I don't fail at many things. Generally, I'm at least decent at everything I have ever done. This includes things ranging from rapping songs to wrapping gifts (God, I love puns). Even though I have been exposed to failures, I never really experienced it before.
There are plenty of examples of failure around us. Fail blog made a website about it. There is a movie made called The Failures. There are even examples in the NFL, in the form of the Washington Redskins. They are an awful team to start with, but their disastrous trick play they tried to pull last night on the Giants brought their atrocity of a season to a whole new level of bad. I actually saw this live last night, and started laughing before the play began. After seeing a few replays, I decided it was one of the funniest attempts and subsequent failures I had ever seen. Maybe that exposure to failure helped cause what happened to me today.
Today, I failed my driver's test. (This would be a perfect FML) Quite frankly, I am a fine driver. I'm probably the only person in the history of Pennsylvania to actually complete the required 50 hours of driving, yet I still failed. How, may you ask? I could tell from the start that it wasn't going to end well.
Jeffrey J. and I rolled up at the DMV looking fresh to death in our brand-spankin' new (read: several month old) Subaru. We both had on suits, since he went to work earlier, and I had to dress up for school, since I'm a basketball manager and all. We were just chilling there, jamming to some Christmas carols to get into the spirit. My test administrator came walking out of the building, and it was then that I had a bad feeling about what would happen next. This guy was really, really old. In fact, he had so many wrinkles, it looked like his face could be a topographic map of San Francisco. Once he stepped in the car, one thing was clear to both of us. He was intimidated by me, since I was obviously the better dressed of the two of us, and he was the one working. The elephant in the room, or car, just wouldn't leave. Fortunately for him, it didn't last long. We were driving to go take the parking portion of the test when we reached a stop sign. I stopped; naturally I didn't want to fail. Then I continued on to go park.
If any of you have ever parallel parked, it really is not that difficult. I am pretty good at it, or so I thought. I started out too far away, and went a little too fast. The old guy riding with me claims that I hit the barrel in the back. It was pretty obvious to me that I didn't come close to hitting it. He was probably just imagining things. I cut the guy a break; he was old after all. He told me pull out and pull down the driveway. I looked at him kind of funny, because I clearly had not parallel parked yet. I followed his instructions and pulled into a parking space. He told me I failed because I hit the barrel. Then he added on that I "rolled" the stop sign. Of course I was shocked, appalled, and very angry since neither of these things happened. It would have been impossible for him to determine whether or not I hit the barrel. Again, he was very old, so for him to hear or see something in the present conditions would have been very unlikely. Come to think of it, he definitely was imagining things. As for the stop sign, the Sobel Soup is a busy man. I have places to go and people to see, ladies and gentlemen, and if he can't accept that I guess I'll just have to ask for a new instructor next time.
He gave me some advice for next time: Stop at the sign, say S-T-O-P out loud, and then proceed. I wanted to ask him what the odds are that anyone has ever done that while actually driving a car, ever. I restrained, because I didn't want to get kicked out of the DMV, and not be able to retake my test. If anything, a person should be rewarded for not saying S-T-O-P out loud. Let's say someone did that out on the actual roads. Can you imagine what the guy behind him would do? I, for one, would lay down the horn. Plus, by concentrating so hard on saying S-T-O-P, a person would lose focus on the roads and might even get into a crash. It annoys the hell out of me already, and I'm just typing it.
Basking in my defeat, I had nothing else to do but to try and make a pun. Unfortunately, the only thing I came up with was Penn-Don't, a play off PennDot which is another failure in itself. I'm just going to stop while I'm ahead.
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One thing that didn't fail recently was Nota, who won the Sing Off title, and the 100 G's that go with it, last night. If you may recall, I predicted this almost a week ago. Sure enough it came true. What else do you expect?
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No one sent in a video for this post (a further example of my failure), so I decided to put in a video I have recently discovered. I used to not like Jared Allen very much, mainly because he has the dumbest sack dance known to man. But since I saw this video, he is instantly my favorite NFL player who is not on the Eagles. I would just like to say before you all watch this, that I have since followed Jared's advice about a few topics. If anyone ever asks me if I want extra mayonnaise, I will indeed say yes. And I will try to shape my chest hair in a heart, to see if it is as tight as he claims it to be.
"Damn, he likes to party. With two r's"
Always Serving,
Sobel Soup
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
The Return of the Sobel Soup
I know you can't believe your eyes right now. Neither can I. It had been way too long, and like Dan Quayle once said: "What a waste it is to lose one's mind. Or not to have a mind is being very wasteful. How true that is." I thought I would take DQ's advice to heart and not waste my talents not writing on this blog. Then again, this was the same man who once said "We all lived in this century. I didn't live in this century," so taking advice from him might not be the smartest idea. It wouldn't shock me if you were doubtful of the fact that Dan Quayle actually said those things, but trust me, he did. I found it on one of those quote pages. Speaking of which, I stumbled across one of those for me during English class this year with Squeaky Eiel. Even though he says it is pathetic to Google yourself, everybody and their mother does it from time to time. Some extremely kind reader submitted my quote to this website. Thanks to the person who submitted it, and to those of you who only rated it 3 stars, shame on you.
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As far as sports goes, I have missed a lot. This includes the Phillies unfortunate loss to the Yankees in the World Series. I did happen to be at Game 4 of the NLCS, yes that game. Needless to say, me and Jeffrey J. were jumping for joy at the end of the game. Oh yeah, we also happened to be on TV. I received a few texts saying that Jeff and I had been on the tube. Yes, it was probably the greatest night of my life. And yes, when I got home I did text everyone in my phonebook telling them that I was on television.
The Phillies have made big news today, as well. Of course I am talking about trading Cliff Lee and prospects to the Mariners and Blue Jays for Roy Halladay. My jury is still out on how much I like the deal. Also, I'm fairly disappointed in the fact that we traded away Michael Taylor, one of those prospects. Fat Dub went to see a Reading Phillies game once and saw Taylor play. What Fat Dub witnessed that night was legendary. Michael Taylor went 5-5, hit for the cycle, his second home run being the game winner. He was impressed, and I trust Fat Dub's scouting abilities.
The Eagles are looking fantastic, even without the baller of that defense, Stewart Bradley, who looks like Fletch with that haircut (props to Uncle Kevin on the Fletch information). The Flyers really aren't looking too good, and the Sixers are just downright pathetic.
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One reason for my neglect of the blog has been my constant school activities. I have started writing for the Panther Press, and in the latest issue I interviewed Gino 'Gig' Miraglia. Just as a preview, I'm looking to interview Wisconsin hero, and blog-hater, T.J. Adams next. I made a promise to TBD that I would interview him, but I'm saving that for baiseball season. I also played soccer for the school. Before the season started, after a long day of playing, the team decided to go out to get some food. Bradley Pratzner, a good friend of mine, discovered an all-you-can-eat chicken wings offer for that night. It was a great plan. The offer also happened to be at Hooters. That made it an even greater plan.
It was my first time eating at Hooters, and the food wasn't all that. I honestly have no idea how the place stays in business. Anyway, several guys were there, including my boy XR, Xander Rizzello, who said he would rather kill a human being than a dog, in defense of Donte Stallworth over Michael Vick. I'm going to stay away from those two specific cases, but I'm just going to say that what Xander said that day rivals Dan Quayle's quotes for the dumbest things I have ever heard. It's alright though, because X does a killer impersonation of Pete Luzak. Kelsey and Nick were also there, and you know from my past blog posts that they have an affinity for claiming it to be my birthday, when it really isn't. Of course, they told the waitresses there that it was my birthday. Now, this was one of the most humiliating moments of my life (so far). To put it simply, I was flustered. At first when they invited me up, I cowered in the corner for the whole restaurant to see. Then, when I finally gathered up the courage to walk to where they wanted me to, they asked me my age. This totally caught me off guard. At first I said 17, but then I quickly changed my answer to 16. I'm sure it made it sound as if it wasn't my birthday. That probably had something to do with what the Hooters girls made me do next. I was forced to stand up on a chair, holding a plastic cup with my mouth and holding two take-out trays under each arm. They were my beak and my wings, of course. Then the entire restaurant preceded to sing Happy Birthday to me, while I flapped my wings in shame. When I sat down, one of the Hooters girls pretty much pulled an Annalise Penikis and ate a Big Mac on me. (Shout-out! Even though she will probably kill me!!) Still basking in my embarrassment, I just wasn't having any of it. She got the message pretty quickly when I told her "I have no idea where I got my shirt, and I don't find it relevant at all." In retrospect, I totally spat in her Big Mac. So this is my formal apology: I'm sorry, Hooters girl.
Most of you know how I like following in the footsteps of my inspiration, Mark Titus. It's odd to say this, but I may have out-Titused Titus this year. First, I sat on the end of the bench all soccer season (I did happen to score one goal. It was glorious). It was a lot of fun, even though I wasn't high enough on the totem pole to be Strath Haven's version of the Human Victory Cigar. I'm not cool enough to be one, seeing as Omari was the first (and best) for Swarthmore last season. Besides sitting on the bench for soccer, I have also become the manager for the basketball team.
One of the reasons I have decided to start the blog up again is that I was specifically asked by K-Vale, Kevin Valentino, when the next post would be. He asked me this on the basketball bus, so I thought it was appropriate to include that in this section. Anyway, Mark Titus was the manager for the Ohio State basketball team too, before he started playing as a walk-on. The only difference between us is that he has a wet jumper, while I (only sometimes) have wet pants, thanks to the lady who spilled her water all over me during the Marple Newtown game.
Not only am I managing the basketball team, but I also run winter track. Yeah, I know what you are thinking. Winter track, basketball manager, soccer team, Panther Press, the Soup Kitchen, various other small-sided tasks. How do I do it? The truth is I'm not really sure. Even though I have more on my plate than Tiger Woods does, I'd say I'm handling it pretty well.
I joined winter track for a few reasons. One of them was that I thought it was called "Indoor track." I learned the hard way that distance runners don't run inside (By the way, have you ever noticed that distance runners is an extremely unspecific term. Everyone that does track runs at least some distance, so, technically, everybody is a distance runner). Another reason I saw fit to join was the fact that Coach Ed coaches winter track as well. This, believe it or not, has fallen to pieces too. The other day at intervals, Coach Ed started yelling at me. In hindsight, he didn't really yell at me, and I actually did deserve it. I sort of went on a full sprint in the outside lane (It only let me pass about half of the runners. Take that statistic as you will) and finished with a Desmond Howard Heisman pose. The last part probably would have been fine, if I wasn't supposed to be running while I was doing it. We had our first meet on Saturday, and I hate it already. Besides the fact that we have to wear really, really short shorts (repetition at its finest), I faced other kids who are more athletically-gifted and who have better work ethic than I do. Oh yeah, and we have to wake up at 6 in the morning. Track is seeming more and more like a great decision to me every day.
___________________________________________________
In the past few days, I have taken a likening to the show The Sing Off. If you haven't been watching, you need to. And I'm saying this now so no one takes my idea: Nota is the best, and they are going to win the entire thing. Their rendition of Down last night was probably the best thing I have ever seen.
___________________________________________________
Over Thanksgiving, I was lucky enough to spend time with my family. We happened to go to Midnight Madness at the Limerick Outlets, and it was truly Madness. We snuck in a backway to beat the traffic, and it was really a sight to behold, even though we didn't end up buying anything. We actually ended up going to the Ruby Tuesdays. Yes, it was 2 in the morning, but, just like Lucky Charms, their brunch menu was magically delicious. The person who was loving it the most was my cousin, David (For the record, the person who was loving it the least was my cousin Evan. He got left at home). He said he had the most fun he ever had in his life. The scary, and somewhat pathetic part (sorry Dave) is that he is being truthful. David also recommended a video for me to use for my next blog entry. He had been bugging me about it, so there was no way I wasn't going to use it. Also, it was a great selection. I had never seen this video of Carlton, and it is better than any Fresh Prince link I have ever put on here. Without further ado, the World Famous Carlton Dance.
Always Serving,
Sobel Soup
___________________________________________________
As far as sports goes, I have missed a lot. This includes the Phillies unfortunate loss to the Yankees in the World Series. I did happen to be at Game 4 of the NLCS, yes that game. Needless to say, me and Jeffrey J. were jumping for joy at the end of the game. Oh yeah, we also happened to be on TV. I received a few texts saying that Jeff and I had been on the tube. Yes, it was probably the greatest night of my life. And yes, when I got home I did text everyone in my phonebook telling them that I was on television.
The Phillies have made big news today, as well. Of course I am talking about trading Cliff Lee and prospects to the Mariners and Blue Jays for Roy Halladay. My jury is still out on how much I like the deal. Also, I'm fairly disappointed in the fact that we traded away Michael Taylor, one of those prospects. Fat Dub went to see a Reading Phillies game once and saw Taylor play. What Fat Dub witnessed that night was legendary. Michael Taylor went 5-5, hit for the cycle, his second home run being the game winner. He was impressed, and I trust Fat Dub's scouting abilities.
The Eagles are looking fantastic, even without the baller of that defense, Stewart Bradley, who looks like Fletch with that haircut (props to Uncle Kevin on the Fletch information). The Flyers really aren't looking too good, and the Sixers are just downright pathetic.
___________________________________________________
One reason for my neglect of the blog has been my constant school activities. I have started writing for the Panther Press, and in the latest issue I interviewed Gino 'Gig' Miraglia. Just as a preview, I'm looking to interview Wisconsin hero, and blog-hater, T.J. Adams next. I made a promise to TBD that I would interview him, but I'm saving that for baiseball season. I also played soccer for the school. Before the season started, after a long day of playing, the team decided to go out to get some food. Bradley Pratzner, a good friend of mine, discovered an all-you-can-eat chicken wings offer for that night. It was a great plan. The offer also happened to be at Hooters. That made it an even greater plan.
It was my first time eating at Hooters, and the food wasn't all that. I honestly have no idea how the place stays in business. Anyway, several guys were there, including my boy XR, Xander Rizzello, who said he would rather kill a human being than a dog, in defense of Donte Stallworth over Michael Vick. I'm going to stay away from those two specific cases, but I'm just going to say that what Xander said that day rivals Dan Quayle's quotes for the dumbest things I have ever heard. It's alright though, because X does a killer impersonation of Pete Luzak. Kelsey and Nick were also there, and you know from my past blog posts that they have an affinity for claiming it to be my birthday, when it really isn't. Of course, they told the waitresses there that it was my birthday. Now, this was one of the most humiliating moments of my life (so far). To put it simply, I was flustered. At first when they invited me up, I cowered in the corner for the whole restaurant to see. Then, when I finally gathered up the courage to walk to where they wanted me to, they asked me my age. This totally caught me off guard. At first I said 17, but then I quickly changed my answer to 16. I'm sure it made it sound as if it wasn't my birthday. That probably had something to do with what the Hooters girls made me do next. I was forced to stand up on a chair, holding a plastic cup with my mouth and holding two take-out trays under each arm. They were my beak and my wings, of course. Then the entire restaurant preceded to sing Happy Birthday to me, while I flapped my wings in shame. When I sat down, one of the Hooters girls pretty much pulled an Annalise Penikis and ate a Big Mac on me. (Shout-out! Even though she will probably kill me!!) Still basking in my embarrassment, I just wasn't having any of it. She got the message pretty quickly when I told her "I have no idea where I got my shirt, and I don't find it relevant at all." In retrospect, I totally spat in her Big Mac. So this is my formal apology: I'm sorry, Hooters girl.
Most of you know how I like following in the footsteps of my inspiration, Mark Titus. It's odd to say this, but I may have out-Titused Titus this year. First, I sat on the end of the bench all soccer season (I did happen to score one goal. It was glorious). It was a lot of fun, even though I wasn't high enough on the totem pole to be Strath Haven's version of the Human Victory Cigar. I'm not cool enough to be one, seeing as Omari was the first (and best) for Swarthmore last season. Besides sitting on the bench for soccer, I have also become the manager for the basketball team.
One of the reasons I have decided to start the blog up again is that I was specifically asked by K-Vale, Kevin Valentino, when the next post would be. He asked me this on the basketball bus, so I thought it was appropriate to include that in this section. Anyway, Mark Titus was the manager for the Ohio State basketball team too, before he started playing as a walk-on. The only difference between us is that he has a wet jumper, while I (only sometimes) have wet pants, thanks to the lady who spilled her water all over me during the Marple Newtown game.
Not only am I managing the basketball team, but I also run winter track. Yeah, I know what you are thinking. Winter track, basketball manager, soccer team, Panther Press, the Soup Kitchen, various other small-sided tasks. How do I do it? The truth is I'm not really sure. Even though I have more on my plate than Tiger Woods does, I'd say I'm handling it pretty well.
I joined winter track for a few reasons. One of them was that I thought it was called "Indoor track." I learned the hard way that distance runners don't run inside (By the way, have you ever noticed that distance runners is an extremely unspecific term. Everyone that does track runs at least some distance, so, technically, everybody is a distance runner). Another reason I saw fit to join was the fact that Coach Ed coaches winter track as well. This, believe it or not, has fallen to pieces too. The other day at intervals, Coach Ed started yelling at me. In hindsight, he didn't really yell at me, and I actually did deserve it. I sort of went on a full sprint in the outside lane (It only let me pass about half of the runners. Take that statistic as you will) and finished with a Desmond Howard Heisman pose. The last part probably would have been fine, if I wasn't supposed to be running while I was doing it. We had our first meet on Saturday, and I hate it already. Besides the fact that we have to wear really, really short shorts (repetition at its finest), I faced other kids who are more athletically-gifted and who have better work ethic than I do. Oh yeah, and we have to wake up at 6 in the morning. Track is seeming more and more like a great decision to me every day.
___________________________________________________
In the past few days, I have taken a likening to the show The Sing Off. If you haven't been watching, you need to. And I'm saying this now so no one takes my idea: Nota is the best, and they are going to win the entire thing. Their rendition of Down last night was probably the best thing I have ever seen.
___________________________________________________
Over Thanksgiving, I was lucky enough to spend time with my family. We happened to go to Midnight Madness at the Limerick Outlets, and it was truly Madness. We snuck in a backway to beat the traffic, and it was really a sight to behold, even though we didn't end up buying anything. We actually ended up going to the Ruby Tuesdays. Yes, it was 2 in the morning, but, just like Lucky Charms, their brunch menu was magically delicious. The person who was loving it the most was my cousin, David (For the record, the person who was loving it the least was my cousin Evan. He got left at home). He said he had the most fun he ever had in his life. The scary, and somewhat pathetic part (sorry Dave) is that he is being truthful. David also recommended a video for me to use for my next blog entry. He had been bugging me about it, so there was no way I wasn't going to use it. Also, it was a great selection. I had never seen this video of Carlton, and it is better than any Fresh Prince link I have ever put on here. Without further ado, the World Famous Carlton Dance.
Always Serving,
Sobel Soup
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