Name: BEN VANKAT
Event: MALE
Time: 8:47
Overall Place: 396 of 1126
Place in Gender: 311 of 524
Place in Age Division: 104 of 156

Luckily they didn’t include “Time behind brother”, “Times stopped for water” and “Amount of time spent wishing he had just been a volunteer”.

Managing editor walks over by my desk with two coats slung over his shoulder.

Me: Hey there. What’s with the coats?
Him: Oh, nothing. Just holding the mayor’s coat. He’s in the bathroom.

Then Jim Suttle comes out and they go to lunch.

Mom and Dad called us tonight to meet for some drinks at the Homy Inn after dinner. And, while they were waiting for us, they struck up a conversation with a guy sitting at the bar.

Friendly guy, a little intoxicated. He added talked Dad’s ear off and hit on Mom for a while before finally getting up to leave. But before he walked out, he gave one of the greatest drunken speeches I’ve ever witnessed.

He went on and on — probably three minutes — about how in love the two of them seemed. No matter what happens in the universe, they were always meant to be together, he said. (Which of course led both Mom and Dad to make a wisecrack about trying to get rid of the other.)

Here’s the guy’s kicker, directed at Mom. A classic:

“Even if you die and he’s still alive, you’ll still be together eventually, happily ever after. It’s just meant to be. You can both live on in another life in another universe. He’ll be the horse’s ass and you’ll be the jockey.”

And with that, he bid us adieu (no really, he bid us adieu!) and walked out the door.

This is where I should have included the animated GIF of a dumptruck driving across the screen. Under construction.

If you’re reading this, you’ve probably arrived at the new, Wordpress version of the blog. It’s a behind-the-scenes change, but a pretty big one, so there will probably be some headaches with old links and bookmarks. Also, if you typically get updates through an RSS reader, there’s a new address for that, too. Make sure you switch your subscription over to one of the new options …

http://benvankat.com/blog/feed/rss
http://benvankat.com/blog/feed/atom

Let’s hope this works … Email me if there’s trouble.

Saints win. Good job, man.

(click for larger)

A cool article and charts from the Wall Street Journal with some surprising numbers about an NFL football game. Well, maybe not surprising, but I just never realized it.

According to a Wall Street Journal study of four recent broadcasts, and similar estimates by researchers, the average amount of time the ball is in play on the field during an NFL game is about 11 minutes.

So what do the networks do with the other 174 minutes in a typical broadcast? Not surprisingly, commercials take up about an hour. As many as 75 minutes, or about 60% of the total air time, excluding commercials, is spent on shots of players huddling, standing at the line of scrimmage or just generally milling about between snaps. While the network announcers showed up on screen for just 30 seconds, shots of the head coaches and referees took up about 7% of the average show.

And some crazy numbers about the manpower and money involved:

In the past decade, regular-season football telecasts have evolved into major productions that can cost between $150,000 and $250,000. Networks say they have anywhere from 80 to 200 people on hand per game with dozens of cameras. (NBC says its broadcasts require seven production trucks.)

[Wall Street Journal - 11 minutes of action]

You’re probably doing yourself a disservice if you don’t watch this in full screen.

Alaska Nanooks 2010 Hockey Intro from Szymon Weglarski on Vimeo.

[Vimeo - Alaska Nanooks 2010 Hockey Intro]

I’ve been about 80% deaf in my left ear for a week now, thanks to some buildup, so cracking open the fortune cookie at lunch today made this one extra special:

“Avoid misunderstanding by keeping your ears open.”

[NBC Video - The Tonight Show, Jan. 11, 2010]

Now that the driveway’s clear, I’ve moved on to tackling our ice dams. Obviously, the roof rake was a first step toward keeping our ceilings from caving in, but these 12-below morning aren’t helping our cause.

So, I turned to the internet.

Dear Google, I like our drywall. Help me save it. Love, Ben.

Aside from “Tips for packing up and moving to a warmer climate,” I didn’t get much help until I made it to the “This Old House” website.

Their experts told me to go buy some panty hose.

And, since my brain was frozen from being outside, I didn’t think twice about it until I got to Walgreens and found out they were out of the driveway-ice-melt-salt
stuff that Bob Vila told me to put INSIDE the panty hose to melt the ice dams.

So, I’m standing at the counter with two packs of jet black No Nonsense Ultimate Shapers, getting strange looks from the cashier and the women behind me.

“So, is that it?” the cashier asks, curling her lip.

“Yeah, since you guys are all out of tools, aftershave and Jack Daniels,” I should have said loudly.

I felt much more comfortable in the Lowe’s checkout line buying the ice melt. Now I just have to figure out what I’m going to tell the neighbors that saw me outside trying to figure out which side of the panty hose was the open end.