Our Competitive Roots

America is defined by its competitive nature. Oh, I know, our teachers told us that America began as a handful of colonists who got angry at paying taxes on tea (of all things) and decided to tell Mother England to "Go and get stuffed." But the real impetus behind America's Declaration of Independence was a bet that Thomas Jefferson had with some uppity Englishman. Their bet arose out of a conversation like this:

Lord Uppity: I say, Thomas, you could never spark a revolution and start a new country.
Jefferson: Do you wanna' f#cking bet?

And our country was born -- a country born, not of our love for "freedom" as our president would tell us, but because we are really, really competitive.

Mark Twain -- the quintessential American who, much like a contemporary gangster rapper, tossed out his given name in order to pick something that sounded cooler -- understood very well the competitive spirit of Americans. In his short story The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County, Twain wrote of a man who would bet on anything. The moral of that story: Always give your frog syrup of ipecac before entering it into a jumping contest. Who knew?

All of the above is a roundabout way of saying that Madd Dogg and I have recently made yet another bet. And it might just be the stupidest bet that any two people have ever made:

Fidget: (Noting Madd Dogg's bag of Rold Gold pretzels) Hey, pretzels! And you got the same ones that I had the other day in the car.
Madd Dogg: Yes, except mine are the smaller, thicker ones. I like those better.
Fidget: No, they're the same thing.
Madd Dogg: No, they're different.
Fidget: Whatever.
Madd Dogg: Do you wanna' bet?

And so we did. The problem now is that I can't really remember what type of Rold Gold pretzels Madd Dogg had. I think that they were the "Tiny Twists" (one-pound bag) that you see above, but I can't remember for certain. That's ok, though. My crappy memory has turned into a truly revolutionary idea. For the first time ever, a bet will be settled on this blog in front of our entire readership! Madd Dogg, the SFZ readership awaits your response. . .

On a related note, the other day Sparky and I were talking about new-fangled sports. After briefly discussing the quickly growing "sport" of competitive eating (to be sickened, go to the International Federation of Competitive Eating), I was reminded of a sport that involved throwing a tennis-ball-sized metal ball down a winding road. After convincing myself that I must have come up with that bizzare idea in a dream, I did some reasearch: Irish Road Bowling.