A Few Anecdotes

It's been something like 49 weeks (or three weeks short of a full year) since anyone has posted anything here. I'm sure most of you have faithfully visited this blog twice daily since last August, always finding disappointment that no updates were to be found. So here's to you, dedicated reader!

Drugs
It was Red Ribbon Week at Wilton Elementary School. All week we were learning about the importance of saying "no" to drugs. When I came home from school wearing a red ribbon my mom asked, "Jacob, do you say 'no' to drugs?" To which I replied, "No drugs have asked me yet, mom."
(By the way, to this day no drugs have ever asked me a blasted thing. I went through D.A.R.E. for nothing.)

Mary and Joseph
A game show was playing on the TV and someone had just won a trip to some exotic destination. The screen showed the all-inclusive resort that was included in the trip, and curious little 3-year old Jase turned to mom and asked, "Why didn't Mary and Joseph stay there? They have LOTS of rooms!"

Driving (on accident)
It was a Sunday morning and the family was getting ready for church. I was probably 12 or 13 years old, and I was ready first. Jase was ready too, and the usual thing to do once you're ready to go is ot head out and wait in the car for everyone else. Jase and I did just that. I climbed into the driver's seat, just for the fun of it. But I didn't know anything about driving. I was just messing around when I happened to hit a lever by the steering wheel (the gear shift, it turns out). The car started moving backwards. I panicked. Jase bailed. Literally. He opened the car door and bolted, afraid he was about to get into some kind of collision and die. That didn't help me any. I was terrified, and alone in the car. After a few seconds I got the lever back into its original place and the car stopped moving. Everything was fine. Except Jase told on me and I got scolded.

Death Match

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.

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!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Of course, much of this didn't end up mattering for me very much. I didn't get in trouble that often (not to toot my own horn *toot toot*). I learned from watching my older, wiser, more mischievous brother who would get into trouble and in the process illustrate quite clearly the location of the "line" that wasn't to be crossed. Joel had to eat soap a lot growing up as punishment for talking back to mom and dad. I think he actually acquired a taste for it.


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?

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!

Remember widgets...good times I tell ya good times

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.

Washing dishes

Our family never owned a dishwasher. Unless you count my brothers and I.

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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!