Football Follies

Let me go on the record saying that this weekend of Football just plain sucked. Yes, the Giants won, I know (Philly you still have baseball) but Penn State's loss was atrocious. The beauty of Penn State's loss however is that I don't have to freak about the BCS screwing the Nittany Lions anymore. The G-Men on the other hand are another story. If they keep flirting with losses we are going to have another Cleveland on our hands.

Look at me talking like I can affect this, as if the outcome is in the hands of the fans. Yeah, prepare for the proverbial lap bar ladies and germs (see Roller Coaster of Life Post). This second half of the football season will surely be a doozy.

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We Interrupt This Message...

...To announce that Barack Obama has been elected the 44th President of the United States. For those of you expecting me to spout off on some sort of metaphorical tirade, you can forget it. Barack Obama is simply a man who wishes to serve his country and make America a better place. He shares the core intentions that should be innate in every person to hold the office of President and I can only hope that as Americans we can rally behind him and by doing so rally behind ourselves. Soapbox disengaged.

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Roller Coaster... of Life

Yeah, It's been a while since I've posted, but then again, I've never really been the type to keep a diary. Life has been a roller coaster and I would like to take a moment out of my busy day to address the lap bar.

the lap bar is the most sinister instrument ever invented in the roller coaster of life. It keeps you locked into the ride through every single twist and turn, good or bad, but it still lacks the total security of a seat belt and shoulder harness.

Oh, the lap bar is not your friend my children. It takes sadistic pleasure in watching you scream down the journey of life even though it has traveled the same path numerous times before and always live to tell the tale.

So, why do we even get on the first place? Maybe it's the adrenaline rush of knowing that crazy things beyond imagination could happen. Or maybe we are peace seekers, looking for a gentle kiddie ride at a state fair. All I know is that in life you don't get to pick the ride. It could be Space Mountain, or it might be Millennium Force (pictured to the right).

Man, what I would give to be at the peak of Millennium Force right now...

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Get in the Game...

Shameless EA plug I know. Sometimes though it's the best answer. Do any of us really understand how often we choose to ride the pine? Seriously, how many times in your life can you say that you fully participated in everything that you wanted to do? More than likely, some amount of fear paralyzed you and before you knew it time had passed along with opportunity. Then all you are left with is a giant bowl of "What if?"

Well I am here to tell you that "What If?" tastes like Alpo. I'd knock SPAM, but I have a long established relationship with the Hormel company that dates back to Latin Club.

Regardless, in a world full of Filet Mignon and Ben & Jerry's, how dare any of us sit down at the end of the day and delude ourselves into believing that the three bowls of Alpo we had were delicious?

So, let's say goodbye to our craptacular menus, no matter how big or small they may be and start dining at the Ritz.

...Or at least upgrade to Taco Bell. (Chilitos, I will always miss you.)

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What's Your Fantasy?

Riches? Fame? World Peace? Who knows what it is that you dream about at night or keeps you going during the day, but I do know that if there isn't something driving you, your life will be a world of hurt.

Isn't that basically what the American dream is all about? Hope springing eternal? Hope for a better tomorrow?

I'll never say that I am infallible, but leaving things up to hope is a dangerous game to be playing. When you don't actively pursue hope, she transforms into this evil mistress called fate. And trust be Hope is more fun to hang out with. She'll at least let you choose the movie once in a while. Fate will chain you down and put "Beaches" on repeat.

For that matter, Hope and Fate are kind of like "Hope and Faith ." Kelly Ripa (Hope) has career options while Faith Ford (What the heck has she done?) is doomed to acting purgatory.

Long Story Short. Chase Hope. She's a fine catch. Even if you never catch her, the adventures you have while trying will be a heck of a lot better than spending an eternity with Fate, her older and much uglier sister.

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Stability... Like Jello.

Feel that Wobble, Feel that wiggle. There was a time in my life that all I wanted to do was avoid the feeling that my life was a Bill Cosby commercial.

Don't get me wrong, I would have loved to have been a Huxtable, but as far as the pudding and the creepy molds, I'll pass.

All I ever wanted was to know what life would be like day in and day out. Order was my God and Routine was my mistress.

Now i think all of that may be overrated. I wanted things to be routine because when they were I would always know what I was doing. As a result, I would be guaranteed to succeed on a daily basis. That can feel pretty good.

But thinking back, all of my best moments have come when I had to relinquish control. No one told me what words I would be receiving in my 5th grade spelling bee. Hell, no one told me that my pants would split on stage during an aerial split. However, these moments were defining for me and the stable moments in my life are significantly more forgettable.

So if I am aiming to live a life that could be chronicled in the annals of history, maybe I need to introduce a little more jello into my life. I hear the Lemon-Lime is delicious.

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A Quickie...

Why doesn't the pop-o-matic bubble apply to real life?

It most definitely isn't fun getting into trouble, but popping a 6 to get out of a rut would be a lot easier than completing a full slate of Operation surgeries (And avoiding setting off that red nose can be quite the charge.)

I mean think about it. If getting out of a difficult situation was never more than a one in 6 shot, I think there'd be a whole lot of popping going on.

So here's to Trouble. Proof that all of life's happiness can be contained in a tiny plastic dome .

Take that Magic 8 Ball!

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Oh Brother...

Big Brother 9 marks an interesting point in my life. It is the first time that I chose actively not to watch an entire season of the summer fun fest.

In reality I was just swamped with work and coping with a night shift, but hearing the about the season via friends with bleeding retinas, I think my timing could not have been more fortunate.

But now the producers have committed to going Christina Aguilera on season 10, going "Back to Basics."

If they are being fully honest, which is hard to believe, we may finally see a reality show stand on the two feet that the genre was created on. Placing ordinary people in extraordinary circumstances and letting things play out naturally. That's what made Survivor Borneo strike gold. That's why MTV faithful still cite the first season of the Real World as one of if not the very best.

This is not to say that the more salacious shows do not have their places in the television landscape. They do and many of them are amazingly entertaining. But I have always felt that the most enthralling drama occurs in every day life and if BB10 strays too far away from that, numero diez could be the end of this Julie Chen helmed summer struggle.

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On the Road Again

There was a time when I really wanted to travel. I remember in 7th Grade begging my parents to let me go on a trip to Western Europe. They waited 5 years for the opportunity to re-present itself before they granted my request.

That trip was interesting to say the least, and Switzerland is gorgeous, but now that I am taking the opportunity to do a little more domestic travel, I wonder why the hell we call ourselves states.

Shouldn't we really be the United Countries of America. Each state technically has its own government and states rights is a time-honored constitutional principle, but continuing to use the moniker of state rather than country creates the illusion that we are all one. United.

Take a look at the election night map, and you know instantly that is not true.

Now don't read this as a secessionist manifesto. Just read it as one man saying that we should more openly embrace the differences between Mississippi an Montana. Between Alabama and Arizona. God knows Sports fans know the difference between Massachusetts and New York. Heck socially, Bostonians speak a "different" language from New Yawkers.

Maybe if we had a better appreciation for the less than subtle nuances, we would value what we have at home just a little more. I know that I find myself yearning for stability from time to time, searching for the familiar rather than the newer, greener pastures. But in the prime of my youth, a prime that will last at least until I am 40, I'm willing to take the ride.

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A Post of Lesser Significance

Fair Warning: The following clip may be either annoying or downright addictive. Watch with caution.



That said, there is something valuable about the ability to be irreverent. Being serious all the time is truly trying and spouting gibberish for no apparent reason can be just the cathartic release that certain high-strung individuals need.

So before this post becomes excessively thought out remember to occasionally not give a turd about what others think and say. We are human after all and that gives us more than permission to err a little bit.

(I will now spell check and proofread this post... I'm sorry, the my OCD should become OPP. C'est la vie.)

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