Maybe it's just because I finished reading The Tipping Point, or maybe it became painfully obvious to me while seeing my family in Missouri, but I know I've crossed the line from "adolescent" to "grownup." When I was at my aunt's house, for the first time I can remember, I spent the vast majority of my time socializing with the adults, and only going downstairs to see the kids because I thought they might be bored. When I did, our conversations were forced, and I knew I could never go back. From that day forward, I knew I would be viewed as a grownup by children and teenagers. I'd really like to know where and when that happened.
I wish it were as simple as the explanation put forth by a particular third-grade boy I worked with in Columbia. He and his friends were getting water after recess, and one of them asked how old I was. I told them I was 20, and this boy looked at me with amazement, saying, "Wow, you're a teenager." The first boy corrected him, "No, your age has to end in teen to be a teenager. He's a grownup."
I know it's not the moment I graduated high school. It wasn't even the moment I graduated college. The big moments are never the ones where real change occurs. Sure, you get a piece of paper that deems you worthy of a certain salary or level of responsibility, but nobody is suddenly infused with a new outlook on life by walking across a stage.
Maybe a significant tragedy or near-tragedy forces a person to grow up. I've been blessed enough not to have endured anything before its time, such as the early death of a parent or sibling. All death I have faced, with one exception, came at its "natural" time. The only exception occurred when I was 16 and an adult acquaintance/friend committed suicide. While the news was incredibly shocking (especially because I spoke to him the morning it happened), it didn't prompt a change in my behavior.
For all the fascinating viewpoints The Tipping Point provides, it doesn't give much space to knowing when tipping points occur. I imagine that would be a nearly impossible task, but it's something I'd like to know more about, if only for selfish reasons. I know I've changed, and I'd like to think it's been for the better, but I just can't put my finger on when it occurred.
Please don't misunderstand me; I have a lot of growing up left to do. I make far too many mistakes to call myself "very mature." I am still incredibly short-sighted and don't always treat people the way they deserve to be treated, but hopefully I am making progress. What I know for sure is I am part of a different world now, and I will be for the rest of my life.
Frederick Douglass once said, "Without struggle, there is no progress." I have definitely struggled with young adulthood, but I hope the struggle has been worthwhile. All I can do is put my faith into a belief that every stage of life has something to look forward to. I believe that wholeheartedly, so I know the future holds unknown riches and joy.
I wish I knew the path. But maybe we're not supposed to; maybe not knowing the path is what brings the riches and joy, and without it we would have nothing. I guess I have no choice but to wait and see. I don't mind; I'm enjoying my life now. I just get a little ancy sometimes. Maybe I'll find out after the next tipping point in my life.
Floating through our lives
The human experience
Always an unknown
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Monday, February 27, 2006
It's only cool because I didn't go to high school with them
This post is coming to you live from the Monroe County Democratic Committee, where I'm working for free but hopefully get to schmooze my way into the rolodexes of the most powerful people in the state.
I mentioned at the end of Friday's post that I was going to NYC for Anik's birthday. Believe it or not, that's exactly what I did, and the two nights will be broken down for you presently.
Friday
There is no good way to get to NYC from Rochester. Boston is a straight shot on 90, but getting to Manhattan is a three-state drive. The best route actually takes you out of New York, through Pennsylvania and New Jersey, before getting back into the state in which you started. I won't bore you with the details of the drive, with one exception. While sitting at the toll booth before the George Washington bridge, many drivers thought we would let them in our lane if they sped ahead of all of us and then tried to cut in line. Surprisingly, those of us who had been sitting for 15 minutes were not amused. One guy tried to cut me off, and after realizing I wasn't going to give him any space, yelled out to me, "Hey, Junior, are you gonna let us in or what?" Some people really know how to convince others, huh?
After that adventure, we went with our host, Anik's friend Ketul, to a Columbia Law School party. It was a typical happy hour with free drinks, but downstairs there was a cover band comprised of law students. I've talked with a couple friends about forming a cover band for our last few months at school, but seeing these guys makes me want to do it even more. It looked like they were having a great time, especially during "Since U Been Gone." I'm not saying I would do that song, too, but I'm sure we could pull off something equally fun.
Saturday
Saturday night could easily be divided between "suck" and "frickin' amazing." It's like a football team dogging it during the first two quarters and after halftime finishing the game like men possessed.
The first half of our "game" was played at Mannahatta on the Lower East Side. I'm linking to it only in hopes that someone will search for it, find my blog, and learn how much it sucks. This might have been the single worst bar I've ever been to. It looked swanky enough, but was entirely too crowded (yet we had to put our names on a guest list). If that wasn't bad enough, the drinks were overpriced, even for New York standards. The final straw, however, was this one bartender. She was, undoubtedly, the worst bartender I have ever suffered. A good bartender can make a place, and a bad one can break it. This girl broke the bar over her knee and threw the remains in the trash. I stood at the bar for literally half an hour waiting for drinks. It would be one thing if everyone did, but I saw no less than five people come up to the bar and get their drinks within a couple minutes of their arrivals. She was slow as hell getting people their change, preferring to dance with herself to the songs played on the dance floor. I left the dance floor, went upstairs, and within 30 seconds received my drinks.
Needless to say, we left. We walked out, looking for a bar Ketul recognized. The walk to a bar with no name, just a Buddha symbol, was our "halftime." We regrouped and found our inspiration.
While pondering our next move, I decided to give Anik some birthday lovin'. Not from me, but from random girls at the bar. With Anik's camera in hand, I went up to girls and told them that it was his 27th birthday, and we were collecting "birthday kisses." You would be amazed how well this worked. We were just asking for kisses on the cheek, so that helped, but still, we had to do something for him.
After a handful of kisses, we left for the other side of the island. Ketul told us of a bar we would absolutely love, and he was right. Red Rock Saloon is the most fun bar I've been to in Manhattan, hands down. It's also the kind of bar you'd be least likely to find in a place like NYC. It's a biker/country bar that makes no apologies. The bartenders have attitude. They dance on the bar and pour shots into patron's mouths, which is typical, but it's how they do it that's impressive. Shortly after we got there, we saw a guy go up to the bar for his shot, and the bartender took his shirt off, waved it around, and only then did she pour the drink into his mouth. When another guy went up there, the bartender poured the shot into her mouth and then spit it into his. We were absolutely amazed. At one point a woman jumped into the middle of the circle of us all talking and whipped her hair around at us. She was the owner.
Anik got his kisses (including one woman that actually started making out with him), and we made our way back to Ketul's apartment. One pizza slice and a fantasic rooftop view of the city later, we passed out around 5 AM, woke up the next morning, and drove home. It's so much easier getting out of NYC than getting in.
If you skipped to the end of the post, good for you. I've got the entire thing boiled down to two easy equations:
Mannahatta = stupid
Red Rock Saloon = badass
Who would have known the best kicker bar in the world is less than five miles from the Fashion District?
Bikers and rednecks
Even in New York City
That place has it all
I mentioned at the end of Friday's post that I was going to NYC for Anik's birthday. Believe it or not, that's exactly what I did, and the two nights will be broken down for you presently.
Friday
There is no good way to get to NYC from Rochester. Boston is a straight shot on 90, but getting to Manhattan is a three-state drive. The best route actually takes you out of New York, through Pennsylvania and New Jersey, before getting back into the state in which you started. I won't bore you with the details of the drive, with one exception. While sitting at the toll booth before the George Washington bridge, many drivers thought we would let them in our lane if they sped ahead of all of us and then tried to cut in line. Surprisingly, those of us who had been sitting for 15 minutes were not amused. One guy tried to cut me off, and after realizing I wasn't going to give him any space, yelled out to me, "Hey, Junior, are you gonna let us in or what?" Some people really know how to convince others, huh?
After that adventure, we went with our host, Anik's friend Ketul, to a Columbia Law School party. It was a typical happy hour with free drinks, but downstairs there was a cover band comprised of law students. I've talked with a couple friends about forming a cover band for our last few months at school, but seeing these guys makes me want to do it even more. It looked like they were having a great time, especially during "Since U Been Gone." I'm not saying I would do that song, too, but I'm sure we could pull off something equally fun.
Saturday
Saturday night could easily be divided between "suck" and "frickin' amazing." It's like a football team dogging it during the first two quarters and after halftime finishing the game like men possessed.
The first half of our "game" was played at Mannahatta on the Lower East Side. I'm linking to it only in hopes that someone will search for it, find my blog, and learn how much it sucks. This might have been the single worst bar I've ever been to. It looked swanky enough, but was entirely too crowded (yet we had to put our names on a guest list). If that wasn't bad enough, the drinks were overpriced, even for New York standards. The final straw, however, was this one bartender. She was, undoubtedly, the worst bartender I have ever suffered. A good bartender can make a place, and a bad one can break it. This girl broke the bar over her knee and threw the remains in the trash. I stood at the bar for literally half an hour waiting for drinks. It would be one thing if everyone did, but I saw no less than five people come up to the bar and get their drinks within a couple minutes of their arrivals. She was slow as hell getting people their change, preferring to dance with herself to the songs played on the dance floor. I left the dance floor, went upstairs, and within 30 seconds received my drinks.
Needless to say, we left. We walked out, looking for a bar Ketul recognized. The walk to a bar with no name, just a Buddha symbol, was our "halftime." We regrouped and found our inspiration.
While pondering our next move, I decided to give Anik some birthday lovin'. Not from me, but from random girls at the bar. With Anik's camera in hand, I went up to girls and told them that it was his 27th birthday, and we were collecting "birthday kisses." You would be amazed how well this worked. We were just asking for kisses on the cheek, so that helped, but still, we had to do something for him.
After a handful of kisses, we left for the other side of the island. Ketul told us of a bar we would absolutely love, and he was right. Red Rock Saloon is the most fun bar I've been to in Manhattan, hands down. It's also the kind of bar you'd be least likely to find in a place like NYC. It's a biker/country bar that makes no apologies. The bartenders have attitude. They dance on the bar and pour shots into patron's mouths, which is typical, but it's how they do it that's impressive. Shortly after we got there, we saw a guy go up to the bar for his shot, and the bartender took his shirt off, waved it around, and only then did she pour the drink into his mouth. When another guy went up there, the bartender poured the shot into her mouth and then spit it into his. We were absolutely amazed. At one point a woman jumped into the middle of the circle of us all talking and whipped her hair around at us. She was the owner.
Anik got his kisses (including one woman that actually started making out with him), and we made our way back to Ketul's apartment. One pizza slice and a fantasic rooftop view of the city later, we passed out around 5 AM, woke up the next morning, and drove home. It's so much easier getting out of NYC than getting in.
If you skipped to the end of the post, good for you. I've got the entire thing boiled down to two easy equations:
Mannahatta = stupid
Red Rock Saloon = badass
Who would have known the best kicker bar in the world is less than five miles from the Fashion District?
Bikers and rednecks
Even in New York City
That place has it all
Friday, February 24, 2006
This guy directed Summer of Sam, too?
Spike Lee came to campus last night. I wasn't able to go to the speech, as I had class. Stupid night classes. I did get to go to the reception afterward (Thanks, Steph!). I was standing in our rotunda, talking to some friends, when suddenly I looked in the back of the rotunda and saw Spike. It had to be the quietest entrance by a celebrity ever. He was incredibly subdued, if not just plain tired.
There wasn't a huge crowd at the reception, thanks to the fact there was a guest list, so I was able to speak to him pretty early on. I haven't seen any of his movies, but I wasn't interested in that, anyway. I wanted to talk to him about his relationship with Reggie Miller. After seeing all those Knicks-Pacers games where Spike and Reggie would jaw at each other the whole time, I had to know what was going on.
I was told he said during the speech he wasn't going to answer questions about the Knicks, but I thought this was acceptable. Below are two versions of the conversation - first, what was actually said, and then the implied words behind what was spoken.
Me: Thanks for coming. I'm a huge sports fan and I have to know - did you and Reggie know each other before all stuff happened in the Garden?
Spike: Oh yeah, we're friends. We knew each other before that.
Me: But what about that one time...
Spike: (With a smile and a laugh) Hey, it was in the heat of a playoff game!
Me: Alright, that's cool. So do you ever try to be more than just a fan? Ever try to talk to Isiah...
Spike: (Knowing smile) Yeah, I know Isiah...
Me: So what about...
Spike: (Shakes my hand) Thanks for coming, man.
And now, the undercurrent:
Me: Thanks for coming. I'm a huge sports fan, and I'm going to try to throw you a softball before I get to my real question; screw what you said in the speech.
Spike: Oh yeah, we're friends. If you're such a big sports fan, you would have known that already. I know where you're going with this, and I'm not saying a word.
Me: Great, I got you to laugh. Maybe you're letting down your defenses just enough, but to be sure, I'll try a somewhat oblique way of asking my question.
Spike: You can't be serious. I deal with the media all the time. I'm controversial when I want to be, and you're not worth the time.
Me: Come on, dude. All I want to hear you say is that you want to throw Isiah into oncoming traffic for destroying the team you so obviously love.
Spike: Better luck next time. Thanks for coming, man.
It was worth a shot. In other news, I found out Martin plans on going back to Nigeria to practice politics. He wants to be the President of the Senate there. If I can finagle my way into Congress, we could get some serious international relations going on. Party at the embassy!
Off to NYC for Anik's birthday. Good times.
Spike Lee, he got game
You know he hates Isiah
He just can't say it
There wasn't a huge crowd at the reception, thanks to the fact there was a guest list, so I was able to speak to him pretty early on. I haven't seen any of his movies, but I wasn't interested in that, anyway. I wanted to talk to him about his relationship with Reggie Miller. After seeing all those Knicks-Pacers games where Spike and Reggie would jaw at each other the whole time, I had to know what was going on.
I was told he said during the speech he wasn't going to answer questions about the Knicks, but I thought this was acceptable. Below are two versions of the conversation - first, what was actually said, and then the implied words behind what was spoken.
Me: Thanks for coming. I'm a huge sports fan and I have to know - did you and Reggie know each other before all stuff happened in the Garden?
Spike: Oh yeah, we're friends. We knew each other before that.
Me: But what about that one time...
Spike: (With a smile and a laugh) Hey, it was in the heat of a playoff game!
Me: Alright, that's cool. So do you ever try to be more than just a fan? Ever try to talk to Isiah...
Spike: (Knowing smile) Yeah, I know Isiah...
Me: So what about...
Spike: (Shakes my hand) Thanks for coming, man.
And now, the undercurrent:
Me: Thanks for coming. I'm a huge sports fan, and I'm going to try to throw you a softball before I get to my real question; screw what you said in the speech.
Spike: Oh yeah, we're friends. If you're such a big sports fan, you would have known that already. I know where you're going with this, and I'm not saying a word.
Me: Great, I got you to laugh. Maybe you're letting down your defenses just enough, but to be sure, I'll try a somewhat oblique way of asking my question.
Spike: You can't be serious. I deal with the media all the time. I'm controversial when I want to be, and you're not worth the time.
Me: Come on, dude. All I want to hear you say is that you want to throw Isiah into oncoming traffic for destroying the team you so obviously love.
Spike: Better luck next time. Thanks for coming, man.
It was worth a shot. In other news, I found out Martin plans on going back to Nigeria to practice politics. He wants to be the President of the Senate there. If I can finagle my way into Congress, we could get some serious international relations going on. Party at the embassy!
Off to NYC for Anik's birthday. Good times.
Spike Lee, he got game
You know he hates Isiah
He just can't say it
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
I don't know how to type the upside-down exclamation point in the title bar
I am a member of the National Society for Hispanic MBAs (NSHMBA). I'll wait for you to stop laughing...alright, good. I didn't lie about my ethnic background to become a member; the society is completely inclusive. The reason I joined was to go to one of the largest MBA career fairs in the country. I've been to two career fairs, but no job offers. I have a job, so that's not very upsetting. The oddest part, however, is a publication I receive from them. I get a magazine called Latina. As you may have already guessed, it's a magazine for Hispanic women. Why I get this magazine, I have no idea. Other males at school get the same magazine, but still, wouldn't you think they would segment their audience a little more? I know I've marked on my membership that I'm male, so that's not the problem.
Maybe it's a sneaky way of getting us to understand the female mind, just like how some women buy Men's Health and similar mags. If that's the case, then Hispanic women care mostly about finding a husband as well as dresses that fit their unique shape, and not necessarily in that order. They also love celebrities' personal lives. Oh, and they're proud. Very proud.
Maybe I should start a magazine for middle-class white males from America and find something we should be proud about. "Hey, look at my beer belly! I'm proud!" Maybe not.
Anyway, my hope is that my subscription continues after I move. I really want the next person who lives here to pick up the mail one day and get this magazine with my name on it. I hope they flip through it and wonder why I would care about finding pants to fit big hips. Perhaps the new tenant(s) will get a kick out of it and realize it's "just one of those things." Or maybe, they'll get really curious and wait for more magazines that don't fit any of my demographics.
These are the things you think about when you only have four hours of stuff you have to get done in a day.
What's that in the mail?
It's Latina magazine!
Perfect for honkies
Maybe it's a sneaky way of getting us to understand the female mind, just like how some women buy Men's Health and similar mags. If that's the case, then Hispanic women care mostly about finding a husband as well as dresses that fit their unique shape, and not necessarily in that order. They also love celebrities' personal lives. Oh, and they're proud. Very proud.
Maybe I should start a magazine for middle-class white males from America and find something we should be proud about. "Hey, look at my beer belly! I'm proud!" Maybe not.
Anyway, my hope is that my subscription continues after I move. I really want the next person who lives here to pick up the mail one day and get this magazine with my name on it. I hope they flip through it and wonder why I would care about finding pants to fit big hips. Perhaps the new tenant(s) will get a kick out of it and realize it's "just one of those things." Or maybe, they'll get really curious and wait for more magazines that don't fit any of my demographics.
These are the things you think about when you only have four hours of stuff you have to get done in a day.
What's that in the mail?
It's Latina magazine!
Perfect for honkies
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Wild horses
Recent NFL rumors have said Denver Broncos coach Mike Shanahan is interested in Ricky Williams, the Dolphins runningback that may or may not have failed yet another drug test. Williams did not play during the 2004 season, in part to reach spiritual transcendence through drugs. After hearing that Shanahan also wants to talk to Terrell Owens, I'm convinced Shanahan wants to create the craziest team in NFL history. Here are some suggestions for the rest of the team:
QB - Kurt Warner
He's not exactly crazy, but his wife sure as hell as. Light up those talk-show calling boards!
WR - Randy Moss
Maybe he'll run over Kenyon Martin and make Martin's knee all better.
TE - Kellen Winslow
At some point he would get an injury from the lack of oxygen that would sideline him for months.
DT - Warren Sapp
If Williams ever stiff-arms him in practice, Sapp will just come back with the repeated taunt of, "Nice job, hippie," because Sapp argues like a 5 year-old.
LB - Joey Porter
Before a key divisional game against the Chiefs, he'll trash-talk through the media with Tony Gonzalez' backup to prove how badass he is.
CB - Fred Smoot
Can you imagine if Williams had brought his stash to the cruise on Lake Minnetonka?
S - Sean Taylor
If anyone gets out of line, he'll be there to spit at them...or shoot them.
I can't promise this team would win any championships, but there's no way they aren't the focus of speculation year-round.
Just imagine if they were all in New York.
NFL crazies
All the biggest headcases
My new favorite team
QB - Kurt Warner
He's not exactly crazy, but his wife sure as hell as. Light up those talk-show calling boards!
WR - Randy Moss
Maybe he'll run over Kenyon Martin and make Martin's knee all better.
TE - Kellen Winslow
At some point he would get an injury from the lack of oxygen that would sideline him for months.
DT - Warren Sapp
If Williams ever stiff-arms him in practice, Sapp will just come back with the repeated taunt of, "Nice job, hippie," because Sapp argues like a 5 year-old.
LB - Joey Porter
Before a key divisional game against the Chiefs, he'll trash-talk through the media with Tony Gonzalez' backup to prove how badass he is.
CB - Fred Smoot
Can you imagine if Williams had brought his stash to the cruise on Lake Minnetonka?
S - Sean Taylor
If anyone gets out of line, he'll be there to spit at them...or shoot them.
I can't promise this team would win any championships, but there's no way they aren't the focus of speculation year-round.
Just imagine if they were all in New York.
NFL crazies
All the biggest headcases
My new favorite team
Monday, February 20, 2006
We really are family
Before I get started, much thanks to those offering their condolences and best wishes. It really meant a lot.
It turns out I was dead-on about one of the silver linings - there was more family in one place than I've ever seen in my life. I met first cousins, their spouses, and even some of their kids. I had a blast. Everyone was in good spirits nearly the entire time. I found out a few things about my family I never knew (mostly because I never knew them). The most obvious fact: I definitely found out that I am not alone when it comes to drinking - just about everyone there was putting them away. At one point a few people even had to make a run to get more. Nobody was ever sloppy, but they know how to enjoy their alcohol.
The only reason we didn't get sloppy, I'm sure, is because there was enough food at my aunt's house to feed an army. People were coming by all day offering their condolences and their cooking. I don't think there was a single point over two days where someone wasn't eating something.
With the atmosphere at my aunt's house as a free-for-all, I guess it was assumed that some of the rules were relaxed, too. At least, that's what my second cousin, Jacob, probably thought. He's 14, standing around with adults. We're talking about the Blue Collar Comedy Tour guys, and he tells us his favorite Ron White joke. All I'll say is it ended with, "I learned how to put my pecker in a toaster." Jacob's mom was standing within earshot and nearly lost it. It was hysterical. One of the other guys and I had to calm her down, telling her that 14 year-olds say much worse things, so not to worry.
Most importantly, though, was the fact that we were all there together. My family is a fun bunch, and I'm glad I got to know that. By the end of the weekend I was getting all my cousins' numbers so I can see them again, hopefully for a happier occasion. I definitely want to try to organize a family reunion now.
Tomorrow we return to our reguarly scheduled ramblings.
All under one roof
A good day for the family
More to come, I'm sure
It turns out I was dead-on about one of the silver linings - there was more family in one place than I've ever seen in my life. I met first cousins, their spouses, and even some of their kids. I had a blast. Everyone was in good spirits nearly the entire time. I found out a few things about my family I never knew (mostly because I never knew them). The most obvious fact: I definitely found out that I am not alone when it comes to drinking - just about everyone there was putting them away. At one point a few people even had to make a run to get more. Nobody was ever sloppy, but they know how to enjoy their alcohol.
The only reason we didn't get sloppy, I'm sure, is because there was enough food at my aunt's house to feed an army. People were coming by all day offering their condolences and their cooking. I don't think there was a single point over two days where someone wasn't eating something.
With the atmosphere at my aunt's house as a free-for-all, I guess it was assumed that some of the rules were relaxed, too. At least, that's what my second cousin, Jacob, probably thought. He's 14, standing around with adults. We're talking about the Blue Collar Comedy Tour guys, and he tells us his favorite Ron White joke. All I'll say is it ended with, "I learned how to put my pecker in a toaster." Jacob's mom was standing within earshot and nearly lost it. It was hysterical. One of the other guys and I had to calm her down, telling her that 14 year-olds say much worse things, so not to worry.
Most importantly, though, was the fact that we were all there together. My family is a fun bunch, and I'm glad I got to know that. By the end of the weekend I was getting all my cousins' numbers so I can see them again, hopefully for a happier occasion. I definitely want to try to organize a family reunion now.
Tomorrow we return to our reguarly scheduled ramblings.
All under one roof
A good day for the family
More to come, I'm sure
Thursday, February 16, 2006
I love you, Uncle Bill
I'll be out of commission for a little while. I just learned tonight that my Uncle Bill passed away.
He and my Aunt Martha were the closest family I had while I was in college, and I saw them fairly often, but at a time like this, it never feels like it was enough. A few things about Bill Burkholder: he was a large man with an even larger heart. He always greeted me with a warm smile and a big hug, even though he couldn't stand to say hello. He had to go to dialysis three times a week, but that never dampened his spirits. His good nature can be a lesson to us all.
I have no idea what I'm going to say to my aunt when I see her. I'll probably just burst into tears. The last time I saw her was right before Christmas, and I specifically drove to see her when Bill would be in dialysis. She has had such a rough time trying to take care of him - it turned into a full-time job. I know she cared about him so deeply, and I'm afraid she'll have a hard time finding new ways to fill her time now that he's gone. It helps that she has family nearby: one of her children lives in the same town, and the rest are all within a day's drive.
As with many deaths, there are still some silver linings to be found. I'll see my cousins, at least one of whom I don't think I've ever met. The age and geography differences have been the main reasons for that. This weekend will also be the first time my dad will see his sister since my graduation in December '03. I hope this tragedy will remind them how much they need each other and push them to spend more time together.
Speaking of my dad and sisters, there's a possibility my Aunt Anne will come to the service. She and my dad haven't spoken in years because of a fight over the caretaking of my late grandmother. If she comes, I can only hope they will resolve their differences.
Family is too important to let go, especially at times like these. Friends are amazing people, and I know I owe much of who and where I am today to them, but occasionally you just need to be with family. I'm going to do that now, but I want you to know I love you all, and you mean the world to me. I'll be back soon, I promise.
To my Uncle Bill
You were family and a friend
I'll miss you dearly
He and my Aunt Martha were the closest family I had while I was in college, and I saw them fairly often, but at a time like this, it never feels like it was enough. A few things about Bill Burkholder: he was a large man with an even larger heart. He always greeted me with a warm smile and a big hug, even though he couldn't stand to say hello. He had to go to dialysis three times a week, but that never dampened his spirits. His good nature can be a lesson to us all.
I have no idea what I'm going to say to my aunt when I see her. I'll probably just burst into tears. The last time I saw her was right before Christmas, and I specifically drove to see her when Bill would be in dialysis. She has had such a rough time trying to take care of him - it turned into a full-time job. I know she cared about him so deeply, and I'm afraid she'll have a hard time finding new ways to fill her time now that he's gone. It helps that she has family nearby: one of her children lives in the same town, and the rest are all within a day's drive.
As with many deaths, there are still some silver linings to be found. I'll see my cousins, at least one of whom I don't think I've ever met. The age and geography differences have been the main reasons for that. This weekend will also be the first time my dad will see his sister since my graduation in December '03. I hope this tragedy will remind them how much they need each other and push them to spend more time together.
Speaking of my dad and sisters, there's a possibility my Aunt Anne will come to the service. She and my dad haven't spoken in years because of a fight over the caretaking of my late grandmother. If she comes, I can only hope they will resolve their differences.
Family is too important to let go, especially at times like these. Friends are amazing people, and I know I owe much of who and where I am today to them, but occasionally you just need to be with family. I'm going to do that now, but I want you to know I love you all, and you mean the world to me. I'll be back soon, I promise.
To my Uncle Bill
You were family and a friend
I'll miss you dearly
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
It's the most wonderful time of the year
Forget Valentine's Day - TODAY is the day of true love. Today marks the return of hope. Today a song sings in hearts across the country. Today is the return of beauty.
Today is the day pitchers and catchers report to spring training.
Some of you share my faith in the gospel of baseball. You know the dawning of this day is unlike the dawning of any other day in the calendar. This is the day, and this is the year.
To the uninitiated, I wish to offer my condolences, and my help.
Spring training is wonderful because every team has hope that this season will be the one that brings World Series glory. Before you NFL lovers jump on me about parity, know that in the last five years, more different teams have made it to the World Series (9) than the Super Bowl (8). The era of "anyone can win" is here in baseball. Of course you're going to have teams like the Royals and Rockies, but that can easily be countered with the Texans and Cardinals. More teams than ever are contending, promising a great season.
Some teams get to see the new stars. Milwaukee has its first hopeful spring training in years with the arrival of Prince Fielder. He's crushed minor league pitching, and to combine him with Rickie Weeks and J.J. Hardy, the Brewers' infield will be a force in the years to come. With Ben Sheets as a bonefide ace, Milwaukee should finish above .500 for the first time since 1992.
It's not just about seeing the new faces, though. Spring training is relaxing and fun. As the snow melts away, we get to leave our homes and sit in the warm sunshine. The games are fairly meaningless, so the stress of waiting for your team to pull out the win is a nonfactor. The heat isn't beating down on us relentlessly; the weather is perfect. The grass is green, the skies are blue and everyone has a chance to bring home a championship.
Play ball!
The freshly mowed grass
Green and brown against blue skies
Heaven in a park
Today is the day pitchers and catchers report to spring training.
Some of you share my faith in the gospel of baseball. You know the dawning of this day is unlike the dawning of any other day in the calendar. This is the day, and this is the year.
To the uninitiated, I wish to offer my condolences, and my help.
Spring training is wonderful because every team has hope that this season will be the one that brings World Series glory. Before you NFL lovers jump on me about parity, know that in the last five years, more different teams have made it to the World Series (9) than the Super Bowl (8). The era of "anyone can win" is here in baseball. Of course you're going to have teams like the Royals and Rockies, but that can easily be countered with the Texans and Cardinals. More teams than ever are contending, promising a great season.
Some teams get to see the new stars. Milwaukee has its first hopeful spring training in years with the arrival of Prince Fielder. He's crushed minor league pitching, and to combine him with Rickie Weeks and J.J. Hardy, the Brewers' infield will be a force in the years to come. With Ben Sheets as a bonefide ace, Milwaukee should finish above .500 for the first time since 1992.
It's not just about seeing the new faces, though. Spring training is relaxing and fun. As the snow melts away, we get to leave our homes and sit in the warm sunshine. The games are fairly meaningless, so the stress of waiting for your team to pull out the win is a nonfactor. The heat isn't beating down on us relentlessly; the weather is perfect. The grass is green, the skies are blue and everyone has a chance to bring home a championship.
Play ball!
The freshly mowed grass
Green and brown against blue skies
Heaven in a park
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Take that, Hallmark!
It's Valentine's Day, and I have a girlfriend, but I'm not going anywhere nice for dinner tonight. I'm not getting dressed up. I won't be showing up at her door with chocolate or flowers. In fact, I'm thinking about going bowling. Am I trying to get her to break up with me? Nope. Not my intention at all.
She's not here. She's in Florida, visiting her grandmother.
She forgot all about Valentine's Day when she booked her flights. She's not coming back until tomorrow.
A girl forgetting about Valentine's Day! This has to be one of the most unlikely events I can think of. Isn't this similar to a guy forgetting the Super Bowl? I don't think I've ever heard of this happening in my entire life. Guys forget about it all the time, but that's what we do. Of course, if I had forgotten about it and she were here, things would be completely different.
She was so apologetic when she realized what happened. She offered to change her flights. I was thinking to myself, "Why should you spend more money just so I can spend more money?" (Quick note to the females: Don't worry, I'm taking her out Saturday night - we have our school's formal this weekend.) My next thought was, "Should I try to act upset about this? Maybe there's some way I can play this to my advantage." That thought was very short-lived, as I realized 1) That's not the way I want a relationship to work, on either end, and 2) I'm not quite sure what I could possibly get that I don't already have. She watches sports, lets me go drinking practically whenever I want, and doesn't understand why other girls try to chain their boyfriends to the couch. So I just let it go - besides, I wouldn't be able to write this post otherwise.
The only downside is most of the people I go bowling with have significant others, and I don't think a night at AMF is considered romantic. I think the most hilarious thing for me to do would be to go bowling by myself. There I am on Valentine's Day, alone, bowling. I just want someone to come up to me while I'm bowling so we can have this exchange:
Person: "Hey, are you alright?"
Me: "Sure, why?"
Person: "Well, it's Valentine's Day, and it just seems kinda weird for you to be here by yourself."
Me: "Nope, it's cool, I actually have a girlfriend."
Person: "So where is she?"
Me: "Not here."
Person: "..."
Person walks away shaking head, muttering something
One final comment to those who don't have a date tonight: please don't be bitter. It only gives everyone else a reason to be angry at you when you're happy. It's a made-up holiday, anyway. Tomorrow it will be completely forgotten.
As for me, I get a free pass this year. It's a pretty sweet deal, I have to say.
No chocolates this year
I'm completely off the hook
My checkbook exhales
She's not here. She's in Florida, visiting her grandmother.
She forgot all about Valentine's Day when she booked her flights. She's not coming back until tomorrow.
A girl forgetting about Valentine's Day! This has to be one of the most unlikely events I can think of. Isn't this similar to a guy forgetting the Super Bowl? I don't think I've ever heard of this happening in my entire life. Guys forget about it all the time, but that's what we do. Of course, if I had forgotten about it and she were here, things would be completely different.
She was so apologetic when she realized what happened. She offered to change her flights. I was thinking to myself, "Why should you spend more money just so I can spend more money?" (Quick note to the females: Don't worry, I'm taking her out Saturday night - we have our school's formal this weekend.) My next thought was, "Should I try to act upset about this? Maybe there's some way I can play this to my advantage." That thought was very short-lived, as I realized 1) That's not the way I want a relationship to work, on either end, and 2) I'm not quite sure what I could possibly get that I don't already have. She watches sports, lets me go drinking practically whenever I want, and doesn't understand why other girls try to chain their boyfriends to the couch. So I just let it go - besides, I wouldn't be able to write this post otherwise.
The only downside is most of the people I go bowling with have significant others, and I don't think a night at AMF is considered romantic. I think the most hilarious thing for me to do would be to go bowling by myself. There I am on Valentine's Day, alone, bowling. I just want someone to come up to me while I'm bowling so we can have this exchange:
Person: "Hey, are you alright?"
Me: "Sure, why?"
Person: "Well, it's Valentine's Day, and it just seems kinda weird for you to be here by yourself."
Me: "Nope, it's cool, I actually have a girlfriend."
Person: "So where is she?"
Me: "Not here."
Person: "..."
Person walks away shaking head, muttering something
One final comment to those who don't have a date tonight: please don't be bitter. It only gives everyone else a reason to be angry at you when you're happy. It's a made-up holiday, anyway. Tomorrow it will be completely forgotten.
As for me, I get a free pass this year. It's a pretty sweet deal, I have to say.
No chocolates this year
I'm completely off the hook
My checkbook exhales
Monday, February 13, 2006
I've lost my blogging mind
My addictive personality has taken hold once again. It's not crack, meth, child pornography, or even chapstick.
It's blogs.
Now, before you get on your high horse telling me I-told-you-so, I have to add a disclaimer: it's the professional blogs I'm falling in love with, not the personal ones. I love reading my friends' blogs, sure, but I can't really say I care too much about the personal lives of those I don't know. I have no way of really understanding what's going on, and that's fine. What's really getting me excited is seeing people write about issues I care about, like fiscal policy (insert nerd joke here).
The best part, though, is having Google indulge this new addiction with its personalized webpage and Google Reader. I have yet to find a link where I can connect my Google homepage with Google Reader, but in the meantime, I can just put a button at the top of my web browser. Anyway, the point is all this information is at my fingertips, and that makes me giddy. How in the world did people become educated in a multitude of areas before the internet?
Some of the first blogs added are The Fix, Marginal Revolution and Economics Unbound. I've also got another one for Senate races and nanotechnology. In fact, you can see these blogs if you like - they're now on the sidebar. I'll be adding more as I see fit.
Seeing all these blogs and all this information reminds me of something I heard back at Mizzou from Dean Robby Rob (Rob Logan, former Dean of Undergraduate Studies in the School of Journalism). He said that the best writers he ever knew were also the most informed people he ever knew, and the only reason they are that way is because they spend an inordinate amount of time reading. At the time I thought to myself, "Well, I'm never becoming well-informed; I hate reading." I'm glad I got out of that phase. There is so much cool stuff going on right now I find it impossible not to be interested. There is just one more question I can't answer:
Where do I send the creators of Google and RSS feeds an e-Valentines Day card? I love them.
A new way to read
RSS and XML
I download it all
It's blogs.
Now, before you get on your high horse telling me I-told-you-so, I have to add a disclaimer: it's the professional blogs I'm falling in love with, not the personal ones. I love reading my friends' blogs, sure, but I can't really say I care too much about the personal lives of those I don't know. I have no way of really understanding what's going on, and that's fine. What's really getting me excited is seeing people write about issues I care about, like fiscal policy (insert nerd joke here).
The best part, though, is having Google indulge this new addiction with its personalized webpage and Google Reader. I have yet to find a link where I can connect my Google homepage with Google Reader, but in the meantime, I can just put a button at the top of my web browser. Anyway, the point is all this information is at my fingertips, and that makes me giddy. How in the world did people become educated in a multitude of areas before the internet?
Some of the first blogs added are The Fix, Marginal Revolution and Economics Unbound. I've also got another one for Senate races and nanotechnology. In fact, you can see these blogs if you like - they're now on the sidebar. I'll be adding more as I see fit.
Seeing all these blogs and all this information reminds me of something I heard back at Mizzou from Dean Robby Rob (Rob Logan, former Dean of Undergraduate Studies in the School of Journalism). He said that the best writers he ever knew were also the most informed people he ever knew, and the only reason they are that way is because they spend an inordinate amount of time reading. At the time I thought to myself, "Well, I'm never becoming well-informed; I hate reading." I'm glad I got out of that phase. There is so much cool stuff going on right now I find it impossible not to be interested. There is just one more question I can't answer:
Where do I send the creators of Google and RSS feeds an e-Valentines Day card? I love them.
A new way to read
RSS and XML
I download it all
Sunday, February 12, 2006
21, not 3, is the magic number
Went to Seneca Niagara Casino last night. Second time in as many weeks. Won again. Blackjack.
Now that I got my quota for sentence fragments out of the way, I can get to my point.
I love going to casinos. I love the feeling I get when I first walk in and soak in the flashing colors and chimes of the slot machines. I love thinking that in a casino, anything can happen. I even love that there are no clocks on the walls; in a casino, time stands still. You can immerse yourself in this surrealism as long as you have a single chip.
The paradox is I don't like to stay in casinos very long at a time. I like to think of them as ATM machines - go in, get your money, get out. I paint a romantic picture of the casino, but choose to treat them in a cold, calculating manner.
Assuming I'll always win is a very dangerous idea, I know, but as long as I stick to blackjack, I come out ahead. I can't count cards (especially on a 4-deck shoe), but I do alright with the strategy I have. I'd like to pass some of that strategy, both for winning and having a good time in general, along to you:
1. Your luck in blackjack comes in waves. It very flip-flops between winning and losing. The trick, like picking a hot stock, is knowing when to leave the table. You can go on to another table, but staying at the same table all night is bound to kill you. Leave a table if you are up by 40% of what you came in with (ex. bringing $100 to the table and having $140). This rule can be modified if you come back from the grave to break even. That's just as satisfying a feeling as winning early.
2. If you're sitting at a table next to someone negative, get up. I'm not superstitious enough to say the bad karma will nail you, but it can have an impact on the game. Last night I sat next to a woman who acted as if she would never be happy, so she kept losing. I do believe in the power of positive thinking - not that it will change the cards, but if you keep a good outlook, you're more likely to play well. Besides, going to casino, win or lose, is about having a good time. No use in sitting next to someone who's determined to bring everyone down.
3. Never double down on an 11 if the dealer is showing a face card. Some people will disagree with me on this one, but I feel much better not risking double my original bet on one card while waiting to see if the dealer has another face card. Nothing is worse than seeing a 4 come out on your double down, so save those occasions for when it's likely for the dealer to bust anyway.
4. Find the friendly people at the table and talk to them. This is where the free alcohol really comes in handy. Everyone's drinking, and their friends, just like yours, are off at other tables where they could find a seat. So, in the meantime, gotta make more friends! They might even tell you where you can find a really cool bar, club or restaurant when you're done gambling.
(Note to guys: This rule does not mean you can openly hit on girls at your table. Be friendly, and nothing more. Besides, you don't have nearly enough money in your chipstack to impress her.)
5. If it's still possible, take someone who has never been to a casino before. They will either:
- Lose, in which case they'll be very understanding about it, but still have had a good time, because they've never been before. Besides, nothing is funnier than watching someone who has never played instantly turn into a gambling expert. This happened with my sister. She asked me to take her to Atlantic City because she wanted to see a casino. On the way down she read up on craps because of its great odds. We went to Tropicana, and on entering the casino she got a little intimidated because she didn't know how big the craps tables actually were. After a little prodding, she decided to play, and had a great time. While she was having a great time, though, she picked up the game pretty quickly. That's not too surprising, given how smart she is. However, on one roll, the dealer mispaid her. She was on him in a heartbeat. She had some side bets going, and the dealer miscalcuated her winnings. We ended up with two boxmen, and possibly a pit boss, at the table before everything got sorted out - absolutely hilarious. She ended up losing a good chunk, but it was definitely good times. Or, you could be like my friend Ray, and...
- Win. This is fun to watch because it's a new experience, and to them it's like free money. In Ray's case, he had never been to a casino before last night. We started explaining the rules of various table games, and he decided he wanted to play blackjack. The problem: he had only $20 on him, and the cheapest table was $15. He decided to play one hand, at the minimum, just to give it a shot. He sat down with Duane and me behind him to help him out. We had to tell him to put his money down on the table so the dealer could get it, and then to place his chips in the middle of the circle. Everyone at the table started smiling at us because they realized Ray was a newbie. Of course, he hit blackjack. He decided that was enough for him, so he took his $22.50 in winnings and cashed out.
It's a good thing I don't live closer to a casino. With all the free alcohol, I'd probably never go to a bar. Then, since I was already there, I know I'd decide to play "a few hands." There aren't any casinos in the DC area that I've been able to find - yet. I guess I'll just have to find the nearest one and become one of those members that gets a free hotel room every time.
I forgot the haiku originally before Dan reminded me of this unconscionable error.
Gambling addiction?
Just another for the list
At least I'm helpful
Now that I got my quota for sentence fragments out of the way, I can get to my point.
I love going to casinos. I love the feeling I get when I first walk in and soak in the flashing colors and chimes of the slot machines. I love thinking that in a casino, anything can happen. I even love that there are no clocks on the walls; in a casino, time stands still. You can immerse yourself in this surrealism as long as you have a single chip.
The paradox is I don't like to stay in casinos very long at a time. I like to think of them as ATM machines - go in, get your money, get out. I paint a romantic picture of the casino, but choose to treat them in a cold, calculating manner.
Assuming I'll always win is a very dangerous idea, I know, but as long as I stick to blackjack, I come out ahead. I can't count cards (especially on a 4-deck shoe), but I do alright with the strategy I have. I'd like to pass some of that strategy, both for winning and having a good time in general, along to you:
1. Your luck in blackjack comes in waves. It very flip-flops between winning and losing. The trick, like picking a hot stock, is knowing when to leave the table. You can go on to another table, but staying at the same table all night is bound to kill you. Leave a table if you are up by 40% of what you came in with (ex. bringing $100 to the table and having $140). This rule can be modified if you come back from the grave to break even. That's just as satisfying a feeling as winning early.
2. If you're sitting at a table next to someone negative, get up. I'm not superstitious enough to say the bad karma will nail you, but it can have an impact on the game. Last night I sat next to a woman who acted as if she would never be happy, so she kept losing. I do believe in the power of positive thinking - not that it will change the cards, but if you keep a good outlook, you're more likely to play well. Besides, going to casino, win or lose, is about having a good time. No use in sitting next to someone who's determined to bring everyone down.
3. Never double down on an 11 if the dealer is showing a face card. Some people will disagree with me on this one, but I feel much better not risking double my original bet on one card while waiting to see if the dealer has another face card. Nothing is worse than seeing a 4 come out on your double down, so save those occasions for when it's likely for the dealer to bust anyway.
4. Find the friendly people at the table and talk to them. This is where the free alcohol really comes in handy. Everyone's drinking, and their friends, just like yours, are off at other tables where they could find a seat. So, in the meantime, gotta make more friends! They might even tell you where you can find a really cool bar, club or restaurant when you're done gambling.
(Note to guys: This rule does not mean you can openly hit on girls at your table. Be friendly, and nothing more. Besides, you don't have nearly enough money in your chipstack to impress her.)
5. If it's still possible, take someone who has never been to a casino before. They will either:
- Lose, in which case they'll be very understanding about it, but still have had a good time, because they've never been before. Besides, nothing is funnier than watching someone who has never played instantly turn into a gambling expert. This happened with my sister. She asked me to take her to Atlantic City because she wanted to see a casino. On the way down she read up on craps because of its great odds. We went to Tropicana, and on entering the casino she got a little intimidated because she didn't know how big the craps tables actually were. After a little prodding, she decided to play, and had a great time. While she was having a great time, though, she picked up the game pretty quickly. That's not too surprising, given how smart she is. However, on one roll, the dealer mispaid her. She was on him in a heartbeat. She had some side bets going, and the dealer miscalcuated her winnings. We ended up with two boxmen, and possibly a pit boss, at the table before everything got sorted out - absolutely hilarious. She ended up losing a good chunk, but it was definitely good times. Or, you could be like my friend Ray, and...
- Win. This is fun to watch because it's a new experience, and to them it's like free money. In Ray's case, he had never been to a casino before last night. We started explaining the rules of various table games, and he decided he wanted to play blackjack. The problem: he had only $20 on him, and the cheapest table was $15. He decided to play one hand, at the minimum, just to give it a shot. He sat down with Duane and me behind him to help him out. We had to tell him to put his money down on the table so the dealer could get it, and then to place his chips in the middle of the circle. Everyone at the table started smiling at us because they realized Ray was a newbie. Of course, he hit blackjack. He decided that was enough for him, so he took his $22.50 in winnings and cashed out.
It's a good thing I don't live closer to a casino. With all the free alcohol, I'd probably never go to a bar. Then, since I was already there, I know I'd decide to play "a few hands." There aren't any casinos in the DC area that I've been able to find - yet. I guess I'll just have to find the nearest one and become one of those members that gets a free hotel room every time.
I forgot the haiku originally before Dan reminded me of this unconscionable error.
Gambling addiction?
Just another for the list
At least I'm helpful
Friday, February 10, 2006
Another one bites the dust
It's over. It's finally over.
Quin Snyder stepped down today as Missouri's basketball coach.
I cannot tell you how happy I am to hear this.
Don't get me wrong - I don't think he's completely incompetent. He's just good enough to make you think something can happen (esp. after recruiting season) and just bad enough as a game coach to make you want to hit yourself for believing the Tigers could pull it out. We had an Elite 8 run, true, but that came as a mild shock since Quin's team was the first to be ranked as highly as #2 in the AP polls and then fall out of the Top 25.
We always had the talent when I was there. During my time in college I watched three players who were selected in the first round of the NBA Draft and others who were drafted in the second round or became unsigned free agents. We had the players, and Quin had a lot to do with that. He was an excellent recruiter and shot our hopes into the stratosphere. When I got to Columbia, I realized quickly that I went to a basketball school. Our football team was going nowhere, but our basketball team sure was. I couldn't wait to see our team in the Final Four against Duke, UNC, UConn, and the rest of the top-flight schools.
I'm still waiting.
When we had our best chances to become a powerhouse, my sophomore and junior years, Quin never seemed to realize that athletically gifted players could win without hitting free throws and doing the little things, like grabbing rebounds on offense for second chance points. We were consistently losing to fundamentally sound teams, even though we had the better players.
There's a reason college coaches are more likely to become canonized by the students than their NBA counterparts: Being a good coach in college is infinitely more important. Quin never learned how to develop the talent he recruited and mold the players into a single unit. First, the offense revolved around Kareem Rush, and then Rickey Paulding. Having a superstar or go-to guy is one thing, but Missouri had two other pro-level players in Arthur Johnson and Travon Bryant. We could have had an inside-outside attack that would have been unstoppable.
At least all this woulda-coulda-shoulda stuff is over. Quin never lived up to the huge expectations. He's gone from "matinee idol golden-boy" to "embattled coach" and there's very little, if any, chance he can regain the lustre he had. Melvin Watkins, an assistant coach, will be taking over the team for the rest of the season. After that, Missouri's going back to the drawing board once again. Hopefully the new coach will bring back the excitement I used to feel when I saw the Tigers in action.
But if we get our asses kicked by Baylor again, I'll scream for his head, too.
Rollercoaster ride
The tenure of Quin Snyder
Has come to an end
Quin Snyder stepped down today as Missouri's basketball coach.
I cannot tell you how happy I am to hear this.
Don't get me wrong - I don't think he's completely incompetent. He's just good enough to make you think something can happen (esp. after recruiting season) and just bad enough as a game coach to make you want to hit yourself for believing the Tigers could pull it out. We had an Elite 8 run, true, but that came as a mild shock since Quin's team was the first to be ranked as highly as #2 in the AP polls and then fall out of the Top 25.
We always had the talent when I was there. During my time in college I watched three players who were selected in the first round of the NBA Draft and others who were drafted in the second round or became unsigned free agents. We had the players, and Quin had a lot to do with that. He was an excellent recruiter and shot our hopes into the stratosphere. When I got to Columbia, I realized quickly that I went to a basketball school. Our football team was going nowhere, but our basketball team sure was. I couldn't wait to see our team in the Final Four against Duke, UNC, UConn, and the rest of the top-flight schools.
I'm still waiting.
When we had our best chances to become a powerhouse, my sophomore and junior years, Quin never seemed to realize that athletically gifted players could win without hitting free throws and doing the little things, like grabbing rebounds on offense for second chance points. We were consistently losing to fundamentally sound teams, even though we had the better players.
There's a reason college coaches are more likely to become canonized by the students than their NBA counterparts: Being a good coach in college is infinitely more important. Quin never learned how to develop the talent he recruited and mold the players into a single unit. First, the offense revolved around Kareem Rush, and then Rickey Paulding. Having a superstar or go-to guy is one thing, but Missouri had two other pro-level players in Arthur Johnson and Travon Bryant. We could have had an inside-outside attack that would have been unstoppable.
At least all this woulda-coulda-shoulda stuff is over. Quin never lived up to the huge expectations. He's gone from "matinee idol golden-boy" to "embattled coach" and there's very little, if any, chance he can regain the lustre he had. Melvin Watkins, an assistant coach, will be taking over the team for the rest of the season. After that, Missouri's going back to the drawing board once again. Hopefully the new coach will bring back the excitement I used to feel when I saw the Tigers in action.
But if we get our asses kicked by Baylor again, I'll scream for his head, too.
Rollercoaster ride
The tenure of Quin Snyder
Has come to an end
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Put on your singin' shoes
I'm a little strung out right now - just trying to get back into the world of those who do things with their day. Making a schedule and sticking to it is a lot harder than I thought. Thankfully, it's Wednesday, which means tonight will be a welcome respite from the harsh world. Tonight...is KARAOKE.
Every Wednesday night, we gather at On the Rocks (mentioned in a previous post) to practice an ancient Japanese art. This art is not only for the elite; it can be enjoyed by the masses. And trust me, the masses enjoy it. To those who haven't read about OTR, click here. For the enlightened, you already know the charm of the establishment. However, on Karaoke Night, the cast of characters makes this show the best in town. Without further ado, I present to you the players on this grand stage:
NICK MANGINI, the owner, who I've mentioned before, but on Karaoke Night, he always sings "Sweet Caroline" for his wife, CAROLYN MANGINI. We all chime in with "buh-buh-buh." It never gets old.
PATSY, THE KARAOKE KID is the MC for the evening. He's an old Italian guy that may or may not be related to NICK. We've never been able to figure that one out.
TONY can sing "Copacabana" better than anyone, dead or alive. Yes, I'm talking to you, Mr. Sinatra. I wouldn't be surprised if Ol' Blue Eyes used to hang out with our resident senior citizen. The man's a player.
MARISSA, the bartender. She gets me cheap pitchers of Yuengling. She's also super-friendly and not too bad on the eyes. One friend continually wishes to be the bottle opener she keeps in her back pocket.
MARY LOU, bartender (on other days) and country singer. She usually does Shania Twain or something along those lines, but once, at the end of the night, she sang "God Bless America" out of nowhere. Meredith likes to joke with me that this girl is going to seduce me one of these nights when she's not there.
BARRY comes about once or twice a month. He's our age, so of course he loves Old School. He shows his appreciation for the film by only singing "Total Eclipse of the Heart." Of course, he adds "fuckin'" in all the right places.
The HOCKEY LESBIANS have been absent recently, but we talked to them, and they'll be back tonight! They can really sing, too. Their voices are perfect for Led Zeppelin and Guns 'n Roses. One of them does a mean Janis Joplin, too. I love them.
CHARLIE is the cook at OTR. How a recovering alcoholic stays on the wagon for three years while working at a bar, I'll never know. You have to give him credit, though, even when he's butchering Ozzy or some other heavy metal song.
As for the Simon students, we cover the whole spectrum of musical tastes:
MARCO loves him some boy-band, but his greatest feat to date was singing "Cowboy, Take Me Away" by himself. And to think, only a month ago he didn't even come to karaoke. I have much respect for this.
JEREMY knows damn near every Johnny Cash song, and he can do all of them justice. He usually gets the party going, so I've got nothing but love for the Texan.
TONA doesn't know many songs in English, but he did know a Kenny Rogers song. He'll try anything, though, so how can you fault him?
RAY is our representative from the Grunge Era. He can do anything from '91 to '95.
ANIK and ADAM are two of the reliable standbys. They've entertained us in several different ways. The first time ADAM and RAY sang was with ANIK on "All the Small Things." PATSY called them "Anik and...The Boys" because he didn't have anyone else's name on the card. Good times.
KYLE's favorite song is "Boyz 'n the Hood" by Dynamite Hack. It's appropriate, given how white he is. One of the funniest moments in Karaoke history occurred when PATSY couldn't read KYLE's card, so he called him KY6 - I guess the L and E were written too closely together. The name stuck. Even when not at OTR, that's what everyone calls him now.
And then there's me, but you probably know how I roll. Long story short - I'm a Karaoke whore. I'll do 'em all. Vanilla Ice, Garth Brooks, Big Bad Voodoo Daddy, you name it. I always make sure to put down Tuscaloosa, AL on the card. PATSY tries to remember the name of my hometown at the beginning of the night before I've handed him a card, but he usually says Tallahatchee, TN. That's alright. I'll gladly take that over not having Karaoke at all.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some singing to do.
Karaoke is
An ancient Japanese art
That we all enjoy
Every Wednesday night, we gather at On the Rocks (mentioned in a previous post) to practice an ancient Japanese art. This art is not only for the elite; it can be enjoyed by the masses. And trust me, the masses enjoy it. To those who haven't read about OTR, click here. For the enlightened, you already know the charm of the establishment. However, on Karaoke Night, the cast of characters makes this show the best in town. Without further ado, I present to you the players on this grand stage:
NICK MANGINI, the owner, who I've mentioned before, but on Karaoke Night, he always sings "Sweet Caroline" for his wife, CAROLYN MANGINI. We all chime in with "buh-buh-buh." It never gets old.
PATSY, THE KARAOKE KID is the MC for the evening. He's an old Italian guy that may or may not be related to NICK. We've never been able to figure that one out.
TONY can sing "Copacabana" better than anyone, dead or alive. Yes, I'm talking to you, Mr. Sinatra. I wouldn't be surprised if Ol' Blue Eyes used to hang out with our resident senior citizen. The man's a player.
MARISSA, the bartender. She gets me cheap pitchers of Yuengling. She's also super-friendly and not too bad on the eyes. One friend continually wishes to be the bottle opener she keeps in her back pocket.
MARY LOU, bartender (on other days) and country singer. She usually does Shania Twain or something along those lines, but once, at the end of the night, she sang "God Bless America" out of nowhere. Meredith likes to joke with me that this girl is going to seduce me one of these nights when she's not there.
BARRY comes about once or twice a month. He's our age, so of course he loves Old School. He shows his appreciation for the film by only singing "Total Eclipse of the Heart." Of course, he adds "fuckin'" in all the right places.
The HOCKEY LESBIANS have been absent recently, but we talked to them, and they'll be back tonight! They can really sing, too. Their voices are perfect for Led Zeppelin and Guns 'n Roses. One of them does a mean Janis Joplin, too. I love them.
CHARLIE is the cook at OTR. How a recovering alcoholic stays on the wagon for three years while working at a bar, I'll never know. You have to give him credit, though, even when he's butchering Ozzy or some other heavy metal song.
As for the Simon students, we cover the whole spectrum of musical tastes:
MARCO loves him some boy-band, but his greatest feat to date was singing "Cowboy, Take Me Away" by himself. And to think, only a month ago he didn't even come to karaoke. I have much respect for this.
JEREMY knows damn near every Johnny Cash song, and he can do all of them justice. He usually gets the party going, so I've got nothing but love for the Texan.
TONA doesn't know many songs in English, but he did know a Kenny Rogers song. He'll try anything, though, so how can you fault him?
RAY is our representative from the Grunge Era. He can do anything from '91 to '95.
ANIK and ADAM are two of the reliable standbys. They've entertained us in several different ways. The first time ADAM and RAY sang was with ANIK on "All the Small Things." PATSY called them "Anik and...The Boys" because he didn't have anyone else's name on the card. Good times.
KYLE's favorite song is "Boyz 'n the Hood" by Dynamite Hack. It's appropriate, given how white he is. One of the funniest moments in Karaoke history occurred when PATSY couldn't read KYLE's card, so he called him KY6 - I guess the L and E were written too closely together. The name stuck. Even when not at OTR, that's what everyone calls him now.
And then there's me, but you probably know how I roll. Long story short - I'm a Karaoke whore. I'll do 'em all. Vanilla Ice, Garth Brooks, Big Bad Voodoo Daddy, you name it. I always make sure to put down Tuscaloosa, AL on the card. PATSY tries to remember the name of my hometown at the beginning of the night before I've handed him a card, but he usually says Tallahatchee, TN. That's alright. I'll gladly take that over not having Karaoke at all.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some singing to do.
Karaoke is
An ancient Japanese art
That we all enjoy
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
OCD? Not me
Today's been a busy day. At 10 AM, I started volunteering at the Monroe County Democratic Committee (MCDC). At 3, I left to workout, and then I got to school at 4:30 for a meeting before class, which will last until 8:50. Yeah, I'm writing this during class, but that really doesn't matter.
What I found so surprising is how hard it can be to really fit in all the stuff you want to do during the day. After not having anything to do during my days, having a full day is a strange experience. I used to wonder why you never saw really athletic people who knew a lot about music, or really artsy people that can run circles around you. I don't anymore.
There is just not enough time in one day to have a great workout, find new music, read new and interesting articles/books, and still do all the things you have to do (work, class, pay bills, whatever). It stands to reason that a full-time job, especially a demanding one, makes it even harder. As someone who wants to be able to do everything, this is very unsettling. I really want to talk about things other than work. I want to talk about music and books and sports and politics and be able to hold my own in every arena. Will this become impossible once I venture out into the real world?
This idea really hit me while I was home before I went to work out. I caught some of
Sports Guy's Links of the Day and got sucked in so long I didn't get to work out as long as I wanted. I started thinking about the evils of TV/internet and was ready to banish them forever. Of course, blogs are another way to get sucked in, so I guess that would make me a hypocrite. I know it comes down to priorities and discipline, blah, blah, blah.
I guess I just need to get hyper-scheduled. I hope BlackBerry resumes its service soon.
I need a schedule
For too long I've been idling
Nothing accomplished
What I found so surprising is how hard it can be to really fit in all the stuff you want to do during the day. After not having anything to do during my days, having a full day is a strange experience. I used to wonder why you never saw really athletic people who knew a lot about music, or really artsy people that can run circles around you. I don't anymore.
There is just not enough time in one day to have a great workout, find new music, read new and interesting articles/books, and still do all the things you have to do (work, class, pay bills, whatever). It stands to reason that a full-time job, especially a demanding one, makes it even harder. As someone who wants to be able to do everything, this is very unsettling. I really want to talk about things other than work. I want to talk about music and books and sports and politics and be able to hold my own in every arena. Will this become impossible once I venture out into the real world?
This idea really hit me while I was home before I went to work out. I caught some of
Sports Guy's Links of the Day and got sucked in so long I didn't get to work out as long as I wanted. I started thinking about the evils of TV/internet and was ready to banish them forever. Of course, blogs are another way to get sucked in, so I guess that would make me a hypocrite. I know it comes down to priorities and discipline, blah, blah, blah.
I guess I just need to get hyper-scheduled. I hope BlackBerry resumes its service soon.
I need a schedule
For too long I've been idling
Nothing accomplished
Monday, February 06, 2006
Imagine this entire post is spoken by an over-the-top minister
Grieve with me, friends, for today we mourn the loss of sports we care enough about to watch during the regular season. We will now suffer through the next month as basketball and hockey are all that is on. For those of you who wish to say the Pro Bowl is next week, I say to you, you are an idiot. To the rest of you, I dearly hope you can find it in your hearts to carry on through this bleak month, and take solace in the fact that it is the shortest month of the year.
There is hope found in every loss, and in this loss comes the hope that the World Baseball Classic will not suck, and with it the hope A-Rod will not choke when the U.S. plays the Dominican Republic in the championship. I know only one of those hopes is attainable, but in these troubled times, we must find faith wherever faith can be found.
Do not be worried if that faith is slow to come. It is understandable, given that all we have now are sports in which more than half the teams make the playoffs each year. With this challenge comes an opportunity: learn to spell the names of all the players for your local NHL team. Even remembering their names is a victory in itself.
If you do not have a local hockey team, or if that team is the Blues, other challenges await. The NFL Draft is approaching, and with it comes rampant speculation. Indulge yourself in that speculation, for speculation for speculation's sake is not a sin. Predict all seven rounds if you must, including the supplemental picks. For those who find themselves particularly bereaved, anticipate the trades, even those coming during the second day. You will find yourself so immersed in minutia of I-AA defensive tackles that you won't even notice the latest bonehead trade from Isiah Thomas.
Do not fear, my flock. Yes, the dark is night, but with the dark comes the arrival of a new day. Soon, we will hear, "Pitchers and catchers report today" and rejoice!
And if that all fails, I hear there's some Arena League Football on.
Such beautiful words
Pitchers and catchers report
I can hardly wait
There is hope found in every loss, and in this loss comes the hope that the World Baseball Classic will not suck, and with it the hope A-Rod will not choke when the U.S. plays the Dominican Republic in the championship. I know only one of those hopes is attainable, but in these troubled times, we must find faith wherever faith can be found.
Do not be worried if that faith is slow to come. It is understandable, given that all we have now are sports in which more than half the teams make the playoffs each year. With this challenge comes an opportunity: learn to spell the names of all the players for your local NHL team. Even remembering their names is a victory in itself.
If you do not have a local hockey team, or if that team is the Blues, other challenges await. The NFL Draft is approaching, and with it comes rampant speculation. Indulge yourself in that speculation, for speculation for speculation's sake is not a sin. Predict all seven rounds if you must, including the supplemental picks. For those who find themselves particularly bereaved, anticipate the trades, even those coming during the second day. You will find yourself so immersed in minutia of I-AA defensive tackles that you won't even notice the latest bonehead trade from Isiah Thomas.
Do not fear, my flock. Yes, the dark is night, but with the dark comes the arrival of a new day. Soon, we will hear, "Pitchers and catchers report today" and rejoice!
And if that all fails, I hear there's some Arena League Football on.
Such beautiful words
Pitchers and catchers report
I can hardly wait
Saturday, February 04, 2006
The road not-so-less travelled
I just talked to Dan (last name confidential), and one of the topics that came up was our blogs. I was telling him some of the things I'm looking to do with mine, and it got me thinking: In what direction do I want to take this blog? For most, a blog is an online journal, a way to put daily thoughts and actions into words. Some are more personal than others, but the general topics are the same. Others use it as a portal to other websites - funny links, etc. Another group uses blogs to give their opinions on current events, such as news or sports. Some, like Clark, tell a story with theirs (new post, by the way - good stuff). A final group uses their blogs in a multitude of ways.
I started to wonder - should I stay focused on one particular range of topics, or should I go all over the place? I know it's my blog and I can do whatever I want, but I thought that maybe if I forced myself to stick with one realm of the universe, it would become more challenging. That's the first reason I started this blog: I needed something that forced me to think and was a little more active than reading.
If I stuck to one topic, however, people, including friends, that knew nothing of the topic would probably have no interest in reading the blog. I didn't want to cut anyone off; I now see the value in using blogs to keep tabs on your friends that live in faraway locales.
In the end, I decided to make this a random-as-hell blog. I think it best fits my personality, anyway. Warning: Some posts will be of absolutely no interest to you. I'm sure that's already happened, but when I start rambling about sports, for example, no doubt a few people will tune out. I'll get over it someday.
Glad to have that settled.
A blog about blogs
We call this a metablog
Mind-blowing, I know
I started to wonder - should I stay focused on one particular range of topics, or should I go all over the place? I know it's my blog and I can do whatever I want, but I thought that maybe if I forced myself to stick with one realm of the universe, it would become more challenging. That's the first reason I started this blog: I needed something that forced me to think and was a little more active than reading.
If I stuck to one topic, however, people, including friends, that knew nothing of the topic would probably have no interest in reading the blog. I didn't want to cut anyone off; I now see the value in using blogs to keep tabs on your friends that live in faraway locales.
In the end, I decided to make this a random-as-hell blog. I think it best fits my personality, anyway. Warning: Some posts will be of absolutely no interest to you. I'm sure that's already happened, but when I start rambling about sports, for example, no doubt a few people will tune out. I'll get over it someday.
Glad to have that settled.
A blog about blogs
We call this a metablog
Mind-blowing, I know
Thursday, February 02, 2006
First Arby's, then the world!
This post is coming to you from an Arby’s in Rochester. I’m at an Arby’s in Rochester because I had a craving for it. Is this normal? People usually crave chocolate or something very expensive. Not me – I crave roast beef sandwiches and homestyle fries. I guess this is because I ate so much fast food growing up. Since my sister and I were in plays and sports year-round, it meant we were always grabbing food on the go. I don’t think my family has had more than five sit-down dinners at home since I was 10. I guess this Arby’s visit is just a retreat to my childhood. Mmmm, grease.
On a completely unrelated note, I’ve been keeping tabs on who’s been visiting the blog. Not “Bush wiretapping without a warrant” kind of keeping tabs, but general location and such. You can do it too at Statcounter. It’s pretty nifty, and a fun way to waste time (as if blogging and reading other people’s blogs isn’t enough). Some of the locations are expected, such as Rochester and Fort Worth. Some, however, have come completely out of left field. First, there was Albuquerque – I don’t think I know anyone who lives in Albuquerque. The weirdest, though, have been from the international community. I’ve gotten hits from Liverpool, England and Switzerland…and Yemen! Someone in Yemen has actually seen this blog. I’m sure it was just from the random blog link, but still, I think this is pretty cool. The level of amusement this gives me probably just solidified my status as a sad, sad individual, but for now I will bask in the glory that comes from having an internationally read blog. Check that. I will now give myself a tracheotomy with a steak knife.
The most random post
In my history blogging
I need new topics
On a completely unrelated note, I’ve been keeping tabs on who’s been visiting the blog. Not “Bush wiretapping without a warrant” kind of keeping tabs, but general location and such. You can do it too at Statcounter. It’s pretty nifty, and a fun way to waste time (as if blogging and reading other people’s blogs isn’t enough). Some of the locations are expected, such as Rochester and Fort Worth. Some, however, have come completely out of left field. First, there was Albuquerque – I don’t think I know anyone who lives in Albuquerque. The weirdest, though, have been from the international community. I’ve gotten hits from Liverpool, England and Switzerland…and Yemen! Someone in Yemen has actually seen this blog. I’m sure it was just from the random blog link, but still, I think this is pretty cool. The level of amusement this gives me probably just solidified my status as a sad, sad individual, but for now I will bask in the glory that comes from having an internationally read blog. Check that. I will now give myself a tracheotomy with a steak knife.
The most random post
In my history blogging
I need new topics
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Maybe I should get a hook for my hand, too
According to the 12 Steps, the first step is admitting powerlessness over the addiction. Well, the time is now - I must come clean.
I am addicted to bowling.
Three weeks ago my friend Tona suggested we go bowling after class. I had no plans, and hadn't bowled but a few times in the past year, so I went along. Now it's a Tuesday night tradition, set in stone. I will not argue about this (first one to recognize that line wins a prize!).
I've gotten so into it, that I've decided to buy my own pair of bowling shoes. This is actually a good investment: renting shoes at the bowling alley costs $4 every time. If I go once a week for the next 15 weeks (roughly the number of Tuesdays left in the school year), that's $60. I have found several shoes for less than $60, hence, I will come out better in the end if I go ahead and buy the shoes now.
What I didn't know was how many types of bowling shoes exist out in the world. There are shoes made only for right-handed bowlers, and shoes specifically for left-handed bowlers. Meredith thinks this might be because there will be different weights in the shoes to better help you balance. I have no idea, so this sounds as reasonable as anything else. If you know, pass on the knowledge. I'm sure everyone would appreciate it.
Right now I'm watching an eBay auction for a sweet pair that you can find here. I tried buying some from its "Buy It Now" option, but PayPal was being weird. Apparently I needed a number to buy the shoes that I wouldn't get until my next credit card statement. What the hell?! Oh well, I'll just go to Amazon or some place like that to buy them if the auction doesn't work out. Don't worry, I've already been to about a dozen bowling websites. Most of the shoes on those sites are way too expensive for a hack like me.
Hopefully I'll get my shoes before next Tuesday. Then, after I beat my all-time best of 153 (see, I told you I was a hack), I can say "it's the shoes." And then I'll be cool. Or something like that.
Obsessed with bowling
I will dominate them all
Secret weapon? Shoes
I am addicted to bowling.
Three weeks ago my friend Tona suggested we go bowling after class. I had no plans, and hadn't bowled but a few times in the past year, so I went along. Now it's a Tuesday night tradition, set in stone. I will not argue about this (first one to recognize that line wins a prize!).
I've gotten so into it, that I've decided to buy my own pair of bowling shoes. This is actually a good investment: renting shoes at the bowling alley costs $4 every time. If I go once a week for the next 15 weeks (roughly the number of Tuesdays left in the school year), that's $60. I have found several shoes for less than $60, hence, I will come out better in the end if I go ahead and buy the shoes now.
What I didn't know was how many types of bowling shoes exist out in the world. There are shoes made only for right-handed bowlers, and shoes specifically for left-handed bowlers. Meredith thinks this might be because there will be different weights in the shoes to better help you balance. I have no idea, so this sounds as reasonable as anything else. If you know, pass on the knowledge. I'm sure everyone would appreciate it.
Right now I'm watching an eBay auction for a sweet pair that you can find here. I tried buying some from its "Buy It Now" option, but PayPal was being weird. Apparently I needed a number to buy the shoes that I wouldn't get until my next credit card statement. What the hell?! Oh well, I'll just go to Amazon or some place like that to buy them if the auction doesn't work out. Don't worry, I've already been to about a dozen bowling websites. Most of the shoes on those sites are way too expensive for a hack like me.
Hopefully I'll get my shoes before next Tuesday. Then, after I beat my all-time best of 153 (see, I told you I was a hack), I can say "it's the shoes." And then I'll be cool. Or something like that.
Obsessed with bowling
I will dominate them all
Secret weapon? Shoes
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
