RNWN

WebMD mobile is the greatest diagnostic tool since the thermometer.

Case Study:  the ross' foot hurts.  Presenting symptoms: pain in the ball of the foot, brought on by placing weight on the foot.  Possible diagnoses according to WebMD iPhone app:

Broken (fractured) foot -- possibly from kicking ass.
Sciatica -- possibly from being old.
Peripheral neuropathy -- the IBS of the peripheral nervous system.
Metatarsalgia -- Athletes who participate in high-impact sports involving the lower extremities commonly present with forefoot injuries, including metatarsalgia.  No kidding.  It's probably not this.
Corns and Calluses -- Nope.
Osteomyelitis (bone infection) -- I don't think so, but hey, I'm not a doctor.  I just play one off-Broadway.
Poorly Fitting Shoes -- Insert caption here.
Lumber Spinal Stenosis -- Toe pain as a result of a bad back.  Fantastic.
Multiple Sclerosis -- I think this is worst case scenario.
Shingles -- I sure hope not.

Indian Summer

Titles don't get any easier than that.  The rest of this story is much harder to tell.  But you'll have to wait a bit, so I can get this right.

Who Do We Hate?

Not Boise State!

Huh?  Did I just say that?  Yes, I did.  And I surprise even myself, I'll not tell a lie.  Because most any day of the year, I have...call it an extreme dislike for Boise State University as an Idaho alum.  It's not unhealthy.  I don't spend my nights dreaming of stabbing BSU fans in the knee with a box cutter or anything.  But when you go to a school that has a natural rival, you have a tendency to adopt that mutual dislike.  (And don't tell me BSU fans don't feel the same about Idaho.  That's just dishonest.)  And it really doesn't extend any farther than football and basketball.  I seriously do not care who has the better engineering program, the better music school, the better toddler education program, etc.  I am passionate about Idaho beating BSU 3 times a year, and (previously) in the basketball conference tournament.  That's it.  But today is different, because try as I might, I cannot muster anything but pity for BSU today.  Because Bob Kustra, 67-year-old former Lt. Governor of Illinois and current president of Boise State University, opened his big yapper and stuck his geriatric foot in it.

When I first read his comments, I couldn't help but be upset, because BK didn't really make a distinction between the culture of Moscow and the culture of the University of Idaho football fans.  At least the way it came out, it was pretty insulting to me as someone who lives in Moscow and calls it home.  I'd be willing to bet that he's never been sitting in a restaurant in Moscow and been accosted by a "nasty, inebriated" Idaho fan.  You know why?  Because I've been a Vandal fan since I started school in 1998, and I've never heard his name until today, and I sure as shootin' couldn't pick his face out of a lineup.  If Michael Jordan was a huge BSU fan and came to Moscow, someone would probably throw some snide comments his way.  But we don't know who you are, Bob!  When have you encountered this incivility?  

Three years ago when BSU beat the tar out of Idaho here at the Kibbie Dome, I was bartending that weekend and sold almost $5,000 worth of booze in two days, by far the most I'd ever poured.  The bar was packed with damaged Idaho fans and exuberant BSU fans, coexisting, drinking, having fun.  To the best of my knowledge, zero fights occurred, even without a sober customer within a Moscow city block.  Drunk, maybe, but uncivil?  What's he talking about?

But then I started thinking about it, and realized I don't need to get worked up about it.  If BK had stood up and said, "I really enjoy Moscow and the people there, and we have a great time at games there, and I respect the students and faculty, wah wah, wah wah," I would still hate Boise State for those several days a year.  That wouldn't change, 'cause I'm an Idaho fan.  It's the same way I feel about the Philadelphia Eagles, 'cause I'm a Cowboys fan.  So if I have no real reason to be angry about his comments, what's left?  Just the pity, and here's why.

I understand that Senor Bob probably never dreamed his retirement job would be trying to sell people on a university that is judged by its football success, but I don't think anyone is deluded into believing that their money doesn't stem directly from the Statue of Liberty Play.  And I think there's worse hands to be dealt; it would be very difficult for anyone to say BSU is a serious national playa without the football team, but it's impossible for Idaho to say, because we don't have that.  Fine, we all accept that you're in the middle of an awesome run, so don't try to tell me that BSU is an academic juggernaut.  We make fun of your academics because we can.  Don't take it personally, it's just all that we have right now.  So what BK should have done is this:  NOTHING.  If he wants BSU to be recognized academically, he needs to accept that BSU is a football school, take the money, and build from there.  Idaho certainly would.

Let Chris Peterson talk the smack.  That's what the coach of a winning team gets to do.  Does it benefit BSU to keep playing Idaho?  Of course it does.  Every powerhouse football team in the country plays filler games. It's why Idaho is playing Nebraska next year.  The money is good for us, the win is good for them.  But try this on for size -- if, instead of Idaho, Nebraska could schedule a local rivalry that was a certain victory, why wouldn't they?  A win's a win's a win, and right now, sadly, Idaho is a sure thing.  But Coach Pee is saying exactly what he's supposed to...and President Kustra should have stayed out of it.  All he succeeded in doing was pissing off half of the state and revealing exactly what he is:  not from Idaho.  

What's the real problem here?  Kustra is a Midwesterner, and no kidding, if you say U of I, he is thinking University of Illinois.  He doesn't understand that a lot of us care about Idaho/BSU, and we should.  Most Idaho fans have never shouted an obscenity at BSU.  One of my best friends works for BSU athletics, and got his undergrad and masters at Idaho.  I went to summer events at BSU when I was in high school.  But at least for a couple days a year, I find a passion in me that I think is admirable at the least.  If we win, I go home happy.  If we get trounced, I go home in a blue funk (Bronco farts are blue).  I live in Moscow, I'm a Vandal, and I don't care for Boise State.

But I'm not nasty, inebriated, or uncivil.  Sorry if that disappoints you, Bob.

The Secret

If you're looking for a review of the book The Secret, you have come to the wrong place.  I haven't read it, and I don't plan to, because I don't think you can shove something truly revolutionary into less than 200 pages.  Rather, this is THE secret to finding your soulmate.  Some of you may be saying, there is no such thing as a soulmate.  If so, you are a cynic, and need a dose of rossnation...to fix that.  Some of you may say that there is no single way to find your soulmate.  This is also incorrect, because the ross says so.  I have figured it out, and I did so simply by observing love on TV.  Not from a silly sitcom, or a drama that tells you never to date at work, but from a commercial.  Yes, the good people at AT&T have had the answer for who knows how long, and have been holding out.  So how do you find your true love?

Go to the train station.  If you are male, stand on the platform and wait until you make eye contact with a woman who is already on the train.  Then, buy a ticket for that train on your smartphone, and try not to miss the train.

If you are a woman, you have to work a little harder, because your job is to sit on the train and wait, but you might have to try multiple trains.  This can get expensive, but it's the only way.  When you spot your soulmate, you'll have a whole train ride to get to know each other, which is more than enough time.
So really there are only a couple things that make this less than fool proof.  I understand that not everyone has a train station, so you'll have to move.  And it has to be an underground train station, sorry.  And you need a smartphone (I'm assuming with AT&T service.  It may work on Verizon, but you wouldn't want to take any chances.)  You need to be savvy enough to buy train tickets on this phone.  Truth be told, I don't even know if I'm this savvy.  But I know that if you are able to get it done, you'll certainly be able to order a PWI* after you get on the train.
So go ahead, give it a try next time you're waiting for a train.  But when it works for you, don't forget rossnation...told you so.  But consider yourself warned -- as far as I know, this happens every time, so unless you're looking for love, the train is out.

As is rossnation...

They Call Me the Matchmaker

Some of thee may have thought in the past about trying an online dating site.  Allow me to disuade you with this one fact:  I've got a better way.  It is simple, cheap, and matches you with your soulmate in one easy step, without filling out endless forms, "communication", or blind dates.  Want to know the secret?  Check out my upcoming book, One Step to Compatibility with the Love Technician.  It will be available tomorrow at the rossnation... site.  Leave your preconceptions at home, they'll do you no good here...

As always, no charge for awesomeness...or attractiveness.

rossnation...out.

rossnation...is faster than the speed of sound

rossnation... breaks rocks with sass.
rossnation... is garlic flavored.
rossnation... can bake without an oven.
rossnation... needs no introduction, but probably needs an introduction.
rossnation... patented hyperbole.
rossnation... leaps tall buildings in as many bounds as he wants, but usually not one.
rossnation... runs the atomic clock.
rossnation... grows grey hair on purpose.
rossnation... spells things the British way.
rossnation... invented the Vespa.
rossnation... can spot a narc from a block away.
rossnation... used to run the dock workers union.
rossnation... runs unopposed.
rossnation... is in high-definition.
rossnation... does not have a dragon tattoo.
rossnation... can act his way out of a paper bag, but chooses not to.
rossnation... is OSHA-approved, but not ergonomic.
rossnation... thinks spell-check is for the burds.
rossnation... can charge your phone wirelessly.
rossnation... has never been accused of gerrymandering.
rossnation... can break you, fool.
rossnation... reinvented the wheel.
rossnation... will program your VCR, but will call you on still owning one.
rossnation... is the Beeper King.
rossnation... types in cyrillic.
rossnation... is a spicy meatball.
rossnation... will make the comb-over look good.
rossnation... is finally in my computer's dictionary...

Finish Him!!!!

A couple things are hanging out in this head of mine tonight.  They are in no way complimentary topics; the only place they happen to cross over is in my brain.  Scary proposition.  One of them is the fact that I watched The Book of Eli last night.  I hadn't seen it before, and was actually quite surprised by it.  It was the first movie in a while that I haven't expected anything from (or expected to dislike), and instead really liked it.  First of all, Denzel is a bad, bad man.  I did not see that coming.  Although part of me thinks that it's mostly the sunglasses doing the heavy lifting.  Exhibit A is how amazing I look with the same sunglasses (I took this earlier).

See what I mean?  But Denzel isn't what I'm thinking about.  It's more the ending of the movie that got my butter churning.  No spoiler here, it's just what Eli says: "Thank you Lord for giving me the strength.  I finished the race."  If you know any of the Gibson men, you know we're big on the concept of running to the tape, finishing the race.  So here's the problem, and the other half of my "head movies."  The race I'm currently running?  I have zero interest in finishing it.  (Let me be clear that there is no actual running going on here.)  This race is my little Facebook project that I've previously outlined.  Seemed like a good idea at the time, but after 4 days of doing everything that my homepage suggested, I'm about to lose my marbles (or head waffles, as we call them in rossnation...)  Here's a quick recap of the junk I've had to like.  We'll call this our ReCrap:

• How I Met Your Mother             I do not care.
• Britney Spears                             Kill me now.
• Selena Gomez                             Am not familiar.
• Jackie Chan                                Well, he can kick things.
• Pawn Stars                                  Poop.
• Knitting                                       Super lame.
• Glee                                            Super wicked lame. 
• Tyler Perry                                  Not funny.
• System of a Down                       Not music.
• Two and a Half Men                   Feel bad for people who watch this.
• Twilight                                       Not a chance.
• Titanic                                         Longest 6 hours of my life.
• Sponge Bob                                I don't get high.
• Avril Lavigne                               Canada is super clean, which is why Avril lives in the US now.
• Ashley Tisdale                             Nope.
• Vanessa Hudgins                         Not talented.
• Converse                                     Eh, they can be comfy, but I can't pull it off.
• Grey's Anatomy                           Never.
• Farmville Sheep                           Not Farmville, just the sheep.
• Vice Ganda                                 ?????????? 
• And everyone's fave, Justin Bieber           I do not have Bieber Fever.  I am perfectly healthy.

Perhaps you can see where I'm coming from.  I have no desire to add more crap like this for the next 27 days.  It's exhausting, and takes away the actual fun of communicating with friends, and turns the one hour into a chore.  And I don't "like" chores for a reason.  I'm a bit surprised that no one has suggested that I "like" chores yet, those of you looking to sabotage this endeavor.  I would be perfectly happy to let this go away, and go back to life as it used to be (boring & sad), but if Denzel can finish the race, I pretty much have to.  Especially now that I'm wearing the sunglasses.  This is now a labor of love.  Or a labor of loathe.  Hence the Mortal Kombat reference in the title.  FINISHHH!!!!!!

And as always, there is no charge for awesomeness...or attractiveness.

rossnation...out.

RNWN

It has been said, "The fact that no one understands you doesn't mean you're an artist."  Clearly, they don't get it.

Two Days Down

As it turns out, my Facebook project is more ambitious than I thought.  This is disturbing only because I don't like to be surprised; I would like to be exactly as ambitious as I set out to be.  But Facebook has some tricks up its digital sleeves, and these illusions (AD reference) are what turned my one hour on FB into an extra two hours cleaning up the mess that I made.  I may be amending my own rules to keep me from having to unsubscribe from a bunch of crap.  Sadly, Facebook told me to win an iPad last night.  Ahhh, if it were that simple.  By about 2 AM, I had successfully unsubscribed from 5 or 6 text message services, ranging from daily horoscopes to daily PWI* giveaways.  I only have one thing left to deal with, and that is the law firm that left a message on my voicemail this morning saying that they will call back tomorrow about my free consultation...and I'm pretty sure I'm not getting an iPad.  This is what I signed up for, but I think next time I'll lay out my proposal a little better, and perhaps line up some financial backing, so I don't have to do any real work for the rest of my days.  Because that's what the Founding Fathers would want.

So it's quite possible that this project will turn into a rant about FB and internet privacy and what not.  I will certainly turn into a rant against my friend Soap for forcing me to "like" her cat, and against Justin Bieber for, you know, being alive.  Alas, this will all be worth it, no doubt, because those of you paying attention are crapping yourselves with joy.  So yuck it up, folks, I will have my retribution.  In monetary form.

So in the words of The Great Panda,
"There is no charge for Awesomeness...or Attractiveness."

rossnation...out.

P.S.  If the offer had been "Get a free PWI!", I would've seen that one to the end.

Facebook's Finest?

I'm trying something new tonight, and I have no idea where it's going to lead.  Please, don't be frightened rossnation...; let me take care of that.  Simply trust that I would never lead the nation into anything I can't get it out of, for that is a leader's credo.
Tonight was Day 1 of a social experiment that I am calling, "The Facebook Driven Life."  Rest assured, I do not plan to make this a lifestyle choice, I am just curious what will happen, and I want all of you to be in on the fun, or disaster, depending on how it plays out.  So here are the ground rules that I have laid out for the ross.

1. Every night for the next 31 days, I will spend one continuous hour on Facebook.
2. During this hour, I will record what happens with my web cam, and with screenshots from my Facebook homepage.
3. During this hour, I will do everything, with few exceptions, that my homepage tells me to do.  If it tells me to reconnect with someone by writing on their wall, I'm on it.  If it tells me to like graffiti because many people who like walking like graffiti, it's on.  If it suggests a friend that I have at least one mutual friend with, I'm sending a friend request.  I am assuming many of these will get ignored, because of the 40 requests I sent tonight, I don't remember at least half of them.
4. After the hour is complete, I will return to business as usual, which may or may not involve FB, who knows.
5. I can make up more ground rules as I need, but if you have a suggestion, I am listening.
6. I think the ultimate goal is rossnation... becoming the "six degrees" of Facebook, and then we'll be famous.  But really, I just hope I don't have to go to rehab after this is done.

Let's do this.

rossnation...out.

Road Trip Much?

I'm taking my first real vacation tomorrow.  To clarify, by vacation I mean I'm leaving town and have no particular plans.  I have nine days in a row of paid time off.  I'm getting in my car and driving to Boise.  I'm going to park my suitcase in my brother's guest room and...nothing.  I don't know.  This week is so wide open that the only actual appointment I have is for the Treasure Valley Rollergirls.  I don't know if this is going to be awesome or just retro, but it doesn't matter, because I'm on vacation.  Most of the week I'll probably sit in a coffee shop and abuse the free wifi, maybe buy an iced lattesso every 6 hours or so.  Make friends with the barista lady and tip big so they don't throw me out, that kind of thing.  Because I'm on vacation.  Write two columns a day, because I'm on vacation, and I'll share the love.  Or I might not.  I'll watch ESPN just like at home, 'cause I'm on vacation.  I'll go fishing if I want.  I don't want to, but you get the idea.  Gonna try to record a podcast with the Alger.  Why?  Because you deserve it.  And because I'm on vacation. I'm gonna overstay my welcome everywhere I can; Boise's gonna wish they never heard of me.  And when I get back we'll go out for ice cream, I promise.

Simplify-ification

The more I think about it, the more I'm intrigued by the idea of simplifying. I'm not thinking large scale yet, I just look around and see all the stuff sitting in my apartment and wonder why I have it. Generously, I might need about 50 percent of what I own, and the rest of it is just, well...stuff.
My dad (Handsome & Humble Hoot) is in the midst of the process of simplifying. I was not a fan at first, because out of nowhere I started getting packages chock-full of my old junk. This seemed counter intuitive, because parents are supposed to hold onto our stuff until we're ready for it. But then I started to realize, the only problem with dad's plan was that he should have started mailing me my crap years ago! (Can I get an amen pops?!)
Part of my current thinking has to do with a selfish desire: I'll have to move sometime in the near future, and it would be wicked awesome if I had less crap that had to go with me. If I could fit everything I owned into a small U-Haul trailer, how sexy would that be?! (Especially for the guys I'll guilt into helping.) Less stuff to pack, less stuff to unpack - or leave in boxes for 3 months - sounds pretty good to me. Especially when I consider the fact that most of that stuff is still in boxes! I've lived here for 9 months.
Beyond the craving to lift less, however, are a couple of deeper thoughts. For instance, there's a good chance that I don't need 5 winter coats (maybe that's just the heat talking.) Come to think of it, where did I get 5 coats?! Perhaps there are others who could use a warm coat. And no one has ever accused me of being fashionable, so we're not talking about Banana Republic here. (THOSE COATS ARE GAUCHE!)
Or how about this one: if our living space is less cluttered with things, why wouldn't our minds? How do you like them kumquats?
But here's my piece de resistance: I've been in a lot of homes as a cable tech, and some of the saddest ones are those of elderly people who have all the knick knacks of their lives saved, and their homes overflow with it. In places like this, I can't help but wonder, "Who will take care of all this stuff when this person dies?" I know that's a super morbid thought, but I can't help it, you wanna fideaboudit? My dad says when he dies he wants to own the clothes on his back and a Bible. And for that I say, Thanks Pops. (But it'd better not be for a long time.)
So in the interest of good journalism (or whatever this is), here's a couple of things I'm gonna try, and I dare you to. I triple dog dare you.

• I own over 100 DVDs. And I haven't watched any of them in months. Yard sale much? Get a Netflix account, it's OK.
• Coats for Kids. Or Goodwill. Salvation Army, whatever, I have clothes I never wear, and someone else might. If they have no style, that is.
• Books. This is easy, and my favorite. A lot of used book stores will take your books and put the money you'd get into a fund for needy seniors. Leave a box of books and forget it. It's a great feeling in a bunch of ways.
• Shoes...ahh, forget it.
• CD's, papers, PWI's, etc. Digitize everything and save to an external hard drive. I bought a 1 terabyte model for $75. That's way more than most of us need. But keep in mind that PWI's take up a lot of space, depending on the number of little syrup squares.

So there it is, that's how we do in rossnation... Well, we're gonna try. Admit it, you didn't think I'd fit in the waffle reference. So little faith...

rossnation... out

Book 'em, Danno.

Customer request: Top Ten Summer Reads or, ten books to read at the beach. I thought about this overnight, and came up with a couple of thoughts on the subject. My first thought was, of course, I believe in good customer service. And as we all know, the customer is always right (unless you’ve ever worked in retail.) So I really have no choice but to give you my top ten. My second thought was, “I don’t know if I’ve read enough books.” I have chosen to ignore this, and simply provide ten books that I have either read, or that I might read. Don’t let this concern you, because I’m not the kind of person who will continue reading a book if it sucks. So if you actually take me seriously and pick one of these up, please feel free to put it down if it reads like the Spanish half of a portable waffle iron manual* (you all know I would learn Spanish for that.) My last thought was, “Should I really alienate 90% of my considerable readership by writing something that isn’t interesting?” My only option? Make it interesting. So here’s my best shot at, in no particular order:

rossnation… Must Reads for Summer ‘10

• Medium Raw by Anthony Bourdain: This guy is really a TV personality, and he’s not for everyone. But if you like travel and learning goofy things about other cultures, he brings a unique perspective. That being said, he can be pretty foul, so beware. Haven’t read it yet, but I will as soon as I find a way to get it without paying.
• The Overton Window by Glenn Beck: Want to read it just because this guy seems like a bag of hot whipped cream, but from what I’ve heard he can write like he’s a member of rossnation… And everyone needs a good political thriller in the summertime. Rumor has it the hardcover addition will also apply your sunscreen (as well it should for $26.)
• Innocent by Scott Turow: Turow is the master of the law book*. The sequel to Presumed Innocent. Even The New York Times liked it. Case closed*.
• Beach Music by Pat Conroy: This is the first on the list that I’ve read. And I’ve read it about 5 times. I wish I could write like Conroy, and you’ll wish I could too once you’ve read him. This is a beautiful example of descriptive writing, and a sad story that you can’t turn away from. Plus, it has beach in the title. So…take it to the beach with you.
• The Facebook Effect by David Kirkpatrick: This looks like a pretty interesting look into the world since FB, and let’s face it*, no one would know this column existed if it weren’t for the Evil Empire. Non-fiction alert.
• Harry Potter & the Deathly Hallows by J.K. Rowling: I know it’s not new, but if you’re a fan, this is a good re-read for the movie that’s coming this fall. Plus, isn’t it nice to pretend you’re a wizard sometimes? Nobody? Nevermind…
• The Sea Runners by Ivan Doig: One of my favorite books, and my dad likes it too, so if you don’t believe me, ask him. And as we all know, everybody loves Dave! Blammy!
•  No Country for Old Men by Cormac McCarthy: Or anything by him. McCarthy makes reading interesting again, but you have to pay attention. I wouldn’t bother if you’ve got a short attention
•  Poop My Dad Says by Justin Halpern: I’m only gonna read this because I’ve seen some of the “poop” that his dad says, and it seems genuinely funny. I only wish the book was actually called this, because poop is a hilarious word.
•  30 is the New Boring by rossnation…: I’m such a huge fan of self promotion. This is the ESPN theory; they’re watching it already, we might as well advertise ourselves. But seriously, this is a must read for the summertime. It’s also the reason that the mobile web was invented, so that you could take rossnation… to the beach with you. And please do, because I doubt I’m gonna see the ocean this year. Send the ross a picture? I promise, I’ll try to make it worth your while to stop by every couple of days.

This one’s for rossnation… follower Matt Curtis. rossnation… out.

[1] For the foreseeable future, I will try to add one reference to the mythical PWI in each column. You’ll want to keep reading just to see if you can spot it. It’s like Where’s Waldo with mediocre Righting (callback).

[2] This is the technical term for the genre.

[3] Law pun.

[4] This one’s a freebie.

Chuck on This...

Every man needs to be challenged. When I’m left to my own devices, my automatic response is... no response! I don’t think I have the gene that forces me be proactive, to push when there is nothing to push. So I specifically need to be challenged. By something, anything! And for that reason, I type tonight. I have been challenged. My talent, wit, verily even my integrity as a writer has been called into question. I shall respond herein:

There is a tongue twister that has caused some dissension in the ranks of rossnation… “How much wood would a woodchuck chuck, if a woodchuck could chuck wood?”

An inane question with no answer, and therefore no value. Yet we ponder this conundrum with every cell in our brain, begging the synapses to fire in a random sequence to give us an answer. An answer that, even if it does exist, does us no good. We won’t be able to develop a new assembly line theory for our furry woodchuck friends (often called the whistle pig.) Our friend the whistle does not even chuck wood, and to his detriment. He eats foods like a squirrel (nuts, seeds, leaves, cable that I then have to fix, etc.) So from the git go, we can establish that this is all a hypothetical exercise.

So in our hypothetical, the woodchuck (or WC) would chuck up to 3 cords of wood per day. This has not been tested; it is simply my educated estimate, based on being the son and grandson of former National Park Service employees. (This is the same argument that gets me into Heaven because my dad is a pastor.) But three cords seems about right, don’t you think? WC’s are hungry little buggers, leading a very active lifestyle. They like to run around and stuff. When (if) I “run around and stuff,” I also get hungry. I’m not a vegetarian, though. I prefer to eat three cords of waffles. (C’mon, you all saw that coming.)

The seeds of dissension being planted in rossnation… do not revolve around the amount of actual chucking being done. Rather, there are those associated with the nation that did not believe the ross could discourse on the subject in an interesting manner. Clearly, this argument has been rebutted if you have read this far. Are pictures of a talking woodchuck cheap? Maybe, but it was harder than I thought to come up with jokes about woodchucks. They’re cute, but they sure aren’t interesting. So instead, riddle me this:

How many waffles would a rosschuck chuck? Now that’s quality writing.

rossnation… out.

rossnation... revealed

Sooooo….you want to know about rossnation…? Sam Eddy does. Therefore, I have to assume that there are a lot of you out in the interweb that have similar questions. And it’s OK, I promise. There’s no shame in being confused, in wanting to know more about this enigma that is rossnation… After all, you can’t Google rossnation… Well, you can, but you won’t get any real answers. But you get some funny results. Seriously, try it right now. I’m result #3, there’s Rick Ross/Nation of Hip Hop, and the supporters of this guy:

This joke tells itself. But if you have an appropriate caption, feel free to submit it.

But on to the questions. Let me start by saying that in NO way am I as narcissistic as this – or any of my previous entries – would lead you to believe. I am simply a ridiculously charming and disarming man who knows the extent of his awesomeness and isn’t afraid to share that knowledge with the world. (Seriously, though, this is all for fun.)

That being said, let me explain rossnation… To start, it’s spelled all lower case, one word, three periods (ellipsis) to denote aposiopesis. This is not to be confused with apotheosis, which I certainly have no claim to. Why is it spelled in this very specific manner? Because it’s my fake club. I can do whatever I want when I’m typing. It has no basis in real grammar, no mythical beginnings, no crazy back story; I just decided that’s the way it needed to be. And I like the ellipsis; it’s a largely underrated punctuation.

While I’m in confession mode, here’s another shocker: rossnation… isn’t a real nation. You won’t find it in the Britannica, but I’m pretty sure the KGB has a sizeable file on us. Think of rossnation… as a co-op. Not one of those hippy co-ops, because I can’t condone spending eight dollars on a pear, organic or not. (Fun family outing: take the kids down to your local co-op and let them count the Subaru’s. Guaranteed 50% of the cars. Because hippies will swear that Sube’s are four-wheel drive.) But rossnation… is more like a co-op of minds. Granted, I as “ross” will be the chairman of the co-op board, but I’ll certainly take suggestions. But, simply put, my vote counts as two. Being a co-op of the minds, rossnation… is a country with borders as wide as your dreams. A little bit like The Matrix, sans the overuse of leather. You do not need a passport, Sam, but your visa must be approved by the ross. Uhh, that’s me, by the way.

Visa approval is based, first and foremost, on Visa approval. (I’m still working on taking AmEx and Discover.) Cash is still a viable option of course, but not preferred simply because I can’t hold cash in my iPhone. That will be a neat trick when they figure that out. Accommodations can be made for the indigent, generally in the form of a properly formatted essay outlining the individual’s qualifications to be a member of rossnation… Please don’t misunderstand, I will most likely not read them. Properly formatted would mean based on the rossnation… Read and Write Right method. Please refer to previous entries for information on the rRWR method. (See how I did that? Forced you to read my older stuff, thus driving up my readership. Brilliant.) Readership is as good as money, just like an IOU.

After the ross has reviewed your application, if you are accepted into the Royal Order of rossnation…, you will receive a notification of some kind, at which point you would be entitled to all the rights and privileges accorded to a full member of rossnation… These include, but are not limited to, the honor of submitting ideas for the ross to write about; submitting writing of your own; listening to any audio or video content that the ross and the jake may produce (this should be good); discounts on any future rossnation… apparel, bumper stickers, key chains, Christmas ornaments, action figures (w00t*), etc.

There are no taxes in rossnation… per se, only a reasonable percentage of the member’s monthly income to be paid to the treasurer of rossnation… Because we have no treasurer as yet, the ross will serve as the acting treasurer. But there are numerous opportunities for advancement within rossnation…; you could become an earl, or a duke, or even a Senator, depending on your personal percentage, and your contributions to the ross’ manifesto.

rossnation… is going places. We’re not sure where yet, but I assure you it does not involve trips to Tijuana. It will definitely be dipping into the important, and thoroughly unimportant, cultural topics of the day, as well as issues that actually may matter to our readers and members.

The ross will be taking most of the topics revolving around being single at 30 and all that it entails. Jake will be discussing fatherhood in the new millennium, and sports. But not soccer or hockey. Those will be my bailiwick. BC, or Soap, will discuss being a Fringle Mom with a real job, and the trips to Tijuana. As a group, rossnation… will delve into the best and worst in entertainment, and my strange and undying respect for Canada and how clean it is. And so much more.

Long term, rossnation… will morph into a real website with a real name, where you can find all of this sweet sauce. One stop shopping, if you’re shopping for new media magic.

But as I’ve said, I am an open minded ross, and will hear all with ideas. Unless they’re ridiculous. Ride along with the revolution, and let’s see where we end up.

rossnation…out

Improving on Faulkner: Stream of Unconsciousness: The Wit and Wisdom of rossnation... As Dictated By Me With No Discernible Purpose and In No Particu

· If you got past that title, you've already come too far...

· If you don't know what to write, just start typing. Perhaps spell check will do it for you...

· What would I do for a Klondike bar? Pay a reasonable amount of money...

· I'd take out the trash, but I'm not gonna...

· The one appointment you should always make time for is the chiropractor. Having a full wallet will put your back out...

· This life is about emotionality...

· I'm coming back around on Tom Cruise after Tropic Thunder. At least we know he can act. Let the crazy be his own thing...

· I want a snack, and turns out it's gonna be butterscotch chips. I wish they were in cookie form, but alas, I have no eggs...

· Or a baking sheet, to further complicate the baking of cookies...

· Thou shalt not call or text rossnation... after 10 p.m., lest ye get information from me during Ambien time. This can be dangerous for all involved...

· rossnation... is looking for a job in Boise. If you've read this far, you may be very able to help, or completely unable. Talk to rossnation... in words that he can understand.

· Not binary. I am not fluent in binary. My nerddom has a boundary, and the line is the entrance to the gaming store where the 40 year old men play Magic: The Gathering at 2:30 on a Wednesday afternoon. YOU SHALL NOT PASS!!!!

· rossnation... wants your input on topics that need to be covered in this endeavor we're calling journalism. If you've got a question, or a friend has a question, that is in rossnations... wheelhouse, email me and we'll try to help. Relationships, finances, party planning, tech questions? We'll give you the answers, rossnation... style.

· Beautiful men like Joel Stobie apparently only give birth to beautiful daughters. His life is going to be difficult in 15 years. He'll probably go nutty like Sean Schmidt. But Sean might've been nutty before.

· You more shredded than a julienned salad.

· When the Cable Guy goes into a college apartment, there is oft a tense moment (for the tenant, not for me) when the inhabitant must quickly and discreetly remove his/her bong from the coffee table, or the cardboard box that passes for a table, and relocate his "water tobacco pipe" to a less conspicuous location. They usually neglect to move the actual weed, and the smell is...noticeable, shall we say. But for some reason these people are under the impression that I moonlight as an undercover NARC. Ridiculous.

· Or is it?

· Stream of consciousness is harder to write when you're not thinking that hard. This is more like a crick.

· I would like some cookie dough. Wouldn't you...

· Don't read the column; let the column read you...

· This head movie makes my eyes rain...

· rossnation... will retire for the night.

Look forward to hearing from the people, so we don't have to do this nonsense just so I can improve my typing.

rossnation... out.

Welcome to the GART

There's already plenty of words out there about the Great American Road Trip (GART). It's already been done; Steinbeck, Kerouac, Lewis and Clark...etc. And those guys did a pretty good job, I guess. Their musings and discoveries changed forever the way we view the world we inhabit, and simultaneously created a niche society dedicated to drum circles and hacky sack and the smoking of illegal substances like antimatter. This is all well and good, but there's a much more sociological important road trip that must be undertaken before a boy truly becomes a man. This is all very tribal. Here in 'Merica we have a different pilgrimage that must be undertaken in order to prove ones manhood (or womanhood. But definitely not Robin Hood.)

Not everyone is familiar with this rite of passage (which I suppose is why there are so few real men out there), but it's just as important a part of Americana as spring break, Maker's Mark, and despising Boise State. It's the road trip to Costco, and a defining experience of a life lived under capitalism.

I understand some folks may live within walking distance of Costco. But I would contend that even if you live around the corner, a trip to Costco is still a road trip. You might elect to ignore your car for a quick trip to the grocery store if you lived two blocks away, but you gotta have a car if you're going to Costco, so it's automatically an event. And a uniquely American event, for numerous reasons, but here are a few of my favorites.

Let's start with trying to explain this concrete monstrosity to a foreigner. I think that exchange might go something like this:

(This will be best with an Indian accent.)

Foreigner: "Vot is dis place?"

Me: "We buy stuff in bulk here."

F: "Vy vould you do dat?"

Me: "I have a ton of space that I need to fill."

See what I mean? Try thinking of why we shop at Costco. All told, is it really that much cheaper to buy your cereal in a 55 gallon drum? Personally, I think it's more about the novelty of savings. For example, I like the idea of buying razor blades in bulk. The theory is that I'll save, I don't know, a dollar on each blade. This is tempting too because razor blades are more expensive than mp3 players these days, and so I can save 20 dollars if I buy a year's supply up front. Unfortunately, there's absolutely NO chance that I'll be able to keep track of them, never use all of them. I'll use perhaps 5 and lose the rest next time I move, and now I've just paid $22 per blade. This is expensive. The same principles apply to the cereal. It's stale by the next day.

My closest Costco is in Clarkston, Washington, which is a healthy 30 minute drive away, making my trip a "for-real" undertaking. I've got to really want it. And this is true for a 50 mile radius around the store, which makes it all the more awesome when the parking lot is standing room only at 8:30 on a Tuesday morning. If it were open 24 hours, there would be folks buying tires at 3 a.m. White trash or wealthy, we all love Costco.

(I love that you can buy tires! And right next to the tires is the beer. Or Mike's Hard Cranberry if you prefer. I do not.)

So we walk through the garage door entrance, underneath the perpetually luke-warm hair dryer/air conditioner/heater thing, into a bonanza of Crap-by-the-Crate. Jeans are sold in a four-pack. You can buy a treadmill, but only if you want two. Brita filters by the dozen. Cake mix by the pallet. Whole sides of beef. Books? Yep. Those you can buy in singles. Oh, and sushi. Insert confusion here.

But come with your 401k PIN, cause you can't get out of that place for under 500 bones. And that's because everything costs 16 bucks. Maybe that's just me, but seriously it seems like everything is $16 and up. Except for the chicken bake at the "cafe." It's the only restaurant in the world that can get away with selling only polish sausages and hot pockets.

So what is it that really makes Costco so magical? You already know the answer.

It's the samples. This is why Costco is the end of every truly great road trip. Free food on a toothpick, and then you walk away. No kidding, I've driven all the way there and walked out with nothing but a half-full stomach. And trash bags. And toilet paper. And balsamic vinegar. And Bisquick. A humidor. Pajamas. 30 foot American flag. Recliner. Tree house...

So what can’t you buy at Costco? Portable waffle iron.

Forget all that good stuff. What a worthless store.

Crazy Sweet Sauce

The future is now! It's not exactly The Jetson's; we're not talking about flying cars and tricorders and portable waffle irons, but it's still pretty flippin' sweet. Here's a non-comprehensive list of the things that I've done today on my phone. That's right, iPhone only.

1. Checked my Facebook. Remember when you needed a computer to do that? It was like three weeks ago.

2. Listened to the Foo Fighters. This used to require a Walkman. Those were awesome. Hard to believe that we had to flip tapes over. B-sides are just a figure of speech now.

3. Scheduled a hair cut. Could've done it over video chat, but I think that would have been more difficult.

4. Took a picture, and edited it without ever standing in line at a photohut. Although I worked at a photo store for 6 years, so this makes me a bit nostalgic for the days of film.

5. Searched for a dog. Found one that I love. He's in Seattle. Never made a phone call. Realized that I'm torturing myself because I'm not allowed to have a dog in my apartment. Put this off till later.

6. Transferred a movie trailer from my phone to my PC. The very idea that we can have a movie trailer on our phone is just stupid. Oh, and it's in Hi-Def.

7. Downloaded and started reading a book. No paper involved. This is not as awesome. I miss the smell of library books. The smell of old paper and the most boring job I ever had. (Boring story furnished upon request.)

8. Created a custom iPhone case. It's awesome, it has a picture of Clive Owen on it...

9. Transferred money from my checking account to savings. No bank teller required, and we all know that's good!

10. Played Monopoly against the computer, and played Scrabble against a friend. He lives in Nashville, and there's none of those ridiculous little tiles to lose or get stuck in your ear canal.

11. Added a movie to my Netflix queue. Again, the very idea that I can watch a movie without playing a movie is David Copperfield level magic.

12. Watched Family Guy clips. They're funny.

13. Listened to the Billboard Top 100 from 1997. I had forgotten about Savage Garden. Wish I could reforget. And it's 13 years, and I'm STILL Not a Playa.

14. Searched for an apartment in two different cities. And you can narrow it down only apartments that have AC, a pool, hardwood floors, vaulted ceilings, and park views. Not that anyone would want to live in such a place.

15. Listened to the police scanner. Not a ton going on in Moscow on Saturday of a three day weekend at 2 in the afternoon in the middle of the summer. (A lot going on in that sentence, however.)

16. Typed out this entire column. And by column, I mean glorified list. But seriously, did the whole thing on my iPhone. I'm a big kid now.

So is this the brave new world? I'm not really sure. There's a lot to be said for going to the humane society and actually playing with the dogs, or playing a board game on a board, or talking to a friend on the phone (or God forbid in person), or getting arrested. There's a simplicity and depth to all these things that just can't be topped.

On the other hand, look how shiny!!!!

Back to the Drawing Board

It turns out there’s a point at which every person runs out of ideas. Some lucky few are gifted enough (or crazy enough) to hit that wall late in life, after they’ve spit out hundreds of proverbial lightbulbs. Think Ron Popeil, whose mind is apparently just a big kitchen supply store with a few assorted neurons that fire to make his mouth move. Being the world’s preeminent infomercial salesman is a dubious honor, perhaps, but it must have been pretty amazing to spend his days with non-stop kitchen genius spewing from that electrical storm. Or it might have been misery. My gut tells me that having that kind of hypervigilance, never being able to turn it off, would probably make for some tough times, the least of which would be an extreme case of insomnia. I mean, I’ve got things on my mind far less profitable than the table-top rotisserie, and I still can’t sleep sometimes. It’s only fair that I should have a dream in which the Archangel appears and shows me how to make a waffle iron that can plug into the lighter in your car, or more specifically, my Time Warner van. This is actually how I plan to make my mark on the world (nay, the universe), as the cable guy who will make you breakfast for any of the three meals, and elevensies (hobbit reference). This of course is included with the price of your install.

But even Ron must have woken up one morning, sat down at his work bench (drawing board, hence the title), and listened as his brain said, “Not today. No more inventions for you. I’m tired.” And I know how he feels, because I just hit that wall. Yup, this is a column about writer’s block. I’ve been trying for two days to think of something to write about, to no avail. So I did what any rational person would do, and confronted the problem head on. That’s why you may find yourself reading this and thinking how little sense it makes. Sadly, this is your fault. I’m not one to lay blame, but if you these paragraphs seem disjointed to you, it is simply because you are not reading correctly.

But I can help, with my new Reading Right series! For only 5 easy payments of $24.18, I can learn you how to read good! The Reading Right series is based on the revolutionary process of rossnation…ism, in which I take your money, obviously not in personal check form, and continue to write nonsense like this, which you read and forward to your friends and coworkers. They will promptly delete it, or ignore completely, and respond asking you to quit forwarding spam. But then later at the water cooler, you will tell them that all about how you are learning to read right, and they will understand. Reading Right has already been responsible for over 4 lost hours of workplace productivity! And you can be a part of the Reading Right Revolution!

But wait! If you respond in the next fifteen minutes (because we can’t do this all day!), you’ll also be enrolled in the rossnation… Writing Right workshop at the Spokane Airport Ramada Inn! You’ll spend 14 hours with rossnation…’s crack writing team, learning the skills you’ll need to open your own rossnation… franchise! Are you tired of answering to someone else at work? rossnation… Writing Right can help you become the master of your fate, AND teach you how to teach your children how to read and write right! All this for 5 non-refundable, but still easy, payments of $24.18 (+S&H).

HOLD ON! You’ll also receive your very own rossnation… email address! Be the envy of all your friends when you tell them to email you at YOURNAME@rossnation.30isthenewboring.blogspot.com/emailserver/! You’re guaranteed to get that new job when your resume boasts a rossnation… email address!*

Just listen to some of our semi-satisfied customers:

“I had writer’s block, and then I gave this guy some money!” Chuck in Cuyahoga Falls

“All I had the energy to do was watch The X-Files. But now because of rossnation…’s Reading Right, my computer has a virus and Netflix doesn’t work!” Matilda in Michigan City

“You’re not going to quote me, are you?” Jake in Boise

So are you tired of writer’s block?! So was I, but Reading Right and Writing Right changed all that, and it can do it for you too! Are you ready for the revolution?! Then Skype us now! You won’t regret it. (You might.)

*This guarantee is not guaranteed.