Sunday, April 30, 2006

Kinda like the Oregon Trail but Not. . .

Like a dog, my father will sacrifice life and limb to feel the wind rushing over his face. I sat with a towel over my head for about 6 hours while we drove through the deserts of California, and Arizona; temperatures reaching about 100 degrees. Granted, he stopped at K-Mart so I could get sun block for my face and arms, which were critically burnt from the day before but the top wasn’t going up. I mean who doesn’t love the feeling of sweat soaked back stuck to a blistering hot leather seat?

After driving through Arizona and New Mexico I’m convinced of two things. First, the moon landing video was faked and second, there are at least three worse places to live then Waco.

In Las Cruces for the night, home of the worst karaoke singers I’ve ever heard.

Home stretch tomorrow

A thank you note

On a very serious note I’d like to thank four very special people that came and watched me graduate. My Uncle Jake who helped pay for my undergraduate tuition and always does his research into giving well reasoned advice on any academic or professional decisions. My Grandmother Charlie, who made it out of her assisted living home for the first time in many years to be with me. She takes so much pride in her only grandson that I constantly owe her my best. Then of course my amazing parents. I can’t thank them enough for making me everything I am and everything I will become. I love you all so much and I appreciate everything more then I ever show and more then you will ever know.

Saturday, April 29, 2006

Pomp and Circumstance

The stage was set on the front lawn, overlooking Malibu and the Pacific, with Catalina Island off in the distance. Slightly overcast, with a cool breeze coming from the north, Pepperdine sent me off in a blaze of glory.
Jeffery Immelt, the CEO of GE a.k.a. (the guy trying to follow Jack Welch) gave a really terrific speech. He started with funny jokes about K-Fed, Star Jones, and the Donald, followed by a description of his nearly endless power and influence. After all, being the CEO of GE he knows which case to open on ‘Deal or No Deal’. Really, he does. They gave him a Dr. of Laws degree and made a point of saying something to the effect of ‘with this degree comes all the stuff that one with this degree is entitled to do.’ The man is the CEO of GE what wasn't he entitled to?
My Religion 101 teacher, Prof. Rick Mars, was given the job of reading out 850 or so names. He went flawlessly through the entire thing, not even blowing it on my friend Grit Jirakiratervandha. That’s his name and he is my friend, you can check out myspace or facebook if you don’t believe me.
My religion 201 teacher is moving to Waco the same day I am. I believe he’s taking over something in the Baylor library. He said if I didn’t contact him he has the ability to shut off my e-mail, so I won’t f’ with him. Nice guy, great volleyball player, and good teacher. If you see Crazy Carl Flynn roaming around, say ‘hi’.
In conclusion, I sun burnt the shit out of my face, tied up all loose ends with Pepperdine and I’m done. I had an unbelievable time as an undergrad and no STD’s to show for it.

Baylor needs to get some PR people and an image consultant. I’m sick of hearing shit about Waco. Somehow it’s one of those places that nobody has been to but everyone knows about. I try to explain to people, “It’s not the middle of nowhere, it’s the middle of Texas” but most of my naïve classmates fail to see the difference.

‘Wac’ town in the morning.

Thank You & Goodnight

Today was my last day of work and what a last day it was. The California Dental Convention, the stuff dreams are made of.
Funny story. . .Background: At the Glove Club, if you buy a certain amount of dental paraphernalia we give you something to have signed by a hot shot athlete. For this convention we had Magic Johnson and Reggie Jackson. Athletes and gloves; it’s like peanut butter and jelly.
Anyway this is proof you can harass anyone if you pay them enough.

Persian Boss Lady: “Jonathan, darling, come here and let me introduce you to Michael Jackson.”
Me: (Extending my hand, slightly laughing) “Hello sir, pleasure to meet you.”
Magic: (shaking my hand) “Names actually Magic not Michael and Johnson not Jackson but for some reason she keeps calling me Michael Jackson.”
Me: “At least she hasn’t told you to get her Starbucks.”
Magic: “Yea. . . I think she sent Reggie to do that.”

I’m out of the glove business. Graduation tomorrow then off to Wacizzle.

Thursday, April 27, 2006

Don't F' with me or I'll write you a letter

Three cheers for more me! I can proudly say I gave the man a good sticking today. By ‘man’ I’m referring to the city of Beverly Hills and by ‘sticking’ I mean writing my way out of a $40 ticket.
For the cost of a $.39 stamp and 25 minutes of my currently worthless time, I went from fugitive to model citizen. If law school is about sticking it to everyone on a grand scale I can't wait. The thought of never having to admit fault is intoxicating. I sleep tonight, perchance to dream, relishing in the that fact I'll never be in the wrong again.

3 more days till the ‘W’

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

5 Reservations About Attending Baylor

1) Mail sent from Waco with time sensitive stamps took about 12 days to arrive in L.A.
-This in itself doesn’t really bother me. I just cite it as a perfect example of living in the middle of nowhere.

2) The rules of Baylor undergrad make Pepperdine look like they run a whore house.
-**Potential Rumor** A girl was suspended for posing in a bikini for Playboy. **Potential Rumor**A frat that was pictured fully clothed in that same picture was also temporarily suspended. If I felt like delving further into it I might find out some sordid details, but I care nothing for the truth.

3) With only 30 or so people in my entering class I’m bound to hate everyone.
-There is a possible upside. If in fact I find 5 people I can be friends with, that’s like a 20% friend ratio. Not many people on the facebook can say that.

4) People won’t know how cool I am simply based on the name of my jeans.
-I’m not gay, just slightly metrosexual. I like nice clothes, wine, food, travel and that kind of thing. I’m the kind of person that will pay for a designer to rip the shit out of perfectly good jeans, or wash the shirts till they have that nice ‘vintage look’. I’m all for new things but Old Navy isn’t one of them.

5) I’ll actually have to attempt intelligent conversation while drinking.
-People don’t have conversations in Hollywood. It’s a combination of name dropping, noise making and blatant lying. My old tactics won’t work. Without the safety net of loud music, starving models, actresses and singers my tactics are useless. Ask me whatever you want during class and I’ll figure out a sufficient answer. Talk to me after a drink or two and regardless of the question my answer is going to be, “I wish I could but I have to be at Brad and Angelina’s for dinner.”

Regardless, only 4 days before I start my drive.

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

The Glove Club

Put the kids to bed, grab a snack and take a seat because you are about to take a trip. . .a trip down memory lane. This is my final week of full employment at the Glove Club, (a proud division of Henry Schein Inc.) and in honor of the occasion I’d like to perform a recap of a short yet illustrious career.
Jonathan Swanburg, who would later be referred to as ‘Juanito’ was once just a young, highly recruited prospect. Corporations started courting the timid Pepperdine undergrad at an early age. What he lacked in experience he made up for with a charismatic swagger and saucy banter. The top executives at the Glove Club were smitten with the youngster. One is even rumored to have shouted “Pull out all the stops.” during a board meeting “I don’t care what it takes, we need him!” With those words the plans were set in motion. They flew him out to New York for the Thanksgiving break of his junior year. He was given first class accommodations for a working interview, and a grueling interview it was. The New York Convention was capable of bringing seasoned veterans to their knees but not Jonathan. He peddled latex and non-latex alike, displaying efficiency in both aggressive and passive selling techniques. Customers and management alike were blown away. This guy was straight out of the minors, unabashedly selling dental dams to 75 year old women, and selling them well.
After returning to school he was somewhat of a celebrity. Word had spread that there was a new kid in the glove industry and everyone was dying to get their hands on him. Fellow students would cheer as he walked past, professors would let him teach the classes. Even the President of the United States offered up his twin daughters, with a huge dowry, including a job as Secretary of State but Jonathan refused. He was a dental selling machine and he wasn’t going to let anything get in the way.
He adjusted his schedule to graduate in three and a half years. School no longer had anything to offer him. There was enormous fanfare on his first day of work. People lined the streets holding signs and waving. He was the next big thing and the expectations were huge. There was a valet waiting when he pulled into the office parking structure and he directed the young star to the private elevator to avoid the paparazzi. That first ride was symbolic of his career, only lasting for a mere 6 floors.
There was no applause as he stepped in the office. There was no real greeting to speak of. He was slow to pick up the intricacies of the computer system and the reporters jumped on his every mistake. His boyish charms were lost over the phone. Rather then being awed by the confidence in his eyes they were detracted by his subtle lisp and occasional stutter. He was detested by customers and failed to sell even the lowliest evacuator tip. On the drive home, he could see women and children crying on the side of the road in disappointment. He could never reclaim his confidence and his sales suffered. He put up unimpressive numbers and the executives were crushed. They pressured the boy to step up his game but the magic was lost. The glory and promise of his college days had led only to mediocrity. He continued to attend the conventions but things only continued to get worse.
It was the infamous Thomas Hinman Convention of ’06 that finally shattered the poor boy. He was no longer selling but pleading. Customers were buying out of pity for the person that once was. The rock bottom came when he arrived home. “Some dork lied to me at the convention!” exclaimed an irate customer. “I don’t remember his name but this guy was a real dork!” ‘Juanito’ as his Mexican coworkers had called him, knew he had been that dork. As the only male at the Glove Club booth it was undeniable. He was speechless. How far had he fallen? Mere dental assistants and hygienists were belittling him. The child star had joined the ranks of Mcaulley Kulkin, and Gary Coleman resorting to a life of drugs and depravity.
The pressure of the office was too much for him. As he fell to the bottom of the stat sheet he concocted a plan to quit. The center of Texas was still isolated from the paparazzi and several years behind on current events. Their most recent coverage still spoke of a dental sales prodigy that represented the great hope for the future. Still reeling from the days of David Koresh, Waco was in need of a pick me up. Jonathan knew of their plight and seized the opportunity. Through discrete negotiations with the Dean, he was admitted without taking any of the required tests and was automatically appointed as Editor in Chief of Law Review, and Captain of the Trial Team.
By the time news of his failure as a glove salesman reached Waco it no longer mattered. As the greatest student Baylor had ever seen, he was once again admired by students and faculty alike. There were no paparazzi to immortalize him in the pages of Us or People but he didn’t care. He was content at being a local hero and learned from his mistakes at the Glove Club.

First and foremost I’d like to make it very clear. If you want a really good blog that describes what it’s like to be a Baylor law student read ‘So The Bear Says’ by Chris Fahrenthold. He is the writer my mother wishes me to be.
Secondly, I have no aspirations of being a journalist, writer, or even the least bit insightful. What I do want is good grades and a job. Therefore I don’t plan on bashing any individual that might actually be offended, or influential in my life. That’s about it for ground rules.

Although this is only the start I must start venting the loathing I feel toward my newest creation. Shakespeare was full of shit when he implied names don’t matter. Trying to name a blog is complicated. I started out by knowing a few things.
1) My name is Jon
2) The school’s name is Baylor
3) The mascot is a Bear
4) ‘So The Bear Says’ is already taken

I wanted to use the word ‘Bear’ in the title. Primarily because I’m unoriginal and there was a blogger already using it successfully. I went through every clever, pithy statement I could imagine when my gay coworker started talking about ‘’. (I'd normally add a hyperlink but here it seems inappropriate) In homosexual terminology a bear is a big, hairy, gay man. Granted, I’m not big, gay, or hairy but I don’t want to be giving my viewers the wrong idea. So after several hours I'm still here, "So the Bear Says" is still taken, and every other statement I think up now sounds gay.