Monday, August 31, 2009

LOL...ya right.

A few weeks ago I talked about my feelings regarding emoticons. I don't hate the :) I just don't think it should be used after sarcastic or ironic comments. But then there is LOL and all of it's little annoying shorthand friends.

Just like the emoticon, I will admit that there is a time and place for these little emotional textings. Like...oh, I don't know...when they actually describe what you are doing. That would be a novel idea.

I bet 90% of the time (I'm being optimistic), the person who writes LOL didn't really LOL. They probably should have just written CM (Chuckling Mildly). Now, I am a person who likes to laugh and laughs often, but I don't LOL very much. In Meet the Parents, Ben Stiller's character spikes a volleyball into the bride-to-be's nose. LOL! I busted a gut when I watched that...almost peed (how do you spell that?) my pants.

But those moments in life are very few and far between. LOL should be saved for only the classic comedic moments of life which, in most cases, doesn't happen in a text message...unless you've got a comedic genius on the other end or you don't get out much, in general. Most of the time I CM or maybe even CMOL...but LOL? got to earn that. If I ever type LOL in response to something sent my way, then believe was darn funny...and I REALLY did LOL. And that should be true for you too!

I'll tell you what I never do, and neither does anyone else for that matter. ROFL. C'mon! ROFL? Really? Someone types a humourous statement and you get up out of your chair, lie on the ground and ROFL? If LOL is usually one big lie, than ROFL is the mother of all lies.

Now, I'm not saying that type of emotional response never happens, because it does...I've seen it. What I am saying is that you are definitely NOT ROFL while you're at your computer or on the bus reading a message off your "text machine" (I don't want to give anyone free advertising).
Even if what was written was so SUPER funny that it really did knock you onto the floor in a spontaneous emotional moment, then you wouldn't be typing ROFL...because you'd be too busy ROFL. And you definitely aren't going to type ROFL, and then get up and ROFL. That would be just plain weird! "Hey, that was funny! I think I'm going to ROFL. Here I go." Wacko.

Then we have LMAO. Think about it. Enough said.

What I'm saying is this: Just be real! If you REALLY did LOL, then type LOL. If you REALLY did ROFL, then type ROFL (after it's run the course). And, if your A REALLY did fall O then... you might want to type 911.

Have a good one,

*This blog was inspired in part by Michelle and Vanessa.

Friday, August 28, 2009

The Boyle Nose

I'm sure everyone has something about themselves that they have trouble accepting, and wish they could change. If not now, then at some time. I certainly did.

Growing up there were many things about me that I wasn't thrilled with. First of all, I was skinny...really skinny...BONY skinny! I was a literal skeleton until grade 11. When all my friends were experiencing their growth spurts, I was developing flesh. It was creepy. Now, it's not like it didn't have its perks. For three years in a row, at my High School Science Fair, I won first prize for "Best Skeleton System Model". I didn't even build anything, I just showed up!

Then there was the buck teeth, the bowl haircuts nose. The Boyle Nose.

"The Boyle Nose" has slight variations but, in general, it is kind of thin and pointy with a bump on the ridge. It has a unique look but I certainly never considered it one of my better features...or even one of my good features.

I have always loved the camera and there are many, many...many pictures to document my life, but I would bet there are very few of my profile. Now, it's not like I went around avoiding the profile pic, it's just that if there was a camera within eye shot...I quickly turned to mug for it, straight on. I'm sure that Timmy's hanging tongue and/or "thumbs up" can be found in photo albums all over Canada, the U.S. and parts of Europe (thanks to the Ireland trip). But, when there was a "candid" shot, that I didn't prearrange, which caught me from the side...well, let's just say, I didn't print off copies for the neighbours, nor would I have posted it online.

Eventually, I filled out, got my teeth straightened (thanks mom and dad), and did something with my hair. What I did, I'm not quite sure, but it was..better. However, my nose remained the same. And for a while, I was not happy about it. It wasn't an obsession, but it was clearly a point of contention, despite trying desperately to be content with my appearance.

But now...I love my nose!

This is the point in the story where I wish I could tell of some profound experience that instantly changed my perception. I wish I could tell of the mystical moment where angels met me and informed me of the deep purpose behind my nose, one that would ultimately bring peace to the world. I wish I could tell of the heroic time that my nose rescued some child from drowning. I wish I could tell of the monastic month spent on a hillside in northern Alberta where I contemplated life, death and the beauty of my nose...and then I was struck by lightning, never to see my nose the same, again. But I can't tell you any of the surprise of many of you.

That's because there was no singular moment of dramatic change. The journey from shame to pride in regards to my nose was gradual. But, it did finally reach a point where an obvious mental shift had occurred, and when I noticed got me thinking.

What was it? What caused me to embrace "The Boyle Nose"? Simple maturity? A growing inner confidence? A more balanced perspective of life? Maybe. But I think the key is in the name. It wasn't just any nose, that I didn't like. It was a distinctive nose. It was "The Boyle Nose". It was a nose that had been clearly connected, for as long as I can remember, with my heritage. I believe that it was in the understanding of that connection that the acceptance was formed.

Over the years, I have developed an incredible love and respect for my father, his father and the Irish roots from which they, and I...and the nose, have come from.

"The Boyle Nose" is now my badge of honour. I wear it proudly. In fact, not only do I NOT hide it, but my profile is slowly becoming the prominent image that I will be using to promote my comedy and entertainment ventures.

Beautiful isn't it. The nose I mean. One day I'll tell you about the sneezing fits that it has experienced. Those are awesome!

Have a good one,

Thursday, August 27, 2009

17 Again

Last Friday night my wife wanted to rent a movie. I did the honourable husband thing and let her pick the flick. You know what we watched (I hate when people ask that)? If you said, Death Wish 7, you'd be wrong. We rented 17 Again. The movie stars my good friend Zac Effron, quite possibly the man with the creepiest eyes ever.
Nobody has eyes that blue...NO ONE! Not even Sinatra and he was called "Ol' Blue Eyes".

Y'know, it's not a bad little movie. Don't get me wrong, it's no High School Musical. Of course, without Sharpay...what is? I actually thought the movie was amusing and even at times...clever. Zac didn't creep me out and the guy who played his friend (I should probably find out his name) was brilliant. And as is the case with many things in my life...It got me thinking.

Would I want to be 17 again?

That depends on the circumstances, because there are a few different ways that this could happen:

1) A time warp of Star Trek proportions, could place myself back in 1990 simply reliving my life from age 17, with no recollection that I'm reliving it. Which, I may already have done. Who knows.

2) A similar time warp (but funkier) could send me into 1990, in my 17-year old body, but with all of my 36 years of knowledge and wisdom intact (which is A LOT of knowledge and wisdom). Or,

3) Like in the movie, I could simply wake up, here in 2009, everything is the same except that I'm in my 17-year old body.

So, Would I want to be 17 again?

Well, if it was the first situation...who cares. I wouldn't know any different. There isn't much fascinating about not knowing that something fascinating is happening. This is probably why that premise hasn't been made into a movie.

But, the second one is very interesting. If I woke up one morning and found myself in 1990, in my 17-year old body, lying in my old bed, with my GI Joe planes hanging overhead (yes, I was 17 and I had GI Joe planes...and men...and an aircraft carrier), and then I went to school seeing all my friends and foes just as they were almost 20 years ago, AND I was completely aware of what was happening, but everyone else didn't know anything different...hmmm.

I could change my life! And, you know what (I hate when people ask that)? I probably would. Not necessarily on purpose, mind you, but simply because the sum of many little different actions and reactions would equal different results. If you don't understand how this happens I'd encourage you to check out the leading scientific authority on time travel: Back to the Future.

Now, I will admit that I am QUITE intrigued about how I would fare a second time through, if I had the confidence that I have now...back then. For one thing, the worst public speaking moment in my life would be erased, and I would've been Student Council President. Believe me, if I had another shot at that election speech, with my presentation skills now, I would've had that auditorium on their feet cheering, just like in Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure (yet another good source of time travel information).

Who knows what would happen if I was given the chance to be 17 again. It's very easy to think that my life could be better if I had made different choices, but it could also have turned out worse. A second shot at 17, with the ability to alter the present reality, would be fun...really fun. But I love my present life, so even though it'd be cool to be 17 again, under THOSE circumstances, I wouldn't want to do it. Not at the risk of forever altering where I may end up...and not having what I have now.

That leaves me with the third option. The movie's premise.
Everything in my life is as is, the only difference being that I am in my 17-year old body.
So, the question actually becomes, "Would I want to have my 17-year old"

Well, lets see...
If I had my two-year old body, I'd be stumbling around. No thanks.
If I had my six-year old body, I'd be unable to reach things. Nope.
If I had my 10-year old body, I'd have buck teeth. I don't think so.
If I had my 13-year old body, I'd have the whole puberty thing. Not a chance.

But, would I want my 17-year old body again? That answer is a resounding, YES! That would be SWEEEEEET! BRING IT ON!

Now, if I only I could find a time altering whirl pool, like in the movie, to make it happen...
Maybe Ikea has them.

Have a good one,

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Turn of the century social networking


To read this entry, and many other greats from the past,
you’ll need to buy a copy of the greatest collection of wit this side of Jupiter.

Timmys Book Inside Timmys Mind



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Tuesday, August 25, 2009

All day, every day...except weekends.

Well, today I am going to make a bold prediction. Some people have told me I should just keep it to myself. But I want accountability...and something to write about. Really I just needed something to write about. So here it goes:

Inside Timmy's Mind will be a...DAILY blog. That's right. Daily! I know some of you are jumping off your chairs in unbridled excitement, while there are others who are bridges. Regardless, starting yesterday, you can get a fresh Timmy fix every day...5 days a week.

Okay, so it's not at 24-7 blog, but a 24-5 blog is still pretty good I think. Even super brains need a break...and I don't want to develop carpal tunnel syndrome.

A concern that has been raised is that of quality. Can Timmy sustain a high quality blog 24-5 (or even write ONE quality blog for that matter)? The answer, to the first question, is...I don't have to. You see, by creating Mundane Mondays and Trivial Tuesdays...and Thursdays, I have given myself lots of time to come up with something of worth, and still be consistent. Although, I am also considering the institution of Worthless Wednesdays...just in case.

Be assured of this: Friday's are going to be GREAT! Unless I decide to go with Frivolous Fridays. And quality is overrated. I'd rather have lots of crumpled $100 bills than one of exceptional quality.

Now, I know that, in the past, I have started many initiatives with great gusto, only to have them fizzle out. Not this time. I'm doing this. Inside Timmy's Mind is 24-5...until my mind is empty. So, enjoy the next week of blogs, because I don't know how much I've got left.

But mark my words: I will finish what I

Monday, August 24, 2009

An okay looking guy with bad hair

The power of celebrity is an awesome force. I haven't done an official study, but I think it'd be fair to assume that celebrity improves ones attractiveness by at least...800% . Case in point. Robert Pattinson.

If I walked around with hair like that (and I have), I can tell you that it is hardly a "heart throb" moment. Yet Mr. Pattinson, or Robby (as I like to call him), can get out of bed without picking up a brush and still be listed as one of the most beautiful people in the world. The man has bad bed head, 24-7, and the ladies scream marriage proposals. I have bad bed head for 15m and my wife tosses me a brush. Where is Robby's mother for goodness sake?! Someone get that boy a brush!

But then again, why? He's in Hollywood. Hollywood has more professional groomers per capita than anywhere else in the world and yet, it is the one place that you don't need them. Hollywood is the only place where a person can have a hurricane blown look and be considered "sexy". That is the power of celebrity. Who needs groomers when you can be get on the "who's hot" lists, after a 30m nap.

I don't begrudge the guy. All the power to him. It's not his fault people idolize him despite his mediocre looks, that's just one of the weird perks of fame. But I can tell you this: He is considered a heart throb simply because he is "Edward". If Robby wasn't a movie star, he'd An okay looking guy with bad hair.

I want to be famous one day, but not for the money. I just long for the day that I can walk around, like I just woke up, and have the women swoon. My wife's not fond of the idea...but I am.
Have a good one,

Friday, August 21, 2009

Losing isn't nothing.

I'm 5 days removed from one of THE worst sporting moments of my life, but I am now ready to talk about it.

Baseball is my happy place. I'd play it all day and every day, if my life (also spelled with a "W") would allow such a luxury. But once a year, I do get the privilege to play ALL day. It's like Christmas...only better. 'Twas the night before "Tournament Day" and all through the house, not a creature was stirring...except Timmy!'

I've been playing ball every summer for as long as I can remember (let's say 26 years, just for the interest of science). I started late (no t-ball for me) but once I got going I never stopped. I've played a lot of baseball, but Saturday's experience was a first.

I've had my nose bloodied, my ankles turned and my fingers jammed. I've taken balls in the face, the chest and...other places. I've dove for balls in the outfield and slid headfirst into every base possible. But no game has left me hurting as much as I was on Saturday.

I like to win! They say (whoever they are) that "winning isn't everything". That is true, but I'll tell you this...losing isn't nothing. Losing hurts. I take losing hard. I always have. The only difference between then and now is how I handle losing. I used to throw things, like helmets and bats...and bikes. I've matured. I don't throw bikes anymore. But I still don't like to lose.

I used to struggle with this because I'm a Christian. Some people think my faith and a competitive spirit cannot co-exist. It is true that my faith does not condone demeaning trash talk, intent to harm, bursts of rage or a "win at ALL cost" mentality. However, I feel that my faith DOES compel me to do all that I do, including baseball and more specifically, competing in baseball, to the best of my ability.

"Church" leagues are notorious for the "let's just have fun" mentality. But, I don't want to just have fun. I want to win, because winning is fun. If I'm at a picnic, and everyone is just hacking around, then I am more than willing to just "have fun" (most of the time). If I'm in a "league", with uniforms, schedules and "Tournament Day", then let's compete! Let's play to win.

I play hard. I've always been a head first "slider". If a game passes and I haven't slid head first into a base, then I go home sad (regardless of the score). I slide...on gravel. Think about it. Gravel. I have perpetual wounds on my right knee and hip that open up every baseball season and don't close until September. Now, I figure that if I'm willing to slide on gravel, I must really want to win, because if I was running down a gravel road I'd never even consider doing a belly flop. That would be ludicrous. It's gravel!

So, that brings us to Saturday. Round robin tournament. 9am-5pm. Six baseball games, then the finals, if we make it. But we'd make it. We're a good team. A great team actually. In 2003, I joined a team that was clearly re-building. I think half the team was new. Seven seasons later that rag tag group has been to the finals six times and won two championships. In fact, our 2005 championship was the first time I'd ever won a baseball trophy (that didn't say "participant"). It was amazing. I cried. Yep. Like a baby.

Where was I? Oh ya. Saturday. We were defending champions. We had won the 2008 final in spectacular fashion. This really is the story of extremes, because last year I experienced the most exhilarating sporting experience of my life. We had a comeback of epic proportions. Down by six runs in the bottom of the 7th inning (last inning), we tied the game and won it in extra innings. It was unreal...epic really. I cried. Yep. Like a baby.

But that was 2008. Now, it was Saturday, 2009. It was hot, really hot! The day is a grind...a beautiful grind. Our record in the round robin was a perfect 6-0. We had even given the "new" team their first loss of the entire year. They're young and fast...and young. You know you're getting older when you start calling 20-year olds, "kid". Anyways, we faced those kids in the finals and it was, from all accounts, a great game to watch. Multiple lead changes, big plays, controversial calls etc. It came down to the bottom of the 7th, we were down by three runs. We'd been there before, but two outs later we were still down by three. The next five batters managed to manufacture two runs and load the bases. Who was coming up? No...not me (I had tripled earlier, almost killing myself sliding into third). No, it was the one player that was "money" for us all day. Line drive hitter. A guy that I was thrilled to see at the plate in this situation. One more line drive meant we were back to back champions!

You should never count your chickens before they hatch, but I counted them...over and over. I was convinced we'd already won. My heart leaped! I've never seen a pop-up move in slow motion in real life before. My heart sank. We had lost. And it hurt. Real bad. THE worst sporting moment of my life. I hate to lose. We've lost other championships before, but this one was different. I went from sky high to below low in a matter of seconds. This one was painful.

Winning isn't everything, but losing isn't nothing. I know it's "just a game", but to pretend that it didn't hurt, would not only be a lie but it would be an even bigger loss than the game itself. I think, to brush off the pain of failure is to ignore one of the greatest tools for growth that will come across our paths. Winning and losing are apart of life, not just baseball, and to learn how to deal with failure, and the emotions that accompany it, is the key to success.

The magnitude of one's emotional response in victory or defeat reveals a lot about the magnitude of the investment of body, mind and spirit. I'm proud of my reactions to both the wins and losses of the last few years. It shows that I played to win and competed 100%. Playing a team game in a competitive environment, I don't think my team mates, opponents or my God, would ask for anything less. That loss hurt and I'm glad it did, because in that situation...losing should have hurt.

This post has been very therapeutic. Thanks for listening. I feel better now. I learned a lot about myself. Next year I'll learn a lot too...but with a trophy in my arms!

Have a good one,

Friday, August 14, 2009

Emoticons: The enemy of sarcasm and irony

Well, I was getting ready to start my day when I realized I had nothing to write in my blog...but after a quick glance at my Facebook account, I now have something to say.

I am a fan of Ben Stiller and have recently started following him on Twitter and Facebook. (Whether you believe it's actually him is another conversation), but let me start off by sharing some quotes from him.

Ben on Twitter:
"On a remote island vacationing. Really enjoying dropping off the grid totally disconnecting from the world." Now, THAT is funny.

Ben on Facebook:
"I just sent a tweet (see above)...Most replies were 'how can you be off the grid if you are twittering?' which begs the question...does irony not really exist in the twitterverse, or maybe I need an irony emoticon..." To Mr. Stiller I say...PLEASE, NO!

I used to spend more time typing little happy faces after my well crafted sarcastic comments then I did creating the comment...and that's just a waste of both precious time and talent.

The moment one feels the need to put a happy face at the end of an ironic or sarcastic comment is exactly the moment that they should NOT! That feeling proves the quality of your comment, which immediately erodes once the emoticon is added.

If you have to add a happy face, don't bother being sarcastic or ironic. It's like saying, "Hey everyone! Listen to this sarcastic comment!" That sound you hear is the life being SUCKED out of the witty remark.

Sarcasm has a bite, so because you don't want to hurt people's feelings you add a :)
Irony sounds ignorant, so because you don't want people to think you're an idiot you add a :P (which makes you look like an idiot anyways...tongue all hanging out). Look, if you don't want to risk hurting people's feelings or sounding like an idiot...find a different way to express yourself.

To all the lovers of sarcasm and irony I say, "Stay strong! Say no to Emoticons!"


Have a good one,

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Welcome to Timmy's Mind

Well, the blogging has begun. I only hope that it will be as magical an experience as I have set it up to be. Where to begin? Well, it is 10:55am, the sun is shining, a street car has pulled up in front of my home and now...silence.

What does all this mean you ask? It means that the world is still here. That's pretty cool. It also means that I need to eat. I'm thinking eggs today, mainly because it's the only food left in my fridge. Tomorrow is grocery day. Assuming that the world is still here tomorrow. If not, at least no food will go rotting in my home. Of course, if the world wasn't here...who cares.

I'm off. I will do my best to write what it is in my mind. If I find it interesting, funny or absurd then I'll write about it. My hope is that there will be a small group of people that actually enjoy hanging out in Timmy's Mind.

Have a good one,
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