RIP: The Weekly Eckstra
by “Weird” Dave Borchardt
Special to the Weekly Eckstra
Jason will attest to the fact that I tend to be an “I told you so” type guy.
With this in mind, it was I who offered a word of caution to Jason months ago when he held an informal contest to name his newly founded weekly blog column. In all fairness, I liked “The Weekly Eckstra” (though it wasn’t my submission), but was worried the title would insinuate, just slightly, that his column would be…well…weekly.
Jason is the eternally happy Clark Griswold driving in his family station wagon endlessly down life’s road of good intentions. I, on the other hand, am the grizzled guy in the orange safety vest picking up dead animal carcasses on the same road: thus, I think it’s safe to say we can pronounce “The Weekly Eckstra” in the same category as Jason’s Wedding Webpage (which I am convinced is still out there in cyberspace, somewhere waiting to be updated) and the time in 1996 that Jason took us to what he described as a Missouri “beach” which turned out to be what I would describe as a very, very large boat launch covered with sand and gravel (but mostly gravel) on a cold, dark lake.
At this point, you may be saying out loud, “what’s with all the Eckert bashing?” and I mean no such disrespect--after all, I, myself am the king of moderately conceived ideas that fell way short (case in point, the senior year “pie” incident).
In place of the unfulfilled promises of The Weekly Eckstra, there is a ray of hope, however. We are privy to, on a semi-regular basis, a great deal of banter about local sports teams, family visits and home improvement updates. Pure entertainment to me (as I’ll try to establish), but somehow lacking the unique wit and comedy value of “Balloons are Gifts from the Devil” without a bit of explanation.
Allow me to expand upon some of Jason’s recent blog topics to demonstrate:
If you do visit Jason’s family weblog from time to time as I do, you’ll note the backyard has been just as big a story as Michael Jackson’s death in passing weeks. To some, just another verse that could be part of the song “Ordinary Average Guys” by Joe Walsh, but to me, pure comedy gold. Upon reading the updates some may muse to themselves, “Man, that’s a big patio—wouldn’t you rather have some wonderful, lush grass for the kids to play in?”
Having lived in the greater Miami Valley for two years, few may realize that house builders in the area have a habit of scraping away all the topsoil and building new houses on almost literally gravel, bedrock and the giant plate of Uranium that most of Ohio is positioned over (check your basement for Radon, Jason). The result is a yard maintenance situation that is similar to trying to grow grass on concrete. Jason, being an intelligent guy, has realized and brilliantly avoided this problem and surrendered to the inevitability of a backyard of dead grass and removed most of his grass himself. There’s enough rock, paving stones and mulch now in his backyard that, if he were close to a sports venue, he could charge $25 a car to park in his back yard and on his patio.
Local sports teams: have you visited your local “AA” minor league ball club lately? If you have, you might say to yourself, “Why, Jason? What’s the big deal about taking the family to the Dayton Dragons?” Again, having lived in the Dayton area, you may not realize the Dayton Dragons play in a league more akin to professional wrestling than baseball—a visiting pitcher was arrested for assault during a game a couple years back. No joke. The trial just ended. To boot, the Dragons play in downtown Dayton a place you definitely do not want to be after dark. Half of the houses in Dayton are abandoned and at least one is burnt down on almost a nightly basis. Again, knowing Jason’s jovial personality, I have no problem picturing him offering career assistance advice to a robber as he is being mugged. Hilarious. (In all fairness, the Dayton Dragons do put on a pretty good family show inside the ballpark.)
Finally, topics near and dear to my heart: visits by Jason’s relatives. I don’t know very much about Cari’s family except what I read in the blog (I also assume they probably hate my cat). Jason’s family on the other hand is of real concern to me because, based on my indiscriminately obnoxious behavior as a juvenile while a guest in the Eckert home, I have no doubt when I pass from this life into the next, Sandy Eckert will be the one calling numbers at the DMV-like office at the gates of paradise. The updates about Sandy and Leo are less about comedy for me and more about personal safety: knowing they’re in Dayton allows me to pinpoint locations and stay far away. I know Sandy is a sweet and kind mother and grandmother, but I also know payback is hell.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I finally submit to you there have been as many “guest” columns on The Weekly Eckstra than columns by Jason himself. The Weekly Eckstra is dead, but that’s OK. It’s spirit will live forever in backyard parking lots and in between the gunfire outside the ballpark in downtown Dayton.
by “Weird” Dave Borchardt
Special to the Weekly Eckstra
Jason will attest to the fact that I tend to be an “I told you so” type guy.
With this in mind, it was I who offered a word of caution to Jason months ago when he held an informal contest to name his newly founded weekly blog column. In all fairness, I liked “The Weekly Eckstra” (though it wasn’t my submission), but was worried the title would insinuate, just slightly, that his column would be…well…weekly.
Jason is the eternally happy Clark Griswold driving in his family station wagon endlessly down life’s road of good intentions. I, on the other hand, am the grizzled guy in the orange safety vest picking up dead animal carcasses on the same road: thus, I think it’s safe to say we can pronounce “The Weekly Eckstra” in the same category as Jason’s Wedding Webpage (which I am convinced is still out there in cyberspace, somewhere waiting to be updated) and the time in 1996 that Jason took us to what he described as a Missouri “beach” which turned out to be what I would describe as a very, very large boat launch covered with sand and gravel (but mostly gravel) on a cold, dark lake.
At this point, you may be saying out loud, “what’s with all the Eckert bashing?” and I mean no such disrespect--after all, I, myself am the king of moderately conceived ideas that fell way short (case in point, the senior year “pie” incident).
In place of the unfulfilled promises of The Weekly Eckstra, there is a ray of hope, however. We are privy to, on a semi-regular basis, a great deal of banter about local sports teams, family visits and home improvement updates. Pure entertainment to me (as I’ll try to establish), but somehow lacking the unique wit and comedy value of “Balloons are Gifts from the Devil” without a bit of explanation.
Allow me to expand upon some of Jason’s recent blog topics to demonstrate:
If you do visit Jason’s family weblog from time to time as I do, you’ll note the backyard has been just as big a story as Michael Jackson’s death in passing weeks. To some, just another verse that could be part of the song “Ordinary Average Guys” by Joe Walsh, but to me, pure comedy gold. Upon reading the updates some may muse to themselves, “Man, that’s a big patio—wouldn’t you rather have some wonderful, lush grass for the kids to play in?”
Having lived in the greater Miami Valley for two years, few may realize that house builders in the area have a habit of scraping away all the topsoil and building new houses on almost literally gravel, bedrock and the giant plate of Uranium that most of Ohio is positioned over (check your basement for Radon, Jason). The result is a yard maintenance situation that is similar to trying to grow grass on concrete. Jason, being an intelligent guy, has realized and brilliantly avoided this problem and surrendered to the inevitability of a backyard of dead grass and removed most of his grass himself. There’s enough rock, paving stones and mulch now in his backyard that, if he were close to a sports venue, he could charge $25 a car to park in his back yard and on his patio.
Local sports teams: have you visited your local “AA” minor league ball club lately? If you have, you might say to yourself, “Why, Jason? What’s the big deal about taking the family to the Dayton Dragons?” Again, having lived in the Dayton area, you may not realize the Dayton Dragons play in a league more akin to professional wrestling than baseball—a visiting pitcher was arrested for assault during a game a couple years back. No joke. The trial just ended. To boot, the Dragons play in downtown Dayton a place you definitely do not want to be after dark. Half of the houses in Dayton are abandoned and at least one is burnt down on almost a nightly basis. Again, knowing Jason’s jovial personality, I have no problem picturing him offering career assistance advice to a robber as he is being mugged. Hilarious. (In all fairness, the Dayton Dragons do put on a pretty good family show inside the ballpark.)
Finally, topics near and dear to my heart: visits by Jason’s relatives. I don’t know very much about Cari’s family except what I read in the blog (I also assume they probably hate my cat). Jason’s family on the other hand is of real concern to me because, based on my indiscriminately obnoxious behavior as a juvenile while a guest in the Eckert home, I have no doubt when I pass from this life into the next, Sandy Eckert will be the one calling numbers at the DMV-like office at the gates of paradise. The updates about Sandy and Leo are less about comedy for me and more about personal safety: knowing they’re in Dayton allows me to pinpoint locations and stay far away. I know Sandy is a sweet and kind mother and grandmother, but I also know payback is hell.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I finally submit to you there have been as many “guest” columns on The Weekly Eckstra than columns by Jason himself. The Weekly Eckstra is dead, but that’s OK. It’s spirit will live forever in backyard parking lots and in between the gunfire outside the ballpark in downtown Dayton.
Jason's Reaction: Okay, Dave has a point. Calling the column weekly was foolish. I would argue that the "Eckstra" is not dead . . . but is also most certainly not weekly. Perhaps monthly, quarterly, or whenever someone submits a quest column. I actually do have some ideas to publish in this space. The "Eckstra" will be dusted off -- but won't be weekly. Thanks, Dave, for the creative piece and good natured ribbing. The basement is, by the way, Radon free, and the pie incident (during which Dave stuck a pie in the face of "legendary" teacher Chris Mess at DeSmet) remains one of the funniest moments of high school. My mom, by the way, does love Dave (and loves him even more states away from her grandchildren in Houston). :)
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