I thought I still had it

I thought I still had it - the charm, the wit, the charisma ... IT. Granted, some would argue that I never had IT to begin with, but those people are just big stupid heads. (See, there's that wit.)

Saturday morning, it was raining here in the Austin area, and it looked like another one of my team's soccer games was going to be cancelled. However, the soccer association wasn't going to make the decision until game time (9:00 AM), so I was standing by the gate and passing on the game status to the players as they got there. It was still cold and rainy, so I was dressed in a loose pair of sweats and holding my umbrella ... not exactly dressed for the town.

A van from one of the local radio stations was parked by the gate, and I assumed that they had planned on doing a remote from the soccer fields that day, but the weather wasn't cooperating. Inside the van were two very attractive women, possibly DJs for all I know. As I was standing there, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that the ladies were smiling in my direction. Apparently, they couldn't get enough of this medium-sized drink of man. Or so I thought.

After the game was finally cancelled, I met some of the parents for some breakfast tacos. During the meal, I got a phone call on my cell, so I stepped away from the table briefly. After the call, I sat back down at the table, and my friend Amie brought clarity to why I was getting so much attention earlier that morning. Amie said to me, "Do you know you have a dryer sheet stuck to your butt?"

Oh well, at least my fly wasn't down.

My brush with celebrity

To give some perspective to the following story, I don't watch any reality shows. Well, not since the first couple of seasons of the Real World 10+ years ago. In my opinion, "reality show" is a misnomer anyway. How real can someone be when they're being followed around by TV cameras? Plus, I think most people on those shows are just wannabe actors trying to catch a break, so how "normal" and "real" can they be? And if these shows are so real and unscripted, how come they have writers listed in the credits? As for the reality matchmaking shows, how true of a love can you hope to find in a contrived situation crunched into a 2-3 week courtship? Gee, how surprising is it that only one of those shows has ended up in marriage, and I'll be shocked if that one lasts more than 2 years.

That being said, last Monday I attended a viewing party for Average Joe 3. No, I haven't gone over to the dark side of reality show watchers. My friend Hollie was one of the hosts, and part of the evening involved auctioning off one of the average Joe's from the first season (Joe Fabiani, for those that watched the show). The prize included a fabulous dinner for two at Al Biernat's in Dallas, and the proceeds were donated to the Fuzzy Wuzzy Orphanage, a no-kill shelter that rescues animals from other shelters in the Dallas/Ft. Worth before their time runs out. Joe, who is also in this season of Average Joe, was very nice and only slightly nervous about letting the ladies in the crowd bid on him. I volunteered myself to be auctioned off, but there were no takers. :)

Hollie met Joe because she was actually going to be on Average Joe 3. She was selected to be on it and had already started filming some parts for the show. She was dressed up and ready to go to the first elimination ceremony when the executives pulled her and 3 other girls from the cast. Apparently, the NBC lawyer was uncomfortable with the fact that Hollie had been involved in a hit and run accident over 10 years ago, eventhough she was the one hit. To cover their butts, they pulled the four girls from the show. Not only was she disappointed, but so was I (and aren't these posts always about me anyway). I told her before she left that when she became famous, I was going to tell everyone that we once dated, which was only a slight embellishment. After all, we did go on a blind date almost 15 years ago, and that particular event has the word "date" in it. Actually, it was a triple date with me, Ron, our best friend Greg, Hollie, her sister Crissy, and their cousin Michelle (who was our friend from back home). And with both me and Ron there, you can imagine how little talking anyone else got to do. But I digress.

Eventhough I can't brag about dating a celebrity, I did have fun that evening. I haven't been that close to a "celebrity" since that time I saw Samuel L. Jackson at a comic book store in Hollywood. I still remember that touching thing he said to my girlfriend's son: "No, I ain't no Denzel Washington!" (That's a true story, by the way.)

One other thing ... while Hollie was in LA, she filmed an infomercial with her friend Christine for an anti-wrinkle cream. It's supposed to start airing in the next week or so. Here's a picture of Hollie and me at Monday's event (http://donyoung.us/images/don_hollie.jpg), so if you see her face on the TV, you've probably stumbled upon her infomercial. If you see my face, you've probably stumbled upon an episode of Cops.


NOTE: You can send a donation to the animal rescue group at the following address:

Fuzzy Wuzzy Orphanage Animal Rescue
P.O. Box 531693
Grand Prairie, TX 75053-1693

There's always hope

Earlier today, I got a phone call from my friend Laura in Florida. She wanted to catch up and see how things were going with me. She told me about the fund raiser she organized for the deaf center (where she works), and I told her about the fund raiser I attended for the Williamson County Humane Society organized by my friend Shandell (who did an excellent job, I might add). I told her about the boys soccer team I coach winning their game on Saturday, and she told me about how her Party Lites stuff is going.

And then we discussed our families ... I didn't have much to report other than talking about my upcoming visit to Dallas next weekend to see my grandmother, who will be coming in from West Virginia to see her great-granddaughter and to celebrate mine and Ron's birthday (which is on Tuesday ... hint, hint). And then Laura told me about her mom ... On Saturday, Laura got an e-mail from her mother letting Laura know that she got married on Friday. For the ELEVENTH time. You've got to admire a woman who can find nine different guys willing to marry her. (She married two of the husbands twice each.) So, as I sit single on the brink of 36 (on Tuesday, in case you missed it the first time), Laura's mom reminded me that there's always hope. Well, she also reminded me that she might be a little on the crazy side.

Surprisingly enough, I'm reminded of a story. A couple of years ago, Laura attended a wedding in Ft. Worth. Since her husband was unable to fly in, I was called in as the backup date. Laura was helping with the wedding, so she was behind the scenes making sure things went smoothly. Laura's mom and I sat together during the ceremony. Near the end, we were discussing the service, and she told me she thought it was a beautiful ceremony and that it reminded her of her wedding. To which I replied, "Which one?" :)

Busy, busy week

Wow, it has really been a busy week for me. My company is trying to release a new version of our product, and during the last few weeks of any software development cycle, the QA people (that would be me) usually have to work a lot of hours trying to make sure there aren't any bugs before we ship. And that was exactly the case for me this past week. I spent several nights working some late hours. Not that I'm complaining ... it does put food on my table. Ok, I'm complaining a little. :)

I'm also doing a programming project for a friend's business venture, and he's been waiting for some code from me for several weeks. So I spent my entire Saturday working on that, and part of my Sunday, too. Other than walking the dog and checking my mail, I never got out of the house on Saturday. I'm still not quite done, but I'm much closer.

Oh, and one more thing. Did I mention that I got married today? Earlier, I went with my friends Shandell, Karen, Sinde, and Sinde's parents to see Beehive, a musical saluting the girl groups of the 60's. During one of the segments, one of the performers was dressed as Lesley Gore (who sang It's My Party, I'll Cry if I Want To). Apparently, "Lesley" was crying because her boyfriend left her for another girl (which is what It's My Party is about).

So, "Brenda Lee" and "Connie Francis" try to cheer her up by reminding her that there are other men in the sea. During Connie's rendition of Where the Boys Are, the ladies made their way through the audience trying to find Lesley a new man. They wanted to find her a decent man ... a stable man ... a real hunk, if you will. Unfortunately, they couldn't find that guy, so they chose me instead. And not so surprisingly (since it was part of the script), Lesley was so enamoured with me that she decided to marry me on the spot. Like that hasn't happened to me before. :)

While Lesley prepared backstage, the rest of the ladies sang Chapel of Love, pulled me onto the stage, and dressed me in a lovely white tuxedo jacket. I was then dragged through some choreography that I didn't quite pull off (I'm not a professional). Lesley arrived in her wedding dress, we did the wedding march, we exchanged vows and rings, I kissed the bride (on the cheek), we had cake, we posed for "pictures", and we marched around the stage while confetti was thrown on us by the audience along the stage. After our whirlwind wedding, I was taken back to my seat where I tried to get all the confetti out of my hair.

They didn't let me keep the jacket, but they did give me the picture they took after the vows. The picture quality of the Polaroid wasn't very good, but I did my best scanning it in. We look like such a happy couple. :)

http://donyoung.us/images/goin_to_the_chapel.jpg

Anyway, I hope I'm just as happy with my next wife, whoever she might be. She'll be arriving from Russia any day now. :)

My brother Ron is a PIG!

Having grown up a twin my whole life (and the 8-9 months preceding it), I sometimes forget that there are people who have only met one of us handsome devils. This weekend, I was up in Dallas to attend my friend Greg's graduation party. On Saturday, my date Deanna and I were heading to lunch, but I did a favor for my sister-in-law Chandra first. She was in charge of a car wash that their church youth group was having, so I stopped by to get my car washed and to make a donation.

I arrived and parked my car in line. Deanna and I got out, said hello to Chandra, and sat down in the shade in the chairs that were provided while Chandra was busy making sure the kids weren't goofing off too much, as kids sometimes do. I said hello to a couple of the kids I recognized from some of the previous church functions I attended, but I didn't know most of them, so we pretty much stayed sitting in the shade. And Chandra would occasionally stop by to chat when it wasn't too busy.

Although Ron and I are identical twins, we don't look as alike as we used to. His face has always been a little thinner than mine, but now that our hair isn't exactly cut the same and I have facial hair, people have no trouble telling us apart when we're standing next to each other. But apparently, some people have problems telling us apart when 1) we're not in the same place, and 2) they don't know Ron has a twin.

Chandra told me at dinner that night that after we left, some of the kids were upset with "Ron". First, they were upset because "Ron" and Chandra had apparently separated. And second, they were upset because "Ron" had the audacity to show up at the car wash with a hot date. And flaunting her in front of "his" wife ... how rude! They thought "Ron" was such a pig! I guess "he's" just that kind of guy. :)

Prologue: Yes, it was explained to the kids who I was, and that no, Ron was not there with a date. Ron wasn't even there. So perhaps for this one instance, Ron wasn't being a pig. This time.

Wall of Shame

My friend Mitsi e-mailed me some months ago. Her company (Procter and Gamble) in Cincinnati was having an 80's Wall of Shame contest, in which the employees were submitting pictures of themselves and others taken during the 80's. I had a digital copy of a picture of her and our friend Greg on their way to a high school dance, and she wanted to submit that one. I would post that photo, but I'm pretty sure Greg doesn't want it distributed, and I guess I'll be nice just this once. Mitsi also told me that she submitted the following photo that I was in with my brother and friends at our prom:

http://donyoung.us/images/youth/ssc.jpg

Well, this past week Mitsi informed me that our photo was named runner-up in the contest. Unfortunately, we weren't allowed to win since none of the people in the photo actually worked at P&G, but after hearing that the winner was a picture of a woman with big hair wearing MC Hammer pants, I knew runner-up was the best we could have hoped for. It's an honor I'll cherish for as long as I can remember, which at my age, won't be for much longer.

One final note ... the picture of Greg and Mitsi didn't win anything. In fact, Mitsi's coworkers thought she looked adorable in her big hair and polka-dot dress (that she made herself, by the way). However, they had a field day with Greg's Miami Vice suit, thin tie, and mullet. :)

Maybe I should grow my mullet again

Growing up in the 80's, I've always been a fan of the hair bands. I spent the high school and college years listening to Ratt, Motley Crue, Bon Jovi, Faster Pussycat, Cinderella, Slaughter, etc. And of course, I'll always have a special place in my heart for Poison since I met a girl during a college spring break because of one of their songs. She and I meant a lot to each other for the week that we were together ... hang on, I think I'm tearing up.

Ok, I'm better. Anyway, several weeks ago, I was out with some friends, and one of them (Damon) mentioned an upcoming concert that he was thinking of attending. I was the only one in the group proud enough to admit that I would be willing to go, for I had no shame, as I have demonstrated on many occasions. Plans were made, and tickets were later purchased.

We arrived at the concert and made our way to our seats in the nosebleed section. The opening act, Dokken, was already rockin' the house. You heard me ... Dokken! They played all the favorites (well, the ones I knew) and sounded good, but I can't comment on how they looked, since we were so far up.

After they finished their set, Damon and I snuck down to some floor-level seats, getting as close to the stage as we could. Finally, the second band, Whitesnake, kicked off their set. Again, they sang the "classics" which sounded great. David Coverdale still had the range, although he didn't looked like he had aged well. I noticed he was wearing baggy jeans instead of the traditional spandex. He did have the best line of the night though when he introduced a song with: "Here's another old one for you ... what am I saying? They're all old!"

And finally, the evening was capped off with a rousing performance by the headliners, the Scorpions. Most of the principle players were the same as during their heyday, with the only new people being the bass player and the drummer. The drummer rocked, by the way, during his obligatory extended solo. They finished their set, and encored with Winds of Change, Still Loving You, and Rock You Like a Hurricane.

My brother Ron and I had the Scorpions World Wide Live CD back in 1985, which was recorded live in San Diego. I noticed something similar between that concert and this one: for the most part, the only banter from the lead singer that I could understand was when he would say the name of the town. "Blah, blah, mumble, mumble, Austin, Texas!" I hope he wasn't saying anything important.

Damon took a few pictures during the concert, and I've included the links to a couple of them that I placed on my website. See if you can guess which one of us is wearing a wig.

• http://donyoung.us/images/scorpions.jpg
• http://donyoung.us/images/don_damon.jpg

Charity begins at home

I'm not the best of people. I've done SOME good things in my life, but I've done plenty of not-so-good things, too. I rarely (if ever) give money to street corner people because I think most of them are scam artists. I don't give to phone solicitors because I don't like being rushed into decisions and because I don't trust them. Sometimes, I can be slightly cynical. Slightly. :)

I've had the same sectional sofa for 12 years: two pieces, one being a queen-size sleeper. It's mostly a beige color with a pastel print. My brother Ron and I bought it a few months after we graduated college and moved to Dallas to work at IBM. When I was transferred to Austin, I got to bring it with me. It's followed me through several moves, it's had food spilled on it multiple times (no stains though), it's been slept on many times (a lot of those by me), it's helped me watch several hours of TV, and it has survived several evil cats. (It has the claw marks to prove it!) The couch has served me well.

After buying a new house, I bought some new furniture to go with it. The old sectional was just too big for my living room, and I wanted to go with some different colors. When the new couch arrived, the old one was stored in the garage, with a lot of boxes on top of it. However, I needed some room in the garage, so it was time to give the old one to charity.

I called the Salvation Army to come pick it up, since I don't have a truck to haul it around in. They gave me a nice four hour time window Saturday morning to sit around and wait, and they eventually showed up. The driver looks at the two pieces and within a few seconds, he says, "We can't accept these, they have claw marks." And I'm thinking, "No sh!t Sherlock, I've owned cats. Hello ... it's free!" It's not like they're not going to make a profit on the thing.

So apparently, the Salvation Army has an image to maintain, and my couch just doesn't cut the mustard. The couch worked for me, it could hold several adults, and it didn't stink (as far as I know). Maybe my furniture standards are lower than I thought. Oh well, I'll just give it to a battered woman's shelter or some other charity. I tried to do one nice thing this weekend. Maybe in a couple of years, I'll try to do another one. :)

Fourth of July

At the request of my friend Terri, I just got back from spending the Fourth with her and her family in Lubbock. Of course, most of you are probably wondering why anyone would want to spend the Fourth in Lubbock. Surprisingly, when I was there a couple of years ago, they had the best fireworks show I'd ever seen (and I've seen quite a few), so I had no problem with going again. I had planned on coming into town on Thurdsay, but a couple of Terri's daughters played the guilt card until I relented and drove in Wednesday (the 3rd) after work, so I was also in town for the parade Thursday morning. Terri's husband Tim was trying out his new digital camera and took lots of pictures, and I put a small subset of them on the website at:

http://donyoung.us/id2002/

Here's a couple of notes about Lubbock parades:

1. You pretty much just have to sign up in order to be in the parade. You don't really have to have an extravagant float. Heck, you don't even have to have ANY kind of float.
2. In Lubbock parades, you're going to see a lot of horses. And due to the potential messes that might occur, they have several street sweepers spaced throughout the parade. And they're smart enough not to put a marching band right after a set of horses, unlike some of the parades I was in growing up.

Of course, I do have one story to tell. On one of the evenings, Terri's friend Corrie was over with her 3 kids, so we played a game of Pictionary, kids included. Tim, Corrie's two sons, and I were on one of the teams. Courtland (the 6 year old) wanted a turn at drawing, but we were a little concerned that he wouldn't know the definitions of the clues. Well, in the course of trying to explain that to him, Tim accidentally upset Courtland and made him cry. Yes, Tim did eventually smooth things over with him, but not until after the game was over and we had suffered a humiliating defeat to a team of girls. We never could get Courtland off of the couch where he was pouting and rejoin the game.

I know, it doesn't seem like an upbeat story, but I have a couple of reasons for telling it: 1) it's nice for me to be able to tell a story about an adult making a kid cry in which I'm not the adult in question, and 2) Courtland provided my favorite sound bite from the weekend while he was on the couch. His mother was trying to convince him to play some more, and she mentioned that he seemed to be having fun earlier, so why not give it one more shot. Courtland replied that he was having fun, until "TIM RUINED IT ALL!" Again, I'm glad it wasn't me messing up this time.

The Chaperone

This past weekend, my friend Terri invited me to Lubbock to attend the birthday party and slumber party for her two oldest daughters, Taylen and Teagan. Here's a picture of Taylen holding up the "diamond-like" earrings I got her for her birthday:

http://donyoung.us/images/tntbday4.jpg

Since I stayed at their house and helped chaperone the slumber party (no, really!), I was there for the entire shindig. Here are a few highlights:

1. The party was attended by approximately 15 little girls (7-9 year olds). They can make a lot of noise, most of it being classified in the "squealing" category.
2. If you were a fan of N*Stink ... uh, I mean N*Sync ... you wouldn't be after hearing the same CD several dozen times during the evening. Luckily, I convinced them to turn it off by threatening to dance whenever it was on. Spastic dancing by adults tends to frighten small children.
3. In the picture above, Ashley is the little blond girl sitting on the floor. At one point in the evening, she told me she thought I was handsome. She immediately became my favorite.
4. Also in the picture above, Kimberly is the little brunette girl sitting on the table. After a fun-filled night of brownies, strawberry cupcakes, indoor hide-n-seek in the dark, singing, running around, lots and lots of squealing, and (in Kimberly's case) having your face jumped on by one of the cats while sleeping, Kimberly's little body could no longer contain her excitement, and she threw up. Multiple times. Not being familiar with the house, she didn't make it to the bathroom for the first batch and left her deposit in the hallway. The rest of it was in the bathroom, although she didn't always hit the toilet. :) Since Terri was occupied with consoling Kimberly and cleaning up the bathroom and her husband Tim was conveniently asleep, I got to clean up the hallway mess. And due to the aforementioned strawberry cupcakes, her vomit was pink. Let me just say this: if any of you invite me to a party any time soon, I'm not cleaning up any messes.