When I was born...

There are some decisions in life that, while relatively inconsequential, are still incredibly difficult to make.

It seems to me like many of these situations arise yearly right around my birthday.

One conundrum I encounter is the singing. Do it or not?

The Happy Birthday song is a perennial favorite around the nation since it was popularized by a hit musical in the late 1930s. You won’t see it in many movies or musicals today though, since the holders of the copyright charge an arm and a leg for it–look for characters singing “He’s a Jolly Good Fellow” instead.

Now I know I’m not a Jolly Good Fellow, but I think I might rather have that sung at a party in my honor rather than the “Happy Birthday to you” which used to get dusted off every time mom walked in with a dessert full of candles.

Speaking of birthday dessert, whether to have pie or cake on your birthday is another tough decision with almost no weight behind it.

Of course, birthday cake with candles and your family singing is an American tradition. It just wouldn’t be a party without it.

While you could stick candles in a pie, it’s much harder to get wax off of crust than it is to pick it out of frosting.

Considering that many guests don’t take to extremely sweet things, which cake with its sugary frosted goodness always is, pie may be a better option

Pie also goes much better with ice cream, another staple of the birthday party. The trouble is that you’re going to need more than one if you’re planning on having more than eight friends at your party.

But that brings up another highlight of cake, the fact that there are always leftovers.

Need a high energy snack in the next few days after your birthday? How about some cake? Feeling down and in need of a pick-me-up? I suggest cake–especially chocolate. Looking for an easy breakfast because you woke up late after your party? Cake?

There’s the sticking point though, cake isn’t nearly as good for breakfast as pie.

And with pie you can pretend you’re eating healthy because it has fruit in it. It won’t be true, but who cares, you have pie.

If you wanted to pretend to have a healthy cake you could get a carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. It’s still not quite as good as pie in the morning, but it comes close.

I know that it’s a personal preference, but I’ve always liked the texture of pie much better than cake. Where cake is spongy and soft, pie is slightly crisp with a gooey and delicious filling. If you time your party right, you can even have warm pie to complement your cold ice cream, which is much more difficult with cake.

If you absolutely can’t make up your mind, I suggest splitting the difference and making a cheesecake. Even though it includes the word “cake” it can still have that pie shape. Not only that, but you can make it as “healthy” as you want by choosing a topping from the multitude of delicious fruits or the decadent option of chocolate sauce.

If you don’t like cheesecake (are you crazy?) then you’ll be left with the unpleasant choice of having both cake and pie at your party.

Actually, that doesn’t sound so unpleasant at all. I need to get to a bakery.


Birthday Facts

There are more birthdays in August than in any other month, with July and September coming in close behind.

More people are born on Oct. 5 than on any other day, which is not surprising when you consider that their conception would have happened on New Year’s Eve. The least common birthday is May 22.

The two billion birthday cards mailed out every year make up 58 percent of the cards sent in the United States.

The biggest birthday cake ever made was created in 1989 for the 100th birthday of the city of Fort Payne, Alabama. It weighed 128,238 pounds and used 16,209 pounds of frosting.

The Cold

When you live in the northern half of the United States freezing temperatures are simply a fact of life.

A week ago a friend of mine summed up living in Wisconsin–“It ain’t upper Canada, but it’s not Maui either.”

Which is true, Wisconsin is neither Canada nor Maui and could never be mistaken for either. Well, maybe Canada, but once a person tried to go to a hospital I think they’d figure it out.

I grew up in Northeast Iowa, and lived in Minnesota for a while, so cold midwest winters aren’t really anything new, but they are to some people.

A few weeks ago for example Floridians were scrambling and preparing for temperatures that were *gasp* in the 30’s. From what I can see of folks around here, the 30’s are when it’s time to break out the spring wardrobe and start wearing cutoffs.

I’ve been wondering for a while what exactly causes this phenomenon. Are those of the southern climates smarter, dumber or just less tough than those of southern inclination. Actually, I really don’t think it’s any of those.

For years now I’ve harbored the idea that cold is really just a state of mind. Over the last two months I’ve decided that that state is Wisconsin.

It seems like not a day goes by when someone doesn’t ask me the rhetorical, “Cold enough for yah?”

If there was an answer I’d probably say yes. But lately I’ve been wondering what “cold enough” really means.

If it means that I can set fruit juice outside for two hours to make popsicles then yes.

Then again, it might mean it’s cold enough to keep my beer cold, which it isn’t. Leave beer outside in the Wisconsin winter too long and it will explode on you.

Which is really a shame since Wisconsin is also known for its beer consumption prowess. By gallon we consume more beer than any other state. Per capita we’re being beaten by New Hampshire, but that is a measurement of alcohol consumption, not specifically beer.

If Wisconsin were just a bit warmer just think of what taverns could save in refrigeration. If this were any other state they might have to worry about someone taking the beer they left outside.

Of course, the better angels of human nature tend to retreat when facing the demons of free booze; it’s a conundrum.

Speaking of angels, that’s another thing I like about Wisconsin, the churches.

While I’ve admitted before that I’m not really a church-going kind of guy, that doesn’t stop me from feeling reassured when travelling the less paved roads when I see a country church every 10 miles or so.

Also, there are bars about every 10 miles. It’s like God is really watching out for everyone, no matter what they thirst for.

What else is there to Wisconsin? Well I shouldn’t have to tell anyone about the state they live in, but there is some pretty good fishing too.

To me fishing is kind of like being in church and a bar at the same time. You get a lot of time to reflect on your life in a beautiful environment, but no one minds if you’re drinking a beer while you’re at it.

Growing up, one of my mother’s friends, a Badger State native, used to refer to Wisconsin as “God’s country” and now that I live here I’m sort of inclined to agree with her.

Of course, some days I think “Favre country” would be more accurate. I’m fairly sure that if I told people that the Packer’s number four was the second coming of Christ at least half of them would believe me.

I wonder if there’s any money in preaching? It’s a shame he’s got more of a bullet pass than a hail mary arm, that would make it easier.

It’s not the worst idea I’ve had this week. I think I’m going to call it the “First Church of Favre.” Then again maybe the “Number 4 Church of Favre” would be more appropriate.

Using the Internet to complain about the Internet. Ironic?

There are alot of reasons why I'm getting tired of the internet. One of them is probably the fact that I'm surfing the web at work too often.

This constant surfing has caused me to notice some things about internet users which are obvious to everyone. We all know that internet anonimity makes it easy for every pizza faced teenager swigging red bull and listening to Modest Moust to suddenly become a keyboard cowboy who posts irate commentary and horrible flames for sadly imagined slights.

It's a simple fact that there are too many people on the web who need a real life ass whooping to show them the consequences for not keeping a civil tongue inside your head.

But, enough of what everyone knows and on to what I've recently noticed.

The internet (among other things) has caused a false reality to rise among it's users as to the attractiveness of women. This has nothing to do with that old hot/not website, that's old hat.

No, what I'm talking about is the rampant disregard many internet users show toward relatively attractive women. They say insanely asinine things, my biggest pet peeve being the phrase "sharp knees."

Those of you who know me well know that I am a devotee of the news aggregation website Fark.com. It's users are especially vicious to women who's pictures show up with the story. The discussion forums are full of people letting everyone know if they'd "hit that" or not.

Putting aside the obvious question of "Who the hell cares what you'd hit and what you wouldn't?" I've found that internet users have unusually high expectations for female appearances.

I've been trying to understand why that is, and I can only think that a lack of real world interaction has led to a misconception about what real women look like.

I'm convinced that these hordes of unwashed young men are spending their time downloading pornography in their parents basement with a full supply of jergens and kleenex close by. They're convinced that the October playmate (or maybe the girl getting fucked by a horse) is going to walk through the door at any moment and have sex with them.

I'm not sure if the other side of the internet porn generation's insecurity is more or less sad though. In preperation for writing this column I did some chat room lurking (until today I wasn't sure that chat rooms still existed).

As disgusting as my journalistic efforts were, I found a very common trend among males (or people who claimed to be male). Pretty much everyone claimed to have a penis over 10 inches in length. The biggest claim (lie) was 20 inches.

Not that a 20 inch schlong isn't possible, but I'm pretty sure the guy who possesses such a monster has better things to do than brag about it in a chat room (star in porn videos for instance).

Meanwhile studies continue to indicate that the average male is between 5 and 7 inches when fully engorged. I feel like the only guy who's willing to admit to being average. I'm pretty sure it's somewhere really close to 6 and a half inches, but have never really felt the need to get out a ruler.

I guess my point is that it's sad. Sad that there are so many young men with views so grossly distorted. Sad that people feel the need to lie to impress strangers who they'll likely never meet in person. Sad that so many attactive women are being overlooked because of the fake titties of a legalized prostitute on a tiny screen.

Oh, a quick note: If you get paid to have sex, even on camera, even if the guy/girl/animal giving it to you isn't the one paying, even if someone yells cut every five seconds to bring in a fluffer, you're a prostitute (or sex-worker). Is there anything necessarily wrong with that? No, but don't be putting on airs like you're a movie star just because 50,000 people have seen your O-face while a Ving Rhames wannabee puts his thing where the sun don't shine.