So I read a blog this morning and about threw up. It basically was a video of Brad Paisley prancing around in the rain ruining a bunch of beautiful guitars. Then I had a friend post a video on Facebook that displayed actual music (not to mention respect for 6 stringed instruments.) So I thought this would make a great death match. Though, I think I do a disservice to John Mayer's music for pitting him against something so beneath him. Please hang on while musical snobbery takes over and I briefly explain the difference in complexity between a typical country song and that of a life long lover of the guitar, singer, and songwriter. Is this blog about Brad Paisley vs. John Mayer? No, truthfully, if I was told I could go out and have supper with one of the two and music was off the table as topic of conversation, I would pick Brad Paisley in a heartbeat. Is this a gleaming example of why country music is sub-par to...well...almost everything else (with the exception of...maybe...worship music :) Oh, and rap doesn't really even count as music. I actually heard a country song the other day where the girl singing rapped a bit. I never thought you could mix the two, but it's true what they say. When you mix country and rap you really do get crap. The following is not meant to offend, but to educate.
Water by Brad Paisley:
Neon by John Mayer:
See? That's what I mean.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Death Match
Before I begin I must say that next week's Death Match is going to be one for the ages. Just think...I will have worked on it for a whole week. Until then, if you want to follow this blog, you will have to read the following rubbish.
Jacob vs. Edwin...er...Edward
Whether you're into the "Twilight" series or not, you have probably heard of the pop culture battle between the character of Jacob vs. the vampire Edward (still a character, not an actual vampire). Discussions on the topic plaster the Internet. In fact, YouTube is host to many humorous videos that hash out the finer details of the argument. If you're not familiar with this epic teen hocus pocus I'll quickly bring you up to speed and then reveal which team I'm on.
Jacob is an Indian from a tribe with a history of "shape-shifters" that turn into werewolves. These wolves protect their land and their people from vampire harm. The werewolves appear whenever vampires are present for extended periods of time. Jacob is one of these shape-shifters. He spends most of every movie with his shirt off. He is built a little bit like a tank. He rides motorcycles and does other faux bad boy things.
In real life Jacob is Taylor Lautner. He dated Taylor Swift and hosted SNL where he did a lot of jumping around showing off his karate skillz. His karate skillz are top level as he was actually trained by the blue power ranger (I'm not kidding).
Overall Jacob is as cool a character as any teen novel personality can be. It's not saying much, but you get the picture.
Edward is a pretty boy vampire. The problem with Edward is that, while vampires are supposed to be cool and uber dangerous, Edward is sort of a wiener. I suppose I can respect that he is the "old fashioned" sort who does everything right. He is of the finer class. He plays the piano and is super duper intelligent. Where he loses credibility is the fact that his character is made out to be above perfection. He is scrawny and pale, cold, and...the worst part...prepare yourself...he glistens in the sun. Yes, that's right, he glistens. I mean that's what girls call their sweat. The sun hits him and his skin lights up like a Christmas tree. Ed also carries around this discontented glare throughout the movies as well. He is a real bummer of person who never laughs, looks happy, or even so much as smiles throughout. He may be a vampire, but the more I get to know him, the more I'm sure I could take him one on one. After all...he glistens.
In real life he's just as odd. He is an actor, producer, and model. He has been quoted as having said he hopes to one day start his own religion because it would be cool to have followers. I'm sure in real life he glistens too.
So...now to reveal the winner of the Death Match...
(Ashley Greene)
Go Team Alice!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Death Match
Fiction vs. Non-Fiction
Fiction is not true, non-fiction is true. Fiction can be fantastical and therefor really fun and exhilarating. However, the right non-fiction story can leave you speechless and astounded. This is a tough one. There is a book called "Death in the Long Grass." I read it once when I was younger. I think my parents had it. It is non-fiction and it is about the different animals of Africa. It is written by a professional hunting guide who would take rich people from America out on safari hunts for wild game. It covers stories of man-eating lions, hippos, and the like. It is absolutely fascinating. On the other hand I remember reading Jurassic Park until the wee hours of the morning, falling asleep, dreaming about it, then waking up in the middle of the night to continue reading because I was so wrapped up in it.
In the end it is a tie. Find a good book and go read it. Do yourself a favor though, if you choose non-fiction, choose a story or a biography. Avoid the how to live life better books that plaster Christian bookstore shelves. Just this time around. They have their place and there are certain authors such as C.S. Lewis and Dietrich Bonhoeffer who are always worth reading, but this time I suggest avoiding theology altogether. If you must, just read the actual Bible. It will be FAR better for you in the long run.
OH THE BIBLE!!!! NON-FICTION!!!! I guess non-fiction wins by default.
Post the name of the book YOU will be reading next.
Post the name of the book YOU will be reading next.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
An impressive athletic debut
Ever since this kid named Stephen Strasburg had 14 strikeouts and got the win in his major league pitching debut I've been thinking about athletes who have made an instant impression on their sport. It reminded me of the following story, which may be the single most impressive athletic debut in the history of football.
It was the fall of 1977, and a junior at Muscatine High School was about to make his first start at quarterback for the varsity football team. His name: Mark Rohde (that would be our dad).
Dad's favorite play to run was something known as a "pop-pass." When the offense runs a pop-pass, the quarterback takes the snap and immediately dumps a pass over the middle to his tight end who is running a quick slant pattern. Unfortunately for my dad (and the entire Muscatine Muskies football team), things didn't go quite as planned.
The pop-pass was called. Dad took the snap from the center, stood up, and dumped the pass right to where the tight end was supposed to be. But the tight end wasn't there. He had been knocked on his butt by the defensive end. Instead, dad's pass went right into the arms of the linebacker, who returned the pass for a touchdown the other way.
But that, of course, is not the end of the story. Throwing an interception that's returned for a touchdown doesn't make for a great debut, but it's certainly not one of history's most impressive.
A short time later, when the Muskies were back on offense, the play was called again. Again the tight end got knocked on his butt. Again dad fired the pass to what would have been the right place. Again the linebacker caught it, and again he ran it back for a touchdown. Ok, so TWO interceptions returned for touchdowns.
Then it happened again. Exact same play. Exact same outcome. The Muskies were down by three touchdowns, and it was still the first half.
But we're not done yet.
After the third interception return for a touchdown the Muscatine coach thought he better take his young starter out of the game. So he did. Smart move? Perhaps.
Time was winding down in the 1st half, and Muscatine desperately needed to get on the board. So they called a half-back pass play. This is where the running back gets the ball as if it's a run play, but then he stops and makes a throw downfield where, hopefully, the defense has abandoned the receiver because they thought they needed to go after the running back. But with a half-back pass, you usually need a running back who has some ability to throw the football. So the coach put dad in at the running back position.
The quarterback took the snap and pitched it back to dad, who stopped and made his throw downfield. The throw got intercepted. And returned it for a touchdown.
At halftime the score stood Muskies 0, Bad Guys 28. Dad likes to brag that in his first varsity start he threw four touchdown passes in the first half... and that's technically a true statement. Unfortunately, they were all to the other team. Woops.
Epilogue: Believe it or not, dad went on to be a fairly successful high school quarterback. His senior year he led the Muskies to a winning record -- something they wouldn't achieve again for almost 20 years.
It was the fall of 1977, and a junior at Muscatine High School was about to make his first start at quarterback for the varsity football team. His name: Mark Rohde (that would be our dad).
Dad's favorite play to run was something known as a "pop-pass." When the offense runs a pop-pass, the quarterback takes the snap and immediately dumps a pass over the middle to his tight end who is running a quick slant pattern. Unfortunately for my dad (and the entire Muscatine Muskies football team), things didn't go quite as planned.
The pop-pass was called. Dad took the snap from the center, stood up, and dumped the pass right to where the tight end was supposed to be. But the tight end wasn't there. He had been knocked on his butt by the defensive end. Instead, dad's pass went right into the arms of the linebacker, who returned the pass for a touchdown the other way.
But that, of course, is not the end of the story. Throwing an interception that's returned for a touchdown doesn't make for a great debut, but it's certainly not one of history's most impressive.
A short time later, when the Muskies were back on offense, the play was called again. Again the tight end got knocked on his butt. Again dad fired the pass to what would have been the right place. Again the linebacker caught it, and again he ran it back for a touchdown. Ok, so TWO interceptions returned for touchdowns.
Then it happened again. Exact same play. Exact same outcome. The Muskies were down by three touchdowns, and it was still the first half.
But we're not done yet.
After the third interception return for a touchdown the Muscatine coach thought he better take his young starter out of the game. So he did. Smart move? Perhaps.
Time was winding down in the 1st half, and Muscatine desperately needed to get on the board. So they called a half-back pass play. This is where the running back gets the ball as if it's a run play, but then he stops and makes a throw downfield where, hopefully, the defense has abandoned the receiver because they thought they needed to go after the running back. But with a half-back pass, you usually need a running back who has some ability to throw the football. So the coach put dad in at the running back position.
The quarterback took the snap and pitched it back to dad, who stopped and made his throw downfield. The throw got intercepted. And returned it for a touchdown.
At halftime the score stood Muskies 0, Bad Guys 28. Dad likes to brag that in his first varsity start he threw four touchdown passes in the first half... and that's technically a true statement. Unfortunately, they were all to the other team. Woops.
Epilogue: Believe it or not, dad went on to be a fairly successful high school quarterback. His senior year he led the Muskies to a winning record -- something they wouldn't achieve again for almost 20 years.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Death Match
This week's death match is a little unconventional, but seeing as this is only the second death match ever, that is a rather funny statement. It is MY column so I can do what I want.
A couple weeks ago I was called up by my brother who said something like, "Nobody really posts on this blog so I think that we should each have a column to write." We quickly decided that I would pit two things against each other and say why one is better than the other.
SO...
This week's death match is
JOEL VS. JAKE AND JASE
Joel follows through, and they don't. The End.
A couple weeks ago I was called up by my brother who said something like, "Nobody really posts on this blog so I think that we should each have a column to write." We quickly decided that I would pit two things against each other and say why one is better than the other.
SO...
This week's death match is
JOEL VS. JAKE AND JASE
Joel follows through, and they don't. The End.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Death Match
I've been thinking a lot lately about how I might go about writing a death match blog. There is an endless list of things that are better than other things and I have an opinion on most of them. How do I write about such things? Perhaps I could put these opposing things into a hypothetical boxing ring and, using a giant heap of personification, let them go at it as if they were fighting. That would be fun for all of about one post. After that it would be a lot of work and probably quite redundant.
Another way I could do this is by making a story of good and evil out of these two things. Think Jedi vs. Sith meets Harry Potter vs. Twilight. This actually could be entertaining, but quite lengthy. Maybe one day I will find a topic so interesting it could lead to a novel in such a form.
What I have chosen to do is decide on the fly how I shall present my opinion. Possible I will use both the above approaches to share my musings, but I will not box myself in.
So without further ado...this week's death match.
Mac vs. P.C.
I like computers. I like using computers for a lot of different things. I love the internet and what it can do for us. I like designing graphics and web-pages. I like playing games and communicating with friends. With computers, there is an endless list of things that can be done. In the last decade a battle of epic proportions has broken out in the computer world between the P.C. (Personal Computer) and it's nemesis the Apple or "Mac". Let's look at both of these computer's very briefly and then I'll tell you why Mac is the obvious choice.
The P.C. is a nice computer. You can get it from a whole bunch of independent companies. A few of the ones you may have heard about are Dell, H.P., Gateway, and Asus, but the list goes on forever. In fact, you can even build your own P.C. For the most part, P.C.'s use an operating system called Windows by a company called Microsoft. This is the main difference between the P.C. and the Mac. The big advantage to using Windows and other Microsoft programs are that you can put almost anything on your computer and open almost any type of document as well as share your stuff with the world. It is a very open system that runs on universal language and can be accessed by virtually everyone. This greatest strength, however, is also it's greatest fault. This ease of access has made Windows a rather standard choice for most businesses and other places that run on vast networks where sharing things on the fly is key. This means that the market has been flooded with less than decent systems such as Dell and HP where they mass produce a fast food version of a computer and send it your way as soon as you call. They are tested to be precise. Their parts breakdown (and this is 100% true) as soon as your warranty runs out, you will be forced to either replace your computer or have it fixed, thus pouring more money into a cheap product. Windows is also a target for virus creators because of the way people constantly share stuff with each other. It is just too easy to infect the world on a P.C.
Mac computers, on the other hand, are very particular in what can and can't be used on them. There are many programs that can not be used on a Mac because Mac didn't want their germs in a manner of speaking. If you can buy the same program for Mac, you will probably have to pay more for it because it had to be written specifically for Mac. This is a real bummer. BUT your Mac will probably not get infected with a virus and cause you to lose all of your stuff.
Another great thing about Mac is it is just a higher quality machine. You pay for it up front, but you don't lose time and money down the road replacing parts.
Finally, the Mac has created ways it's core programs called iLife programs work together seamlessly so that you can send your photos to iPhoto, make a slideshow, export it to iMovie to add transitions and effects, put three slideshows together into one movie, then export the movie to iDVD where you can create menus and burn it to a disc to be played in your DVD player. All of this can be done within minutes. Windows can't come up with anything like that.
In the end they both have their advantages, but because Mac is the computer of the future, it drops a roundhouse kick to the chip and beats P.C.
Wow. This was a boring post. It will be better next week.
Another way I could do this is by making a story of good and evil out of these two things. Think Jedi vs. Sith meets Harry Potter vs. Twilight. This actually could be entertaining, but quite lengthy. Maybe one day I will find a topic so interesting it could lead to a novel in such a form.
What I have chosen to do is decide on the fly how I shall present my opinion. Possible I will use both the above approaches to share my musings, but I will not box myself in.
So without further ado...this week's death match.
Mac vs. P.C.
I like computers. I like using computers for a lot of different things. I love the internet and what it can do for us. I like designing graphics and web-pages. I like playing games and communicating with friends. With computers, there is an endless list of things that can be done. In the last decade a battle of epic proportions has broken out in the computer world between the P.C. (Personal Computer) and it's nemesis the Apple or "Mac". Let's look at both of these computer's very briefly and then I'll tell you why Mac is the obvious choice.
The P.C. is a nice computer. You can get it from a whole bunch of independent companies. A few of the ones you may have heard about are Dell, H.P., Gateway, and Asus, but the list goes on forever. In fact, you can even build your own P.C. For the most part, P.C.'s use an operating system called Windows by a company called Microsoft. This is the main difference between the P.C. and the Mac. The big advantage to using Windows and other Microsoft programs are that you can put almost anything on your computer and open almost any type of document as well as share your stuff with the world. It is a very open system that runs on universal language and can be accessed by virtually everyone. This greatest strength, however, is also it's greatest fault. This ease of access has made Windows a rather standard choice for most businesses and other places that run on vast networks where sharing things on the fly is key. This means that the market has been flooded with less than decent systems such as Dell and HP where they mass produce a fast food version of a computer and send it your way as soon as you call. They are tested to be precise. Their parts breakdown (and this is 100% true) as soon as your warranty runs out, you will be forced to either replace your computer or have it fixed, thus pouring more money into a cheap product. Windows is also a target for virus creators because of the way people constantly share stuff with each other. It is just too easy to infect the world on a P.C.
Mac computers, on the other hand, are very particular in what can and can't be used on them. There are many programs that can not be used on a Mac because Mac didn't want their germs in a manner of speaking. If you can buy the same program for Mac, you will probably have to pay more for it because it had to be written specifically for Mac. This is a real bummer. BUT your Mac will probably not get infected with a virus and cause you to lose all of your stuff.
Another great thing about Mac is it is just a higher quality machine. You pay for it up front, but you don't lose time and money down the road replacing parts.
Finally, the Mac has created ways it's core programs called iLife programs work together seamlessly so that you can send your photos to iPhoto, make a slideshow, export it to iMovie to add transitions and effects, put three slideshows together into one movie, then export the movie to iDVD where you can create menus and burn it to a disc to be played in your DVD player. All of this can be done within minutes. Windows can't come up with anything like that.
In the end they both have their advantages, but because Mac is the computer of the future, it drops a roundhouse kick to the chip and beats P.C.
Wow. This was a boring post. It will be better next week.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
New Poll
A new poll has been added! By mom's request the question is, "Which Rohde Brother loves mom the most?"
Obviously, this poll won't reveal anything new. I mean, everyone knows that I love mom the most, but I will probably not win the poll.
You have almost three weeks to vote.
Obviously, this poll won't reveal anything new. I mean, everyone knows that I love mom the most, but I will probably not win the poll.
You have almost three weeks to vote.
Punishment
This post is, in part, about spankings. Please know that all four of us Rohde Boys firmly believe we have the greatest parents ever and just about the healthiest possible upbringing. I am not trying to give the impression that my folks were vicious or violent or even that they enjoyed punishing us. Only that they did punish us (almost always deservedly so), and there are some humorous memories that came from it.
When we were little, I think that one of the many good nicknames for mom would have been "The Punisher." Some people say you should never spank your children because you'll squelch their personality. Well, as Mark Lowry once said, "I'm here to tell you Momma squelched my personality all over the house!" When mom was the one doing the spanking, she came at us with a belt. And she made it clear that she'd aim for our butts, but anything we put in the way was going to get it. If we wouldn't turn around, or if we put our hands back there as protection they would get hit (and getting smacked with a belt in the hands hurts a HECKUVALOT worse than getting hit with one in the butt). It was painful. It was punishment. And it made us sorry for what we'd done and try not to ever do it again.
A good nickname for dad probably would have been "Good Try Guy." He was kind of a softie. He spanked with his hand (which doesn't hurt nearly as much as a belt). He was trying to punish us, but he was probably afraid that with his size and his strength, if he really unloaded on us we'd fly through a wall (which may have been true). So he held up a little on his spankings. I remember one time trying not to laugh through one of dad's spankings.
Another punishment that was "inflicted" on more than one occasion came when Joel and I got into a fight. Mom would make us stand in the middle of the living room and hug. We were required to stand there and hug for 10 minutes. For me, this was torture. Probably a worse punishment than spankings or dish soap-eating. For Joel, however, it was (or at least it appeared to be) some kind of reward. I think he enjoyed it. Before long he'd be making jokes and singing and a whole bunch of other things that were incredibly annoying for someone who was fuming mad at him.
Brothers, any other punishment stories/methods come to mind? Readers, what about you? How did/do your parents punish you?
Friday, May 14, 2010
Poll results: Mom's favorite
The poll to the right has been closed for awhile now, but I've failed to give you a "and the winner is..." post until now. Sorry!
The question: Which Rohde Brother is Mom's Favorite?
In fourth place was Jaron with 2 votes (11%).
Tied for second place were Joel and Jake, each receiving 4 votes (23%).
And the big winner was Jase, who pulled in a whopping 7 votes (41%).
(If anyone's wondering where the other 2% of votes went, so am I.)
We all know that these poll results don't mean anything, but I would especially like to point out the drastic misunderstanding that you all seem to have. When the Rohde family gets together it is quite clear that Jaron is mom's favorite (I'm saying this mostly because I know it'll get a rise out of you, mom). Yet only 2 of you voted for him.
Anyway, there is no new poll posted at this point, because I couldn't come up with anything good to ask you all. If you comment on this post with suggestions for poll ideas, maybe I'll put a new one up there!
The question: Which Rohde Brother is Mom's Favorite?
In fourth place was Jaron with 2 votes (11%).
Tied for second place were Joel and Jake, each receiving 4 votes (23%).
And the big winner was Jase, who pulled in a whopping 7 votes (41%).
(If anyone's wondering where the other 2% of votes went, so am I.)
We all know that these poll results don't mean anything, but I would especially like to point out the drastic misunderstanding that you all seem to have. When the Rohde family gets together it is quite clear that Jaron is mom's favorite (I'm saying this mostly because I know it'll get a rise out of you, mom). Yet only 2 of you voted for him.
Anyway, there is no new poll posted at this point, because I couldn't come up with anything good to ask you all. If you comment on this post with suggestions for poll ideas, maybe I'll put a new one up there!
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
Lyrics
When we were young mom was never at a loss for a song to sing. Often these songs were packed with silly and fun lyrics. I can't remember most of the lyrics to these songs and I would like have them so I can teach Gabriel. Can you all help me out on the lyrics to songs like Mr. and Mrs. Johnny Quebec and the donuts store one and others like it.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Washing dishes
Our family never owned a dishwasher. Unless you count my brothers and I.
Nobody wanted to get stuck with the big pots and pans. They were a huge pain. We'd all rather wash twenty bowls, cups and plates than get stuck washing a single dirty pot. And so, if you were first or second in "line" to do dishes, you could control your own destiny. You would wash all of the bowls and plates and cups, and make sure that there were fewer than 15 dishes left in the sink when you were finished, so that there would be no way that your turn could come around again before all the dishes were done.
We hated doing dishes. It's not like we had a lot of chores to do, but washing the dishes was one of them, and we hated it. Since there were four of us and we wanted to be fair, the rule was that everyone would wash 5 dishes and then call in the next brother for his turn. Four pieces of silverware were equal to one regular dish. If there were big pots and pans, those often counted as two dishes.
Nobody wanted to get stuck with the big pots and pans. They were a huge pain. We'd all rather wash twenty bowls, cups and plates than get stuck washing a single dirty pot. And so, if you were first or second in "line" to do dishes, you could control your own destiny. You would wash all of the bowls and plates and cups, and make sure that there were fewer than 15 dishes left in the sink when you were finished, so that there would be no way that your turn could come around again before all the dishes were done.
Jaron was the pickiest of us all. If his turn came around and there were only 1 or 2 plates and cups, and the rest of the dishes were big pots, he'd be furious. And so, he'd scour the house looking for more dishes he could wash so that his turn would be over. He would often come into the living room and find someone who still had a glass of juice, or some leftover dish from dinner, and ask if that person was finished with their dish. If they weren't, he would wait 'em out. I wouldn't be surprised if Jaron stashed extra bowls in his bedroom for occasions such as these. I'm not sure that kid ever washed a big pot. Stubborn and lazy? or creative genius? You tell me.
Monday, April 19, 2010
A Poem
For my poetry class, we are supposed to write a poem about a place we knew when we were growing up. After writing the poem, I felt that it would fit nicely into this blog as well. So here it is!
The World Behind 916 West Third Street
From the back door to the train tracks
And fence to fence the other way
That patch of land was whatever we wanted it to be
Whatever would let us play whatever we wanted
Whenever we wanted to play
Sometimes it was a driving range
Hitting the dirty golf balls we could steal from Dad's bag
With the club we stole from Dad's bag
Hoping the farmer who owned the field
Didn't mind the balls too much.
Sometimes it was the perfect space we needed
To let out all the string on our 99 cent kite
Then to tie on the extra string and let it out too
Until the kite was like an inverse star
Black against the white sky
Sometimes it was Candlestick Park
The perfect backdrop for our baseball games
Where we could count hitting it to the field as a homerun
Or where our only bases were the tree and the shed
So we would run back and forth until the ball was retrieved
When there was corn in the field it had different uses
We could pee wherever we wanted without anyone seeing
My brothers could scare me with tales of murderers in the corn
We could test the knowledge that it's easy to get lost out there
Or we could jump on the trampoline to try and see the train
When there were beans in the field you couldn't do that
Every other year would disappoint with the beans
The beans that only changed the field enough
So that we could no longer find the white balls we hit
And baseballs were basically done for if they went in
From the back door to the train tracks
And fence to fence the other way
We ruled that land
It was ours
And it was whatever we told it to be
And fence to fence the other way
That patch of land was whatever we wanted it to be
Whatever would let us play whatever we wanted
Whenever we wanted to play
Sometimes it was a driving range
Hitting the dirty golf balls we could steal from Dad's bag
With the club we stole from Dad's bag
Hoping the farmer who owned the field
Didn't mind the balls too much.
Sometimes it was the perfect space we needed
To let out all the string on our 99 cent kite
Then to tie on the extra string and let it out too
Until the kite was like an inverse star
Black against the white sky
Sometimes it was Candlestick Park
The perfect backdrop for our baseball games
Where we could count hitting it to the field as a homerun
Or where our only bases were the tree and the shed
So we would run back and forth until the ball was retrieved
When there was corn in the field it had different uses
We could pee wherever we wanted without anyone seeing
My brothers could scare me with tales of murderers in the corn
We could test the knowledge that it's easy to get lost out there
Or we could jump on the trampoline to try and see the train
When there were beans in the field you couldn't do that
Every other year would disappoint with the beans
The beans that only changed the field enough
So that we could no longer find the white balls we hit
And baseballs were basically done for if they went in
From the back door to the train tracks
And fence to fence the other way
We ruled that land
It was ours
And it was whatever we told it to be
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Poll #2: Survivor
Thanks to everyone who voted in the second poll, "If your plane crash landed on a deserted island, which Rohde brother would best help you to survive?"
Here are the results:
Coming in dead last was yours truly with only 2 votes, or 8% of the vote (apparently, I'm not much of a survivor man).
Tied for second place were Joel and Jase, each receiving just 3 votes (13% apiece).
Winning this poll quite handily was the handiest Rohde brother, Jaron, with a whopping 15 votes (65%).
There's a new poll up. Read it. Contemplate it. Vote in it.
Thanks.
Here are the results:
Coming in dead last was yours truly with only 2 votes, or 8% of the vote (apparently, I'm not much of a survivor man).
Tied for second place were Joel and Jase, each receiving just 3 votes (13% apiece).
Winning this poll quite handily was the handiest Rohde brother, Jaron, with a whopping 15 votes (65%).
There's a new poll up. Read it. Contemplate it. Vote in it.
Thanks.
Friday, April 9, 2010
The Fabled "Brother Smother"
It is an elusive beast. Only a few humans in the history of mankind have ever seen it in its entirety. While many have seen lesser versions, involving two brothers, I am only aware of two people who have felt this phenomenon from the complete collection of all four. I am, of course, talking about the "Brother Smother". While most think the Four Rohde Smother only exists in fiction, I assure you, it has happened. Correct me brothers if I'm wrong, but I believe Pastor Dan Schoepf of Muscatine, IA and Mother Lisa Rohde of Santa Maria, CA are the only two humans to ever have experienced the Four Rohde Smother (Brian Rohde was also involved in the Lisa Rohde incident). Rather than explain this complicated occurrence, I will merely post a photo. This photo is not for the faint of heart. Parents, shield your children's eyes. They may not be ready for the sheer power this photo represents.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
It wasn't me! It was JOEL!
(I've got plenty of post ideas, and even though I don't want to "hog the blog," I'll do it if nobody else wants to write anything!)
My most embarrassing moment came in band class my junior year. I'd been playing the tuba for about one semester. I'd come a long way in that semester, but I wasn't great. And I was the only tuba player in the band, so I needed some backup.
That's where Joel came in. Joel is sort of a musically-inclined guy. He can play the piano, guitar, drums, trombone, didgeridoo, Peter Pan pipe, spoons, and even hacky sack. And during the second semester of my junior year in high school, he learned the tuba. Our band director assigned him to play the tuba with me for a couple of songs because a) even though he'd never played the tuba before, our director knew he could pick it up quickly for just a couple songs, and b) I needed the help or no one would be able to hear the tuba part in the songs.
I tell you that to tell you this: we were sitting next to each other in band class. Our band director was sitting at the front of the room speaking to the class. There was no music being played. Until Joel decided to unleash that natural tuba within.
He farted. Loudly.
Before anyone could react Joel snapped a look in my direction and gasped as if to say, "Jake! I can't believe you just farted!" Everyone took his reaction to mean that I was the culprit (which, of course, I was not). Unfortunately, there was not a whole lot I could do to change the perception. It was too late to deny it. Joel's reaction said it all: I was guilty.
Everyone in the class giggled and pointed at me. I sat there and turned red. And vowed never to speak to my brother again. What a jerk.
*In case you're sitting there in suspense and wondering, I have, in fact, spoken to Joel since this incident... but only once or twice. Reluctantly.
My most embarrassing moment came in band class my junior year. I'd been playing the tuba for about one semester. I'd come a long way in that semester, but I wasn't great. And I was the only tuba player in the band, so I needed some backup.
That's where Joel came in. Joel is sort of a musically-inclined guy. He can play the piano, guitar, drums, trombone, didgeridoo, Peter Pan pipe, spoons, and even hacky sack. And during the second semester of my junior year in high school, he learned the tuba. Our band director assigned him to play the tuba with me for a couple of songs because a) even though he'd never played the tuba before, our director knew he could pick it up quickly for just a couple songs, and b) I needed the help or no one would be able to hear the tuba part in the songs.
I tell you that to tell you this: we were sitting next to each other in band class. Our band director was sitting at the front of the room speaking to the class. There was no music being played. Until Joel decided to unleash that natural tuba within.
He farted. Loudly.
Before anyone could react Joel snapped a look in my direction and gasped as if to say, "Jake! I can't believe you just farted!" Everyone took his reaction to mean that I was the culprit (which, of course, I was not). Unfortunately, there was not a whole lot I could do to change the perception. It was too late to deny it. Joel's reaction said it all: I was guilty.
Everyone in the class giggled and pointed at me. I sat there and turned red. And vowed never to speak to my brother again. What a jerk.
*In case you're sitting there in suspense and wondering, I have, in fact, spoken to Joel since this incident... but only once or twice. Reluctantly.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Bad Words
I was probably 10 years old. Joel and I shared a room at the time (actually, I think at the time we shared a home-made bed that was basically some planks of wood on stilts in the laundry room). I don't know where he had learned this, but one night while we were laying in bed and talking rather than falling asleep, he told me that bad words are only bad if you really mean them. Just like saying "God" isn't bad unless you're taking his name in vain, swear words don't mean anything unless you're yelling them at someone.
So, we laid there saying swear words for the next 15 minutes. Because we could. They weren't "bad" because we didn't mean them badly.
I wish I could reproduce the words here, for effect, but this isn't an "adults only" blog and I don't want to upset any parents (including my own). But yeah, I'm talking about those words. If you can think of a bad word, we were saying it that night. Over and over.
I felt like a little rebel. For maybe the first time in my life. Come to think of it, maybe the last time too?
So, we laid there saying swear words for the next 15 minutes. Because we could. They weren't "bad" because we didn't mean them badly.
I wish I could reproduce the words here, for effect, but this isn't an "adults only" blog and I don't want to upset any parents (including my own). But yeah, I'm talking about those words. If you can think of a bad word, we were saying it that night. Over and over.
I felt like a little rebel. For maybe the first time in my life. Come to think of it, maybe the last time too?
Friday, April 2, 2010
The Contest
Okay, so the contest that was mentioned HERE has been postponed due to lack of entries. I have had one participant and I wasn't going to participate since it is my contest, but I will have to now. Please read THIS and participate. The new dates will be pictures by midnight the 12th of April. Entries posted on April 14th, and results posted on the 19th. I really mulled over whether to extend the contest or just post the one persons pic, but I am REALLY hoping someone beats that person because their entry is...well...gross. Anyway, hope to receive lots of emails with pics of invisible screens soon.
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Poll results: Prettiest Eyes
Thanks to everyone who voted! Our poll, Which Rohde brother has the prettiest eyes? closed last night and here are the results:
Jase ran away with this one with 17 votes (39%)
Joel came in second with 11 votes (25%)
Jake placed third with 9 votes (20%)
Jaron came in fourth with 6 votes (13%)
Do you agree with these results? Leave us comments and defend your vote!
AND, there's a NEW poll up on our blog. If your plane crash landed on a deserted island, which Rohde brother would best help you to survive? You have two weeks to vote for this one!
Jase ran away with this one with 17 votes (39%)
Joel came in second with 11 votes (25%)
Jake placed third with 9 votes (20%)
Jaron came in fourth with 6 votes (13%)
Do you agree with these results? Leave us comments and defend your vote!
AND, there's a NEW poll up on our blog. If your plane crash landed on a deserted island, which Rohde brother would best help you to survive? You have two weeks to vote for this one!
The Games We Played
My brothers and I were pretty creative growing up. We came up with a lot of games that we could play with just the four of us and were experts at entertaining ourselves. Sometimes, our incredible mother would join in the fun as well. I would like to highlight two of the games we played growing up.
RODEO (Rohdeo)
In this game, the goal was basically to have one person who was the "Bull" and the rest of us would be the rodeo clowns. This was a game played indoors, and we only played it when we were younger. Basically, the "Bull" had to stay on his hands and knees. The rest of us would run around the room trying to stay away from the bull. If the bull tackled you, you became the bull. It was basically like tag, except that we got to tackle each other. The way the game generally ended up going was that Joel, Jake and Jaron would play and kind of leave me running around until they got tired, then they would tackle me so they could have a break. The reason for this is that for a long time I was the smallest, and therefore unable to tackle them. By the time I was bigger than them, I was too slow to catch them. That's pretty much how it went with any game.
THE GAME WE NEVER NAMED BUT INVOLVED RIDING OUR BIKES ALL OVER TOWN
I'm not sure if Joel and Jake ever took part in this game. I think they had friends by the time we made this game up. Anywho, in this game, mom would drive around town and pick out 5 or 6 houses and write down things about them such as what color the shutters were, what lawn ornaments there were, how many windows were in the front, etc. She would then come back and give Jaron and I the list and we would have to ride our bikes around town to try and find them. It was brilliant on her part, because about twenty minutes of her time kept us busy for hours so she could get things done with us out of the house. Brilliant.
Those are two of the many games we played. What games did you play growing up? Please Share.
RODEO (Rohdeo)
In this game, the goal was basically to have one person who was the "Bull" and the rest of us would be the rodeo clowns. This was a game played indoors, and we only played it when we were younger. Basically, the "Bull" had to stay on his hands and knees. The rest of us would run around the room trying to stay away from the bull. If the bull tackled you, you became the bull. It was basically like tag, except that we got to tackle each other. The way the game generally ended up going was that Joel, Jake and Jaron would play and kind of leave me running around until they got tired, then they would tackle me so they could have a break. The reason for this is that for a long time I was the smallest, and therefore unable to tackle them. By the time I was bigger than them, I was too slow to catch them. That's pretty much how it went with any game.
THE GAME WE NEVER NAMED BUT INVOLVED RIDING OUR BIKES ALL OVER TOWN
I'm not sure if Joel and Jake ever took part in this game. I think they had friends by the time we made this game up. Anywho, in this game, mom would drive around town and pick out 5 or 6 houses and write down things about them such as what color the shutters were, what lawn ornaments there were, how many windows were in the front, etc. She would then come back and give Jaron and I the list and we would have to ride our bikes around town to try and find them. It was brilliant on her part, because about twenty minutes of her time kept us busy for hours so she could get things done with us out of the house. Brilliant.
Those are two of the many games we played. What games did you play growing up? Please Share.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Have you voted yet?
If you haven't yet voted in our poll ("Which of the Rohde brothers has the prettiest eyes?") to the right, you have until the end of Wednesday to do so (and I'm pretty sure that's local time... so if you're in California you might only have until about 11 o'clock on Wednesday night). After the poll closes I'll post the results and put a new poll up for you to consider.
If you have good poll ideas, we're totally open to hearing them!
If you have good poll ideas, we're totally open to hearing them!
Friday, March 26, 2010
The Day Jase Tried to Murder Me
It was June17th, 1994. The day was an average Iowa summer day, 88 degrees and muggy. The four of us took a stroll down to the creek about a mile away from our country home...dun dun dun!!! Little did Joel, Jake, or I know Jase was maliciously scheming to take down the strongest, smartest, fastest, "Gaston" if you will, of the family.
It all started as a simple game of skipping stones. We all took turns seeing who could get the most skips out of a solitary stone. Harmlessly we all took turns hurling smooth, flat rocks at the waters surface. As Joel crept down stream looking for better stones Jase realized his opportunity.
He swiftly picked up a large stone and launched it in the direction of the creek. Coincidently, I happened to be bending over to pick up the perfect skipping stone between Jase and the creek. Jase timed it so the 13.643 lb. stone would strike me directly in the back of my head as I stood up.
Jase, however, failed to calculate the sheer muscle I have in my head...yes I bled but it was a small cut and it didn't hurt. Jake and I took off across the fields. We made it back to the house in three minutes.
We had to protect mom.
While We're on the Subject
So one time the four Rohde brothers were playing a game we called QuickTurn while dad was playing softball. It involved a slide, a softball, and dandelions. When it was Jaron's turn to roll the softball (part of the game) Jase was supposed to slide down the slide. Jase was wearing shorts and the sun had been out all day. It was an aluminum slide and had been baking. Jase sat down, then jumped up, then tripped and literally rolled down the slide head first. When he got to the bottom he just laid there as a pool of blood formed around his head. The other three of us just looked at each other. Lucky for us the ball field was just a few yards away and dad was fortunately in the outfield again. We yelled for him and he turned and saw Jase. He yelled, "Jase get up!" Then he noticed that Jase was dying. "Jase, get up!" he yelled. Then he said to the other three of us, "He'll just have to wait for the end of the inning. I'm sick and tired of his constant bleeding and dying and stuff." So we went back to playing, ignoring Jase, and playing around him. 10 minutes later Dad came out of the dugout and started walking toward us. Just then, the batter hit a foul ball that landed right on top of Jase's head. Jase immediately popped up like nothing happened and casually wiped the blood off his face. Dad was royally ticked off. To this day I haven't heard my dad curse. That day, he came closer than he ever had. After the game dad took us to Whitey's for ice cream and Jase didn't get any because he had faked death.
And then I found 20 dollars.
And then I found 20 dollars.
The day Jase almost died
Jase's post yesterday made me think of another story that happened while dad was playing softball.
During one of dad's church-league softball games when we were little the four of us were playing on some dirt piles a few hundred yards from the field. The dirt piles were the result of a big hole that had been dug that would eventually be used as the foundation for a new concession stand and bathroom facility. We ended up in a dirt-clod-throwing "game" (it was always a game until Jase -- I mean someone -- got hurt) with a kid we didn't know who was standing down in the hole. The dirt clods were, for the most part, just chunks of dirt that would break into dust if and when they hit you, so it was no big deal. At one point the kid in the hole threw one that was coming straight at my face. Since I have the reflexes of a jungle cat, I ducked. I turned around to see that the clod had hit Jase right in the head... and that this clod was apparently more of a rock covered in dirt that did NOT break into dust when it hit him. He started crying. I turned back to the kid that had thrown the rock. He had a horrified look on his face. I tried to reassure him that Jase would be fine. "Don't worry about it, he cries all the time," I said (which was true).
*The next sentence is a little gross, so if you have a weak stomach, skip down to the next italics.
I turned back to Jase to see blood like a geyser gushing from his head wound with every beat of his heart.
*If you skipped that sentence because you have a weak stomach, here's the jist: Jase was bleeding.
Joel grabbed Jase and I ran ahead toward the ball field to get dad's attention. Dad was playing left field, so we stood at the fence yelling his name (well, we were probably yelling "Dad!" which isn't his real name). He tried to wave us off (we knew we weren't supposed to bug him during the game unless it was an emergency), but then he glanced over and saw Jase. He did a double-take, yelled "Time out!" to his pitcher, and hurdled a 10-foot chain-link fence like it was 6 inches high (it was quite impressive), because we were all pretty sure that Jase was about to die before our very eyes.
Dad ended up borrowing an extra t-shirt from someone in the crowd (stealing is probably a better term, since I'm pretty sure they didn't want it back) and pressed it to Jase's head to stop the bleeding, which it did... eventually. It was a pretty heavy-duty head gash. Dad gave Jase the option of going to the hospital for stitches or driving out to camp where mom was working that day. Since our family's general rule is, "Who needs stitches? It'll eventually heal itself," Jase chose to go see mom.
Jase's head wound eventually healed (I think... can you confirm that, Jase?), and he didn't die that day. Mom made him feel better than stitches ever would have. And that's the end of my "the day Jase almost died" story.
During one of dad's church-league softball games when we were little the four of us were playing on some dirt piles a few hundred yards from the field. The dirt piles were the result of a big hole that had been dug that would eventually be used as the foundation for a new concession stand and bathroom facility. We ended up in a dirt-clod-throwing "game" (it was always a game until Jase -- I mean someone -- got hurt) with a kid we didn't know who was standing down in the hole. The dirt clods were, for the most part, just chunks of dirt that would break into dust if and when they hit you, so it was no big deal. At one point the kid in the hole threw one that was coming straight at my face. Since I have the reflexes of a jungle cat, I ducked. I turned around to see that the clod had hit Jase right in the head... and that this clod was apparently more of a rock covered in dirt that did NOT break into dust when it hit him. He started crying. I turned back to the kid that had thrown the rock. He had a horrified look on his face. I tried to reassure him that Jase would be fine. "Don't worry about it, he cries all the time," I said (which was true).
*The next sentence is a little gross, so if you have a weak stomach, skip down to the next italics.
I turned back to Jase to see blood like a geyser gushing from his head wound with every beat of his heart.
*If you skipped that sentence because you have a weak stomach, here's the jist: Jase was bleeding.
Joel grabbed Jase and I ran ahead toward the ball field to get dad's attention. Dad was playing left field, so we stood at the fence yelling his name (well, we were probably yelling "Dad!" which isn't his real name). He tried to wave us off (we knew we weren't supposed to bug him during the game unless it was an emergency), but then he glanced over and saw Jase. He did a double-take, yelled "Time out!" to his pitcher, and hurdled a 10-foot chain-link fence like it was 6 inches high (it was quite impressive), because we were all pretty sure that Jase was about to die before our very eyes.
Dad ended up borrowing an extra t-shirt from someone in the crowd (stealing is probably a better term, since I'm pretty sure they didn't want it back) and pressed it to Jase's head to stop the bleeding, which it did... eventually. It was a pretty heavy-duty head gash. Dad gave Jase the option of going to the hospital for stitches or driving out to camp where mom was working that day. Since our family's general rule is, "Who needs stitches? It'll eventually heal itself," Jase chose to go see mom.
Jase's head wound eventually healed (I think... can you confirm that, Jase?), and he didn't die that day. Mom made him feel better than stitches ever would have. And that's the end of my "the day Jase almost died" story.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Don't mess with a Rohde brother
I had a dream a few nights ago that was remarkably similar to an actual Rohde brother experience from many many years ago. In the dream my brothers and I were on a dock by the ocean. Some punk kid decided to push Jaron in, so I immediately pushed the kid in. At that point, the kids friend tried to push me in, but Joel and Jake stepped up and took care of him for me. The kid was out of friends, but I was not out of brothers. I tend to have vague dreams, so I don't really remember much else, but the actual experience is more interesting.
When we were kids our dad played slow pitch softball in a city league. At one of his games my brothers and I were playing on the playground in the park. One of the other kids on the playground who was Joel's age decided to pick a fight with Joel. He was promptly taken over by all four Rohde brothers. His dad was mad, but our dad said, "If you pick on one, you pick on them all." That's the cool part of having 3 brothers. If you pick on one, you pick on us all. Don't mess with the Rohdes.
When we were kids our dad played slow pitch softball in a city league. At one of his games my brothers and I were playing on the playground in the park. One of the other kids on the playground who was Joel's age decided to pick a fight with Joel. He was promptly taken over by all four Rohde brothers. His dad was mad, but our dad said, "If you pick on one, you pick on them all." That's the cool part of having 3 brothers. If you pick on one, you pick on us all. Don't mess with the Rohdes.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Contest
That's right. In honor of our new blog I thought I'd throw down a competition. I think it is important for friends to remain transparent with one another. I also think it is good for their computer screens to be transparent as well. That is why I would like to challenge the readers of this young blog to create the best transparent screen illusion.
To create a transparent screen:
1. Fold down your computer screen. (If you don't have a laptop, move your screen, but remember the angle and position that it was in.)
2. Take out your digital camera and take a picture of what is directly behind your screen. Try to zoom to the same relative size of your screen. It is also important to stay at the same angle you would look at your screen if it were there.
3. Put the picture on your computer.
4. Open up a picture editor of some sort and crop the picture. You are going to want the picture to look like it is framed by your screen, but shows what is directly behind it.
5. Save the picture and set it as your desktop background.
6. Take a picture of your screen with the illusion.
7. Send your picture to joel.rohde@gmail.com
All entries are due 1 week from today, Wednesday March 31st by 11:59 PM. Entries will be posted on April 1st (worry not, this is not an elaborate April fools joke). We will then have a 1 week voting period where readers will vote for their favorite. The winner will receive a regular sized candy bar of their choice, a free Christian music CD of MY choice and, the best prize of all, recognition as the first ever contest winner on our new blog.
Below is an example:
To create a transparent screen:
1. Fold down your computer screen. (If you don't have a laptop, move your screen, but remember the angle and position that it was in.)
2. Take out your digital camera and take a picture of what is directly behind your screen. Try to zoom to the same relative size of your screen. It is also important to stay at the same angle you would look at your screen if it were there.
3. Put the picture on your computer.
4. Open up a picture editor of some sort and crop the picture. You are going to want the picture to look like it is framed by your screen, but shows what is directly behind it.
5. Save the picture and set it as your desktop background.
6. Take a picture of your screen with the illusion.
7. Send your picture to joel.rohde@gmail.com
All entries are due 1 week from today, Wednesday March 31st by 11:59 PM. Entries will be posted on April 1st (worry not, this is not an elaborate April fools joke). We will then have a 1 week voting period where readers will vote for their favorite. The winner will receive a regular sized candy bar of their choice, a free Christian music CD of MY choice and, the best prize of all, recognition as the first ever contest winner on our new blog.
Below is an example:
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
The First Post
I'm guessing that as you read this blog you will discover rather quickly that our family isn't normal. We're weird, kooky, silly, serious (sometimes), and boisterous (that's a word I've been trying to use more frequently). But we're also fun. And funny. And we love each other. And not one of us likes the fact that we live far away from each other and don't get to be together very often.
If that first paragraph is news to you, then you must be one of the few people reading this who aren't related to or in close contact with the Rohde family. Welcome! Please peruse a little bit and leave us a lot of comments so that a) we know you're out there and b) we can interact! Blogging simply to have your own writing exist somewhere on the internet is stupid. There has to be some interaction from readers for it to be fun and not completely pointless.
So log in. Leave us comments. Vote in our polls on the left (they'll change periodically). Read our individual pages. Enjoy.
If that first paragraph is news to you, then you must be one of the few people reading this who aren't related to or in close contact with the Rohde family. Welcome! Please peruse a little bit and leave us a lot of comments so that a) we know you're out there and b) we can interact! Blogging simply to have your own writing exist somewhere on the internet is stupid. There has to be some interaction from readers for it to be fun and not completely pointless.
So log in. Leave us comments. Vote in our polls on the left (they'll change periodically). Read our individual pages. Enjoy.
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