An old friend

Sure passing through the different stages of my still-somewhat-brief life has meant giving up the freedom and innocence that childhood offers. But the exchange rate in the world of adulthood is one I have found worth the trade. Well, mostly worth the trade.

At this time of year, however, I am reminded of a sensation that goes nearly beyond the realm of words. A day that represented the doorway to a kingdom of sunscreen and the smell of chlorine: the last day of school. Whether it was elementary, high-school or college, that glorious moment in time brings with it a promise of hope that still puts a smile on my face.

In grown-up terms: It's like a Friday afternoon before a long three-day weekend. Except instead of three days, it's three glorious months of endless possibilities. Or at least it was for me. Sure there were weeds to pull, lawns to mow and fences to paint, but there were also late nights, tackle-football games, days at the beach and - as I got into high school - the prospect of meeting mysterious girls from other schools.

Every night on my drive home from the office, I pass by a small elementary school. Last week, I witnessed the kids storming out and plunging into the freedom of summertime. I couldn't help but remember. I remember finishing up that last final. Nearly coming unglued waiting for that bell to ring. Turning in text books. Signing yearbooks. Basking in the glow of climbing up one more ring in the social totem poll.

There's just a nostalgic-filtered magic I get when I think about those times. It's matchless and spectacular. And it put a smile on my heart to see those kids experiencing it with the same inexpressible glee.

Like I said, I really haven't minded growing up. But the times, places and people left behind still live in a treasured place that my heart loves to visit. I don't miss scantrons, report cards and homework. But I remember my old friend -- the summertime -- with fondness and wonder.

Lost

Tonight's season finale of Lost was incredible.

Funny Wedding Speech

Day on the Green

If you are free... I, along with a few of my chums, will be playing some music at a little event called "Day on the Green".

Krunch Time

Tonight Shelley and I hit the Tom Thumb for an emergency ice-cream pit-stop. I enjoy the supermarket, especially later in the evening when the shopping population has dwindled. One of my intellectual abnormalities is a fascination with product packaging (and product jingles . . . but that's not the topic of the moment).

The experience reminded me of something that has befuddled me since adolescence: the Blue Bell Ice Cream box. Who are these people? What was the art director thinking? What's the connection?

The mystery of it all was enough to make me pull out my camera phone and share some late-night thoughts . . .

We'll start with this blue collar, hard-hat-wearing hero. Can someone explain the excessive filth? Did this guy rub chocolate all over this face or does he just not regularly bathe before taking a perfect crescent moon shaped bite out of this Krunch Bar? And there's something a little creepy about the juxtaposition of his brillitant-white, perfect smile. Furthermore, why is this tough guy holding his Krunch bar like it's a little tea cup he uses when he plays with his dolls?

It's all enough to drive me crazy. Seriously... this guy haunts me at night.

Next we have a man that surely regrets ever having dreams of becoming a male model. His career peaked in the freezer isle. From the look in his face, one can apparently only enjoy the Mooo Bar while sitting atop something . . . pointy.

Wow. So many possible directions I could take this one . . . and all of them inappropriate.

Does anyone think this box actually helps the Blue Bell company move ice cream sandwhiches? Honestly, do you want that face staring back at you when you open your freezer? I feel like I should take the box to a priest and have it excorcised before it haunts me forever. "The Power of Christ compels you! The power of Christ compels you!" Yikes.

And finally... tell me this guy doesn't remind you of Christopher Meloni of Law & Order SVU fame . . . in a referee's outfit . . . holding a Great Divide Bar that looks like it's talking to him.

Ok. That's enough of Halloween night at the Blue Bell office for now.