Undertaking Catharsis - Breathe

So I recently went to a wake, nobody likes wakes, funerals or anything associated with the death of someone you know and love. Whether it be a friend, acquaintance or family member, nobody is ever fully prepared for bereavement. I have the tendency to be antisocial at these gatherings. Perhaps it is a lack of experience, maybe it is just the grim reality of situation. I just read here that you don't have to be lying down for your wake presentation. But you most certainly wouldn't want to be treated like this.

Maybe if I was able to suspend my disbelief with regards to the event itself, I could loosen up. Engage in conversations with people from the past that you end up only seeing at weddings and funerals. Perhaps if these conversations didn't seem as inorganic as ones you have with people you went to school with that you didn't get along with that you haven't seen in ages, I'd feel a little more comfortable. Sure people evolve, but finding that common ground can be somewhat awkward. Maybe I should develop a routine better than the one I have; getting in/out in record time. Maybe I should crack a smile, a joke, a drink, a smoke for old times' sake, tell a story about glory and avoid one to gory. Maybe it would ease the pain, I can't feign emotion well. When I'm melancholy, it's crystal clear.

If you ever see me at a wake and funeral and I don't converse with you or see you, don't be offended. When I get older and attend more of these rites of passage, I'll hopefully get better at them. But for now, I'll work on my coping mechanisms.

Down With Disease

So recently I went to the emergency room on a Friday morning because my primary care physician doesn't take appointments on Fridays (what a sweet gig, apparently he's off on Wednesdays as well and he only takes cash - that's what I get for having such outstanding health insurance coverage). For the past week, I've have what I consider all the symptoms of the plague. I can now relate to the plight of the caged animal or even the common housepet that doesn't get out much.

Apparently, I have bronchitis and sinusitus (which wasn't a big surprise as I've been fighting a battle with my left nostril for about a year now - nothing major enough that needed any treatment though). Now I rarely get sick, ever so this whole debacle has been my own personal hell. I'm sick of coughing, I'm sick of drinking fluids, keeping food down is a struggle. I'm not vomiting, but every meal is a journey.

And the medication, who doesn't enjoy a nice alphabet soup? I swear they mix up the neglected letters of the alphabet like q, y, z and x just to make things more difficult for the general public. I don't think I would have had the patience to work with sick people. I wouldn't put up with my erratic behavior during my sick tenure.

I think we all suffer from some sort of seasonal affective disorder and it is rather SAD literally. Only someone that is truly evil can embrace the chill of the winter months. I'm convince skiing is a cult, people hurling themselves down mountains like that with their red faces and their chapstick infused smiles. I don't believe it for a second. Hot beverages and soup burns the roof of your mouth. Again, more patience is required to be slopeside. And these apre ski parties I always hear about, maybe I'm never drunk enough. Or maybe the people at these parties on the most part are truly devoid of levity and debauchery. Doesn't seem like it's my kind of party.

Where's My Jean Tux, Steve Martin?

So I'm in the middle of this weight loss competition along the lines of the reality TV phenomenon "The Biggest Loser" (yes, I call it a phenomenon because even though people in general are perpetually obese, even they get sick of seeing people being made into feel good stories as they shed weight). As a result of losing about 20 pounds in 2 months, I had to go buy new pants. My weight doesn't fluctuate that much. It usually goes up rather than down, but I'm a pack rat so I usually keep most of my clothes so I hadn't encountered this problem until now. It's sad when you are walking into the mall and the waist of your pants is orbiting around your thighs like a moving hula hoop or a ring of the planet Saturn.

So why not just buy a belt. I dislike belts with a passion. I have enough trouble with the way the elastic band around my underwear constricts my waist and leaves a mark. I reluctantly click it and ticket when I drive because I don't want to be a crash test dummy. Why would I strap some cowhide with a buckle around my waist? I have yet to meet a buckle that feels good. So I hit the Old Navy and struggle to find my size.

I'm probably a 37 / 31 (which may exist, but I've never seen it). Regular, Loose, Extra Loose, Skinny, I feel like I'm at the Denim Dairy Queen, so many choices. They don't make jeans that fit me - slightly chunky with a bit of a beer gut, I'm beginning to sound like a drunk smothered in peanut butter. My waist needs to be measured the way an optometrist customs fits your eyes for contact lenses. I'm somewhat of a complicated fit. A length of 30 shows my inordinate supply of socks I got from the bowling alley with their name (Boston Bowl) and an american flag logo emblazed on the ankle a couple of years ago. A length of 32 will make the bottoms of the jeans puddle fodder. I wear the 30 really low perhaps so a little pube.

The gal in the fitting room is probably between the ages of 16 and 19 (to put it in a historical perspective, people were doing bad Billy Joel "We Didn't Start The Fire" karaoke around the time she was born), not too skinny, not too obtuse. I'm sure I'm not the only one who has had the mall fantasy of playing a little base hit bingo with her or someone like her. Maybe some women may want to explore their own girl power. (Of course I went there, I'm a male, you expect me to) This makes me wonder why someone doesn't make an 'American Pie' like movie about the mall (perhaps because malls lack inherent originality and are populated with moms, their kids and teens - people who tend to consume their environment rather than run amok discovering its subtle nuances and uniquities). You were expecting a great story about me trying on 10 different pairs of pants. I'm not a girl, I was alone, so there was no fanfare in front of a mirror.

How long does it take to wash your hands after you tinkle or poop? 30 seconds? That is if you even wash them. I usually wash them, but after pants shopping I lost my patience in the mall. I had to use the public restroom in the mall. The bathroom was small because I went to the mall that time forgot (it looked like it was built around the time the Minneapolis Metrodome was built). It only had two sinks and there were 4 or 5 people hanging out around the sink by the time I finished my wizz. 2 of them were using the sink, none of them were looking in my direction. They knew I was there, but they probably thought I was unsanitary and would leave after peeing. Usually, I wouldn't care, but you are washing your hands not taking a bath. Sure, I could have hung out with them, but I would've had to relate to these people on a personal level. I can't think of anything I would want to talk to these people about, I'll never ever see them again, what's the point? So I rolled out without anyone noticing me. I may start carrying hand sanitizer on me.

I'm trying to broaden my audience - That was a entertaining blog for women and gays not in the military.

[Consolation Brackets]

I'll probably never win an election in my life. Sure people like me, but when it comes time to politick, I'm not good at it. I lost my homeroom's student council election in 7th grade (I think I got two votes, the guy who won never attended any of the meetings, I never filled in as the alternate in protest), I lost the class presidency in 10th grade (I was never serious about it, I ran against 10 other people). Which makes me wonder why anyone would cover college football with a passion. It seems like a fool's game.

Big time college football is a cash cow. The revenue stream it creates for colleges and universities nationwide is immense. These institutions can pack 80,000 strong into a rolling concourse of bleachers on half a dozen weekends every Autumn. Geographically displaced into conferences, a hundred or so teams compete for supremacy and bragging rights. Yet only 20 or so have a legitimate chance of making a run at the national championship. This is true because politics and controversy dictate the landscape of big time college football. Your reputation precedes you everywhere you go. Win and you are golden, lose and you're history. That's the way it should be, but it isn't a level playing field.

Some teams play easy non-conference schedules, some teams play in tough conferences with many talented teams. What is a quality win? My 3 losses are better than your 2 losses. The verdict is currently determined by polls consisting of media members, former coaches, former players and a statistical formulaic analysis of hard data. The shades of gray are ultimately behind my love/hate relationship of college football. I was never a big fan of college football growing up, but recently I've accepted it for what it is. I think Chuck Klosterman put it best when he explained his passion for the sport when he summed it up as an 'event-oriented' experience.

That's what it is - it's hundred year old rivalries, it's meaningless bowl games that'll be forgotten seconds after they transpire, it's a hype machine that lives in the moment, it's all that and then some and then not as much.

With that being said, if Missouri meets West Virginia in the BCS Title Game in New Orleans to kick off 2008, it is what it is. There is no playoff, sure it would bring some clarity to an imperfect system, but boosters all over that continental 48 states would complaining about seeding. And any blowhard that says 'You can't have a playoff because you are already taking kids out of the classroom enough' needs to sit on it. These are grown ass kids, they can wipe their own bums and make their own decisions. Players that'll get drafted in the NFL can get their degrees during the NFL offseason in later years. And for the other players, people can accelerate their course loads to graduate in 2 and a half years. Missing class time, it's not like you get a tuition reimbursement for perfect attendance, you can't even get half price on books you sell back to the bookstore after the course is done, give me a break.

Speaking of colleges and politics - instead of having a Miss USA pageant, they should have a Miss NCAA pageant. You get all the hottest ladies at campuses nationwide (real broads too, not any of these pageant regular Habitat For Humanity gals, I'm talking about the ones that pose in Playboy 'Girls Of Insert Conference Here' issues). It doesn't even have to be sanctioned. You could have traditional rounds like swim wear and evening gown. You could also have rounds like Party Etiquette (just a fancy name for congeniality) and Wet T-Shirt. I'm just making this up, but I could see this going straight to DVD or PPV. Hell, the pageant held at each school would be worth it.

Like A Leopard In A Leotard

I think I'm beginning to understand why people hate cliches. I'm not just talking about cliched things (I've despised those for years), I'm really talking about phrases that are cliches. I realized this as I drove home from work into the depths of a foggy night. No, it wasn't London Fog, it wasn't even Colorado Rockies starting pitcher Josh Fogg or the old band Foghat and the fog definitely wasn't thicker than split pea soup. Cliches are like verbal crutches for unoriginal bastards. I think I know why my teachers didn't want me to use cliches because they wanted me to be unique in my eloquence. I'd take a cliche, add sarcasm and spin it on its head. It's easy to understand verbally, but as written word, there lies the degree of difficulty.

I could dive off the high board (who am I kidding, I would never dive off the high board, my nerves would prevent me from even getting that high, I'd have to be on drugs. No, I'm not currently on any drugs (at least any hard ones...and by hard, I mean cake icing)) and do the triple lindy like Dangerfield did in Back To School (if you've never seen it, go and watch it at your leisure (it features Robert Downey Jr. - if you ever thought he was anything more than a mediocre actor, you get your jollies from getting off to an elbow macaroni sculpture of him you made while watching Zodiac). Sidebar: I don't have enough parentheses to contain my abundance of thought filled tangents.

But with difficulty comes misunderstanding. I'll stick to diving into shallow hotel pools. That's a risk I'm willing to take. I will actively seek out what it would feel like to be 'your brain on drugs'. Just don't bang my head with a skillet any time soon. That's just stupid. Which comes to the lesson of this tale (I originally typed the word tail instead - as a result I know have two lessons)....

a) spellcheck doesn't prevent homonym misusage
b) don't get into fights on the Internet - it's one thing to have a healthy debate about topical matter (Tabasco sauce, fieldturf, underwire, cold remedies, etc.), but when tempers Flair (intentional) up for real, you need to put down the weapon and step away from the computer.

I'm spent like Parker Brothers loot (although I've seen ads for a version of Monopoly without the colored money notes anymore instead they have debit cards that are stuck into mini-computers that keep track of your totals - technology trumps nostalgia - I was never a big Monopoly guy, I was never greedy enough to win).

Trail Of Beers

So last weekend, I went to a casino situated on Native American land. I found irony in the fact that I did not see one Native American in the casino while I was there. Maybe I wasn't looking hard enough or maybe I saw one or more, but have a stereotypical take on Native Americans. Not like I was expecting Wahoo McDaniel to come out hit me with an axe handle, but I would've taken Tatanka strut skipping in a circle whooping it up as a consolation prize. Maybe it was for the best as there was a great dichotomy in the attitudes of your average casino patron. It was either someone who was cold, callous, desperate, shrewd, avaricious, tobaccy or it was someone who was drunk, horny, excitable, happy, carefree, vivacious.

At any rate, more irony as you are fulfilling a reservation at the reservation when you check into the casino hotel. I felt as if I needed an Incredible Hulk (Hennessey, a cognac (brown) mixed with Hpnotiq, a blend of fruit juices and cognac (blue) which turns green like the comic character).

I'm trying to diet as part of an on-going trend of weight loss competitions amongst groups of people ala the reality show 'The Biggest Loser'. I'm doing decently, it's a good motivational tool to lose weight and improve the quality of your life. It isn't easy and the holidays are a good test to one's willpower. I've managed to stay away from most sweets. My first question when I started this thing was what could I booze with? I've moderated my alcoholic intake, the occasional beer. I don't buy into light beer, it's a scam. Bacardi and Diet Cola isn't bad. I can't believe I stayed away from Bacardi all these years. It was my parents' vacation libation, I probably held a grudge because they would ask me to make them that concoction constantly. I stayed away from Captain Morgan for a shorter period of my life, but grew to enjoy it with Ginger Ale after years of loathing the smell of it.

So here's to gluttony on Thanksgiving. I probably won't be as bad as I am on most years. But I'll leave you with this thought. Why doesn't anyone recreate the 2nd Thanksgiving? It would be hilarious. There would probably be a couple of people who didn't make it back. Grace would include the thought of being thankful that the feast could become an annual event. I'm sure they tweaked the meal a bit. They were probably able to get rid of practices that they didn't like. But the mashed potatoes were probably still little lumpy and the gravy was probably a trifle thin.

Presidence Under Some Arrangement

I was born during an election year. It was the year the peanut farmer took on the veteran Hollywood actor. And show business won, Ronald Reagan would go onto rule the nation for 8 years. I don't remember much about Reagan except he reminded me of that third grandpa I never had. His wife Nancy was grandma and she along with Punky Brewster told me to 'Just Say No'. I didn't really say much until I was in elementary school anyway and most of it was school related. Saying 'yes' was like a curse word because I took everything literally.

But enough about me, let's stop beating around the bush and briefly address the elder Bush. He was Reagan's VP and he was another old fart who guided us through that brief skermish called Desert Storm. I remember Lee Greenwood scored a hit with 'Proud To Be An American', I was disappointed that Rick Derringer's theme for Hulk Hogan 'Real American' didn't own the slot of captivating the nation in the early 1990s during this conflict. But then again, Hulkamania was waning at that point. Figuratively speaking, we needed someone to moon us in the 1990s.

We got our wish with Bill Clinton, a charismatic younger gentleman who took up for the Democrats as the Republican wave of the 1980s was passing by. Bill was a ambiguously lovable yet immoral figure who had sexual relations with a woman that wasn't his wife. It was a sign of the times that he was able to come out looking like a bouquet of roses after that debacle. That's politics for you, this was an era where the most ignominious figure of the era was O.J. Simpson, a man whom all the evidence pointed to him killing his own wife, but he was absolved of the crime by a jury that couldn't prove him guilty. This would mark the beginning of the rise of tabloid culture where the general public would seek out famous people's dirty laundry and put it out on the proverbial clothesline of popular consumption.

This leads us to another Bush, the prior Bush's son. The class clown, The Lone Star Forrest Gump, G.W. would lead the nation in an ever changing world full of terrorism, devastating natural disasters and untenable global conflict with a shit eating grin. Soldiers are scarce and the ruckus is a plenty. Never has the nation been more divided about a leader in my lifetime. In a two-party political system such as the U.S., you either like or dislike the figurehead.

Sure it's easy to simplify the situation, but in 2007, there are shades of grey. Anyone can get on the Internet and espouse about just about anything from video footage of themselves and other lighting their smelly farts on fire to a harangue about the ill will of sweatshops an ocean away producing cheap goods with even cheaper labor. There are shades of gray, what is right, what is wrong? Do we even know anymore? There is no cut and dry answer.

This leads us to another election. The current Bush can't serve another term and we are searching for another leader. I don't really follow politics on nothing more than what's on the surface. My opinions are purely from a visceral perspective. I see Billy's wife and Barack Obama getting a lot of pub on the Democratic side. Some say they'd form a ticket of a woman and an African-American and pool their demographic. Politicians are supposed to serve the people, but moreso they serve their own self-interests instead of being altruistic figures. It would be an interesting duo. A nation would be divided, there are enough people that would support this unprecedented ticket yet there are just as many that would be unwilling to yield to history in the making.

On the other side, you have what appears to be a dozen different fellows trying to keep the ball in the Republican court at the top of the helm. Somebody has gotta step up, whomever is "Most Likely To Succeed" or fulfills whatever requisite superlative that's in vogue on the day the hammer drops will represent. I abhor primary elections in this day and age. How can you let a state like Iowa play such a pivotal role in determining who is going to run the nation? Name four notable things to ever come out of Iowa. (I think I'm being generous with the number four here)

Politics is show business, this is why a C student with the Kodak smile and Ric Flair swagger can thrive within the legislative climate. I'm unenrolled, sometimes I abstain from voting. People tell me I should vote all the time. I have the power to elect someone based on claims, promises and heresay. People hold their elected officials to their word. I always find it funny when they made when politicians don't necessarily live up to what they say. It's like getting mad at J.D. Drew for taking too many third strikes, flying out or grounding into a double play in the late innings with men on base; you have no control how they act. Sure it's bullshit, but that's the nature of the beast. You see it in the media, you see in the entrepeneural sector, the scams, the double dealing, the ballwashing, it's ubiquitous.

Now let's all do the Macarena.