Archive for April, 2011

The Clarification

I have come to realize that the opening paragraph of yesterday’s post might be misleading to most of my readers.

“Other than the most basic of necessities … I really don’t ask for a lot of things.”

I can see now how that statement paints me in an extremely angelic light but that was not my intended purpose.  In fact, I can be quite challenging to work with at times like when I’m stiff or tired or sick with a cold or practically any other time of the day.

I was only looking for an interesting and creative way to transition into asking my readers for something.  I did not intend to imply that being a part of my posse is a day at the beach or a walk in the park or in any way at all like living in a van down by the river with motivational speaking legend Matt Foley (as pictured at right). 

I apologize for any confusion my words may have caused.



The Decision

Thank you to all of you who either voted in the poll or took the time to post a comment (or did both) in my Conundrum entry from last week.

While your words of wisdom were encouraging and the votes were overwhelmingly — to the tune of 4 to 1 — in favor of rocking the socks sandals shorts look , I have made the decision to go against the popular sentiment.

I cannot, in reasonable, fashionable, good conscience, continue to wear the aforementioned Triple S combination.  I just can’t do it!  There was a time in my pre-Fehmeen life where I wore tapered jeans and bowling shirts every day but she broke me of that habit so much so that for a little while I almost considered myself a budding metrosexual.  Almost.

The only time anyone will see me wearing those Triple S’s is when I go to physical therapy each Wednesday.  I will continue to commit the crime of fashion solely out of respect for Robin and Lindsey, who dedicate an hour of their week to making sure my body gets stretched out.

It’s the least I can do if I want to continue receiving treatment from them.


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Other than the most basic of necessities, like being showered and fed and adjusted and suctioned (to name a few), I really don’t ask for a lot of things.  Just give me my eye gaze, recliner, flat screen, and time to spend with family and friends, and I’m good to go.

However, that said, there are a couple of things that I need to ask you, the local Bay Area Adventures of ALS Boy blog-reading community, to procure for me.

The first item is a 2011 SF Giants schedule.  I know that they are available online but I have my heart set on getting the kind they give away at the ballpark or at Giants Dugout stores.  My plan is to have it taped onto the arm that supports my eye gaze so I can look at it each and every day.  If you happen to score one of these bad boys and manage to get it to somebody who can get it to me, I will be most appreciative.

The other item is a bit more complicated and technologically challenging.  It is also the culmination of a lifetime of personal musical performances so it is a project that is fairly high on the priority ladder.

I have a bunch of audio cassette recordings of me playing and singing in various bands over the last twenty-five years.  The plan is to convert selected songs from those tapes into digital mp3 files.

What I need from you, should you be willing and able to assist in this endeavor, is to be the engineer who flips the switches and pushes the buttons.  I have a laptop, a stereo, and a slightly more than vague idea of how to pull this off.  (Hey, the directions are bookmarked).

If you are interested in doing this, I am happy to work around your schedule.  Please leave a comment or send me an email at jasonp110@yahoo.com  .  Thank you.

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Hello there, everyone!  Sorry for the tardiness of this post but I’m working through an industrial strength-sized hangover from this raging birthday party last night.  We woke up with a tiger in the bathroom, a baby named Carlos in the closet, and our friend Doug was missing.

Anyway, on to the winning entry from last week.

Who you calling a pussy!! - Kenny

Congratulations to Kenny, husband of Donna, on earning the W for the week.  Your prize package includes free VHS rentals for life at Speedy Spot in San Bruno (but only when Sonny is working) and dinner for two at TGI Friday’s (San Bruno location only).  Props to you, Kenny, and good luck defending your crown this time.

Here are the runner-ups:

  • E Pluribus Unum, my arse.  Felines rule. – Bibliotekaren
  • The cat blithely made a trip to American Eagle Outfitters. – Philip Arcuni
  • Cat. The other white meat. – Matt

Thank you to everyone who entered, keep ’em coming.  I appreciate your continued participation.

Without further adieu, I present to you this week’s picture:

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As the weather turns warmer and cargo shorts replace blue jeans as the official lower body wardrobe choice of ALS Boy, I suddenly find myself with an interesting dilemma.

Do I continue to do what I have done all winter long and by doing so risk drawing scorn and critical glances from friends and strangers alike or do I go back to the way it used to be last summer and offend the senses and sensibilities of those around me?

I suppose before I formally ask for your help with this decision I probably should clarify things for you a little bit.

I don’t wear shoes any more.  It’s been over a year since I’ve worn anything but sandals and I don’t plan on changing back to those curly laced torture devices during this lifetime.  That is not the topic of my moral quandary.

The issue at hand is that I’ve gotten really used to wearing socks with my sandals.  It’s been borderline acceptable to do this during the fall and winter months because I had pants on and the fashion miscue wasn’t eminently noticeable.  But now that it’s springtime, I’m fairly certain that the shorts-socks-sandals look just ain’t gonna fly with the people that have to be seen in public with me.

So what’s the big hangup then?  Why don’t I just go commando — sandals sans socks — like any other reasonably minded, semi-fashionable person would do and be done with it?

The answer to that million dollar question is that without socks providing a much needed buffer between the synthetic material of the sandals and my feet there exists an otherworldly funky stench so olfactorily offensive that you wouldn’t unleash it on your worst enemy.

Okay, I may be guilty of hyperbole here but I’m told it’s a little stinky.

So now that you are up to speed on the two sides of the debate, I feel that now’s the time to solicit your opinion about my next course of action.

Do I flaunt the rules of decent society and roll around town in a perpetual state of fashion faux pas or do I embrace my inner Pigpen and let the bodies hit the floor?

Your anonymous vote determines the fate of those around me.

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