OUTTA LEFTFIELD: Hats amore: No need now to kick the bucket lid
Published: Tuesday, June 21, 2011
By Mike Morsch
Executive Editor
It took some doing but I finally got a new lid.
Wahoooo, what zany adventures did he have searching for a new hat? Maybe he wants to buy a ridiculous hat of some sort, and his wife advises against it? Maybe he refers to famous hats from TV shows? Maybe some of his previous hats have been, shall we say, less than stylish?
For the past few years, I’ve been going round and round with The Blonde Accountant about my choice of headgear. I have more baseball caps than I can count and I wear different ones for different occasions. She has absolutely no problem with me wearing the baseball caps.
I think he should be true to form and refer to them as "baseball ballcaps."
But for a while now, I have wanted to branch out — to have options — some different and stylish hats available that were maybe a little more sophisticated than just a ballcap.
You could just say "cap."
Besides, I’m growing a bald spot on the back of my noodle and wearing something to cover that is becoming more imperative during the summer months because the reflection is starting to blind drivers and create traffic hazards.
If he had just jammed a few more words into that sentence, just imagine how much funnier it would have been! Bald guys with shiny heads, where does he GET this stuff?
So after much pondering, I have decided to toss my hat into the ring when it comes to my favorites: the Panama straw hat, the Frank Sinatra fedora, the Rocky low rider felt hat and the Gilligan bucket hat.
Reference to TV show hat: check.
Well, none of those choices impressed The Blonde Accountant.
Wife advising against choice of hat: check.
She does not wear hats and is of the general opinion that if I didn’t wear hats either, it just might be easier for me to pull my head out once in a while.
Huh? Pull his head out? I don't get that.
“You look stupid in that hat,” was the typical refrain any time I tried one on during the thousands of shopping excursions I’ve been on with her in the past six years.
“But Frank Sinatra looked cool in this hat,” I would counter.
Wow, a proper use of "counter" as a verb! I'm starting to suspect he doesn't know any other words to use in these situations.
All together now: “Well, you’re not Frank Sinatra.”
Last summer I thought I had found the perfect hat, a Sinatra cool fedora straw hat with a blue band. It was perfect. And I’m not just talking through my hat on that.
Ha... ha... ha. "Sinatra cool fedora straw hat" is one of the worst phrases I have ever heard - "cool Sinatra straw fedora" makes about 1,000,000 times more sense.
Apparently merely invoking the name of Sinatra is not enough to get this hat onto my head in public. I still have it sitting on my dresser hoping that someday it will become acceptably fashionable for the particular coconut that I am forced to carry around. At this point, though, I’m not allowed out of the house wearing it unless I am on my way to throw it in the trash.
Previous hats not being stylish: check. "Noodle," "coconut"... how many substitutes for "head" can we use?
Throughout the whole hat discussion, I always have thought my fallback position would be the Gilligan bucket hat. Surely I couldn’t look any stupider than Gilligan in a bucket hat. Turns out I was wrong about that.
"Stupider." Nice.
But the real game changer was leaving the hat decision in the hands of The Blonde Accountant for the past year or so. And why not? She already picks out all of my clothes, so there’s no reason she can’t pick out the hats, too. I figured as long as she was the one doing the choosing, then I couldn’t look stupid wearing one of her fashion decisions.
Turns out that I was wrong about that, too. Even with the hat decision squarely in her jurisdiction, my noggin was still bare all these many months.
Read those two paragraphs again. I dare you to try and figure out what the hell he's talking about. "Noggin" - synonym #3.
That is, until Father’s Day last weekend. I finally got a hat from The Blonde Accountant. And I didn’t even have to pass the hat to get it.
See that? See what he did there? We're talking about hats, so he used a phrase that has "hat" in it. It's clever! And FUNNY!
It is indeed the bucket hat that has finally won out. It is olive in color with an orange, gray and navy blue band. Of course, I got a whole new outfit that includes a golf shirt and flat-front shorts, and the hat is a perfectly coordinated accessory. That in itself shows you how far I’ve come in my fashion sense: I now know what accessories are.
Alright, we know he's dumb, unattractive, his breath smells, he spills things, he doesn't "get" shopping, etc etc etc... but really? "What's an accessory? My wife hides the dictionary!"
According to online research, the bucket hat, also known as a fishing hat, is a soft cotton hat with a wide and downwards sloping brim. A similar hat is used by the U.S. Navy and is called a “Dixie Cup” hat.
Why did he need to research what one looks like? He has one!!!
It has other names as well. In Australia, for example, it is called a “giggle hat.” Apparently the Australians think it’s a stupid-looking hat too if it has elicited so much laughter that the word “giggle” has been worked into its name.
This is spectacularly uninteresting and unamusing.
I can’t wait to try out my new hat, especially when we go down the shore this summer. I am a shoobie by nature, so maybe the new hat will help me look a little less out of place at the shore.
I don't know what a "shoobie" is. Nor do I wish to know.
Of course, with the new bucket hat will come bucket hat head. I’m not sure how to prevent that but I am going to try to convince The Blonde Accountant that hat head would be less of a problem in an as yet unused Sinatra cool fedora straw hat with a blue band. And hey, I just happen to have one of those sitting on my dresser.
Good lord, his writing is so cumbersome! I mean, look at it - look at how he puts words together. How on Earth this man is a published writer is beyond my ken. Saying "cool fedora straw hat" is akin to saying "cool Lamborghini red car."
If she goes for that, I’ll have to tip my hat to her.
And it wouldn't be a Borsch column if he didn't end it on a cheesy pun! But what, may I ask, is the meaning of the title - "No need to kick the bucket lid"? I know he gets a bucket hat, but... what the heck? I'll list this one under "Men are Dumb," due to the fact that, once again, his wife knows more about something than he does.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Monday, June 20, 2011
Borsch - Comedy Scholar
Monday, June 20, 2011
The key was not under my brother
I didn’t know this beforehand, but it turns out Billy Gardell’s mom and my mom have something in common: They both seem to not quite grasp the intricacies of hiding a house key under the front door mat.
My first question was, "Who is Billy Gardell?"
Gardell, star of the hit television series “Mike and Molly,” is also a successful stand-up comic, and like most comics, his ability to observe human nature and then turn it into compelling storytelling can be quite entertaining.
Do comics really engage in much "compelling storytelling"? I Googled Mr. Gardell and found the following information about his "hit" show: he stars as "Mike Biggs," an overweight police officer (his name is BIGGS! GET IT???). He meets a woman at an Overeaters Anonymous meeting and they become "an unlikely pair" (comedy - and fat jokes - ahoy!).
But watch out - they must confront "comments, jokes and criticism" from Mike's "fast-talking partner." Other characters are a "slim, drug-addicted sister," a "nymphomaniac mother" and "a Senegalese waiter" (foreigners are funny!). This show sounds terrible, and is thus right up Borsch's alley.
So there were plenty of laughs to go around Friday night at the Keswick Theater in Glenside. And the key for comedians is to tell stories that the rest of us can relate to.
Wow, attending a local show at the Keswick! If only it was the Sellersville Theater, the cliche would be complete. I like how he's pontificating about comedy like he teaches a college seminar on it or something.
I didn’t get all the details because I was giggling too much, but one of Gardell’s bits included something about his mom leaving a house key under the front door mat for him, then leaving a note on the front door telling him the key was under the mat.
So at the Dennis Miller show, Borsch didn't laugh as much as he hoped. For comedic genius Billy Gardell, he was laughing so hard he couldn't even hear the jokes.
During the summer of 1978, I had completed my first year of college, which for me meant that I had completed my first year of college partying. By the time that summer rolled around, I wasn’t exactly interested in ending the college party season.
This "all I did at college was party" thing is becoming a prominent Borsch trope. It also makes me wonder how he got this job.
One night I was out with my buddies, doing what 19-year-old guys do, and I didn’t get home until around 2 a.m. I’m not sure why, but my parents had not given me a house key.
Compelling storytelling at its finest here, folks.
I opened the screen door to see a note, in my mother’s handwriting, on the front door, barely illuminated by the street light. It read: “The key is under your brother.”
In my state of heightened unawareness, my first thought was: “Why is my brother on the front porch and why is he sitting on the house key?” Six years my junior, he would have been around 12 or 13 years old and it would have been well past his bedtime.
Imagine a stand-up comic using this material. It would bring down the house, right? Right? The crickets would be chirping so loud you couldn't hear the jokes.
It took me a few moments of controlled confusion to deduce that I did indeed know where the key was.
Wow, "heightened unawareness," "controlled confusion"... he's really trying to sound brainy here.
My brother’s name is . . . Matt.
I often wonder if a burglar who hadn’t been out with his buddies all night would have been able to figure it out. Apparently, my mom didn’t think sober burglars would know my brother’s name.
The end? I know I often complain that Borsch uses one lame joke for an entire post. Does it count when a post literally exists to tell a single, lame joke?
Labels: Billy Gardell, Keswick Theater, Mike Morsch, Montgomery Newspapers, Outta Leftfield
The key was not under my brother
I didn’t know this beforehand, but it turns out Billy Gardell’s mom and my mom have something in common: They both seem to not quite grasp the intricacies of hiding a house key under the front door mat.
My first question was, "Who is Billy Gardell?"
Gardell, star of the hit television series “Mike and Molly,” is also a successful stand-up comic, and like most comics, his ability to observe human nature and then turn it into compelling storytelling can be quite entertaining.
Do comics really engage in much "compelling storytelling"? I Googled Mr. Gardell and found the following information about his "hit" show: he stars as "Mike Biggs," an overweight police officer (his name is BIGGS! GET IT???). He meets a woman at an Overeaters Anonymous meeting and they become "an unlikely pair" (comedy - and fat jokes - ahoy!).
But watch out - they must confront "comments, jokes and criticism" from Mike's "fast-talking partner." Other characters are a "slim, drug-addicted sister," a "nymphomaniac mother" and "a Senegalese waiter" (foreigners are funny!). This show sounds terrible, and is thus right up Borsch's alley.
So there were plenty of laughs to go around Friday night at the Keswick Theater in Glenside. And the key for comedians is to tell stories that the rest of us can relate to.
Wow, attending a local show at the Keswick! If only it was the Sellersville Theater, the cliche would be complete. I like how he's pontificating about comedy like he teaches a college seminar on it or something.
I didn’t get all the details because I was giggling too much, but one of Gardell’s bits included something about his mom leaving a house key under the front door mat for him, then leaving a note on the front door telling him the key was under the mat.
So at the Dennis Miller show, Borsch didn't laugh as much as he hoped. For comedic genius Billy Gardell, he was laughing so hard he couldn't even hear the jokes.
During the summer of 1978, I had completed my first year of college, which for me meant that I had completed my first year of college partying. By the time that summer rolled around, I wasn’t exactly interested in ending the college party season.
This "all I did at college was party" thing is becoming a prominent Borsch trope. It also makes me wonder how he got this job.
One night I was out with my buddies, doing what 19-year-old guys do, and I didn’t get home until around 2 a.m. I’m not sure why, but my parents had not given me a house key.
Compelling storytelling at its finest here, folks.
I opened the screen door to see a note, in my mother’s handwriting, on the front door, barely illuminated by the street light. It read: “The key is under your brother.”
In my state of heightened unawareness, my first thought was: “Why is my brother on the front porch and why is he sitting on the house key?” Six years my junior, he would have been around 12 or 13 years old and it would have been well past his bedtime.
Imagine a stand-up comic using this material. It would bring down the house, right? Right? The crickets would be chirping so loud you couldn't hear the jokes.
It took me a few moments of controlled confusion to deduce that I did indeed know where the key was.
Wow, "heightened unawareness," "controlled confusion"... he's really trying to sound brainy here.
My brother’s name is . . . Matt.
I often wonder if a burglar who hadn’t been out with his buddies all night would have been able to figure it out. Apparently, my mom didn’t think sober burglars would know my brother’s name.
The end? I know I often complain that Borsch uses one lame joke for an entire post. Does it count when a post literally exists to tell a single, lame joke?
Labels: Billy Gardell, Keswick Theater, Mike Morsch, Montgomery Newspapers, Outta Leftfield
Friday, June 17, 2011
The Pool Saga Continues
Souderton pool set for Monday, June 20 opening
Published: Friday, June 17, 2011
By Emily Morris
Managing Editor
Are we sure this time?
“We’re hoping by 2 p.m. on Monday to have the gates open,” Borough Manager Michael Coll reported to Souderton Borough Council...
"Hoping"? I would "hope" that you'd know for sure less than three days away.
While the borough hopes to have the competition pool ready for opening day...
There's that word again. How are they not certain?
In response to concerns about the pool’s late opening, the borough has decided to extend the discounted early membership purchase period through July 31. For a family membership with two adults, Souderton Borough residents or full YMCA members, that would be a cost of $275 for the season, plus $5 per dependent, rather than $290.
WOW! A $15 discount! Keep in mind, this pool should have been opened on May 30 - 22 days late (and counting).
In response to an article in last week’s paper where a resident told the Independent she and some neighbors felt the cost for pool memberships was too high, council members noted the new pool had to meet certain requirements including zero depth entry, and the filtration system on the old pool failed.
Um... the cost of the pool is STILL too high. See my "Hero of the Week" entry regarding this totally awesome resident.
Councilman Jeff Gross noted that if residents prefer a pool with fewer amenities that might have cheaper membership rates, they are able to join that type of pool.
“Our prices are based on the facility that we have here in Souderton,” Gross said.
Ah, Souderton arrogance at its finest! "If you don't like our pool, you're welcome to join a crappier one elsewhere." The point is, this pool is TOO EXPENSIVE FOR SOUDERTON. PEOPLE DON'T MAKE ENOUGH. And Mr. Gross, before you start banishing potential members to other pools, you should really make sure this pool doesn't turn into a massive debt-creating millstone around your gaily bearded neck.
The borough has a $500,000 contingency available from Univest if it meets certain needs, and Coll said the borough will likely have to use some part of that money when all is said and done.
BINGO! Here's what I wrote over a year ago: Now apparently, Council plans to use that extra $500,000 as an "emergency" fund in case costs go over estimate (which they inevitably will). "It's our responsibility to not tap into that half million," said Council Prez Brian Goshow at the time.
Somebody might want to remind him of that "responsibility" now that he's failed at it.
Goshow said the borough also has to transition to the experience level of running the new pool.
“We’re in year one now,” Goshow said. “Our previous experience was in year 55, 56, 57.”
Ah, so for the first 40 or 50 years, their failure to make a profit on this boondoggle will be because they haven't "transitioned" to the "experience level" of running this pool (which is totally different from the old pool... how?).
Council members also questioned whether there might be any ability to negotiate with the pool contractors because the pool was not completed for a May 30 opening as originally planned...
Gross noted there could be an argument that some projects were held up for the contractors until the borough crew completed its portion, but that goes both ways.
So in other words, don't expect much back because it was probably Souderton's fault to begin with.
Goshow said he spoke with Wayne Wade of Wade Associates, pool designer and consultant, who noted a pool similar to Souderton’s had earned $11,000 on Memorial Day weekend.
“The reality is not being open is costing us severely,” Goshow said.
HA! I'm loving this! They blew 2 million bucks on this new pool, they'll have to use some (or all) of a 500k emergency fund, nobody is joining, AND they're losing money because they're opening so late. Way to go!
Residents of Souderton - fire all of these idiots.
Published: Friday, June 17, 2011
By Emily Morris
Managing Editor
Are we sure this time?
“We’re hoping by 2 p.m. on Monday to have the gates open,” Borough Manager Michael Coll reported to Souderton Borough Council...
"Hoping"? I would "hope" that you'd know for sure less than three days away.
While the borough hopes to have the competition pool ready for opening day...
There's that word again. How are they not certain?
In response to concerns about the pool’s late opening, the borough has decided to extend the discounted early membership purchase period through July 31. For a family membership with two adults, Souderton Borough residents or full YMCA members, that would be a cost of $275 for the season, plus $5 per dependent, rather than $290.
WOW! A $15 discount! Keep in mind, this pool should have been opened on May 30 - 22 days late (and counting).
In response to an article in last week’s paper where a resident told the Independent she and some neighbors felt the cost for pool memberships was too high, council members noted the new pool had to meet certain requirements including zero depth entry, and the filtration system on the old pool failed.
Um... the cost of the pool is STILL too high. See my "Hero of the Week" entry regarding this totally awesome resident.
Councilman Jeff Gross noted that if residents prefer a pool with fewer amenities that might have cheaper membership rates, they are able to join that type of pool.
“Our prices are based on the facility that we have here in Souderton,” Gross said.
Ah, Souderton arrogance at its finest! "If you don't like our pool, you're welcome to join a crappier one elsewhere." The point is, this pool is TOO EXPENSIVE FOR SOUDERTON. PEOPLE DON'T MAKE ENOUGH. And Mr. Gross, before you start banishing potential members to other pools, you should really make sure this pool doesn't turn into a massive debt-creating millstone around your gaily bearded neck.
The borough has a $500,000 contingency available from Univest if it meets certain needs, and Coll said the borough will likely have to use some part of that money when all is said and done.
BINGO! Here's what I wrote over a year ago: Now apparently, Council plans to use that extra $500,000 as an "emergency" fund in case costs go over estimate (which they inevitably will). "It's our responsibility to not tap into that half million," said Council Prez Brian Goshow at the time.
Somebody might want to remind him of that "responsibility" now that he's failed at it.
Goshow said the borough also has to transition to the experience level of running the new pool.
“We’re in year one now,” Goshow said. “Our previous experience was in year 55, 56, 57.”
Ah, so for the first 40 or 50 years, their failure to make a profit on this boondoggle will be because they haven't "transitioned" to the "experience level" of running this pool (which is totally different from the old pool... how?).
Council members also questioned whether there might be any ability to negotiate with the pool contractors because the pool was not completed for a May 30 opening as originally planned...
Gross noted there could be an argument that some projects were held up for the contractors until the borough crew completed its portion, but that goes both ways.
So in other words, don't expect much back because it was probably Souderton's fault to begin with.
Goshow said he spoke with Wayne Wade of Wade Associates, pool designer and consultant, who noted a pool similar to Souderton’s had earned $11,000 on Memorial Day weekend.
“The reality is not being open is costing us severely,” Goshow said.
HA! I'm loving this! They blew 2 million bucks on this new pool, they'll have to use some (or all) of a 500k emergency fund, nobody is joining, AND they're losing money because they're opening so late. Way to go!
Residents of Souderton - fire all of these idiots.
Guys Say Dumb Things
OUTTA LEFTFIELD: Father's Day marks the 'Silly Sayings Season' for dads
Published: Thursday, June 16, 2011
By Mike Morsch
Executive Editor
Oh joy! It's been at LEAST two or three columns since we've had one focusing on dumb guys and the dumb things they say. Will there be a "Hey kids, get off my lawn" reference? Something about grilling (and burning) food, perhaps?
Dads say the silliest things. It seems to be part of their essential fabric, kind of like wearing Bermuda shorts with black socks and dress shoes and considering it a cutting-edge fashion statement.
So fresh! What, no reference to playing golf or moving to Florida?
My dad had a boatload of favorite sayings, only a few of which didn’t contain a profanity of some sort. It’s one of the many things I miss about him now that he’s gone.
I swear, if he rips off another Jeff Foxworthy routine, I'm going to lose it.
As a school superintendent in a different era, he didn’t use profanities around the students. But he was used to giving directives and having the students follow them. Immediately, if not sooner.
“Don’t just stand there with your teeth in your mouth and your elbow halfway up your arm,” he would say after issuing an order. The literal meaning was, “Get moving!” But the teeth and elbow part of that phrase always seemed to confuse kids, and they’d tilt their heads like dogs hearing a high-pitched sound while they tried to process the information.
Is this really "things dads say"? Shouldn't it be "things school superintendents in a different era say"?
“Wait … my teeth are already in my mouth and my elbow is already … oh, I get it.”
Another of my dad’s favorites that I could never completely interpret was: “Well I’ll be kiss your fanny.” It was an expanded, “Well I’ll be … ” as an exclamation of surprise, but I can’t figure out the “kiss your fanny” part. Kissing fanny was never part of his repertoire, so I’m not sure why he would suggest that he was in such a position.
I'd say kissing fanny is VERY much a part of Borsch's repertoire - witness his interview with every celebrity who is not Dennis Miller.
But no matter how goofy or silly it sounded, I think my dad got a kick out of entertaining himself with language, a character trait I seem to have inherited from him.
You may entertain yourself, sir, but you entertain no one else. Borsch "entertaining himself" with the language is akin to a boy "entertaining himself" by pulling the wings off flies.
My theory on why dads say silly things is that in general, they are characters. Dads have no problem picking their noses, scratching their hind ends, creating funny sounds with various parts of their bodies (would a woman ever have thought of the hand-in-the-armpit tooting routine?), using the great outdoors as their personal rest room and belching the ABCs. I can’t imagine my mom, wife, daughters, stepdaughter, mother-in-law or boss doing any of those things.
And there you have it: dads (he clearly means all guys) are characters who do all kinds of rude, crude things. Right? HA! In all his years he has NEVER explored territory like this before. Guys being dumb, goofy and slobby! This slays me!
When I became a dad, I considered it one of my parental duties to say silly things. But I only use a few of them when my kids are around. The R-rated ones I save for my buddies.
What exactly are the "R-rated" antics? I'm seriously trying to think of what they could be. Violently killing someone? Explicit sexual material?
For example, when we pull into a store parking lot and there is an open space close to the door, I will exclaim, “Executive parking! Did you call ahead?”
Since this immediately follows the "R-rated" remark, one would think this would be an example of such uncensored antics. This is not only pathetically G-rated, but pathetically lame and stupid as well.
Oddly enough, when I’m driving, the closest open parking space is usually in Delaware,
He used this same "can't find nearby parking" gag at least twice in his post about shopping on Memorial Day.
so I don’t get to use that phrase as often. But when The Blonde Accountant is behind the wheel and I’m riding shotgun, she has this uncanny good fortune of finding open parking spots close to the door virtually every single time. It’s almost like the parking lot realizes that she is wearing fabulous-looking shoes, but that having to walk very far in them will most certainly hurt her feet.
Women wearing nice shoes! He's only used that gag 500 times.
Many of my favorites, though, come from movies and they are for the guys only. My dad’s exclamation of surprise was tame compared to my “You gotta be bleepin’ me, Pyle!” That comes from the movie “Full Metal Jacket.”
Really? Because he throws the "sh*ts" and "a$$es" around quite liberally on his Twitter account. Let's hope the kids can't access them Internets!
Older Daughter never knew where that saying came from, and why would she? “Full Metal Jacket” isn’t a movie for kids. But just a few months ago, she and her husband were watching the movie and when the line was said, she jumped up and pointed to the TV, exclaiming, “That’s what my dad always says!”
And thus a lifetime of unoriginality was laid bare. And didn't he just say that these phrases were "for the guys only"? Yet his daughter knows it so well she only identifies it with him?
(I believe that in that instance, my dad would have said, “Well I’ll be kiss your fanny!” at the realization of where the phrase originated. And I think it would have been funnier had Older Daughter had the wherewithal to channel her grandfather there.)
If you say "in that instance," you don't have to add, "at the realization of where the phrase originated." It's already covered.
Another of my favorites: When somebody asks me to do something that is well within my areas of expertise, I respond, “You think this is the first hole I ever dug?” That’s a Joe Pesci line straight out of “Goodfellas.”
So this is not so much "silly things dads say" as "lines I repeat from movies."
I also take several lines from “Animal House,” the cleanest of which is “Good, good, good!” That one is said by Faber College’s Dean Vernon Wormer when he finds out the Delta House guys’ grades are bad enough to get them expelled. I utilize “Good, good, good!” during those times when I experience something that’s, well … good. Upon further reflection, maybe there isn’t a whole lot of creativity exhibited in the execution of this line.
There isn't a whole lot of creativity in anything he does, really.
Makes the hand-in-the-armpit tooting routine seem downright brilliant, doesn’t it?
I'd say that much of Borsch's material is equal in quality to armpit-created fart noises, actually.
On this Father’s Day weekend, I encourage all you silly dads to not just stand there with your teeth in your mouth and your elbow halfway up your arm waiting for someone to kiss your fanny. Get out and enjoy the day. If you’re lucky, you just might find some executive parking in your travels, which would be good, good, good!
I'm so glad that the average American dad is much, much more clever than this.
As for those Bermuda shorts with the black socks and dress shoes … you gotta be bleepin’ me, Pyle.
Just to sum up, this column seemed to promise a number of universal "dad" phrases. You know, things he has culled from a lifetime observing others. What we got was the following:
(1) Something his dad said to students (not his own kids)
(2) Something his dad used to say (to anyone, presumably)
(3) Something Borsch says in parking lots (he only mentions his wife, not his kids)
(4) 3 movie lines Borsch repeats (but not to his kids, because they're "for guys only")
So basically NONE of the "sayings" he relates are in any way tied with fatherhood OR with Father's Day. They aren't things he says to his kids; they aren't things he says to other parents. They're just random quotes from people who happen to be fathers. Nice effort, Borsch.
Published: Thursday, June 16, 2011
By Mike Morsch
Executive Editor
Oh joy! It's been at LEAST two or three columns since we've had one focusing on dumb guys and the dumb things they say. Will there be a "Hey kids, get off my lawn" reference? Something about grilling (and burning) food, perhaps?
Dads say the silliest things. It seems to be part of their essential fabric, kind of like wearing Bermuda shorts with black socks and dress shoes and considering it a cutting-edge fashion statement.
So fresh! What, no reference to playing golf or moving to Florida?
My dad had a boatload of favorite sayings, only a few of which didn’t contain a profanity of some sort. It’s one of the many things I miss about him now that he’s gone.
I swear, if he rips off another Jeff Foxworthy routine, I'm going to lose it.
As a school superintendent in a different era, he didn’t use profanities around the students. But he was used to giving directives and having the students follow them. Immediately, if not sooner.
“Don’t just stand there with your teeth in your mouth and your elbow halfway up your arm,” he would say after issuing an order. The literal meaning was, “Get moving!” But the teeth and elbow part of that phrase always seemed to confuse kids, and they’d tilt their heads like dogs hearing a high-pitched sound while they tried to process the information.
Is this really "things dads say"? Shouldn't it be "things school superintendents in a different era say"?
“Wait … my teeth are already in my mouth and my elbow is already … oh, I get it.”
Another of my dad’s favorites that I could never completely interpret was: “Well I’ll be kiss your fanny.” It was an expanded, “Well I’ll be … ” as an exclamation of surprise, but I can’t figure out the “kiss your fanny” part. Kissing fanny was never part of his repertoire, so I’m not sure why he would suggest that he was in such a position.
I'd say kissing fanny is VERY much a part of Borsch's repertoire - witness his interview with every celebrity who is not Dennis Miller.
But no matter how goofy or silly it sounded, I think my dad got a kick out of entertaining himself with language, a character trait I seem to have inherited from him.
You may entertain yourself, sir, but you entertain no one else. Borsch "entertaining himself" with the language is akin to a boy "entertaining himself" by pulling the wings off flies.
My theory on why dads say silly things is that in general, they are characters. Dads have no problem picking their noses, scratching their hind ends, creating funny sounds with various parts of their bodies (would a woman ever have thought of the hand-in-the-armpit tooting routine?), using the great outdoors as their personal rest room and belching the ABCs. I can’t imagine my mom, wife, daughters, stepdaughter, mother-in-law or boss doing any of those things.
And there you have it: dads (he clearly means all guys) are characters who do all kinds of rude, crude things. Right? HA! In all his years he has NEVER explored territory like this before. Guys being dumb, goofy and slobby! This slays me!
When I became a dad, I considered it one of my parental duties to say silly things. But I only use a few of them when my kids are around. The R-rated ones I save for my buddies.
What exactly are the "R-rated" antics? I'm seriously trying to think of what they could be. Violently killing someone? Explicit sexual material?
For example, when we pull into a store parking lot and there is an open space close to the door, I will exclaim, “Executive parking! Did you call ahead?”
Since this immediately follows the "R-rated" remark, one would think this would be an example of such uncensored antics. This is not only pathetically G-rated, but pathetically lame and stupid as well.
Oddly enough, when I’m driving, the closest open parking space is usually in Delaware,
He used this same "can't find nearby parking" gag at least twice in his post about shopping on Memorial Day.
so I don’t get to use that phrase as often. But when The Blonde Accountant is behind the wheel and I’m riding shotgun, she has this uncanny good fortune of finding open parking spots close to the door virtually every single time. It’s almost like the parking lot realizes that she is wearing fabulous-looking shoes, but that having to walk very far in them will most certainly hurt her feet.
Women wearing nice shoes! He's only used that gag 500 times.
Many of my favorites, though, come from movies and they are for the guys only. My dad’s exclamation of surprise was tame compared to my “You gotta be bleepin’ me, Pyle!” That comes from the movie “Full Metal Jacket.”
Really? Because he throws the "sh*ts" and "a$$es" around quite liberally on his Twitter account. Let's hope the kids can't access them Internets!
Older Daughter never knew where that saying came from, and why would she? “Full Metal Jacket” isn’t a movie for kids. But just a few months ago, she and her husband were watching the movie and when the line was said, she jumped up and pointed to the TV, exclaiming, “That’s what my dad always says!”
And thus a lifetime of unoriginality was laid bare. And didn't he just say that these phrases were "for the guys only"? Yet his daughter knows it so well she only identifies it with him?
(I believe that in that instance, my dad would have said, “Well I’ll be kiss your fanny!” at the realization of where the phrase originated. And I think it would have been funnier had Older Daughter had the wherewithal to channel her grandfather there.)
If you say "in that instance," you don't have to add, "at the realization of where the phrase originated." It's already covered.
Another of my favorites: When somebody asks me to do something that is well within my areas of expertise, I respond, “You think this is the first hole I ever dug?” That’s a Joe Pesci line straight out of “Goodfellas.”
So this is not so much "silly things dads say" as "lines I repeat from movies."
I also take several lines from “Animal House,” the cleanest of which is “Good, good, good!” That one is said by Faber College’s Dean Vernon Wormer when he finds out the Delta House guys’ grades are bad enough to get them expelled. I utilize “Good, good, good!” during those times when I experience something that’s, well … good. Upon further reflection, maybe there isn’t a whole lot of creativity exhibited in the execution of this line.
There isn't a whole lot of creativity in anything he does, really.
Makes the hand-in-the-armpit tooting routine seem downright brilliant, doesn’t it?
I'd say that much of Borsch's material is equal in quality to armpit-created fart noises, actually.
On this Father’s Day weekend, I encourage all you silly dads to not just stand there with your teeth in your mouth and your elbow halfway up your arm waiting for someone to kiss your fanny. Get out and enjoy the day. If you’re lucky, you just might find some executive parking in your travels, which would be good, good, good!
I'm so glad that the average American dad is much, much more clever than this.
As for those Bermuda shorts with the black socks and dress shoes … you gotta be bleepin’ me, Pyle.
Just to sum up, this column seemed to promise a number of universal "dad" phrases. You know, things he has culled from a lifetime observing others. What we got was the following:
(1) Something his dad said to students (not his own kids)
(2) Something his dad used to say (to anyone, presumably)
(3) Something Borsch says in parking lots (he only mentions his wife, not his kids)
(4) 3 movie lines Borsch repeats (but not to his kids, because they're "for guys only")
So basically NONE of the "sayings" he relates are in any way tied with fatherhood OR with Father's Day. They aren't things he says to his kids; they aren't things he says to other parents. They're just random quotes from people who happen to be fathers. Nice effort, Borsch.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Hero of the Week: Lauren Hagelgans
Souderton resident questions pool membership cost
Published: Friday, June 10, 2011
By Erin DuBois
Associate Editor
The saga continues, folks!
Temperatures are not the only thing on the rise in Souderton. Some borough residents say the rising cost of pool membership may keep them from beating the heat this summer.
“The prices have skyrocketed from what they were,” said Lauren Hagelgans. “I understand that they put $3 million into the pool, but we didn’t ask them to. We didn’t get raises.”
Ms. Hagelgans is awesome. As she states, in 2009 a single-parent family membership was $130; this year's cost will be $250 through June 30, $265 after, and an extra $5 per child. The increases at every level are fairly massive.
But according to Souderton Borough Manager P. Michael Coll, comparing prices with other local aquatic centers provides a more fair comparison...
“You simply can’t compare the rate to what we were charging in 2009,” Coll said.
Of course not - because comparing it to 2009 makes it look really, really bad. So he comparies it to pools in Hatfield and Perkasie, which are slightly more expensive. Here are some figures Coll fails to mention (from Wikipedia):
Souderton Avg. Income - $47,437 (Household), $57,200 (Family)
Perkasie Avg. Income - $52,000 (Household), $57,247 (Family)
Hatfield Avg. Income - $57,247 (Household), $68,409 (Family)
So can you really compare those rates, either? What a dope.
"It’s really not the same and the community is not the same,” Hagelgans said of comparing Souderton to other municipalities. “I’m not saying we’re low income but we’re certainly not high income families.”
God bless you, Ms. Hagelgans. Stick it to them! Stick it to them good! Just destroyed his entire argument.
“We keep venting and nothing happens,” Hagelgans said.
"Keep venting and nothing happens" is Borough Council's motto.
Souderton’s rates reflect the investment the borough put into the pool, Coll said. Borough council voted 5-4 in favor of the project when it was faced with the decision of eliminating swimming because of the condition of the old pool.
“There was quite a lot of debate to move this project forward,” Coll said.
I don't see how the fact that it was a close vote makes it any easier to eat an extra $100 a year.
The donations will help soften the debt service but the borough will still need to kick in some additional money from the general fund, Coll said.
Well well, what a surprise! Souderton takes on debt it can't handle.
A cold winter and rainy spring pushed back the scheduled Memorial Day opening to June 20, but some construction will occur after the pool opens.
...
“Safety is certainly a concern,” Coll said. “If we can’t get the permits and don’t feel it’s a safe environment, we certainly won’t be able to open.”
What happened to the "confidence" we had that the pool would open on time? Sounds like someone is hedging awfully hard...
More likely, however, the leisure pool would open with the competition pool lagging behind a few days, Coll said.
Some amenities like deck furniture and picnic tables may be missing until a little later in the season...
Be honest - this is going to be a disaster, isn't it? Sounds like someone (a Borough Manager, perhaps) should have managed things a little bit better.
Hagelgans, however, said that she is left with the option of not swimming, the same option she had before the borough decided to refurbish the pool.
“I’ve lived in Souderton six years and this doesn’t make me want to stay here,” Hagelgans said. “I don’t think this $3 million pool is going to attract people to move to the borough.”
BINGO. Ms. Hagelgans, you should run for Mayor. Or Council. Or, heck, put in an application for Borough Manager! You've got more brains than any of them. This woman is a champion, and Souderton needs more like her or they're going to lose EVERYONE like her. Lauren Hagelgans, wherever you are, you are our first (and probably only) ever Hero of the Week.
Published: Friday, June 10, 2011
By Erin DuBois
Associate Editor
The saga continues, folks!
Temperatures are not the only thing on the rise in Souderton. Some borough residents say the rising cost of pool membership may keep them from beating the heat this summer.
“The prices have skyrocketed from what they were,” said Lauren Hagelgans. “I understand that they put $3 million into the pool, but we didn’t ask them to. We didn’t get raises.”
Ms. Hagelgans is awesome. As she states, in 2009 a single-parent family membership was $130; this year's cost will be $250 through June 30, $265 after, and an extra $5 per child. The increases at every level are fairly massive.
But according to Souderton Borough Manager P. Michael Coll, comparing prices with other local aquatic centers provides a more fair comparison...
“You simply can’t compare the rate to what we were charging in 2009,” Coll said.
Of course not - because comparing it to 2009 makes it look really, really bad. So he comparies it to pools in Hatfield and Perkasie, which are slightly more expensive. Here are some figures Coll fails to mention (from Wikipedia):
Souderton Avg. Income - $47,437 (Household), $57,200 (Family)
Perkasie Avg. Income - $52,000 (Household), $57,247 (Family)
Hatfield Avg. Income - $57,247 (Household), $68,409 (Family)
So can you really compare those rates, either? What a dope.
"It’s really not the same and the community is not the same,” Hagelgans said of comparing Souderton to other municipalities. “I’m not saying we’re low income but we’re certainly not high income families.”
God bless you, Ms. Hagelgans. Stick it to them! Stick it to them good! Just destroyed his entire argument.
“We keep venting and nothing happens,” Hagelgans said.
"Keep venting and nothing happens" is Borough Council's motto.
Souderton’s rates reflect the investment the borough put into the pool, Coll said. Borough council voted 5-4 in favor of the project when it was faced with the decision of eliminating swimming because of the condition of the old pool.
“There was quite a lot of debate to move this project forward,” Coll said.
I don't see how the fact that it was a close vote makes it any easier to eat an extra $100 a year.
The donations will help soften the debt service but the borough will still need to kick in some additional money from the general fund, Coll said.
Well well, what a surprise! Souderton takes on debt it can't handle.
A cold winter and rainy spring pushed back the scheduled Memorial Day opening to June 20, but some construction will occur after the pool opens.
...
“Safety is certainly a concern,” Coll said. “If we can’t get the permits and don’t feel it’s a safe environment, we certainly won’t be able to open.”
What happened to the "confidence" we had that the pool would open on time? Sounds like someone is hedging awfully hard...
More likely, however, the leisure pool would open with the competition pool lagging behind a few days, Coll said.
Some amenities like deck furniture and picnic tables may be missing until a little later in the season...
Be honest - this is going to be a disaster, isn't it? Sounds like someone (a Borough Manager, perhaps) should have managed things a little bit better.
Hagelgans, however, said that she is left with the option of not swimming, the same option she had before the borough decided to refurbish the pool.
“I’ve lived in Souderton six years and this doesn’t make me want to stay here,” Hagelgans said. “I don’t think this $3 million pool is going to attract people to move to the borough.”
BINGO. Ms. Hagelgans, you should run for Mayor. Or Council. Or, heck, put in an application for Borough Manager! You've got more brains than any of them. This woman is a champion, and Souderton needs more like her or they're going to lose EVERYONE like her. Lauren Hagelgans, wherever you are, you are our first (and probably only) ever Hero of the Week.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
The Cliche Train Keeps Rolling
Rightfield. Cheesesteak. Spillage. Beautimous.
3 hours ago via Twitter for Android
Amazing. He just never stops.
3 hours ago via Twitter for Android
Amazing. He just never stops.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Leather Materials are Amusing
OUTTA LEFTFIELD: Getting coached on the intricacies of genuine water buffalo
Published: Tuesday, June 07, 2011
Dare I guess that Borsch is about to write about a topic he doesn't fully understand and about the merits of which he is rather dubious?
Here’s a sentence I never thought I’d write: I’m now carrying a water buffalo in my pocket.
Uh ... I may need a bigger pocket.
Is this supposed to be a "we're gonna need a bigger boat" Jaws reference?
There just aren’t too many daily situations or conversations where the words “water buffalo” come into play. In fact, the first and only water buffalo reference I can remember in my life was when I was a kid watching “The Flintstones.”
This is great - we aren't even on-topic yet and we're already off-topic!
Fred and Barney were members of the Loyal Order of Water Buffaloes Lodge No. 26, whose members wore really cool hats with horns and whose president was called The Grand Poobah. For you cartoon trivia buffs, the lodge’s secret password was “Ack, Ack, A-Dak.”
... This isn't funny.
But the water buffalo entered my life once again on this past Memorial Day. With no better plans in the offing — and that alone exposes a major flaw in our family’s holiday planning procedures — we found ourselves out at Limerick Outlet Mall with about a bazillion other people who obviously thought that shopping was a better option than having a picnic or going to a ballgame on a holiday weekend.
Morsch tortures the English language with his keyboard like a Medieval turnkey tortured peasants with the rack. He gets a perverse pleasure out of stretching sentences far past their normal limits.
Of course, some of the reason for the big crowd had to do with the big sales going on, which I’m told by the shopping experts in the family is not an unusual occurrence on Memorial Day.
How many things can this man not know about??? I know it's part of the "joke" that he doesn't know things, but really, sales on Memorial Day? Will he claim ignorance re: Black Friday sales next?
That the sales attracted a crowd was immediately evident upon our arrival to the outlet mall. The number of cars in the parking lot suggested the nearest open parking spot might be in King of Prussia.
So after stating that "a bazillion people" were at the Outlets, we once again have to establish that a lot of people were there (a bazillion, by the way, is also the number of years ago Babe Ruth did something in baseball, according to a recent column).
Swell. Fortunately, my exercise routine includes walking several miles a week, so I was not intimidated.
Watch out men - this guy walks with the best of them!
I dropped the shoppers off near the point in the mall where they intended to spend my money and went in search of a parking spot, which I eventually did find in the back 40 of the lot.
So after stating how scarce parking was... we once again have to state how scarce parking was.
As I was making my way in from the parking lot, a text message arrived from The Blonde Accountant: “At the Coach store, and it’s a jailbreak.”
“Jailbreak” is a term in our family that we use to mean, “It’s crazy-go-nuts with people in here.”
Uh-oh - cue the "heart" of the story, which I'm guessing will be how guys don't understand the Coach phenomenon.
Gentlemen, if you’ve never experienced a jailbreak at a Coach store having a sale, it’s a real treat. Imagine hundreds of women overdosing on the smell of leather and the potential to snag an overpriced handbag or wallet at a somewhat reasonable price.
Does he actually think he's the first to comment on these cultural trends? People were making jokes about overpriced, trendy Coach bags four or five years ago.
In what may be a surprising detail to some of you, I occasionally shop at the Coach store, despite the fact that it does not serve beer with its handbags.
Beer joke! The hits keep on comin'!
The reason I do is that the founders of the company drew inspiration from a leather baseball glove to create handbags with the same concept where the more they are used, the softer and smoother they become. Given that connection, straight from the company bio, The Blonde Accountant has yet to be convinced that we can have a catch using a couple of her Coach handbags as ball gloves.
Good Lord. This man really cannot write a column in which he doesn't employ at least half a dozen of his personal cliches. Not only does he work baseball into a discussion about purses, he even inserts a "ballpark" and a "ballglove."
By the way, look at that first sentence. It's as bloated and clumsy as Borsch himself. I'd be embarassed to turn in a college paper with a sentence like that, let alone a published column. What a hack.
So I carry both a Coach wallet and money clip, which usually is just wishful thinking on my part because after I pay for the wallet, there isn’t anything left to put in the money clip.
This presents something of a "chicken and the egg" conundrum - if his money clip is always empty because he has just paid for a wallet, how can he always carry both a wallet and a money clip?
But I was in need of both, and the big Coach sale provided me the opportunity to purchase them, but only after being knocked down seven times by the scores of women flitting about the store in their leather-induced haze.
Seven must be a funny number to Borsch (see "seven kinds of heck"). So he has a wallet, a money clip empty because he had to pay for the wallet, and a need to purchase both a wallet in money clip. This should be impossible.
It was only when we got home at the end of the shopping excursion that The Blonde Accountant pointed out a detail that I had overlooked.
“Did you know that your new wallet is made of water buffalo?” she said.
COMEDY!
“What? Water buffalo? Since when did water buffalo move to the top of the leather wallet food chain? You’re making that up,” I said.
He never said that. Totally fictional exchange.
Apparently not. In the Coach shopping bag there was a card that was slipped in by the checker that detailed how to care for a water buffalo wallet. It read: “Do not use Coach Leather Cleaner or Moisturizer on water buffalo accessories. Ink marks or grease stains should be left untreated; most will eventually blend into the darker leathers. Scratches or scuffs can generally be removed simply by rubbing them with your fingertips until the natural oils in your hand cause the marks to disappear.”
Is all that supposed to be funny? Did we really need to read the whole text of the card?
To which I responded: “There is a whole line of water buffalo accessories?” Besides, I never cared enough about a wallet to care for it anyway.
Keep in mind, we're now two paragraphs away from the end of the story, and we're just now reaching the "point" - which is that his wallet is dumb, I guess.
So now I carry a water buffalo wallet in my pocket. My sense is that now qualifies me to use the Loyal Order of Water Buffaloes Lodge secret password of “Ack, Ack, A-Dak,” which I’ve come to believe in prehistoric English means, “Show us your Coach water buffalo wallet and empty money clip.”
This money clip/wallet thing makes no sense. Another thing making no sense is the "water buffalo in my pocket" joke from the beginning. Hey, I'm wearing a cow on my feet! And a sheep on my body! Har dee har har har.
And as a bonus, I’m looking forward to wearing the Water Buffalo hat, if for no other reason than as protective headgear. It should be the perfect accessory for the next big Coach sale.
Terrible. I understand this is just a small newspaper group and all, but this is the best they can do for a "humor" column? And how desperate were they for an editor that they hired this guy?
Published: Tuesday, June 07, 2011
Dare I guess that Borsch is about to write about a topic he doesn't fully understand and about the merits of which he is rather dubious?
Here’s a sentence I never thought I’d write: I’m now carrying a water buffalo in my pocket.
Uh ... I may need a bigger pocket.
Is this supposed to be a "we're gonna need a bigger boat" Jaws reference?
There just aren’t too many daily situations or conversations where the words “water buffalo” come into play. In fact, the first and only water buffalo reference I can remember in my life was when I was a kid watching “The Flintstones.”
This is great - we aren't even on-topic yet and we're already off-topic!
Fred and Barney were members of the Loyal Order of Water Buffaloes Lodge No. 26, whose members wore really cool hats with horns and whose president was called The Grand Poobah. For you cartoon trivia buffs, the lodge’s secret password was “Ack, Ack, A-Dak.”
... This isn't funny.
But the water buffalo entered my life once again on this past Memorial Day. With no better plans in the offing — and that alone exposes a major flaw in our family’s holiday planning procedures — we found ourselves out at Limerick Outlet Mall with about a bazillion other people who obviously thought that shopping was a better option than having a picnic or going to a ballgame on a holiday weekend.
Morsch tortures the English language with his keyboard like a Medieval turnkey tortured peasants with the rack. He gets a perverse pleasure out of stretching sentences far past their normal limits.
Of course, some of the reason for the big crowd had to do with the big sales going on, which I’m told by the shopping experts in the family is not an unusual occurrence on Memorial Day.
How many things can this man not know about??? I know it's part of the "joke" that he doesn't know things, but really, sales on Memorial Day? Will he claim ignorance re: Black Friday sales next?
That the sales attracted a crowd was immediately evident upon our arrival to the outlet mall. The number of cars in the parking lot suggested the nearest open parking spot might be in King of Prussia.
So after stating that "a bazillion people" were at the Outlets, we once again have to establish that a lot of people were there (a bazillion, by the way, is also the number of years ago Babe Ruth did something in baseball, according to a recent column).
Swell. Fortunately, my exercise routine includes walking several miles a week, so I was not intimidated.
Watch out men - this guy walks with the best of them!
I dropped the shoppers off near the point in the mall where they intended to spend my money and went in search of a parking spot, which I eventually did find in the back 40 of the lot.
So after stating how scarce parking was... we once again have to state how scarce parking was.
As I was making my way in from the parking lot, a text message arrived from The Blonde Accountant: “At the Coach store, and it’s a jailbreak.”
“Jailbreak” is a term in our family that we use to mean, “It’s crazy-go-nuts with people in here.”
Uh-oh - cue the "heart" of the story, which I'm guessing will be how guys don't understand the Coach phenomenon.
Gentlemen, if you’ve never experienced a jailbreak at a Coach store having a sale, it’s a real treat. Imagine hundreds of women overdosing on the smell of leather and the potential to snag an overpriced handbag or wallet at a somewhat reasonable price.
Does he actually think he's the first to comment on these cultural trends? People were making jokes about overpriced, trendy Coach bags four or five years ago.
In what may be a surprising detail to some of you, I occasionally shop at the Coach store, despite the fact that it does not serve beer with its handbags.
Beer joke! The hits keep on comin'!
The reason I do is that the founders of the company drew inspiration from a leather baseball glove to create handbags with the same concept where the more they are used, the softer and smoother they become. Given that connection, straight from the company bio, The Blonde Accountant has yet to be convinced that we can have a catch using a couple of her Coach handbags as ball gloves.
Good Lord. This man really cannot write a column in which he doesn't employ at least half a dozen of his personal cliches. Not only does he work baseball into a discussion about purses, he even inserts a "ballpark" and a "ballglove."
By the way, look at that first sentence. It's as bloated and clumsy as Borsch himself. I'd be embarassed to turn in a college paper with a sentence like that, let alone a published column. What a hack.
So I carry both a Coach wallet and money clip, which usually is just wishful thinking on my part because after I pay for the wallet, there isn’t anything left to put in the money clip.
This presents something of a "chicken and the egg" conundrum - if his money clip is always empty because he has just paid for a wallet, how can he always carry both a wallet and a money clip?
But I was in need of both, and the big Coach sale provided me the opportunity to purchase them, but only after being knocked down seven times by the scores of women flitting about the store in their leather-induced haze.
Seven must be a funny number to Borsch (see "seven kinds of heck"). So he has a wallet, a money clip empty because he had to pay for the wallet, and a need to purchase both a wallet in money clip. This should be impossible.
It was only when we got home at the end of the shopping excursion that The Blonde Accountant pointed out a detail that I had overlooked.
“Did you know that your new wallet is made of water buffalo?” she said.
COMEDY!
“What? Water buffalo? Since when did water buffalo move to the top of the leather wallet food chain? You’re making that up,” I said.
He never said that. Totally fictional exchange.
Apparently not. In the Coach shopping bag there was a card that was slipped in by the checker that detailed how to care for a water buffalo wallet. It read: “Do not use Coach Leather Cleaner or Moisturizer on water buffalo accessories. Ink marks or grease stains should be left untreated; most will eventually blend into the darker leathers. Scratches or scuffs can generally be removed simply by rubbing them with your fingertips until the natural oils in your hand cause the marks to disappear.”
Is all that supposed to be funny? Did we really need to read the whole text of the card?
To which I responded: “There is a whole line of water buffalo accessories?” Besides, I never cared enough about a wallet to care for it anyway.
Keep in mind, we're now two paragraphs away from the end of the story, and we're just now reaching the "point" - which is that his wallet is dumb, I guess.
So now I carry a water buffalo wallet in my pocket. My sense is that now qualifies me to use the Loyal Order of Water Buffaloes Lodge secret password of “Ack, Ack, A-Dak,” which I’ve come to believe in prehistoric English means, “Show us your Coach water buffalo wallet and empty money clip.”
This money clip/wallet thing makes no sense. Another thing making no sense is the "water buffalo in my pocket" joke from the beginning. Hey, I'm wearing a cow on my feet! And a sheep on my body! Har dee har har har.
And as a bonus, I’m looking forward to wearing the Water Buffalo hat, if for no other reason than as protective headgear. It should be the perfect accessory for the next big Coach sale.
Terrible. I understand this is just a small newspaper group and all, but this is the best they can do for a "humor" column? And how desperate were they for an editor that they hired this guy?
Monday, June 6, 2011
Yet Another Jane Seymour Article
Monday, June 6, 2011
Seeing more of Jane
Jane Seymour was already one of the "top interviews of 2010." Much like the Stooges convention, Ms. Seymour's annual return to the Wentworth Gallery provides endless repeat material for Borsch.
Jane Seymour was in town again last weekend and I volunteered to put in extra hours after my regular shift to go out and interview her. I’ll tell you, all we do around here is work, work, work.
Does he get paid any kind of overtime for this? No wonder he hogs all the celebrity interviews.
For the third straight year, Ms. Seymour had a showing of her original paintings and sculptures at Wentworth Gallery in the King of Prussia Plaza. She’s becoming a regular here in suburban Philly.
I suppose so, if appearing in one place 3 out of 1,095 days makes you a "regular."
The film and television star — and let’s not forget, a Bond Girl as well, and we know that James Bond didn’t hang around with any unattractive women — was once again stunning, this time in a purple dress and peep-toed black heels.
That's up for debate - recall Rosie Carver from Ms. Seymour's own Live and Let Die. Few things disgust me more than Borsch droolingly describing a woman.
Among her many projects — she’s fresh off a gig as a correspondent for Entertainment Tonight covering the recent Royal Wedding between Prince William and Kate Middleton — Ms. Seymour has become a serious painter over the past several years. Her work is for serious art collectors with serious wallets.
How many dashed-off asides can he work into this story? His actual interview is full of them, and they're often completely unrelated to the sentence into which they're planted.
My wallet is genuine water buffalo and there is nothing serious about it. Or what’s in it. Admittedly, though, when it comes to Jane Seymour, I seriously wish my name was Roger Moore and it was 1973 again.
So basically: "I can't afford her paintings, but I wish I had sex with her when she was 22." You're not worthy to say the name "Roger Moore," sir. There doesn't need to be a comma between "admittedly" and "though."
She’s always been a good interview and she does a nice job interacting with the fans and collectors at the gallery events.
ALERT! ALERT! GRACIOUS CELEBRITY IN THE AREA! Residents should prepare for fan interaction, picture posing, and polite replies to interviewer questions.
In addition, Wentworth gallery Director Tom Curley always puts on an elegant soiree for Ms. Seymour, one befitting a Hollywood star.
One thing about these local events (save the Dennis Miller comedy show): Borsch never has a bad thing to say about any of them. Is it any wonder his work is so edgy and controversial?
My favorite pieces this year were self portraits of her and the late Christopher Reeve from the 1980 film “Somewhere in Time,” in which they both starred.
Why? What did he like about them? What did they look like?
Covering these art gallery shows starring Jane Seymour can be tough duty, what with all the wine sipping I have to do while holding a video camera and conducting an interview.
But hey, somebody has to do it.
In his "Best Interviews of 2010" article, Borsch says this in reference to last year's Jane Seymour article: "It was pretty much the same... story as the one I wrote last year when she appeared at the gallery." So there you have it - three straight years of basically the same material.
If Borsch really is, as he claims, a "humor columnist dealing with life's little stupidities"... what was stupid about this basic story? What was humorous about it?
Labels: Jane Seymour, Mike Morsch, Montgomery Newspapers, Outta Leftfield, Wentworth Gallery
Seeing more of Jane
Jane Seymour was already one of the "top interviews of 2010." Much like the Stooges convention, Ms. Seymour's annual return to the Wentworth Gallery provides endless repeat material for Borsch.
Jane Seymour was in town again last weekend and I volunteered to put in extra hours after my regular shift to go out and interview her. I’ll tell you, all we do around here is work, work, work.
Does he get paid any kind of overtime for this? No wonder he hogs all the celebrity interviews.
For the third straight year, Ms. Seymour had a showing of her original paintings and sculptures at Wentworth Gallery in the King of Prussia Plaza. She’s becoming a regular here in suburban Philly.
I suppose so, if appearing in one place 3 out of 1,095 days makes you a "regular."
The film and television star — and let’s not forget, a Bond Girl as well, and we know that James Bond didn’t hang around with any unattractive women — was once again stunning, this time in a purple dress and peep-toed black heels.
That's up for debate - recall Rosie Carver from Ms. Seymour's own Live and Let Die. Few things disgust me more than Borsch droolingly describing a woman.
Among her many projects — she’s fresh off a gig as a correspondent for Entertainment Tonight covering the recent Royal Wedding between Prince William and Kate Middleton — Ms. Seymour has become a serious painter over the past several years. Her work is for serious art collectors with serious wallets.
How many dashed-off asides can he work into this story? His actual interview is full of them, and they're often completely unrelated to the sentence into which they're planted.
My wallet is genuine water buffalo and there is nothing serious about it. Or what’s in it. Admittedly, though, when it comes to Jane Seymour, I seriously wish my name was Roger Moore and it was 1973 again.
So basically: "I can't afford her paintings, but I wish I had sex with her when she was 22." You're not worthy to say the name "Roger Moore," sir. There doesn't need to be a comma between "admittedly" and "though."
She’s always been a good interview and she does a nice job interacting with the fans and collectors at the gallery events.
ALERT! ALERT! GRACIOUS CELEBRITY IN THE AREA! Residents should prepare for fan interaction, picture posing, and polite replies to interviewer questions.
In addition, Wentworth gallery Director Tom Curley always puts on an elegant soiree for Ms. Seymour, one befitting a Hollywood star.
One thing about these local events (save the Dennis Miller comedy show): Borsch never has a bad thing to say about any of them. Is it any wonder his work is so edgy and controversial?
My favorite pieces this year were self portraits of her and the late Christopher Reeve from the 1980 film “Somewhere in Time,” in which they both starred.
Why? What did he like about them? What did they look like?
Covering these art gallery shows starring Jane Seymour can be tough duty, what with all the wine sipping I have to do while holding a video camera and conducting an interview.
But hey, somebody has to do it.
In his "Best Interviews of 2010" article, Borsch says this in reference to last year's Jane Seymour article: "It was pretty much the same... story as the one I wrote last year when she appeared at the gallery." So there you have it - three straight years of basically the same material.
If Borsch really is, as he claims, a "humor columnist dealing with life's little stupidities"... what was stupid about this basic story? What was humorous about it?
Labels: Jane Seymour, Mike Morsch, Montgomery Newspapers, Outta Leftfield, Wentworth Gallery
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Field of Lames
So I was sitting around the other day thinking, "Boy, it's been at least a few days since Borsch has written an article about baseball!"
OUTTA LEFTFIELD: It took 19 innings to score a treasured father-daughter memory
Published: Wednesday, June 01, 2011
By Mike Morsch
Executive Editor
"Score." Because you score runs in baseball.
There’s always been a rule in our family: Never leave a ballgame early. It’s not only because something fun or unusual might happen, but because we go to the ballpark to enjoy the game, its sounds, smells and ambiance, not because we want to leave early and beat the traffic home.
First paragraph and we already have a "ballgame" and a "ballpark." I wonder if he brought his ballglove to catch a foul baseballball!
Well, the Phillies certainly tested that rule last week with their 19-inning tilt against the Cincinnati Reds.
And yep, I was there. For … the … whole … thing. All six hours and 14 minutes’ worth.
He makes it sound like this is a big chore, after a whole paragraph spent extolling the virtues of staying the whole game.
Joining me for the bonus baseball was Older Daughter, who has grown up with the family’s rules and is well aware of them.
That's a little redundant, isn't it? She grew up with them. AND is well aware of them! Also, she knows them!
I had reminded her in passing as the game entered the 10th inning that we never leave a game early. At that point, neither of us suspected we’d be there for another nine innings.
“I know the family rule,” she said matter-of-factly.
Isn't THIS a little redundant? The story so far: he established that the Morsch family stays for extra innings, and Older Daughter knows that. Then Morsch reminds Older Daughter that they stay for extra innings, and she confirms that she knows that.
As if to further demonstrate her understanding of the family rules, she turned to me after the 18th inning and said: “It would be kind of a half-assed effort on our part if we were to leave after the 18th inning, wouldn’t it?”
Woah woah woah, not even a warning that this column contains PG-13 material? He warns viewers to look away when he discusses poop, but tosses a casual "ass" out there?
Atta girl. When one’s daughter describes a six-hour, 18-inning effort at 1 a.m. as “half-assed” if we don’t see it through to the end, then that demonstrates a pretty good grasp of the We Never Leave a Ballgame Early Rule.
Nice elaborate made-up title. Also, this is the third time we've established that Older Daughter knows this rule.
Given my affinity for hotdogs mentioned in this space over the years, you might think a 19-inning ballgame would provide more than an ample opportunity to see if I could eat every hotdog in the ballpark.
Ballgame! Ballpark! Hot dogs! Is Borsch trying to do an Adam West Batman-style self-parody?
Oddly enough, I didn’t have a single dog that evening, which in hindsight is admittedly an error in judgment. I’m going to have to make a new family rule to address that: Never Go to a Ballgame Without Eating at Least a Half Dozen Hotdogs.
He might also create a The More Words I Use the Funnier I Become rule. How many little asides does he need to make a sentence amusing? "Oddly enough," "in hindsight," "admittedly"... These are the things that probably look hilarious to him while he's piling them on, but try actually reading them.
Among the unique aspects of the game was that the Phils’ winning pitcher ended up being position player Wilson Valdez, who became the first player to start a game in the field and end up getting the win on the hill since Babe Ruth did it a bazillion years ago. Raise your hand if you thought the names Babe Ruth and Wilson Valdez would ever be mentioned in the same sentence for any reason.
Was this one of the great memories he shared with Older Daughter? She seems to have vanished... Borsch is punishing us with all these extra details. Given all the clauses he jams into that first sentence is "getting the win on the hill" really necessary? Where else would you get the win?
I enjoyed having both a Seventh Inning Stretch and a 14th Inning Stretch, where we got to sing “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” twice in the same game. I have no doubt that if we had made it to the 21st inning, we would have sung again. (At one point on the scoreboard, it was revealed that the Phillies longest game in team history was a 21-inning contest against the Chicago Cubs in 1918.)
Too... many... unnecessary... baseball facts! Shouldn't there be an apostrophe after "Phillies"?
However, the most unusual and challenging aspect for Older Daughter and me ended up being the keeping of the scorecard.
Pathetic.
I’ve kept a scorecard at every game I’ve been to since I was a kid. And now as an adult, she has expressed an interest in that part of going to the ballgame, and I have been teaching her the intricacies of scorecard keeping the past few games we have attended together this season.
Wait - WHO as an adult? Borsch or Older Daughter? Chalk up another "ballgame."
The problem with the Phillies pre-printed scorecards is that they provide space for only 10 innings. There are additional columns for game totals that, if necessary, can be used to get one through 14 innings of scorekeeping.
Oh, horrors! Since only a tiny fraction of games ever go past the 14th inning, this is obviously a HUGE oversight on the part of the Phils!
But neither the Phillies nor the Reds cooperated by scoring any runs from the 11th through the 18th innings. So we were forced to get creative with the scorecard and write in the margins and then eventually, turn the scorecard vertically and utilize any vacant spaces that could be found.
This is just too exciting for words. Scorekeeping! Margin writing!
And we each got the whole game scored on our separate scorecards. Had it gone past 19 innings, I’m not sure what we would have done because we truly were out of space at that point. Older Daughter suggested afterward that she would have written on a napkin and stapled it to the scorecard if the game had continued. “You don’t come that far to have an incomplete scorecard,” she said.
This - THIS - is a memory worth treasuring? "Hey, remember that time we almost ran out of room on that piece of paper?" Who could possibly think this is material interesting enough for publication?
The game ended around 1:15 a.m., and the Phillies rewarded us by winning the game. Both of us did the “Yea, We Won Dance” after the winning run scored. At that time of the morning, I was not embarrassed to have anyone see me dance.
Ah, and a reference to a fictional dance just to cap things off.
I dropped Older Daughter off at her house and made it home by 2:30 a.m. We both had to go to work the next morning, and the late night made for a long day the next day.
"...the next day" is completely unnecessary. He obviously dashes these off the night before they're due and never re-reads them.
About midday, I sent her a text message: “I know it was a long night, which is making for a tough day today, but I’m happy you were with me last night.”
His texts are as poorly-written as his columns.
She responded: “Ya, I had a really good time. Thanks for a good memory.”
And that’s what it indeed became, a great memory.
Why, you can still remember it days later! And in all fairness, she said "good memory," not "great memory."
It was a unique baseball game for sure, but it turned into a unique father-daughter experience that just the two of us share, a story that maybe someday she’ll tell her children.
This is absurd! What a claim! And for being such a unique and memorable experience, we heard precious little about what he and his daughter did together (we know they attended the game and kept scorecards).
It was a special evening, but not because the Phillies and Reds played 19 innings. It was special because I got to share it with a special person in my life. And that’s why we never leave a ballgame early. Because sometimes, if one is lucky, it ends up being about something other than just baseball.
Bull. This column was 922 words long. On a purely by-paragraph basis, if you remove the sections unrelated to his activites with Older Daughter, you're left with 490 words. So really, this once-in-a-lifetime memory merited 53% of his column; the remaining 47% involved hot dogs, baseball trivia, etc.
OUTTA LEFTFIELD: It took 19 innings to score a treasured father-daughter memory
Published: Wednesday, June 01, 2011
By Mike Morsch
Executive Editor
"Score." Because you score runs in baseball.
There’s always been a rule in our family: Never leave a ballgame early. It’s not only because something fun or unusual might happen, but because we go to the ballpark to enjoy the game, its sounds, smells and ambiance, not because we want to leave early and beat the traffic home.
First paragraph and we already have a "ballgame" and a "ballpark." I wonder if he brought his ballglove to catch a foul baseballball!
Well, the Phillies certainly tested that rule last week with their 19-inning tilt against the Cincinnati Reds.
And yep, I was there. For … the … whole … thing. All six hours and 14 minutes’ worth.
He makes it sound like this is a big chore, after a whole paragraph spent extolling the virtues of staying the whole game.
Joining me for the bonus baseball was Older Daughter, who has grown up with the family’s rules and is well aware of them.
That's a little redundant, isn't it? She grew up with them. AND is well aware of them! Also, she knows them!
I had reminded her in passing as the game entered the 10th inning that we never leave a game early. At that point, neither of us suspected we’d be there for another nine innings.
“I know the family rule,” she said matter-of-factly.
Isn't THIS a little redundant? The story so far: he established that the Morsch family stays for extra innings, and Older Daughter knows that. Then Morsch reminds Older Daughter that they stay for extra innings, and she confirms that she knows that.
As if to further demonstrate her understanding of the family rules, she turned to me after the 18th inning and said: “It would be kind of a half-assed effort on our part if we were to leave after the 18th inning, wouldn’t it?”
Woah woah woah, not even a warning that this column contains PG-13 material? He warns viewers to look away when he discusses poop, but tosses a casual "ass" out there?
Atta girl. When one’s daughter describes a six-hour, 18-inning effort at 1 a.m. as “half-assed” if we don’t see it through to the end, then that demonstrates a pretty good grasp of the We Never Leave a Ballgame Early Rule.
Nice elaborate made-up title. Also, this is the third time we've established that Older Daughter knows this rule.
Given my affinity for hotdogs mentioned in this space over the years, you might think a 19-inning ballgame would provide more than an ample opportunity to see if I could eat every hotdog in the ballpark.
Ballgame! Ballpark! Hot dogs! Is Borsch trying to do an Adam West Batman-style self-parody?
Oddly enough, I didn’t have a single dog that evening, which in hindsight is admittedly an error in judgment. I’m going to have to make a new family rule to address that: Never Go to a Ballgame Without Eating at Least a Half Dozen Hotdogs.
He might also create a The More Words I Use the Funnier I Become rule. How many little asides does he need to make a sentence amusing? "Oddly enough," "in hindsight," "admittedly"... These are the things that probably look hilarious to him while he's piling them on, but try actually reading them.
Among the unique aspects of the game was that the Phils’ winning pitcher ended up being position player Wilson Valdez, who became the first player to start a game in the field and end up getting the win on the hill since Babe Ruth did it a bazillion years ago. Raise your hand if you thought the names Babe Ruth and Wilson Valdez would ever be mentioned in the same sentence for any reason.
Was this one of the great memories he shared with Older Daughter? She seems to have vanished... Borsch is punishing us with all these extra details. Given all the clauses he jams into that first sentence is "getting the win on the hill" really necessary? Where else would you get the win?
I enjoyed having both a Seventh Inning Stretch and a 14th Inning Stretch, where we got to sing “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” twice in the same game. I have no doubt that if we had made it to the 21st inning, we would have sung again. (At one point on the scoreboard, it was revealed that the Phillies longest game in team history was a 21-inning contest against the Chicago Cubs in 1918.)
Too... many... unnecessary... baseball facts! Shouldn't there be an apostrophe after "Phillies"?
However, the most unusual and challenging aspect for Older Daughter and me ended up being the keeping of the scorecard.
Pathetic.
I’ve kept a scorecard at every game I’ve been to since I was a kid. And now as an adult, she has expressed an interest in that part of going to the ballgame, and I have been teaching her the intricacies of scorecard keeping the past few games we have attended together this season.
Wait - WHO as an adult? Borsch or Older Daughter? Chalk up another "ballgame."
The problem with the Phillies pre-printed scorecards is that they provide space for only 10 innings. There are additional columns for game totals that, if necessary, can be used to get one through 14 innings of scorekeeping.
Oh, horrors! Since only a tiny fraction of games ever go past the 14th inning, this is obviously a HUGE oversight on the part of the Phils!
But neither the Phillies nor the Reds cooperated by scoring any runs from the 11th through the 18th innings. So we were forced to get creative with the scorecard and write in the margins and then eventually, turn the scorecard vertically and utilize any vacant spaces that could be found.
This is just too exciting for words. Scorekeeping! Margin writing!
And we each got the whole game scored on our separate scorecards. Had it gone past 19 innings, I’m not sure what we would have done because we truly were out of space at that point. Older Daughter suggested afterward that she would have written on a napkin and stapled it to the scorecard if the game had continued. “You don’t come that far to have an incomplete scorecard,” she said.
This - THIS - is a memory worth treasuring? "Hey, remember that time we almost ran out of room on that piece of paper?" Who could possibly think this is material interesting enough for publication?
The game ended around 1:15 a.m., and the Phillies rewarded us by winning the game. Both of us did the “Yea, We Won Dance” after the winning run scored. At that time of the morning, I was not embarrassed to have anyone see me dance.
Ah, and a reference to a fictional dance just to cap things off.
I dropped Older Daughter off at her house and made it home by 2:30 a.m. We both had to go to work the next morning, and the late night made for a long day the next day.
"...the next day" is completely unnecessary. He obviously dashes these off the night before they're due and never re-reads them.
About midday, I sent her a text message: “I know it was a long night, which is making for a tough day today, but I’m happy you were with me last night.”
His texts are as poorly-written as his columns.
She responded: “Ya, I had a really good time. Thanks for a good memory.”
And that’s what it indeed became, a great memory.
Why, you can still remember it days later! And in all fairness, she said "good memory," not "great memory."
It was a unique baseball game for sure, but it turned into a unique father-daughter experience that just the two of us share, a story that maybe someday she’ll tell her children.
This is absurd! What a claim! And for being such a unique and memorable experience, we heard precious little about what he and his daughter did together (we know they attended the game and kept scorecards).
It was a special evening, but not because the Phillies and Reds played 19 innings. It was special because I got to share it with a special person in my life. And that’s why we never leave a ballgame early. Because sometimes, if one is lucky, it ends up being about something other than just baseball.
Bull. This column was 922 words long. On a purely by-paragraph basis, if you remove the sections unrelated to his activites with Older Daughter, you're left with 490 words. So really, this once-in-a-lifetime memory merited 53% of his column; the remaining 47% involved hot dogs, baseball trivia, etc.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
