"So, You Think You Can Dance"--As If

When I was in elementary school, I promised my cousin Nathan that I would never stop break dancing. In return, he pledged to me the same solemn oath. Admittedly, since that day, my wave has gotten more than a bit rusty. With some shame, I admit that I do not even have a cut-down refrigerator box anywhere in my house. Of course, this makes it nearly impossible for me to practice back spins even if I wanted to... So yeah, I live with that guilt.

I know that this week So, You Think You Can Dance started a new season. Why I know this, I don't rightly know. So, yes, I not only live with the guilt of a broken promise but also the shame of knowing the coming and goings of show that features Mary Murphy's screaming about the "Hot Tamale Train."

But still... in the past, I have teased my kids that I would try out to try to get a spot on that television program. I would try to get them visualize me busting out some of my better break dancing moves. "Can't you imagine your dad doing the worm?" I told them I might even find one of those shirts I used to wear with about three pounds of zippers holding it together and enough netting to haul in a boatload of fish. "If I were on So, You Think You Can Dance, I might even spring for parachute pants," I would tell them.

As I thought about it though, I decided that I would never go on a show called So, You Think You Can Dance. Honestly, what self-respecting break dancer would? I mean seriously... "Think I can"?! Hah! I know I can. Make me a show called You Know You Can Dance, and I will be there and prepared to put on a break dancing show that I have bottled up for decades too long.

Hot Pockets

Is there such thing as a good experience with a hot pocket other than refusing to eat one? This was brilliant.

A Pokemon Conversation I actually understood

Tonight I was talking to a couple of seven year-old boys about Pokemon. For months now, no matter how a conversation starts with my son and his friends, it always devolves into undecipherable Pokemon banter. Seriously, the kids were talking about swine flu. I mentioned some of the symptoms, including sneezing and within about seconds the two kids were talking about the damage points of some freaking Pokemon named Sneasel. I nearly said, "I quit. I give up. Nothing's good enough for anybody else... it seems."

However, before I walked away like some dejected character on Degrassi Jr. High, I gave it one last shot. Surprisingly, what I assumed was a nothing more Hail Mary pass actually worked. In fact, the kids were a little disappointed when I called it quits and left the porch swing and went into the house. My trick was simple: I just started to ask questions as if these boys and their Pokemon characters lived on my planet and not theirs.

Here are a two of the better interactions:

Q: Which Pokemon would be the worst to have at a sleepover?
A1: [Some Pokemon I don't remember but assume it was "Hemroidichu"] because he is so big and fat, he might roll over and smash you.
A2: Uhhh, that would hurt.... Hemroidichu, get off me! No, [Insert another Pokemon name, like "Michaeljacksonito"] because it sings you to sleep and then attacks you.

Q: If you were on a camp out and you needed a Pokemon to help you roast marshmallows, who would you ask?
A1: [Some other Pokemon, assume "Burningmon"] because he is made of fire. Don't give him your stick though.
A2: Yeah, use a hanger not a stick... but don't touch the metal.