red sox, white sox and tigers. oh my! in the past 5 years, some of baseball's most tortured franchises have broken through their various respective "curses" to earn a birth in, and eventually win the world series. the 2004 boston red sox won after having not won since 1918. the chicago white sox last year won after waiting since 1919. and this year, the detroit tigers have earned their spot in the fall classic after a 22 year absence.
only 3 seasons ago, the tigers were 1 skinny "L" short of setting an all-time mark for futility. now, they're on the verge of winning one of, if not the most, prestigious title in team sports. the 22 year drought since their last title sure enough must have seemed like a century. and while my fandom lies elsewhere within the MLB, my hatred of the st. louis cardinals and the new york mets are enough to compel me to root on the tigers to a championship, since "the d" was my home for 5 years.
but while 22 years pales in comparison to the 80+ year struggles of the others, all three fail to record a blip on the radar of my beloved chicago cubs, whose world series title drought will enter it's 99th year when spring training breaks in march of 2007.
each spring brings renewed hope and excitement that "this is the year." each fall ends in utter disappointment as my team turns in another lackluster, uninspired effort. i resort to the practice sports polygamy, the legal loophole to real polygamy, where i foresake my undying love for my cubs and adopt a "b" team for whom to root. as 2006 ended with another gallactically unsuccessful cubs effort, i went against conventional wisdom and the rules of beinga a fan and actually adopted 3 "b" teams. and against my better judgement and purist view of the game, i picked 3 american league teams: the A's, the Twins, and the Tigers--collectively known as "anyone but the yankees."
more importantly, having chosen 3 out of the 4 teams in the AL as my "b" team, i stood a 75% chance that my new team would make it to--and win--the world series, so i could experience the thrill of being a winner, since my real team doesn't seem much inclined to gift me that sensation themselves.
as i sat in the (smoke-free) bar this afternoon with my die-hard tigers fan friend watching magglio ordonez belt a walk off, series-winning home run, my enthusiasm and excitement for the win were tempered by the eternal knowledge that my beloveds were watching it too....from their couches.
i'm looking past 2007 and into 2008, which will mark the 100th anniversary of the cubs' last world series. it would be a magical and memorable moment if, for once in my and others' lifetimes, i didn't have to root for someone else. in the interim, i'll be watching the fall classic as i do each year, living vicariously through another fan base, and cheering with 50% of my heart for the motor city kitties to bring home the crown. go tigers.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Sack of Shit - Editorial
boulder, co is known for being an odd place. the home of the university of colorado (and my good buddy CJ) is a beautiful locale often referred to as "27 square miles surrounded by reality." the city is extremely liberal, very progress, and a bit off-beat. here you'll find a mix of trustafarians, techies, an abundance of recreational athletes...and a criminal hacky sacker.
the very city that in the 90's attempted to pass a referendum legalizing marijuana while simulateneously banning public smoking (yes, on the SAME ballot measure) feels that while a little weed may be harmless, a friendly game of hacky sack is a public nuisance and a threat.
a 17 year-old boulder high school student was hanging out with some friends on the pearl street mall, enjoying a little sack. er, hacky sack (hey, it is boulder, so you never really know). after mistakenly kicking the little bean bag past a friend, the kid was approached by a cop and issued a, get this, $250 ticket for public nuisance! worse, this "offense" requires a court date for the boy to answer the charges against him. so, of course, he'll have to miss some school to tend to his newfound legal troubles.
for a society that constantly bitches about overcrowded jails, overworked courts and understaffed police forces, we sure do find new and creative ways to exacerbate these problems by creating ridiculous scenarios like this one.
the stated purpose of virtually all police forces is to "protect and serve." but theoretically, shouldn't we be protected from things we actually need protection from? you know, like robbery, rape, murder and other crimes actually worthy of police attention and public outcry? boulder residents were shocked, annoyed and a bit disgusted with this publicized incident. and rightfully so. sure, boulder is wrought with pretentious rich people who are the only ones that can afford to live comfortably in an overpriced housing market. but even they deserve to have their tax dollars used wisely and appropriately.
the kid is going to fight the citation and, sadly, he will lose because the ordinance governing the pearl street mall prohibits throwing, launching, or forcefully maneuvering objects while on the mall property. the tragedy in this is that we're constantly harping on our young people to stay away from drugs, alcohol and other unhealthy or illegal activities, yet once they do find a benign, safe alternative we punish them with disproportionate force. ain't that a kick?
the very city that in the 90's attempted to pass a referendum legalizing marijuana while simulateneously banning public smoking (yes, on the SAME ballot measure) feels that while a little weed may be harmless, a friendly game of hacky sack is a public nuisance and a threat.
a 17 year-old boulder high school student was hanging out with some friends on the pearl street mall, enjoying a little sack. er, hacky sack (hey, it is boulder, so you never really know). after mistakenly kicking the little bean bag past a friend, the kid was approached by a cop and issued a, get this, $250 ticket for public nuisance! worse, this "offense" requires a court date for the boy to answer the charges against him. so, of course, he'll have to miss some school to tend to his newfound legal troubles.
for a society that constantly bitches about overcrowded jails, overworked courts and understaffed police forces, we sure do find new and creative ways to exacerbate these problems by creating ridiculous scenarios like this one.
the stated purpose of virtually all police forces is to "protect and serve." but theoretically, shouldn't we be protected from things we actually need protection from? you know, like robbery, rape, murder and other crimes actually worthy of police attention and public outcry? boulder residents were shocked, annoyed and a bit disgusted with this publicized incident. and rightfully so. sure, boulder is wrought with pretentious rich people who are the only ones that can afford to live comfortably in an overpriced housing market. but even they deserve to have their tax dollars used wisely and appropriately.
the kid is going to fight the citation and, sadly, he will lose because the ordinance governing the pearl street mall prohibits throwing, launching, or forcefully maneuvering objects while on the mall property. the tragedy in this is that we're constantly harping on our young people to stay away from drugs, alcohol and other unhealthy or illegal activities, yet once they do find a benign, safe alternative we punish them with disproportionate force. ain't that a kick?
Monday, October 09, 2006
I'm SAD
it happens every year. fall comes after summer just like the calendar says it will. i love the fall. i love the cool, crisp weather, the changing colors of the leaves and how they cover the moist grass once they've fallen from their perch on the tree branches.
of course, fall also means more humidity (welcome in this part of the country), shorter days, clouds. lots of clouds. lots of gray, gloomy, blanketing clouds that block the sun and leave it only a memory in the minds of those that bask in its glow nearly year round.
today is the first truly gray day of autumn in 5280 and i'm suffering tremendously. my chief complaint when i lived in the midwest was how cold, gray and dank the climate was. so, i packed up and moved to sunnier climes of the rockies. certainly, california and arizona would have been wise choices as well, but denver receives 320 days of predominant sun per year (technically more than both san diego and miami. trailing only phoenix and tucson); perfect for someone, even your resident genius, at the mercy of seasonal affectional disorder (note: this disorder was a "disorder" way before erectile dysfunction and restless leg syndrome. those are euphemisms for old guys with no sex drive and for crazy people that can't control their legs. they're not real disorders. they're the psychosomatic issues of the clinically insane).
so i'm sitting in my office on one of the 6 gray, gloomy days we experience a year, struggling to get to the end of the day so i can go home, light some candles and experience bright light. i've completed the minimum of my workload and am battling the constant urge to rest my head on the desk and take a nap--or to just leave for the day.
it's great to know that this will all be over by thursday, but just getting TO thursday will be a chore. send me some warm thoughts to break my funk.
of course, fall also means more humidity (welcome in this part of the country), shorter days, clouds. lots of clouds. lots of gray, gloomy, blanketing clouds that block the sun and leave it only a memory in the minds of those that bask in its glow nearly year round.
today is the first truly gray day of autumn in 5280 and i'm suffering tremendously. my chief complaint when i lived in the midwest was how cold, gray and dank the climate was. so, i packed up and moved to sunnier climes of the rockies. certainly, california and arizona would have been wise choices as well, but denver receives 320 days of predominant sun per year (technically more than both san diego and miami. trailing only phoenix and tucson); perfect for someone, even your resident genius, at the mercy of seasonal affectional disorder (note: this disorder was a "disorder" way before erectile dysfunction and restless leg syndrome. those are euphemisms for old guys with no sex drive and for crazy people that can't control their legs. they're not real disorders. they're the psychosomatic issues of the clinically insane).
so i'm sitting in my office on one of the 6 gray, gloomy days we experience a year, struggling to get to the end of the day so i can go home, light some candles and experience bright light. i've completed the minimum of my workload and am battling the constant urge to rest my head on the desk and take a nap--or to just leave for the day.
it's great to know that this will all be over by thursday, but just getting TO thursday will be a chore. send me some warm thoughts to break my funk.
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Smoker's Cough in Amish Country
i have a wicked bad case of insomnia, hence the double post today. 2 points of randomness before i hit the hay and make a real attempt at sleep:
random point #1: who the fuck shoots amish people? the rash of school shootings in recent years has left most of us a little more desensitized to such mindless violence than we would like. but the most recent shooting somewhere in lancaster county, PA (i've been there, but couldn't even tell you what part of the god-forsaken state it's in. actually, since so many amish live there, can it really be "god-forsaken?" what's the opposite of god-forsaken anyway? god-blessed? god-inhabited? i don't know.) really caught me by surprise. amish people make furniture. and butter. and jelly. and they pray. alot. so who the fuck would shoot them? i don't get it. there are plenty of subhuman citizens trolling about the public school system throughout the country. why not shoot them? is it because they'll shoot back? probably. weird
random point #2: a much happier and much more random point. the "thank you for smoking" dvd is out. hallelujah. it might just be the best movie of my lifetime. except maybe for anything jon favreau has done. or christopher walken. what's with that guy anyway? he's weird, but i love imitating him. kevin pollack is better at it than i am. but that's 'cause he gets paid to do it. i don't. anyway, buy the dvd.
i'm off to slumber. hopefully i don't have any weird nightmares about being killed by a bunch of mutated serial killers and some random blogger setting up dolby digital surround sound in my room.
random point #1: who the fuck shoots amish people? the rash of school shootings in recent years has left most of us a little more desensitized to such mindless violence than we would like. but the most recent shooting somewhere in lancaster county, PA (i've been there, but couldn't even tell you what part of the god-forsaken state it's in. actually, since so many amish live there, can it really be "god-forsaken?" what's the opposite of god-forsaken anyway? god-blessed? god-inhabited? i don't know.) really caught me by surprise. amish people make furniture. and butter. and jelly. and they pray. alot. so who the fuck would shoot them? i don't get it. there are plenty of subhuman citizens trolling about the public school system throughout the country. why not shoot them? is it because they'll shoot back? probably. weird
random point #2: a much happier and much more random point. the "thank you for smoking" dvd is out. hallelujah. it might just be the best movie of my lifetime. except maybe for anything jon favreau has done. or christopher walken. what's with that guy anyway? he's weird, but i love imitating him. kevin pollack is better at it than i am. but that's 'cause he gets paid to do it. i don't. anyway, buy the dvd.
i'm off to slumber. hopefully i don't have any weird nightmares about being killed by a bunch of mutated serial killers and some random blogger setting up dolby digital surround sound in my room.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Me Chinese, Me Play Joke
"me chinese. me play joke. me go pee pee in your coke." those are the words to a never-unfunny children's chant. well, it was never unfunny when i was a kid anyway. it seems, however, that as we get older, our sense of humor changes quite a bit, though the lyrics adjust only slightly. try "me post worker, me play joke. me go pee pee in your....coffee?"
in the lovely town of akron, ohio, a 50-year old man was sentenced to six months jail-work release for pouring, you guessed it, urine into the coffee pot at work.
for months, a disgruntled postal worker (SHOCK!), thomas shaheen, sneakily poured urine into the office coffee pot and stood by idly as his co-workers ingested the scrumptious concoction (or is it concocktion?). the workers soon realized that their morning cup o' joe had an extra jolt to it, and reported the activities to their supervisors, who promptly ordered an investigation. naturally, as with all government agencies, the investigation resulted in no action being taken. so the workers installed a hidden video camera and caught shaheen in the act.
after being sentenced and ordered to pay $1200 to each of the victims (you'd have to pay me much more than $1200 to drink piss in my coffee), shaheen's lawyer indicated that his client was frustrated with his work, hence the vile act. when was the last time a postie wasn't frustrated with his work?
now, i've hated virtually every job i've had. in fact, i've actually disliked most of the people i've worked with, for one reason or another. but no matter how strongly i disliked someone, nor how much i hated my job, i'd never resort to relieving myself and then pouring it the morning coffee pot. "accidentally" cancelling someone else's print job right ahead of an important meeting to make them look bad? yeah, i'd do that. but i couldn't imagine going so far with my dissatisfaction as to dumping my mellow yellow in a pot of black. why is it always the posties that do the crazy shit? what's the worst thing you've done at work?
in the lovely town of akron, ohio, a 50-year old man was sentenced to six months jail-work release for pouring, you guessed it, urine into the coffee pot at work.
for months, a disgruntled postal worker (SHOCK!), thomas shaheen, sneakily poured urine into the office coffee pot and stood by idly as his co-workers ingested the scrumptious concoction (or is it concocktion?). the workers soon realized that their morning cup o' joe had an extra jolt to it, and reported the activities to their supervisors, who promptly ordered an investigation. naturally, as with all government agencies, the investigation resulted in no action being taken. so the workers installed a hidden video camera and caught shaheen in the act.
after being sentenced and ordered to pay $1200 to each of the victims (you'd have to pay me much more than $1200 to drink piss in my coffee), shaheen's lawyer indicated that his client was frustrated with his work, hence the vile act. when was the last time a postie wasn't frustrated with his work?
now, i've hated virtually every job i've had. in fact, i've actually disliked most of the people i've worked with, for one reason or another. but no matter how strongly i disliked someone, nor how much i hated my job, i'd never resort to relieving myself and then pouring it the morning coffee pot. "accidentally" cancelling someone else's print job right ahead of an important meeting to make them look bad? yeah, i'd do that. but i couldn't imagine going so far with my dissatisfaction as to dumping my mellow yellow in a pot of black. why is it always the posties that do the crazy shit? what's the worst thing you've done at work?
Monday, October 02, 2006
I've atoned
hooray for yom kippur! day of atonement for jewdom (a.k.a. judaism) and day of no food or water....for those who choose to fast. i, however, don't. i'm above it. i've already been grandfathered in, so what's the point really? i mean, by virtue of being born as one of the chosen ones, i get a free pass to heaven regardless of whether or not i practice, right? hope so. otherwise, i'm kinda screwed.
some backstory about why i turned my back on my religion, in bullet points:
-the stories from the bible are unbelievable. case in point--why on earth would moses walk all the way up a damn mountain to carry down a stone tablet when god just as easily could have thrown it down? it's not as if god would break it. he's infallable, remember? keeping with moses, why is HE the only guy in the history of time to be able to split an entire sea by simply sticking a staff in the ground? david blaine can levitate, yet he's not worshipped as a great historical figure or prophet.
-our holidays suck. seriously. christians got this one right. eat, drink and be merry. give gifts, sing and get fat around a fire. jews? yeah, we effed this one up pretty badly. passover we give up all leavening agents (i.e. bread, bagels, cereal and anything else with taste) and we're forced to eat shitty symbolic foods like charoset (that's yiddish for mix of sweet, salty and crappy stuff). yom kippur? yeah, well, we just give up all food and water for that one. at least on yom kippur we're not permitted to work. strike one against me. chanukkah is just silly. a bunch of jewish parents felt badly that their kids didn't get all the cool presents the christian kids did, so they started giving gifts too...one on each of the 8 crrraaazzzzy nights. woo hoo! oh, and there's no such thing as a chanukkah bush. just to let you know.
-kosher. who was the genius to come up with this one? oh, right. god and his prophets. damn. kosher means no shellfish (fine with me. i'm anti seafood), no pork, no mixing meat and milk (say goodbye cheesburger), and having everything in your house blessed by a rabbi. c'mon, do pickles really need to be blessed?
-friday night sabbath. so, why is the jewish god the only one that took his rest day a day and a half early? smart or lazy? you decide.
-language. granted, the christian religions (all 657 of them) originated in either latin or german. but each of those languages is easily learned/understood by anyone currently speaking a romance or germanic language. we and the muslims both goofed on this one. hebrew and arabic. different alphabets (ours doesn't even have VOWELS) and you read right to left. no wonder everyone converted to something else.
-calendar. i don't even know what year it is on the jewish calendar. they started it way, way, way before the christian calendar (for obvious reasons) and never reset the damn thing from zero. so, 2006 is something like 5767. that's too many years to keep track of. but, on a lighter note, it does make me feel younger.
so, my religion is nutty. it's kinda silly, actually. hence the reason i don't practice or pretend to do so. but, i'll bet yours is pretty funny too....which is why i don't believe in it either. l'chaim!
some backstory about why i turned my back on my religion, in bullet points:
-the stories from the bible are unbelievable. case in point--why on earth would moses walk all the way up a damn mountain to carry down a stone tablet when god just as easily could have thrown it down? it's not as if god would break it. he's infallable, remember? keeping with moses, why is HE the only guy in the history of time to be able to split an entire sea by simply sticking a staff in the ground? david blaine can levitate, yet he's not worshipped as a great historical figure or prophet.
-our holidays suck. seriously. christians got this one right. eat, drink and be merry. give gifts, sing and get fat around a fire. jews? yeah, we effed this one up pretty badly. passover we give up all leavening agents (i.e. bread, bagels, cereal and anything else with taste) and we're forced to eat shitty symbolic foods like charoset (that's yiddish for mix of sweet, salty and crappy stuff). yom kippur? yeah, well, we just give up all food and water for that one. at least on yom kippur we're not permitted to work. strike one against me. chanukkah is just silly. a bunch of jewish parents felt badly that their kids didn't get all the cool presents the christian kids did, so they started giving gifts too...one on each of the 8 crrraaazzzzy nights. woo hoo! oh, and there's no such thing as a chanukkah bush. just to let you know.
-kosher. who was the genius to come up with this one? oh, right. god and his prophets. damn. kosher means no shellfish (fine with me. i'm anti seafood), no pork, no mixing meat and milk (say goodbye cheesburger), and having everything in your house blessed by a rabbi. c'mon, do pickles really need to be blessed?
-friday night sabbath. so, why is the jewish god the only one that took his rest day a day and a half early? smart or lazy? you decide.
-language. granted, the christian religions (all 657 of them) originated in either latin or german. but each of those languages is easily learned/understood by anyone currently speaking a romance or germanic language. we and the muslims both goofed on this one. hebrew and arabic. different alphabets (ours doesn't even have VOWELS) and you read right to left. no wonder everyone converted to something else.
-calendar. i don't even know what year it is on the jewish calendar. they started it way, way, way before the christian calendar (for obvious reasons) and never reset the damn thing from zero. so, 2006 is something like 5767. that's too many years to keep track of. but, on a lighter note, it does make me feel younger.
so, my religion is nutty. it's kinda silly, actually. hence the reason i don't practice or pretend to do so. but, i'll bet yours is pretty funny too....which is why i don't believe in it either. l'chaim!
Monday, September 25, 2006
When the Saints Go Marching In
hyperbole runs rampant in sports. every game or match is a battle (with kellen winslow, jr. of the cleveland browns the main "soldja!"), the final seconds are always "do or die," there's "tremendous sacrifice" among players, and teammates trust the guys they "go to war" with. now, i'm a die-hard sports junkie but even to me, on most nights, the overstating of importance on a sports game by the announcers (have they really gotten THAT much worse over the past 10 years?!) and by the players in post-game interviews is not only aggravating, but often insulting to soldiers or heroes from other walks of life.
tonight, however, the importance and impact of a football game could not be overstated. after we all witnessed the sheer destruction of one of america's most renowned cities a little more than a year ago, the new orleans saints returned home to the superdome, site of some of the more embarrassing and saddening scenes during the katrina fiasco, for the first time in nearly 2 years.
everyone knew it'd be a big deal. i, for one, figured that somehow the network (ESPN) would make a complete circus of it and ruin the nostalgia and poignancy of the event. all week, the hype was built through all modern media. websites previewed the game and offered slideshows of the devastation juxtaposed with images of proud, rowdy fans gearing up for the game. highlights and analysis shows on all stations, not just ESPN, had wall-to-wall-blow-out-the-budget coverage, and radio dj's (even the ones on FM) were getting geeked for the showdown.
the run-up was tremendous....and we were all poised for a HUGE letdown. media contingencies, non-football fans, and celebrities alike descended upon the completely rebuilt superdome in the "big easy" for the welcome home celebration. kickoff was set for 8:30ET, but a delay was inevitable.
the opening montage was touching, recapping the utter annihilation of the crescent city. the schools, churches, clubs and virtually every free-standing building was destroyed by either the winds or the flooding. rhapsody, the music service, is sponsoring the "music rising" program,which is funding the replacement of instruments and studios destroyed by the hurricane, offered its own lowlights of new orleans' famous music scene affected by the disaster. it was all very sad, disheartening...especially knowing how little the government did to help anyone.
the mood shifted from sadness to pride and hope, as U2 and Green Day--2 bands neither of which i'm a huge fan--took to the stage setup at midfield. they sung some of their more recognizable hits, but changed the lyrics (predictably) to include mentions of new orleans and the surrounding areas. as cheesy as some of it may have been, it set off a string of emotions in me that i didn't know i had. music has a funny way of eliciting memories and thoughts one may otherwise supress. i felt the hair on the back of my neck raise a bit, followed by a wave of goose bumps as Bono and Billy Jo and the Edge chanted "here come the saints." for the first time, the phrase "this puts everything into perspective" that commentators are so fond of was ACTUALLY true.
the perspective here is that in the face of unspeakable tragedy, much like 9/11, sports offer a diversion, if only for 3 hours. they are an escape from the harsh realities we live. as importantly, the rebuilding and refurbishing of the superdome was a symbol of a city on the rebound. sure, the $185 million spent to fix the cornerstone of new orleans' convention and toursim industry could very well have been better spent on more police, firefighters, teachers, and other rebuilding efforts. but the value the rebuilding effort holds is completely immeasurable. new orleanians had, for the first time in 15 months, a safe place to gather and enjoy themselves.
the superdome is an icon, recognized by millions around the world as an architectural marvel. renovating and rebuilding it first was the smartest thing gov. blanco and mayor nagin could have done, as it put a familiar face on the city and kept the national spotlight on new orleans, where it should be. it will take years, maybe decades, for the remainder of the city and the region to be restored as closely to its original self as possible. in the interim, incremental steps, even symbolic ones like the superdome project, will make the remaining work a bit more tolerable and a bit less ardous.
my NFL allegiance resides in cincinnati. but tonight, even the most ardent homers were saints fans, and it was a bittersweet sight to see them go marching in.
tonight, however, the importance and impact of a football game could not be overstated. after we all witnessed the sheer destruction of one of america's most renowned cities a little more than a year ago, the new orleans saints returned home to the superdome, site of some of the more embarrassing and saddening scenes during the katrina fiasco, for the first time in nearly 2 years.
everyone knew it'd be a big deal. i, for one, figured that somehow the network (ESPN) would make a complete circus of it and ruin the nostalgia and poignancy of the event. all week, the hype was built through all modern media. websites previewed the game and offered slideshows of the devastation juxtaposed with images of proud, rowdy fans gearing up for the game. highlights and analysis shows on all stations, not just ESPN, had wall-to-wall-blow-out-the-budget coverage, and radio dj's (even the ones on FM) were getting geeked for the showdown.
the run-up was tremendous....and we were all poised for a HUGE letdown. media contingencies, non-football fans, and celebrities alike descended upon the completely rebuilt superdome in the "big easy" for the welcome home celebration. kickoff was set for 8:30ET, but a delay was inevitable.
the opening montage was touching, recapping the utter annihilation of the crescent city. the schools, churches, clubs and virtually every free-standing building was destroyed by either the winds or the flooding. rhapsody, the music service, is sponsoring the "music rising" program,which is funding the replacement of instruments and studios destroyed by the hurricane, offered its own lowlights of new orleans' famous music scene affected by the disaster. it was all very sad, disheartening...especially knowing how little the government did to help anyone.
the mood shifted from sadness to pride and hope, as U2 and Green Day--2 bands neither of which i'm a huge fan--took to the stage setup at midfield. they sung some of their more recognizable hits, but changed the lyrics (predictably) to include mentions of new orleans and the surrounding areas. as cheesy as some of it may have been, it set off a string of emotions in me that i didn't know i had. music has a funny way of eliciting memories and thoughts one may otherwise supress. i felt the hair on the back of my neck raise a bit, followed by a wave of goose bumps as Bono and Billy Jo and the Edge chanted "here come the saints." for the first time, the phrase "this puts everything into perspective" that commentators are so fond of was ACTUALLY true.
the perspective here is that in the face of unspeakable tragedy, much like 9/11, sports offer a diversion, if only for 3 hours. they are an escape from the harsh realities we live. as importantly, the rebuilding and refurbishing of the superdome was a symbol of a city on the rebound. sure, the $185 million spent to fix the cornerstone of new orleans' convention and toursim industry could very well have been better spent on more police, firefighters, teachers, and other rebuilding efforts. but the value the rebuilding effort holds is completely immeasurable. new orleanians had, for the first time in 15 months, a safe place to gather and enjoy themselves.
the superdome is an icon, recognized by millions around the world as an architectural marvel. renovating and rebuilding it first was the smartest thing gov. blanco and mayor nagin could have done, as it put a familiar face on the city and kept the national spotlight on new orleans, where it should be. it will take years, maybe decades, for the remainder of the city and the region to be restored as closely to its original self as possible. in the interim, incremental steps, even symbolic ones like the superdome project, will make the remaining work a bit more tolerable and a bit less ardous.
my NFL allegiance resides in cincinnati. but tonight, even the most ardent homers were saints fans, and it was a bittersweet sight to see them go marching in.
Friday, September 22, 2006
Love and Sex - A Brief Review
it may be a bit effeminate for a straight guy to watch a chick flick. but every once in a while, one may stumble upon a movie that can transcend its atomic estrogen rating and reach new heights: a damn good film. earlier this week, this happened to me.
though it was actually the second time i'd seen it (stumbled upon it 2 years ago while channel surfing), "love and sex" (2000) is a great script disguised as a chick flick. ordinarily, i'd not give watching it a second thought, but a movie starring one of my favorite actors, jon favreau (before he began looking like he ate the old jon favreau) and the dutch uber milf goddess famke janssen is worth a try.
the film is a refreshing and honest look at the intracacies and psychological games of, well, love and sex. it follows a struggling journalist as she attempts to produce a piece on loving relationships. sadly, as she recounts her many failed trials in love, she questions whether she's even qualified to write on such a topic. any human worth the air he breathes can relate to at least one part of the film, whether it be the doting (yes, doting. look it up), the cheating, the make up sex or the essence of "timing," to name a few.
certainly those that enjoy the typical romantic comedy will like it, but even those that frequently watch dramas, action or artsy foreign films will appreciate a story wrought with sarcastic, clever humor and wit...which just may be why it appeals so strongly to this jeen yes.
though it was actually the second time i'd seen it (stumbled upon it 2 years ago while channel surfing), "love and sex" (2000) is a great script disguised as a chick flick. ordinarily, i'd not give watching it a second thought, but a movie starring one of my favorite actors, jon favreau (before he began looking like he ate the old jon favreau) and the dutch uber milf goddess famke janssen is worth a try.
the film is a refreshing and honest look at the intracacies and psychological games of, well, love and sex. it follows a struggling journalist as she attempts to produce a piece on loving relationships. sadly, as she recounts her many failed trials in love, she questions whether she's even qualified to write on such a topic. any human worth the air he breathes can relate to at least one part of the film, whether it be the doting (yes, doting. look it up), the cheating, the make up sex or the essence of "timing," to name a few.
certainly those that enjoy the typical romantic comedy will like it, but even those that frequently watch dramas, action or artsy foreign films will appreciate a story wrought with sarcastic, clever humor and wit...which just may be why it appeals so strongly to this jeen yes.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
1+1= 3
the time has come for me to fulfill my academic potential. i decide a few weeks back, along with my good friend cj, that it was time, finally, to head back to campus and pursue the ever-so-valuable MBA.
over the past couple of weeks, i've been haphazardly studying the sample materials that typically appear on the GMAT, perhaps the worst test ever invented by man, by dedicating exactly half my attention to said samples. naturally, the remaining 50% has been dedicated to people watching while i'm "studying" at my local bookstore/cafe. this week, however, my studies kicked into high gear as i spent the better part of 2 hours per night for 4 nights reading through monotonous lessons and attempting to solve sample problems--with a mere 15% of my attention dedicated elsewhere. not bad for an ADD-head.
while i've been adequately balancing my new job, my addiction to the gym, and my nightly study sessions, i've realized a few things:
realization #1: this college go-around is far more important than my first. this time it actually DOES matter where i go and how i do. there won't be any fraternity parties, though there will surely be plenty of young, tanned and toned coeds. there won't be any "weekends start on thursdays" mentality and, to a lesser degree, there won't be nearly the level of identification with my institution (point of order here, i went to EMU, a school with which i was too embarrassed to truly identify myself. instead, michigan was my identity, as it's a superior school with superior athletics to boot).
reality #2, i suck at math. i mean i REALLLLLLLLY suck. actually, i don't suck. i'm below "sucking" on the math chart of suckiness. i was terrible at math in both high school and in college. now, i've forgotten all the stuff i was so terrible at. so, basically, i have to work my way back to sucking just so i can potentially move beyond that and into the "mediocre" category. fun times.
observation #3: no matter how hard the coursework may be, school is infinitely more entertaining/satisfying than working. i've never been excited about a job. ever. in fact, even the jobs i didn't hate, i still hated simply because i hate working. i'm aware that an MBA will simply lead me to a higher level of job that i may hate, but hell, at least it'll be a nice 2-3 year break from waking up at 6am every morning, heading to an office, and having to fulfill obligations that really hold no interest to me. on the other hand, even knowing how effin hard a graduate program in business will be, i couldn't possibly be more excited about it. aside from pondering how on god's green earth W managed a degree from an ivy league school, my own post-secondary education occupies my mind the most. and chicks. man, how i love chicks. especially the ones with the.....ok, another time.
new fact #4: i'm an ego-maniac and a narcissist. i never really thought much about it before, but it's become increasingly clear to me lately that one of the true leading factors in my decision to go to grad school is that i have a big ego and that i want recognition above and beyond that of others. before, an MBA was just something "i've always wanted to do for myself." now, it's something i kinda need to do to satisfy the craving to have 3 letters after my name and to compete with my friends who possess post-secondary degrees (though only a handful claim MBA's). i also like to be seen with my GMAT book in public. it makes me feel important knowing that the other schlubs in my locale aren't trying to better themselves which, in the end, means i'm better than them. i'm not saying it's a good reason to go (it's not the primary one, so don't worry), but i'm okay with it. anything that furthers my love for myself is fine by me.
pensamiento final (final thought): money really DOES make everything better. i've worked a lot of jobs. i've never made a lot of money. hell, most of the time i'm making just enough to get by. and i grew to hate and/or resent each job over time. now, while an MBA is no guarantee of a high-paying job, it does increase the likelihood of receiving a nice offer over another candidate with a simple bachelor's degree, which means that even though i'm certain to eventually loathe that job too, at least i'll have the financial means to buy a slice of happiness. or a slice of pizza. mmmm, pizza.
so, in the coming year, i plan to leave the undergraduate world a bitter, job-loathing, poverty-stricken individual and emerge in MBA land an egotistical narcissist with money, 3 letters after my name, and i'll be better than 85% of you. can someone cosine on my loan?
over the past couple of weeks, i've been haphazardly studying the sample materials that typically appear on the GMAT, perhaps the worst test ever invented by man, by dedicating exactly half my attention to said samples. naturally, the remaining 50% has been dedicated to people watching while i'm "studying" at my local bookstore/cafe. this week, however, my studies kicked into high gear as i spent the better part of 2 hours per night for 4 nights reading through monotonous lessons and attempting to solve sample problems--with a mere 15% of my attention dedicated elsewhere. not bad for an ADD-head.
while i've been adequately balancing my new job, my addiction to the gym, and my nightly study sessions, i've realized a few things:
realization #1: this college go-around is far more important than my first. this time it actually DOES matter where i go and how i do. there won't be any fraternity parties, though there will surely be plenty of young, tanned and toned coeds. there won't be any "weekends start on thursdays" mentality and, to a lesser degree, there won't be nearly the level of identification with my institution (point of order here, i went to EMU, a school with which i was too embarrassed to truly identify myself. instead, michigan was my identity, as it's a superior school with superior athletics to boot).
reality #2, i suck at math. i mean i REALLLLLLLLY suck. actually, i don't suck. i'm below "sucking" on the math chart of suckiness. i was terrible at math in both high school and in college. now, i've forgotten all the stuff i was so terrible at. so, basically, i have to work my way back to sucking just so i can potentially move beyond that and into the "mediocre" category. fun times.
observation #3: no matter how hard the coursework may be, school is infinitely more entertaining/satisfying than working. i've never been excited about a job. ever. in fact, even the jobs i didn't hate, i still hated simply because i hate working. i'm aware that an MBA will simply lead me to a higher level of job that i may hate, but hell, at least it'll be a nice 2-3 year break from waking up at 6am every morning, heading to an office, and having to fulfill obligations that really hold no interest to me. on the other hand, even knowing how effin hard a graduate program in business will be, i couldn't possibly be more excited about it. aside from pondering how on god's green earth W managed a degree from an ivy league school, my own post-secondary education occupies my mind the most. and chicks. man, how i love chicks. especially the ones with the.....ok, another time.
new fact #4: i'm an ego-maniac and a narcissist. i never really thought much about it before, but it's become increasingly clear to me lately that one of the true leading factors in my decision to go to grad school is that i have a big ego and that i want recognition above and beyond that of others. before, an MBA was just something "i've always wanted to do for myself." now, it's something i kinda need to do to satisfy the craving to have 3 letters after my name and to compete with my friends who possess post-secondary degrees (though only a handful claim MBA's). i also like to be seen with my GMAT book in public. it makes me feel important knowing that the other schlubs in my locale aren't trying to better themselves which, in the end, means i'm better than them. i'm not saying it's a good reason to go (it's not the primary one, so don't worry), but i'm okay with it. anything that furthers my love for myself is fine by me.
pensamiento final (final thought): money really DOES make everything better. i've worked a lot of jobs. i've never made a lot of money. hell, most of the time i'm making just enough to get by. and i grew to hate and/or resent each job over time. now, while an MBA is no guarantee of a high-paying job, it does increase the likelihood of receiving a nice offer over another candidate with a simple bachelor's degree, which means that even though i'm certain to eventually loathe that job too, at least i'll have the financial means to buy a slice of happiness. or a slice of pizza. mmmm, pizza.
so, in the coming year, i plan to leave the undergraduate world a bitter, job-loathing, poverty-stricken individual and emerge in MBA land an egotistical narcissist with money, 3 letters after my name, and i'll be better than 85% of you. can someone cosine on my loan?
Saturday, September 02, 2006
Hut, Hut, Hike!
i could write a really lengthy post on just how much i love the end of summer/beginning of fall. i could reminisce about all the wonderful memories i had experiencing the midwest autumn (it's the ONLY time of the year i wasn't miserable there). and i could carry on and on about how the cooler temperatures are a welcome break from the oppressive summer heat. but i won't. know why? 'cause college football season is officially under way and kicks into high gear in a mere 9 hours. so fuck the long-winded memoirs. GO BLUE!
Sunday, August 27, 2006
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.
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.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
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.
Pikes "peek"
PS. to view these without any written commentary, you can play this as a slideshow.
Monday, August 21, 2006
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).
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).
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
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.
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.
Monday, August 07, 2006
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.
Monday, July 31, 2006
Sit back and enjoy the show...eventually
movie-going in the US has hit rock bottom. it used to be that you purchased your $3 tickets from the counter, walk into the theater, sit down, watch 3 brief previews, and watch your selected movie as it starts....on time.
eventually, corporate advertisers recognized the captive audience scenario and began creative ways of infiltrating the hallowed grounds of the cinema. brief reruns of old ads for coke, pepsi, and other confectionaries soon gave way to product placements in the films themselves. and now the advertisments have mutated, growing larger, stronger--and longer. ad space has been granted mini-movie status at some of the larger theater complexes and has brought the movie experience to an all-time low.
last evening, CJ and i headed to downtown 5280 to catch "you, me and dupree." every once in a while, even intellectuals need a mindless laugh or 10 (and what red-blooded american male doesn't want to see the new and improved kate hudson prance around in little undies? rave for another day...). we had it all planned out. we'd grab a quick bite at paramount cafe across from the theater, catch the 5:30 show, and still be back to my place in time for the first run of this week's entourage. we finished our average-to-above-average food and people watching at 5:20 and headed across the street.
by my time keeper (phone, i don't wear a watch), we bought our tickets at 5:30 and headed into the theater, fully expecting to walk in at the beginning of the previews. dead. wrong.
we headed to our seats and sat down staring at the blank silver screen. the lights were still on full blare, as if we'd arrived 20 minutes early, when in fact, we were almost 10 minutes late (CJ has a walking cast and walks slower than mr. magoo). the reel started, um, reeling and away we went....or so i thought.
it was 5:40, ten minutes after the scheduled showing of our movie, and only 2 hours and 20 minutes to entourage. "coke is refreshing." "if you're tired of dropped calls, drop your network and get cingular." "coke is refreshing." "toyota--moving forward." i fucking get it! coke is refreshing. now can i please have a pepsi?! "turn off your cell phones serviced by cingular." "regal cinemas thanks you for coming. enjoy your coke." the only thing that would have made this remotely entertaining would have been a genital herpes commercial. seeing 30 people in a theater all grow silent and stiff would have been priceless. no dice.
the previews, mercifully, started after 25 minutes of being an ad critic against my will. the movie guy voice filled the theater and introduced us to 5, not 3, 5 upcoming films. none of them enticing, by the way. i mentioned aloud how ridiculous this whole thing was, and had half a mind to find the theater manager and just start screaming. not that it would have done any good, but it would have made me feel better.
25 minutes of ads, 15 minutes of previews and 5 minutes of the compulsory "no talking, turn off your cell phones, enjoy our refreshments" messaging, the featured presentation finally started--about 45 minutes late.
this whole "experience" reminded me again of exactly why i hate going out to see a movie. sure, the film was, mindlessly funny, and kate hudson looked more amazing than anything i could have dreamed up (an image that will remain in my fantasies till my dying day), but i'm sure it would have been just as funny and she would have been just as unbelievably sexy if i waited a few months and rented the dvd, which can be controlled by a remote...with a fast forward button.
for a society controlled by the clock (read: NOT europe), it comes as a great surprise to me that a venue so regimented by time could so blatently disregard it. coke's money has now grown to even greater importance than patrons' time, which gives new meaning to the term "sold-out show."
eventually, corporate advertisers recognized the captive audience scenario and began creative ways of infiltrating the hallowed grounds of the cinema. brief reruns of old ads for coke, pepsi, and other confectionaries soon gave way to product placements in the films themselves. and now the advertisments have mutated, growing larger, stronger--and longer. ad space has been granted mini-movie status at some of the larger theater complexes and has brought the movie experience to an all-time low.
last evening, CJ and i headed to downtown 5280 to catch "you, me and dupree." every once in a while, even intellectuals need a mindless laugh or 10 (and what red-blooded american male doesn't want to see the new and improved kate hudson prance around in little undies? rave for another day...). we had it all planned out. we'd grab a quick bite at paramount cafe across from the theater, catch the 5:30 show, and still be back to my place in time for the first run of this week's entourage. we finished our average-to-above-average food and people watching at 5:20 and headed across the street.
by my time keeper (phone, i don't wear a watch), we bought our tickets at 5:30 and headed into the theater, fully expecting to walk in at the beginning of the previews. dead. wrong.
we headed to our seats and sat down staring at the blank silver screen. the lights were still on full blare, as if we'd arrived 20 minutes early, when in fact, we were almost 10 minutes late (CJ has a walking cast and walks slower than mr. magoo). the reel started, um, reeling and away we went....or so i thought.
it was 5:40, ten minutes after the scheduled showing of our movie, and only 2 hours and 20 minutes to entourage. "coke is refreshing." "if you're tired of dropped calls, drop your network and get cingular." "coke is refreshing." "toyota--moving forward." i fucking get it! coke is refreshing. now can i please have a pepsi?! "turn off your cell phones serviced by cingular." "regal cinemas thanks you for coming. enjoy your coke." the only thing that would have made this remotely entertaining would have been a genital herpes commercial. seeing 30 people in a theater all grow silent and stiff would have been priceless. no dice.
the previews, mercifully, started after 25 minutes of being an ad critic against my will. the movie guy voice filled the theater and introduced us to 5, not 3, 5 upcoming films. none of them enticing, by the way. i mentioned aloud how ridiculous this whole thing was, and had half a mind to find the theater manager and just start screaming. not that it would have done any good, but it would have made me feel better.
25 minutes of ads, 15 minutes of previews and 5 minutes of the compulsory "no talking, turn off your cell phones, enjoy our refreshments" messaging, the featured presentation finally started--about 45 minutes late.
this whole "experience" reminded me again of exactly why i hate going out to see a movie. sure, the film was, mindlessly funny, and kate hudson looked more amazing than anything i could have dreamed up (an image that will remain in my fantasies till my dying day), but i'm sure it would have been just as funny and she would have been just as unbelievably sexy if i waited a few months and rented the dvd, which can be controlled by a remote...with a fast forward button.
for a society controlled by the clock (read: NOT europe), it comes as a great surprise to me that a venue so regimented by time could so blatently disregard it. coke's money has now grown to even greater importance than patrons' time, which gives new meaning to the term "sold-out show."
Friday, July 28, 2006
one night in paris
paris hilton has been restored to her original splendor and beauty. this must be the most extensive, expensive of the "re-virgining" procedures i've been hearing so much about on the news. according to sources, it took about 2 years and $25 million to reverse the years of neglect she had endured. among some of her more, um, telling problems were leaking within her plumbing, her entrances (both front and rear) were no longer able to sustain the high volume of people coming in, and various issues resulting in a foul stench.
the project manager in charge of restoring hilton's grandeur acknowledged that though the extensive work had made significant improvements, there was still work to be done.
"the old paris hilton's star had faded and people were being driven away from her in droves by the sight and smell of her," said jacques baudrillard. "paris hilton is far from complete. so far we have only tackled her exterior and internal problematic areas. the next phase will be to add some sophistication and class to the old girl." good luck with that.
read more here: http://www.avantnews.com/modules/news/article.php?storyid=251
the project manager in charge of restoring hilton's grandeur acknowledged that though the extensive work had made significant improvements, there was still work to be done.
"the old paris hilton's star had faded and people were being driven away from her in droves by the sight and smell of her," said jacques baudrillard. "paris hilton is far from complete. so far we have only tackled her exterior and internal problematic areas. the next phase will be to add some sophistication and class to the old girl." good luck with that.
read more here: http://www.avantnews.com/modules/news/article.php?storyid=251
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Old friends, good times, and an evil gnome
having been shit-canned by my employer of 2 years on monday, it was a welcome distraction when an old friend rolled into town on his way to the west coast. hollywood dropped by for the evening on his way to LA to fulfill his destiny: being rich eisen's bitch at NFL network.
it's been well over 2 years since we last saw each other (dates are fuzzy, but i think i was last in michigan about 2 years ago), and it was great to see a face from my past. he cruised in to 5280 around dinner time, took a much needed shower and we headed out to grub. he introduced me to his travel companion (no, not the talking GPS lady, though she sounded kinda hot), evil bob, who is a gnome dressed as david lee roth. he explained to me (as seen on the jet blach jabber) that evil bob is lawn gnome that he'd picked up a while back, brought on the trip with him to take pictures in random places, and someone whom he'd ultimately leave on his own somewhere between denver and LA to find his own journey.
as host, i took hollywood and bob on a mini tour of the city, as neither had been here before. i thought it fitting to go over to invesco at mile high, home of the broncos, for bob's cameo in denver. we hit a few other sites in the city and then crashed out for the nite.
the journey was to continue the next morning. we hit up starbucks for some breakfast before h-wood hit the road. we had some final moments of catching up, including conversation about who's doing what, with whom and where. it occurred to me that neither of us had really kept up with the entire circle of friends we had in college, but still managed to keep tabs on those really close to us. for the first time since i left SE michigan and all my friends, i realized one of the great truisms about life: when one moves on to bigger and better things, in the back of his mind, the world stands still for everyone he's left behind.
as i've been bouncing around from michigan to chicago to denver and who knows where next, i never gave a second thought that those i left behind had been living in the real world and developing their own lives as well. for some odd reason, i still picture them all hanging around our little ghetto college town, drinking at the same old establishments, and working shitty jobs just to make ends meet till the next best thing comes along.
i'm amazed that it's been 4 years since i left school, and more taken aback by the number of my old friends and acquaintances have moved out and on as well. most are married, many have moved to more impressive locales (i.e. chicago, new york, california, et al),and have incredibly successful and fulfilling careers. and some will never outgrow the college days. but who really wants to?
hollywood left to hit the highway, while i headed home from starbucks to piece together today's random act. the 5 minute drive provided ample time for me to reflect on all the memories that come with seeing an old friend. the 4 years since i left EMU have gone nearly as quickly as the 4.5 i spent there. and this is one of the few times when i really miss the old days and all of my friends.
i'm happy for shaun to have this opportunity and am actually a bit jealous of his cross-country trek. and though i obviously can't go back in time to re-live the "greatest years of your life" (seriously, did you ever think your parents would be right about anything, let alone which part of your life you'd enjoy most?), i can hold on to the memories that made those times so great while still living my life in the present. it helps to have an evil gnome to show you how.
it's been well over 2 years since we last saw each other (dates are fuzzy, but i think i was last in michigan about 2 years ago), and it was great to see a face from my past. he cruised in to 5280 around dinner time, took a much needed shower and we headed out to grub. he introduced me to his travel companion (no, not the talking GPS lady, though she sounded kinda hot), evil bob, who is a gnome dressed as david lee roth. he explained to me (as seen on the jet blach jabber) that evil bob is lawn gnome that he'd picked up a while back, brought on the trip with him to take pictures in random places, and someone whom he'd ultimately leave on his own somewhere between denver and LA to find his own journey.
as host, i took hollywood and bob on a mini tour of the city, as neither had been here before. i thought it fitting to go over to invesco at mile high, home of the broncos, for bob's cameo in denver. we hit a few other sites in the city and then crashed out for the nite.
the journey was to continue the next morning. we hit up starbucks for some breakfast before h-wood hit the road. we had some final moments of catching up, including conversation about who's doing what, with whom and where. it occurred to me that neither of us had really kept up with the entire circle of friends we had in college, but still managed to keep tabs on those really close to us. for the first time since i left SE michigan and all my friends, i realized one of the great truisms about life: when one moves on to bigger and better things, in the back of his mind, the world stands still for everyone he's left behind.
as i've been bouncing around from michigan to chicago to denver and who knows where next, i never gave a second thought that those i left behind had been living in the real world and developing their own lives as well. for some odd reason, i still picture them all hanging around our little ghetto college town, drinking at the same old establishments, and working shitty jobs just to make ends meet till the next best thing comes along.
i'm amazed that it's been 4 years since i left school, and more taken aback by the number of my old friends and acquaintances have moved out and on as well. most are married, many have moved to more impressive locales (i.e. chicago, new york, california, et al),and have incredibly successful and fulfilling careers. and some will never outgrow the college days. but who really wants to?
hollywood left to hit the highway, while i headed home from starbucks to piece together today's random act. the 5 minute drive provided ample time for me to reflect on all the memories that come with seeing an old friend. the 4 years since i left EMU have gone nearly as quickly as the 4.5 i spent there. and this is one of the few times when i really miss the old days and all of my friends.
i'm happy for shaun to have this opportunity and am actually a bit jealous of his cross-country trek. and though i obviously can't go back in time to re-live the "greatest years of your life" (seriously, did you ever think your parents would be right about anything, let alone which part of your life you'd enjoy most?), i can hold on to the memories that made those times so great while still living my life in the present. it helps to have an evil gnome to show you how.
Friday, July 14, 2006
So sue me
i'm a little late in reporting the week's most ridiculous item. as i'm sure you've undoubtedly already heard, this is the epitome of the frivolous lawsuit. some guy in oregon is suing both michael jordan and nike founder, phil knight, for a total of $832 million. more on the amount in a minute.
so, this guy, this allen heckerd, says he's tired of being mistaken for a basketball legend and feels he needs to be compensated, presumably, for the "mental anguish" it must cause him to be misidentified. he's also suing knight, i suppose, for continuing the jordan legacy thru his nike brand and, thus, perpetuating the hurt. so, let's list the similarities between his airness and his airheadness to really understand hecker's pain: bald, black, over 6' tall and wears and earring in the left ear. there you have it folks, a perfect clone of the greatest basketball player in history.
of course, it's not all bad. heckerd claims to be mistaken for jordan when he's ballin' at the gym, as he apparently has the game equal to the jumpman. despite the adulation and admiration of his basketball prowess, heckerd is pursuing his lawsuit to the tune of $832 mill. now, if i were to sue someone for a reason this assinine, i suppose it's natural to come up with a ludicrous number. but arriving at this ridiculous amount should at least be thought out, logical, and designed to actually make me look like a victim, not a complete dope. heckerd arrived at his figure in a manner that defies each of those parameters. his reason? "Well, you figure with my age and you multiply that times seven and then I turn around and I figure that's what it all boils down to." right.
i could launch into a diatribe about frivolous lawsuits and the litigation-hungry society we've become, but i have a friend that looks and sounds remarkably like dave chappelle. he's 27, times 7, carry the one...we'll be suing for $189 million. anyone know a good lawyer?
http://msn.foxsports.com/nba/story/5766288?FSO1&ATT=HMA
so, this guy, this allen heckerd, says he's tired of being mistaken for a basketball legend and feels he needs to be compensated, presumably, for the "mental anguish" it must cause him to be misidentified. he's also suing knight, i suppose, for continuing the jordan legacy thru his nike brand and, thus, perpetuating the hurt. so, let's list the similarities between his airness and his airheadness to really understand hecker's pain: bald, black, over 6' tall and wears and earring in the left ear. there you have it folks, a perfect clone of the greatest basketball player in history.
of course, it's not all bad. heckerd claims to be mistaken for jordan when he's ballin' at the gym, as he apparently has the game equal to the jumpman. despite the adulation and admiration of his basketball prowess, heckerd is pursuing his lawsuit to the tune of $832 mill. now, if i were to sue someone for a reason this assinine, i suppose it's natural to come up with a ludicrous number. but arriving at this ridiculous amount should at least be thought out, logical, and designed to actually make me look like a victim, not a complete dope. heckerd arrived at his figure in a manner that defies each of those parameters. his reason? "Well, you figure with my age and you multiply that times seven and then I turn around and I figure that's what it all boils down to." right.
i could launch into a diatribe about frivolous lawsuits and the litigation-hungry society we've become, but i have a friend that looks and sounds remarkably like dave chappelle. he's 27, times 7, carry the one...we'll be suing for $189 million. anyone know a good lawyer?
http://msn.foxsports.com/nba/story/5766288?FSO1&ATT=HMA
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Kenny boy, Danny boy
enron chief mastermind, kenneth lay, took the easy way out and avoided serving his life sentence in prison by having a heart attack and dying (christ, i survived mine--and i'm only a thousandaire). this medical maladity was a bit convenient, i feel, but may as well be the justice "kenny boy's" victims craved. the man bankrupted thousands, even millions, of people with his elaborate scheme of corporate greed. now he is dead. somewhere, dubya is crying like a little girl that scraped her knee after falling while playing hopscotch.
to his passing, i've composed the following ode, dedicated to the villain that was kenny boy. he'll be sorely missed (by the other criminal cronies).
(adapted from the irish song "danny boy.")
rest in eternal damnation, you son of a bitch.
to his passing, i've composed the following ode, dedicated to the villain that was kenny boy. he'll be sorely missed (by the other criminal cronies).
(adapted from the irish song "danny boy.")
Oh kenny boy, the prison bars were calling
From cell to cell, and all around the outside
the crime's been done, and all your followers are dying
'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when the bulls set the tempo
Or when the dow's up and awash with dough
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh kenny boy, oh kenny boy, I hate your wretched soul
And if you come, when all the pitters are a-buying
And I am dead, as dead I well may be
You'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and take a dime from me.
And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me
And all my dreams will dark and haunting be
If you'll not fail to tell me that you 've too stolen from me
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.
rest in eternal damnation, you son of a bitch.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)