I Wish That Pitch Would Hit Flo Square in the Face

I sometimes think about how much time seemingly miniscule moments in our lives actually take up.  I'm not talking in terms of daily or weekly, but more in a way of compounding things over the course of a lifetime.  For example, let's say the average person spends 15 minutes commuting to and from work on a daily basis, or half an hour per day.  During any given workweek, the average person spends 2.5 hours just driving to and from work.  And over the course of a year, not counting two weeks of vacation, the average person spends 125 hours driving to and from work.  When you think about it, that doesn't really seem all that overwhelming.

But, when you begin to look at it in larger terms, it is much more difficult to wrap your head around it.  Let's say the average person spends 125 hours driving to and from work every year, and the average person works for 35 years.  Given those scenarios, the average person would spend 4,375 hours commuting to and from work, or just about 6 months of a lifetime.  And that's for a very conservative estimate.  When you look at it like that...It's a lot of wasted time.

We don't realize it as it is happening, and probably wouldn't even notice if we were fully aware, but our life seems to be filled with hundreds of thousands of wasted minutes and seconds.  I don't mean to be depressing, and I promise I am going somewhere with this, so just bear with me.

Think about commercials.  Actual research shows that the average American watches 4.5 hours of television every day.  For every 60 minutes of air time, there are roughly 15 minutes of advertisements, and that's assuming you keep the television parked on one channel the entire time.  So, if the average person views roughly 25,000 minutes worth of commercials every single year, it comes out to more than 17 days!  Imagine what we could do with that much extra time.

And of those 25,000 minutes of ads, 99.9% of them are complete and utter wastes of time.  Many of them irritate me to the point of genuine anger, and the .1% that is actually mildly entertaining offer only the most simplistic amusement.  They are completely pointless and waste my time.  At least most of them.

But one commercial I recently viewed literally made me sit down and think about it's artistic merit.  It made me reminisce.  It made me smile.  It made me feel.  We've grown so accustomed to commercials, that we essentially have become numb to them (see the stats above).  But every once in a while, one comes along and truly has a profound effect.

The spot opens abruptly with a batter swinging and missing a fastball.  We find ourselves immersed in the midst of a tightly-contested baseball game.  A night game.  The shot twirls behind the catcher and umpire, in one take, and we see the field spread out before us like the ocean at sunrise.  There is a light fog, like when the high temperature of a hot day begins plummeting with the setting sun, emanating from the ground, and when mixed with the pale lighting, it creates an ethereal glow.

The shot pans around the diamond, stopping for a few seconds at third, then left field, then shortstop, then center, picking up the familiar sounds of encouraging chatter mixed with strategic jargon.  "Back!" A base coach says, as the third baseman feints towards the runner at third.  "No doubles, no doubles," the shortstop says as he signals his outfielders.  The camera finally settles on the pitcher, who fires a quick throw to first in a failed pickoff attempt.  As the ball is returned, the second baseman and shortstop communicate, "Hey, let's roll it up here," and the second baseman hides his mouth with his glove, short mimicking back to him.  This is to communicate who covers second in the event the runner at first steals...A closed mouth means "I have the bag."  An open mouth means, "You have the bag."  In most cases, the fielder to the opposite field of the batter covers, but infielders have the discretion to change things up.  To the average observer, this fundamental communication goes unnoticed, and the fact a moment like that is caught, in a commercial, is simple perfection.

The camera finally spins back, and we find ourselves behind the pitcher, as he peers in toward his catcher.  He gets the sign he wants, nods in agreement and slowly comes set.  By this time, the rising volume of horns in the background has added an even deeper level of tension and anticipation, as we await the pitcher's delivery.  The camera pans around to the front, with a close-up view of the pitcher.  You can see the concentration in his face, feel the heaviness of the moment.  You see his eyes glance, ever-so-quickly, for one last check on the runner at first.  He locks back in on his target, and delivers, with an emphatic grunt.

But, we don't see what happens.  The screen cuts to black, and the words "Every pitch, every inning, every game, every season" flash, followed by the Dick's Sporting Goods logo.

As a baseball fan, and someone that grew up playing the game, there is a certain level of perfection to be found in that 60-second spot.  To anyone who doesn't play the game, and just enjoys it from the stands or their living room couch, most of those moments fade into obscurity within seconds, if they're ever noticed at all.  But, the beauty of it is that those actions are almost second-nature to any baseball player, and occur dozens of times every game.

I love how the entire 60 seconds is filmed in one continuous shot.  There are no discernible cuts, no flashy special effects.  No ridiculous jingles, or upcoming sale advertisement...Just the raw, unfiltered emotion that, as a player, you feel in those tense moments late in a close game.

That's what was so powerful for me.  It harkened back to countless spring and summer nights on the baseball field, where I learned what it takes to win.  I learned the self-discipline and drive it takes to be successful, at baseball or anything else.  I learned how it feels to strike out on a full count with the bases loaded and the tying run standing on third base.  I learned how to lose, and how to use those losses to improve.  "You got all that from a stupid commercial?" You might ask.  Yes...Yes I did.

So, while the vast majority of commercials do little more than piss me off (here's looking at you Flo), this one made me appreciate so many little things that I took for granted growing up.  It brought back emotions that I had almost forgotten.  And it did it all without really trying to sell me anything.  Now, that is a commercial I can appreciate.

If you haven't seen it, here's the commercial I am talking about:

Tracy Lawrence Knows a Thing or Two

May has always been one of my favorite months of the year.  The weather (usually) begins to warm to the point where you can really tell that summer is just around the corner.  Baseball season is in full swing, it marks the end of the school year, and the beginning of boating season.  Memorial Day is my second-favorite holiday, and is always a great way to kick off a summer full of cookouts and sunburns.  With blooming flowers dotting the landscape, and the deepening green of grass and trees, everything feels brand new.  Perhaps that is why my affinity for May is so strong: it is about new beginnings.  And in any situation where one thing ends and another begins (whether it's a season, the school year, or anything else), it is impossible not to look back and reflect on the events that just passed.

This time of year has always been a time for me to reflect on the year that was, and to look ahead toward the months to come.  When I was a student, I always looked forward to the summer ahead, that fun that would be had, and the trouble in which my friends and I would invariably find ourselves.  But, I'd also look back on the hundreds of memories we made in the school year we were leaving behind.  And, with each passing year, the time only added more memories and more responsibility, which made the longing for those "easier times" all the more intense.

Despite the fact I'm all grown up now, I still find myself doing the same thing I did in those days.  Perhaps it's the fact I'm a teacher now, so the month still marks the end of a school year.  Or maybe it's the fact that old habits die hard, and I just can't seem to shake that part of me, no matter how far removed I find myself from it.  In any event, I sit here now, looking back on the last 10 or 11 months, and am completely blown away at how markedly different things are now than they were last summer.

The elephant in the room, obviously, was my marrying Adrienne.  If there were ever a life-changing event, that's it, and I look back on that day with so much joy that, even seven months later, I can still feel my heart pounding with excitement.  It didn't take long to figure out I was going to marry Adrienne, but it was still an enormous change for the both of us.  An incredible and amazing change, but change nonetheless.  Regardless of how prepared for it you think you may be, the moment you say "I do," the life you had even earlier that morning is no longer the life you have afterward.  But, it is the best feeling in the world.

My best friend DJ and his wife Amanda gave birth to a beautiful baby boy just a few weeks ago.  Although the reality of it likely won't sink in until I finally meet the little guy, it's still really heavy to think about.  Not long after Adrienne and I moved into our place in Mt. Sterling, DJ and Amanda came to visit.  The last thing on any of our minds was a baby, in either case, and we spent the night playing cards and staying up entirely too late.  Just a couple of weeks later, at my bachelor party, DJ and I were lying in bed trying to get some semblance of rest before a long day on the lake, when he dropped this bomb on me.

"You still awake?" He said.
"Yeah...What's up?" I asked, expecting a funny story from earlier in the night that I might have missed, or, perhaps, a recent change at his job of which I had been unaware.
"Amanda's pregnant," he said, rather matter-of-factly, given the circumstances.
I sat there for a moment, completely stunned, and unsure of what to say next.  "Are you serious?" I said, as if he had just told me Santa's sleigh had been spotted over Chicago.
"Yeah...Just found out yesterday."

So, we sat there for a while, talking about what the future might hold for the two of them.  He was obviously scared to death, but in an excited kind of way.  It was the absolute last thing on the planet I had expected to hear at my bachelor party, and a part of me was admittedly saddened.  Not at all for them...I was, and am, genuinely excited for them to the point I could burst.  But, upon the initial news, I could feel a bit of my past slipping away.  DJ and I have been best friends since we were 8 years old, and when something like that happens, you instantly realize that things are different forever.  It was sad, and scary, and exciting, and incredible all in one moment.  And now...Carter is here.  It's just crazy to think how quickly it all happened.

Adrienne and I moved three hours from any family.  I wrote a post about moving shortly after we arrived, and the excitement and hesitancy that all carried...I wrote about how it feels like an opportunity to start over, and how I looked forward to what the future held for us.  Now, though, I feel more guilt than anything.  It is no secret that Adrienne didn't really want to come here, and I can't say, with all honesty, that I really wanted to either.  But, we were a young couple about to get married, we both got teaching jobs here (something that couldn't be said about anywhere else), and it just made logical sense to make the move.  But, seeing her struggle through the first several months was incredibly difficult to bear, for both of us, and made me feel awful for seemingly dragging her along.  She would never even begin to blame me, and I love her for that, but it doesn't really change how I felt for a long time.  As the year progressed, it was obvious she began to grow more comfortable and accustomed to all the change, and that offered some comfort.  But, I also know, her heart has never really been here, and I can say the same thing.  We just never really felt at home here.

That being said, deep down I feel like it has been a good experience for us, at least in the long run.  We've been forced to deal with overwhelming change with no one to lean on but one another, and I know that will pay big dividends for us and our relationship as we progress through life.  I feel like the difficulties we faced in the first several months we were here have helped prepare us for any number of unfortunate scenarios we may face later.  At the very least, we'll be close to family, which would make anything easier to handle.

Looking back on the last several months, that is the biggest change for me.  Before this year, I had spent 8 more living 4 hours from my family, and had grown accustomed to it.  I still got homesick from time to time, but those times grew fewer and far between as more time passed.  But then Lensey gave birth to Lydia in November 2011.  I grew extremely close with Adrienne's family and came to love them just like my own.  I never really said so to Adrienne, but I began to miss home more than I ever have in my life.  I guess part of it was because I was trying so hard to make things work here.  I wanted us to set out on our own, and create our own life together.  I wanted to make the transition as easy on her as possible, and felt if I expressed the same emotion, I'd just make it more difficult and easier to say "to hell with it," and just leave.  So, I put up a tough facade and bottled it away, just trying to buy time.  But now, I can honestly say that I absolutely can't wait to get out of here and close to our families.  My family may still be a couple of hours away, but after being here, that is nothing.  Adrienne and I talk about it often...If we wake up on a Sunday morning and want to go to my parents' house just to visit for a few hours, we'll be able to.  Now, we have to plan a trip weeks in advance, and hope something doesn't come up that would prevent us from going.

So, now, this time of year marks yet another new beginning for Adrienne and I.  Things are still a bit up in the air, but we both know, at the very least, we want to be with family.  Having that support system will help ease any difficulties we'll face, and we'll both be happy.  Which, we've both come to realize, is more important than just about anything else.  The last year has brought a boatload of change, and it's surreal to think about it now.  But, as is always the case with May, a new beginning is upon us and I know we couldn't be more excited to see how different things are this time next year.

The Point Is...There Isn't One

Lately, I've found myself in a familiar spot.  I'm keenly aware that it's been more than a month since I've posted on the blog, and I'm also aware that I've only written two posts in the last two months.  I had made a commitment to myself to write more, because I enjoy it.  It's an outlet for me, and allows me to ponder my thoughts for as long as it takes to get the wording right...Something that can't be done in simple conversation.  But, I'm one of those types of people that can't just sit down and write.  I need something...A jogged memory, an interesting, thought-provoking exchange with someone, an "a-ha!" moment...Anything to inspire me.  And, for whatever reason, nothing like that has really taken place over the last couple of months.  I've even sat down multiple times with every intention of cranking out a great post, only to sit and stare at a blank screen for 30 minutes, or get totally distracted by reruns of Family Guy.

In my writing resource class, I have my kids do free-writes all the time.  I give them a sheet of paper, and instruct them to write. 

"What do we write about?" They'll inevitably ask.

"Anything you want.  Write about your weekend.  Write about a dream you had last night.  Make up a story...Literally, write anything you want," I'll tell them.  And they'll go to work, albeit reluctantly. And you know what?  Despite countless spelling and grammatical errors, they usually end up interesting in one way or another.

And yet, despite my propensity to have my students do that, I've never really thought to do it myself.  And if I have, I've quickly dismissed the idea because I think it'll come across as nonsensical and silly, or just downright awful.  But, I really want to write.  So I'm going to.  I will preface this by saying I really don't know where this is going or what will come of it, so if you are already bored then I will not be offended if you close the window now and go back to creeping on Facebook (I won't know the difference anyhow).  So, here it goes.

I love this time of year.  I've written in the past about my hatred of winter and how I spend most of the time longing for hot, summer days out on the lake.  But, I really love spring.  There's something so refreshing about being able to walk outside without a shirt on, and smelling fresh-mowed grass.  As much as they annoy me, I like those first few allergy-induced sneezes.  I love the first tinge of sunburn you feel after spending an entire day outdoors for the first time in months, and I love being kept awake at night by those first few mosquito bites.  They become bothersome and annoying by June, but not now...They're welcomed now.

I love baseball.  Hearing the ping of metal bats on a warm Saturday afternoon is really unlike anything else, and I never realize how much I truly miss playing until I'm out on the field for the first time.  I was unable to land a coaching gig this season, so I started umpiring in the 10th and 11th region, and I absolutely love it.  It's interesting being on the other side of the coin, so to speak, because I've played and coached the game.  And I remember how awful I could be toward umpires, but only when they made a blatantly terrible call.  But, being on this side of things, my entire perspective has changed.  Umpiring is HARD.  Thankless.  Pressure-filled.  But, I like it.  I like being around the game.  I like how, for very brief moments, every coach, player, and fan hangs on my every move.  I like being heckled, to a certain extent, because 90% of the time, they have no idea what they're talking about.  It's good money (way better than I'd get coaching), but that's not why I do it.  Or at least not why I do it now.  It may have started out that way, but now I do it because I love the game and it keeps me near it, even though the satisfaction and adrenaline that comes with coaching and playing isn't present.  I just try to do the best I can, be as consistent as I can, because that's all I ever asked out of umpires when I coached and played.  It has become abundantly clear very quickly, however, that missing a call here and there is absolutely going to happen, and no matter how hard you try to get them all right, you just aren't going to.  And if I ever coach again, I'll try my best to keep that in mind.  You can ask Adrienne...My demeanor changes quite a bit when I'm in that position, but at least now I'll be able to empathize a lot more than I could have previously.  But I've already learned a ton, and I've already noticed subtle improvements in myself just over the course of a few weeks, and that is very gratifying.

I've decided that people are sick.  And not just the ones that put homemade bombs in backpacks in order to injure and kills dozens of innocent people.  It's everyday folks that are sick.  Many are total strangers, but some are people we call friends or even family.  I think the accessibility of information because of the internet and social media plays a huge role in how apparent it is that so many people are grossly maladjusted.  Take for instance the bombing last week, which I already alluded to.  Even before the identities of the suspects were released, people all across the country were formulating and publicizing ridiculous conspiracy theories in regards to the bombings.  People were posting asinine political commentaries on Facebook and Twitter...That sentence almost made me laugh out loud.  Political commentaries.  Facebook.  Twitter.  Really.

"You shouldn't listen to everything you hear on the news!  Look at this Youtube video some random dude made on his mom's iMac!  He's got it all figured out!"
"So, I'm supposed to believe this 24-year-old Michael Moore wannabe instead of the news?  Because?"
"Because the government RUNS the news, man!  They're feeding them everything they want reported!  Don't you see?"
"I see that you're an idiot."

I understand that everyone has their own perceptions and ideals, and they have every right, in this country, to voice those opinions...But that doesn't make them look any less foolish.  Instead of spending their time and energy trying to do something helpful, or at the very least thoughtful, they go to social media and rant about how the government is out to get them, how there's no chance in hell they'd ever give up their rights the way the people of Boston did, how we're all going to hell in a hand basket because Barack Obama is president.  Or we're all going to hell in a hand basket because the Republicans are taking us there. 

That's easy for you to say sitting on your couch a thousand miles away, while those people were dealing with the tragedy and fear of a possibly wired and/or armed maniac running loose through their neighborhoods.  Why does EVERYTHING have to turn into a political debate that will literally accomplish nothing?

I don't want to turn into exactly what I'm criticizing here, so I'm not going to dive any deeper into the politics involved.  That wasn't my point to begin with.  My point is, people are so quick to point fingers and criticize those in charge, or to jump on board with some idiotic theory that could come from anyone with a computer and an imagination, that they end up contradicting themselves.  I realize you shouldn't believe everything you read or see on television.  I realize the government can be corrupt.  But I also realize that the "truth" is never all that cut and dry.  It's usually somewhere in the middle.  And I also realize that I don't need a Facebook post to somehow justify or attribute to my own thinking.  I can make up my own mind.  And I think we'd be a lot better off if people spent less time placing blame and more time working to make real, positive change.

I'm not necessarily talking about political change...Sure, that's part of it.  But, we can all do little things to change the way we interact with people.  We can be more generous with our time and money to help those in need.  We can treat each other with the respect and dignity that we would expect to be treated with (golden rule, anyone?).  We can slow down on a curvy, two-lane highway and not pass 4 cars on a double-yellow line.  We can refrain from flipping somebody off when they give a subtle reminder with their horn that the light is green, and has been for about 10 seconds.  We can use Facebook to exchange inside-jokes, write simple, encouraging messages, or to post pictures of our kids and pets or of fun nights out on the town.  Even though we have every right to do so, we don't always have to speak our minds. 

Ok...So, that was a bit erratic.  And crazy.  And liberating.  Have a great week.

What's In a Name: An NIT State of Mind

Anyone that knows me even remotely well (and some that don't know me at all), knows that I am a huge Kentucky Wildcats fan.  Kentucky Basketball is far and away my favorite sports team to follow, but I am a Kentucky fan through and through.  It doesn't matter if you're talking about basketball, football, baseball, track and field, or rifle...I bleed blue.  Always have, always will.

It's that love of Kentucky Basketball, and sports in general, that leaves me a bit surprised that I've never written about sports on this blog.  I know when I started the blog, I thought I would sprinkle in sports commentaries from time to time.  But when I realized 99% of my readers wouldn't care about my opinions on the Wildcats, or any other sports-related topic, I just put those opinions on Rupps Rafters, or in the comments section on KSR.  This time, however, I can't surround myself with that.  Those folks are far too fair-weather and negative and, right now, that is the last thing I need.  So, I'm going to vent here.

In the world of college basketball, the University of Kentucky is the epitome of success.  The most all-time wins, the most NCAA Tournament appearances and wins, the second-most NCAA Championships, the third-most Final Four appearances..."The List" goes on and on and on.  Aside from the incredible success the Cats have enjoyed on the court, the fanbase is arguably the best fanbase of any team, in any sport, in the world.  We follow our team religiously.  We talk about them all year long.  We pack gyms all across the country to watch them play.  We schedule work, vacations, weddings, and just about any other obligation around the basketball schedule.  For a Kentucky fan, missing a game is an almost unforgivable offense.  But that's how we are.  We take immense pride in the Wildcats because, quite frankly, the state of Kentucky doesn't have a whole lot we can be proud of.  Outsiders can call us backward, inbred, stupid, and anything else...But we still have the best damn basketball program in the country, and won't hesitate to tell you about it.

One of the truly unique aspects of Kentucky basketball, and its fans, is how we revere the great teams down through the years.  It seems every time a great team, or one that is significant in the trajectory of the program, comes along, we apply a moniker to remember them by.  The Fabulous Five, the Fiddlin' Five, Rupp's Runts, the Super Kittens, the Unforgettables, the Untouchables, the Comeback Cats, the Undeniables...They all hold a special place in Kentucky Basketball lore.

That brings us to this year's team...The Unwatchables.  For as long as I've been a fan, I've never seen a team that was more frustrating and maddening to watch as this group, and as I sit here just a few minutes after a disappointing season came to an unfathomable end at the hands of Robert Morris (who?), I am still having trouble pinpointing exactly why.

I guess a lot of the blame can be placed on the shoulders of John Calipari, but not for the reasons you may expect.  In most cases, when a team underachieves, the first place you look is at the head coach.  And you certainly wouldn't be too off-base in doing that...There's no question that he has to take on some of the blame.  But, I think a lot of it comes from the massive success Kentucky experienced over the first three years of Cal's tenure.  It's as if Calipari set his own bar too high, and set himself up for failure to eventually befall him.

Three consecutive number-one rated recruiting classes came to Kentucky from 2010-2012, and none of the three failed to win fewer than 29 games.  Two made the Final Four, and last year's group, arguably the best college basketball team to ever suit up, won an NCAA-record 38 games en route to a national championship.  All of the teams were led by highly-touted freshmen, and all three teams were wildly successful.  It was easy, as a fan, to expect the same from this year's group, no matter how much common sense and logic might have pointed to the contrary.

This group was ranked 3rd to begin the season, but never even resembled a top-5 team.  Sure, the incoming freshman class carried all the accolades and hype that their predecessors had carried, but it was apparent from day one that this group didn't have the same makeup as those other groups.  The "it" factor, whatever "it" is, simply wasn't present with this team.

Personally, my expectations were tempered in comparison to many fans, but I still expected to make the NCAA Tournament, and be in a position to make a deep run.  Calipari has had an unmatched knack for getting young teams to play hard and succeed at a high level, even if they don't turn the proverbial corner until late-February.  But, when our best player, Nerlens Noel, went down in early February with a severe knee injury, it became quite clear this team was never going to live up to the expectations.  And I'm not sure they would have, even if he had stayed healthy.

The most frustrating aspect of this team, and what made them so painful to watch, was their uncanny ability to make boneheaded mistakes.  Their ability to seemingly disappear offensively, even in the midst of a game where they appeared to be clicking on all cylinders.  Blowing double-digit leads and going 7, 8, or 10 minutes without scoring became a trademark.  Driving the ball aimlessly into a quadruple team went from being an early-season sign of youth, to a marked regularity late in conference play.  Selfishness on the offensive end and softness on the defensive end, two characteristics that never appear on a John Calipari team, were always part of this team's makeup.  Obvious mental weakness and an inability to overcome adversity (things that earlier Calipari-coached teams  seemed to lose as the season progressed) reared its ugly head as late as tonight...The last game of the season.  Every time we thought they had turned the corner and began to move forward, they would take two giant steps backward the next game out.  It was like a sick joke, and the punchline was always at the fans' expense.

We really shouldn't have been all that surprised, and we really shouldn't be all that upset.  We won more games than any other team in the history of the NCAA last year.  We rolled to a national title, and had 6 players (6!) drafted into the NBA, including the top two overall picks.  Anthony Davis had arguably the greatest individual season in the history of college basketball by winning the National Player of the Year, National Defensive Player of the Year, Freshman of the Year, Final Four MVP, a national title, being the #1 pick in the NBA Draft, and by winning a gold medal in the summer Olympics.  Kentucky Basketball was king.  But that was last year.  And to Kentucky fans, despite our propensity to trumpet our illustrious past, last year amounts to little more than a hill of beans.

I said last year I would trade a national championship for an NIT berth this season, and I meant it when I said it.  However, I never actually expected that to be the case, and am still having trouble wrapping my head around it.  That being said, though, I know next year will be different.  The balance of power will be returned, and we'll be right back where we were the last three seasons.  But, that doesn't make this any easier to stomach, and will make for a very long offseason.

While this team may have been the Unwatchables, it didn't keep me from fully investing in them, just like I always do.  Just like I will next year, and the year after that.  I'm sure any fanbase in the world would trade the run of success we had from 2010-2012 for this season without even giving it a thought, especially when the future is as bright as it's ever been.  But, that doesn't make it sting any less, and only brings to mind a quote the Brooklyn Dodgers used to throw around when they were consistently falling just short of a World Series title..."Wait til next year."  Next year, indeed.

When Daddy Let Me Drive

Not too long ago, I remember seeing a commercial for an insurance company...Or car company...Or something totally unrelated.  I'm not really sure what the topic was.  But, in any event, the premise of the commercial was a young guy picking up a girl for what we are to assume is prom.  He pulls up to the curb, where she's standing waiting.  He leans across the interior of the car to open the passenger door so she can get in, at which point he stops her, awkwardly shakes his head as he points to her shoes, and she removes them as she gets in the car, obviously annoyed.  I'm not going to spend time dissecting all that is wrong with that from a chivalry standpoint, because that isn't why I brought it up.  But, do know that I am aware of it.

No, the reason I draw your attention to that commercial is because I think we all, at one point or another, know someone that obsesses over cars.  They wash them almost daily, on down to the point of almost combing the floor boards looking for the smallest speck of dirt.  The car is always waxed, and kept in pristine condition.  I'm not saying that's a bad thing...You should take good care of your stuff, especially something as expensive as a car.  But, there's no question some people take it just a bit too far.

My dad teeters on the brink of being one of those people.  Dad has always worked hard for what he's been able to accomplish in life, and when he dumps thousands of dollars into anything, he takes extraordinarily good care of it.  Whether it's a car, truck, lawnmower, bicycle, or anything else...He takes care of his stuff.  No question about it.  And while it's nothing for him to wash his and mom's vehicles twice a week during the summer, he's nowhere nearly as obsessive about his truck as the individual I described above.

He saved that obsession for his boat.

Literally for as long as I can remember, my parents have had a boat.  They started out with an old poop brown and yellow pontoon that just screamed of the 1970s.  Of course, I can't complain...I'd give my left arm for a boat of my own, even if it were that exact same boat reincarnated.  I'd take it.  Just check out that beautiful interior:

Mom and Dad ended up selling that one and upgrading to an old Mark Twain runabout that we had until I was about 7 or 8 years old.  I don't really remember much about it except one time when we were crossing the lake, we came upon a line of barge waves and a wall of water came rushing in over the nose, completely drenching the boat, and everything in it.

Now, Dad's obsession with caring for his boat was almost assuredly present during the time my parents had those boats, but I was so young I don't remember it.  But, when Dad came home with The Bat Boat, all that changed.  And for good reason...It was a sharp, sharp boat.  I remember multiple times when people would idle up next to us and offer to buy the thing on the spot.  It was beautiful, and unique, and kept in like-new condition from day one.

I suppose I wasn't fully aware of his obsessive-compulsive behavior in regards to the boat until I was in high school...When I first started to get the nerve to ask if I could take it out by myself.  Of course, I might as well have been asking Dad if I could go to the moon, and I don't blame him.  I sure wouldn't trust a 16-year-old kid, even my own son, with my boat.  But, after a couple years of chipping away at him, he finally gave in.  And I remember that day very well.

I was 17, we were camping at Hillman Ferry, and Dad and I had already been out on the boat that day.  I don't know exactly where they were, but Mom and Lensey weren't with us.  One of my friends had shown up that afternoon, and since the boat was already in the water, I asked Dad if I could take it out for another hour or two.  And, by some miraculous act of God, he said yes.  I was so excited I could hardly contain myself.  And I'll never forget the last thing he said to me as he pushed us away from the dock..."It better come back exactly the way it left."  Come on, Dad...What could happen in an hour?

Knowing that any hopes I had of ever taking the boat out again after that hinged solely on my ability to get it back without so much as a speck of dirt, and I intended on making sure that happened.  We drove two bays down to the Rock Quarry, puttered around for a few minutes, and then made our way back.  The journey lasted no more than 45 minutes, but I didn't want to press my luck.  I figured the longer I stayed out, the more likely I was to screw something up.

I turned the corner of the bay, pulled back smoothly on the throttle as the boat lost its plane, and slowed to a beautiful idle.  I had made it back, safe and sound.  I could already hear Dad heaping praise on his only son for taking a major step towards manhood.  "Hell, take it out all weekend if you want to!" I could hear him say.  I was floating on air...I was on top of the world!

Then I was crashing to the floor as the backrest on the driver's seat collapsed.

I lay in the floor, momentarily paralyzed.  I looked up at my friend as if to say, "What the hell happened?"  He looked back at me with a puzzled, worried look as if to say, "I have no idea!"  I was frantic.  I looked everywhere for some kind of solution...What in the world had happened?!  One minute everything was fine, and the next there were wet, rotted wood fragments sprayed all over the floor.  The wooden support where the driver's seat and passenger seat's crests meet back-to-back had completely pulled apart...Screws were sticking out on either side, and the seats refused to stay standing up.  Not only could I see my daydream plummeting into darkness, I could see my life doing the same thing.

I know Dad had to have sensed my despair.  I was an absolute wreck, trying to explain what had happened both without having any explanation to offer, and not having any question solicited by him.  The type of explanation that immediately makes someone appear guilty.  He tried to calm me down and told me he'd look at it when we got back to the campsite, but it was no use...I knew I'd probably never get to even look at the boat again, much less drive it alone.

It just didn't seem fair.  I had asked Dad to take the boat out dozens of times before, and the first time he lets me, I practically destroy two seats and have no earthly clue how I did it.  I was deliberate in every movement I made.  I had taken every precaution.  I was more careful than any normal human being should be.  And none of it mattered.  As I approached the campsite, returning from the shower house, I saw Dad pop up from inside the boat.  The verdict was in.

"I just need to replace the wood back here.  It's just rotted through...Was going to happen sooner or later, anyway...Don't worry about it."

I could practically see the clouds part, and hear a chorus of "Hallelujah" reverberate down from the hills.  There was hope.  It wasn't my fault!  Dad told me not to worry, and he didn't make a big deal out of it at all.  He let me take the boat out by myself a bunch of times after that.  And, as my friends can attest, I was a drill-sergeant when it came to keeping it clean. J-Bird doesn't mess around, I'd constantly remind them.

My dad loved that boat, and the care he put toward it illustrated that fact.  But, as Lensey and I grew older and grew tired of skiing and wakeboarding, the need for more room became apparent and they sold it to my cousin and her husband a few years later.  Dad had taken such good care of it, it hardly depreciated at all.  They bought a nice pontoon, which they still have.

The first time Dad let me take the pontoon out, I was met with a laminated folder of typed instructions on every step I had to take prior to launch, and upon my return.  Step-by-step, he laid out every plausible scenario from a spare battery, to where the bimini top straps were located.  It told me which rope was used to tie the front and back to the dock.  It even provided instructions on how to operate the radio.  It was, to be frank, a little ridiculous.  But, a perfect example of just how thorough he can be in assuring his investments last.

It took me a little longer than he would have hoped to inherit that trait.  He made Lensey and I keep our bikes clean when we were kids.  He was constantly on me about washing my car or getting the oil changed.  He'd always say something like, "If you want to trash your car, then you can start paying for it."  And when I bought my truck a couple of years ago, I understood exactly what he meant.

Buying a boat is at the top of mine and Adrienne's wish list.  And while I probably won't have typed and laminated instructions stored under a seat, I'm sure I'll do my dad proud in taking care of it.

This Isn't the Tin Lizzies at Opryland...It's a Wal-Mart

I am by no means a perfect person.  I've never claimed to be, nor have I ever even thought I was.  My self-awareness is such that I know I have faults, and plenty of them.  With that being said, though, I have always considered myself to be a pretty good guy.  I'm usually friendly, or at least cordial, to people I meet.  I'm easy-going, for the most part, and can get along well with a wide variety of different people.  I possess most of the skills and characteristics attributable to basic human decency, and often will go out of my way to avoid confrontation.  Not necessarily because I'm afraid of it, but more because I look at it as a, in most cases, needless inconvenience that usually accomplishes nothing.  Obviously, that's not always true, but if it were too far off-point, then the old adage "don't sweat the small stuff" would have never been coined.  I'm sure there are people that have had nasty things to say about me, and I'm sure I have rubbed some people the wrong way at one point or another...But that's life.  When you meet roughly 80,000-100,000 different people in your lifetime (obviously far from exact research points to that), it is bound to happen.

I try to give most people the benefit of the doubt.  I may sit around with my wife and constantly make instantaneous judgements about weirdos we see on television, but I don't do that in real life.  Most of the interactions we have with people outside of school, work, family, and friends, last a few seconds or minutes.  So it's logistically impossible to make any kind of real assertion about the type of person they may be.

That is, of course, assuming those fleeting interactions don't include the other person doing one of these things:

1. Not allowing people to cut in line at the checkout counter when their transaction will take less than 30 seconds.  I was at Dollar General the other day to pick up two items: a half gallon of milk, and a bag of dog food.  I wandered up to the small line that had formed at the checkout line, and took my place behind a woman with  shopping cart full of roughly $100 worth of stuff.  Seeing as we were at the Dollar General, you can imagine just how much stuff she actually had.  As I took my place in line, she turned and looked at him, glanced down at the two items I was holding, then turned back around and began placing her items on the counter.  I instantly became furious.  Now, I know I shouldn't really be all that angry...I don't know how long she had been standing in line herself.  But, I do know that if the roles were reversed, I would have allowed her to cut me in line knowing that my transaction would take five times as long as hers.  Stuff like that just irritates the hell out of me.

2. Being a rude employee.  I wasn't present for this particular incident, but my wife called me with a string of obscenities shortly after it took place, so I will just relay her story.  She was feeling a little under the weather on Saturday, so she decided to go pick up some Mucinex-D at the pharmacy.  The first place required her to have a prescription...No big deal.  She had other errands to run, so she figured she'd just make another stop.  So, she decided to go to Wal-Mart's pharmacy instead.  There were two or three other customers in front of her, and she stood patiently in line waiting for them to pick up their respective prescriptions.  When she approached the window, the pharmacist looked at her (with no other customers waiting behind her) and said, "We're going to lunch.  You'll have to come back in 30 minutes."  Now, I understand that large corporations like Wal-Mart can be extremely strict when it comes to break times, but would taking an extra minute and a half on the clock really hurt anything?  I know one customer that won't ever be back to that pharmacy because of it.  Not that Wal-Mart really cares...But it's the principle.

3. Being an inconsiderate patron.  When I worked at InTouch Communications in Glasgow, our store hours were 9-7 Monday through Friday, and 9-5 on Saturday.  Almost without exception, we would be absolutely dead for an hour or more before closing...Until around 6:58.  People would walk up to the door, read the store hours, look at their watch, and stroll in saying, "Y'all still open?"  Well, technically we are still open...For two more minutes.  But, sure, I'd love to help you open 3 new lines and stay until 8:30.  I mean, it's not like you didn't have 10 other hours throughout the day to come in here.  It never failed...If someone came in 5 minutes til close, it was never a quick thing.  Drove me absolutely nuts.  I understand that people are busy and have other obligations, but you wouldn't want me coming to your place of work to make you stay longer than you've already been there.  If I had to get a new phone, I would make the time to go during normal business hours...You know, like a decent human being...Not 90 seconds before the place closes, forcing the staff to stay.  And even more than that, we'd turn off the lights, lock the doors, and have customers come up and bang on the door...After closing time.  I guess some folks just don't get it.

4. Blocking the entire aisle or exit at a store.  This one never fails to happen when you are in a hurry.  Like after a long day at work, you just want to get home and fire up the grill because it's beautiful outside and you've spent the entire day cooped up inside, but you know you need some hamburger buns and ketchup and nothing else.  You practically sprint down to the bread aisle, grab the buns, make a quick Barry Sanders-esque spin move and find yourself blocked in on either side by two shoppers completely oblivious to anything or anyone around them.  If you go right, you'll run right into an overweight woman and her two unruly children acting like total idiots.  If you go left, you're face-down in a cart filled with frozen pizzas and Old Milwaukee cases.  Neither person makes even the slightest effort to move to one side or the other and you're forced to play that "I'll go this way, you go that way, no, I'll go that way, you go this way" game with a total stranger.  You finally squeeze by one of them (they still haven't moved), knocking Bunny Bread loaves off the shelves along the way, pay for your items, and then get behind the lady pushing two carts, while trying to simultaneously write out a text and put her wallet back in her purse.  Completely unaware of you, or anyone else, they finally notice your presence just after walking outside.  You're already out of earshot by the time they say, "Oh, I'm sorry."  You're not the only person in the store.

Ok...I feel better.  Have a great day.

I'd Like You to Meet Some of My Friends: Meat, Micky, and Hootie

Everyone has different tastes and interests.  And most people, as they grow older, find that those interests evolve and change as much as our bodies do.  For as long as I can remember, or at least for as long as I was able to do it, writing has always been one of mine.  I kept a journal when I was 8 years old (which I still have, by the way) and I actually wrote pretty consistently.  Later on, I would dabble in keeping a journal from time to time, but, in most cases, my entries were so few and far between, they didn't carry much significance.  My 4th grade teacher, Mrs. Shelton, really encouraged me to write, and provided extensive guidance when I was completing my writing portfolio at that time.  I had a creative writing class in 6th grade that I absolutely loved, and still remember dozens of short stories I started but never completed.  I even enjoyed writing papers when I was in college.  There's no question that, in most cases, I BS'ed my way through them, but when I was truly interested in the topic, I dove in full bore.

That is what drove me to start this blog in the first place.  I never had any intention of keeping a pure focus with this except a love for writing.  Sometimes an idea for a post will hit me like a gale force wind blowing in front of a line of storms, and other times the mood to write will strike without any semblance of an idea whatsoever.  Those times can be frustrating.  Times like right now.

I was sitting here wanting to write something, but any glimmer of an idea I came up with sounded like total crap.  Even as I write this now, I'm thinking to myself, "Isn't this crap?  Who would want to read this rambling, nonsensical junk?"  But, by this point, you've already committed.  You've wasted at least a minute of your day, and obviously had the time to kill by clicking on this link in the first place.  You might as well read to the end.

So, I did a quick Google search for blog ideas, and came across a list of 101 Blog Post Ideas.  A couple dozen of the post ideas caught my eye, but many of them would require entirely too much thought and, quite frankly, I don't have the time or energy to put that much focus into it right now.  So I'll save those for other days.  For now, I decided on one that simply said, "If you were stranded on a desert island, name ten _____ you would take with you."

Now, I'm sure virtually all of you reading this have played that game at one time or another.  If you're on a long road trip, or stuck in a waiting room, or just bored and need something to kill time, you've played it.  It's always interesting to hear people's responses to it, too.  It provides you with some insight you might not have had, even with people you know very well.

For this, I decided I would identify the 10 music albums I would take with me, and explain each choice.  I did have a couple of ground rules, though: while greatest hits albums are okay, compilation albums with a variety of artists (like the Now! series) are off limits.  It makes it more difficult and more fun to keep those out of the equation.  So, without further ado, and in no particular order, my 10 stranded-on-a-desert-island albums are:

 1. Boston: Greatest Hits
Release Date: June 3, 1997
Favorite Cuts: "Foreplay/Long Time", "Cool the Engines", "Rock and Roll Band"
I have no shame in admitting that Boston is one of my all-time favorite bands.  While most of their material is easily type-cast (you know Boston as soon as you hear it), there is something about the similarity in all their songs that makes them irresistible to me.  While many artists will try to evolve and expand their sound, Boston never really did that.  They had a formula that worked, stuck with it, and I say God bless them for it.  Their distinct sound is due to Tom Scholz's hand-made Rockman amplifier, which revolutionized the capabilities of electric guitars and was emulated by rock royalty like Journey, ZZ Top, Queen, and others.  He (along with Queen's Brian May) were pioneers in harmonizing multiple-layered guitars in the studio, and it gives Boston their unique sound.  I'd expect nothing less from an MIT graduate.  I don't love every Boston song, but this compilation has all the necessities comprised, mostly, of their earlier stuff.

2. Yourself or Someone Like You - Matchbox 20
Release Date: October 1, 1996
Favorite Cuts: "Long Day", "Kody", "Hang" 
In my opinion, this is one of the best albums of the 1990s, although it is rarely mentioned or remembered by most people.  I don't like music for it's revolutionary style, or it's artistic integrity.  In all reality, you won't really find it here.  In the late 90s, Matchbox 20 (now Matchbox Twenty) was little more than a glorified garage band.  But, that doesn't take away from the fact this is one of the few albums I can play from start to finish without getting bored, even after listening to it from start to finish about a thousand times.  The grittiness of this album was lost to later, more extensively produced entries in the MB20 catalog, and therein lies much of it's attractiveness.  The lyrics are real and relatable, the hooks are catchy, and the album flows fantastically.

3. I and Love and You - The Avett Brothers
Release Date: September 29, 2009
Favorite Cuts: "And It Spread", "Kick Drum Heart", "Laundry Room", "It Goes On and On" 
The newest album on the list, I discovered these guys through Adrienne and Liza a couple of years ago, right after Adrienne and I started dating.  When I first heard them, I wasn't really all that impressed.  I liked a couple of their more uptempo tunes, but found most of it to be too slow and boring for my taste...Until I saw the band live.  They put on one of the more energetic and entertaining live shows you will ever see, but do it without pyrotechnics or half-naked women dancing on stage.  They stand on stage, play their instruments, and let the music do the talking.  Whether you've ever heard them or not, it's impossible not to have fun when you watch them perform.  And after doing so, listening to the albums takes on a totally different meaning.  While I enjoy virtually their entire catalog, and while this particular album is really their first "sell-out" record, it's probably my favorite by the band.  It starts a bit slow (tempo-wise), crescendos in the middle, and closes perfectly.  Again, an album that can be listened to non-stop from start to finish where, like watching a movie a dozen times, you always seem to catch something you had missed previously.

 4. Take Off Your Pants and Jacket - Blink 182
Release Date: June 12, 2001
Favorite Cuts: "Online Songs", "Roller Coaster", "Everytime I Look for You", "Shut Up"


The sophomoric innuendo in the album's title aside, I'm not embarrassed to have this included in my list.  You will never find Blink-182 listed on a "greatest bands" list, and you really shouldn't under any circumstances.  They actually aren't that good.  But, in the summer of 2001, DJ and I absolutely wore this album out to the point where hardly a day went by without it getting at least one listen.  For me, though, the significance of this album doesn't come from the artistic merit it brings to the table.  In fact, it doesn't really bring any at all.  The significance lies in the memories it spurs each time I hear one of the songs.  It's a very catchy record, and good in it's own simple, immature way.  But, just like a family heirloom or favorite old t-shirt, it sticks with me for sentimental purposes only.

 5. Garth Brooks: The Ultimate Hits
Release Date: November 6, 2007
Favorite Cuts: "Shameless", "Callin' Baton Rouge", "Much Too Young (To Feel This Damn Old)"
One thing that makes my music collection enjoyable is how eclectic and mixed up it is.  There are songs from all different genres, eras, and artists and when I hit shuffle on my iTunes, I truly don't know what is going to be coming.  I knew if I were going to have any country (which I would have to), I had to have some Garth.  But trying to decide which studio album to choose would be practically impossible.  I understand compilations might be cheating to a degree, but I don't care.  Garth deserves a two-disc set, and by God, I'm taking it with me. He revolutionized country music forever, beginning in the early 1990s, and every male artist that has come after him has tried, and failed miserably, to emulate his voice and stage presence.  He was able to tackle song choices that were both interesting and controversial, but he did it with style and for a period from about 1990 to 1996, nobody could touch Garth Brooks.

6. Bat Out of Hell - Meat Loaf
Release Date: October 21, 1977
Favorite Cuts: "Bat Out of Hell", "You Took the Words Right Out of My Mouth", "Two Out of Three Ain't Bad"
I understand that Meat Loaf is extremely eccentric, and am fully aware that most of his music fails to strike a chord with mainstream music fans, but that doesn't mean I don't think his major-label debut isn't awesome.  The album almost plays as a rock-opera, with most of the tracks exceeding 5 minutes in length, a far cry from most popular music.  And, although I think he's a lyrical genius, I can easily see why some people would find Jim Steinman's songwriting a bit over the top.  But, despite it's inherent weirdness, and despite the fact that Meat Loaf himself fits absolutely none of the stereotypes attributable to a pop star, Bat Out of Hell has sold more than 43 million copies worldwide since it's release, and still moves about 200,000 units every year.  It is anything but normal, but when you couple one of the greatest rock singers of all time with an outstanding, and under-appreciated songwriter, the results are going to be good.  And Bat Out of Hell is damn good.

7. From Under the Cork Tree - Fall Out Boy
Release Date: May 3, 2005
Favorite Cuts: "Dance, Dance", "Sugar, We're Going Down", "I Slept With Someone in Fall Out Boy and All I Got Was This Stupid Song Written About Me" 
I'm sure many of you out there are thinking "Fall Out Boy?  What the hell?"  And I know...I get it.  I'm just as disappointed in me as you are.  But I can't help it.  Part of it is sentimental...Until the newest Avett Brothers album came out in September, this was the last CD I had bought at a store.  Going to FYE or Disc Jockey in the mall used to be one of my favorite things to do, and I guess this album was kind of my last connection to those bygone days.  But, despite the poppy, teenage-angst that permeates throughout, these guys are much more creative and clever than many of their contemporaries.  Patrick Stump has a very distinct voice that, while a tad annoying at times, I really like.  The songwriting is solid, the lyrics are smart without being pretentious, and the album has some of the catchiest hooks you will ever hear.

 8.  Careless - Micky and the Motorcars
Release Date: May 9, 2006
Favorite Cuts: "Desperation", "Rock Springs to Cheyenne", "Remember" 
I wouldn't necessarily say that this is one of my favorite albums of all time, but my mentality is I'm going to be on a desert island.  I better have some variety in my music selection, or I'm going to go crazy.  That's why I picked this album.  Micky and the Motorcars are a fairly unknown act outside of Texas, but are extremely popular in the alternative Texas-Country scene.  They're the perfect blend of southern rock...A little Lynyrd Skynyrd (not too much), a touch of Chris LeDoux, with just a pinch of Bad Company thrown in.  The songwriting is outstanding, and lead-singer Micky Braun has an extremely distinctive voice that you won't forget after hearing it the first time.  He sings with the perfect amount of twang, and mumbles just enough to remain coherent, while still keeping you guessing at times.  The band doesn't hesitate to write depressing material, but they do so in an extremely relatable way.  If you're ever in a bit of a sour mood, or just feel like sitting alone and drinking away a bad day, these guys are the perfect accompaniment.  They're not going to win any awards for putting a smile on your face, but during those times when you're miserable and want some music that speaks to that, you can't go wrong with Micky and the Motorcars.

9. Cracked Rear View - Hootie & the Blowfish
 Release Date: July 5, 1994
Favorite Cuts: "Hannah Jane", "Let Her Cry", "I'm Goin' Home"
If you were of age enough to remember listening to the radio in 1994 and 1995, then you know Hootie & the Blowfish.  And you know them well.  It was virtually impossible to turn on the radio, for really over a year, without hearing "Hold My Hand" or "I Only Wanna Be With You" within ten minutes.  Extensive radio play, coupled with an incredibly unique singer in Darius Rucker (who's proven that he can succeed across a wide range of musical genres) proved to be too much for the American public to handle.  Cracked Rear View is the 15th best-selling album of all time in the United States, and is highly regarded as one of the best albums of the 1990s.  And for good reason.  I got the cassette for Christmas in 1995, and never once had to fast-forward through a song.  It is great from start to finish, and touches on virtually every emotion at some point or another.  I liked the album so much, I got the CD for Christmas a few years later, and still have it to this day.  I might not listen to it as much anymore, but I know I could put it on now and not even begin to get tired of it.  Hootie's follow-ups were never as successful as their debut, but when you release a gem like Cracked Rear View right out of the gate, you're setting the bar pretty damn high.

10. Back in Black - AC/DC
Release Date: July 25, 1980
Favorite Cuts: "Back in Black", "Have a Drink on Me", "Shoot to Thrill"
As I was trying to finish up my list, I noticed two things: 1, I didn't have any music from the 1980s, which is arguably my favorite decade for music, and 2, I didn't have any music that could really get me amped up if I were going to kill some time doing pushups or crunches while bored to tears on a desert island.  So, I went with this classic by one of the all-time great rock bands, AC/DC.  I wouldn't really consider myself a huge AC/DC fan...I'd never pay money to see them live (unless I could travel back in time to the mid-80s).  But, like Boston, AC/DC has consistently delivered hit after hit over the years, and you know exactly what you are going to get any time you put on an AC/DC record.  While their earlier stuff with Bon Scott on vocals is often regarded as their finest material, Back in Black is the band's highest-selling album of all-time.  It hits hard from the outset and stays at a fever pitch throughout.  You won't find anything truly remarkable about it, but that's never really been AC/DC's modus operandi.  What you will find is hard-hitting riff after hard-hitting riff, instantly recognizable simplistic rhythms, and the gritty screech of Brian Johnson that has become a trademark of their work.  I know, at some point, I'd get the urge to rock out and do a poor impersonation of Angus Young's duck walk, and neither would be as enjoyable as they would without some AC/DC blaring in the background.

There are a ton of albums I thought deeply about including here, because there are so many to choose from.  I feel a little bad for not having any Led Zeppelin on the list, but it's mainly because Zeppelin is so hit or miss...While some of their songs are timeless classics, others are way too eccentric for my taste.  As Wayne Campbell put it in Wayne's World, "Led Zeppelin didn't write tunes that everybody liked...They left that to the Bee Gees."  They do have greatest hits compilations out there, but my favorite Zeppelin tune, "The Wanton Song" isn't on it.  And none of their studio albums are good enough, start to finish, to warrant taking along to a desert island, with the only close exception being Led Zeppelin IV.  They're still one of the best bands of all time, though, and I'd bet, if I were stranded on a desert island, I'd miss being unable to get the Led out every once in a while.  Collateral damage, I suppose.

So, that's my list of the 10 albums I'd take with me on a desert island.  My love of music made choosing only 10 a very difficult task, but if push came to shove, I'd feel pretty good about my selections.  There's a decent variety of genres and musical eras, so I don't think I'd get too bored.  And there's something for just about every mood one might find.  So, the question is...What 10 albums would you take?