Now That’s Quality Television…
Wednesday, July 29th, 2009 | Life Update | 16 comments
There I was, minding my own business when my friend Shawn texted me with an important business proposition (all important business transactions are done via text message these days—in fact the current proposed 1000+ page Health Care bill was originally submitted as a series of 15,172 text messages). “Would you be willing to do a TV interview?” he asked. Now, to the average Joe, this might seem like an off-the-wall question, but when you’re as famous as I am these TV spots are a regular thing. My television debut happened at the ripe age of seven when I was featured during the closing credits of the local news fishing on free fishing day (I caught a carp, which sadly was not caught on tape—I used worms). That experience was followed a mere 10 years later by my very own commercial wherein I recited a poem I had written for a contest/school assignment commemorating the likeliest of subjects: “Black History Month”.
My response, naturally, was to promptly forget about the text. In fact, I’m pretty sure I forgot about Shawn entirely there for a few days… I’m sure I was doing something highly important at the time, like signing autographs or participating in a celebrity charity fund-raiser. No, really, I was more likely than not getting ready for a round of disc golf and I can’t exactly let myself get distracted from my game, otherwise it throws of my groove and then Tyler beats me, and we can’t have that happening, now can we?
So we golfed. And I’m sure I won. And I forgot about said TV interview. Then a week-or-so later I ran into Shawn and he again asked about my willingness to be interviewed. Turns out Shawn works for a local cable provider and has the responsibility of coming up with programs they can air on one of their stations. He came up with this idea for a show where they interview, as Shawn put it, “important, influential locals…” he paused, looking for the right words, and I started to feel highly flattered/important/influential, as he continued, “…and really really opinionated people.” Suddenly it all makes a little more sense. And so I, slightly-dejected/highly-opinionated/non-imporant-or-influential Rob Martin took the gig.
The day of the interview came and we talked about really exciting topics including the recession, independence, and old people. Sadly, though, we didn’t even get into topics I felt particularly opinionated about. Topics like: my shipping container dream home, library book detectors, or Poland. Still, it’s a start. I’m sure my public will be pleased.
The Summer of Eventful Summer Events
Saturday, July 4th, 2009 | Life Update | 9 comments
Do you ever get that feeling that there’s never enough going on? That you wish you had more to keep you occupied? Yeah, me neither. It’s been an eventful summer. A busy summer, but good busy. Here’s a taste of whats been going on:
- Playing Frisbee Golf (every Saturday and often once or twice during the week as well)
- Taking advantage of the bear market
- Being told by a grumpy old man “You give me heartburn.”
- Star Trek (One of the best movies I’ve seen in the theater)
- This. →
- Receiving a not-so-subtle gift from my mother: “Dating for Dummies” (thanks, mom!)
- Tinfoil dinners, shish kebabs, grilled corn, and dutch oven peach cobbler
- The end of a drought
- Suddenly becoming self-conscious of my bottom lip
- Curry
- Playing Oregon Trail with my Barium-drinking friend and only losing one of her children to the eagles
- Camping with Kellendric
I just pulled out the calendar and scheduled out the rest of my summer months. There are plenty more adventures to come…
hopefully more heartburn too
Vacationeering in Grand Canyon Style
Monday, June 15th, 2009 | Life Update | 9 comments
Sometimes you just have to get away from the stresses of life—the daily grind of work, snoring roommates, the multitudes of adoring fans—and work on your chaco tan. Last week was just such a time and so I headed down to Havasupai with some friends, acquaintances, and complete strangers for a long-needed chaco vacation.
Havasupai (literally translated: “you hiked all that way for this?!?”) is an Indian Reservation in the Grand Canyon that bears the designation of being the only place in the US where they deliver the mail by way of mule train. This might mean something if it weren’t for the helicopter that makes 20+ runs daily into the village. Apparently using the mules for their mail transit is more a matter of principle than practicality (by principle I, too, prefer my postcards to smell of hairy beasts of burden).
Getting to the trailhead meant driving through Boulder City where my parents live and where we stopped for a church/food break. (True story: In navigating us to my parents house I was near flawless. That is to say, I got us all the way there only to incorrectly identify the next-door neighbor’s house as that of my mom and dad. In my defense though my dad had parked his very distinguished van next-door so it wasn’t really a fair test …and my parents say I don’t visit often enough… pfft) Leaving Boulder City we crossed Hoover Dam while listening to the Transformers soundtrack and looking in awe at the bridge they are building there. I was driving the lead vehicle by this point and happened to look in the rear-view mirror as we were coming within sight of the bridge just in time to see Jessie who was driving the second car as her eyes got really big and she mouthed the unmistakable words: “That is SO COOL!”.
Monday morning we hiked in. I was wearing my backless chaco zongs (scandalous, I know) and they held up beautifully. Supai village was just as I remembered it, with no signs of the ravaging flash-flood that had swept through last year. This was not the case when it came to the campground, however. Almost all of the trees were gone, leaving most of the campsites with very little privacy. It was kinda like a refugee camp, complete with people lining up at the one fresh water source to fill up. Annie says I need to be more positive on my blog though so I will say this, I am SURE it was just like a refugee camp. No, really though, it was a… um… really NICE refugee camp. Anyway, we kept hiking to the far end of the campground where the trees seemed to be less disturbed and were fortunate to find an isolated spot to set camp.
I mentioned the village was just as I remembered it. This was actually my second trip to Havasupai. On my first we spent a good deal of our time discussing how filling Taco Bell Chicken Quesadillas were (answer: surprisingly filling) and guessing the letters on overturned scrabble tiles two at a time: “L & X?” “Nope, E & F” “Um… R & M?” “Close, V & H”. Fortunately we had much more important items on the agenda this time… like learning the correct usage of the term “cute”. I never realized before this trip how much meaning such a small word can contain. For example, If Girl A is talking about Girl B and she says, “She is so cute” she is really saying Girl B is her good friend. This, however, shouldn’t be confused with “She is SO CUTE” (translation: “She is probably the nicest person I know”) and DEFINITELY does not mean the same thing as “She is so CUTE” (literally: “She has the personality of a lima bean”). 
Other highlights included hiding our supreme jealousy as we made fun of Jessie & Annie for bringing 3” thick sleeping pads (click their names to read their highly-biased accounts of the trip), learning about the art (yes, it is an art) of composting, and helping Annie to like—or at least to not be so uncomfortable with—physical touch.
All in all, it was a good trip, but as good as it is to get away from it all it’s always good to come home
…so long as I can find it.
Rob’s Love Issues Explained
Tuesday, April 7th, 2009 | Crazy Ideas | 10 comments
Through the years the world has seen its fair share of individuals who have ventured to teach us about love: from John Lennon to Dr. Laura, Tom Hanks to Meg Ryan, Miracle Max to …Yoda? That’s right, Yoda. Little, furry, big-eared Yoda. Lest you unjustly label me with some uncalled for name-calling lets set the record straight: I am not some Star Wars Geek. I’m really a much bigger geek than that. You know, the kind that wears sock-suspenders and not-so-secretly wants to live in a shipping container (it’s the new tuffshed). No, really, Star Wars has nothing to do with this. Yoda was my cat.
We got Yoda when I was just a little tyke. I don’t remember being a part of the naming process but Martin family lore holds that we named the cat Yoda because he was ugly, balding on the ears, and resembled the Jedi Master himself. Ugly or not, I loved that cat. I’d nicely pet him, he’d nuzzle up next to me, and sit on my lap. We’d even nap together as documented by this undisputed photographic proof (which also doubles as evidence of what a cute kid I was).
Years later I read a book called The Five Love Languages. The premise of the book is that there are different love languages (quality time, words of affirmation, gift giving, acts of service, and physical touch) and we each have our own preferred language in which we both “speak” our love and “hear” love being communicated to us. The book further claims that many problems in relationships are the result of a couple not speaking each others’ love language. While this definitely falls under the category of pseudo-psychology it’s a theory that I accept as it is one that makes a lot of sense.
Reading the book it didn’t take me long to figure out I was a physical touch guy. The book says you can usually trace your love language to your childhood but when asked my mom she says she didn’t remember me being particularly touchy/cuddly. And then it hit me: Yoda. I learned my love language from the cat.
Somehow I always end up dating girls who have ridiculous love languages like words of affirmation. Words. Pfft. I don’t do words. Maybe that explains my stellar luck in relationships thus far in life. After reading The Five Love Languages, though, I’m confident I’ll be able to work through any differences in love languages I have with the girls I date…
…providing they have a cat, of course.
The Dark Side of Disneyland
Tuesday, March 17th, 2009 | Life Update | 15 comments
For the record I voted for the cruise. Somehow, however, last week I found myself in Disneyland with family. (I’m still not sure exactly how it happened but I’m not convinced drugs weren’t somehow involved) I know, I know, Disneyland is the last place anyone would expect to find me. I’ve long held that when I have kids I’m going to tell them that Disneyland is a myth, just like Santa Claus, leprechauns, and allowance. Really, though, there was no getting around it. My family last visited Disneyland during the Clinton Administration. Apparently we have some unnatural obligation to attend every time a Democrat is elected President (and you wonder why I vote Republican), and so, like good Patriots, off we went.
The trip was… revealing. We have all heard how Disneyland is the “Happiest Place on Earth”. Even all those football players on the old TV commercials made us believe going to Disneyland was all they wanted to do after winning the Superbowl. Football players? Advertising where you want to vacation? Football players aren’t even bright enough to pick a career that doesn’t consist of getting pummeled, yet we trust them when it comes to vacation advice? We should have been better prepared. What we discovered in sunny California was a dark dark world. It all began with…
Rabid Children – Everywhere we looked in the park we saw little kids with sharp pointed teeth. Those that weren’t busy snarling were devouring oversized turkey legs. Fortunately, most parents had enough sense to control their offspring within the park via child leashes. To avoid the children we subjected ourselves to…
3D Shooting Games – Our family quickly discovered Toy Story Midway Mania, an interactive game where you ride in a cart and shoot 3D darts at various targets in an attempt to rack up as many points as possible. We learned that this relatively-new ride has been extremely popular and due to that they are planning on creating a new series of similar interactive rides. “Extremely popular” may be the term they are using in the Disney boardrooms but I’d say “Horrendously Addicting” is more accurate. We met one individual who had come to the park for a short visit and found himself still there 30 days later, riding this one ride over and over. Another rider we met comes to the park four days a week and likewise spends all his time on this one ride. Sadly my own mother became another hapless victim. I haven’t seen that level of addiction since Tetris came out on the NES. It wasn’t even enough to wait in line together to ride… she had us take advantage of the Single Rider (read: Dysfunctional Family) line to get as many rounds in as possible. If anyone knows of a Toy Story Midway Mania Addicts Support Group that my mom can attend let me know. The horrors of addiction were only surpassed by…
Small World – Only prisoners in Guantanamo, residents of the Great White North, and those who have experienced the Small World ride at Disneyland know what real torture is. Fortunately I remembered enough of the horror from my first trip to Disneyland to give this ride a large berth. While my family all rode together I ate food and arranged to meet them out of hearing range of the horrible horrible ride. I am one to easily get songs stuck in my head and hearing one repeated over and over in dozens of different languages at high volume by dancing dolls doesn’t exactly help that unfortunate tendency. This horror was unmatched until…
Discover Your Disney Character – In this interactive feature you can answer questions that will reveal which Disney character you are most like. Sounds harmless, right? Yeah, I was fine with it until my mother was revealed to be Ariel. I’ll never be able to look at seashell-clad Little Mermaid in the same way ever again. And just when the nightmares had finally stopped.
I Owe it all to Oatmeal
Thursday, March 5th, 2009 | Crazy Ideas | 12 comments
Ever have one of those days where the light bulb suddenly goes on and you know your life will never be the same? Today was one of those days. Every morning at work I eat a bowl of oatmeal. Why oatmeal? To be honest I don’t really even like oatmeal. They claim it helps reduce cholesterol but thats not the reason either. I don’t care beans for my cholesterol level. I eat it so that I get more than one meal a day. I’ll often work straight through lunch or only have a few bites of chips and salsa so breakfast is kind of a necessity to survive. Alas, I digress. My revelation was this: why chew? All oatmeal is is a sticky mass of tiny flakes. Chewing just seems like overkill. From now on I’m just swallowing my oatmeal straight up.
Life just got that much better…
What has it got in its pocketses?
Tuesday, March 3rd, 2009 | Favorites | 8 comments
You might think that a discussion on what Rob has got in his pockets would be dull and far from blog-worthy but you’d be wrong. On many occasions I’ve filled an entire date’s worth of conversation with the sole subject being the contents of my pockets. Even the great JRR Tolkien filled some 1000+ pages answering that very question. And then for all those people who were too busy to read it they made an abbreviated (read: 11-hour) movie adaptation of JRR Tolkien’s answer to that question starring Elijah Wood.
I know what you’re thinking… “But why you?” “How were the dates?” “Why am I reading this?” “Where’s Elijah Wood?” This entry is a continuation of my Favorites series where I share with the masses a choice product, word, (no, not that kind of choice word), or maybe if I am feeling really generous, a person. With that said may I present…
The money clip. I’m a minimalist. I think things should be kept as simple as possible. There was a time when I carried around a standard George-Costanza-esque wallet full of random papers, cards, even breath mints. That was all fine and good until you went to do something silly like, oh I don’t know, sit down. As fun as it is parking your caboose on a big lump, I decided there had to be a less lopsided solution. I found it in the money clip. The one I have is called the “smart clip”. The curvy clip is to hold cash while it has room for six cards on the opposite side. I wasn’t satisfied with the clip as it was though. Like any good man I took it upon myself to make the clip even better. I hammered out the curvy metal piece straight and flush with the back, thus halving the width from near 1/2 inch to less than 1/4 of an inch, yet still allowing you the option to slip cash or receipts there as needed.
Its awesome. The part that holds the credit cards is slightly tapered which means it doesn’t require all six cards in order for the rest to stay. Even one card will stick in there just fine. The only downside is sometimes its too small, and I won’t realize if its slipped out of my pocket. Still its great; one of the most satisfying buys I ever made. It helps you minimalize by making you choose the most important cards to carry. Of course, there you go again… thinking out loud, “What ARE the most important cards to carry? Oh, tell us Robert…”
If I must. Here’s what I carry in my money clip (aren’t I a giver?):
The Drivers License – recognized in all 49 states (I stopped recognizing Wisconsin AGES ago… we should gift them to Canada)
American Express Costco (Cotsco) card with bonus picture – Thats right, a picture of ME! On a credit card! A delightful combination, I know. I’ve always felt my face deserved to be on currency.
Credit Card – Not as cool as the one with my picture, but one of those with an insanely good cash-back program.
Library Card – Like that one famous guy with that one famous quote, I believe that which changes us are who we’ve met and the books we’ve read… thus I carry my Library Card… also, its got a cool picture of a cartoon frog reading, get this, a book! Unexpected, I know.
Restaurant Gift Card – Good for a free meal and for carding my way into places in *cough* emergency situations.
Insurance Card – mostly a remnant of my mole-removal days.
There you have it: my coveted second endorsement. Sure, this one was free, smart clip, but the next one is ‘a gonna cost ya… especially when it comes time to make the Elijah Wood movie adaptation.
Recession Update
Friday, February 27th, 2009 | Crazy Ideas | 12 comments
I’m not really into things that are trendy or mainstream. Facebook? Pfft. Fashion? Puh-leese. Personal hygiene? Whatever. Lately it seems this so-called global recession is all anybody can talk about. Despite all the press its getting nobody really has much nice to say about it. Thus, after some lengthy consideration I’ve decided not to participate in the recession. Thanks anyway!
Why Everyone Should be a Genealogist
Sunday, February 8th, 2009 | Family | 10 comments
I’m my family’s genealogist. I’m pretty sure they think I have this weird interest in dead people or that I was destined to this role due to being named after my two grandfathers (both of whom were family historians). It really goes much deeper than that though: I don’t want to end up marrying one of my cousins.
I remember growing up my dad telling me about how he had a kissing cousin. I don’t quite remember the details of all that entailed, nor, frankly, do I care to recall the specifics, but it definitely left an impression. I never really had any close relationships with my extended family though, so I thought I was safe.
I thought wrong. While on a double date with my roommate, we figured out through some fine detective work that my date was second cousins with my roommate (he was really glad I was the one taking his newfound cousin out and not he). This was just a warning. A few months later, I was talking to a good friend of mine. She is a family history major and when she mentioned one of her ancestors I recognized the name. Turns out we are 6th cousins. Add to that some of the latest tv episodes I’ve been running into and this has turned into a near epidemic…
In short, knowing how you’re related to people may slim your dating pool, but I hope you’ll agree that is not a bad sacrifice to make.
Timeless Fashion
Saturday, January 31st, 2009 | Favorites | 10 comments
I’m an old man at heart. Between my affinity for family history, an early-to-bed/early-to-rise attitude, and my regular aches and pains, I’m probably better suited for an old folks home than the student housing I now live in. Of all my old-timer characteristics, however, there is just one that stands out and really defines me: Cardigans.
I love cardigans. They’re warm, look sharp, and are, well, simply and utterly fabulous. Sadly, though, they are underappreciated by my generation. I guess thats what you get when your poster child is Mr. Rogers. Without question the best way to convert to the cardigan cause is to go out and buy one but perhaps for now a history lesson on fashion’s crowning jewel will suffice:
History of the Cardigan (unabridged)
377,537,322 – 320,679,982 BC (approximate) – Mount Cardigan, 43°38′58” N 71°54′51” W, is formed thanks to the Acadian orogeny. It was one rockin’ party…
1855 – Lieutenant General James Brudenell, 7th Earl of Cardigan, returns from the Crimean War. The cardigan, supposedly worn by him on his campaign (and receiving its name after him), became fashionable following his glorious return from battle.
1856 – Lord Cardigan is defamed after the true story of his participation in the Crimean War is told. He still looks fabulous.
1968 – Mr. Rogers first asks America “Won’t you be my neighbor?” He asked Canadians the same question in 1963 but they decided the answer was “No” after giving him three seasons. They must have heard that rumor about him wearing cardigans to cover tattoos running up his arms.
1992 – A Swedish pop group is started who call themselves “The Cardigans”. Among their finer hits are “I Need Some Fine Wine and You, You Need to be Nicer” and “Your New Cuckoo”. Their undisputed hits propell them into international stardom.
2007 – Rob joins the world of Cardigans. The world rejoices.
