Welcome to Abu Halen.

If you listen real heard, you can actually hear the good times roll. Or at least limp. Maybe crawl.

Why Sitting is the Best, Part 1 (or "The Cost of Not Having a Tiger Mom")

Probably my favorite thing is sitting. I also like hopscotch, but I like sitting better. I like sitting best when I'm sitting and looking at something, especially if it's a picture of vikings. But, sadly, there aren't very many pictures of vikings because people aren't good at drawing vikings, which is probably because nobody really buys pictures of vikings. Which is probably why Iceland's economy tanked a couple years back.

No tiger mom to make us run windsprints (2005).
I first played competitive hopscotch in fourth grade. Before that I thought that to win at hopscotch you just had to hop in the boxes without touching the lines. But I was wrong; hopscotch involves great skill and dexterity. You have to throw that soft little disc into the squares,
and then you have to hop to the square on one foot and kick the disc off the hopscotch course, all without touching any lines, or letting the disc come to rest touching any lines, or letting your other foot touch the ground. Basically all hopscotch champions had tiger moms, and when the kid was like "Tiger mom I'm so hungry," the tiger mom was like, "You are so weak! Finish your hopscotch training and only then can you have one-eighth of a protein shake!"

I'm not going to lie -- I was kind of a natural at hopscotch. We had this tournament in fourth grade and I effortlessly destroyed my first two opponents. They were so insignificant to me that I have forgotten their names. But then my opponent in the semi-finals was this girl I had a crush on, Amber Bills. She ended up beating me, partially because I had a small case of nerves that I feel adversely affected my 'scotchin' (this is what we hopscotch aficionados call the sport), but mostly because she probably had a tiger mom and I didn't. My mom watched Moonlighting a lot, but spent surprisingly little time beating me for not practicing hopscotch enough. This is the likeliest reason for Amber Bills beating me, and also no doubt a contributing cause to Amber having a crush on Shaun Stone instead of me, although other causes may have played a role in her wayward affections, such as the fact that I wore shorts with little stegosauruses all over them, with my socks pulled up to my knees. And also I wore bifocals with Smurfs on them.

I was going to write about sitting, but I'm all worn out after mentally reliving those wild games of hopscotch back in 1988, so I'm going to make this the world's only two-part blog post about sitting and hopscotch.

A Tale of Kittens

On Moving On