The Last Milli Vanilli Fan

The Last Milli Vanilli Fan

Back in the spring of 1989 when Milli Vanilli released their smash Album, Girl You Know It's True, a friend of mine introduced them to me. I made a copy of her cassette (life before CDs in my world) and practically wore it out in my tape deck. It was one of the first CDs I eventually bought when I got a CD player.

The album was great driving music. I jammed to it many a time on my commute to and from my retail job at Sears that summer. My senior year of high school followed in the fall and I began a lot of my mornings with Milli Vanilli's peppy, infectious tunes. It helped get me through that final year.

It was also great party music. It seemed that everywhere I went that summer, a Milli Vanilli song made it into the music rotation. The album is easy to listen to and easy to dance to, even for a disjointed white boy like myself.

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Dre Not As Good As Cube

Dre Not As Good As Cube

Yeah, you heard me right: Dre not as good as Cube. I overheard this the other day out in public. I don't know about you but I didn't need to hear any more. What witticism can you follow this up with anyway?

Any actual conversation that follows would be pale in comparison to one you could imagine. This is as classic as saying Coke not as good as Pepsi. Or Ford not as good as Chevy.

Dre not as good as Cube.

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Can You Hear Me Now?

Can You Hear Me Now?

No, this isn't about a stupid cell phone commercial where a chubby geeky guy walks around saying the stupid catch-phrase into a dummy phone. (Side note: I had seen three different commercials before I noticed his wannabe beer gut. You see it?)

This post is about those stupid hearing tests we all took in elementary school. Remember them?

You put those stethoscope-looking things over your ears while some schmuck behind a glass wall pushed buttons on a machine you couldn't see. You were supposed to raise your hand when you heard a sound.

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The Worst Position in Football

The Worst Position in Football

I never played football growing up because my mom wouldn't let me. I was accident prone enough without adding eleven guys to the equation, all in pads (read: armor) trying their best to knock me on my almost-non-existent ass . But if I had played, there's one position I wouldn't have wanted.

Center.

For those of you living in a cave or outside the U.S., that's the guy who snaps the ball to the quarterback. To me, that's got to be the worst position in the sport.

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The Raisin Bran Conspiracy

The Raisin Bran Conspiracy

I'm 36. I've been in love more than once and I've done my fair share of traveling. I've been to Disney World, I've seen the Grand Canyon, and I've partied in Time Square. I'm 36 and I just had my first bowl of Raisin Bran.

Now I'm the first to admit I grew up sheltered from a lot of different cultures. The nearest neighbor was a quarter mile away and we got only four TV channels. Five on a clear night. I didn't have cable until my sophomore year in college.

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