I go to the grocery store...for groceries.

Ah, the grocery store.

The place where all our food dreams come true. The place where they've gotten so damn cheap and lazy, that we now work them and use the "U-Scan" and the place where the Atkins Diet people have made the price of beef go sky high.

I like the grocery store.

You see, I have this Sunday morning ritual going. I get up, read the sports section over a cup of coffee, grab a quick bite to eat and out I head to the store.

Its my "quiet time". My time to chill out and gather for the family. You know "hunters, gatherers"? We men do it all.

Sure, I have to figure out what coupon is still good and how much lunchmeat to buy, but hey, for an hour and a half, its just me, the shopping cart, a cup of coffee and, and, and, and...

PEOPLE WHO TRY TO SELL ME SHIT AND WANT MY MONEY AT THE FRONT DOOR!!!

That's right. At the front door of the store.

You know what I am talking about. Its all about those evil-doers who try to take our hard-earned grocery bucks before and after we leave the store.

Boy Scouts who try to sell you the stale ass popcorn in a can.

The Girl Scouts who sell their overpriced, not-as-good-as-they-used-to-be cookies.

Those guys who sell those newspapers no one reads (with apologies to my good friend Kahuna who does such a wonderful job for a local Goodfellows group).

The firefighters who are raising money for something or other.

The police (ditto the firefighters).

The local Little League Baseball or Football group selling something.

Groups of cheerleaders selling something.

Will this madness ever stop?

I don't want to be bombarded at the front door of the store, either on my way in or on my way out. Leave me alone. Heck, I'm a charitable and giving guy. Just don't take my cash when I am busy trying to figure out what type of detergent I need to buy.

Seriously. These groups all have good causes. But I don't want to see them EVERY TIME I go to the store. Just once, let me walk in and out in peace without having to run the gauntlet of guilt and go past them while some cute, little Brownie girl gives me the sad eyes and talks me into the Peanut Butter Patty (why don't they call them that anymore? What is the name of that cookie anyway, "Tagabout" or something stupid like that?).

Alright. I'm done.

But don't get in the way of this shopper.

When I am done U-scanning, I am spent.

Literally.

Joey Ballgame, Chunky Chili and Chick TV

Talk about being all over the map.

That is where I am headed with this latest installment on the Proc Blog.

In this issue, I will cover such diverse topics as the Detroit Lions quarterback, canned chili and television aimed at a female audience.

Here we go.

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Joey Ballgame - Lions Quarterback

When my beloved Detroit Lions drafted Joey Harrington with the 3rd pick of the 2002 draft, I was pretty pumped up. It appeared on paper (I love that term "on paper") that the Lions had picked up the second coming of Joe Montana.

Did they really get the next Joe Montana?

Well, they haven't -- yet.

Call me a slappy, but if the Lions could ever get an offensive line that can run block, I do think that Joey (he needs to change it to just "Joe") Harrington will be a serviceable quarterback. The Lions rank 32nd in rushing this year. In case you are wondering where that ranks, well, its at the bottom. Last, even. Without a running game, the pressure is shifted to the quarterback to make plays. However, when teams know you are going to pass, they drop back in coverage and make life that much harder for the QB.

Will the Lions ever get that elusive running game going?

I don't know. I have a feeling they will continue to be at the bottom of the league in rushing and that Mr. Harrington, "Joey Ballgame" around these parts, will take the blame. And, in grand Detroit sports team fashion, they will let him go, where he will flourish for another team.

Oh well, another frustrating Lion's season.

1957. The Lions win it all.

Sigh.


Chunky Chili

As I sat camped out on my Laz-E-Boy with beverage in hand watching the NFL a few weeks ago, I was overwhelmed by the number of commercials for Campbell's Chunky Chili. Normally, you put the word "chunky" in front of anything and I get a bit grossed out, but I was intrigued, seeing as I dig chili. Visions of tailgaters munching down on warm bowls of chili while imbibing in alcoholic beverages and throwing footballs seemed to beckon to me.

I thought to myself: I must have this chili.

So, off I was to the local grocery store to finalize my conquest of this supposed, can delight.

Was there anyway a canned chili could compete with homemade?

Yes.

This shit is good. Decent even. I polished off the contents with a splash of Red Hot and crackers added and declared it "good".

Chunky Chili has got it goin' on.


Chick TV

What is up with all the cable/satellite stations for women out there? We have Oxygen, We, Leftime and Oh! that I know of. I mean, seriously, how many times can each of these stations show a Hugh Grant movie? I think I've seen "Four Weddings and a Funeral" listed on one of these stations at least once a week for the past month.

What am I doing checking the guide for these stations you ask?

Well, my significant other, Angie, has it on her "Favorites" list on the channel guide. For some reason, the TV is always on her favorites. Go figure.

Now, many woman might argue that ESPN is for men, but that is not true. They sometimes show woman's pro basketball (which no one watches).

I want my own channel.

I want to be the new Ted Turner.

PROC TV.

My station will show sports programs complete with my announcers that can swear and say anything they want like, "Hey, Joey Harrington sucks today. It looks like he stayed up late watching the Oxygen channel. What a puss.".

I'd have my own game shows to where contestants would answer sports-related questions to win cases of Chunky Chili.

I'd also have reruns of "Everybody Loves Raymond" and the original "Twilight Zone" running all the time.

My station would not show "Four Wedding and a Funeral" or any other Hugh Grant movie for that matter.

Oh! We need Oxygen in this Lifetime.

Not on TV we don't.

We are men.

PROC TV. Ask you cable or satellite provider about it.

The Evolution of a Beer Drinker

***Originally published on beeradvocate.com 11/18/02 but it needed to be republished here in Proc-Blogdom to assist those in the quest for beer knowledge and fufillment.***

The Evolution of a Beer Drinker

From Bud to Advocacy, the Rise of the Beer Drinker.

As with most things in life, the more we experience something, the more our understanding, appreciation and knowledge of it grows.And yes, beer is an experience.

This experience can be chronicled throughout the evolution of BeerManKind ...

The Cave Man Period

We start off our evolution much like the Neanderthal or Cro-Magnon Man in our pursuit of quarry that gets us by and provides for our beer sustenance. Inexpensive lagers and malt liquors and satisfy our beer survival instincts. We walk hunched over and wear "Bud" t-shirts.

The Medieval Period

As our evolution progresses, we work our way into the role of Knights of The Beer Table. Our intentions are brave and we dare to take chances. We lay our glassware out and try to save the day. Save the princess? No, but we'll drink with her. The word "pint" enters our vocabulary for the first time and we heartily drink like a King. Yes, a fresh pint of Guinness and we think we can rule the kingdom.

The Explorer Period

Like Columbus, Magellan and Marco Polo, we set off in the pursuit of new treasures. We leave behind the comforts of home and venture out to foreign lands. The hops and malts of offshore places tickle our palates and we become worldly. Heineken, Beck's, Corona, and Stella beckon us to their side.

We bring these treasures back to our home land.

We are heroes.

The Governor Period

We return home as conquering men of John Courage. We now discover delights in our own backyards. Various beers from our region are sampled and deemed incredibly delicious. We drink the nectar from our native soil and believe we masters of our own domain. And, in some ways, we probably are. Drinkers all over the world consume locally brewed beers and try to spread the word far and wide.

The Belgian Period (the Period of Discovery)

It is at this point in our evolution that all hell breaks loose. We find out that monks make beer and have done so for years. Finding out that these men of religion brew beer, we respond, "That is too cool." We open these complex delights and screams of "Chimay!" and "Westy!" bellow out of our mouths. We buy goblet-shaped glassware and throw out our Spuds McKenzie plastic mugs. We talk about "balance" and "body" and for the first time in our lives, we understand what a barley wine is.

The Advocacy Period

Our journey into BeerManKind is complete.

Our evolution reaches its pinnacle.

We know what an IPA is.

We know hops by the names of Cascade and Tettnanger and Noble.

Our families look at us funny, but humor us.

We actually give ratings to beer and know, for the most part, what we are talking about.

We walk upright.

We have evolved.

--Kind of makes you want to have a beer right now doesn't it? -Darren, 11/9/04

The Fighting Electors! Go Electoral College!

Another presidential election has come and gone.

And, here, this day after the big event, George W. Bush, has reclaimed the top spot with a hard fought victory over John F. Kerry.

Speaking of John F. Kerry...would the country have been ready for the return of a new "JFK"? Hmm...

I am not here to sulk or gloat over the outcome of the election. However, my offer of pot roast to George and Laura still stands.

No, I am here to spout rhetoric and bull shit about the Electoral College.

I am so tired of network anchorpersons and reporters and their reports as to why we supposedly don't need the Electoral Colleg.

Do away with it?

Hell no.

It works.

Think of the Electoral College as fifty separate elections. Really, that is all it is. You win the popular vote in a state, you win their "electors" or electoral votes. You get at least 270 or more of the 538 electoral votes and you win.

538? You ask.

Yes, 538. The number is equal to the number of representatives in the House of Representatives (438) and the number of senators (100). Each state has a certain number of members of the House of Representatives (here in Michigan it is 15) and all have 2 senators. Add 'em up and you get your number of electoral votes.

Why is this a big deal?

Because it forces the candidates to campaign everywhere. Bush was in Michigan's Upper Peninsula. Kerry made stops in Iowa. Would they have visited either without the Electoral College?

No.

If we go to a Popular Vote-only election, only the major metropolitan centers of the U.S. will matter. Idaho and New Hampshire be damned, because you won't matter anymore. As it stands now, New Hampshire and its 4 electoral votes looked pretty big for awhile last night.

The "College" make each state important. The popular vote does note.

O.K. Now that I have that off my chest, I need to turn my attention to what I really want of the Electoral College.

A football team.

That is right. A football team.

Every college needs a team, a stadium and hot cheerleaders.

So, let's hear it for the Electoral College Fighting Electors.

Next to my beloved University of Michigan Wolverines, they could very well be my new favorite team.

I miss the NHL.

I know I am definetely in the minority on this one.

I miss the NHL.

Last night was supposed to be my beloved Detroit Red Wings home opener. It didn't happen.

You see, the owners have "locked out" the players because they want a new collective bargaining agreement that will let them pay the players less than they paid them before which bascially is the cause of the problem leading to the lockout.

Got that?

I doubt it.

No one seems to understand it.

Aside from the hockey crazies in Canada and those in a few "real" hockey cities in the U.S. like Detroit, no one seems to miss the #4 major sport in America. Oops, make that #5, NASCAR has zoomed past it.

No, no one will miss it. They will get comfy on the couch and watch the World Series and the NFL and even the NBA after the Super Bowl is finished. They will even watch Poker on TV. And you all know my thoughts on that.

Last night as I settled into my Laz-E-Boy with a cold one and some shelled peanuts to watch the end of the Houston-St. Louis game and the end of the Yankee hex over the Red Sox, I actually felt bummed out that my clicker finger couldn't tune to Fox Sport Net Detroit and put on the Red Wing's game. Honestly, I thought I wouldn't care. I guess I do.

I am going to miss driving dowtown and parking for free behind the Greyhound Bus terminal and walking through the wasteland that is downtown Detroit on my way to Joe Louis Arena. I am going to miss walking up the 77 steps to our last row seats. I am going to miss the $7.50 beers. I am going to miss the people in the seats around us.

I know its an owners vs. players labor issue, but at the crux of the problem is hockey's failure to gain an expanded audience. It is a sport that doesn't translate well to television. In my humble opinion, it is the BEST sport to watch live. The action is constant and continuously unfolding. Watching it live, you can see the plays develop, which you can't on TV. Another reason for the problem is TV timeouts. It cuts into the flow of the game, but as we all know, without advertising revenue, there is no TV.

What to do?

I don't know. This labor impasse, which is hindered by the lack of a good, national TV contract (for reasons I just stated), doesn't look to end anytime soon. Oh, it will end and hockey will return. And only the hardcore fans will watch.

You know what?

Only the hardcore fans were watching anyway.

Steve Yzerman, we miss you old friend.

Oh look, the fat guy on TV has a full house and knocked out the dude with a pair of 2's.

Maybe I should get another beer and give this poker thing another chance.

Who I am voting for...its a matter of dinner.

Ah, elections.

Nothing quite like the democratic process at work here in the good old U.S.A. This much is for sure: Families fight over who to vote for, spouses quit talking over it, and Florida screws up.

And, of course, we get the media to throw their right and left-winged two cents our way, telling us who to vote for and why. Its good to know the media knows more than we do.

My neighbors have a political "Sign War '04" underway right now. Bush-Chaney vs. Kerry-Edwards in a 30 x 20 Front Yard Lawn Sign fight. So far, its 2 to 1 in favor of the incumbent, but I expect this could change at any moment if the Talassis family or somebody else lays some front yard sign smack out. To hell with the polls, we got lawn signs going. Right now, "Dubya" is leading (margin of error, 1 sign).

Who am I going to vote for?

Its pretty simple really.

It all boils down to one thing.

Who (and their wife) would I most like to have over for dinner?

Yes. I have discovered the secret of a well-informed decision behind voting. Its who can I sit down with for an hour, eat pot roast and have conversation with without being put-off or uncomfortable.

And who do you think I would most like to chow down with?

George and Laura.

I think the conversation would be good. We could talk football, baseball and decorating the White House. Add the pot roast into the mix and I think we have the basis for a nice, relaxed, comfortable dinner.

As for the John and Theresa? I don't think so. I imagine a nice conversation with John, but then I see her melting down and complaining of the common peasant dinner of pot roast and demanding the servants show up. It wouldn't be casual or comfortable. Hell, I'm getting nervous thinking about that dinner party.

Oh, I suppose I could have the Kerry's over too.

But, there will be no Heinz ketchup served in my house. I can' play favorites you know.

I am Darren Proctor and I approve this message.

Poker on TV. It Must Be Stopped.

Its amazing all the TV sports available to us nowadays.

Back in the day when ESPN was launched (yes, I am that old and remember when they first started), they were known for their off-beat, we-must-fill-all-time-slots-with-something-programming. It was not uncommon to see horseshoes, chick volleyball, ping pong, billiards and other assorted, "What the f*** kind of supposed sport are they showing now?" things on their airwaves.

But this new, sudden fascination with poker and putting it on TV has gone too far.

I can't take it anymore.

I don't want to see poker on TV. I mean, I can handle playing it once or twice a year with the fellas, when you all pony up to buy the big fight on Pay-Per-View, but to sit down and actually watch a freakin' card game on TV? No effin' way.

I'm holding out for "Go Fish", "Crazy 8's", or "Uno".

Now that sh*t would make for some fine "sports" programming.

Humpty Dumpty was pushed or How Fairy Tales are to blame for violence in society.

Humpty Dumpty was pushed.

Really, he was.

You know the story, "...all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't put Humpty together again.."

Of course they couldn't. By then, he was dead. He shell had been decimated in the fall and there was not hope of recovery.

Why?

Why would anyone assassinate an egg? The non-humanity of it all.

Does anyone really think he just fell off that wall? Right. How many times have you fallen off a wall? Unless booze was involved, I smell a conspiracy.

The Zapruder film on this one hasn't surfaced yet, but it will. It will show that one of the King's men crawled on his stomach across the grassy knoll and in Kilroy-fashion on the wall, shoved Humpty as hard as he could knowing that the fall would produce one of the largest tragedies known to Fairy Tale-kind.

Speaking of Fairy Tales. I am sure your parents or grandparents read them to you. They, of course, are wonderful stories that enriched our lives. We are better people for listening to these stories and their moral, aren't we?

No, we aren't.

Fairy tales are full of violence. It is this violence that through their stories, has permeated our society and caused the problems we have now. Think about. Take this line from "The Old Lady that Lived in a Shoe"...you think she was a caring woman? No, she wasn't. Read on:

"...She whipped them all soundly, And sent them to bed"

How about this one?

Little Jack Horner,
Sat in a corner;
Eating a Christmas pie,
He stuck in his thumb,
And pulled out a plum,
And said, "What a good boy am I."

Good boy? He stuck his freakin' thumb in a perfectly good pie? Are we to put up with and encourage this type of behavior?

It goes on:

Little Miss Muffet sat on a tuffet,
Eating her curds and whey.
There came a big spider,
Who sat down beside her.
And frightened Miss Muffet away!

Yes, even arachids and the horror they can wreak, invaded our subconscious as children.

And what about Old Mother Hubbard? The sweet caring mother had a sinister side:

Old Mother Hubbard went to the cupboard,
To give her poor dog a bone.
But when she got there, her cupboard was bare;
And so the poor dog had none.
She went to the baker's to buy him some bread;
When she got back, the dog was dead.

She killed the dog. The beotch!

And injuries abound in fairy tales:

One 1 little monkey,
Jumping on the bed.
One 1 fell off and bumped her head.
Mama called the doctor,
And the doctor said,
"No more monkeys,
Jumping on the bed."

See? Closed head inuries to animals. No wonder we are so twisted.

In closing, I can state hundreds of other examples, but the need to do so is not there. You get the point.

You see the damage Fairy tales can do.

I have to go now.

My son wants me to tell him a story.