shaq-tastic

Disclaimer: I am in love with Shaquille O'Neal - recall my desire to call BDR "Shaquila O'Neala." I love his giantness, I love his attitude, I love the fact that he his bed is 30 feet by 15 feet. I love the fact that he seems like a genuinely good person - getting his BA to please his mother, and then getting an (albeit fake University of Phoenix) MBA, and being a semi-kind-of police officer. I admit I've never seen Kazaam, nor have I ever listened to Shaq Fu: Da Return, but I'm sure even these wouldn't deter my love.

Plus, he's kind of good at basketball.

I don't understand why people don't like Shaq's Big Challenge. It's certainly the best thing I've seen on network TV in the past few months, and, as far as I can tell, the premise is pretty solid: there are lots of fat kids, fat kids are unhealthy and unhappy, and we should do more to make fat kids into skinny kids.

It seems the dissent comes in two forms: first, Shaq's kind of a porker himself. True enough, but he's also a professional athlete who can actually run up and down the court. I'd be more skeptical about the athleticism of fat athletes if I didn't see Charles Barkely tear up the court in a race with Dick Bavetta during last year's All Star game or the 1993 Phillies (who might not be the best example, as they didn't exactly win, but they were fat). All I know is that Shaq can make a basket over some kid's house, while I can't even make any shot from any distance, and that has to count for something. (About $100 million, if I'm not mistaken.)

The second problem people seem to have with the show is...well, that it calls some kids fat. But really, these kids are fat, and to imagine they think otherwise is ridiculous. I'm not entirely sure what the risk is of telling obese children that they need help (that is, they need to go on a diet and exercise), but our country really has a problem doing it. Is the fear that the obesity epidemic will flip to an anorexia epidemic? And is that really a valid fear?

Blame McDonalds and Hostess, not Shaq, for childhood obesity.

Anyway, the show is pretty much awesome. It shows Shaq as both this total dork who uses the same hit-my-hand-on-the-top-of-the-door-frame-and-pretend-I-hit-my-head trick over and over, who uses his fame (and size) to intimidate local bullies into leaving one of his fat kids alone, and who admits to being a sucker Dad to his kids.

In my dream world, there is a show of 8 to 10 minute clips of crazy but charismatic athletes - guys like Shaq or Charles Barkley or George Foreman - just doing normal stuff. Or complaining. My favorite part of any basketball game on TNT is when Charles Barkley starts getting cranky. Oh, well. I just have to hope ABC won't cancel this, because I'm really not sure what else I could possibly watch.

Uncle Dean

In a break from all of this duck posting...

This rather stern picture of Dean Smith has been staring me down from our desktop for about a week.

I think he's saying, "BDR, get your bottom in motion. Uncle Dean wants to run some drills."

Now, back to the ducks:

Earlier in the week, Kevin and I watched in horror as a hawk tried to eat the baby ducks. So, it was cool that for a few minutes the hawk decided his kill-perch would be right outside of our back door, but it was kind of sad to see all of the adult ducks freaking out and flying around.

I win...by a technicality

National Champion, 2007: Florida a.k.a. Puppy Goo-Goo

Kevin: You know, if it weren't for the Fetal Tarheelification Program, BDR would have won, since Florida was the overall Number 1 seed.

Yes, yes. I suppose he is correct.

With this attitude, why not just put the baby in a J.J. Reddick commemorative jersey?

(Editor's note: last phrase has been struck at the request of our soon-to-be-hired marriage counselor.)

best bracket ever

I've really been cleaning up this year in the NCAA tournament. I had three of my final four teams (while BDR had two and KJ had - eek! - one), and have the championship game as well.

Now, I need the strung-out looking Joakim Noah to pull through for me.

In Sydney Bristow news, the Final Four consisted of Puppy Goo Goo (Florida) taking down Chapel Hill (UCLA), while BDR (Ohio State) defeated the Pacific Ocean (Georgetown).

Thus, the championship game: Puppy Goo Goo versus BDR. As Kevin said, "If BDR can take on the Pacific Ocean, Puppy Goo Goo should be a piece of cake for her."

We're taking requests for next year's entries: a certain Chicago-based accountant already has nominated himself. I can only hope he doesn't have to be Duke. Or Purdue.

Bye, Bye Rameses.

baskeball: a family affair

It seems like every member of the Davis-Ross family was in a cranky mood last night during the Carolina-USC game.

Sure, the game left a lot to be cranky about, since Carolina seemed incapable of getting either a rebound or a basket in the first half. Kevin expressed his frustration by paying bills and looking at our taxes. BDR expressed her frustration by staging a sit-in in my ribcage. I expressed my frustrating by knitting yet another superfluous sweater for BDR.

Luckily, things turned around in the second half. Kevin rejoined us on the futon to watch the game, and BDR started furious, spasmodic cheering. I continued knitting the superfluous sweater for BDR.

An aside: Watching this series has been a bit of a labor of love for me. Kevin's been in rare form, easily ired by seemingly slight offenses. He really can't handle the Charles Schwab commercials (WHY DO THEY NEED TO BE ANIMATED? THIS IS STUPID! THIS DOESN'T MAKE ME WANT TO USE CHARLES SCHWAB ANY MORE THAN I DID BEFORE!) and the UPS commercials (THESE ARE THE WORST THINGS EVER! UGH! I HATE THESE COMMERCIALS! I HATE THIS GUY!).

And please don't get him started on that Roy Williams Coca-Cola commercial, in which his mother started taking in extra ironing and cleaning so he could have a dime to buy a bottle of soda with his friends. This just really pushes him over the edge.

All I can say is thank goodness Dick Enberg was not one of the commentators; Kevin might hate Dick Enberg as much as that other Dick. Kevin said, "for Dick Enberg, it's not a basketball game; it's a Norman Rockwell painting."

This was quickly followed up by, "$18.25? That's a year, not a pizza price," after ordering our dinner.

innate basketball wisdom

We've made it through the first weekend of March Madness with brackets somewhat intact. BDR's in the lead, one point ahead of Kevin, and two points ahead of me.

Which means that I'll probably lose because I said Gonzaga would beat Indiana.

Calbert Cheaney: Hubba Hubba

There are at least three things wrong with my choice. First, it's Gonzaga, which I really don't like at all. Second, it's Indiana, which I should have selected based on my alumni status and childhood crush on Calbert Cheaney. Third, the last time I picked against Indiana against my better judgement was in 2002, when they made a run to the National Championship before being downed by the awesome power of Juan Dixon.

(Also in 2002, I picked Duke to beat Indiana. But don't blame me! I was just a new Tar Heel, and my childhood crush on Christian Laettner was MUCH stronger than that on any Hoosier.)

The source of premarital counseling: my crush on CL.

But let's focus on the positive: BDR's a basketball savant!

Our Sydney Bristow tournament is shaping up as well. Some interesting Sweet Sixteen match-ups include: BDR (Ohio State) versus Troy McClure (Tennessee), Jack Bauer (Memphis) versus Borat (Texas A&M), and Kevin's postdoc adviser (Oregon) versus Dr. Manhattan (UNLV), the oddly sexual hero of The Watchmen.

My favorite match-up is Stanford McStanford (Pitt) versus Chapel Hill (UCLA). Stanford McStanford was a personality I'd developed to convince Kevin to move to California; he would periodically email Kevin with blurbs about the area, like, "it's only 300 miles to Yosemite!"

I'm hoping Chapel Hill rips Stanford McStanford limb from limb, as a sign that perhaps we'll be heading back.

the madness of March

National Champion, 2007?

Last night, Kevin and I filled out and compared our brackets. It turns out we have pretty similar picks - although Kevin's going on the Texas A&M bandwagon and has Carolina and Florida in the championship game, while I'm sticking by my boy Greg Oden and have Ohio State in the championship game, against Florida.

Naturally.

Also, it seemed only appropriate that BDR filled out a bracket of her own. Since she won't be able to make her own picks until 2009, we had to go with the professionals. That's right: BDR's bracket is just the favorites, with a few caveats: Duke must lose its first game, and Carolina must win the National Championship. It's all part of our Fetal Tar-Heelification Program (FTP).

In marginally more interesting basketball news, it's also time for our Sixth Annual Sydney Bristow Tournament of Champions. Quick backstory: in 2002, Kevin and I decided to hold a semi-pop-culture playoff of sorts, using the NCAA tournament as our vehicle. Basically, we pick 64 or 65 "things" that represent the past year, plop them in the brackets linked to the real NCAA teams, and watch our history beat itself to death.

Last year, for example, our Final Four consisted of: His Dark Materials (UCLA), Tom Kruse, Inventor of Hoveround (LSU), Charles Guiteau (Florida), and the 2006 U.S. Women's Curling Team, Calendar Edition (George Mason).

Which means, of course, that Charles Guiteau, the assassin of President Garfield, was our Sydney Bristow Champion. (We had just finished reading Sarah Vowell's Assassination Vacation.)

This year promises to be even more exciting! Really! Some entrants may be familiar to faithful readers, including BDR - who scored a sweet place as Ohio State, which is appropriate as Greg Oden is one of her fetal personalities.

Other highlights include: Ranger Kirk, Herschel Walker, Stephen Wade Chevrolet, IKEA Panzarottis, Classic Peanuts, Ice Bat, Killer Squirrels of Mountain View, Marky Mark (in The Departed), Julius Peppers, Jack Bauer, Angry rattlesnakes at Escalate National Monument, Elephant Seals, Beatrice Baudelaire, Wanda Sykes, Sexy Cylons, El Camino Real, Banana Slugs, HHR, Shaquila O'Neala/James LeBron, Butt Valley, and Borat.

Kevin and I have Puppy Goo-Goo taking it all. (I should add that Kevin picked Borat to trounce BDR in the Elite Eight. A father's love...)

thanks a lot, Dick Vitale

a vision of evil

Both Kevin and I groaned when we heard Dick Vitale name Carolina his national champion, as it is common knowledge that DICK VITALE ALWAYS, ALWAYS, ALWAYS is wrong.

In other NCAA news, why are the pundits' brackets so lame? Everyone's Final Four is three number 1 seeds and one number 2...and their number 2 is Georgetown.

(In the interest of full disclosure, I guess my Final Four is pretty top-seed heavy, too. I guess that's what happens when you have teams like Florida and Ohio State and Carolina.)

if it's March, it must be basketball...

Memo to Coach K: beating up Carolina star players will not prevent your team from sucking.

March might be my most favorite month of the year, especially when Duke starts losing clutch games.

I've kind of messed up our tournament viewing for this year, since I scheduled a backpacking trip to Point Reyes during the first weekend of the tournament. (This kind of throws a wrench in my year-long dream to start watching the tournament at like 6 a.m.) But, as Kevin has pointed out, this has been a lost basketball season. We don't get many ACC games, although we did seem to get a lot of Big 10 games in the networks' attempt to air every moment of Ohio State basketball.

Anyway, I think we will get a bunch of tournaments next weekend, which should be a small consolation. Besides, until I get that cool Dish Network watch-four-games-at-once set-up, I might never be satisfied.

Who's in Amy's Belly? Round 3: NCAA Basketball Edition

Believe it or not, I'm only 19 years old.

Baby Davis-Ross has taken on a new set of characteristics in the past few weeks - she's apparently GI-NORMOUS. Why do I say this?


- Frequent revising of BDR's ETA. Recent estimates at May 6, but it could be a week earlier.

- Frequent amazement that I can feel BDR, Kevin can feel BDR, and that we can see BDR move.

- The rather depressing news of my current weight status, explicable only by BDR's gigantism.


So who's BDR this week? How about Ohio State's mature-before-his-time Greg Oden?

Christmas, 2006

This was the Christmas That Never Ended. Every few days, Kevin and I would pull up our stakes and head out to another family to celebrate Christmas cheer (and collect some great presents along the way.)

Even Baby Shaquilla O'Neala got into the festivities. Not only the recipient of some surprise gifts, she had her own stocking and showed off her kicker's foot a few times for Kevin.

Some highlights, in no particular order:

- A huge Christmas morning at the Ross's, with all siblings and most significant others in tow.
- And, it's not Christmas at the Ross's without the Macy's née Lord and Taylor née Wanamaker's light show and the freaky Dickens Village.


- Finding out Baby Davis-Ross has a bum kidney. (This isn't really true. She's fine, but one of her kidney drainage tubes is a little big, which doesn't cause problems other than UTIs. Our doctor: "I hope I have impressed upon you how not serious this problem is.")
- Reading Kari's email updates from the Congo, which invariably involved some sort of gorilla (or was it guerrilla?) spotting, tale of woe, or mention of foul drink.
- Discovering a bag of long-forgotten TVP in our suitcase. (Which is kind of sad, since I've been looking for TVP everywhere.)
- According to the new James Bond movie Casino Royale, Ugandan war lords are surprisingly risk-averse in their investment portfolios. I suppose it makes sense.
- Deciding what Baby Davis-Ross likes, based on her movements during the activity. For example, Baby Davis-Ross likes The Sopranos, Carolina basketball, and (alas) Polvo. Baby Davis-Ross remained skeptical about real East Coast pizza though. Hmm. I've probably already fed her too much Mexican and Asian food for her to appreciate a $7 cheese pie.
- Abby Gray's Dance Class, in which Kevin was allowed to learn more about Irish dancing than I was because, "he's more Irish." True enough.
- Visiting with the Grays in Columbus.
- Seeing the whole Davis clan, even soon-to-be-members of the Davis clan, except for my punk cousins.
- Trying to convince my nephew how lame Purdue is.
- Coming home! It was great to be able to visit our families and be away for so long, but we were very much ready to get back to our own place.

Now, we have a crazy amount of work head of us, including setting up the alcove - er, nursery - for Baby Davis-Ross.

Photos are posted below, via Flickr. There are more to come, pending the arrival of our left-behind camera.

Christmas in New Jersey

Christmas in Columbus

It's alive!

My doctor seemed dubious, but I can feel Baby Davis-Ross moving around. Apparently it's a bit early to feel the baby (especially for a first pregnancy), but I'm not crazy.

Either that, or some other alien creature has taken up residency in my lower abdomen. (I hope not the one pictured below.)

Guess who's first in line for a kiss from Coach K??

Last night Baby Davis-Ross was particularly frenetic while watching the Carolina-Ohio State game. I suspect she had joined her father in protesting Dick Vitale's inherent annoyingness. Few things make Kevin Ross as mad as when Dick Vitale starts in on Duke while announcing a non-Duke game.

Which, truthfully, is a particularly annoying habit when announcing a Carolina game. It's like wearing an I Heart Al Qaeda t-shirt to a Bush fundraiser.