I’ve lived in Cleveland my whole life, which means I root for the Cleveland Browns. This is unfortunate, because the last time the Browns did anything good, I was three years old and really into Winnie the Pooh.

So why root for the Browns? Nobody comes to the door on Sundays to check if you’re cheering. This is America, and you’re allowed to turn the TV off or even root for a team that occasionally wins. After watching another horrific Browns loss on Sunday, I started thinking about why I even care about this team. And then I thought about my own football career.

My football career was both long and illustrious. (Illustrious means “tried hard,” right?) Every week during junior high and high school, sometimes two or three times a week, my brother Jesse and I would take on my neighbors Eric and Ryan in a game of two-on-two street football.

I now know that if I lived on a street where kids played this version of football, I would shoot them. That’s because, despite our street being 7 yards wide and filled with parked cars, we insisted on punting the ball every kickoff. And when an unathletic adolescent tries to punt a football down the street, there is a .1% chance of the ball landing in the arms of the returner and a 200% chance of it falling straight onto the hood of a car, pointy side down.

In between checking our neighbors’ cars for dents, we would play football for hours. We didn’t keep good stats during those years, but I would estimate mine and Jesse’s record over that time to be 0-126. Continue reading →

A few months after we got married, Deserae and I took a weekend trip to New York City. When we reached our destination, I got a much more intense welcome to the city than I had bargained for.

“YES!” I shouted as we neared the Lincoln Tunnel.

Deserae rolled her eyes.

Not to brag, but I am AMAZING at holding my breath. I don’t get opportunities to showcase this skill very often, so I hold my breath every time we drive through a tunnel to impress my wife. After four months of marriage, Deserae was tragically already losing interest in this trick.

I took three deep breaths, timing my last one perfectly as we entered the Lincoln Tunnel. I puffed out my cheeks and wiggled my eyebrows at Deserae.

I’ve discovered the secret to holding one’s breath for a long time is to relax. Don’t think about anything—just reach the state you get into right before you fall asleep and float there.

While floating in the Lincoln Tunnel, I noticed two things:

1. I’d have to hold my breath for 30 minutes to make it through the tunnel with this traffic.
2. A rumbling had begun deep down in my bowels.

Continue reading →

You may recall that I recently got tickets to last week’s Cleveland Cavaliers home opener, the “hardest-to-find Cleveland ticket since the last good sports thing happened here 20 years ago.” Well the game was last Thursday, and it went exactly like you’d expect if you’ve lived in Cleveland any time during the last 20 years: A full day of hype, followed by ten minutes of hope, followed by an evening of crushing despair.

But it’s OK, because the day was never about the game itself. It was all about…well I was there, and I’m still not sure, but it was about SOMETHING. A lot of something. Here’s what I’ll remember about the night.

Miles of sweaty bodies

Deserae and I went to the Winking Lizard downtown for dinner at 4. We got a table at 4:15, and by 4:30, the aisles were clogged with so many people that the only way to go to the bathroom was to crowdsurf there. Outside, the streets were packed with more people than live in the city of Cleveland. People were hanging outside of apartment windows and peering out of parking garages. Nobody was quite sure what they were looking for, but at least they were smiling. Continue reading →

Have you ever had a nemesis? I have. I’ve had many nemeses.

Almost all of my nemeses (it is “nemeses,” I looked it up, don’t bother) came during college. You know the kid who would sit in front of every lecture and makes dumb jokes to the professor and asks stupid questions and occasionally look around the classroom with his big, punchable smile? He was my nemesis.

I don’t think any of my nemeses ever knew they were my nemeses. They didn’t even know my name because I never actually confronted one. I just sat there and glared and stewed.

That all changed the day I met Vincent. Continue reading →

I don’t like to brag, but over the past few years, I’ve become reeeeeeealllllllly good at the following skills:

• Keeping 100% up-to-date on my entire Twitter feed at all times
• Avoiding quiet moments by whipping out my phone anytime one threatens to sneak up
• Collecting enough coins in Madden 14 Mobile to buy Brian Hoyer, which takes much, MUCH longer than it should
• Ignoring my wife while honing the aforementioned skills

Last month, while I was deeply involved in the last skill, Deserae scooted over to me.

“Hey, I thought this was cool,” she said. She showed me an article where this guy deleted everything on his iPhone because it was keeping him from enjoying his life. He called it “The Distraction-Free iPhone” and said it was the best decision he ever made.

“Huh, cool,” I said. Then I refreshed Twitter again. Continue reading →

Deserae and I win a LOT of stuff.

As I have discussed before, most people find this insufferable. But when they’re done rolling their eyes and saying angry things I hope they don’t mean, everyone always comes back with the same question:

“How are you so lucky?”

My response: #blessed.

I say this because I know it’s what I’m supposed to say, not because it’s how I actually feel. Deep down, I’ve always been convinced that I’m lucky with these things because I make my own luck. Like, if you enter more, you’re probably going to win more, ya know?

However, even I know that saying “I make my own luck!” makes me sound like the worst person in the world. So I’ve kept saying what I say and believing while winning what I win.

That all changed last Monday when I won the first Cavs ticket lottery of the season. Continue reading →

 
I spent last Tuesday scribbling parenting notes. I wasn’t attending a parenting seminar or being mentored or even sitting near a single child.

I was at a public hearing.

I believe that moderating a public hearing about an unpopular decision has to be exactly like parenting a teenager. I guess I can’t say for sure because I have never done either, but it seems like, whenever they get angry, the public and teenagers do the same four things:

1. YELL
2. Issue slanderous statements against authority
3. Make bad analogies
4. Bring up the Bill of Rights

I know this because I was both a teenager and a reporter for the Sun News (not at the same time, but close). As a reporter, I got to witness many public hearings and City Council meetings. Those meetings were the best part of any job I’ve ever had.

City Council meetings are amazing because they provide a rare opportunity for any citizen to go straight to the government and tell the government to STICK IT. The people who take advantage of this opportunity on a bi-weekly basis are usually old, cranky or insane. Most are all three. Continue reading →

Last week, an old friend of mine passed away. I haven’t been asked yet to give a eulogy at the funeral, but I thought I’d write one up, just to help me work through some emotions.

We’re gathered here today to honor the memory of 1GCDL19W5TB552866, a 1993 Ford Tempo affectionately named “The Red Rocket.”

The Red Rocket wasn’t the fastest car on the road. Or the fanciest. Or the most reliable. She was labeled by many a “Roller Skate,” “Death Trap” and “Ugliest Car I’ve Ever Seen.” But she was my first, and I loved her dearly.

Rather than complain about her habits of breaking down and leaking oil like some in this room seem to enjoy doing [pauses and glares at guilty parties], I’d like to take a few minutes to remember some of the Red Rocket’s best qualities. Continue reading →

As a human race, we have a lot of disagreements. However, I think there are two things that everyone on earth, regardless of race, religion, politics and wealth, can agree upon:

1. No one needed a fourth Indiana Jones movie
2. Magic is the best thing ever

I believe that if you’re good at magic, you’ll never have an enemy again. Just imagine if the President of the United States could do magic. During the State of the Union Address, he’d be talking about his policy, and the camera would pan around to Senators being crabby like normal. But then at the end, he pulls out a deck of cards and tells the Speaker of the House to imagine a card and pull it out. The Speaker imagines his card, but can’t find it in the deck. Where is it? He’s on national TV, and he’s getting a little flustered. Finally, the President saves him by pointing to the American flag behind him. What’s that? The Speaker unfurls the flag to find the stars arranged to form the very card he was imagining: the ace of spades. The place erupts, the President is a hero, and the next day, everyone signs up for Obamacare.

I’m not the President, but I do teach second grade boys Sunday School and lead Junior Church once a month. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that there’s no faster way to get kids on your side than to say the words, “I’ve got a magic trick.” So for the past two years or so, I’ve ended my Junior Church message with some sort of magic trick illustration.

There’s only one problem with that: I am terrible at magic. Continue reading →