It’s not what you know; it’s what you grow.

This is an older story, but it came up the other day and I felt it had to be shared. Hopefully I’m not being like Jude Law’s character in I Heart Huckabees with his Shania, tuna fish story.

Here's a teaser to spark your interest.

While I was going to school, I spent two summers working as a pest control technician for Orkin. There’s actually a lot of blog-worthy experiences that came out of that job, but today I want to focus on a social phenomenon I like to call “The Mustache Factor.”

After completing my five-day training course at “Orkin University,” I was feeling pretty confident. After all, I graduated valedictorian of my training class—I even have the plastic coffee mug to prove it…errr, at least I did until I lost it.

Anyway, when I first started servicing accounts, I noticed, to my dismay, that the homeowners didn’t seem to trust me. They would follow me around their houses, watching me like a hawk and peppering me with questions about what I was doing:

• Homeowner: “Are you sure you can put that there?”
• Me: “Yes”
• Homeowner: “Is that safe for my kids?”
• Me: Yes.
• Homeowner: "Are you sure?"
  
• Me: “Yes, I’m sure. I was valedictorian of my training class.”
• Homeowner: “What chemicals are you using?”
• Me: “The right ones”
• Homeowner: “How long have you been doing this?”
• Me: “Did I mention I was the best in my training? I got a friggin’ coffee mug with the Orkin Dude on it. Lay off!”
• And so on.

At first I just chalked it up to being new. “I’m not exuding confidence.” I thought. But after a month or two, it was still happening. Then, one day I had an epiphany. I was at the workers’ comp doctor’s office for a mandatory drug test. (For all of my friends that work in cushy offices/cubicles, this is a fairly common occurrence in blue-collar jobs—especially those that involve driving a company vehicle.)

As I sat in the waiting room looking at all the other blue-collar workers, it was like going back to my childhood days watching the Sesame Street segment “One of these things is not like the others.” The painters were in their paint stained-overalls, the contractors had Nextels and tape measures on their belts, the mechanics had grease-stained hands and their names on their shirts, and the landscapers had grass-stained shoes. I had my white Orkin shirt and was feeling pretty good about myself because I had my flashlight and mirror-stick on my belt, but then I noticed my failing.

As I looked around the room, every single other guy in there had a mustache. It was incredible. I realized I was missing a key status symbol for my line of work. I thought about the other guys who worked out of my Orkin office. Yep, they all had mustaches too. In fact, even the lone female pest control tech that worked there had a bit of a mustache.

Why didn’t my training cover this? Dr. Bug (as we so fondly called our our Orkin U instructor) had failed me.

I set out to correct my faux pas and immediately started growing a mustache…three weeks later I had something that vaguely resembled one.

I know this might be hard to believe, but as soon as I had a mustache all the questions stopped. People no longer wanted to know if this was just a summer job; they didn’t ask how long I’d been doing it, or even follow me around their house. I just went in, did my job and left. It was awesome!

Could it have been coincidence? No way! Just to be certain, my buddy (who I’d convinced to go to Florida and spray bugs with me) grew a mustache too. The results were almost exactly the same.

A few weeks later, my then girlfriend and now wife, told me how ugly I was with a mustache and vowed to stop kissing me unless I shaved. Off came the mustache and away went the trust. I couldn’t believe it. To this day, my buddy and I still talk about “ Mustache Power.” I even think it has something to do with why Adolf Hitler and Saddam Hussein managed to get so many followers.

What do you think?

Note: If you visit www.orkin.com, the guy on their home page is obviously not a real Orkin man. I would guess that he’s a paid model, but I can’t imagine anyone paying that guy to model. He’s most likely someone on their website design team that just dressed up for that picture so they’d have something to put on the site.

The Tools of the trade.

The downfall of the 'stache.

Unwritten Code of Conduct or Secret Society?

Since purchasing my scooter, Hidalgo, almost a year ago, I’ve taken notice of something that seems a little odd to me. As I pass the drivers of other scooters and motorcycles on the road, they often let go of the left hand grip, drop their left hand down to the side, and then do kind of a two-finger wave/salute thingy with that hand.

At first I just thought it was just one or two people waving in a weird way, but then, when it happened three times in one drive home, I started to take notice. Sure enough, it happened pretty often, and it wasn’t just the same one or two people doing it. Soon I started testing out initiating the unique wave myself. The majority of the time, the other riders will return the signal.

So my question is: Is this just some unwritten motorcycle wave?

Shortly after getting my driver's license, I noticed that when you’re driving in your car on a canyon road, a dirt road, or just a road that is generally in the middle of nowhere, nearly everyone you pass will wave at you like it's just understood that you will wave back. Is what I'm noticing now the same type of thing but for motorcycles and scooters everywhere?

The remote location wave makes sense to me. Afterall, if you're in a remote location, you want to be friendly because if you break down, that guy you waved at earlier might pass you and you want him to be friendly back. But what is the motivation for the two finger motorcycle wave?

Did it originate with motorcycle gangs and then just spread to everyone from there? Or does it go deeper? Is it some sort of secret society of two wheeled motorists and they’re checking to see if I’m a member? If so, where does this society hold meetings? Is the initiation painful? What benefits do I get? Someone please help! I need answers.

Also scooter related, I've been wondering what the public opinion is on “splitting lanes” when riding a scooter or motorcycle in a traffic jam or slow traffic. What do you think? Acceptable or rude? (No comments about dangerousness please. I don't care about that. I know it's dangerous, but is it also poor form?)

Call Me Buminicious (it might not be as powerful a begining as "Call me Ishmael", but it's a way better story than Moby Dick)

My little sister recently told me a story that’s too good not to be shared. Though difficult to believe, she swears it is true. You’ll have to judge for yourself.

My sister has friend who was doing her student teaching somewhere in the Deep South. On the first day of her kindergarten class, she was calling role and asked the students to let her know if they wanted to be called something other than what the role showed.

When she called one little boy’s name, he responded in a thick southern accent saying, “Call me by my initials.” Now in order for this story to work at all in written form, you have to imagine what that would sound like in thick southern drawl. It must have been something closer to “Cawl me buh muh ‘nicials.”

The teacher, unable to understand his words, asked the boy to repeat himself. “Cawl me buh muh ‘nicials” the boy said again.

“Buminicious?” the teacher asked, confused?

“Buh muh ‘nicials,” the boy corrected.

“Well okay then Buminicious.” And with that, incredible as it sounds, the teacher made a note on her roll that the boy’s name was Buminicious… and she called him that for the rest of the term.

The five-year-old boy was obviously too bashful to correct his teacher, but can you imagine the ridicule he must have faced on the playground? My brother was quick to point out that Bumincious is only one letter away from Bumilicious. The poor kid was almost Destiny Child’s next hit song.

Now the best part of the story…

How did the teacher finally come to realize her mistake? Well, at the end of the term she had parent-teacher conferences with the parents of all the children. When this boy’s parents came in, the teacher kept saying things about Buminicious.

Imagine if you will: “Well, Buminicious is doing well in his coloring, but when it comes time to share, little Buminicious has a hard time.”

After a couple repetitions, the boy’s mother screwed up her face and asked, “What are you calling my son?”

“Buminicious.” Replied the teacher.

The mother became a bit angry. “And WHY are you calling my son Bumincious?” she asked, raising her voice in strong Southern fashion.

Now the teacher was nervous. “Well he told me to. The very first day of class when I was calling role he said, ‘call me Buminicious.’”

The mother thought about it for a few beats and quickly came to the truth. “He said, ‘Call me by my initials.’ We call him T.J.!” Ah man, how embarrassing!

That’s where the story ends, but it doesn’t have to be where the fun ends. After all, we now have a great new word we can use, and I propose that we make the most of it. Think of it—the possibilities are endless! Examples:

• Something cool happens; you say, “Whoa! That was buminicious!”
• Your significant other is looking hot; you say, “Wow, you’re looking buminicious today!”
• And so forth.

Get creative. Post other uses here so the rest of us can benefit from your creativity. Most importantly, enjoy!

Bloggin' From a Mac

I never thought it would happen, but I now have a Mac. After the Alienware crapped out on me three times on Friday, I was able to convince Jer that I needed a new computer. Of course it was actually easier when I asked him if I could get a Mac.

For as much as I resisted, it's actually pretty sweet once you start to get the hang of it. A lot of things still feel weird, but I'm sure I'll get used to it. Plus, on the new Macs I can run windows if I need to.

That's all I really have to say... oh yeah, also, we sold our house! Wooohooo! (Not to be confused with Wahooo!, Buck's blog. I don't want him to sue me.) It only took us 10 days. We actually received two offers today. Nuts! Evidently a lot of people use www.forsalebyowner.com (or at least more than we thought).

Home For Sale

Wow, somehow committing to post at least three times a month seems to make the months go by way faster… or maybe it’s just that this month has been really busy.

Among many other things, we’ve finally decided to sell our house and get out of the Ranches. Check out the sweet site Linda made to help us sell the house: www.winegarfamily.com.

To be honest, it’s kind of bittersweet ‘cause we really like our house here and our neighbors and the area we live in, but the drive in and out just got to be unbearable. The fact that our new house will be 5 minutes from work and 5 minutes from the freeway makes it a lot more sweet than bitter I guess. Like a chocolate covered coffee bean—only instead of just a thin coating of chocolate, the bean is inside a 2 pound brick of chocolate.

We’re building, so we won’t be moving into our new house until late November or December, but hopefully we’ll sell our house way before that and move into an apartment for a few months. Either way, at least there’s a light at the end of the tunnel now.

If you know anyone that enjoys being stuck in traffic for long periods of time, or that works from home or somewhere near Eagle Mountain, please let them know there’s a great home for sale. :)

A Quiet Place to Read

I’d like to pose some questions for consideration and discussion. Now I know there aren’t too many people that read this blog, so for those of you who do, it would be helpful if you can talk to friends and family and get their opinions too.

Question #1: Do you like to read while on the toilet?

Question #2: Do you feel that reading on the toilet contaminates the book, magazine, newspaper, etc.?

Question #3: If you lent someone a book and found out they read it while on the toilet, how would you feel about it?

Question #4: If someone lent you a book they had read on the toilet, what would you think?

Question #5: If you have borrowed a book from someone else, do you think it’s okay to read it on the toilet?

Question #6: If you were in clean public restroom, and there were a magazine rack by the toilet that also looked clean, would you pick up a magazine and read it?

Question #7: What about reading in the bathtub?

My answers are as follows:

1. Always. 2. Not really, but even if it does, our immune systems need something to fight. 3. I would be fine with it. 4. Also no big deal. 5. Um, I don’t know if it’s okay, but I do it anyway. I don’t really even think about it. 6. Yes. 7. It’s the one place to read that’s even better than the toilet.

Cool Time Waster

So this is kind of a weak post to get me within my goal, but at least it will keep me from getting discouraged and giving up on the blog altogether. Buck found this sweet flash game online. Personally, I find it ironic that we need a digital version of waste paper basketball to fight office boredom. What was wrong with the real version? And how long must this have taken to make? Evidently, the guy that made this game has a really boring job.

Since Buck's the one that found this in the first place, I'll give him kudos for having the highest score thus far, but that also probably means that he wastes more time. :)

Play the game >>

Nacho Libre Extravaganza

I know I’m coming in a little late this month, but I still intend to meet my goal of at least three posts per month. If I can meet a pathetic goal like that, I might as well shut this blog down and do something else.

June has been an eventful month. There was the craziness of getting ready for eBay Live, then the eBay Live Show, Doba Movie night for Nacho Libre, and a company BBQ where we launched the Doba Fitness Challenge.

Though eBay Live was a great event, I think I was even more excited about the Nacho Libre extravaganza. I think I was probably the first person in the office to run across the preview online and it quickly circulated around the office.

Then Jer decided to have the company rent out an entire theater so we could go to it as a company. From then on, we knew it would be craziness. I had my brother pick up a bunch of luchador masks in Juarez, Mexico, we played and quoted the trailers extensively around the office, and Jer and I even staged a small stunt where he winged a cantaloupe at my bare chest during an all hands meeting.

The night of the show was sweet. A lot of people showed up in luchador costumes and we all gave ourselves Spanish wrestler names. Then we did impressions of Nacho and tried out our wrestling moves before the show started. The company even made sure that everyone had a coupon for some Nachos and cheese.

To be honest, I was a little disappointed in the show itself. It was funny, but not as funny as it could have been. Perhaps I just had my expectations a little too high. Oh well, I guess now I’ll just have to wait for Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby to see if it turns out to be as hilarious as its trailer.

We took a bunch of pics, but unfortunately most of them didn’t turn out to well ‘cause it was so dark. Here’s a couple that turned out okay:

This is Linda and I in our masks.

This is me pushing out my stomach as far as I can to try and look like Jack Black. I hope I don't really look that fat. Or if I do, I hope I won't by the end of the fitness challenge.

JerPool

I love where I work. For more info see www.ilovedoba.com. Actually, on second thought, don’t go there. I haven’t updated it in almost a year. Plus, I was trying to get it done really fast and the content there is hugely inadequate at expressing how much I really like the company I work for and the people I work with.

But I digress, I started this post with “I love where I work” because I wanted to talk about a game I often play with our CEO, Jeremy Hanks. It’s called JerPool because he invented it, but I’d like to think that I had a hand in helping to define it as a game. It’s played on a pool table with pool balls, but you don’t use pool cues.

It is loosely based on normal 8-ball; however, there are enough differences that you’ll want to read the full JerPool rules before you attempt to play. You also might want to put some padding on any walls near your table, make sure you can afford to replace your balls, and think about how important it is to you that your table looks nice—if it is important, consider if you want to re-felt your table.

We strongly believe that someday soon, you’ll be seeing JerPool on ESPN2. After all, you can only watch so much Texas Hold ‘Em before it gets really old. Plus, once you’ve watched a game of JerPool, you’ll be hooked. The sheer luck factor makes for some pretty amazing shots and exciting jumped balls zinging at opponents and spectators.

Here are some pictures I took of JerPool in our office. Unfortunately, Jer was at the dentist the day I took these:

Eric demonstrating an on-table shot.

The "backwards" rack of a JerPool break.

A great JerPool shot moves a lot of balls.

These are dents in the wall from misfired shots.

The balls suffer too. Notice the chip in the cue ball. We've even chipped the brick.



Stu demonstrating a normal JerPool Shot.

New Year’s Resolutions in May

I’ve decided that from now on I’m making my resolutions in May, May 26^th to be exact. It’s my birthday and I’ve decided that it carries more significance to me. I mean what is January 1^st to me? Just some day a pope decreed to be the first of the year. Well I refuse to let my goals be influenced by papal decree anymore! Off with the chains of papal oppression that yoke me! From hence forth, my goal making will fall on the most important day of MY life—the day I came into the world.

Plus, making goals in January has been clinically proven to be ineffective. The evidence is overwhelming, and I have the results to prove it—just look at the success rate of all my past goals. I feel I’ve thoroughly tested that method and now it’s time to put something else to the test.

I won’t share all of my May new year’s goals here, but I will list one: write more in my blog. Now, motivational speakers, spiritual councilors, and business professors all agree, goals must be specific. I guess I can see where they’re coming from. Based on my recent track record, for me to write “more” in my blog would only require me to post something every six months. Therefore, my goal is to write in my blog at least three times a month.

Yeah, it’s a pretty pansy goal since three times a month is almost nothing, but you should see some of my other goals. I’m gonna be too busy with those to have time to write in my blog all the time.

Happy new year’s to you and good luck with your goals. Also, please comment with any methods you’ve proven successful in your own personal goal setting.

Anti-Idiocy Campaign

From the title of this post, you might think it’s a rant about people who have offended me or who I think are stupid. Unfortunately, the post is really about me. This post is my vow to change...

Yesterday, I came to the stark realization that I'm an idiot. Well, maybe not all the time, but I do some stuff that's really pretty stupid. This is upsetting because I consider myself to be a reasonably intelligent person. I even feel like I have a pretty decent amount of "common sense." For some reason I just choose to ignore it on occasion.

I'm not sure why this happens. Maybe it's a cry for attention or maybe it's because I like to make people laugh, or maybe it's because I read too much Guiness Book of World Records as a kid. Whatever the case, I end up being like that "one guy" everyone seems to know who will get really drunk and then accept all kinds of ridiculous challenges and make an ass of himself. Only I don't drink, so I have even less of an excuse than that guy.

Some examples of idiotic things I've done recently?

• I ate fifteen cups of cold cereal with eight and a half cups (that's over half a gallon) of milk in under an hour. Why? It was a contest. What was the prize? Pride. Braggin’ rights. Being REALLY sick (read "having diarrhea") for the next three days.
• I sprained my right ankle playing basketball (not idiotic), but then I sprained my left ankle two weeks later because I was playing way before my right ankle was better so I was favoring my left ankle a lot. Not only did I sprain my ankle, I completely bricked the lay-up I was driving to make. (very idiotic).
• I ingested two double bacon cheeseburgers (each with a full pound of beef), a large plate of fries, a quarter pound of licorice, a blackberry shake, a slice of apple pie w/ ice cream, a bottle of Henry Weinhard's root beer, and about three glasses of water in around an hour. Why? Some guys I was with challenged me to. What did I get? A handshake from the incredulous owner of Ray's Tavern.
• I gave myself three blisters trying to prove that I was good at rappelling despite the fact that I'd never done it before.
  

Trust me; the list could go on and on. These are just things I've done in the last month. If you know me, you can probably think of plenty of other examples. In fact, you're probably wondering why it took me so long to come to this realization. I have no answer for you.

I will still try and make people laugh, and I'll probably still be an attention whore, but from now on, I'm going to first ask myself the question: Is this a stupid thing to do?