Thursday, September 30, 2004

Bright Ideas, Bold Moves #13

Since my father was the more lenient of my parents, I figured it would be safe to try smoking in my bedroom when my mother was out. I just had to tell my dad I was doing my homework and then close the door. Next, I turned off the lights, opened the window stuck, my head out and lit one up.

I was required only to stick my head out the window and exhale upwards, always holding the cigarette far above the window, because the smoke would simply rise from the scene of my crime. The light was out in case he barged in and asked what I was doing, standing in a dark room by myself. The darkness would give me a split second to toss the cigarette butt into the snow.

When the lights came on , he asked what I was doing perched on the window sill and leaning my head out the window, when I was supposed to be doing my homework.

- I was tired and needed rest my eyes from the light. He was disappointed that this was the best story I could concoct. The smell of cigarettes was suddenly intense, but there was no evidence of smoking. He had nothing, and was furious. He leaned out the window, straining his eyes over the snow to spot the glowing heater, but there was nothing to be found. I had butted out the heater the instant I heard the doorknob turn.

He gave me a lecture that I was an athlete, and not just some guy who smoke, yet I maintained my innocence to the end. I felt that since I had devised a scheme to smoke in my room without producing evidence, I should thus be afforded the presumption of innocence.

I have long been a fan of Donald Rumsfeld's use of hand gestures. Perhaps the photo editors choose to publish only the photos with outlandish hand gestures, or perhaps Rumsfeld actually gesticulates wildly all the time.

Regardless, his fighting technique is unstoppable, and has now been compiled and revealed.

Tuesday, September 28, 2004

As a child, I admired Jimmy Carter, even in his goofy cardigan or crew neck sweater. Having just moved to Vermont when he was President, he was my role model for what a President should be; austere, honest, and hard working.

Soon after I arrived in Vermont, Reagan was elected. Almost overnight, everything changed. The deficit exploded, war was planned for Central America, and interest rates shot up to 18%

Carter disappeared for many years, but has resurfaced as a election observer, most recently observing the elections in Venezuela and Indonesia. He writes a compelling case about why international observers are needed in Florida this November.

The differences between Carter and the neo-con cabal currently in place could not be greater if Carter himself were from a different planet. After office, Carter ran Habitat for Humanity, and devoted himself to resolving conflict and creating peace. He could have devoted himself merely to making money, but he chose to use his power for ends other than making himself wealthier.

This is the type of rich and powerful man I intend to be, as soon as my Super 7 ship comes in; some old codger in dusty overalls and a beat up pickup truck.

Thursday, September 23, 2004

After a 2 year break, I have once again visited Back in the day, he was more of an angry young man, but I found his smarty-pants attitude towards the rave scene to be refreshing and amusing. What I thoroughly enjoyed were the rave captions, although they made me embarassed to have ever been a willing participant in that scene. I suppose I loved the site because it exposed the silliness of a huge room of really high people thinking they were on the cusp of achieving something really, really great.

Now he is a better writer, but if you scratch beneath the surface you can still feel the venom.

Wednesday, September 22, 2004

Mise au Jour

How many Magnum PI episodes included a voice over by Thomas to the effect of I know what you're thinking, and you're right? Too many, I would say, making the show often predictable, which I worry my blog is becoming. I fear that I start too many sentences with the "I"; I fear worry that the blog is boring. I worry too much.

Monday night I was worrying about how tired I was on my way to the Beastie Boys concert. I was coming down with a cold, I was exhausted from work, and the week promised to be long, painful and emotionally draining. I was actually not looking forward to a night spent in a minor league hockey arena with 12,000 drunk kids.

All my worries melted away once MixMasterMike took the stage. He played a 3 minute set that set the tone for the audience: this would be a party, so get up for it!

The Beastie Boys strutted out to start off with Root Down, followed immediately by Sure Shot. The rest of the night was filled with a few new tracks but mostly with classics, notably Time to Get Ill, Sabrosa, Ricky's Theme, So What'cha Want, Pass the Mic, Paul Revere, and the crowd favorite Brass Monkey. For their first encore they appeared in the stands only 12 rows in front of us to belt out Intergalactic. The show finished with Sabotage, dedicated to George W. Bush.

I ended up getting much sicker because I stayed out late and was stressed out from work, but it was worth it to see Mixmaster Mike scratch in synch with a DVD of Stevie Wonder playing Superstitious.

Find me a German word of the feeling of knowing you have done something that will hurt you but feeling good about it anyway. I suppose rationalization will do.

Speaking of Germans, there is now a radio in Germany that broadcasts in Klingon. Yes, a language created for a television show. I guess there are likely people who speak Orc, or Ewok or even Wookie.

Monday, September 20, 2004

Tonight we are off to the Beastie Boys, at Pacific Coliseum. This will be my first trip to an "arena" concert since I went to Tool, way back in 2001. I'll have to remember to bring a lighter, so I can hold the flame high when the house lights go down.

I will feel particularly old at the concert, since I'll be attending with my pregnant wife.

Sunday, September 12, 2004

Today I finally finished The Miracle of Castel di Sangro. It was so enjoyable to read that I was actually upset when the book ended. I rank it as the best book about soccer (or football, or calcio or whatever you want to call the beautiful game).

Honorable mentions in that category would include The Football Factory, England Away, Fever Pitch, and Among the Thugs.

It would make a great movie, although I would fear for the author's life.

Friday, September 10, 2004

Since an NHL season looks unlikely, hockey addicts should jump on the Whale bandwagon early. While millionaire fourth-line journeymen squabble over money with other millionaires, you can enjoy the passion and enthusiasm found in a hard-working 13th division. The Whale are off to a good start this year, but feel they have been put in a division too low for their calibre.

It appears that little has changed at my alma mater, a haven for those who believe that in vino veritas, and that the more vino, the more veritas. Oh, how we found the truth....

There is one problem with the pictures, as Kerry pointed out; the windows were left intact. If you are going to burn down a house, you might as well break the windows first.