until Jennifer asked me if I had listened to his album (she read the article as well). I downloaded the album (album here). As I’ve said before, I’m a fan of mash-ups but this is sometimes almost too much, even for me. It’s really impressive that he did all of that with just a laptop, and he used a lot of well-known random songs that I like. It is very professionally done (he changed what key certain songs are in so they’ll blend well with the other songs and the timing is impeccable). If you get a chance, download it, listen to it and let me know what you think. The first time I listened to it I couldn’t get past trying to identify all of the samples being used. So if you’re like me and need a cheat sheet of all of the samples being used for each track – find it here.
I did recently donate blood at a blood drive at my work, and had somewhat of an interesting experience. I’ve given blood before and am not afraid to do so. I’m not bragging or anything; I give because 1) I’m sure I’ll end up in the hospital some day and will need someone else’s blood. 2) in the big scheme of things I’m hoping that doing something nice for strangers will make up for all of the times I’m mean and insensitive to strangers, and 3) I think the world will be a much better place if more people had some William Howard blood pumping through them.
As you probably know, before you donate they have you answer a myriad of questions regarding your medical history, your international travel history, and your sexual history. Two of my answers on my questionnaire required the technician to ask me additional questions and delve deeper into my past than usual: I had traveled outside of the U.S within the past 3 years (Australia), and had gotten a tattoo within the timeframe listed on the questionnaire. They had to look on a world map to see if Australia was considered a “safe place” (it was, and just by looking at the map, it looked like it was mostly Africa that was “unsafe”), and they had to write down the name of the tattoo shop I visited. That was kind of fun because to that technician I seemed a lot cooler than I really am.
One question I found odd on the questionnaire was this one, which was under the HIV/AIDS portion: “Have you been in juvenile detention, lockup, jail, or prison for more than 72 hours?” Really?! So I guess they think that if you spend longer than 3 days locked up in a correctional facility . . . something’s going to happen and you’re going to get some action. That should serve as a reminder to never get in trouble with the law on the Friday night of a 3 day/holiday weekend, because by Tuesday you could come out of lockup with a whole new set of problems.
Song/Album of the day: Girl Talk’s “Feed the Animals” album. Girl Talk is somewhat of an oddity to me, and I’m having a hard time fully committing to it. I read an article about him in GQ (article) and didn’t think much of it until Jennifer asked me if I had listened to his album (she read the article as well). I downloaded the album (album here). As I’ve said before, I’m a fan of mash-ups but this is sometimes almost too much, even for me. It’s really impressive that he did all of that with just a laptop, and he used a lot of well-known random songs that I like. It is very professionally done (he changed what key certain songs are in so they’ll blend well with the other songs and the timing is impeccable). If you get a chance, download it, listen to it and let me know what you think. The first time I listened to it I couldn’t get past trying to identify all of the samples being used. So if you’re like me and need a cheat sheet of all of the samples being used for each track – find it here.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Now here's a little story I've got to tell . . .
I don't keep in touch with very many of the friends I had when I was growing up. Of those childhood friends, there are maybe five people that I keep in touch with that I've put forth the effort to transition those friendships into adult friendships. I had the opportunity to hang out with two of these adult friends over the Thanksgiving holiday, so I thought I'd share something that occurred while we were hanging out.
It's a good thing that Leia was the doctor there at the bar on Friday instead of me, because If I had been the doctor then the situation would've been totally different. I'm sure I would've stood up, chest puffed out, and said something cheesy like, "No need to fear ma'am, I'm a doctor" while winking to the lady and then rushing over to the old man, all the while dramatic instrumental music would be playing (it would be very ER-esque, with me looking like George Clooney\Dr. Doug Ross circa 1998). I probably would've tried to score free drinks from the bar for the rest of the night, because after all, I did single-handedly save this man's life.
In all seriousness, it was a little weird to think that at any time my friend could be called upon to save a stranger's life. I'm pretty sure that there will never be a situation where I'm out socially and someone will say, "Is there a DBA here? We have deadlocking on a OLTP server and need assistance STAT" (I threw in the STAT part for effect). It just won't happen. I guess that's the responsibility that comes with those types of professions (medical doctors, law enforcement officials, etc.); always being "on call." Scary.
Anyway, I just wanted to say that I am very proud of my friend, and it was cool to see her do her thing in person. It's just too bad that the old man's airway wasn't blocked; maybe I could've seen Leia stab an ink pen in the old man's throat so he could breathe (how cool would that have been?!). Oh well, there's always the next time we hang out.
The two friends are siblings (twins actually); one is a kindergarten teacher at a public elementary school in Warrensburg, and the other a medical doctor who practices internal medicine at a hospital in Dallas, TX. For the sake of not using real names we'll call the doctor friend Leia - that seems fitting. We met up on Friday night at a bar to have a few drinks and catch up with one another. We had only been there about 10 minutes when a random woman hurried over to us and frantically asked if we had any baby aspirin or any type of aspirin at all. Me being the @$$ that I am, my first thought was, "Well maybe if your baby has such a headache then he/she shouldn't be in a bar on a Friday night in the first place." (I'm kidding, and I could tell it wasn't the time to say this out loud). It seems that an elderly gentleman at the end of the bar was experiencing a "mini-stroke", or TIA (Transient Ischemic Attack for those wanting to know the official medical term). Leia went over very calmly and assessed the situation, evaluated the elderly gentleman's condition, spoke to his family and also spoke to the EMTs once they arrived and updated them on the situation and the old man's status. The elderly gentleman was taken to the hospital and our night progressed like nothing had happened. The old man's family was very thankful to Leia, and I could tell having a doctor there with the old man until the EMTs arrived really put the old man's family at ease.
I know I'm probably not supposed to say this, but I was a little excited when this situation presented itself, and here's why. I'd never seen Leia "be a doctor" in person. We grew up together and I have memories of her in high school and what not, but since she practices medicine in another state I've never gotten to see her do her thing as an adult. She's very humble when it comes to her profession - she doesn't talk about it much, and always works to downplay the fact that she's a doctor when she's around other people that she grew up with. Maybe she's just a private person, or maybe she doesn't want it to look like she's bragging that she's a supersmart doctor or something - I don't know. She's very nice and will answer any question about her job when asked, but she doesn't volunteer much information and she'll subtly steer the conversation to something else by asking someone else a question or by bringing up another topic.
It's a good thing that Leia was the doctor there at the bar on Friday instead of me, because If I had been the doctor then the situation would've been totally different. I'm sure I would've stood up, chest puffed out, and said something cheesy like, "No need to fear ma'am, I'm a doctor" while winking to the lady and then rushing over to the old man, all the while dramatic instrumental music would be playing (it would be very ER-esque, with me looking like George Clooney\Dr. Doug Ross circa 1998). I probably would've tried to score free drinks from the bar for the rest of the night, because after all, I did single-handedly save this man's life.
In all seriousness, it was a little weird to think that at any time my friend could be called upon to save a stranger's life. I'm pretty sure that there will never be a situation where I'm out socially and someone will say, "Is there a DBA here? We have deadlocking on a OLTP server and need assistance STAT" (I threw in the STAT part for effect). It just won't happen. I guess that's the responsibility that comes with those types of professions (medical doctors, law enforcement officials, etc.); always being "on call." Scary.
Anyway, I just wanted to say that I am very proud of my friend, and it was cool to see her do her thing in person. It's just too bad that the old man's airway wasn't blocked; maybe I could've seen Leia stab an ink pen in the old man's throat so he could breathe (how cool would that have been?!). Oh well, there's always the next time we hang out.
Song of the day: "Am I Wrong" by Love Spit Love. It's on the Angus soundtrack, and it's a good "hangin out" song.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
You can check out anytime you like, but you can never leave
I’m sure everyone has a memory or situation that he/she uses as a “baseline” for their worst experience that helps to put the current situation in perspective. When something isn’t going well, you might say, “This is bad, but this isn’t as bad as the time _______.” In my life I’ve experienced a couple of things you’d think could be used as my baseline: a kidney stone that was too large to pass so it had to be removed via “a laser” (picture an Austin Powers Dr. Evil impersonation while reading the word “laser”) blowing it up into smaller, passable pieces; or maybe running the last 15 miles of the KC marathon after hurting my knee on mile 11 and eventually requiring knee surgery after the marathon. Surprisingly, neither of these things compare to what I use as my baseline/rock bottom. For me it’s the week in 1995 that I spent at Boys State. I can say that I no longer fear hell and can live through anything because I survived Boys State.
For those who don’t know, Boys State is a week long summer camp sponsored by the American Legion for boys between their junior and senior years. It is supposed to be an honor to attend, and it’s considered a leadership-type mock government camp for the “future of tomorrow”. Don’t be fooled by any of this propaganda. Make no mistake, you do learn things from attending Boys State, but it’s not leadership. Now don’t’ get me wrong, nothing horrible such as inappropriate fondling or anything like that happened (at least not to me) – my anguish was more of the mental variety. Anyway, let me share my Boys State experience with you:
Missouri Boys State is held at UCM’s (formerly CMSU) campus in June of each year. It brings together approximately 800 17 year-old boys for one week and subjects them to classroom lectures on politics, government, etc. You stay in the dorms on campus and have a roommate, and also a couple of older college-age guys on each floor who serve as the floor RA’s. There are a couple of rules that all Boys State attendees must follow: you aren’t allowed to leave campus and contact with females is strictly prohibited during the entire week. They were adamant about this last rule; if they saw you even talking to a girl, disciplinary action was taken. Seriously?! Whose bright idea was it to put 800 17 year-old boys together in a confined space for a week and prohibit female contact? After the 2nd day of being around all of these guys who weren’t allowed female interaction, it felt like at any point in time it could easily turn into a “Lord of the Flies” type of environment. I especially had issues with the “no female contact” rule because since I was a local (being from Warrensburg), I knew a lot of the high-school girls who were working in the cafeteria serving meals or working other part-time summer jobs on campus. I didn’t want to be rude so I’d give the “what’s up” nod to all of them and I got in trouble for even doing that; it was considered non-verbal communication with a female. Ridiculous. I ended up breaking both rules because by mid-week I couldn’t take the boring lectures anymore so I would leave the lectures and go to the college library and sit and read books and magazines for hours during the afternoon. There were 800 guys there and the only other Warrensburg townie in my “city” (that’s what your dorm floor was called) was really into the whole Boys State thing and he was having a great time, so I wasn’t missed by anyone. One day while I was at the library I saw a female friend from high school and I talked to her for a while (just to make sure I could still talk to a female and I hadn’t resorted to prehistoric grunting) and she said she was going to Wal-Mart, so I asked if I could tag along with her. I’d never been so happy to visit a Wal-Mart.
I know Boys State may not sound like the horrible situation that I make it out to be. Please bear with me; here are a few more of the reasons why my experience was so bad:
1) None of my friends went. There were a few other guys from Warrensburg that went, but I wasn’t really close to them. The one other Warrensburg townie in my Boys State “city” was really into it, probably because his father was a politician for the state of Missouri, and since I thought the whole “city” and mock government thing was dumb we didn’t really hang out that week. I try not to be a negative, condescending person, but come on. Having fake policemen, fake judges, fake mayors, etc. and having to play along with all of it (as a high school student, not a 6 year-old) – it’s stupid.
2) My roommate was really into it as well, and that was really annoying. He was running for city mayor or something equally as dumb, so he tried to get me to campaign for him. I just looked at him and asked, “You realize this is all fake and means nothing out in the real world, right?” He asked another guy in our city to help him out and we left each other alone the rest of the week.
3) It was 8 days long - Saturday to Saturday. That’s too much time to be at a fun summer camp, much less a crappy one. That’s a whole week of your summer, just gone; wasted.
4) They tried to make it quasi-military and that got old really quick. We had to walk in a single-file line when our “city” went somewhere (lectures, meals, etc.), we couldn’t talk while we were walking to and from the dorms, etc. Lights out was early and you had to be quiet once this occurred each night.
5) There was never any free time. Everything was scheduled, and most of the scheduled events/lectures were extremely boring.
6) I seemed to be the only person that thought that all of the mock/fake government was dumb and didn’t buy into it. At one point I actually found myself questioning myself for a second, thinking, “maybe something is wrong with me – everyone else seems to be enjoying themselves for the most part.” But then I realized that I was letting Boys State get to me and I needed to snap out of it. There’s nothing wrong with me; the rest of these guys are just average, 17 year-old guys who will end up selling insurance, used cars or becoming real estate agents in their hometowns. That’s right, I said it.
You may be asking yourself, “Why did you go (or stay) then if it was so bad?” I went and stayed for 2 reasons: Boys State attendees got a $1000 scholarship to CMSU your freshman year, and my parents were proud that I was chosen to go so I went because I was a good kid and I worked hard to always be known as “the good kid.”
To wrap up this blog posting, I’ll say this: No normal, intelligent, heterosexual 17 year-old boy with a sense of perspective should enjoy Boys State. I know that’s a bold statement, but I stand by it. Boys State did ultimately prepare me for the future by showing me that I can tolerate almost anything. I do feel like I earned every dollar of that $1000 scholarship.
Song of the day: Coldpay’s “Glass of Water” from their Proskpekt’s March album. (“You know how I know you’re gay? You like Coldplay.”) Chris Martin is a good musician. I know I’m going to seem like “one of those guys” by saying I like Coldplay, but I do.
For those who don’t know, Boys State is a week long summer camp sponsored by the American Legion for boys between their junior and senior years. It is supposed to be an honor to attend, and it’s considered a leadership-type mock government camp for the “future of tomorrow”. Don’t be fooled by any of this propaganda. Make no mistake, you do learn things from attending Boys State, but it’s not leadership. Now don’t’ get me wrong, nothing horrible such as inappropriate fondling or anything like that happened (at least not to me) – my anguish was more of the mental variety. Anyway, let me share my Boys State experience with you:
Missouri Boys State is held at UCM’s (formerly CMSU) campus in June of each year. It brings together approximately 800 17 year-old boys for one week and subjects them to classroom lectures on politics, government, etc. You stay in the dorms on campus and have a roommate, and also a couple of older college-age guys on each floor who serve as the floor RA’s. There are a couple of rules that all Boys State attendees must follow: you aren’t allowed to leave campus and contact with females is strictly prohibited during the entire week. They were adamant about this last rule; if they saw you even talking to a girl, disciplinary action was taken. Seriously?! Whose bright idea was it to put 800 17 year-old boys together in a confined space for a week and prohibit female contact? After the 2nd day of being around all of these guys who weren’t allowed female interaction, it felt like at any point in time it could easily turn into a “Lord of the Flies” type of environment. I especially had issues with the “no female contact” rule because since I was a local (being from Warrensburg), I knew a lot of the high-school girls who were working in the cafeteria serving meals or working other part-time summer jobs on campus. I didn’t want to be rude so I’d give the “what’s up” nod to all of them and I got in trouble for even doing that; it was considered non-verbal communication with a female. Ridiculous. I ended up breaking both rules because by mid-week I couldn’t take the boring lectures anymore so I would leave the lectures and go to the college library and sit and read books and magazines for hours during the afternoon. There were 800 guys there and the only other Warrensburg townie in my “city” (that’s what your dorm floor was called) was really into the whole Boys State thing and he was having a great time, so I wasn’t missed by anyone. One day while I was at the library I saw a female friend from high school and I talked to her for a while (just to make sure I could still talk to a female and I hadn’t resorted to prehistoric grunting) and she said she was going to Wal-Mart, so I asked if I could tag along with her. I’d never been so happy to visit a Wal-Mart.
I know Boys State may not sound like the horrible situation that I make it out to be. Please bear with me; here are a few more of the reasons why my experience was so bad:
1) None of my friends went. There were a few other guys from Warrensburg that went, but I wasn’t really close to them. The one other Warrensburg townie in my Boys State “city” was really into it, probably because his father was a politician for the state of Missouri, and since I thought the whole “city” and mock government thing was dumb we didn’t really hang out that week. I try not to be a negative, condescending person, but come on. Having fake policemen, fake judges, fake mayors, etc. and having to play along with all of it (as a high school student, not a 6 year-old) – it’s stupid.
2) My roommate was really into it as well, and that was really annoying. He was running for city mayor or something equally as dumb, so he tried to get me to campaign for him. I just looked at him and asked, “You realize this is all fake and means nothing out in the real world, right?” He asked another guy in our city to help him out and we left each other alone the rest of the week.
3) It was 8 days long - Saturday to Saturday. That’s too much time to be at a fun summer camp, much less a crappy one. That’s a whole week of your summer, just gone; wasted.
4) They tried to make it quasi-military and that got old really quick. We had to walk in a single-file line when our “city” went somewhere (lectures, meals, etc.), we couldn’t talk while we were walking to and from the dorms, etc. Lights out was early and you had to be quiet once this occurred each night.
5) There was never any free time. Everything was scheduled, and most of the scheduled events/lectures were extremely boring.
6) I seemed to be the only person that thought that all of the mock/fake government was dumb and didn’t buy into it. At one point I actually found myself questioning myself for a second, thinking, “maybe something is wrong with me – everyone else seems to be enjoying themselves for the most part.” But then I realized that I was letting Boys State get to me and I needed to snap out of it. There’s nothing wrong with me; the rest of these guys are just average, 17 year-old guys who will end up selling insurance, used cars or becoming real estate agents in their hometowns. That’s right, I said it.
You may be asking yourself, “Why did you go (or stay) then if it was so bad?” I went and stayed for 2 reasons: Boys State attendees got a $1000 scholarship to CMSU your freshman year, and my parents were proud that I was chosen to go so I went because I was a good kid and I worked hard to always be known as “the good kid.”
To wrap up this blog posting, I’ll say this: No normal, intelligent, heterosexual 17 year-old boy with a sense of perspective should enjoy Boys State. I know that’s a bold statement, but I stand by it. Boys State did ultimately prepare me for the future by showing me that I can tolerate almost anything. I do feel like I earned every dollar of that $1000 scholarship.
Song of the day: Coldpay’s “Glass of Water” from their Proskpekt’s March album. (“You know how I know you’re gay? You like Coldplay.”) Chris Martin is a good musician. I know I’m going to seem like “one of those guys” by saying I like Coldplay, but I do.
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