Considering all the work I did to get the perfect ring, I figured that I would need to make the proposal extra special – or at the very least a surprise. Now, if this were about me, I’d have gone NASCAR-themed all the way. But since it wasn’t, I wanted to do something Nadia would enjoy. I started kicking around ideas.

Nadia had to go to Missouri the weekend of July 31st. So, I tried to make an appointment to get the ring appraised while she was out of town. That way, I wouldn’t have to explain where I was going. But, the appraiser didn’t have any appointment until August 7th. I took it, figuring I’d come up with a story why I had to run an errand and she couldn’t come.

About 40 minutes later, he called me and said he had a last-minute cancellation and that he could fit me in on Saturday, July 31st. Knowing that everything was going to be complete with the ring, I started to think about when and where I wanted to propose.

One of my first ideas was to plan a trip to New York City. Nadia loves NYC, so I thought it would be a great place to propose. I considered several different ways to do it, but I didn’t really like any of them. Most, if not all, of the ideas I came up with were terribly clichéd: hansom cab ride with champagne, top of the Empire State Building, Top of the Rock, etc.

Out of the ideas, I liked the hansom cab ride the best, but Nadia would’ve suspected something if I suggested it. (Riding behind horses is not our usual pastime.) For a standard 20-minute ride, I couldn’t make a reservation. So, we would’ve had to walk up and wait. I’m good… but how would I have explained the champagne bottle? It was going to be hard enough to conceal the ring without a jacket.

To reserve a cab ride, we would’ve had to pay for a 41-minute tour. That’s almost as long as two episodes of Seinfeld. And, it was considerably more expensive. Plus, I’d be screwed if it rained, or if it was above 87 degrees because the carriages don’t operate when it is that hot.  If I was going to spend the extra money to reserve the cab, I would’ve insisted that we ride it rain or shine, which would have made Nadia suspicious. So that was out.

My next idea was to look into wineries because Nadia is always up for visiting them. But, which one? And, how would I suggest it in a way that wouldn’t seem suspicious? So I kept thinking about it.

Nadia’s mom was out of town, and wasn’t coming back until August 9th. I was picking her up from the airport that day, so I thought that it would be a good time to ask for her blessing. Talking to her before I proposed was important, so Saturday, August 14th was shaping up to be the best day to pop the question, even though I didn’t know where I was going to do it.

The appraisal went smoothly, and I was happy with it. With the ring complete, and insured, I now turned my attention to the location of the proposal.

I looked into Virginia wineries, but there were only a handful with which I was familiar, and none that Nadia has mentioned as places she wanted to go. Matter of fact, there’s only one winery she has mentioned wanting to visit a few times: Horton Vineyards. It was perfect! It was far enough away that we wouldn’t just go there on a whim, but close enough that we could go there and back in a day without it being a hassle. Also, Nadia really likes a few of their wines so it made sense.

But, if I just asked her if she wanted to go to Horton out of the blue, she would be suspicious. If Nadia and I are going somewhere – anywhere – and I don’t tell her exactly where we’re going, she keeps asking and asking because she needs to know what’s going on. There was no way I’d be able to trick her into a two-hour car ride without her calling me “shady” and being annoying.

So, I needed another destination close by. Google Maps showed me that Shenandoah National Park is about 20 miles from the winery. Nadia has mentioned hiking around the park a few times, so I figured that would be a good way to get down there without her being too suspicious.

On Sunday, August 1st, I decided that on Monday, I would drive to the park and the vineyard. It was the first Monday in a while that I had free, despite having had Mondays off for more than a month, so it was the perfect day to go.

I wanted to time the trip and make sure the GPS had the correct directions. (In retrospect, I took a pretty big gamble that Nadia wouldn’t look at the previous destinations list on the GPS before we visited the winery. Fortunately, she didn’t.)

I drove to the park and checked it out. It was easy to find. I verified the price-per-car and then headed to the winery. The winery and park are located on the same road, 20 miles apart so I didn’t think it would be too hard to find. But, the GPS had the winery in the wrong location. It was 1.5 miles farther down the road. Not a big deal, but if it was the day I was going to propose, I might have freaked out.

I spoke to a woman at the winery and told her of my plans. She told me that I could propose in their private tasting room, but on weekends, they have the red wine tastings there, so there would be people around. She showed me around. The private tasting room wasn’t very private so I asked if there was anywhere else.

She suggested proposing in the vineyard, which seemed like a better idea. Horton has a sizeable vineyard in front of the building, and it was very pretty so I decided that it would be better to propose there than in the tasting room. I asked her if there was a tour. Unfortunately, tours are for parties of 16 or more. How they came up with 16 people is beyond me, but whatever. She said that we could walk around the vineyard, and that she thought it would be a great place to do it.

I spoke with the woman for a little while longer. She told me about their sparkling viognier wine, which is like champagne, and said it would be perfect. I confirmed the hours, and then headed out. The plan was set.

On Friday, August 6th, Nadia told me that one of her relatives from Egypt was still in New York (Nadia thought she already went back to Egypt) and that she was going to visit her on… wait… for… it… August 14th. #$@%^!  I couldn’t tell her not to go, since she’s not likely to see this family member for a while. But, come on! Had I not planned the proposal, she wouldn’t have gone – I’m sure of it.

I was frustrated and defeated. When I found out, my mood changed. Nadia kept asking if everything was alright. I gave monosyllabic answers – I was annoyed. I kept trying to tell myself not to blame her because she didn’t know. But, blame her I did.

I rarely, if ever, plan anything. And the few times I do, she finds a way to unknowingly ruin those plans. Why did I expect this time to be different? I don’t know.

Anyway, once I calmed down, I figured I’d do it on the 15th. But, I need to make sure that I told her something so she wouldn’t make plans for that Sunday.

Since she was out of town the weekend before, and I currently had Nyah, I told her that we hadn’t spent much time together the last few weeks. So, I wanted to do something the 15th. I mentioned going to Shenandoah. She said okay, and didn’t suspect anything.  

That night, I talked to Nyah about my plans to propose. At first she said I couldn’t marry Nadia because she was going to marry her. I then explained to her what marriage was. I showed her the ring and told her it was a secret. She liked it and gave her approval.

Saturday night, Nyah, Nadia and I were hanging out, when Nyah came over to me and loudly whispered, “Can I tell her about the ring?” Fortunately, Nadia didn’t hear her, and I was able to reiterate that it was a secret without Nadia hearing. Whew.

On Monday, I spoke with her mom. I don’t remember exactly what I said – it was a blur – but it went well and I her mom gave me her blessing.

The next few days were spent sorting out the minor details: how I’d hide the ring, what I would say, how I’d present the ring, etc. The plan was to load up my backpack with water for the hike, that way I could also hide the ring in there.

Before I knew it, Sunday was here. It was raining, so I didn’t know if Nadia would still want to go to Shenandoah. She left it up to me, and I said let’s go. Normally, rain will prevent me from walking, so I thought by being so gung-ho about it might make her think something was going on, but I took my chances.

It sporadically rained all the way to the park. But, once we got there, the skies cleared and it was sunny and breezy. I thought this was a good sign.

We drove up to the park entrance and were informed that it was a “Fee Free Day,” meaning we got into the park free. This was also a good sign.

We drove up Skyline Drive, stopping at the scenic overlooks to take pictures. We also stopped and hiked up a steep trail. Nadia wanted to keep going but I convinced her to turn around because rock climbing was not on the agenda.

We stopped by the visitor’s center, which is where I suggest visiting Horton, since it “was close by.” Nadia liked that idea so we headed back down Skyline. We stopped for a couple more pictures and then headed to Horton. We stopped at Subway on the way so we could have lunch at the winery.

When we arrived, I suggested that we eat at one of the picnic tables. While she walked over, I got the ring and put it in my pocket. Obviously, the box created a huge, odd-looking bulge but I didn’t want to take it out and get finger prints on it. So, I had to cover the bulge with my hand as I walked, which made it look like I was doing an awkward pimp walk. She didn’t notice, though.

After we ate, we decided to walk through the vineyard. Nadia wasn’t sure we could, though, and wanted to ask to make sure it was allowed. I couldn’t tell her that I knew we could because as far as she knew, I’d never been there before. So, we went in and confirmed it was okay.

We took some pictures in the vineyard (we were the only ones out there because it was wet). We came up on row 32, which prompted me to tell Nadia how I liked the number 32 and that it was my favorite number.

She said that must mean that this was going to be the best year of my life, since I’m 32, and that it’s all downhill after this. I grabbed her hand and said that my life was going to get better as long as she was in it. I pulled out the ring and got on one knee.

She started breathing heavy and shaking.  She exclaimed, “Oh my God” a few times before saying, “Of course… yes.” We embraced for a few minutes, enjoying the moment. Then, I asked if she wanted to taste some wines.

As I turned to walk away, she still stood there. It appeared she was having difficulty walking – I guess she was still in shock and surprised. I asked if she was okay, since she wasn’t moving. We hugged and kissed again, then started heading back to the Horton building.

We took a couple of pictures of the ring, and then went inside to taste some wines. We never got around to tasting their sparkling viognier, but we did taste several of their other wines.

From there we met her mom and sister for dinner at Red Lobster. Surprisingly enough, they had champagne so we toasted this momentous occasion there.

Photo Gallery: The Proposal

It’s hard to pinpoint the exact moment when I thought, “I want to spend the rest of my life with Nadia.” There wasn’t an exact moment where a switch went from off to on. It was more like there was a series of moments and feelings that cumulatively amounted to everything feeling “right.”

The problem was that things felt right around the time that Nadia’s sister announced her engagement. So, to avoid committing a faux pas, I decided to wait to propose until after her sister was married. This was actually good thing because it gave me plenty of time to shop for the perfect engagement ring.

I didn’t want to go buy the ring with Nadia because I wanted it to be a surprise. Why? Because Nadia needs to know everything that’s going on, and if she doesn’t she’ll keep asking until she does. So, I was determined to get the perfect ring without her knowing.

I looked online, first, to get an idea of styles and prices. Then, I went to Jared. (What’s a 13-letter phrase for marriage proposal? He went to Jared!)

I went to Jared mainly because of the commercials – you see them a lot here. When I got there, I was walked through the “Jared Experience”: basically why I should buy from them instead of Roscoe’s Chicken and Engagement Rings.

After watching a video about Jared’s process, I was introduced to a saleswoman. She showed me a few rings The very first ring I looked at, I liked. It was a 14K white gold, .5 ctw ring with six round, channel-set diamonds. I looked at it with a princess (square) cut diamond. The one issue is that it sat really high on the hand, even with a small diamond. So the chances of it getting snagged were high.

I never got that feeling that it was “the ring.” But I liked it, and nothing else they had really jumped out at me. So, the woman wrote down the specs.

When all was said and done, the price was higher than I expected it to be. Jared charges you to set the diamond ($165) even if you buy the diamond and setting from them. And she cleverly added their protection plan to the price ($200.)

I put the paper in my pocket. That night, Nadia went to give me a hug and heard the paper crinkle in my pocket, and asked about it. She never asks what’s in my pocket! I told her to mind her own business and changed the subject. She called me sketchy or shady, but didn’t press the issue. Whew.

The next week, I visited three jewelers: Kay, Shaw and Fink, all located in the mall. None had anything of interest. The lines they carry are of a lower quality than I wanted. For example, there you can get a complete ring for $1,000 while most jewelers will charge that for a decent setting.

The mall jewelers didn’t know very much about diamonds. Beyond the four Cs, they couldn’t tell me much about the diamonds. And the women tried to use their “assets” to sell me a ring. I encountered four women, and all were wearing low-cut blouses and leaned forward when going for the sale. Needless to say, I didn’t buy from them.

I solicited Nadia for feedback. There was no way I’d be able to send her pictures of rings without her thinking that I was shopping for them. So, I told her I was “just getting some ideas.”

I sent her links to 10 rings with the goal of giving her so many options that she wouldn’t have a clue which one I was thinking about getting. In the first batch, I sent her the ring from Jared, which at the time was my top contender. She instantly balked. “It’s too square. It looks like a man’s ring. I don’t like it.” Again, I didn’t feel like it was “the ring,” but I liked it, so hearing this was like getting kicked in the gut.

After sending her another batch of rings, I started to pick out the patterns. She liked white gold, three-stone settings, side diamonds, and round shapes.

With that info I went to a local jeweler and met Larry. He had three rings that fit those specs. The first ring was a white gold, three-stone setting. It had four small diamonds on each side, two larger side stones, and a round center diamond. I saw it and instantly said, “That’s ‘the ring.’” We looked at the other two, but I knew the first was “the ring.”

Larry emailed me the ring so I could remember it. He also gave me the price of it with a 75 point diamond and a 96 point diamond with a price difference of $1,000. The price of the setting was more than double my setting budget.

I sent Nadia more batches, one with “the ring.” Her reaction to it was, “Ooooh, I like that.” It also just so happened to be the most expensive setting I sent her to that point.

I kept sending her rings. I accidently sent her a couple of the rings twice. When I noticed this, I asked her if she liked them. (Keep in mind that she previously said she did.) She said she didn’t, and then pointed out what she didn’t like about them. I was worried that she wouldn’t still like “the ring.”

I visited another jeweler and met Bobby. Bobby was straight-forward and genuinely nice. Unfortunately, he didn’t have anything that I liked as much as “the ring.”

At this point, it had been about a month and a half since I visited Jared. I ended up going to three more jewelers before settling on “the ring.” I really liked it, but I didn’t like Larry’s price. So, I looked for another jeweler to use as leverage against Larry.

In the picture Larry sent me, there was a watermark with the manufacturer’s name on it. I found their website, found the ring and tried to order it. Unfortunately, the manufacturer only sells to members of the jewelry trade. Blimey!

They had pictures of different angles of the ring. So, I sent them to Nadia at different times. It ended up being the only ring she consistently liked. I don’t think she realized it was the same ring because I sent her so many.  

Knowing that she liked it, I scoured the web for other jewelers who sold it. I searched for the item number and the manufacturer and got nothing. Weeks went by without any leads. I was getting discouraged and was close to biting the bullet and going over budget to get the ring from Larry.

Then, I started looking for similar rings. I thought that maybe I could get something that looked the same, but was cheaper online. As I searched, I learned that having the tiny side stones held in place by prongs instead of by a channel is called pave. I began searching for pave settings but didn’t find anything similar. But, I did find websites I hadn’t visited.

One of those sites told me that the name of the head style she liked was trellis (It looks like interlocking Us… or as Nadia calls it, a tulip). I started searching for a trellis, pave ring.

Four sites came up with similar rings. One only sold the ring with a small, low-quality diamond in it (and their site seemed sketchy). Two had “the ring” for the same price as Larry, and one had the ring for nearly 66% less than anywhere else.

I was excited but skeptical. I thought that maybe they were selling the ring with no diamonds. Adding the diamonds to the ring would’ve been more expensive than buying it with them included so, I emailed. I waited a day and then decided to order it without waiting for a reponse.

I had Gmail open while I was ordering it and received a message from the website as I was adding it to my cart. A woman named Meghan who worked at the website I was about to purchase the ring from wrote:

I discovered errors in listings for all of the new settings we recently added to our engagement ring gallery.  This included the ring you inquired about.  We are working on finding the source of the errors and correcting them.  Once I have the proper pricing and details ironed out, I will follow up.

I was very angry. I felt like I was baited with the ultra-low price and then they switched it on me.

I was considering paying Larry’s price when Meghan emailed me. Her price was over my budget, but a few hundred dollars cheaper than Larry’s, and she gave me a 10% discount. Still, it was going to be hard to pay Meghan’s price, knowing the original price they advertised. I told her about the cheaper ring I found on the sketchy website.

I told her I’d prefer to buy from someone I trust, but would go with the sketchy one if the price made it worth it. I told Larry the same thing. The goal was to get them lower their prices. Meghan asked for a link to the ring. Larry dropped his price and said it was the best he could do. His new price was $75 more than Meghan’s discounted price.

Meghan pointed out why it was cheaper: it had smaller diamonds and smaller proportions, which meant it had less gold. She also hyped her company’s diamond selection and cutting procedure, calling it superior.

I maintained that I didn’t care as long as it “looked decent.” I also mentioned that Nadia wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.  I also said that Nadia liked lighter, thinner rings because they look “more feminine.” 

I wrote, “I’m buying that ring. It’s just a matter of buying it from you or someone else.” I told her I wanted her to come down 30% , on top of the 10% off. She came down 28% more, and we had a deal. I ordered it that day. It took two weeks for them to make. I received it and was pleased with it.

Photo Gallery: Ring Shopping

The Diamond

Getting the ring at a heavily discounted price convinced me that I could get a similar deal on a diamond but, I’d need to research it. I went beyond the four Cs (carat, cut (shape), color and clarity). I researched info on the lab, table, depth, culet, cut grade, girdle, polish, symmetry, and fluorescence.

The ring was designed for a round, 3/4 ct diamond. It could probably fit a 1 ct round, but I didn’t want to bend the prongs any more than needed and risk damaging the ring. I looked for diamonds around 73-75 points.

I found that GIA is the gold standard in diamond grading. AGS is another acceptable diamond grader. Any other grader (EGL and ICI) will not be as accurate. A diamond with a G (near colorless) color grade with GIA may be an E (colorless) with EGL. EGL and ICI are said to have looser standards, which is why some people don’t recommend them.

The general consensus is that whatever the store price is for a diamond; assume that the seller paid half of that to get the diamond.

So taking that into consideration, I came up with grade and price ranges and only shopped for diamonds in those ranges. Originally, I wanted a colorless diamond (F or better.) But, after learning more, I realized that putting the F diamond next to G side stones would make the Gs appear darker. The naked eye can’t tell the difference between an E and G, unless they’re side by side. So, choosing a G would make the whole ring appear brighter. Choosing a higher color grade would make the center stone appear bright and the others appear yellow, which could hurt the value. So, I settled on G.

I contacted Bobby first, since he was close and I liked him. He got me 3 diamonds. He had a 74-point that met all of the requirements. He also had an 83 he wanted me to look at, but I didn’t want it because I ruled out anything bigger than 3/4 cts and it was over budget. The 74-point was inside my budget but at the very top.

A few days later, I went to the Jewelry Exchange in Bethesda, for the same reason I went to Jared… the commercials. Much like Jared, I probably see the Jewelry Exchange commercial at least twice a day. Because they are located nearly 30 minutes away, I decided that while I was in that area, I’d look at local jewelers to see what kind of diamonds they had.

My sister and I headed to the Jewelry Exchange. I spoke with a guy named Frank who showed me diamonds. He showed me mostly EGLs and one GIA. The GIA did meet most of my requirements and it cost $50 less than Bobby’s diamond.

Pretty much everything he showed me, my sister liked, which wasn’t helpful. I told him I’d think about the GIA diamond and might come back.

We headed to the next jeweler on my list. His name was Keith. When we walked into his place, there was a cleaning crew working. That was odd, considering it was Saturday. And, Keith wasn’t wearing a suit. All of the jewelers I had encountered up to this point were wearing suits – or at least jackets and ties. Keith was wearing a polo and shorts.

He told me doesn’t usually deal in diamonds that are less than 1 ct, but that he had two in stock. They both were GIA certified and 3/4 cts. One was an E, one was a G. I looked at both and asked for a price on each one. Keith’s E diamond was the same as G/H prices with Frank and Bobby. Keith’s G price was almost too good to be true.

He seemed honest and sincere, but his store looked sheisty. That plus the too-good-to-be-true prices made me suspicious. I talked it over with my sister. She and I seemed to have the same assessment of him: honest and straight forward. But, I still wanted to sleep on it, so we left.

We stopped by another jewelry store and met Connie. She was nice, but didn’t show me anything better than I’d already seen with Frank, Bobby, and Keith. Plus, Connie’s prices were double everyone else’s and she said there wasn’t much flexibility.

When I got home, I emailed Bobby to see if he would lower the price. He came down to a price I would’ve been happy to pay before going to Keith’s place. But Keith’s price was just too good. I also found reviews of Keith’s place as well as his BBB rating. Everything was in order, and there weren’t any bad reviews.

So, I went back to Keith two days later. This time, there was no cleaning crew. Instead there was a camera crew taking pictures for his website, which explained the Saturday cleaning.

I looked at the diamond again, and chose the G. (In the ring, the E really made the Gs look dull.) Keith had his jeweler set the ring for me. He said my timing was good because his jeweler was about to go out of the country for four months, so I would have had to pay someone to set the ring.

Once the diamond was set, the ring was appraised. Most sites say store appraisals are useless. They always recommend getting an independent appraisal.

Before I left, I looked at the diamond through the loupe and made sure it matched the diamond plot. I wanted to make sure the diamond I paid for was the one in the ring. It was, so I paid and left.

A few days later, I found an independent appraiser to appraise the ring for insurance purposes.  He verified that the grading report matched the diamond. Ironically enough, his appraisal was higher than the guy who appraised it at Keith’s. In most cases, the opposite is true. I ring appraised for much more than I paid for it. I was happy.  Once I had everything together, I got the ring insured.

Now, all that was left was to give to Nadia… but how? Read the story of the proposal here.

Once you’re familiar enough with blaxploitation movies, you have to watch Black Dynamite. A movie this bad can only be good, especially since it’s bad on purpose.

So, let me tell you a little bit about Black Dynamite. He’s a former Vietnam vet and CIA agent, and by all accounts, a pimp… who vows to clean up the streets after his brother is killed. In the process of avenging his brother’s death, he finds out that his brother worked for the CIA and that some shady organization is filling the orphanages with heroin.

So what’s Black Dynamite – who has a sweet theme song, by the way – going to do? He’s “gonna shake the tree from the roots, rake up the fruits, rip it up out the ground to find out what’s goin down. Don’t worry ‘bout tomorrow ‘cause tonight, Dynamite is gonna make it all right.” I should note, however, that if you interrupt him and finish the quote for him, he’ll threaten to “send your ass back to Crenshaw Pete, with his hot ass coat hangers.” Can you dig it? I can dig it.

Anyway, here are 20 things I learned from watching Black Dynamite.WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS.

1. If you speak in a quasi-English accent with precise diction, a crime boss will not believe you’re really from the streets.  For example, you can’t say something like, “Come on you jive turkeys. What kind of rundown is this?” (with a half-second pause between each word.) You have to say, “C’mon you jive turkeys. What kinda rundown is this?” (with no pauses.) Also, specifying that you’re from the streets and proclaiming you’re not a snitch is probably going to make the crime boss’ goons kill you.

2. In the 70s, car phones looked a lot like regular, home phones. They even have the same rings.

3. It’s okay to Kung Fu kick old ladies – but only if you’re 100% sure they’re hiding cats named Nipsy who haven’t paid up.

4. Never interrupt a black man’s Kung Fu. On a side note, if you’re going to practice Kung Fu, a red bandana, a red sash, and a pair of black pants is the only acceptable uniform to wear. You can not wear a shirt! When fighting goons, however, you can wear whatever you’d like.

5. The “old pie in the windowsill” trick consists of tricking someone into thinking you’re in front of them when in fact you’ve circled back behind them and turned the tables. CIA agents easily fall for this.

6. My friends need better nicknames. I don’t know about you, but if I had friends I called “Bullhorn, Cream Corn, Chicago Wind, Chocolate Giddy-Up, and Tasty Freeze” that would be pretty awesome, and I think my life would be much more interesting. Chocolate Giddy-Up!

7. If you drive off a cliff, your car will explode before hitting the ground. Also, if the car is expensive, say a Porsche, it will switch to a much cheaper car before driving off said cliff and blowing up.

8. CIA badges say “License to Kill” on them.

9. You can’t shake the “poisonous s–t” (smack) out of a little kid’s “smacked-up body.” Others have tried to no avail.

10. Roscoe’s Chicken and Waffles started out as Roscoe’s Chili and Donuts. Cream Corn should be credited with giving Roscoe the idea of chicken and waffles.

11. Donuts don’t wear alligator shoes.

12. Pimps hold meetings in which they take votes.

13. Zodialogical astronomy was created by the Greeks in 785 BC, and 785 is the area code of Topeka, Kansas.

14. The old “Birthday candle” trick is when you fake being shot, confusing the person who is pointing a gun at you. Then, as they look around to see where the bullet came from, you shoot them.

15. There is, in actuality, a place called Kung Fu Island. It has palm trees and, for some odd reason, as least one building there flies both a Dixie flag and an American flag. Well, I should say flew because the building was blown up.

16. Asian Kung Fu masters methodically stoke their freakishly long, white goatees. I presume this is to project a sinister look.

17. Kung Fu treachery is one hell of a way to die. If someone is decapitated, there will be no blood as long as they were killed by Kung Fu treachery.

18. President Nixon owns a pair of nunchaku and knows Kung Fu. Whether or not he is any good using either one is debatable.

19. The ghost of Abraham Lincoln knows Kung Fu. He appears to know Tiger’s Claw.

20. If you pimp-slap the First Lady into a china cabinet, you should apologize even if she shot at you but did not connect. If she did connect, however, pimp-slapping her into the china cabinet is justified.

Trailer:

By now, you’ve all seen the ads; various people punching others while calling out the color of the Volkswagen they just saw. Punch! “Black one!” Har. Har. Har. (That’s my sarcastic laugh.) These ads annoy me… a @#$%$ lot.

In case you’re wondering – and I’m sure you’re not – the punch buggy game started somewhere around the 1960s, based on unofficial sources and personal accounts from players, whatever that means.  In its new ad campaign, VW claims that Charlie “Sluggy” Patterson is the guy who made a game out of seeing the VW Beetle and punching his friends. This, however, is humorous fiction created for the ad campaign.

Most of us know that the point of the game is to punch someone in the arm when you see a VW Beetle while calling out “Punch Buggy” or “Slug Bug.” (Punchy buggy sounds way better, just FYI.) But, there is much more to it, at least if you ask Beetlemania, unauthorized keeper of the official Punch Buggy rules.

I’m not sure why Beetlemania is the authority on the game – probably because s/he’s the only one willing to admit to playing the game for 42 years (sad) or perhaps because, before this ad campaign, s/he was the only one still playing it – or even if this person is the authority, but I’ll accept that this person is because, well…why not?

So, according to Beetlemania, a punch buggy can be any of the following: a vintage type 1 or standard Beetle, a vintage Super Beetle, “Beetlesque coach-builts such as a Hebmüller or Karmann Cabriolet,” a non-German, air-cooled Beetle, a modified-but-still-recognizable Beetle, or a New VW Beetle.

The new Beetle is a point of contention for some punch buggy players, as some view it as invalid for game purposes. Seriously. But, as the older models become rare, some players may allow new Beetles to count in the game, to keep it going. In these situations, older Beetles count for two punches.

Beetlemania, however, thinks that the new Beetles count. But, any Beetle modified so that it is not recognizable does not count. That means the Bradley GT, the HumBug (Hummer on Beetle chassis?), the Rometsch, the 181 Kurierwagen (called Thing in the US), and (as Beetlemania puts it) “any other product of Volkswagen beyond those listed as qualifying above — regardless of what some high paid marketing consultant may want you to believe” — doesn’t count. (Photos: What Constitutes A Punch Buggy?)

Why? Well, Beetlemania argues that “one of the allures of playing Punch Buggy has always been that Punch Buggies, by their very nature, are a) readily identifiable as such and b) somewhat uncommon.” If you allow any VW to count, the game would become boring, or there would be so much hitting that the game would become banned by parents (as it’s kids who usually play during car trips).

I know that VW thinks it’s clever for coming up with this campaign, branding it as a whole new game, but come on! I liked the campaign when the cars crashed unexpectedly. At least those showed us something about the car.

Here is one of the ads:

Anyway, here are some other interesting tidbits I found out about the punch buggy game.

A standard game consists of calling out, “Punch buggy” while punching the person on the arm. Some players require the color of the punch buggy to be called out to limit calling out a fake buggy. By calling the color, the player has more proof it exists. And, if the player calls the wrong color, the opposing player may punch the original caller.

Beetlemania says that each called punch buggy is worth a point for the first person who calls it. If you wrongly identify a punch buggy or call out the wrong color, you lose a point. You can be double punched if you’ve already delivered a punch to the opposing player. Or the person can save the punch to take away a legitimate punch buggy punch from you later.

Also, hits should be firm, yet gentle. You shouldn’t hit a person harder than you want to be hit. Also, you can’t call out punch buggy and punch someone for a Beetle you or someone in your family owns*.

* Beetlemania writes, “You don’t really ‘own’ a Punch Buggy. You adopt them and they become members of the family. If you have a Punch Buggy in the family you will understand what I mean.”

Similarly, you can’t punch someone when you pass a VW dealer with several Beetles on the lot. It seems that Beetlemania has covered just about every situation. S/he even writes, “Punch Buggies being moved from a car-carrier parked in the street in front of a Volkswagen dealership to the lot or vice-versa may or may not be fair game.”

Fascinating!

The plan was to get to the track by 8:30 p.m.; we were meeting friends there. I got to Mike’s around 7:45 p.m. and we left shortly thereafter. The problem is that MIR is in the middle of fumblebuck Maryland and is @ss-far away from Mike’s place in Alexandria. The ride is like an hour and a half.

While we were on our way, we passed some d-bag kid in an older (1997-1999ish) BMW M3. We weren’t speeding, or attempting to race – just trying to get to the track. He, however, wanted to prove that his car was faster, even though we all knew it wasn’t. Perhaps the massive amount of gel in this kid’s hair was putting too much pressure on his brain for it to operate correctly. I really don’t know.

But, he would get behind us, ride on our tail, then move to pass us, then slam on the brakes to avoid slower car, and get behind us and do it again. He did it about three times. Eventually he made the pass. He must have felt like he accomplished something. Way to go, kid.

Anyway, we arrived at the track after 9 p.m., I think. We drove up to the gate and were informed it was $20 to race and $10 to watch. We were given a form to fill out so that Mike could race. The form basically asked for your contact information and car information, and contained the rules for racing and a liability waiver.

To paraphrase, it basically said don’t act like a jack@ss when you’re not on the track, and if you die, sucks for you, but it ain’t our fault. We drove to tech inspection and were greeted by a big dude. He gave Mike a pen to fill out the form and looked at the car. I should note that he did not look over the car, he simply looked at it.

After filling out the form, he wrote a, identifying number in the right corner of Mike’s windshield and on his rear, passenger side window. Mike asked if he needed to have his car inspected, to which the guy replied, “You’re good.” I don’t know exactly what tech inspection entails, but it didn’t seem like much since it could be performed without touching the car or raising the hood.

After that, we drove over to park and wait for them to call the street division. We caught up with Mike’s brother-in-law, Andy, and his friends, Mike and Tommy. Andy has a slammed Mustang Cobra while other Mike and Tommy have Mustang GTs.

Other Mike, Tommy, and Andy all gave Mike pointers on anticipating the tree (designates the start) and making his first pass down the track. They told him how many RPMs he should be turning at the start and how to stage.

When you approach the track, there is a small trench with water in it. Cars with racing slicks (no tread) wet their tires, and then perform a burnout to heat the tires, lay rubber on the track, and remove debris from the tires. This improves traction. If you have treaded tires, like Mike does, you avoid the water box because your tires will drip water on the track, making it unsafe for those who run after you. Most people with street tires skipped the burnout.

As you roll forward, approaching the tree, a set of yellow lights come on indicating that you’ve pre-staged (you’re roughly seven inches from the starting line). You roll forward a bit more and a second set of lights comes on, indicating you’re staged (at the starting line).  You can roll forward a little more to gain a slight advantage, but you’d be very close to being disqualified.

Once both cars are staged (the “staged” lights are on for both drivers) three amber lights illuminate one at a time about a half second apart, and then a green light illuminates about a half second after that indicating the start of the race. Tommy and other Mike were telling Mike that he should start to go on the last amber light instead of waiting for the green. If you wait, they said, you’ll be slow. If, however, you leave the starting line too early, you get a red light, which means you’re disqualified.

On his first pass, Mike skipped the burnout and rolled up to stage. Perhaps being a bit amped up to race, he rolled a little too far forward. His staging lights came on and went back off so he had to back up. I can’t imagine that this is uncommon for a driver on his first night of racing. Fortunately he didn’t roll too far ahead otherwise he would have been disqualified. His opponent, a Ford pickup, staged perfectly.

They both had good reaction times and took off almost simultaneously. But, Mike’s car, having much more horsepower and being much lighter, opened up a 5 car length lead in the first few hundred feet and was gone. He ran the quarter-mile in 13.43 seconds at 109.50 mph. His reaction time was .043, which is decent. Not a bad run, considering it was his first time.

The first run is heads up (both drivers start at the same time), and it determines your dial-in time. I could be explaining this wrong, but in order to win a race you have to cross the finish line first, without breaking out (running quicker than your dial-in time.) So, the time on your windshield is essentially a time you can’t run faster than unless you want to be disqualified. This explains why several cars were braking before the finish line… they knew they had the race won and didn’t want to break out and get disqualified, I assume.

After your first run, you have to write this time on your windshield and your passenger side rear window, under your car number.

Mike parked and waited for the next round of the street division. In the meantime, we wandered around, checking out other cars and talking to the other racers. A couple of guys came over to Mike’s car to ask about his oil catch can. They wanted to know if he made it himself. He informed them where he got it. Next thing you know, we head over to check out their car, a 2001 Mustang GT Bullitt, designed after the car made famous in the Steve McQueen movie. The guy dropped a turbo in it, too. It looked awesome despite needing to be washed.

We talked to a few other guys. One had a 2009 or 2010 Challenger with a Hemi. He told us that it wasn’t running right and he was trying to figure out why. He came off a little like a d-bag, but perhaps he was preoccupied with trying to figure out what was up with his car. We quickly moved on.   

After the pro division wrapped up, round 2 of the street division was up. On his second pass, Mike was taking on a 1970 340 Dodge Dart. In ET (Elapsed Time) Bracket Racing, cars with varying performance levels can compete against each other. The times of the two cars are compared, and the slower car gets a head start based on the time difference between the two cars.

Mike’s car was faster than the Dart, so the Dart got a head start to level the playing field. But, the guy in the Dart jumped the start and he got a red light and was disqualified. Mike moved on to the next round.

On the run, Mike didn’t have as quick a start as he did the first time – I suspect he was overthinking, trying to apply the advice Tommy and other Mike gave him to improve his starting time. His first run, he just reacted. His second run, he was thinking about how to improve and ended up doing worse. He also said he missed a shift towards the end of the track. Several of the guys we talked to thought that he might have been throwing it into gear before fully depressing the clutch. Anyway, that killed his speed but it didn’t matter because he was moving on.

On the third run, Mike was up against a 1987- 1993 Mustang Coupe. This guy was an experienced drag racer, and had probably been to the track a few times before. Mike’s car was slower so he was supposed to get a head start. The announcer even started to say it. But, before we knew it, the coupe was far ahead and easily cruising to victory.

I didn’t get the tree in the video but I assume Mike didn’t get going when his light changed because the guy in the Coupe took off at about the same time Mike did and he didn’t receive a red light. (Maybe Mike was too busy looking at the paint scheme… I don’t know.) By the time Mike got going, the Coupe had a five-to-seven car length lead. It was over. Mike said he again missed a shift. In the video you can hear him throw it into neutral – even if just barely. Mike was eliminated.

We hung out and watched Tommy make a couple more passes until he was eliminated. Then we took off. All in all, it was a fun time. Met some interesting people and got to see some fun racing. One day, I might hit the track. Of course, not in my Honda Civic.

Tommy vs. other Mike (red w/ silver stripes):

Other Mike vs. a Chevy Bel Air:

Tommy vs. Toyota Rav 4:

Tommy vs. Third generation Mustang:

I really, really love the picture from the AP. The look on Consalvi’s face is awesome. It’s almost as if he can sense something bad is about to happen. He probably thought he’d get tackled; little did he realize he was about to get lit up.

Next time you watch a footrace – a real, competitive, sanctioned footrace, not two drunken idiots sprinting in front of a bar – you’ll notice that most, if not all of the runners frown. Why? Don’t know, really. My guess is that it has something to do with competition, focus and determination.

Know who doesn’t usually frown when they run? NFL running backs. Know why? Because they’re constantly looking around to see if anyone is about to catch them – on long runs, anyway. So, if you look at Consalvi’s face in the picture, his eyebrows are raised and he’s looking to the side, much like a RB.

When you add in the nervous grimace on his face, he looks like he just figured out that he bit off more than he could chew. The funniest thing about this pic is that Consalvi has no idea that the cop is getting ready to light him up.

The cop doesn’t look really out of shape, but he’s getting smoked by this kid. This is clearly due to lack of effort, since Consalvi wasn’t exactly displaying 4.4 speed. In the pic, Consalvi’s hat is about to come off, since he’s really running. The cop’s hat is firmly in place, indicating that he is not traveling at that high a rate of speed.

If you watch the video, it looks like the cop isn’t even trying to catch him. If that was 100% effort, wow is that dude slow. Maybe he just doesn’t run much. His flailing arms and short stride are poor form.

Fortunately for him, there are a lot of officials, allowing them to create outside containment. Consalvi has no choice but to flip a U. When I watched this unfold it reminded me of when cops try to contain a deer; they know they can’t run it down, so they try to direct its path.

Consalvi made a wide u-turn. Note: when you’re being chased, you’ve got to make crisp, clean cuts and changes in direction. Consalvi instead chose the “slow arc” U-turn. It didn’t matter much since the cop took such a bad angle – he must not have played football – allowing Consalvi to split him and another official while taunting them with his towel. But he failed to realize that the cop was lining up the shot. Then, ZZZT! Consalvi went down kind of like he was sliding into home plate. And that was that.

Now, if he had faked inside, then went outside after his arcing U-turn, he would have been too far away from the cop to get tased. But, obviously he wasn’t making sound decisions considering he was on the field in the first place.

Later we find out that the dude called his pops and asked if it was okay to run on the field. That’s really mistake number 1. If you have to call your parent and ask permission to do something like that, you obviously don’t have the brass ones required to pull it off. So don’t do it.

But, if you just can’t resist, you really ought to wear cleats. Sneakers aren’t really going to give you the traction you need to perform the cuts and plants required to get some cheers. Fans like it when the security guards fall over or get faked out in these situations. Also, you should learn how to juke. Throw in a stutter step, a head fake, a spin move, something to buy yourself a little time. You don’t even need to be fast to fake someone out. If you’re really brave, you might even try a stiff arm, but that might count as assault.

You also have to have your head on a swivel. We can all tell that dude is going to get tased, no doubt. Watch the cop; the only time he isn’t aiming at Consalvi is when he’s too far to hit him. Had Consalvi bothered to check out the video boards or look over his shoulder, he would have known to start weaving instead of running in a straight line.

Sort of like Boyz n the Hood… You’re telling me Ricky Baker is a star running back being courted by USC to play football yet he doesn’t know enough to zigzag when Ferris is aiming a gun at him? Never run in a straight line, you’re much better off zigzagging. Be unpredictable. Consalvi should’ve used that advice.

Running on the field never ends well, if you’re a dude. Chicks don’t get tackled. But a dude, will get jacked up. So what’s the point? These days, they don’t even show you on TV and the idea is not original. Plus, you just end up looking like a d-bag.

On Saturday, Nadia, Nyah, and I headed to the National Zoo for a birthday party. I had never been to the National Zoo in nine years of living in the DC area. Not sure why exactly, guess I just never really had a reason to go. So, I didn’t really know what to expect.

The last zoo I’ve been to is the Turtle Back Zoo in New Jersey. Just to give you a sense of the type of zoo Turtle Back is, in the rules it says not to throw things at the animals or hang on the trees. The National Zoo is more concerned about respecting the boundaries around animals.

In other (overly simplified) words, kids in NJ terrorize the animals while kids in DC fall into the animal habitats and get attacked by animals. Maybe that’s just my interpretation. But anyway, I wasn’t sure what was allowed into the zoo. Could we bring a backpack, for example?

So, I checked out the website. Interestingly enough, the site specified that you could bring a wagon or a cooler, but said nothing of backpacks. I attempted to call but it was too early. So, I figured, if you can bring a cooler, you can bring a backpack. So, we did and we were right, you could bring a backpack.

We decided to Metro in because we heard bad things about trying to find parking at the zoo. The site said it was roughly three blocks to the zoo, about a half mile. It was a little chilly out, but the walk wasn’t too bad.

We entered the zoo at what I assumed was the main entrance because the Visitor Center was located there. We were meeting our party at the zoo, but no entrance was specified. So, Nadia called to find out where they were. They drove to the zoo, and were instructed to park in Lot E. Lot E was on the other side of the park. Of course.

After a little confusion as to whether they would come meet us, or we would go meet them, we hoofed it to them because they found some picnic tables near the Kid’s Farm – so we could eat lunch. It was a decent walk to the other side of the park, and we had to move relatively quickly because we knew they were waiting for us. Eventually, we made it.

After a lunch reminiscent of my elementary school days (even had my name on it. Sweet!), the kids made their way to a pizza play area. If you don’t know what that is, it is a big foam and, I think, vinyl/plastic pizza on the ground with moveable toppings. It also has a couple of educational stations around it that showed how each part of the pizza related to a certain animal or plant/vegetable.

 From there, we hit the Kid’s Farm, which is essentially a petting zoo. We saw fish, goats, pigs, cows, alpacas, donkeys, and bunnies. Yeah, bunnies. Weird. Since those animals were not interested in anything other than grazing, and Nyah has seen them before, they didn’t really hold her interest. So, we quickly moved on.

Next on the agenda was the Great Cats exhibit. When we arrived at the tiger habitat, there were a few people around, but not a big crowd. The tiger (I think it was Soyono based on my picture of her vs. the pic on website) was just chilling, minding her own business. As the crowd grew, she got up and made her way down to the front of the habitat, with people snapping pictures and recording her every move.

First, she went down the stairs to the doors I assume the staff use to access the cage. We couldn’t see her anymore. She hung around there for a minute or so, prompting some of the crowd to groan. A couple of kids complained of not being able to see her.

Then, she came back up and faced the crowd, as if to say, “Get your cameras ready.” Then, she took a nice long drink as onlookers snapped countless pictures. She started to walk away, but then turned and came back. This time, she turned around and slowly dipped her back foot into the water and eased herself in. From what I’ve seen of tigers, they’re usually attacking or running, so it was interesting to see one just chilling out.

After a few minutes of relaxing in the water, she got out and dried herself against some bushes. Then she went back to lying down. She was quite the show-woman.

We headed to see the lions. They were not as entertaining. One was lying down while the other two were just standing there, looking intently at the crowd. Nyah made her way over to a little glass window to see the lions. When she did, one of the females started staring at her. I said that she was thinking, “Lunch.” Nyah did not find that funny and ran away from the window.

From there, we went to the Think Tank, but we didn’t go in. The Think Tank showcases how charismatic species think, and it offers an interactive exploration, whatever that means. We looked at the orangutans and macaques, but they weren’t doing anything, so we headed to the Reptile Discover Center.

Nyah seemed to really enjoy the reptile exhibit. She liked seeing all of the lizards and snakes. She wasn’t a big fan of the alligator because she thought it was a statue, as did most everyone. The only way you could tell it was real was because it opened its eyes occasionally.

Throughout the zoo, rules and posted signs constantly remind us that the animals are on a specific diet. Well, if the lizards were any indication, they’re apparently served salads with what looked like Baco’s. Don’t worry, Baco’s are not bacon bits, they’re made of soy. But still, it’s weird to see. The lizard we saw eating the salad seemed to really enjoy its “bacon-like” experience.

Then, we went to the Great Ape House. That house was the only one with a distinct, not-so-pleasant odor. One visitor said, “The smell is going to make me throw up. I’m going outside.” The ape house was crowded and hot. But, Nyah liked seeing the gorillas and the orangutans. Mandara, one of the gorillas, was sitting in what looked like a hammock, looking at the big crowd taking pictures through the glass. Nyah waved at her.

Another gorilla, looked like Kojo based on the pictures, was sitting by a little round window eating lettuce. Nyah semi-politely made her way to the front of the window and the primate looked at her. She got a kick out of that. Shortly after that, he moved away from the window.

We then visited the Small Mammal House. Nyah seemed to enjoy this exhibit, too. We got to see some exotic squirrels and ferrets. We didn’t get to see the chinchilla, though – I think Nyah really wanted to see that.  She did, however, get up close and personal with the naked mole rats. A zoo volunteer was holding some in a little cage. He explained a little about them to her.

We saw them a little later in the exhibit, and Nyah spoke with another volunteer about them and their habitat. Why she liked them, I’ll never know. They’re ugly. But, she got a kick out of them.

It was about this time that Nyah started to get tired. We had done a lot of walking, so it was understandable. We were about halfway through the zoo, and figured we’d wrap up our visit.

We stopped to use the restroom. While Nadia and Nyah were in there, some woman with an accent left her son (I think he was around 6) outside while she took her daughter to the bathroom. I thought this was odd, as I would’ve been worried about the kid.

Anyway, while she was gone, he decided it would be a good idea to swing on the railing across from the bathroom. Well, needless to say, he fell and banged his head pretty good. But, he didn’t cry. Instead, he cleaned the mulch out of his hair, and then smoothed out the rest of the mulch to hide his head print. A few minutes later, he did it again. This time, however, he didn’t hit his head as hard.

The second time he did it, I thought to myself, “Is this really a kid you’d leave on his own in a crowded zoo?” The woman was in the bathroom longer than all three of us combined so I don’t know how long she was in there. I assume everything was okay, though, since the kid didn’t appear to be interested in wandering off.

We were heading back through the zoo so we could go home when we decided to see the pandas. I mean, how can you go to the zoo and not look at the pandas?

The outdoor panda exhibit was uneventful. The only panda outside was lying down. We could barely see it because it was lying towards the top of its habitat and facing away from us. When we got inside, we were able to see the back of one of the pandas. It was going to town on some bamboo, but it had its back to the big crowd.

When we went to the next part of the exhibit (panda control room), we could see the pandas face on one of the cameras. If you’ve never been to the National Zoo, pandas are a big deal, and they have all sorts of camera equipment and computers to monitor them. It was interesting to see.

Once we saw the pandas, we decided we should leave. We had walked quite a bit and Nyah was getting tired. So, we headed out.

All in all, it was a fun time. Got some good exercise, fresh (cold) air, and got to see some interesting animals. Nyah seemed to really enjoy it. We’ll obviously have to go back to see all that we missed, including the elephant exhibit, since it is being expanded. But, we still saw enough to have a good time.

He wasn’t wearing a tie.

I don’t know about you, but when someone is selling me something (in this case Tiger trying to sell me the fact that he is sorry. *Cough* *cough* bullsh_t *cough* *cough*) I prefer they’d be wearing a tie. It shows me that they’re taking the whole thing seriously. Sans tie gives the impression of someone who is down to earth and laid back, which is not what you want in this situation. If you want me to believe you, wear a tie. And none of that Jonas Brothers/Justin Timberlake casual tie BS! Hate that look. Wear a formal tie with a Windsor knot. That way, you can do the “let me be straight with you” tie-loosen to earn my trust.

He shouldn’t have read from cards.

With all the advancements we’ve seen in teleprompter technology, there’s absolutely no reason for you to come out to address the public with written notes on 3X5 cards. It makes me think you scribbled down your speech 15 minutes before you came out. That, or you’re studying for a French test. Forbes estimated Tiger’s net worth to be $600 million last year. So he could certainly afford to obtain Barack Obama’s teleprompters for this presser.

When you’re reading from 3X5 cards, you have to keep looking down. I once read somewhere that when a person breaks eye contact from another person, the direction their eyes move indicates their level of confidence. If, for example, I’m looking at you, and we make eye contact, then I look down, it indicates I am intimidated or that I am not confident. If I look away to the side, I’m confident and not intimidated. (No idea what it means if I look up after looking you in the eye, so don’t ask.)

Anyway, Tiger had to keep looking down, which makes us naturally question how committed he was to the words on those cards since he didn’t appear confident. And when you add in the awkward pauses that were created when looking at the cards, it appears insincere. Unnatural breaks in a conversation create the appearance of dishonesty. It’s like stalling. We all consciously know he needs to pause to look at the cards, but subconsciously will still think he’s being dishonest.

There were also a few points in the presser that he looked like he was making forced pauses. It was like he was counting in his head the number of seconds to pause. One of the instances was when he was denying allegations that Elin hit him. He said:

Elin has shown enormous grace and poise throughout this ordeal. (seemingly forced pause) (Head shake) Elin deserves praise not blame.

It could have been that Tiger picked a bad time to forget what to say next. Or it could have been a forced pause. It just seemed forced the way it played out.

He misused inflection.

Anyone who is a skilled public speaker knows how to use inflection to their advantage. Without even knowing how to use, most people know how different inflection changes the meaning of a sentence. “I’m so sorry” is not the same as “I am soooooooo sorry.” So, when Tiger began speaking in a flat, monotonous tone, I would think a lot of people found it insincere. If an apology has consistent changes in inflection and volume, it’s much more likely to be believed.

The only times Tiger’s inflection changed is when he was telling the press to leave his family alone, and denying the allegations of domestic abuse by Elin. And even then, he got louder, but not passionate. He was probably told not to express any anger in the presser because then the press would have more incentive to bury him. But, truth be told, most of the damage is done. So, passionately expressing his anger wouldn’t have been a big deal. If anything, it would prove he is human and had feelings.

He should have expressed a little more sincere anger during the presser. Again, he got loud, but not passionate. Had he expressed genuine anger, it would have added conviction to what he was saying. Then, perhaps, people would have believed him a little more.

He should have practiced his facial expressions more.

Some would characterize Tiger’s facial expressions as sorrowful, but not me. I think they were a little bit distant… detached. (This might sound a little low and conniving… and it is, but) Tiger should have been intensely rubbing his eyes before the presser to make them red. Red eyes makes people think he’s been crying. Crying before the presser would have made him seem more sincere… like he’s truly sorry. Crying at the presser probably would have felt insincere if Tiger is a bad actor.

Anyway, Tiger came out with a somewhat blank stare, which made the audience more aware that he was reading a pre-rehearsed speech. Had he talked with his hands more (He wouldn’t have had to hold cards if he was using the prompters) and used a few more facial expressions, he could have displayed the conviction of his words, thus fostering believability.

His facial expressions from this presser could just as easily have been used in a presser announcing some new Nike golf balls.

I’m not trying to be hard on Tiger because I don’t believe him. I really don’t care. If he’s sorry, that’s great. If not, that’s fine too. Who am I to judge?

At the end of the day, these are just my own personal thoughts of his presser. They could be completely wrong or dead on. But either way, they’re just my opinions.

Before I end this, I’ll just include some things I think Tiger should have said in his presser:

I’m here today to unveil my new iPhone app called Woods B Gone. It automatically erases all of the female names from your contact list. Man, I wish I had that. Just kidding, but seriously, I apologize.

It wasn’t me. It was my evil twin, Lion Woods.

The only performance-enhancing drug I used was Viagra.

As Elin pointed out to me, my real apology to her will not come in the form of words… it will come in the form of a big @ss Diamond ring. Thanks for the idea, Kobe.

See the presser:

On the penultimate jump, however, she attempted a method grab, which is an aerial trick where the snowboarder torques the board and then grabs it in mid-air. There was absolutely no need for her to do this; she was just showing off. Well, needless to say, she landed on the edge of her board and fell.

She was able to recover but not before Frieden zoomed by her and took the gold. She recovered to win the silver, but that was of little consolation.

In this year’s Olympics, she was the gold-medal favorite in the same event. Redemption was the name of the game. She took the lead right out of the gate in the semi-final round. But, she caught too much of air on the third big jump, and landed too close to Canadian Maelle Ricker, her biggest competition for the gold. She stumbled heading into the sharp left-hander, losing her balance and crashing through the inside gate, resulting in an immediate disqualification.

Jeff Passan of Yahoo Sports wants to add Jacobellis to the dictionary. The definition of Jacobellis is:

1. To cost oneself athletic glory and sentence oneself to a lifetime of smarmy people using surname as a verb, esp. through youthfully hubristic hot-dogging. 2. To spin out and end an Olympic Games in disappointment.

I decided, out of sheer boredom, which admittingly is the reason I do a lot of the things I do for this blog, to take a look at some examples of Jacobellising.

Some would classify Jacobellising as an epic sports fail. I think that’s a little too broad. In order for me to classify something as Jacobellising, I think it needs to meet certain criteria. First, the athlete must showboat.

In a Thanksgiving  Day game in 1993, Dallas led Miami with 15 seconds remaining. Miami attempted a 41-yard field goal, but missed. Leon Lett attempted to cover the ball, but due to snow and sleet, was unable to. Had he let the ball sit, the Cowboys would have received the ball back automatically. But, by touching it, the ball became live, allowing Miami to recover it.They then kicked another field goal to win the game. This, however, doesn’t count as Jacobellising because Lett was not showboating. 

Leon Lett’s showboating in Superbowl XXVII did cost him a touchdown, but did not cost the Cowboys the victory, so that play is disqualified as well.

Kenny Perry’s collaspe at the 2009 Master’s Tournament, giving up a two-shot lead over the final two holes, does not count as Jacobellising because he lost as the result of mistakes, not showboating. Nor does Bill Buckner’s infamous 1986 World Series error because it was a mistake, not showboating.

Second, the showboating must cost the athlete the win. For this reason, Dre Bly’s interception, then fumble doesn’t make this list because his team was down 25 points at the time, and the play did not affect the outcome of the game. DeSean Jackson’s fumble before crossing the goal line against Dallas is also disqualified because of this.

In 2003, Bjorn Wirdheim, a Swedish Formula 3000 Series driver, was on his way to an easy win at Monaco, with an insurmountable lead going into the final corner. But, before taking the checkered flag, he slowed to wave to his pit crew, allowing Nicolas Kiesa, who was running at full speed, to pass him and take the win.

Jean Van de Velde, a French golfer, was on his way to winning The Open Championship in 1999. All he needed was a double-bogey six on the 18th hole to become the first Frenchman to win it since 1907.

He had a three-shot lead, but still chose to use his driver off the tee. He drove the ball to the right of the burn. He then went for the green on his second shot, instead of his third, which would have been safer/smarter. The shot hit the grandstands and rolled into the rough.

On the downswingof his third shot, he tangled his club in the rough, and the shot sailed into the burn. He took a drop and proceeded to hit the ball into the greenside bunker. His sixth shot, which was from the bunker, landed six feet from the hole. He made the putt on his seventh shot for a triple-bogey seven, dropping him into a three-way tie with Justin Leonard and Paul Lawrie. He eventually lost in the playoff.

Bill Shoemaker was a jockey who rode in the 1957 Kentucky Derby. He was out front, riding Gallant Man on his way to victory when stood up in his stirrups to celebrate the victory, having misjudged the finish line. Bill Hartack riding Iron Liege passed Shoemaker to win the race.

Here is an unidentified cyclist Jacobellising. I’m not sure which race this was, but it is rumored to be the Paris Roubaix. Some put the date at 2005, but the quality of the video and my research indicates that is not accurate.

Anyway, the leader is a few feet from the finish line and he decided to put his hands up in celebration. He ends up falling and either knocking off his chain or breaking it. When he jumps back on the bike, he pedals, but the bike goes nowhere. He is forced to watch another rider win while he runs his bike across the finish line.

Several motorcycle racers celebrate too early and end up costing themselves a win: Julian Simon and Shaun Emmet are two examples.

These are just a few of the examples of Jacobellising; I’m sure there are many more. But few have come on a stage as big as the Olympics. Still, if another athlete commits a more egregious showboating mistake than Jacobellis’s, that person’s surname should replace her’s in the dictionary.

What quality of milk makes it such a hot, pre-snowstorm purchase? Is there another use of which I am unaware? Does pouring milk over your tires, and/or shoes, make them adhere to snow better, thus allowing you to get around? Maybe milk can somehow be turned into a fuel, suitable for use in a generator?

I’ve never heard a single person utter the words, “It’s going to snow? I’d better go get some gas for my generator.” It’s always milk, bread, and eggs*. Sure, people go and buy gas… but they don’t seem to advertise it like the milk-buyers.

* Based on a completely unscientific poll of one person (myself), I found that the items most people purchase before a snowstorm are milk, bread, and eggs in that order. Apparently, when we hear it’s going to snow, we all get a hankerin’ for some French toast, or some sort of bizarre milk and egg sandwich.
 
The milk-buyers seem to want to perpetuate the panic – making others buy milk – which is ironic when you think about it, because they’re the same people who complain that they couldn’t get milk because it was sold out.

At work, I heard about the snowstorm at least a dozen times. And, everytime someone brought it up, another person said, “Yeah, I need to get to the store to get some milk.” It was like a programmed response. Perhaps it’s a subliminal message embedded in those “Got Milk?” ads.

Why, though? Why is everyone in such a rush to get milk at first report of a major snowstorm? I racked my brain for a while, and came up with a few possible answers, but nothing that could concretely explain the need to rush to the store for milk. So, I asked others to see if maybe I was the only one struggling to figure out why people needed milk.

The most common response I received was, “Why do you care?” Well, because I’ve got nothing better to do, so why not. Once we got past that part, I got many different possible answers.
 
A lot of people said that they wanted hot cocoa or coffee. Okay, but do we really need to rush to the store for milk for coffee and/or hot cocoa? I mean, are we going to freeze to death without cocoa or coffee?

Some people also said that you can make a lot of different things with milk, bread, and eggs. And while this is true, you can also make a lot of things without them. Well, unless your plan is to bake a cake. Then, you you’re probably going to want some milk and eggs. I wonder if snowstorms affect cake-mix sales.

One person mentioned needing milk for an infant, which makes some sense. But, a lot of infants drink breast milk. Those that don’t, probably use formula. In a jam, formula can be made with water, though. A few days without milk won’t hurt your kid. But, there’s a certain peace of mind that comes with having milk for your kid. And that brings me to the most logical answer.
 
It is psychological. When people hear that they’re going to be stuck at home for a while, they panic. They anticipate that they’ll run out of milk. And, due to the run on milk that a snowstorm brings, and the likelihood that stores won’t receive milk deliveries due to the snow, they fear that they won’t be able to get any for several days.

It’s not a rational way of thinking. But, herd mentality is rarely rational. Chances are, most of us will not run out of milk or food, even if we’re trapped inside for an extended period of time. Sure, you may have to eat that can of Spaghetti Os you’ve had for a year and a half. But, you won’t run out of food. So, you probably don’t have rush to the store ahead of the storm. But, you do it because it gives you peace of mind.

A senior vice president with the National Milk Producers Federation speculated:

Just like with bread and toilet paper – two other items that seem to sell quickly before a storm – milk is viewed by many as a daily staple, and so people don’t want to be in a position of running out of it if they’re snowed under.  There’s probably some herd mentality behind it, but milk is one of the few products that virtually all households consume on a daily basis.

The VP was right. I don’t think I’ve ever been in a house that didn’t consume milk. If you ask someone for milk, and they don’t have it, they say, “We’re out of milk.” They never say, “We don’t consume milk in this house. We don’t believe in it.” And if they did, you’d think they were crazy. Whoever advertises milk has done a good job of convincing everyone that they must use it.

Anyway, I checked the store. At 10 p.m. the night before the storm, the grocery store was filled with frantic people trying to snatch up just about every bit of food they could in anticipation of the snowplocalypse.

Giant had a few security guards on duty to maintain order, I assume.

The store was out of most produce. They had no apples, oranges, or bananas. They were out of every type of lettuce, except a couple of bags of nasty looking Dole lettuce. They were even out of tomatoes. They were also out of all sizes of skim milk. Strangely enough, they had plenty of Vitamin D milk. I guess those who panic are watching their weight or lactose intolerant.

There were still eggs left, but there was a decent-sized crowd around them. White bread was completely gone, but you could get plenty of wheat. Toilet paper was almost sold out. The good brands — Scotts, Charmin — were all gone. But, you could get plenty of the store brand.

So, there you have it. Snow-induced milk purchases are a product of herd mentality — they’re psychological. Having milk — even if you dont drink it — is a security blanket that will keep you safe during a snowstorm. At least, that’s what we think.