An Open Letter to Our Nation's Politicians

Dear idiots:

Could you please stop it? No, seriously, cut it out. I'm so sick and tired of seeing ad after ad on my TV blasting one candidate after another. I'm tired of the different voices that they use: the "I can't believe this candidate is so silly to think we won't notice all of his faults" voice; the "If I talk to you very slowly, perhaps you'll get the gravity of what I'm saying to you about how evil this person and their ideas are" voice; and, my personal favorite, the "If we speak to you [you] with an over-lapping echo [echo] in every sentence [sentence] - or perhaps every noun [noun] - we [we] will get our point [point] across." The last one is best accomplished with a deep male voice echoed by a female voice on the alto side of pitch, for those of you aspiring ad executives in the audience [audience]. Sorry. I got caught up in the ad.

Stop all of these ads that say nothing about you and only bad things about your opponent. It seems as though every ad for an incumbent is talking about how you've "gone Washington." This makes me wonder how people in Seattle respond to this. ("Add the 'D.C.'! Add the 'D.C.'!") Simultaniously, I wonder what the ads in the District of Columbia say about the incumbents. ("Looks like Bill Doberman has gone mid-west!") I don't care what your opinion of your opponent is. I want to know where you stand on issues. That's really it. The best part about it is when an attack ad is chastising the opposing candidate for running attack ads. It's like two dogs chasing each others' tails. You know one of them will eventually "win," but both end up looking completely foolish in the process.

The only thing, in my opinion that these ads actually accomplish is completely demotivating the moderates from voting so that the entire election will not be decided by the voice of the majority, but by the voice of which side has more zealots. Or at the very least, more zealous cheaters. Is that what we want the country to become? Everyone complains about the corruption in Washington ("Add the 'D.C.'! Add the 'D.C.'!"), but no one seems to want to do anything about it. The American public doesn't want to vote. I believe that it's due in part to these ads that make all of you look evil, but there's no one who's not evil on the ballot.

One of the things that I've noticed about these ads is that they're really starting to target one of the main voting demographics: the elderly. So many of the ads are talking about how their Social Security will be threatened by this candidate or that one, or that they won't be able to get their medications, or that immigrants will help the terrorists keep them from being able to watch Wheel of Fortune.

Part of the problem with all of you candidates, for whatever office, is that you want to be there. You want to be part of the culture that is constantly giving yourselves pay raises. It doesn't matter on which side of the aisle you're found. One side had a president that lied to the American people and literally made the statement, "It depends on what the meaning of the word 'is' is." The other side is currently dealing with a scandal about a congressman propositioning former congressional pages. The fact of the matter is that you want to be there. I want one of you to run a campaign in which you say some positive things about your opponent and have the guts to have your ads focus only on your qualifications, what you bring to the table and where you stand on the issues. Even if I disagree with you on the issues, at least you'd have my respect, which is significantly more than any of the present-day candidates have.

Here's my solution: Until such time as I am old enough to run for president (slogan: "Hey, he's better than what we've got. We hope."), I'm going to be voting randomly for candidates. This way, while we will still have people who want to be in office, at least you will be randomly selected. Am I serious about this? No, but it helped to vent a bit.

So, there you have it. This is my letter, my plea, my challenge to you, the politicians of this nation: run a positive campaign. Stop deluging us with ads, especially the silly echo [echo] commercials [commercials].

Sincerely,

Jeff Kamp
Registered Voter

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Sleepus Interruptus

It had the beginnings of such a good night's sleep. We had gone to bed at ten. I had actually gone to bed at the same time as my wife, which has been a rarity since the baby was born. We talked for a bit. We cuddled for a while, and then I rolled over and went to sleep. Let me tell you, I went out cold. I was dead to the world. I don't think I was even having a dream at all. It would have been so fantastic to wake up with about eight ours of sleep under my eyelids. However, it was not to be. Around three a.m. I heard some people talking outside. Now, one would think that when you're outside in the wee hours in a neighborhood that's quiet, you would talk fairly quietly as well. They weren't. They were talking in their normal voices, chatting away. And we do live in a quiet neighborhood, except for the occasional toilet-papering across the street, lover's quarrel next door or the birthday party involving explosives across the yard. Being the non-confrontational guy that I am, I was hoping they were just walking by and things would quiet down again so I could get back to being dead to the world. They didn't move on. In fact, I heard a dog out there with them too. Another noise to annoy. I thought about all of the things that I should say: "Hey guys, some of us have to work in the morning." or the ever popular "Shut it!" I got out of bed, fumbled my glasses into place and looked out of the blinds. It wasn't just Mr. Random Person and friend. It was a couple of police officers. Their car was parked across my driveway. The lights weren't on, we had heard no sirens, but they were there with a German Shepherd. My wife made the comment that it was the second time they had been outside our window and earlier they had mentioned something about "checking around some houses." Normally, I'm not a very nervous person, but when I start thinking about the possibility of my home being invaded, I start asking quite a few questions:

"Did I shut the garage door after getting back from Un-named Fastfood Place?"

"The backdoor was locked, right?"

"I know I shut the window in front before heading to bed, but did I shut the one on the side of the house?"

"Did I leave the iron on?"

So, there I lay, asking these questions and straining my ears to hear anything that might possibly be out of order while cursing the likes of Pearl Jam and Nirvana for making me listen to their music so loudly that my hearing is shot. Regretting the fact that I didn't have any sort of heavy object with which to thwack an intruder. Finally, after an hour, I went downstairs and I read for a bit (after checking to make sure everything was in order). A half hour after that, it was, as it usually is about that time, 4:30. I figured it was time for me to try falling asleep again, the night's potential for good sleep already ruined. The story really ends uninterestingly, as most of mine do. Hey, I've made it nearly 30 years without having an interesting ending. Why start now? I got up, showered, ate my bowl of cereal, and I'm heading off to work in a minute. Maybe I'll swing by someplace and buy a bat. A bat just right for thwacking.

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Da Mihi Somnum

Once again, gentle reader, it is time for our weekly (or, with me at the helm, sometimes weekly) convivium. This week, I find myself in deep contemplation over the most fascinating effects of extreme sleep deprivation. I have come to know (in that intimate sense implied, for example, in the Authorized Version's use of the verb to know--that is, to come to know something on a deeply personal level through one's own experience of something) that one does not actually see everything that is present in the world around us unless one's senses have been enhanced by the natural processes of sleep deprivation. This is the case even with those things that directly affect our own selves. It is only as sleep deprivation truly begins to take hold that we begin to experience full reality. Allow me to explain, although Gilligan was an idiot.

I was forced (at gunpoint) last night to remain functioning far later into the night than has become customary for my ancient self, for I had tests to grade. I therefore didn't actually arrive home from my second round at the office until after 3:30 a.m. Now, in and of itself, this is not a particularly remarkable occurrence; however, this occurrence was not "in and of itself." It should have been. It could have been (at least on some ideal little world existing nowhere but in my mind). But it wasn't. As a matter of fact, after I got home last night, I had to (by which I mean "chose to") stay up until after 5:30 in the morning due to the fact that my youngest son decided it was a most smashingly marvelous night in which to lie awake all night long regaling the household and, indeed, the entire metropolitan area with the melodious rhythms of his piercing scream. I don't think I've ever heard such a broad octaval range reached by any one person since the days of Pavoratti. Oh, wait. Pavoratti is still around. Hey, maybe it's not all bad after all. Maybe I've got the next Pavoratti on my hands here. I could live with that (provided, of course, that my son remembered the horrifying nights endured by his loving parents with large cash settlements). As I was saying, my son decided 3:30 a.m. was the most perfectly suited time in which to exercise his young lungs. Since my wife deals with the little stinker all day, and since I generally sleep like the dead and so she deals with him all night, and (truth be told) since the night was pretty well shot anyway as I had to be getting up by about 5 a.m., I most generously offered to take him out of the bedroom so my wife could pretend to sleep. What a great guy. Sometimes I even amaze myself. Webster is like that, too.

Well, when I had been pacing with the little fire siren for about forty-five minutes, I believe I finally entered the state of genuine conscious awareness of all levels of reality (or at least of one extra level of reality). What prompted this little realization, you ask? At the very least, I'm sure that you now wish that you had thought to ask it. Kicking yourself now, aren't you? Anyway, what prompted this realization was the fact that for the first time in my life I saw Them. Well, They had to have at least been related to Them; maybe They were Him or Us, but at the least there was some connection there. I've seen my track record with statements like this, and I figure I'm about due for a hit one of these days, so I'll stick by my deduction. For the sake of convenience, and since no one in the office here has successfully managed (or even attempted...or even cared) to contradict my initial analysis, I will call them Little Green Devils. No, that's too long. I'll call them LGD (as in Mr. T). No, italicizing is too difficult. I'll call them simply "LGD." I wonder how many pseudo-grammarians are going to wade into this discussion in an effort to correct my punctuation and formatting. Probably none, considering I am slowly becoming more and more convinced that I am the only one foolish enough to actually stoop to reading my material. That's o.k., though. I'm not bitter. I'll just crawl back to my cry-hole for another round. Thanks a lot. Now I have to take a break. Maybe the A-Team can fill some space here.

Well, last night, as I was saying, I saw LGD for the first time, and man, were they uuuuuuggggggggglllllllllllllllllyyyyyyyyyy. Squat little bodies, pointed green ears, sickeningly luminescent yellow saliva, long red fangs, hairy prickles in the oddest places, black eye whites and hot pink irises. You name it, and if it's ugly, they had it. Worst of all were the thick, cracked fingernails--long and sharp, too. Something like Lloyd Christmas's toenails in Dumb and Dumber. When LGD started pouring out of the walls (literally--they came out a liquid and then solidified on the floor) and streaming towards me and my son, who was still doing his best imitation of an infant banshee, I realized it was time to take matters into my own hands. Luckily, I always keep two swords strapped to my back. Equally luckily, my wife had just shaved my head that morning, so I looked sexy, too. Equally equally luckily, my son, who is after all nine months, like all babies of his age, is fully capable of holding onto a rapidly twirling, dodging, dipping, slashing, parrying, sweeping, vacuuming, dusting, toilet cleaning maniac all by his little lonesome self. Oh, and he provided the John Williams soundtrack to the whole affair. Never have I moved so well or so fast. LGDs started losing limbs and heads left and right. They are vicious little devils (no pun intended) and put up a good fight...but not good enough for one who has earned the heron-marked blade. That was for you, Kamp. I grunted as only Monica Seles can. That helped. I know it did. At least it distracted them. In less than five seconds, I was sweating more than most people sweat in a year. The curse of being me, I guess. In less than five minutes, I had the LGD on the run. Good thing my family has me to protect them, I guess. I actually managed to escape the whole fight with only one small wound on my shin, delivered by the jagged fangs of one of the LGD, I'm sure. Or maybe it was when I cracked my shin on the end table. I forget, so I'll go with the more glorious story. Regardless, victory was mine. Barney Fife was always one of my favorites.

Just think: without sleep deprivation, this whole sinister world would have continued to go unnoticed. Maybe now the school will understand why I have to have swords strapped to my back. Maybe now I will begin to get some respect. Maybe now people will believe me when I talk about LGD. Maybe pigs will soon fly. Maybe I'll finally figure out how they became the Brady Bunch. Hey, it's possible.

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Common Akwardness

There is a guy at my work who for the duration of this article will remain nameless. Why don't I want to mention his name? Well, it's partially due to wanting to allow him to remain anonymous since he didn't ask to be written about. I respect anyone's desire to remain anonymous as much as they can. It's also mainly due to the fact that I don't know his name. This is the crux of my current issue. Somehow, in the two years that I've worked at my current place of employment, we've gotten into the habit, when we pass each other in the hall, to nod a greeting and say, "Hey." This isn't in and of itself a bad thing. It would seem to be common courtesy to greet someone that you know. The problem, however, is the fact that I don't know this gentleman as evidenced by the fact that I couldn't tell you his name if you offered me a million dollars and a trip to the San Diego Comic Con. It's gotten to the point where it's just rather awkward for me. I don't know him, yet I feel obligated to greet him. I'm not sure what to do at this point. It would be very rude to always look like I'm deep in thought and just avoid eye contact. I can't just avoid the guy in the hall all the time. He has the cubical next to a guy on my team with whom I collaborate quite frequently. I've thought about going up to him one day and just introducing myself. "Hi. My name is Jeff and we've been nodding to each other for months now, and I thought we should probably get to know each others' names." Really, when it comes right down to it, I don't have the guts to do something like that. I don't know why. Maybe it's the fact that I'm a very shy man. I'll wait a moment while those of you who know me stop laughing. Done? Okay.

It actually is true that I am rather reserved in certain circumstances. For instance, whenever I call in to a radio show (it's happened twice), I get very nervous. It's not that I can't speak in public; I actually consider myself a rather good public speaker. For some reason, in that specific case, I get nervous. Such is the case with my nameless co-worker. I'm not able to bring myself just to go beyond our awkward "comfort zone" of nodding and saying "Hey." I wonder if he feels the same way. I wonder if he's sitting somewhere writing a blog posting about the idiot at his work who hasn't said anything more than "Hey" for months, and he's dying a bit inside each day because no one will go beyond the monosyllabic with him. Just to reach out and be a friend. His mood today: melancholy.

I probably should just go for it and introduce myself, but I fall back on and take comfort in the fact that he hasn't yet either. Why does common courtesy have to be so uncomfortable? *Sigh*

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Choices

Well, gentle reader, after a two-week hiatus, caused largely by my own inability to manage time effectively (Yes, it's true. I know you're thinking "But Mr. Frederick, sir, how is it possible that you are not magnificent at everything to which you put your mind?" Of course, the answer to that is that I am great at everything to which I put my mind. I simply did not adequately bring that tremendous ability to bear in the recent situation...), I am back. "At last," I can hear you saying. "I don't know how my life could have continued without being able to waste hours of my time reading Frederick's drivel. So, what does he have for me this week?" I'm glad you asked that question.

Every day, we all make countless choices that impact our days (and sometimes our lives) to a greater or lesser extent. Clearly, some of these choices are completely irrelevant to most of the people around us, while others are not. A prime example of the former is the choice most of us must make relatively early in the morning--for some, before we break the night's fast, while for others it is after that breaking. Of course, I am referring to whether or not we take a shower on a given day. Obviously, this choice affects no one but ourselves. This is clearly exemplified by the "gentleman" who decided to sit two seats behind me on the city bus the other day. He was dressed in a suit and tie and was carrying a briefcase; further he was reading the Wall Street Journal. A businessman? Most likely. Apparently, this particular individual was a member of that social strata that feels it is historically, culturally, legally, and biblically required to think less of anyone not so stratified. Equally apparently, the particular social strata to which he belonged--and, perhaps more importantly, his job--required that he not shower in the morning. What was it that enabled me to deduce this particular truth, you ask? Well, apart from the fact that he was so...odiferous that he nearly blew my socks off my feet when he walked past...nothing. Oh, wait. There was something else, although I didn't realize it until I had once again regained consciousness. When my mental faculties were once again working at something vaguely resembling normal (by which I mean that I was mentally capable of once again doing anything, provided the anything in question was focusing on the powerful stench emanating from some as yet "unidentified source" in some "vague locale" behind me), I became aware of a periodically repeating sound that reminded me for some weird (It's more than strange...it's weeeeiiiiird.) reason of someone fighting a doomed battle to keep his (or, in this case, her) last meal in a place where it could at least pretend to nourish the body. So I guess there were two reasons for my deductions regarding the gentleman's morning routine.

Well, as I'm sure you'd like to know, my tremendous mental capabilities finally arrived at the conclusion that, in addition to earning incalculable infrequent shower miles, this gentleman must also enjoy frequently inviting the oh-so-scrumptious caloric companion that I like to call sauerkraut to his repasts. I mean, really, who wouldn't love adding mostly rotten cabbage to one's meals? In a stroke of sheer genius, I grounded this deduction upon the fact that the toxic fumes which were so close to repeatedly robbing me of conscious thought--not to mention the minor luxury generally dubbed "breathable air"--were remarkably similar in their odiferous characteristics to that stagnant pile of rotting vegetable. Indeed, I believe the United States military could have employed this individual as a WMD (or "Weapon of Mass Destruction" for those of you who have been living in a dark and lonely cave for the last few years). I happen to know for a personal fact that the currently reigning king of the flies regards this gentleman as a national treasure, since he and his immediate environment--that is, any place within a three-and-one-half mile radius of him--provides his people with bountiful housing and economic opportunities. And these opportunities show no signs of evaporating any time soon. Clearly, showering is a choice which affects only the individual in question.

What is the point of all of this, you ask? Why do you care about a random individual to whose presence I have been subjected on only one occasion? Well, at least why do you care other than the fact that it was I who was affected? The point is, quite simply, this: the choices we make very often both shape and define who we are; what is more, the choices we make very often have a lasting impact, whether positive or negative, on others, and especially on those who are near and dear to our hearts. How often do I catch myself making hubristically selfish choices about how to spend my time--even choices that are ostensibly for the well-being of my family? How often am I "too tired" or "too busy" to spend time with my kids? How often do I begrudge the time I spend with my family, frustrated that I am not during that time working towards occupational advancement (ostensibly to benefit my family)? How often is that time spent with only half of my mind on the "here-and-now" (o.k., o.k.--a quarter of it, since only half is in general use anyway)? How often do I do these things, and then say that they are done "for the good of the family"? How often "must" and do I justify what I am currently doing, when it steals more time from my family than I will ever be able to redeem? Far more often than I would care to admit. At what point do the activities of daily life--even the necessary and good activities--at what point do these activities need to be put aside in order to do what is truly important? Why can I not get it through my fat-coated brain that family is more important than anything but God, even if it means that certain aspects of my "real" life suffer? Why is it that I so often seem to think that I am the most important being in the universe? Wretched man that I am! Who will set me free from the body of this death? (Rom. 7:24 [NASB])

With my penchant for screwing things up...and overreacting to minor situations...and being an all-around poophead, perhaps it is better that my kids don't see me any more than they do. Regardless, it doesn't change the fact that I have few regrets so great as the fact that I have yet to see a first step, I have yet to hear a first word, I have yet to...well, I have yet to experience much of what makes life with young children that time of life that is among the best we can ever experience. And, God help me, all of which I sometimes seem capable is to screw up their young selves. Oh, wretched man, indeed. Where is the hope? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! (Rom. 7:25 [NASB]) Thanks be to Him, both for the salvation He has wrought for and in me and for His care for my children and my wife. There is no one more capable.

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So, It's a Date?

Trust me, the title will make sense in a little bit.

Knowing what I do about the computer industry (being a professional geek and all), I know that one shouldn't necessarily fall into the trap of always waiting for the "next big thing" before making a computer purchase. After all, there's always something that will be coming soon that will make what you currently have obsolete. As Weird Al said, "You say your laptops a week old? Well, that's great if you could use a nice heavy paper weight." And sometimes, it feels like this simply because the hardware improvements are coming so fast that what you get today does become old news in a big hurry. That's just the nature of the beast. That being said, I shall now start to rant.

As I've mentioned previously, my next computer is most likely going to be a Mac. More specifically, I'm going to get a MacBook laptop. I'm hoping to be able to save up enough for the MacBook Pro, but I think I'm starting to see that as being out of reach for me. I think I'm okay with that, but haven't completely decided yet. I'll let you know. Part of the reason that I'm able to be so serious about actually getting a laptop at some point in the foreseeable future is that my wife said I can. The trade-off is that I can't complain about her getting a dog when she wants to. A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.

There are a couple of things that I want to have happen before I actually take the plunge and purchase my long-anticipated new computer. For one, I want to wait until the latest version of Apple's OS X (Leopard) is released. That way I have the latest and greatest software on the computer instead of having an upgrade cost not long after purchasing the computer. Also, there's the fact that the new version of the operating system will have cool features like virtual desktops. I became addicted to having multiple virtual desktops while I was going to school and used Linux for the first time. I'm something of a windows (notice the lower-case "w") pack-rat in the sense that I really don't like to close a window that I have open. As such, I usually end up with way more windows on my screen than I probably need. The virtual desktops allow me to have different tasks allocated to different work spaces. In one I have my email program running. In another, I have my web browser, and in a third I have all the windows I need for writing the program on which I'm working. It's a feature that I think I'll appreciate in Leopard. The other upgrade that I'm waiting for is for the MacBooks to go to the latest Intel chip, the Core 2 Duo. The Core's are supposed to be one of the biggest upgrades in performance that people have seen in a while in a chip. Another big plus is that, supposedly, their heat output is much lower. This is important since excessive heat can really kill the length of your CPU's life--and there's also the fact that one of the biggest complaints people have had about the new MacBooks is that the bottoms get very, very hot. This makes having a cooler-running chip very nice. So, that's what I'm waiting on.

Now, however, we come to the problem: I have no idea how long I'm going to have to wait. Apple put the Core 2's into the iMac line fairly soon after the new chips were available for shipping. Still no word on getting them into the laptops. You know that they will be going into the laptops, but we have no idea as to when this will occur. This is also the problem with the latest version of OS X. It's very hard to plan for a purchase when you have no idea when the thing you want to purchase will be available from the manufacturer. Apple seems to want to have a gigantic pomp and circumstance surrounding every announcement, no matter how minor. It has to be some large event for everyone to "ooh" and "aah" over and, seemingly, boost Steve Jobs's ego. Also, so Jobs can turn around with that special twinkle in his eye and say, "One more thing" before revealing some other little tidbit of information. They seem to forget that people (well, people as in me) don't care how the information is presented, just that we have something to look forward to. Every year, I know when I'm going to have a birthday. Every year, I know when Christmas is going to arrive. I may not know the exact particulars of what I'm going to get for each, but I know the when aspect. This is what annoys me with how Apple handles their information. All we know about the new version of OS X is that it will come sometime in the "Spring." That's it. Meanwhile, we don't even know that much about the new chips being placed in the MacBooks. As far as I have seen, Mac has said nothing about it. I don't care if I know all of the particulars concerning about how the MacBooks will preform with the new chips. I just need to know that it'll be better and when I can expect it. I don't need to know everything about all of the new features of Leopard. I just need to know when I will be able to get it. Is that so much to ask?

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Indisputable Visual Evidence

We are currently four weeks into this bright NFL season. That means some of the teams are 1/4 of the way through their seasons if they haven't had a bye week already (if they had, it's completely ridiculous, but that's just me). Now looks like a good time to review my preseason predictions, and find out just how much of a load of hoohah they really are. If you want to read the original articles, here they are: AFC, NFC, Postseason.

AFC East (My Predictions)

1. Miami
2. New England
3. NY Jets
4. Buffalo

AFC East (Actual)

1. New England (3-1)
2. Buffalo (2-2)
3. NY Jets (2-2)
4. Miami (1-3)

New England once again is proving detractors wrong and showing that they can win football games even without the presence of actual talent on their team. If you were wondering what that sound was, it's Bill Belichek's ego growing. So far, I'm way off on Miami, as apparently Nick Saban has been bit by the stupid bug, and decided that throwing almost 75% of the time with a shaky QB is way better than utilizing your running game, which features one of the ten best backs in the game. Buffalo and the Jets look feisty, which I correctly predicted.

AFC North (My Predictions)

1. Baltimore
2. Pittsburgh
3. Cincinnati
4. Cleveland

AFC North (Actual)

1. Baltimore (4-0)
2. Cincinnati (3-1)
3. Pittsburgh (1-2)
4. Cleveland (1-3)

I'm feeling pretty good about the Baltimore pick right now. Pittsburgh looks dead in the water, and will be if they don't get Roethlisberger on track. Cincinnati is probably better than I gave them credit for, but they looked absolutely terrible against the Pats last weekend, so they may be cracking.

AFC South (My Predictions)

1. Indianapolis
2. Jacksonville
3. Tennessee
4. Houston

AFC South (Actual)

1. Indianapolis (4-0)
2. Jacksonville (2-2)
3. Houston (1-3)
4. Tennessee (0-4)

I pretty much have this one nailed so far, although in everyone else's defense, this might be the easiest division in the league to pick. Some things I'd like to point out: I said that the Jags would have a tendency to put up too many brain farts to take the division, and that's exactly what they've done in their two losses so far, losing to the Colts and Redskins in what were very winnable games. I realize that I have Houston and Tennessee flip-flopped, but if Vince Young starts to mature, he could win some games for the Titans Michael Vick style, while the Texans really have no hope if David Carr suddenly stops doing his Jim Kelly impersonation.

AFC West (My Predictions)

1. San Diego
2. Denver
3. Kansas City
4. Oakland

AFC West (Actual)

1. Denver (2-1)
2. San Diego (2-1)
3. Kansas City (1-2)
4. Oakland (0-3)

I'm happy with the way this has gone so far, as well. Jake Plummer hasn't been as terrible as I may or may not have predicted him to be, but he hasn't been good enough to stop the Jay Cutler rumblings in Denver yet. If Marty Schottenheimer ever gives Phillip Rivers the reins in San Diego, the Bolts will be very good. Randy Moss has already quit on Art Shell.

NFC East (My Predictions)

1. NY Giants
2. Dallas
3. Washington
4. Philadelphia

NFC East (Actual)

1. Philadelphia (3-1)
2. Dallas (2-1)
3. Washington (2-2)
4. NY Giants (1-2)

So far, I was way off on the Eagles. Donovan McNabb has looked terrific. Donte Stallworth has been what the Eagles have been missing at receiver for the last few years. Brian Westbrook has been amazing when healthy. The defense has been better than advertised. I'm not trying to puff myself up, but if any two of those above statements stop working for Philly, they are done. They already showed that they can lose a winnable game with that horrific collapse in New York. I'm not ready to anoint them NFC Champs just yet.

NFC North (My Predictions)

1. Detroit
2. Minnesota
3. Chicago
4. Green Bay

NFC North (Actual)

1. Chicago (4-0)
2. Minnesota (2-2)
3. Green Bay (1-3)
4. Detroit (0-4)

Yep. 'Nuff said. Ouch. Since the Bears are the new media darlings in the NFL, that pretty much guarantees that they won't be in the Super Bowl. Here's why: Rex Grossman is bound to get hurt sooner or later. Brian Griese has no chance at playing anywhere near the level Rex has all season, and they didn't really get their running game going until week 4 against the Seahawks. This team is primed to fall apart at some point or other, and I'm going to stick to my guns with them. I freely admit that I was completely wrong about Detroit. Kitna looks like nothing more than a caretaker QB, and that defense has been awful.

NFC South (My Predictions)

1. Tampa Bay
2. Carolina
3. Atlanta
4. New Orleans

NFC South (Actual)

1. Atlanta (3-1)
2. New Orleans (3-1)
3. Carolina (2-2)
4. Tampa Bay (0-3)

So far, not so good on this one. The Falcons still might be an 8-8 team, but that doesn't look like it'll be a major problem in this division. New Orleans has come out of nowhere, and that's even without a really substantial contribution by Reggie Bush. Once he takes off, this team could be really fun to watch. I feel bad for Tampa Bay--losing a QB like Chris Simms is never easy. Not to say that Simms was a world-beater when he was in there, because they were playing poorly with him in the lineup, but he was the team leader and now they have Bruce Gradkowski starting.

NFC West (My Predictions)

1. Seattle
2. St. Louis
3. Arizona
4. San Francisco

NFC West (Actual)

1. Seattle (3-1)
2. St. Louis (3-1)
3. Arizona (1-3)
4. San Francisco (1-3)

Woo Hoo! Don't see the order changing much during the season, just the records. The Cards and Niners could be rotating all year long, as Matt Leinert deals with not having an O-Line and Frank Gore deals with not being able to hold infants because the parents are afraid he'll drop them.

Well, that's about it. I'm gonna stay the course on these picks, because unlike ESPN, I believe that there are still 13 weeks of football left, and that's plenty of time for teams to screw up a good thing and to improve upon a bad thing. Unless you're Detroit. Then you're done.

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Drama Do and Drama Don't

At the time of this writing, my lovely wife and I just finished watching the second episode of Heroes. My opinion of the show is still a bit up in the air. Either I'm going to love it because it's taken the concept of ordinary people gaining extraordinary powers from the pages of the comic book and brought it into the realm of the serialized television show, or I'm going to hate it because they've presented it in such a way as to make it unacceptable to my wife and therefore I won't be able to watch it either. Such is life. However, that's not the reason for this article. One thing I realized as we were watching the show is that I seem to know a lot more about what to do in certain situations than any character I've ever seen in a dramatic TV show. I find myself talking to the TV screen telling the character exactly what they should and should not do. I'm always right, but they never listen. Therefore, I'm going to do every dramatic television show and movie character a huge favor and provide them with a small set of do's and don'ts as it applies to their "everyday" life.

• Do carry an extra set of clothes. Most likely, you're going to be kidnapped or have to hide in a sewer or something along those lines and you'll want to have a dry/clean set in the near future. Trust me on this. This also reminds me that you might be gone for a while, so be sure to feed the cat/dog/fish/younger sibling.
  
• Don't have loud, bright or sparkly clothing as either your primary or secondary set of clothing. As stated above, you'll most likely have to be hiding at some point. This means that you won't want people to see you. Sparkles might look fantastic when you're out with your friends in the sunshine, but they're a severe fashion faux pas when you're huddling in the closet.
• Do have a fully-charged cell phone with you at all times. You'll need to call someone at a climatic moment and you'll want to make sure that your phone has enough juice to make that call. The phone would preferably be one that people can home in on through some form of GPS system. Unless the people who are after you are the government or some form of shadow agency. In that case, this becomes a don't.
• Don't pick up a gun that you've found lying on the ground. Especially if it's right next to a fresh pool of blood. Picking up the gun means that within seconds, law-enforcement officials will come crashing through the door and see you with a gun next to or near a dead body. This is never a good thing. You do, however, have the defense to fall back on of being able to test and see if you've fired a gun recently (leaves some powder on your hand). That won't work if a buddy asked you to go skeet shooting with him earlier in the day. This, by the way, is also a tell-tale sign that your friend is the one that did it.
• Do stay with the group. Granted, this is mainly a piece of advice for a character in a horror/slasher flick, but it works here too. If you're always with the group, then you always have an alibi for your whereabouts.
• Don't make a video about your emerging powers, cool treasure find or scientific discovery. That's just asking for the tape to fall into the wrong hands and you'll find yourself in a world of trouble.
• Do ask for a lawyer. You're going to say something stupid. It always happens. Just ask for a lawyer right away because they know when not to say something. Which is most of the time, really.
• Don't pretend to be someone that you're really not. They're going to ask you for the password/fingerprint/secret blend of herbs and spices and you're not going to know. It might get you out of hot water for a few minutes, but in the long run, you'll just make everything that much more painful for you.
• Do check the safety on the gun before making your presence known to the bad guy. This is especially true if you're a novice with the gun. They're going to say that the safety's on and you're going to look and they'll dodge behind a loved one unless you make sure to check it first. Don't say I didn't warn you.
• Don't believe that they're not going to hurt you. That's pretty much guaranteeing that they are going to hurt you. It's like the Opposite Zone in Calvin Ball for these people.

So, there you have it - my list of do's and don'ts if you happen to find yourself as a character in some form of dramatic media. I can't say that it's a complete list or, for that matter, an accurate list, but it's the list that I pulled out of my butt. Hope you enjoyed it. The list, not my butt.

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