GOOOOOOOOOOOOOL!

after a 4-year hiatus, yours truly made his triumphant return to the pitch today and shared with the world the futbol gifts bestowed upon him by the almighty. in the pantheon of soccer (football, futbol) greats, there are men who require only one name: pele, beckenbauer, ronaldo, and maradona. add to that list, jeen--as in jeen yes.

ok, so there's some hyperbole at play here, but today was my first "regular season" soccer game since graduating college and let me tell you, damn was it fun. it was nice to get out there and run around, kicking a ball and chasing after it, and yelling at my less-talented, less knowledgeable teammates to do what i tell them. far greater was the satisfaction in knowing that not only had my knowledge of tactics (strategy), on field placement, and of the rules not faded in the years of my absence, but my skills (primarily passing) have not waned either.

like many all-time performances, mine was not without adversity. as many of the greats have and continue to do, i played injured, suffering through the pain in my foot due to some unknown cause (a trip to the podiatric specialist is all but certain at this point). the injury, i suspect, was sustained last weekend either while climbing a 14,000ft mountain, or in my participation in a scrimmage soccer match. in either case, i'd been hobbled all week by the malady, walking with a noticeable limp and often wincing--subconsciously--in agony as the pain shot through my extremity.

the match was a classic and i, having timed several well-placed passes and having made numerous runs on goal, was a marked man...by a kid that had obviously played in college (not intramurals like me. i mean actual college ball). the kid was good. very good. and very big. and very physical. i'd managed to avoid his charges for much of the first half, but in a freak instance during a challenge for a loose ball, his cleat connected with my foot--directly at the site of my injury.

unlike the players you've all seen in the world cup competition, i didn't fall down, writhing in pain, only to get up and sprint full speed down the field moments later. i took the jolt in stride, picked myself up from off the ground, and got back into the flow. until halftime.

injuries have a nasty habit of stiffening up during periods of non-activity and no movement. halftime, naturally, is both of these. so when the teams took the field for the 2nd half, i drug myself out there, but my foot didn't want to come.

i "gimped" my way through 35 more minutes of the pain before i'd decided i'd had enough. unfortunately, even my prowess on the pitch was not enough to single-handedly overcome a superiorly talented squad. the match was all but final (we were down 4-1), and i'd had enough.

i now have 2 weeks to heal or find out what's keeping me from demonstrating my true greatness and continuing my legacy. in the meantime, i will be practicing in my head, visualizing the next time i can show the world what a true footballer looks like: short, fat and jewish.

Pikes Peak

as promised, here are some photos from our almost triumphant climb up pikes peak. it's kind of a shame that the weather was so shitty, since the pictures would have come out much more clearly and would have given a better feeling of the awe-inspiring beauty of a 14,000 ft. mountain. but i think they came out well enough and are a collectively vibrant reminder of what a great time we had.

Pikes "peek"

PS. to view these without any written commentary, you can play this as a slideshow.

Mountain of a Man

i've driven through them, i've ridden my bike over a few of them as well. why, then, have i never climbed a mountain? good question. as of saturday, this question no longer applies to me.

flashback to wednesday evening: instant messenger pops up (note: conversation has been paraphrased to eliminate needless back-and-forth. also, i can't remember verbatim the conversation and don't really feel like copying and pasting the whole thing after looking it up).

sister: "what are you doing on saturday?"

me: "nothing really. spin class and lifting. then nothing. why?"

sister: "my friend will be in colorado and wants to know if you'd go hiking with her."

me: "sure. where does she want to go?"

sister: "pikes peak, i think."

me: "christ! she wants to hike a 14er when she's coming from the 1,000-above-sea-level midwest?

sister: "well, she's in great shape. she hikes alot around here and runs all the time."

me: "ok, have her call me and we'll talk about it."

sister: " ok. btw, she's really cute, so at least you'll have some eye candy as you climb a mountain."

me: "sweet. i hope you're right." end of conversation.

sister's friend and i talked on the phone for a bit, making plans and exchanging some personal background. she seemed cool enough and i was excited about hiking my first 14er. i didn't know what to expect regarding how we'd get along, but i was happy, nevertheless, to meet someone new and experience something i hadn't previously.

there are two distinct storylines of this tale: the interpersonal aspect, wherein i had the pleasure of meeting one of the most fascinating, sweet, and intelligent girls i'd ever met; and the physical facet of climbing a huge ass mountain.

i picked her up on saturday morning around 6am, with the expectation of arriving at pikes by 7am. unfortunately, we hadn't done our due diligence on the weather, events and other critical information and thus, hadn't realized that the pikes peak marathon was being held the day we wanted to climb and that most of the city of manitou springs was closed off to traffic, which cost us about an hour and a half just driving around looking for the trailhead. we finally hit the trail just before 9am.

if you're not familiar with mountain weather, here's a clue: during the summer, storms roll in by 2pm daily and subside sometime around 5 (foreshadowing). we'd planned for a 6 hour ascent to the summit, which sits at 14,100 or so feet. our ETA, due to our delayed start, was somewhere around or before 3pm.

we began our ascent, which was grueling from the start. i read, after the fact, that pikes is the steepest vertical climb of any of the 14,000+ foot mountains in colorado (a 7,400 foot vertical climb)...a great choice for a 1st hike. we paced ourselves wisely, stopping each 1/2 mile or so for water and to catch our breath, enjoying a "get-to-know-you" conversation along the way and during each pitstop. we stopped to eat every hour and a half, sharing the 9 energy bars we packed between the two of us, and took many pictures of the scenery (or what you could see of it - was horribly foggy) and of each other.

each mile seemed like 5 and was more physically taxing than the last. there isn't a whole lot of exciting detail to be had when telling as story about trudging uphill for 12.5 miles, other than the relationship building that occurs between climbing partners.

we shared stories about personal experiences, goals, etc., during which time i found out she's the female einstein -- a prodigy, of sorts, in analytical chemistry. and since i'd have loved an opportunity to hang out with her more, it's only natural that as my luck would have it, she also lives in ann arbor, where she's on full scholarship to complete her masters and her doctorate in chemistry at U of M. typically, people of her intellectual capacity are a bit lacking in the social skills common to more gregarious people like me. but, i was pleasantly surprised to find that she had a remarkably well-developed and well-rounded personality, complete with a great sense of humor and an ease about her when meeting someone new.

we reached barr camp, a cabin with some outhouses 6.5 miles from the summit, in decent time. a few hours later, we neared the treeline, which sits at about 12,000 feet. along the way, search and rescue volunteers warned us of a storm located about an hour and a half away, and advised against going to the summit. but since she'd come all the way from michigan and had her heart set on summiting, we carried on. we reached the treeline and headed up to 13,000 feet. finally, after imploring her for hours to turn around, the thunder rumbled, she realized that it was unsafe for us to go higher, and we began our descent. once we got back to the treeline, the skies opened, though, it wasn't rain that was coming down...it was bb-sized hail. we were 6 miles away from the nearest shelter, but thought it best to continue our trip down the mountain. we finally made it to barr camp 3 hours later, completely drenched. she apologized profusely for not listening and for putting me in danger and leading to my drenching. unbelievably, it was all i could do to smile and tell her it was okay. i wasn't in any rush and was enjoying her company.

the rain/hail finally subsided and we made our way back to the car, pushing the pace so that we were finished in just under 3 hours. all told, we spent roughly 12 hours on pikes peak....and it was one of the great experiences of my life.

for many reasons, i think i've become increasingly appreciative over the past several months of the occurrences and opportunities in my life. from this trip i left with 3 "takeaways," or lessons: i actually can do incredibly difficult things with the right motivation, i found a new friend in the world, and i learned never to fuck with mother nature, 'cause she's a bitch and she'll kick your ass.

(note: pictures will be forthcoming in the next couple of days).

Jesus did what tastes right

ah, wendy's. doing what tastes right was never so wrong. a product of my homestate, this buckeye establishment has grown to be one of the largest fast food joints in the world, supported by their traditional greasy, fattening and cholesterol-ridden food. and their music?

i was short on time and ducked into the red-headed step child's restaurant for a quick bite. given my condition, i wisely chose the grilled chicken without mayonnaise, a water, and a side salad for my meal. though it is "fast food," i certainly wasn't in any hurry to go anywhere, since all i had planned for the evening after running a few errands was relaxation. i got my order and chose the most isolated of the vacant tables.

taking my first bite into a leaf of crunchy (bagged) lettuce in my "salad," i heard a noise not common to food. it was a human voice that i hadn't noticed upon entering the restaurant. maybe my medications were causing some sort of hallucination of the audial variety? nah. i took another bite and heard the noise again. this time, however, it didn't stop. between bites i concentrated my energies on listening to what i was hearing. it really didn't take much concentration or energy, since it was now as loud as the music you hear while standing in the doorway of a nightclub.

"for you, oh lord, i lay my life down. jesuuuuuuuuuuus, save me and show me your love...." (paraphrasing, of course). at first i thought it was a fluke. maybe someone was tuning through the station dial or maybe it was just one of those "cross-over" songs we hear so much about. i continued to eat. for the next 20 minutes (i eat slowly, as it aids in portion control) the message that jesus loves me and everyone else in the restaurant poured through the speaker system at an amplitude not suited for something accustomed to playing muzak. appetite. gone.

for those who know me best, it is obvious that i found this galling and inappropriate. not only was i raised jewish, but i've developed over the years a severe disdain for all religion, the reasons for which could occupy the blogosphere in full on their own. adding to the irony was the fact that the restaurant is located just blocks from west gaza, er, the heart of denver's jewish and muslim populations (see, they can live peacefully next to one another after all. who knew?).

i've been known to raise a fuss, a mini tantrum you may say, when i feel i've been done unjustly. as annoying as the music was and as much as i can't stand religious messaging forced upon me, it just didn't merit expending energy to go talk to the manager to ask him to change it or turn it off. obviously, others had drunk their red bull today and thought differently.

2 middle-aged people, a man and a woman and presumably jewish, approached the counter and requested of the assistant manager just that. they were told that it was the manager's choice on what to play in the dining area and this manager, in particular, was fond of jehova-friendly tunes. a mini-fuss ensued and the couple stomped out angrily. i soon finished my, ahem, food and followed suit, glancing disapprovingly at the manager as i exited.

there's a time and a place for religious-based music--it's called church or in the comfort of your own car or home. where i don't have to hear it. granted, it's one thing if i have to listen to it briefly as you pull alongside me at a stoplight with your windows rolled down. sure, i'll make fun of you for being a sheep and needing constant reassurance that you're not going to hell (you won't, cuz it doesn't. fucking. exist), but nevertheless, it's your car, your space, and your choice. it's something completely different, however, to be blasting the music at death metal decibels in a restaurant where patrons have only 2 options to escape it: leave or be blessed to be deaf.

it's a great virtue of our society that people can hold their own beliefs and value what they choose. but to openly display such beliefs in public and to outwardly refuse paying customers who have expressly asked not to listen to it when they ask to have it changed or off is just poor manners. the restaurant that "does what tastes right" certainly left a bad taste in my mouth today.

Generation gap.

when i was a kid, my friends and i would run around our yards barefoot in the summertime throwing snap pops at one another because it was fun. it used to be that kids understood to play with their toys, not eat them. it used to be that the only safety measures kids really needed were a seatbelt and a few words from mom and dad.

we're now, apparently, regressing in our intellectual development. i saw tonite on the news that a group of researchers released a study showing that shopping carts are dangerous to children. amazingly, some 24,000 kids are injured throught the US annually in horrific, even tragic, shopping cart accidents. there have been similar warnings, usually around christmas, that the hottest toys of the year are dangerous to your child because there is potential that your kid could swallow a piece of said toy. amazingly, people were unaware prior to such reports.

i've watched, as many of you undoutedly have, as our society has been slowly (but not subtly) pussified over the last generation or two. shopping carts, escalators, and even toothpaste now have warning lables detailing the potential horrors of misuse. every thing, everywhere now comes with the message that you're potentially too stupid to use this item. i suppose it's not all that shocking, since we all witnessed some mental midget win millions of dollars in a lawsuit against mcdonalds for spilled coffee. regardless, it's sad that we're now so afraid of injury that even innocuous items like a set of bed sheets (pillowcase = suffocation) require detailed warnings about the numerous ways you can manage to hurt yourself.

further fueling the fear are the "reporters" bringing this "news" to us on a daily basis. it's disappointing enough to turn on the local newscast and see that a 5 year old boy was killed by his father in a police standoff (s. denver, 8/7/06) or that the people in the middle east can't quell the itch in their trigger finger with ointment. but to see such ridiculousness presented as news is, well, ridiculous. and while human interest stories are inevitably part of a newscast, a study finding that keds sneakers may have caused debilitating arthritic conditions in kids that may or may not have worn keds is not worthy of a place in the 30 minutes of airtime.

the debate about teaching evolution, intelligent design, or creation in our schools has been raging on for some time as well. but it's now a moot point, since it's obvious that evolution is the correct answer, as evidenced by the deevolution of human cognitive development. in fewer than 3 generations, we've morphed from visionaries and inventors who were making leaps and bounds in developments for all aspects of life to a bunch of mere imbeciles incapable of wiping our own asses without gashing the hole--and blaming the toilet paper manufacturer.

somewhere, charles darwin is both smiling and sobbing knowing he was right, but not foreseeing that his theory could work in reverse. of course, he'd have been here to experience all this if it weren't for that freak accident with the telegraph. if only it'd had a warning lable.