What Time Does

It has been a while since I put a post onto this site. Which, in a way is the topic of this blog.
I recently bought a DVD recorder and started putting old movies onto DVD. Of course to do this I had to watch every second of my old home movies. I watched footage from before my son was born, from when I was "much younger", from when I first bought my house. Has that much time really gone by?
When I watch those movies it seem like I have traveled 5 years in the blink of an eye. I feel the same as I did then, but I am so different. When I watch those videos it feels as though it could have been yesterday just as easily as years ago. Then I hit the stop button and look around at my beautiful family, how they have grown. My son is now 2 and a 1/2 and I have a daughter that is 9 months, they are so big!! I look in the mirror and can't tell the difference between that guy and the guy in the videos. I look and feel the same. The only way I can tell five years have gone by is by what has been accomplished. The walls are painted, I have a new job, I graduated, my kids are talking and walking, two different cars are in the driveway, my bro is married, etc. etc.. The constant... My wife is still Smoking Hot!!! Stone cold fox, yeah!!

It scares me in a way. I often think about how my son is going to be grown and out of the house before I know it. I just think of myself at his age and how silly and naive I was, it wasn't that long ago. Here I am raising that same kid. I am at that age where I am still my Dad's son but I am my son's father at the same time. It is a little ironic hanging out with my dad and my son at the same time. I try and be old and mature with my son but at the same time my dad tries to instruct me as he did when I was 13 and we were in the garage working on the family car. I wouldn't trade any of those moments for the world though. It is so nice to see one generation of Hunts play with a far separated generation of the same name. With times help, one day, I will be there.

A Night at the Horse Shoe Bar

I set out to have somewhat of a typical night, in a rural Northern Michigan community called Marion. I knew it was going to be a good night, when it started out with a $12 prime rib in a smoke filled tavern called the Ideal, you can’t beat that.
My wife’s, sister in law and her boyfriend were the only ones not wearing camo gear of the 25 in the bar. I’m sure the crowd was filled with many hunters winding down from a long night of bow hunting. After my stomach was filled with meat and my lungs and hair filled with smoke, it was time to find a cozy establishment to watch the Tigers play their first game of the World Series. So we went to the only other bar in town, the Horse Shoe.
Little did I know the chairs there were just as uncomfortable as the ones at the Ideal.
Like any decent bar lined with thin wood paneling, two pool tables filled the rear back area. Before I could even sit down and get comfortable the Tigers were down by 5 runs, so like any good Tiger’s fan, I felt it was time to shoot pool. I took my future brother in law up on his offer to shoot pool, it was either that or a dance off. He hesitantly asked if I were any good, knowing how competitive he was I mildly said, “I’ve shot a little pool before.” In actuality I spend the last 3 and ½ years of my life avoiding work on the psych unit by shooting pool. The before mentioned future brother in law’s name is Joe. Joe’s first shot sent the cue ball and 2 other balls flying off the table. He’s lucky he didn’t hit one of the bearded hunters their or we may have been pulling mechanical snips out of our behinds. I spotted the two balls and proceeded to clear the table.. Joe had another two shots before the 8 ball was sunk and six of his solids were still sitting on the table. Every shot I took was advised by a toothless, 8 ½ fingered man that lurked over the table like a fat kid at a buffet. Not a shot went by that wasn’t coupled with, “aim for this, aim for that.” After my game was done with Joe, I approached what looked to be a 70 something man and asked if he’d care to shoot a game with me. The man agreed humbly saying, “son, I haven’t shot in years.” Before he broke the old man couldn’t help but comment on the karaoke singers that were shrieking songs from Johnny Cash and Lynard Skinard. “I’ve entertained for many years, there is one thing I know, you can’t piss in a Mr. Coffee and expect Taster’s Choice!” As random as the comment was, it gave me a chuckle and beared repeating to my wife. Though the man’s resting hand was handicapped with only three fingers, he was a worthy opponent. I felt the pressure as his granddaughter
(who had no business as young as she was being in a bar) was cheering him on franticly. I had one ball left to his two, the six ball against the far rail. He leaned over to me and with a gummy grin he said, “use the rail with right English.” I used the rail just enough to send the 6 off on a wild tangent and the eight ball directly in the corner. I lost. The old man looked like a pirate who just found a treasure chest with his squinty eyes, his toothless smile and a hand that might as well have been a hook.
I thought our relationship had reached a climax and an end. I was wrong. This man seemed to think I was interested in his life outside the horseshoe. I wanted to sit down with my friends and watch my wife sing Sweet Child O’ Mine on karaoke. This man felt it was necessary to tell me about all the cars and trucks he had bought and fixed up in the last half century. I heard about an 86, 88, 89, and 91 Ranger. A 92 Bronco, 78, 82, and countless other models of Cameros. None of which were the cool kind, early seventies models that looked a lot like a Nova or GTO.
I kicked my wife under the table in a “save me now” fashion. I guess she just thought I had a twitch because she didn’t bat and eye. So there I was, stuck, hopelessly surrounded by one man and his stories. I think I would have rather been on the Edmunds Fitzgerald in a thunder storm. Thankfully the man’s 8 year old daughter started nagging her dad to leave. Yes, I now had learned this young girl was his daughter! I have no idea how this girl was his daughter, he looked old enough to be her great grandfather and dirty enough to be her uncle that no one talks about. The man thanked me for the game and departed.
As much as I wanted to walk away in the middle of this old mans rant I am glad I listened. It has been about a month since that night and looking back, I probably made that old mans day by allowing him to talk about his car stories that he holds so dear. Here’s to you Mr. 8 ½.

Triumphant Return

Ok, I know I said I was done. I was, for a while. Now I am back. By popular demand I will set out to blog about stuff that is important to the common man. yammar really. Breif summary of want has transpired the past year. I have graduated from WMU, moved to Detroit, working with GlaxoSmithKline pharmaceuticals as a sales rep, become a tigers fan, joined the PS2 revolution, had a baby girl named Stella Beth, waged war against the distance between Detroit and Kalamazoo, now a transfer is in order and I will return to Kalamazoo. I look forward to reviving a sleeping giant.

Signing Off

OK, I have come to the conclusion that my blog sucks. Nobody reads it and nobody cares (with the exception of Dan). I can't even claim that I had a good run. I write to get my thoughts down in words, but I do want some kind of feedback, opions, following, etc.

So this is it for me, I am hanging it up. thanks to those of you who took a look. There will be no more new posts after this. If you want to hear my opinion go to Dan McCauley's blog, I post on there frequently. www.atthecornerbar.blogspot.com

Adios

MLK Day- Opportunity Over Outcome

I observed MLK day by going to a MLK celebration at Miller Auditorium at Western Michigan University. I have never been to an MLK celebration and I suppose I have taken MLK's teachings for granted for many years. This particular celebration reminded me that MLK did not just fight for blacks, but for equal rights for all. He did not take color, physical ability, gender, race, background into account when he made his "I have a dream speech". He simply stated "judged on content of their character, not the color of their skin". I could not agree more. Many more opportunities have opened up to people of a minority population, I am not talking about blacks alone, I am talking about people with disabilities, Chinese, Japanese, African, African-American, women, and white men in some situations. I don't care if you are purple, equality in opportunities must be stressed.

With all that being said I am discouraged when I hear some people stress outcomes not opportunities. Allow me to illustrate. I read some discouraging statistics in the MLK handout at the celebration, 1) There are more black men in prison than in college. 2) There are more black men in Jackson State Prison than in all of Michigan's colleges put together. 3) 70% of all black babies are born to single mothers. The list went on. I can't believe I saw such statistics printed at a MLK celebration. These are outcomes, not opportunities. MLK stressed EQUAL OPPORTUNITY for all, not equal outcomes for all. Stressing equal outcomes would be communistic. Lets examine these statistics in a factual sense 1) Equal opportunity to obey the law and enjoy the freedoms America offers within legal parameters. Outcome, people who break the law run the risk of having certain freedoms taken away, i.e. put in jail. 3) Equal opportunity to abstain from sex until marriage or use birth control. Outcome, pregnancy can only occur when a egg is fertilized, the act of sex greatly increases the chance of an egg coming into contact with sperm. More unprotected sex=more pregnancies.

My point, to truly celebrate MLK and the rights he fought for, we should focus on equal opportunities for all, not statistical outcomes. If we do focus on statistical outcomes, they do not truly show how a certain race is being cheated out of opportunities.

Very few people get success handed to them on a silver platter, no matter what color they are. It takes a lot of work to get what you want in the world today. I am not so blind to see that some people start further ahead than others just from the situation they are born into. That is out of any one's control other than the man and woman who make the baby.

I have plenty of friends of every ability and culture, some are smarter, funnier, taller, shorter, more confident, and shier than others. Non of them fit those adjectives simply because of the color of their skin. I don't look at a black man in jail and think he is their because he is black any more than I look at a black doctor and think he became a Dr. simply because of his skin (or despite his skin). They both reached an outcome by pursuing certain opportunities.

If we take care of insuring equal opportunities, it is every person's individual responsibility to take care of their outcome. I truly feel that a five year old white boy and a five year old Chinese boy and a five year old black boy can go into a public school and each receive the same opportunity to be educated. How much they learn is dependent on the individual. How much they learn is an outcome, that can not be controlled by any one but the individual as long as the opportunity is there.

Is there still discrimination in America? Yes, too much, any discrimination is too much. But there is a lot more paranoia about discrimination than actual acts of discrimination. Lets put a little more focus on equal opportunities and how we use opportunities than equal outcome.

Back to School

Back to school, back to school.
to show dad that I'm not a fool.

Got my lunch pack up,
my boots tied tight.
I hope I don't get in a fight.

Oh, back to school, back to school.
(Billy Madison)

That is how I feel right now. After the long Christmas break it is really hard for me to get motivated to go back for my last class. I have one more class and my thesis before I graduate with a Sport Management Masters. Which is strange becuase I really don't want to be a sports manager, just have the degree. Basically it is a resume builder to show I can learn.

I ask the fine people of 'For the Masses', why the heck do I have to spend 2 1/2 years in graduate school and spend close to $12,000, to prove I can learn? To have a peice of paper?

I think Leonardo's character in 'Catch Me If You Can' had the right idea. Give me the job and I will learn then. Basically I learned a bunch of general knowledge from college and when I get a job I have to learn a bunch of stuff that only pertains to that job. OK, so what do I do with the general knowledge? Put it on my resume of course.

OK gang, one more semester. Then it is off to bigger and better things. Unless I get a job before then. In that case getting my masters will just be a burden. I was getting the degree so I could get a new job, if I have the new job before I finish then where is the motivation? Just the same, I hope I get a new job before I graduate.
I will keep you folks posted (by "you folks" I mean RJ, Dan, and Kasey, the only people that read my blog).

If Businesses Were Run Like a College Basketball Program

Ok, a lot is said in the title, but allow me to explain.

I have been doing a lot of thinking about my career in the past few months. I have recognized that there are some fundamental flaws with the way 95% of American businesses are run. People wonder why the Japanese are kicking the Big 3's butts year in and year out. Mmmm, probably because they don't pay some turd $19 and hour to blow compressed air into water jackets of a big block as it rolls by on an assembly line. My point is, what ever happened to people being proud of their job, working hard because it is the right thing to do, leaving work with a sense of accomplishment, pushing yourself to the limits?

If American businesses were run like a college basketball program I guarantee we would not be in the economic bind we seem to be in right now (Michigan especially).

Lets compare the facts. I will use my job as an example of how the health care field is ran. I am assuming there are many other companies out there ran the same way.

If I show up late to work, I get a point, 7 points makes a step, 3 steps I'm fired.( I can show up late 21 times per year before I lose my job)
If Show up late to practice, I don't play the first half of a game. I don't know what would happen if I were to show up late consistently because it never happened more than once, with any players.

If I work really hard at work and help 10 more patients than the therapist next to me, I get nothing, no one knows if I don't tell them.
If I score ten more points in a game, we win. I become more valuable to the team, I get the ball more, I am trusted by teammates, I am recognized in the paper, classmates give me a pat the back, etc.

At work I get a yearly evaluation that takes about 10 minutes, if I meet my goals I get 2.5% raise. (are you fricking kidding me, that doesn't even keep up with the cost of inflation!)
On a college team I am evaluated everyday; practices are recorded, every drill is monitored, points are tallied, tests are taken, grades are given, playing time is issued according to performance and hardwork. The rewards are true motivation to try hard.

At work I compete against no one, as long as I don't punch a patient in the face or set the carpeting on fire, I have a job.
In college I had to prepare for the next opponent every day. Eat or be eaten. If you don't take your role seriously, someone else out there is, and he will kick your butt when you go head to head with him. I was in constant competition with my teammates to hold my starting position, if I take a day off or perform poorly for a few days, there is someone else that is chomping at the bit to take my place.

At work there is a 3 inch thick hand book on rules and regulations to hold people accountable. If there is not a section in that book about coming to work drunk, then by all means, bring out the scotch.
In college we had three rules, 1. Do your best 2. Do what is right 3. Treat others the way you would want to be treated. We had one motto: Constant And Never-ending Improvement (CANI). People were held accountable for their actions, we didn't need a rule book to tell us what was right and wrong. If you did not know how to follow those 3 simple rules, you don't deserve to be on a team or attend a respectable college.

These are just a few examples, but I hope this illustrates the ridiculous lengths businesses go to to be counter-productive. I think Ross Pero said it best "If I see a snake I kill it, I don't form a committee on snakes". So true, how much productivity do businesses lose because problems are not nipped in the bud right away?
Now I know what a lot of you are saying. There are "workers rights" and other rules that managers have to abide by. I believe a major reason a lot of companies cannot run the way a college team is ran is because of unions. Principles of unions are out dated. In the 30's unions were necessary to protect workers. Now, all they do is protect lazy, undeserving workers. I believe if we do away with unions American business will grow once again.

Ok, I am getting off the original subject. I think you folks get my point though. Give workers a challenge and a feeling of self worth, and they will be productive, happy, a part of a team, reliable, and hard working.

Dickens Said it Best

I had lunch with an old friend today at a new restaurant. We did the standard holiday ritual, get together, catch up on new ventures, reminisce about old ones. I can't help but think how the ritual has stayed the same but the topic of conversation is drastically different. To compare a conversation a year ago, three years ago, five, ten, to the one today would be oceans apart in content. We talked about new jobs, money issues, family, you know, grown up stuff.

As I was driving home today I tried to imagine all the people elder than me going through all the same things that I am going through. Is it possible that my grandma had childhood friends? Did she lose touch because she had to tend to her kids, get a job, carry a load of responsibility... Grow up? Was she completley satisfied?

When you are younger you are constantly prompted to think about what you want for your future. When you get there and you have made all those things happen you spend all your time reminiscing about the past. Are we ever satisfied to be in the present?

Since I was 10 years old I knew some day I wanted a family. When I was 16 I knew someday I wanted to go to college. When I was 19 I knew someday I wanted to graduate and get a satisfying job to support a family. When I was 25 I wanted to go back to school and get my masters to provide a better life for my family. When I was 26 I had, or did, all of those things. There is something about time that dilutes your goals and expectations like too much water in a pitcher of Kool-Aid.

I have everything I have ever wanted since I can remember, I thank God every day. I have more than 90% of the rest of the world, but yet, at times I feel as though I need more. I am not talking about material goods, I am not talking about family issues. I am talking about personal hierarchy of needs. To put it plainly, I need a challenge.

Since we were all 5 years old we were constantly challenged, pushed to reach that next step. If you complete fifth grade, great, you move onto sixth. If you complete high school, great, you move onto college. If you got a B this semester, get an A next one. The list goes on. Everything I have ever known has told me to keep reaching, never give up, always set the next goal and not just achieve it, exceed it. I am a bread competitor. Now that I have the things I have worked for and am successfully managing them all am I suppose to turn that drive off like a switch?

It took me 27 years to truly realize this. I don't care if I am playing tidily winks with Connie Stienbach from down the street, I want to win. It didn't matter if I scored 4 goals in one game, if Gull Lake scored 5, I am still pissed we lost. I could score 25 points against a nationally ranked college basketball team, but if I would have made those two free throws I missed in the first half, we would have won. It is not enough to be good, you must be the best. Is this a admirable quality or a terrible burden? This is not to show triumph, it is to express personal nature. Day in and day out, there is something that drives us all. A list of motivational needs that must be met. I have achieved all the goals I have set for myself since the first time my brother beat me in basketball and I cried my eyes out because I never thought I would be as tall as him; so why do I still feel such a drive? Why do I feel complacent when I have had the same job for 3 years?

I know the answer to all these questions, I stated it before, I am a competitor. All the preparation to eventually get the job I have, has prepared me for a completely different job.

So did my friend and I talk about all of this at lunch today? We didn't mention it once, but with out talking about it once it has never been so clear how things have changed, but more so, how they have stayed the same.

I could never ask for a better wife, a better son, a better set of brothers, parents, sister, etc. I wouldn't change a thing about my past. I have "top notch" friends that have always been there for me. All this non-materail wealth under my hat. But yet I yearn for more.....in reference to the title....It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

Suspence Over

no more waiting. I didn't get the job. This just means that God has something better in store for me. Keep on plugging away.

The Suspense is Killing Me

Ok, as most of you out there know, I am in the process of finding a new job. That means I am looking but no bites yet. I had a great interview with Merck pharmaceuticals last week and the wait to hear back from them is eating at my brain. Filling my every thought. I must have replayed every second of that interview in my head 132 times. Is it strange to put that much emphasis on an interview, it is only determining the rest of your career life, that's all. I have had interviews before, I have had to wait for responses before, but this one is different. I laid it all on the line for this on. I had to drive to Grand Rapids, go through a three hour interview with 3 different people (one hour with each interviewer). There wasn't one point I didn't hit, not one angle I didn't attack, I was on. I felt so confident, I was convinced I had the job when I left, a week later, I am starting to second guess myself. If I didn't get this job I am very doubtful I have much to offer any other employer. Funny how time works, it is starting to make me think I missed something, I said something they didn't like, when a week ago I was sure they wanted to started the first Quentin Hunt fan club.
oh cruel time!! I just want a call at this point, good or bad, at least I will know and I can move on with the rest of my life.

Return From the.... Shed

First and foremost, I believe it is important for me to say, "sorry". I have been gone a very long time and have let down the 3 people out there that actual read my blog. I have been extremely busy with school and trying to find a new job. ok, that's not the point, just the intro.

As some of you know, I hunt for about 5 days every fall. My wife , Gibson and myself take a trip to the magical wonderland of McBain, if you have been there I am sure you can sense my sarcasm. Never-the-less, I enjoy my time there and I always anticipate bagging a buck.

This year my father in law was gracious enough to allow me to use his deer blind. I love using his blind because it has plenty of room and a nice warm space heater. As I enjoyed the artificial warmth of propane against my legs, I looked out over the snowy tundra. With every sweeping glance I hoped to see two huge bucks interlocked in battle. Instead I sat there and didn't see a dang thing. It was getting dark, so I started to gather my things when out of the corner of my eye I saw a buck nibbling on the bate pile. I stopped what I was doing, grabbed my trusty British 303 from WWII, and assumed the position. I opened the window of the blind so I could take aim at the beast. I was much too tall for the window so I had to bend over in a very awkward position. I wanted to get down on one knee but the heater that was once my friend is now a thorn in my side. I didn't want to chance moving the propane tank and startle the deer, so I just bent over at the waist and tried to get a decent shot off. With my knees shaking and my back twisted in a way that rivaled scoliosis, I nestled my eye up to the scope. I had the buck in my cross-hairs for spilt seconds at a time. The buck was about 200yrds away and I couldn't keep the barrel of the rifle steady. I knew what I had to do, take the shot as the cross-hairs of the scope passed by the breast of the buck, steady or not, here I come. BANG, the shot startled me because there is so much play in the trigger of this old rifle, I can never tell when exactly the gun will fire. I see two deer run off, did I get it? Where did it go? I quickly jump out of the blind and start to track the deer. The deer was too far to run after on foot so I took my father in law's truck across a creek to the bate pile. When I got to the bate pile I didn't see any blood, did I miss? Wait, there's a spot of blood right there on the ground. I felt something warm and thick streaming down my face. The blood I found was from my foreheard. The kick back from the rifle drove the scope right into my forehead, leaving an inch gash right between my eyes. Feeling like a complete turd, I hopped in the truck and headed for home.

I didn't have to drive far, I was in my in laws back yard. I pull the truck around and made my way up the drive-way. As I approach the garage I push on the brakes and nothing. The truck didn't jerk or slow down at all. NO BRAKES. I pushed the pedal to the floor still nothing. I am headed straight for the house with nothing but the side of the garage to slow me down. I experience horrifying pictures of the truck ending up in the living room. I braced myself for impact. Here we go. CRASH! I run directly into the side of the garage. It sounded as though an explosion went off. Kasey, Beth, and Kaitlyn all came running out of the house as though a meteor landed in their front yard. I put the truck in park and got out to assess the damage. Some how the truck only busted a few panels of siding, no serious damage. My "married into" family looked at me as though I just shot their dog. There I was, blood running down my face, my feet muddy to my knees, looking like I just hit their garage, because I did.
I started to stutter, there was nothing I could say to explain what just happened.

my mother in law started to give me the third degree before I could tell her the brake went out, as though she would believe it any way. Turns out, when I went through the creek the water froze around the discs and would not allow the brake pads to engage. Result, me hitting the garage with great force.

I was the laughing stock of McBain for that weekend. For a few different reasons, one, missing the deer, two, the nice Harry Potter scare on my fore-head, and three, deciding the garage was more like a speed bump.

Thank you for taking a look at, yet another, episode in my life.

WNBA Team Vs. Boys JV

Ok, I have been meaning to write this opinion down for some time. Though it may upset some women out there, my observations must be known.

I went to a WNBA game a year or two ago, free tickets, I couldn't pass it up. I was watching the Utah Starz against some other team. First of all, the place was empty, the crowd was dead, and I felt uncomfortable patronizing the event. There are many different hypothesis on why nobody goes to a WNBA game.
1. It is a new concept and it will take time for it to catch on.
2. Price determines value, if the tickets are free then people think the game and talent level is sub-par.
3. There is a stigma about women's athletics and if we can only shift that age old paradigm we will be able to enjoy women's sports just as well as men's.

I have a response for all three of these "educated guesses". BOLOGNA! Allow me to address each point made above.
1. The WNBA has been around long enough for it to "catch on". If the sport is quality, people will realize it. They have tried it on TV, and people turned the station after the novelty wore off. They have tried marketing live games and people were not fooled by all the glitter that dressed up this less than spectacular league, you can spray cologne on poop, but in the end it still stinks
2. People think that since the tickets are cheap or free that show isn't going to be good. Ok let see what happens when you try and sell WNBA tickets for the same price as NBA tickets. There would be about 3 people in the stands. I seriously think you have a better chance at selling Varsity boys tickets for $20 than WNBA for $20. No amount of marketing and pricing is going to give the perception of value in this case.
3. Yes, there is a stigma, but for good reason. If women's basketball was the same as men then they wouldn't use a different sized basketball, they wouldn't have a different shot clock(college) and they wouldn't be on separate teams, the men would play with the women. I hate to break it to the die hard feminazis out there, but on average men are just more athletic than women; ok, I said it, the secret is out.

Enough about my opinions, lets get to the facts. I was looking at the roster of the Utah Starz team and it looked something like this: Guard 5'7" Forward 6' Center 6'5". That looks exactly like the line up for my highschool JV boys team, the only difference is our 6'5" center could dunk. As I watched the game I tried to pick out differences from the Starz and my JV team at Comstock highschool in '95. The guards were quicker on the Starz, the forwards could shoot a little better. My JV team was stronger and could jump much higher. These are the best women players in the world, and they compare in size and ability to my JV team? Granted, these women know the game much better and are smarter with the ball, but that doesn't put butts in the seats. Another thing, if sports center had a highlight segment for every JV boys dunks around the country the show would take about 2 hours a day. Since they highlight all the WNBA dunks the segment takes about 15 seconds a season.

For all you people out there saying, "women's basketball can be just as exciting as men's". I agree, in some instances. I have seen a few close women's games that have knocked my socks off, I was cheering like a lunatic. I was cheering because of the suspense, the closeness of the game, not the sheer athleticism. The game was not good until the final two minutes. At Lake Superior State University many, if not all, of the women's games had more people in the stands than men's. They won more games than us, they had close games and they were playing for the conference title every night. They had a good following, but when I go to see a game, I want to be wowed by athleticism, amazed they are out there doing something that I could never do. If a male college basketball player shoots an air ball, the crowd rides him the rest of the game, chanting "air ball, air ball". If a female college basketball player shoots an air ball, they simply get back on D as though it was just another missed shot, no biggy. I seriously counted 8 air balls in a Division II women's college basketball game at Lake Superior State. There is something to be said about that statistic alone.

My point is, there are differences between men and women athletically, (body structure, muscle/fat quantity, muscle fiber type, etc.) it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out, but it does take some pretty hard headed people to deny it. Proprietors of the WNBA; don't be mad at the public, or the men, or the social climate about women's sports, or the grossly disproportionate pay between WNBA and NBA, when people don't respect the league, nor does it perform, nearly as well as the male counterpart. If my boys JV team can give some of the best female players in the world a run for their money, than they deserve about as many fans as I did in '95.

Titanic, Hindenburg, My Interview

As some of you may know I am currently looking for a new job in pharmaceutical sales. I have some pretty good connection that put in a good word for me at GlaxoSmithKline (GSK). GSK is the second largest pharmaceutical corporation in the world, just behind Pfizer. They are the big times. Well, they called me the other day to come on in for a "screening". Nothing major, not a real interview, just a "screening", they said. I translated that into "we just want to make sure you are not ugly and you can put sentences together without drooling". I felt pretty confident that this was just the first step in my many follow up interview with GSK.

I got there early, 9:10am. Two other jokers in black suits showed up about 10 minutes after me, just in time for me to size them up before I go in. Too fat, too bald, ran through my head as I smirked with confidence. "Next", they had called me into the board room. I felt like was sitting infront of Trump and hoping he wouldn't say "your fired". I was being interview by a pretty young lady and a older gentleman, both seemed very serious and too the point. They said "we just want you to go over your resume with us and put it into your own words." No problem, I have gone over my resume a million times, I made myself seem really smart, hard working, all the things that people want to hear before they put you to work. I work in a hospital and I told them that I deal with medications and drug reps quite frequently, which I do. So then they started drilling me with questions about the medications. I thought I handled them pretty smoothly until the final question. (I think it was the final question because I blew it so bad) The pretty lady asked "tell me how you would explain the side effects if I were a patient on your unit." 'Oh crap' I thought, I usually have a hand out to go by when I talk to my patients, I was flying solo here, no cheat sheets. So I started to explain a common drug used on our unit, Depakote. I started going over all the side effects that I knew about this medication, I said "it is an antipsychotic and it can cause weight gain, ah ah ah.... " (long pause, with me starting to sweat) The lady said "it is a what? an antipsychotic?" I went blank, I started to realize that I was describing Zyprexa, a drug of the same color. I was confused, was it Zyprexa (an antipsychotic) or Depakote(a mood stabilizer)? Which is which? They are both Purple!! Both of the hand outs look the same!! They are two very different drugs though...Which way to go? I could feel my face start to boil and turn red.... I wanted to say "you got me, you win, I blew it, thank you for your time, good luck with the brain teasers!" and run the heck out of there. After the long pause I sputtered out a few more generic side effects, "ah it can cause, ah diarrhea, ah, vomiting, and maybe some sleep disorders." That was the last question, they both looked at eachother and said "yeah, we will be in touch" I felt like a crook in an old movie when the cops come in and say "ok buddy, the jig is up" I felt like the wizard after Toto pulled back the curtain in Oz. I walked out of there praying the guys in the lobby pissed their pants, or shaved off there eyebrows or something, anything to give me a chance!

I will keep the people of this Blog posted. Who knows, maybe they want a guy that is willing to humiliate himself infront of professionals. I will be getting a call today. Wish me luck.

Just Not My Day

OK, I have been having one of those days. Much like the "Snow plow" story. I went to the gym this morning, like I do every morning. Which is another story all together, how I find the will power to keep dragging my lazy bones out of bed at 6:30am is beyond me. Back to the subject at hand, I was shooting around at the local fitness center when a couple of buddies suggested we play 21, the popular out of control basketball game of our youth. We started to play, my buddy Jason was guarding me, I had the ball I guess I was feeling kind of "and 1-ish" so I tried a really stupid move toward the basket, at the same time he lunged toward me to steal the ball. The end result is me on the ground with my face bleeding. We bumped heads and I have a gash over my left eye. Ok, it hurt, but no biggy. I figured I would just shower up and go to work. Well, the local "know it alls" in the locker room apparently can contribute a little more than just walking around naked showing off their saggy balls, one suggested I get the cut looked at because it could need stitches and may leave a bad scare.

Figuring this guy didn't get to where he was in the locker room hierarchy for nothing, I took his advice. I went to my local physician. She said I needed stitches, but she could not give them to me. That would take a whole new visit to the ER and a entirely new, larger co-pay. Sweet, thanks for charging me $106 to tell me I need stitches but you can't put them in. That is like charging me to tell me I am on fire but you can't put me out!

So off to the ER I go. They tell me it is going to be a whole other set of bills for them to put the stitches in, of course, why wouldn't it be. So I sit on my previously soiled ER bed and wait for my inadequately trained resident to sew me up like a Raggedy Andy doll. She said, "I am going to give you some local to numb the wound". I thought, sweet, no pain. Boy was I wrong. If somehow getting kicked repeatedly in the groin would have fixed my eye, I think that would have been less painful. I got three stitches and I felt every needle, every pull, every thread, I felt like Rambo in First Blood. Now mind you, this is after 5 liedacane shot, that obviously didn't work one bit. Every time she tried to give me a numbing shot it dripped in my eye and burned like a red head in the desert. To add insult to injury, no pun intended, the stitches are blue so I get every Tom, Dick, and Harry coming up to me and asking me "What happened". The stitches might as well be neon lights. I need to tape record this and just hit play.

I am at work now, so that doesn't make my day any better, but atleast I get to write it all down for you fine people. I don't want sympathy, just laughs.

Led Zeppelin: Preachers or Prophets?

Ok, we all know about what is going on in New Orleans right now. Tragedy no doubt. I am not writing to make fun of that event in any way. But, I can't help think of Led Zeppelin every time I turn on CNN; for some reason I always think they will cut to a comertial with the song "When the Levy Breaks" playing in the background.
Did Led Zeppelin know something that we didn't when they wrote that song? Was that levy so obviously weak that a song had to be written about it before it broke? That is like Gordon Lightfoot writing the Edmund Fitzgerald before the ship went down!! Is this just coincidence?
OK, now that I asked all those questions, I will shed some light on this enigma wrapped in a mystery.
Led Zeppelin, being the super power they were, and are, obviously have greater abilities than any mere mortal. To tell you the truth, I would be down right flabbergasted if the levy in New Orleans didn't break in the hurricane, just because Led Zeppelin said it would in a song 25 years prior.
Nay sayers can claim what they want,... But for me and my house, we believe.
I could go on all day on this topic, but I must run. ... work work work

School Days

Ok, I am back in school now. For those of you who don't know. I am in the last two semester so of my masters. I just started classes this week so I will not be able to write much any more. I am really busy with work. Sorry for the long hiatus. The work out is going good now, I have gained about 7 lbs already (in muscle I hope).

Day Two of The Work Out

I have been waking up at 6am now to work out for about 45 minutes before I go into work at 7:30. I feel good. I think I can keep this up. I am soar as all get out, but that is the price you pay, right?

Whose Body Am I In?

I was looking at some old pictures yesterday. Not too old, about 5-6 years. I was a sophomore or junior in college. Then I looked in the mirror. Not impressed.

For some reason my body did the exact opposite of most college students after graduation. I lost weight and look puny. I used to weigh about 215lbs. Now I am barely pushing 198lbs. I can't bench half what I used to. I have had a number of people say "Man Q, you really have lost some muscle, what did you do?"

Is this ok? Should I just say "well I am married now, who do I have to empress" or "I am not playing competitive bball any more, who cares if you aren't as strong". Or should I say what a real man would say "There is no reason you can't be just as fit as you used to be, you are still young, make your wife happy and get in the gym a few times a week you slob." I don't want to become a bulging meat head or anything, just get fit, like I used to be. I want to be fit for all the right reasons, feel good, be a good example for my son and wife. Not so I can wear a vintage t-shirt that is three sized to small at the bar and walk around as though my arms simply will not straighten out and rest at my side.

It is my birthday on Aug 11th, another year down. I am too old to pass as a college athlete but young enough to perform like one. So what am I waiting for? I am going to start today!! No more looking in the mirror and wondering who the turd is that is staring back at me!! Cheer me on gang, tell me "ONE MORE REP". I have a long row to hoe but I am going to give it a shot in this 27th year of life.

The Island.....A Must SEE

I went to the movies for the first time in about 3 months this weekend. I had to choose my movie wisely. I decided on a movie called The Island. Man, did I make a great pick. I don't know if it was because I went by myself, or that I hadn't seen a movie in so long or what. But I LOVED this movie. It is a must see. I don't care what the critics say, it was a great flick. I never really cared what the critics said before, but now I really shun their nonsense opinions. Go see this movie. If you liked the Matrix, Logan's Run, or any other futuristic Sci-Fi thriller, you have to see The Island. Ewan, couldn't be any more convincing, Johansson couldn't be any more cute and innocent, but still quite vicious when she has to be. A true master piece. I give it a thumbs up. Let me know what you think.

Every one Look at ME

I have a homepage now. take a look. there is also a link on there that you can email me. so if you like it, drop me a line. it is homepages.wmich.edu/~q4hunt don't put a www infront.