My favorite story from yesterday…

Apparently Dan Gilbert, owner of the Cleveland Cavaliers, is not over the ceremonious and unscrupulous way his star player, LeBron James, dumped him and Cleveland in favor of the Miami Heat earlier this past summer.

Mr. Gilbert also owns Fathead.com. You probably know them as the company that sells wall murals of various athletes. According to a USA Today article that appeared on September 21^st, Mr. Gilbert and Fathead.com have completely sold out of all of their LeBron James merchandise.

It seems that Gilbert decided to promote a “close-out” sale by reducing the normal price for James’ merchandise of $99.99 to $17.41.

Why $17.41? Because 1741 is the birth year of Benedict Arnold.

I love it. Way to go Dan Gilbert! That was probably more therapeutic and cheaper than months on a therapist’s couch.

I first saw this on Hugh Hewitt’s website. It caught my attention because it features my alma mater, Olivet Nazarene University. Hewitt wondered how many hours were wasted in putting this together, and then what that translated to in terms of tuition dollars.

More than three decades ago, my classmates and I were pretty adept at wasting time (and tuition dollars). BUT…we were never this creative. Way to go guys; I’m proud of you.

The whole ongoing Rosie O’Donnell mess is a Blogger’s dream come true. So far, I think I’d rather just ignore it…and her. However, I agree with two statements I recently heard.

One comes from my wife who is very smart and discerning. Her point: look past the façade and the posturing and all the analysis and you’ll find a very, very, very troubled woman. Good point.

Perhaps my favorite comment, though, comes from Bernard Goldberg, former reporter for CBS, current Fox News commentator, and author of such books as 110 People Who are Screwing Up America and Bias: A CBS Insider Exposes How the Media Distort the News. He expressed his concern that Rosie’s verbose rambling on ABC’s The View also went, via audio waves, etc. into outer space. His fear? That there might be some form of life out there that we haven’t discovered yet who, when they heard Rosie’s rambling gibberish, would conclude that there is no intelligent life on earth.

Think about it.

I’m on kind of a “forced sabbatical.” At least that’s what I’m calling it (I can’t publish the other names I have for it.) (Just a joke – don’t go wacky on me.). Anyway, one of the things I’m trying to do is focus on getting healthy. You know – eating healthy, exercising – all those things we keep telling ourselves we’ll do someday. Well, someday has apparently arrived.

For humorous inspiration I came across a piece by Marsha Jordan, author of Hugs, Hope and Peanut Butter.

CUPCAKES, CHEETOS, AND COOKIES, OH MY!
By Marsha Jordan

Are you the type of person who eats when you’re stressed? I am. I eat when I’m stressed, when I’m sad, when I’m happy, and when I’m tired. I believe there’s a food for every mood.

I eat for any reason at any time. I eat when I’m watching television, I eat while riding in the car, and I even eat while sitting at the computer. There are enough crumbs in my keyboard to feed a troupe of boy scouts. Every once in a while, I just shake it over the table and announce to the husband, “Dinner’s ready!”

I eat too much, too often. Since I was a kid, I’ve had a weight problem. I could never weight for the next meal. I began wearing a girdle to school in kindergarten, and I’ve been on diets for most of my life.

I recently began yet another new eating regimen. Forbidden food groups include appetizers and desserts, anything processed or fried, and anything with meat or dairy products in it. I must also avoid all foods seen on TV commercials or restaurant menus. I cannot eat anything prepared by my grandma, Aunt Hildegard, my third cousin twice removed, or any other member of the family. It’s called the Oriental Diet. I can eat all I want from the specified food list (celery, kale, bok choi, and those tiny ears of corn), but I must use only one chopstick.

This week, I’ve failed miserably at sticking to my eating plan. I’ve had an insatiable appetite for junk food. In addition to a dumpster load of Hostess Twinkies, I’ve devoured roughly eleven cases of raspberry Fig Newtons and eight and a half pounds of extra crunchy Cheetos. I can’t be sneaky about it either. When the husband asks if I’ve eaten all the Cheetos, how can I look innocent when my fingers and teeth are orange?

Wouldn’t you think that after stuffing myself with junk food all week I’d be satisfied? I’m not. In fact, the more I eat, the more I crave. If I continue this way, I’ll need a front end loader to lift my carcass out of the Lazy Boy.

To make matters worse, I don’t get enough exercise. But I really can’t do much that’s physical, because I think I pulled a fat cell. I’m barely able to crawl to the kitchen for six square meals a day.

I really need to lose weight. I want to know how it feels to bend over and tie my shoes without cutting off the blood supply above my waist and feeling as if my intestines are being pushed out my ears. It would be great to zip my jeans without fainting from lack of oxygen. So I must get back on track. I’ll paste on my refrigerator door that old proverb uttered by some wise sage: “If it tastes good, spit it out.”

From now on, I’ll plan my meals around a main dish of parsley. Only nutritional foods will pass my lips, like rutabagas, spinach, and celery — stuff that takes half an hour to chew. By the time I swallow them, my aching jaws will be too tired to munch extra-crunchy Cheetos or anything else. Now if I could only figure out a way to make veggies taste like turtle cheesecake.

O.K. – it didn’t help me. Maybe it will help you. I’m off to the gym again. I hope I don’t pull a fat cell again. Ugh!!!!

After the post below (What NOT to Buy Your Wife for Christmas), in the interest of fairness, I thought I should list some helpful rules for the wives as they shop for their husband this Christmas. (I also used this last weekend in a message at the church I pastor. It is also an updated adaptation. I first saw it in a daily column I receive called Mikey’s Funnies.)

What to buy your husband for Christmas…

1) When in doubt, buy him a cordless drill. It doesn’t matter if he already has one. I know men who own 17 of them and are extremely happy. As a rule, you can never have too many cordless drills. (No one knows why.)

2) If you can’t afford a cordless drill, buy him anything with the word “ratchet” or “socket” in it. Men love saying those two words. “Hey George, can I borrow your ratchet?” “Sure. By the way, are you finished with my 3/8-inch socket yet?” (No one knows why.)

3) Buy your husband a label maker. They’re almost as good as a cordless drill. Within days there will be labels absolutely everywhere: “Socks,” “Shorts,” “Cups,” “Saucers,” “Door,” “Lock,” “Sink.” You get the idea. (No one knows why.)

4) Men enjoy danger – that’s why they love to barbeque. Get him a monster barbeque grill with a 100-pound propane tank. Then tell him the gas line leaks. “Oh the thrill! The challenge! The danger!” He’ll love it and you won’t have to cook Christmas dinner (as long as you don’t mind burgers and brats for Christmas dinner).

5) Men love chain saws. But never, ever, buy the man you love a chain saw. Everything that stands vertical within 100 yards will be cut down whether it needs it or not. (No one knows why.)

6) Buy your husband a ladder. But make sure it is NOT a step ladder. That’s for wimps. Real men use extension ladders. It MUST be an extension ladder. (No one knows why.)

7) Never buy your husband a bathrobe. If God had wanted men to wear bathrobes, he would never have invented Jockey shorts.

Never buy your husband anything that says, “Some Assembly Required.” It will ruin his special day and he will always have parts left over. (Everyone knows why.)

Merry Christmas, ladies!

Good luck, men!!

A couple of Sundays ago, at the church I pastor, I began my annual Christmas series of messages with a piece of attempted humor on what NOT to buy your wife for Christmas. I adapted and updated a piece from Herb Frost that originally appeared years ago in Readers Digest. I’ve had several requests for it, so here it is:

Christmas is an especially traumatic and stressful time for husbands. True, he only has to buy one gift – the one for his wife. It’s only one gift but every man knows that if he buys his wife the wrong gift, winter at his house can last until July (if you know what I mean). After 29 Christmases with my wife, I still don’t know what gift to buy her. But I do know what NOT to get her. Here are six simple rules:

1) Don’t buy anything that plugs in. Way to utilitarian. You will be met with responses like, “thoughtless,” “unromantic,” and “creatively challenged.” You may not hear those words, but you know the “look.”

2) Don’t buy any clothing that involves sizes. It has been estimated that the chances of getting her size right are one in seven thousand. Why take the 6,999 chances of offending her? Haven’t you ever heard this: “Do I LOOK like a size 16?!?!”

3) Avoid all things useful. Yes, that new vacuum cleaner may have sixteen times the sucking power of her old one but, trust me, as a gift for your wife, it will suck.

4) Don’t buy anything that involves weight loss or self-improvement. Before you buy her that 6-month membership at the gym, make sure you buy a really comfortable couch for yourself.

5) Don’t buy jewelry. The jewelry your wife wants, you can’t afford. And the jewelry you can afford, she doesn’t want.

6) Finally, do not fall into the traditional trap of buying her sexy, frilly underwear. Your idea of the underwear your wife should wear and what she actually wears are light years apart.

Merry Christmas and happy shopping guys.

“Let’s be careful out there.”

So much “serious” ink has been spilled regarding the release of The Da Vinci Code, I thought I’d share a humorous piece. Read on and enjoy. The smile will do you good.

by Dave Tippett

10. In Last Supper painting, Da Vinci drew himself in background as waiter preparing the bill

9. In the painting, James seen listening to iPod in background

8. In movie, TV in background has old “Andy of Mayberry” episode on, the one where Aunt Bea warns Opie to not be involved in no heresy

7. One disciple at Last Supper table seems to have Nike swoosh on his sandal

6. Da Vinci’s “Mona Lisa” revealed to have been first wife of that American Gothic farmer guy with the pitch fork

5. Was discovered that Da Vinci was insanely jealous of the ancient ancestor of Thomas Kincaide and their better-selling “The Soft Lighting Last Supper” painting

4. Da Vinci’s followup painting was first velveteen Elvis

3. The Books of Judas and Mary Magdalene traced to goofy teens on MySpace.com

2. “Code” actually just Da Vinci’s ATM card pin

1. Closer examination of Last Supper’s tablecloth reveals food stains that map out who shot JFK

© 2006 Dave Tippett (djtippHA@yahoo.com). Permission is granted to send this to others, with attribution, but not for commercial purposes.

I subscribe to a daily newsletter to fill my life with a little humor. It comes from Mike Atkinson at Mikey’s Funnies. Recently he shared a piece that only a pastor could love, but I thought I’d pass it on to you anyway. Enjoy.

TOP TEN REJECTED EASTER DRAMAS THIS YEAR

By Dave Tippett

10. Gigantic, super-loud fireworks explosions signal resurrection of Prince of Peace

9. The guy who lost his ear to Peter sells it on eBay

8. Angels swing from piano wire and, for the most part, make it down to the Tomb

7. Guys in metal skirts hurt, too: The Roman’s Story

6. Our elderly and near-sighted ushers will wash your feet throughout the first act

5. It’s the Jets (disciples) vs. the Sharks (Pharisees) in “West Bank Story”!!

4. Last Supper Dinner Theater

3. Stone rolled away and down the aisle

2. Orange construction barrels impede triumphant entry into Jerusalem

1. Aslan the Lion eats evil temple merchants

Copyright 2005 Dave Tippett (djtippHA@yahoo.com).