Dad Brog (#111): An offense so grand

The nightly routine goes as follows: 6:30pm, it’s upstairs for bath time.  Then comes the night routine of lotions and pajamas, and then it’s story time and then bed time for both the girls.

Tonight however, things took a turn for the explosive worst, when the pajamas I selected for #1 were the Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings pajamas that mythical wife picked up on clearance because my kids are toddlers and girls have a way easier time getting away with wearing boys-designated clothing than the other way around.

When she saw the pajamas that I was about to put on her, I might as well have declared war on the Jews, bombed Pearl Harbor, and released the Bubonic plague all at the same time.  She went absolutely ballistic and outright refused to wear the pajamas.  I tried to coax them onto her, and was met with a fucking Liu Kang bicycle kick for my troubles. 

I did eventually get them onto her, hoping that she’d chill out and resign to the clothes that she would just be sleeping in, and changing out of in the morning, but no, it was screaming and snot and tears and waterworks, and I’m trying my hardest not to die laughing over the fact that it was just a pair of fucking Shang-Chi pajamas that was triggering this meltdown.

Eventually, it became apparent that she wasn’t going to lose this argument.  We went into her room for story time and lights out and the meltdown was still on.  And because my house is kept cold through the night, I didn’t want her to strip down as soon as I left the room, so I acquiesced and changed her pajamas to something that wasn’t as offensive as screaming the N-word at the top of my lungs in College Park.

Lesson learned today: #1 most definitely isn’t a fan of Shang-Chi.  Better avoid that one when eventually going through the Marvel movies timeline in the future.

Someone is clearly a Shinsuke Nakamura fan

Credit goes to mythical wife for turning me onto this story, but out of the blue she asks me if I’d seen these baseball uniforms.  Obviously the answer is no, because I’m so buried in either work or parenting that I see practically nothing that isn’t spoon fed to me through social media, and I’m disappointed in the algorithms that didn’t feed me this one, because it’s basically tailor made for my general interests.

But the Nippon Ham Fighters of NPB debuted some brand-new alternate uniforms, and naturally my first reaction is wtf, but very closely followed with the very obvious parallel that these look basically like one of Shinsuke Nakamura’s signature ring attires.  I mean come on, the two-tone red and black everything, the plunging V neckline with the weird collars on it, it’s straight up Shinsuke Nakamura all over it.

It turns out that these uniforms were “designed” by manager Tsuyoshi Shinjo, who’s a pretty flamboyant guy in his own right, but I think it’s safe to assume that he’s probably a Shinsuke Nakamura fan, because there’s absolutely no reason at all for a design like this to ever manifest from a baseball brand whose colors are primarily blues and golds.

Either way, upon seeing these horrible uniforms, it was inevitable that I couldn’t avoid brogging about it, as well as photoshopping Shinsuke Nakamura onto pictures of the team in these hideous kits.  But apparently, new uniform luck still applies to these as well; from what I understand, the starting pitcher for the debut game ended up throwing a complete game shutout.  Perhaps the Lotte Giants hitters were confused about stepping into a batters box against a professional wrestler, and by the time they realized they were up against a pitcher, they were already behind in the count.

Maybe Shinjo can go ahead and get started with designing the kits for the 2027 World Baseball Classic, because nothing would be a bigger power move than seeing Japan’s best players winning another WBC, all while cosplaying as Shinsuke Nakamura.  Imagine Mike Trout and Bryce Harper striking out to Shohei Ohtani wearing this get up

Legend status.

I don’t think Tony Kemp’s wife understand how all this works

I don’t know why it was fed to me, but from the standpoint of it triggering enough reaction to where I felt like writing about it, I guess our AI overlords sure know how to get to each and every one of us.  But I read this story about how baseball player Tony Kemp’s wife gave him an ultimatum after he was drafted, to make it to the big leagues in three years, and I’m just really annoyed by it.

Personally, I don’t like the idea of ultimatums in the first place, and feel that ultimatums in general are usually employed in lost cause situations, and I’m of the personality to where I most certainly don’t like the heavy pressures that usually are associated with ultimatums, to where they’re automatically detrimental to whatever cause for ultimatum there was in the first place.

So I feel for Tony Kemp despite not really knowing much about him at all, seeing as how I’m basically a casual baseball fan these days and I don’t know every 25-man roster of every team like I used to, because having to play under such an unreasonable and incredibly selfish clock to begin with probably wasn’t the most ideal of conditions to be starting a professional career with.

When a player is drafted, there’s still a gargantuan amount of luck and moving parts that all need to shift and move and fall into place perfectly for them to actually make it to the major leagues, and there are countless examples of baseball players throughout history who have performed well, and never made it to the big leagues.  Even this year, was a story about a guy on the Pirates who had toiled in the minor leagues for 13 years before getting his first-ever opportunity to play in the major leagues.  And even still, he only made it up on account of an injury, and was jettisoned back to the minor leagues as soon as the player returned.

The typical timeline for a player, and that’s if they play well, have the front office behind them, and have already been invested in, is usually like five years.  They might get a September call-up before then, or a cup of coffee if someone is injured, but if everything goes well, players that are part of a team’s plan, usually still make it up in five for good.  And that’s only if the parent ballclub isn’t trying to manipulate service time and playing chess with a player’s career in order to exploit loopholes in roster construction.

So for Tony Kemp’s wife to basically demand that Tony Kemp make it to the big leagues in three years, to me, comes off as extremely reckless, unreasonable, and because the underlying message was, because her career would have to go on hold, pretty selfish.  Good on her for having her own career hopes and ambitions, but maybe don’t marry a ballplayer, much less slap a ridiculous ultimatum on him, because the pressure of such alone, could very well have blown up in their faces.

The only reason why this is a non-issue today is the fact that Tony Kemp miraculously did succeed at making it to the bigs in three years.  And thankfully there wasn’t any intricate stipulations in his ultimatum with the wife about needing to actually stick in the major leagues, because after he came up in 2016, the Astros ping-ponged him back and forth to the minors multiple times over the next few years, but if I had to guess, since he was a part (at least on the 40-man roster) of the 2017 cheating champions squad, wifey probably got swept up in just how big of a deal it can be, even for a shuttle-bus player like Kemp was then.

Here’s what irks me though; Kemp’s wife was in broadcasting in some capacity up in Toronto, and her career was supposedly trending in a direction she wanted.  Even if she stayed in broadcasting, what kind of ceiling would she capable of reaching?  Probably not to the heights that even a baseball player of marginal talent could achieve, just by being the last guy on a 25-man roster.  Money is not everything in life, but seeing as how the MLB minimum when Kemp was a rookie was still $475K, I’m willing to bet that ol’ Tony was going to be the primary breadwinner.

But the thing is that wifey basically gambled with his career, all because she was concerned about putting her career on hold.  Like, there are ways to go about chasing dreams independently, without having to put unreasonable pressure on your partner, but that’s basically what happened with the Kemps, and that’s kind of why I got fired up over this topic in the first place.

Like I’m sure Kemp’s wife isn’t so torn up about giving up her career, seeing as how hubby has made over $8 million throughout his career, which is kind of surprising considering how mediocre of a talent he kind of is.  He had one okay season in 2021, but he’s still a career .239 hitter with an OPS of .679, and has a career bWAR of 3.6 which is heavily weighted by his performance in 2021.  And the way he’s playing in 2023, his major league career probably isn’t going to last much longer, but like I said, he’s made $8M in his career, and smart people have parlayed less into retirement and the good life.

If I’m a betting man though, a partner who rains on the parade of him getting drafted in the first place with ultimatums, is probably a partner that’s going to be crawling up his asshole once his major league career starts to fizzle, and he’s stashed in the minors of whomever is willing to keep him employed.  Sucks because there are now kids involved, but that’s life in America, and everyone needs to take care of themselves so they can take care of the others that matter; with or without the unnecessary pressures of ultimatums.

Subject line: In-Office Schedule

When I saw that subject line in an office memo that came out, I knew exactly what it was going to be about.  And sure as shit, starting in August, my company is now going to four days in-office, one day remote.  Rather one day “flex,” which all but guarantees that 90% of the people who have it as a flex day won’t be coming into the office.  I know that my ass will never be coming into the office on a flex day, unless I directly told that I had to.

When I started with my company, we were still full-remote, since pretty much the whole world was still operating full-remote at the time.  It wasn’t until about April of 2022 that we were brought back to the office, and at that time, it was Monday and Wednesday in-office, Thursday being a flex day, and Tuesday and Friday being remote.  This was a good way to ease people into coming back to the office, and seeing as how my now new office had a gym that I could work out at, I relished in the opportunity to go hit the weights again, even if it meant having to come into the office again.

That being said, I came into the office on most Thursdays, despite it being flex, because it was more conducive to a workout schedule, and it turned out that I was getting more work done in the office, because at that time, my childcare situation was still an abyss of flakes prior to getting an au pair.  It also didn’t hurt that upper management acknowledged that I was present on Thursdays, which is always a plus to get brownie points from superiors.

Eventually, Tuesdays were deemed mandatory office days, with Thursdays remaining flex, and Friday being remote, which is where I’m at now.  It’s definitely a step in the wrong direction as far as personal comfort goes, because my exercise weeks are front-loaded since I’m going into the office M-W, meaning my cardio days are Thursdays and unfortunately on Saturdays too to ensure I’m running at least twice a week.  First world problems, I know, but the main thing is that the weeks now feel longer with three consecutive mandatory office days, and by the time Thursday rolls around, there’s a zero percent chance that I’m going to actually flex into the office on those days.

And as of August, it’ll be four days in the office, with Friday being the lone day where we can work from home.  I would wager money that by no later than January 2, 2024, my company will be five days in the office again, with the lone incentive to try and seem humanitarian will be a degree of leniency with working from home in the event of sickness or logical reasoning.

Continue reading “Subject line: In-Office Schedule”

LOL’d: Zuck the grappler

TIL: Mark Zuckerberg has gotten into Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, and has become competent enough to win medals at a local event, against adults

Color me surprised at this one.  Seeing the words “Mark Zuckerberg” and “Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu”  together was enough for me to try and learn more, but let’s be real here.  Nobody wants to see Zuck actually win in BJJ, most people like me want to see him get wrapped up and tap out, and keep the status quo of him being an entitled rich dork, but still completely out of his element when it comes to anything at all involving physical activity.

And the first story I came across, Zuck isn’t exactly the next GSP in the making, but the fact that he didn’t tap out, and didn’t technically lose in the video I watched, showed that perhaps he’s not a complete hopeless invalid when it comes to getting physical.  And for the record, he was going up against actual grown men, and not the kindergarteners we’d expect someone of his hypothetical physical competency should be paired up with.

Supposedly, he won two medals at this event, and I was a mixture of, “okay, so Zuck isn’t terrible at it, I guess having all the money in the world has been able to buy him some competency” and disappointed at not seeing him get twisted into a pretzel and tap out like Tank Abbott.  And the very obvious curiosity if he’s paying opponents to lay down in order to make him look good because he can definitely afford it.

But later in the afternoon, a friend of mine shared another link, from supposedly the same event, where Zuck loses a decision, but then is shown arguing and complaining to the official after the match, and as the story went, he apparently was able to get the decision reversed, and basically got another chance to compete again, to where he was able to then claim some sort of success and was rewarded with some medals.

And this is was the story and narrative that I was hoping to see and hear, where now Zuck really isn’t as good as the first and obviously cherry-picked story had him placed, and he needs to complain and whine like the spoiled entitled rich white asshole everyone thinks he is in order to attain a level of success.

I think the best part of the second video is the amount of attention Zuck’s fight was getting mainly because it was Zuck, and based on the reaction of everyone cheering on the other guy, it’s evident that even the people there were all hoping for the same result as I was; to see Zuck lose. 

The guy might have more money than many countries’ GDPs, but all the money in the world can’t buy him the amount of BJJ success as he’s hoping to attain.

Dad Brog (#110): Who knew toddler recitals were like Taylor Swift concerts?

As many parents do, mythical wife and I have enrolled #1 in dance classes, among other extracurricular activities to explore the aptitude and interest of our children to see what they might like.  She definitely seems to enjoy dance, but she’s also just three years old, so it’s way too early to tell what future lies ahead of this pathway, but for all intents and purposes, she’s nearing the completion of her first “year” of dance class.

And of course with dance classes comes an end-of-year recital, and I am looking forward to seeing my little girl up on stage in matching costumes with her peers and seeing just how well (or hilariously bad) she can work in tandem with her class.

All throughout the year, parents are pretty well-informed of everything going on with the program, and as we gear up for recital SZN (they really love to use that phrasing), emails have gone out to remind parents to get ready for ticket registration.  It turns out that the recital isn’t going to be like some local community center or a nearby high school auditorium or something, but they’re renting out an actual university auditorium, and it’ll be capable of seating close to 1,100 people.  Tickets are genuinely at risk of selling out, so we the parents are implored to be ready to register when they’re available at a specific time on a specific date.

Still, I didn’t think much of it, but when I got home, mythical wife explained to me to “be ready,” and that I should probably go get my laptop so that we could log on together.  I’m like, wtf for, isn’t this just a kids’ dance recital?  Why are we preparing for Dragon*Con hotel registration or Comic-Con membership?

I guess being part of moms groups and such have given mythical wife more insight than I have, but apparently getting our dance tickets is a really big deal, and that we should probably be very ready to go once 8pm EST hits.  But I don’t want to miss the opportunity to secure tickets for my daughter’s first recital, so I get ready to go all the same.

Sure enough, by 7:55pm, the website link we’re given to get our tickets from starts being slow to reload, and it’s clear that they’re starting to get bogged down with traffic.  8pm hits, and the button goes live, and it’s a surprising slog to get through.  The seating chart pops up, I enter our code, but I’m noticing that no matter what seats I press, there’s any reaction from the page itself.  I refresh, the site takes forever to repopulate, and the result doesn’t change.

Miraculously, mythical wife is able to get through, and secure four tickets.  However one is out of sequence, and all in all, we need five.  We solder back to the site to try and get the fifth ticket, hopefully in our row, but the site is completely borked.  I refresh and refresh, and get different results of what shows up on the page.  I get sent back to a landing and see to check back ten days later at 8 pm.  Then to check back at 9pm later tonight.  And then eventually, a crash on the page outright, and it doesn’t look like we’re going to get that fifth ticket.

Now I didn’t try and get Taylor Swift tickets when they went on sale, but I imagine it was just like what I was going through.  It’s apparent that the dance company entrusted their ticket distribution to a company that might as well have been Ticketmaster for as poorly as they go overwhelmed by a bunch of local parents who just wanted to get tickets to see their kids dance.

In all honesty, I’ve had better luck securing hotel rooms for Dragon*Con than I did trying to get tickets for my daughter’s dance recital.  I’ve never failed to get a room whenever I’ve tried, but in my first try to get dance recital tickets, I get shutout.

Apparently, this is the norm for this particular dance company, and if my kid(s) end up liking it and sticking it with the foreseeable future, I suppose I should get ready to get owned again and again for years to come.

I think I’m done gambling for a while

I took a whirlwind, 24-hour trip to Las Vegas this past weekend, primarily to bear witness to one of my closest friends getting married.  I deliberately made the trip short, because I’m stingy with my PTO at work, mythical wife couldn’t come with me, and frankly there’s nothing good to come out of me having too much time in Las Vegas.  I’m already uncomfortable in my financial life these days, and trips like Vegas can be colossal hazards to anyone’s personal finances.

Still, short as the trip was, I made sure to tackle some of the things that I missed out on during my last trip during Labor Day, like hitting up Ellis Island, and visiting Sayulita’s, where I needed to try for myself one of the monster big ass burritos that I’d seen from their social media presence. 

And let me tell you something about this burrito pictured here, it was without question the largest burrito I’ve ever encountered in my life, and this wasn’t the biggest one on their menu too.  I waffled on the idea of going there, since I was still full from the post-wedding dinner that I got to indulge in, but I knew that if I didn’t go there, I’d be left with no real other food options except the one Shake Shack in McCarron Harry Reid which would be slammed packed from other travelers left with no other option, plus I would just simply regret not going when I was already in the city.  So I went, and even thought it was $20 after tax and tip, it definitely is more than $20 worth of food.

I wasn’t hungry at the time, but I ate a quarter of it before my flight, because I didn’t want to get hungry mid-redeye flight, and be that asshole unwrapping a monster burrito on an airplane and letting its aroma get all over the place.  After I got home and took a little bit of a recovery nap, I ate 3/4 of what was left before I felt like I was going to burst, and later in the day, I finished it off, and then I literally didn’t have to eat again for the rest of the day.

And it was fantastic, and every bit worth the trip off the beaten tourist path to go try them out.  Would definitely drop them a five-star rating on Yelp if I weren’t low-key salty about them not making me Elite status again for 2023.

But anyway, to get to the point of the title of this post, I think I’m done gambling for a while.  Not solely because I didn’t have a particularly good gambling trip in the small opportunities I had to gamble (I got pretty decimated, so much for wedding luck), it’s just that I frankly don’t have the bankrolls or the means to build the bankrolls I’d need in order to gamble as I’d like to in Las Vegas anymore.

I used to be able to stretch $500 to last a whole weekend in the past, but that amount barely kept me in the game for a single day this past trip.  Table minimums have risen across the entire Strip, and pretty much at no point does a table drop beneath a $15 minimum at any casino I’ve been to, from Harrah’s to Bally’s Horseshoe to Cosmopolitan to the Venetian.  And after like, noon, those “low” limits vanish and it’s basically $25 minimums anywhere and everywhere from there on.

Nice, manageable $10 minimums are an extinct relic on the Strip now, and that means a $100 buy in here or there just doesn’t last as long as they used to, not to mention that even at a $15 minimum, they’re harder to manage and round off to nice increments of hundos, and obviously such is done deliberately to more expediently part money away from us gambling schmucks in the first place.

Lower, more appealing to my broke ass limits are still available, off-Strip and places like Ellis Island, but other than my brother, it’s hard to convince anyone at all to go to Ellis Island with me.  I think I’ve talked about the place so much it’s to the point where people want to deliberately shun it just to troll me, that and the fact that for whatever reason, people just can’t seem to want to ever wander off the Strip in the first place.

The bottom line is that it’s gotten to the point where I can’t really afford to gamble in Las Vegas anymore.  At least at this juncture of my life, where nearly all of my earnings goes towards my kids and bills and there’s practically nothing left for me to do anything.  But it’s still a little demoralizing, because I really do enjoy gambling and being in Las Vegas, but aside from rising minimums and my cash flow not rising commensurate to keep up, the place has changed a lot since the days in which I’d make 3-4 trips a year, and after this past trip, I think I can safely say that my itch to Vegas it up in all applicable ways, is kind of gone.

But never say never, who knows how things will change in the passage of time.  Maybe I’ll make more money one day, and not all of it is hoovered up by responsibilities, or maybe but not likely Vegas will drop their minimums and bank on getting more action.  Or maybe I’ll come across some more gambling videos with supposed unbeatable, low-risk grind methods in roulette or craps that will reignite the itch.  Until then, we’ll see how long it takes for me to get back out there next.