This World Clock site I ran into is pretty cool. It's a running tally on the world population (factoring in births and deaths), barrels of oil pumped, and more.
And the Global Incident site keeps track of the crazy crap going on in the world, like terrorist attacks, wars, and various ugly "incidents".
Wanna know how many people in the U.S. share your first and last name? CLICK HERE. There's 89 folks out there with mine.
Swat that pesky fly (and kill some time waiting for the whistle to blow). CLICK HERE.
Waste some time at work waiting for the whistle to blow with some great reads. I like this one, about how Rock Stars have died, from Blender .
Hey, they're not exactly U.S. News & World Report, but don't think for a second that Blender doesn't tackle hard-hitting news. This one should've won a Pulitzer...
10 Songs You May Have Been Conceived To . (If you're between the ages of 25-35).
They do love their lists at Blender. Like, "The Craziest Pop Stars Ever" (Miley Cyrus has skyrocketed up that list the last few weeks). Or, "Rock Stars Who've Caught Fire On Stage"...a surprisingly long list. And there's many, many, more. Go ahead...the boss isn't looking. Click here...you know you want to.
My story is typical. I was born a poor, Black child. I survived the mean streets of the Buffalo suburbs and four straight losses in the Super Bowl, grew into a mature adult and pillar of the community, and made my parents proud. OK, well, part of that is true. I was indeed raised in the Buffalo 'burbs...North Tonawanda, to be exact. The rest? Well, can't a guy dream?
Here's some highlights. I was a big baby. Like, 20 lbs. Maybe a few less. Mom always reminds me of the pain. The guilt ensures she gets great birthday presents. I have a brother two years older, and he used to make my life a living Hell, like any good brother should. That stopped when I turned 12, and was bigger than him. I spent most of my formative years annoying my elders. That includes parents, teachers, and the police. If I wasn't in after-school detention, I was being questioned for the latest neighborhood "incident". Looking back, it a was all pretty harmless. Well, maybe not the thing we did to our Spanish Teacher. But that's a story for another time. Sports helped keep me out of any serious trouble. Get suspended...and you were kicked off the team. So that only happened once. Maybe twice. With hopes and dreams, and a suitcase filled with Molson Canadian Lager, I headed off to college. Less than a year later, and a plea agreement with a reduced sentence (like I said...never convicted), my college experience wasn't exactly going as planned. But, with threats of bodily harm from Mom solidly in my back pocket, I managed to graduate from Gannon University in Erie, PA, and looked forward to a lucrative career in broadcasting. Soooooooo...I've bounced around from station to station in such vacation hot spots as Clearfield, PA, Joplin, MO, Evansville, IN, and Fayetteville, NC. In February of 1999, I took the job that I have now (more or less).
I never did find that pot of gold, but I've had a lot of fun along the way. And moving here was the best thing that ever happened to me. I met my beautiful wife, Stacy, while watching a Bills game at what used to be Damon's on Tunnel Road, and we were married in September of 2001. I lost my wedding ring in a bizarre chicken wing incident (true story), so I really have no proof. But I think she'll vouch for me. We don't have any children, but we do have cats...lots and lots of cats. I'd love to tell you exactly how many, but I lost track. Seriously, I started counting them the other night, but had to stop after I'd used all my fingers and toes. I was plum out of digits.
So that's my story. Of course, some of the sordid details have been left out due to pending legal action. But, Judge...I swear I had no idea that pig was your pet!
Everybody has a place they can go where the worries of the world are washed away and replaced by pure bliss. For me (and my wife), that place is Charleston and the Isle of Palms.
We first visited on our honeymoon in 2001, and have returned almost every year since, sometimes twice (like this year). People have suggested other locales, espousing the virtues of the Outer Banks, Savannah, and the like. But Charleston is our happy place. For us, it's the perfect combination of location (only a short, 4-hour drive), and choices. You could choose to tour a historic site (Ft. Sumter, Patriots Point, Ft. Moultrie), plantation (Magnolia, Boone Hall, Middleton Place), walk the beach, or eat some of the best food you;ve ever stabbed your fork into. Of the best 12 meals I've had in my life, 11 were here. This morning, I enjoyed Bananas and Nutella French Toast at Seabiscuit Cafe. It was ridiculously good.
The IOP 2013 Tour began yesterday, and it's amazing how much we've done already, not even 24 hours into the trip. We arrived Saturday at noon, and headed straight for Southend Brewery to feast on their smoked chicken nachos. The wife LOVES them. We split them and saved room for the fish n' chips, down the street at The Griffon. Best in town. We also split that, while enjoying our first brew of the day. Nothing quite like the first beer of vacation. So satisfying.
Check-in wasn't until 4pm, and it was now 2pm. Stacy is quite the planner, and we were right on schedule.
Off the Sullivan's Island for a beer at Dunleavy's Pub. Once I have a Dunleavy's Black and Tan (Guinness & Bass), I know I'm on vacation. After a stop at Piggly Wiggly, for provisions, we arrived at our home away from home, for the week, at 3:52. Timing is everything. After the load-in and some showers (88 and humid on Saturday), we ventured to the beach for a quick look, then to The Windjammer, for refreshment. Next, the rooftop deck at Coconut Joe's for a cold one or two with a view. Ahh, nice.
Banana Cabana for dinner, then a late night cigar (Macanudo) and beer on the beach, under the stars. The day could not have ended any better. Well, I could have done without the sand in my shorts, but even that doesn't bother me when I'm in my happy place.