Don't blame God; He's only human

The Next...

2009-01-03T11:58:00.000-08:00

I'm For: Spicy Basil, The Hornet, and Stars of CCTV by Hard Fi
I'm Against: Panda Express, Jet, and Beyonce's Upgrade Song

The Next…

The American sports media is infatuated with anointing the next big thing. It is like we have this subconscious Judeo-Christian complex to apply the second coming in all facets of life.

The next Wayne Gretzky…
The next Pele…
The next Tony Hawk…
The next Michael Jordan…
The next Mark Spitz…

These grandiose comparisons to icons of sport were not given to proven athletes with track records of success that could warrant association to the greatest athletes the world has ever seen. No, these betrothals were given to teenagers well before they were ever paid to play.
And then something phenomenal happened. These teenagers succeeded. They lived up to hype that was out of this world. And they have all done so with a maturity, strength, and poise that are well beyond their years.

I consider it a miracle that none of them are out of the sport, in jail, or addicted to a controlled substance.

I think we have all experienced the arch-typical jock narcissism complex at some level. You know, when a top-notch athlete does well gets a couple press clippings and they begin to believe their own hype. After weaker coaches, teammates and community personalities yield to them, these jocks devolve into narcissistic dicks that get away with murder. Only eventually, they hit a level of competition where they struggle and fail. At which point their entire foundation collapses upon itself and they are left to reanalyze the meaning of their life and the way they behave.

Can you even imagine being 16 and getting compared to the greatest icon your sport has ever seen? Having every move you make as a teenager monitored by scouts, agents, sponsors, and the national media? How do you deal with that and come out normal, when your peers in a similar situation turn into egomaniacal douchebags?

These guys don’t just hold the hopes and dreams of a school, a franchise, or even a country. The future of their respective sport’s success was placed on their shoulders before they made their professional debut. Even Jesus took 10 years to hideaway and cope after he received word that he was the Son of God. These guys took the news, and then spent the next 5 years maturing under the spotlight of international media. An international media that is far more intense than the media coverage of their predecessors.

I am not arguing that these athletes are in fact better than their predecessors. That is a fool’s folly. Too much has changed in the athleticism, technology, and strategy surrounding their sports to compare across generations. It may be comparing apples to apples but it’s like comparing an organic Fuji to a Granny Smith that has been pumped full of hormones and genetically altered to not produce seeds.

Its irrelevant that Sid the Kid may never pass Gretzky’s gaudy points record. Or that King James may not win as many championships as Air Jordan. Or that Freddy Adu hasn’t made Soccer a major sport in America like Pele once did. Nor is it worthwhile to compare Phelps’s accomplishments to Spitz, or Shaun White’s tricks to the great Tony Hawk’s. Doing so is just a vein attempt to create artificial drama that is all too prominent in modern sports media.

I believe it is far more impressive that these athletes continue to excel at a level far above their peers, under far more intense pressure and they are all doing it when most folks their age are complaining about the pressure of finals or paying rent while they get fucked up on the weekend.

If you don’t think its impressive perhaps you should ask Maurice Clarett, Ryan Leaf, Sebastian Telfair, Kwame Brown, Tyler Hamilton, or Marcus Vick how they handled the pressure.

New Jockey? Hold Your Horses!

2008-12-21T19:37:00.000-08:00

As a true collegiate Sports fan, I troll on my schools' message boards. Unfortunately for me, collegiate message boards are one of the numerous evil byproducts of the internet.

If you are not familiar with the culture of message boards stay away while you are ahead. They are God awful places that are a complete waste of time and energy. They are a congregation point where ego centric and provincial sports fans that have absolutely no bearing on the performance of the team discuss topics of little or no importance to the greater population of the world. Typically topics fall into one of the following categories:

1. Celebrating wins and praising the teams performance: During these topics posters commonly use the personal noun "WE" in reference to the team, as if they were the 6'3 white kid on the bench that never plays but gets to wear the team warmups and participate in all the bench rituals.

2. Inane strategy talks: During these topics posters frequently ponder what they would do if they were the head coach. All posters have infinite wisdom that no coach of twenty years could ever possess.

3. The prognostication/speculation: These are favorite topics among sports fans, because after all, sports are all about the hope and possibility of next year. During these topics posters speculate the performance of the team next year. These posts almost always feature the words potential, talent, excitement, and best ever. Usually prognosticators will refer to the talent of recruits they have never actually seen play aside from a 2 minute highlight video of said player torching wildly inferior high school players.

4. The Article Commentary: These topics start out with one poster placing the link of a news article on the message board. Depending on the thesis of the article and the message boards perception of a writer they will do one of two things. Praise the writer uncontrollably about his superior knowledge of the team and incredible writing style. Or deride the writer mercilessly about his incompetence and bias towards the home team. The funny thing is these fans know infinitely more about their team then the writers and as a result almost none of the articles actually reveal new information about the team.

5. The Rare Insight: Occasionally an educated or insightful individual will bring up a point of note. After their initial post, a slew of un-insightful posters will follow with their praises of the Insightful one, adding absolutely nothing to the conversation.

6. The Inside Source: Either a student or someone with a connection to the team will post an inside scoop of a player. Sometimes its a cute story about a player signing a kids basketball at the mall, but usually it is something negative like a drug possession, cheating on a test, or an injury. The response of the mass posters is always the same 3 step process. 1. Shock and denial. 2. Expressions of disappointment and a few disparaging remarks about the player. 3. Eventually posters move to acceptance and praise of the program's clean history relative to other evil programs.

7. The Post Loss Melancholy: Although losses are the worst part of being a sports fan, they are peak activity hours for message boards. Posters come from all over to express their pain, and complain about how the team didn't play up to their lofty expectations. Post loss topics usually consist of.
- Beleagured praise of the opponent, and brief compliment to visitors from opposing message boards.
- Scapegoating of players who had particularly bad game and calling out all their mistakes. Ironic considering most posters never even played on their JV team.
- Complaining about the refs and their many terrible calls
- Calling out the opponents and their classless behavior
- Praising the players who had a good game in spite of the loss
- Calling out other posters who are fair-weather for being so negative after a loss
- Rationalizing the loss relative to season performance, or because you are dealing with kids who are 18-24.
- And my favorite calling for the coaches job. Because the players are "amateur" aka they aren't "paid" and therefore cannot be fired. The only people you can really assess blame against are the coaches. And boy do people place blame on the coaches, with their all knowing 20/20 hind sight and their myopic views. Posters call for heads to roll at a rate that dizzies the Mr. Goullitine.

Recently I came across a poster who was calling for Gonzaga coach Mark Few's head. His exact quote was "We have the Horses, We just need a new Jockey!" Below is my response to that post. Larry if you happen to be TacomaZag, well I am not surprised.

TacomaZag: I hear you. These two recent losses are very disappointing. Combined with refreshed memories of a few early tournament exits, and it is enough to raise any Zag fan's blood pressure.

But honestly, you're calling for Few's head because of a couple close losses to "elite" programs? Close losses to good teams in the pre-season is not grounds for firing even among "elite" programs.

In fact, what separates almost all of the elite programs of college basketball is consistency of great coaching. The success of Duke, Florida, UConn, Kansas, UCLA, Arizona, Syracuse, and MSU, can all be attributed to great tenured coaches. Those programs experienced a lot of the same growing pains you referred to, but their patience allowed them to get over the hump.

It's frightening territory calling for coaches heads. Just ask Kentucky, Indiana, and Notre Dame (in football). If historically elite programs with unlimited resources are struggling to maintain, how the hell do you think we are gonna fare? As great of a story Gonzaga is, I don't think you can call us a top tier coaching position. Relative to other top programs we don't pay great, we have a terrible location, we play in a bad conference, and we have mediocre facilities.

We are incredibly fortunate to have stumbled upon a coach who has embraced those challenges and turned them into competitive advantages. You can argue that Few is responsible for poor game management against top level competition. But who are you going to bring to Gonzaga that is going to do better while maintaining top tier recruiting, scheduling, and in conference performance? Not to mention the fact, that Few runs an ethical program that generally has lived up to the mission of the university.

I know that we all want to get to the status where we consistently beat top level competition. But those same factors that prevent us from being elite on the court, are the same factors that prevent us from landing and keeping an no elite coach better than Few. Calling for Few's head is a dangerousgame and could lead us down the road of other small schools that have fallen by the wayside (see San Francisco, Seattle, and LMU).

Go Zags. Take these experiences learn from them and grow as a team.

P.S. Coach K addressed the less than 10 seconds on the clock with a tie game or down by one scenario in his book. Assuming his point guard or star player has the ball and is dribbling down the court he generally doesn't call the timeout. Then again Pargo ain't Bobby Hurley, especially with a bum leg.

Transformation Through Conformity

2008-12-07T19:09:00.000-08:00

I'm for: British Indie Rock, Salt of the Earth Americans, and Sierra Nevada Pale Ale.

I'm against: Lil' Wayne's 8 grammy nominations, rich Houstonians, and Fireman 4 Ale.

__________
I am standing in a production van in a mall parking lot in Kansas City, Missouri. A beautiful woman stands before me presenting herself for my approval.

“That looks nice. Now let’s try the jean skirt with the pink top.” I speak thoughtfully as if I am painting a picture in my mind. I excuse myself from the RV and make my way to the wardrobe rack again.

How the hell did I get here?

Just 12 years ago I was standing in the halls of Cresthill Middle School during a passing period and Cari mumbled, “At least you match” in my general direction.

Cari had been an object of fascination for me for about two weeks then, but she had never actually talked to me before. My fascination with Cari wasn’t really sexual at that point. Honestly, I was just mystified by the girl. She had this incredible presence that took over every classroom she entered. But unlike most of the other popular girls she wasn’t unbelievably hot. At the time she was cute and peppy, but she wasn’t the starlet of the Cresthill middle school boys dreams, Megan and Tamara cast those roles. Nonetheless, Cari’s confidence elevated her beyond the rest, and teachers and students respected her without the resentment typical of middle school.

So when Cari uttered that backhanded compliment I jumped on the opportunity to probe her sage advice.

“What do you mean at least I match?” I asked inquisitively.

“Well you wear the soccer swish swoop pants and t-shirts all the time, but you have the sense to coordinate the colors unlike some of the other dorks, you know like Doug.” (Doug used to wear soccer jerseys all the time including this England shirt that was impossible to match with anything, Doug and I weren’t really friends but I knew about his horrible style and being placed in the same group was horrifying for my fragile middle school ego).

Cari and I continued our conversation about my lack of fashion sense for the remainder of the passing period. The discussions continued periodically as my wardrobe transformed from 100% soccer friendly gear to an awkward smorgasbord of discount rack designer shirts that were out of season, ill fitting, and gaudy as hell. She taught me about brands and what it meant when you wore them. During the process, I fell hard for Cari and soon after I confessed my feelings (over Instant Messenger of course) I discovered the meaning of “Friend Zone.” At the time I didn’t fully comprehend it, and instead of moving on quickly like other 13 year olds, I dropped into a period of melancholy and self-loathing that had my parents worried. I leveraged their fear for my well being, to get new clothes to impress Cari and other girls.

Totally disgusting, right? On top of all the other awkward shit you go through in middle school and high school we have materialism as a fodder for peer pressure and bullying.

That moment when Cari mumbled those words was the inflection point for my life. Up to that point I was pretty much oblivious about what other people thought of me. I wore sweatpants and short ass soccer shorts every day through elementary school. I was a soccer player and that’s what I wanted people to know about me, I didn’t think that clothing and material possessions could affect people’s perceptions and attitudes.

Now it is my profession to define those perceptions and attitudes. And As much as I am disgusted by it, I am totally fascinated by the reasons we choose to conform.

If Cari hadn’t happened to me something else probably would have. At that time I was dead set on a course to be a scientist or an engineer. She transformed me, because she taught me how to conform.

Cari and I haven’t talked in about 3 years. Ironically, last time I spoke to her she was a full bore Berkeley based hippie that had rejected all materialism and neo-Christian morality. Oh the mysterious ways of the world.

I return to the R.V. and the beautiful model.
“That skirt looks great on you, I think we will go with that and the first white top. The photographer will be ready to shoot in about 5 minutes.”

From unable to dress myself, to deciding the wardrobe of models at photo shoots. Yeah, it is a crazy world.

Da Royal Crib

2007-10-22T21:08:00.000-07:00

I'm For: The Simpsons, english ticketbrokers, and Indian food in England.

I'm Against: The Geico Caveman Show, american ticketbrokers, English Food in England

On Wednesday we head just West of London to visit the inland towns of Windsor and Eton. These two towns would be just like any other small country towns except they contain two of the greatest historical establishments in London. Windsor Castle and Eton College.

Eton college is basically Harvard X 30. It is a breeding ground for the educational elite of England since the mid-15th century. Initially established as a small public school for the middle class, Eton has transformed into the breeding ground of nearly every influential political figure in british History. The only prime minister of note that didn't attend Eton was Oliver Cromwell and anybody who knows anything about Irish history knows how bad he sucked.

Eton college is relatively unimpressive from the outer walls of its ancient buildings. But by walking around the small cobblestone campus I start to take in the magnificence almost by osmosis. It is on the edge of a pristine small town on the edge of the River Thames. It has the basic essentials of a small college town, a few pubs, some shops, cafes, and a couple of hotels for visitors. More impressive are the expansive green playing fields, the spectacular river walk complete with regal swans, and the historic cobblestone roads and brick courtyards and buildings. If I didn't know any better I would tell you for certain that I was on the set of the Dead Poet's Society. Enough of the shit let's move onto the main attraction.

Windsor Castle, like its small college neighbor is not an overly impressive sight from the outside. Just a bunch of white stone buildings and oversized walls. Within the walls the castle is its own mini-village, a much larger relatively newer version of the tower of London. The first building we entered was St. George's chapel. Chapel is probably not a very good word for it because the thing is pretty fricking large and impressive. Everything was carved out of marble and featured the very prominent Gothic architecture. The coolest part of the whole chapel was the choir area. Above the seating of the choir area were all of the Coast of Arms of the Knights of the UK. Next to each Knights shield of arms is a sword half drawn, symbolizing that the knight is ready to fight at all times for the Monarch. When the Knight dies the sword is sheathed until they knight a replacement. It's like an extremely elite and noble frat with much cooler symbols.

St. George's chapel also hosts a number of dead people, although not nearly as many as some of the other church crypts in England.

We entered the castle at warp speed because it is going to close in like 45 minutes. The first thing you see is the Royal Dollhouse. The Royal dollhouse looks great but I am sure it is not very functional as a toy. It was built for one of the princesses who was a big fan of dolls. That dollhouse and all its accessories costs far more than my parents house, or any house that I will probably move into during my time on this Earth. Everything is built perfectly to scale of one of the Royal apartments (by apartments I mean multi level complex) and it features working electricity and plumbing.

The next few rooms are old bedrooms that feature insane Rembrandt's and other famous Renaissance paintings. Everything is velvet and looks pretty uncomfortable to sit in.

The first room that catches my attention is a lobby area that leads you to the Royal Ballroom. The lobby features all sorts of awesome trappings of imperialism. Including some wicked pieces from Asia. There is Samurai armor, emerald and onyx statues of tigers, some wicked mideval looking weapons, and a lot more impressive artwork and statues. The ballroom actually has a real royal orchestra practicing as we walk through the room. Needless to say they sounded better than average.

There were two other cool rooms to note. There was the royal armory which featured a whole bunch of weapons from different eras of war next to busts of prominent war heroes from that time period. Similar to the guitar tower they have in the EMP in Seattle or the baggage stacks they have at the Sacramento airport, Windsor Castle's arms room has antique gun stacks and sword stacks (I would say the most impressive of the three stacks).

The other cool room is the Knights Banquet hall. Which featured coat of arms for all of the Knights in the past. For any knights that committed treason or betrayed the crown their shield was covered in white effectively erasing them from history. In case you haven't noticed Knights are totally kick ass.

Windsor castle is notable for three things. One, Its packed with all kinds of insanely rich and cool stuff. Two, it has some pretty incredible views of the English countryside and the Thames. Three they were too cheap to take out a fire insurance policy, and wouldn't you know it the place caught fire! There was a ton of wood and paint damage but they managed to restore the place pretty well. However to pay for all these restorations, they were forced to open the Castle and several other English palaces for paid tours. Which is why I got to enjoy the place today.

For dinner I had some of the best Indian food I have ever eaten. I came to learn that 95% of Indian restaurant are owned by Bangledeshi. I also learned that Bangladesh is the 7th most populated country in the World!

Culture Club

2007-10-07T20:04:00.000-07:00

I'm For: Sleeping in, the female host of the Liverpool football channel, and Carlsberg beer commercials.

I'm Against: The lack of back support in my bed, art gallery guides, boxed white wine.

For Tuesday my agenda is dedicated to arts and culture. We start off the day looking for cheap tickets to the theater in Leicester Square. For some reason this square is notorious for selling half price theater tickets the day of the show. My mom and I debate what show to go to all morning. I suggest Billy Elliot, a musical based on the academy award winning movie of the same name where a boy from a northern mining town figures out that he is passionate about dancing (in spite of being hetrosexual). My Mom seems to be pushing every option except that including Footloose, Mama Mia, and the Sound of Music. Eventually we settle on some great seats for Les Mis' I figure it is classic and so it is probably worth seeing eventually and what could be a better place than London.

With our tickets purchased we head to Trafalgar Square and the National Gallery. Trafalgar Square is one of those classic London locations that is featured in every London montage in television and movies. Standing on top of a 250 foot pillar is a gigantic statue of Lord Nelson, victorious Admiral in against the French and Spanish forces in the battle of Trafalgar. See the connection.

There are lots of tourists and students hanging out in the square. Some Japanese guys ask me to take their picture, they each have spectacular cameras. They live up to all the sterotypes and bust out some peace signs. I wonder if this is meant to be ironic, or if Japanese even do comedic irony. They take a picture of myself and my mother, I resist the temptation to bust out a peace sign, and instead bust out a smile for my far eastern friends.

We are waiting on our 2:30 main gallery tour so we head into the "smaller" portriat gallery first. The portrait gallery features paintings of famous british figures. For the most part this is the historical royal family. However in the 20th century it gets more intersting with pop culture and political figures. My favorite portraits in here are the illustrated pictures of Blur, and the photo of Belle and Sebastian. Mostly you just see some impressive oil paintings of dead British monarchs.

Our tour is about to start so we have to make our trip to the portrait gallery brief. We walk into the gallery and make our way to the tour starting point. The first reaction upon walking through the halls is just the vast amount of incredible artwork that surrounds you. The National Gallery is a collection of the some of the greatest neo-classical paintings (13th - 19th centuries). It ranks right up there with the Louve as one of the greatest galleries in the world. We decide to take a tour to make the mass collection of paintings a little more manageable. Unfortunately the tour guide is a pompous art historian, who felt the need to tell us every painstaking detail about each painting. He also had annoying way of pronounce renaissance, (Ren Ahe Saunce). After his 7th anecdote on the second painting I decide to book it out of the tour buck up 6 bucks for an audio tour and take on the gallery myself. I took it on with a reckless abandon like a fat kid at CostCo sample day. There was no particular structure to my approach but I saw my fair share of impressive artwork. My favorite pieces were probably Botachelli, anything portraying the book of revelation, and most of the Dutch Renaissance.

After the National Gallery my mother and I head back to Leicenter Square for some quick dining. I spot out Wagamamas which came as a recommendation from the guide book and a friend. The atmosphere was weird with high school cafateria esque bench seating. Our neighbors were forced to sit next to complete strangers which was pretty entertaining to watch them deal with the uncomfortable forced interaction in a dining environment. Overall the food was good and moderately priced for London. We finish our meal and head off to Queen's theater for the show.

The theater is pretty small, only slightly larger than the Mayan an Indie Movie theater in Denver. The show starts off with a bang, at this stage I realize that the entire performance is going to be in song. Normally this would be a painful experience, but the fact that we're in London and there is some serious musical talent here alleviates my concerns. In my 4 years in high school band and 4 years in GUTS I heard a lot of people talk about how Les Mis was a life changing musical. I wouldn't go that far, but as far as impressive and entertaining theatrical productions I will give it two thumbs up. I did not regret this decision.

My mom and I make our way back to the tube where we encounter our first batch of drunkards in London. I imagine this mass transit experience would be significantly more fun while drinking. My mother and I get home feeling satisifed by our cultural intake for the day.

Tower of Power

2007-09-28T15:37:00.000-07:00

I'm for: Yeoman wardens, greek architechture, and the Liverpool Football Channel

I'm against: Art history majors, "suggested donations", and technology companies overvaluing facebook

I manage to sleep in for the first time this week. I have settled into Halifax time as my standard hours of operation. I have no problem with this but my mom sees it fit to give me a lecture about being lazy and sleeping away vacation.

For today we have booked a couple of tickets to the Tower of London, Great Britain's original Castle established by William the Conqueror in 1066. Over the years the tower has been used as a palace, a fortress, a prison, and now it is the great protector of the crown jewels. The tower is not just a physically impressive structure, but it is rich in history and ghastly tales of impriosonments and executions.

Just like everything else in London, the Tower is strategically located on the river Thames and within walking distance of a tube station. The tower even has a sweet river entrances called the Traitors Gate where traitors of London were brought in to never see the outside world again. In spite of my numerous proclimations in favor of Irish acts of terrorism proclaimed during Halo I have not earned my right to enter through the traitors gate. Instead my mother and I take a more conventional approach entering through the land bridge. The castle is equipped with all the standard castle fixings to make it a right midevil town within the outer walls and moat.

We begin our tour with a Yeoman Warden also known as Beefeaters. Check out the gin that shares their name for a picture. Yeoman Wardens are protected guards of the Queen. In modern times you have to have 20 years of honorable military service. You also need a wicked cockney accent and a gregarious presence when telling cryptic stories of murders and executions. These guys were awesome, and definitely merited the standing ovation that our the tour group of 70 people gave them at the end of the tour.

There were tales of executions including Queens of Henry the VIII and other members of the royal family who met their demise at the hands of corrupted power struggle. There are also a number of stories of Catholics that were imprisoned for their defiance of the King's religion, most notably Sir Thomas Moore. There are also a number of American colonists like Sir Walter Raleigh and William Penn. These stories were all cool but are difficult to translate.

The Castle came equipped with its own palace which was built for William the Conqueror after his Norman invasion. Right now the palace shows off all of the ancient miliatary outfits of the ancient kings and their soldiers. It also features one of the oldest churces in England with its Norman chapel. The suits of armor with their noble codpieces were all very impressive.

The Castle also features an impressive ancient chapel and final resting place for a number of the temple prisoners. A strange thing about England is that instead of cemetaries most of the Ancient English people particularly those of Merit are buried within the Church walls in tombs or Crypts. There were 500 people buried within the walls of the small Chapel of St. Peter en Vinicula, and given their demise there was a very erie feeling walking by the ancient crypts and tombs.

The highlight of the tour, or rather Crown Jewel was the tour of the Royal "Bling." Let's just say no matter how much ice Kanye rocks he will never be able to match up to a single piece that was on display here. Within a 28 second escalator tour I saw enough diamonds to pay off the American deficit, reparations and Michael Vick's legal fees in one easy payment. The crown jewels houses 3 of the worlds largest diamonds and royal shit ton of other precious jewels. Not to mention the incredible alter pieces, tea sets, and dining ware that was crafted out of Gold. There is literally a punch bowl with a gigantic ladel that is created out about 4 cubic feet of pure gold. I could not even hazard a guess of the approximate monetary value of these things, and the shocking thing is that most of the stuff on display was from the 17th and early 20th Century. I have no idea how many other things just like this are laying around in historic palaces within England.

Several things struck me while I was walking through this hall of fortressed treasures.

- There is surprisingly little security for millions of diamonds and thousands of pounds of gold. Just a bunch of old semi-retired Yeman Wardens and like 6 visable armed gaurds within these gates. Then again we are in the oldest fortefied Castle in London and we are surrounded by wals and water. I imagine it would be pretty difficult to just hijack a crown. It would make for a hell of a movie though. Oceans 14 anyone?
- No wonder there was a revolution and the Americans were not interested in paying taxes. I am certainly not going to give any extra donations in addion to my $30 entry fee.
- If everything bottomed out in American and our economy became essentially worthless would we have any raw treasures that could just pull us out of debt? To my knowledge we have nothing in America that can measure up to the value of this stuff.
- From what I understand of Great Britain there are at least 10 palaces with shit just like this inside. Not to mention the artwork and Historical treasures that are in British Musesums. If London wanted to they could have the most expensive Garage sale in the history of the world. On the other hand if someone were to decide to set off a Nuclear device in London at least a 1/3 of the classical treasures in the world would instantaneously dissappear.

The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. We took a close look at the tower bridge, an impressive bridge next to the Tower that is often taken for the "London Bridge." So much so that an American thought he was purchasing this bridge when he bought the historical London Bridge for $2.4 Million in the mid 20th Century. That bridge is on display in the middle of Arizona, sans piked heads.

On our way back to the tube we encountered the Merchant Marine and Naval memorial from World War I. Nearby there was a huge classical building featuring great corinthian columns and classical greek architchture and a towering copper statue of Posiedon the God of the Sea. I try to look this up on my tour book and map and these monuments are no where to be found. It is incredible how such amazing historical and architechtural monuments are not even notable. That gives you an impression of the sheer size and history that exists in this city.

Imperialism Rocks

2007-09-26T15:06:00.000-07:00

I'm For: Gothic architechture, the tube, English Jam, and English women's fashion sense.

I'm against: Uneven cobblestone streets, blustering winds, English Cereal and English dudes fashion sense.

My phone rings, its Justin. It's according to my phone it is 10:00 p.m. EST so its 8:00 pm in Colorado. That means its 3:00 am in England. This quick timezone turnaround leaves me throughly confused and I decide the best course of action is to fall asleep. After another 45 minutes of restless sleep, I give into the jet lag and pick up my London guide to plan out my day.

My plan is to head into to the Westminster river district and take in some history. The guide says Westminster Abbey, the Houses of Parliment, Whitehall and Trafalgar square are all within walking distance of each other. It's Sunday so I hope to hit up some churches while they are free, but other than that I have no agenda.

With no chance of sleep I head downstairs for some breakfast. I take out some of the delicious bread from yesterday and some marmelade and blackcurrant jam. At first bite I rediscover a flavor that I haven't tasted for three years, tart. With all the artificial sugars and preservatives American has killed the delicate perfection of tart. Screw sweettarts they don't even come close.

My mom decides to accompany for my first trip downtown. We mind the gap and get on the underground. In London, virtually everyone takes the underground trains (also known as the tube) everywhere. Many people don't have cars because gas is expensive, traffic is terrible and they charge you to drive inside the city limits. There are a lot of benefits to this system. The envionment benefits from a ton of patrons getting off the road, traffic and noise pollution goes down with it. Additionally people are generally healthier because they walk a hell of a lot to and from tube stations and bus stops. All of this is great for me because there are a lot of fit women in a central location for me to look at all times.

London women, in addition to having incredibly sexy accents have a sophisticated and sassy sense of style. It is like every woman in this city is that super fashionable indie chick that I used to have a crush on. Ladies it looks like flat slippers and tapered jeans and skirts with tights underneath are coming back in a big way. The one thing I don't like are the women who wear boots, they all look like total Tarts (English word for a haggard whore in addition to delicious jam flavor).

We reach our stop and again mind the gap as we leave the train. We climb the stairs and the first thing that I see as I walk out of the station is Big Ben. I literally say "holy shit! Wow!" and stand there with my jaw dropped for about a minute. I am sure I was a prime target for pick pockets at that time but I literally felt like I was in plato's allegory and I had just emerged from a cave for the first time. This moment was like an instantaneous enlightenment, I have never experienced anything quite like that.

My whole life I thought, "Big Ben, so what it's a big clock tower?" Then I saw it up close, the thing is massive, constructed in this incredible victorian gothic style. The stonework is absolutely incredible, there is so much detail in every crevas of this massive massive building. On top of that everything is guilded in gold. The English may have been some oppressive pricks to the world but you got to admit they made a lot of fricking cool buildings. I literally spend about 30 minutes wandering around Big Ben and Westminster Palace (aka the Houses of Parliment) I take about 20 pictures buti doubt any of them will come close to showing how impressive this building looks.

Right next to Westminster Palace is Westminster Abbey. This is the site of every major coronation of the Kings and Queens of England. The Cathedral also looks impressive with fantastic stained glass windows, and sculptures of important saints everywhere. We can't go inside because there is a Sunday service going on so my Mom suggests we go to the nearby Catholic Cathedral. That Cathedral has a gigantic spire dome sticking into the sky that is visable for miles. We walk into the cathedral and I have a similar reaction to seeing Big Ben. Holy crap this thing is large ornate and simply incredible. The Alter is huge and has all the finest marble stone and gold finishings. I look up to the ceiling and notice that it is just gigantic, I also notice that it is pitch black which is odd for a cathedral. Apparently this Cathedral that was originally built in 1890 is only half finished. The incredible thing about this cathedral is that there are about 12 chaples running up and down the sides of the Cathedral. Each chaple has an incredibly impressive alter with amazing paintings, mosaics, and statues honoring the saints. Each individual chapel is probably worth the equivalent of one church in the United States in term of financial investment.

We walk around Westminster and Whitehall a little bit more but I am pretty beat up after the whole 4 am wake up. We decide to turn in and I finish my first day in London amazed by the incredible impact of money and the church.

Team America... FUCK YEAH!

2007-09-25T16:58:00.000-07:00

I'm for: Fulham F.C., tomato soup, and Carling Extra Cold.

I'm against: Man City, whole milk, and jet lag mixed with sudafed and advil.

I hear my Dad calling my name from a distance. I try to respond but my reply is just a mumble. GET UP! We got to get going! I look over at my cell phone and the time reads 10:20 a.m. It takes me about a minute to process that my cell phone is stuck on Eastern Standard Time. Apparently my cellular service doesn't cross the prime meridian.

It feels like I just got hit by a bus as I drag myself out of my bed and downstairs. My mom has soup and egg salad sandwiches waiting. This is literally the best soup I have had in my 23 years of existence. I swallow a couple of gulps of Tea before my Dad yanks me out of my seat and out the door.

We're in a rush for my first English Premier Leauge Match (EPL). The EPL is the top Football (soccer) league in England. This has been a moment that I have waited for most of my known life. Soccer has always been my favorite Sport, and the EPL is like the mecca of soccer as far as quality of play and fan support goes.

Today we are watching Fulham F.C. play Manchester City, in Fulham's stadium Craven Cottage. Fulham is a team based out in Southwest London (effectively the burbs). Not only are they the closest team to my parent's place but they also have the largest collection of American players outside the United States with four (Forward Brian McBride, Attacking Mid Clint Dempsey, Defender Carlos Bocanegra, and newly acquired Keeper Kasey Keller). They even went so far to name Brian McBride the captain of this years team the first ever American to hold that honor in the EPL. Then when Brian McBride got injured they had the audacity to name Carlos Bocanegra the captain, which makes him the second ever American to hold that honor. This is quite risky because Carlos Bocanegra is a pretty bad defender, he just happens to be very large and pretty quick.

I have no idea what compelled the owners to take on this strategy but it doesn't seem entirely unreasonable because they have won at least one American fan with this agressive pro-yankee approach. I am not sure what Fulham supporters think about their team being taken over by Americans but it is one of my goals to figure out just that.

My Dad isn't walking to the train station he is attacking pavement. He is practically running downhill slaloming between bystanders and other pedestrians. My knee is fucking killing me, no amount of pain killers can dull the pain of speedwalking downhill after 10 hours on an airplane. My Dad finally catches onto my limp and slows down slightly, this could be a rough week in London because you pretty much have to walk everywhere.

We board the train that has people wearing Fulham jersey's. So far Fulham supporters appear to be Dad's with sons and skinny white males. So far we fit both criteria. We follow a long train of people along the Thames to Craven Cottage. Craven Cottage is the smallest stadium in London it sits 25,000 people in four completely covered sections. Pretty much every seat has perfect sight lines, and the covered rafters provide a good ampitheater for chants. On one corner of the stadium there is an actual Cottage which were the headquarters for the actual football club when it was established in the 1930's. As a result Fulham is also known as the Cottagers, which is a pretty terrible nickname, but the English aren't too creative with these things so we will give them a break. They also have appear to have a giant badger as their mascot and are sometimes referred to as "The Whites" because they sport some pretty classy white jerseys. All of these names are incorporated into chants which are really just genric folk songs and pop songs where you insert an alias for your club into the lyrics. Examples include "Glory glory Man United!" and "Hammer Time" I wanted to join into the fun by singing take me out to the ball game or Team America... FUCK YEAH!!! It will take a few beers and one or two other Americans to get that started.

The stadium is small but awesome, it backs up to the river and has a sweet boardwalk where you can drink beer and look over the river. Adding to the Ambiance are about 5,000 drunk and cheering Manchester City supporters.

- A brief history lesson about European Football for those of you who aren't familiar. Most European clubs started between the 1850's and 1900's as teams with church and community affiliations. These teams played in leagues weekly in what are now known as Sunday Pub leagues. As football became more popular and these leagues became more organized, some teams became competitive and professionalized their teams by soliciting sponsors and paying players. Eventually things got organized enough that leagues became nationalized and then divisions began to form. These divisons were not defined by geography but instead by quality similar to Baseball or the NCAA there are 4 different divisions of English Football. The Premier League (Top), Championship (second), League One (third), and League Two (Fourth). Each year teams have a chance to move up or down in these divisions by placing in the top or bottom three. This is great becuase it gives lower teams a reward for consistently performing well, and penalizes teams who are not competing at the top level. I suggest MLB adopt this policy to enhance the regular season but that is a different story altogether.

Because of these storied traditions and close proximity of teams (in many cases there are multiple teams in a city), European football supporters align heavily with teams based on teams origins (including religion), proximity, and class. Good examples include Glasgow; Rangers (Protestent) and Celtic (Catholic), Barcelona; Barca F.C. Affluent, Espanyol Blue Collar, and Manchester; United (Affluent) City (Blue Collar). Top rivalries between clubs are called Darby's and they are heated competitions that put UNC vs. Duke to shame.

As I breifly touched on Manchester City fans are predominantly blue collar people from the largest industrial city in England. Manchester City is like UNC in the Duke vs. UNC rivalry, they are mostly local fans and they hate United for their affluence and worldwide popularity. Unlike UNC Manchester City has had little competitive success. In that regard I would compare Man City's fan base to Cleavland, rowdy and incredibly supportive but they have very little to show for it. Like Cleavland franchises they also have really unique Jersey's which are purple with pin stripes and the Le Coq Sportif Logo. This season could be different as they are sitting in second place early in the season. THis should please celebrity fans Noel and Liam Gallahgar from Oasis.

Fulham F.C. supporters don't appear to have any idenity. Fulham is essentially a commuter town in the London burbs, as a result they are a lot like Denver fans. They are witty and they like to enjoy the outdoors and drinking beer, but they aren't particularly passionate or organized. Currently Fulham sits in 16th place, two places away from relegation into the Championship division. The unique thing about the Fulham fan base is that they have acquired 4 American players and a Korean player recently. As a result we are sitting in a section of Roughly 30% Koreans, 5% Americans and 65% British. The Koreans are in full on Beckham mode cheering and taking videos and pictures of their man Seol warming up. Between that and me and 3 other Americans yelling let's go Dempsey, USA, and TEAM America Fuck Yeah! The brits are throughly confused.

15 minutes from gametime most of the Man City supporters are in their seats and begin to start cheers. Most of their cheers are really harmonic and peak with people raising their hands like they are starting the YMCA and yelling "CITY" or "THE CITY!" Fulham fans get snarky and start saying "Shitty!" in place of "City in all their cheers" The Koreans look confused and snap pictures, I laugh and raise my Team USA Scarf in the face of City fans.

City keeps on busting out songs and I haven't heard one Fulham song yet, maybe they are saving it for the real game but doesn't anybody in these stands have some pride? So far my favorite chant is "I'm City til' I die, I'm City til I die' Hi ho the dairy OH, I'm City til I die!" I wonder if that would ever work at a Zags game or a Nuggets game? It's simple but it is way better than the Let's Go Mascot clap clap clap clap clap.

Game starts without too much fanfare, I hold up my Scarf and jump around like an idiot when the Americans are introduced, the English are whispering to each other, the Korean's continue to take pictures.

First noticable difference here, fans are genuinely interested in the game. Nobody is so preoccupied with jumping up and down, blasting hip hop music, or buying beer or snacks to not watch or appreciate the game. Every little hustle play is applauded, and good runs of play are recognized by the fans. Oh yeah and you can't have beer in the stands, so people are actually able to applaud or raise their hands for the previously mentioned cheers. City is still owning this stadium, so far I give them 10 points for atmosphere enhancement.

10 minutes in Fulham scores a goal, the crowd comes alive in applause. Fulham has had the advantage thus far. You would think that this would shut up City fans, but after a brief minute of dispair they break out in their best song yet. Something about standing there alone, let's go blue moon!

25 minutes in Man City gets the equalizer, Man City crowd is going nuts they sing their blue moon song again this time antagonistically at the Fulham supporters. Half ends at 1 to 1 and the game has been really entertaining thus far. Hopefully Fulham don't crap this one away.

During half time I get a Carling (official beer of the EPL and Coors International Partner) and find a couple guys in American shirts. I learn that they are from Detroit and work for Ford International in India. We talk soccer briefly and I return to my seat.

Second half starts out with a pretty big bang. Fulham gets a quick goal in the second half off of a free kick. This shot was wicked rip from about 22 yards out, it had what I affectionately call Stank Swerve. Unfortunately nobody from team america has made a big contribution but I ham hopeful.

Man City Scores in less than a minute. Bocanegra got turned and burned, so much for Captain America. The city player does a psuedo lambeau leap into the City Supporters group, they erupt and sing their stupid song. Fulham people are getting pissed they start yelling at the Koreans to stop taking pictures, security has been notified.

Man City are beginning to take over the game, in response Fulhams manager has moved Dempsey to Outside mid and put in another forward.

Man City get another crap goal. Defense is terrible but this game is entertaining. Fulham fans realizing that they just gave up the league at home begin to pick up their act.

Korean dude comes on and our section goes crazy. Peace signs and girls are flying just like with Ichiro at a Mariners game. Surprisingly, the Korean dude is good and fearless, he sparks some offense into the Fulham Midfield. Dempsey picks up his act and Bocanegra manages not to kick himself in the nuts. Eventually a long ball breaks through, Seol heads it to a streaking forward who puts it away for 3-3 score. 6 goals in an EPL match, I must be dreaming.

The next 8 minutes are a scrappy frenzy. The ref is losing control and the fan bases are heckling each other to pieces. The Korean dude gets a late steal and even the british join in on the cheers. The game ends up a draw, not a bad result against the 2nd best team on the table. We leave the stadium and walk back to the tube at dusk. Behind us a bunch of college aged boys are belting out cheers. It is odd to hear a bunch of grown men sing nursery rhymes and classic songs with no fear. People along the way join along and it is a pretty sweet moment.

We catch the tube home and complete strangers discuss the quality of the game. This is why I love sport and I love it on such a local level. It bridges gaps like few other things can. I get back home and manage to pass out again in no time. Against the odds, my first EPL match went beyond expectations.

Day 1 a success.

American Invasion

2007-09-22T23:14:00.001-07:00

I'm back bitches! I know, it's been too long and for that I am sorry, but I am going to London and this is totally a blogworthy experience. My life prior to this was far too busy with work, knee surgery/rehab, and general apathy to tell 15 semi-active readers how my life was going.

I'm for: Chuck Klosterman, Naughty by Nature, cab drivers, and Fulham F.C.

I'm against: ESPN the Mag, Kanye West, walking downhill, and Man City.

6:30 MDT - I awake to the sound of two alarms. Uncharacteristically I drag myself out of bed into the shower on my first attempt.

6:39 - I return to bed after a briefly drying myself off with a towell. I developed this habit my senior year of college, when our house was so poorly insulated during the winter that I was forced to crawl back into bed to provide a false sense of warmth. Not only is this practice a complete waste of time, it ruins my hair and forces me to wash my sheets to avoid mold growth.

6:55 - I wake up again and pull my shit together for the journey.
Passport, check
Wallet, check
Cell phone, check (it looks like Dave called at 12:44, I'll save the message for later)
Suitcase with clothes, tolietries, and U.S. National team scarf, check
Carry on with ipod, change of clothes, books, notebook, pens, books, and past 3 Sports Illustrateds, check

7:15 - I settle down to a breakfast of OJ, a banana and a granola bar. This has been my standard summer breakfast for almost 4 months and it is getting old. I am looking forward to a change in weather just so I can add instant oatmeal to my diet.

7:30 - I begin to make a British Invasion playlist as I wait for my sister to pick me up and take me to the Bus Stop. The idea is to include quality songs of all the major british artists to influence American music, I start with the Beatles and Stones, and get to The Who before I realize I should lock the doors and windows.

8:15 - My sister picks me up with her four kids in the car. Her face is really begin to show some signs of aging and that makes me feel considerably older. We make small talk and I learn that her kids will not be able to participate in Girl Scouts because part of the proceeds of Girl Scout Cookie's go to planned parenthood. The depth my sister's Catholicism has no end.

8:44 - I am on the bus making my way towards DIA. I decide that now will be a good time to listen to Dave's message. It was left at 11:44 his time which is a little early for a drunk dial but it was a Thursday night. I used to think drunk dials were annoying and dangerous. Now I condsider them to be one of the most endeering forms of communication. The drunk dial almost always garuntees good memories and professions of love. Usually a 15 minute sober catch up is not nearly as interesting as a 3 minute drunk dial rant.

Onto the message: Trevor aka T-Money opens up the drunk dial.

T-Money is a top 5 in my personal aquaintences list. This list is reserved for people who I am not close friends with but if I had the chance I would hang out with them all the time. Trevor is and awesome bundle of pure unharnessed energy. He is so rediculously charming and passionate that if he can avoid a major sex scandal he is a shoe in for a major Government position. One time T-Money got so lit at a frat party he ran into a door and broke he two front teeth. Most people would be so shocked an embarassed by this experience that they would crawl into a hole for a week. Not T-Money, Trevor kept on partying that night and continued to rock out on the dance floor bloody gums and all.

Trevor opens the message professing his love for me and UW football. I am honored that I came first on this list becuase there is no greater love in this world than the love that Trevor has for Husky football. If you have not heard Trevor describe his favorite Husky moments, you are missing out on a dolby surround sound cinematic experience. The message continues on like this for another two minutes. Love is thrown around more frequently than a Shakespearian Sonnet. Dave and James pop in here and there and I cannot wipe the stupid smile off my face, I really miss my good friends of Spokane. I hang up the phone content, pop on Dylan's greatest hits and space out.

10:15 - I arrive at the airport two hours before my flight. Suprisingly I make it through check in and security in record time post 9/11.

10:22 - I walk past McDonald's and realize the breakfast menu is still being served. My granola bar and banana are wearing off and McDonald's sounds way better than Panda Express at 10:22 a.m. and I head to the counter for my McFix. I have a tough selection to make because I recently swore off McGriddles. The McGriddle is the only substance known to man that can cause a hangover without the use of alcohol. I select a sausage egg biscut, it's McDelicious.

10:35 - Living in the burbs of Denver I forget how much Western Culture pervades Colorado. Every third person in DIA looks as though they live on a ranch or has spent more than half of their existence on a farm.

11:30 - Apparently my connecting flight to London goes through the modern metropolis of Cleavland, Ohio. Home to Drew Carey, Brady Quinn, the A.L. Central leading Cleavland Indians, and Lebron James. Is anyone else concerned that Bron Bron has 2 kids out of wedlock at the age of 22? Can you imagine in Michael had two kids within his first 3 years of the league? Congrats to the mother's though. Getting knocked up is like winning the lottery twice. Not only are you in on his quarter billion of current earnings, you have the genetic off-spring of King James. That child has at least a 50% chance of being a professional athelete. Hello early retirement! LeBron if your reading, we understand that you are better at creating sires to the James throne than our friend Henry VIII, but weare a condom bro you don't want to become the next Shawn Kemp.

11:45 - I briefly consider calling my boss to check on how he is doing with my 4 and 1/2 page to do list. That list was typed in 11 point Time New Roman Font, Sucks to be him.

In Air - I bang out most of my London Travel guide and plan an overly ambitious schedule of sights and sounds in London.

I move onto Chuck Klosterman's book Sex, Drugs, and Cocoa Puffs. Chuck is part of a group of post modern American Authors whom I consider to be the voice of the 21 to 34 year old men. All four of these authors specialize in a whirling style of stream of conciousness writing that really works for guys with ADD. In lieu of a cool original nickname I am going to call them the four horsemen of the blogpocolypse.

Bill Simmons - aka "The Sports Guy" - This guy has made a career of sitting around watching t.v. and trolling the internet all day. He has found a way to tie pop culture references into sports in a way that appeals to almost every red blooded American male in generation X and Y.

Dave Eggers - This guy wrote a memior in his late twenties. He probably mastered the style that the rest of these guys emulate. His novel A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius is good like Seinfeld was good.

Jonathan Safran Foyer - Jonathan is probably the most creative of the four writers. He has a wickedly creative and dark sense of humor. He somehow found a way to turn two of the darkest events in history, the Holocaust and 9/11 into incredibly moving and uplifting stories.

Chuck Klosterman - A rock critic and general pop culture specialist. The man poses freakanomics like questions and uses pop culture and personal anecdotes to analyze our society as a whole. Klosterman is probably the most similar to me. He is a goofy looking dude with an affinity for music, disfunctional relationships and innane debates. Some of it is genius, most of it is thought provoking and all of it is entertaining.

If you want some good light reading and you can handle letting go of your pre-pubescent wizard friend for a few days check out any one of these four guys. I am sick of people lisiting their high school reading assignments as their favorite books. It's time to discover something new. Read a book mofos.

5:00 p.m. E.S.T. - I arrive in Cleavland, first thoughts:
- The airport is narrow and shitty
- People aren't necessarily fat, but I would defintely use the term "doughy" to describe the majority of people in the Ohio ariport
- Facial hair is a lot more popular in Cleavland
- The most attractive women all appear to be from India/Pakistan

5:15 - Realizing this will be my last chance to eat Mexican food for 10 days I stop by the tequilaria, to taste Ohio's interpretation of "Mexican"
- Tacos all have a very BBQ esque taste
- They don't serve Mexican beers, nor do they have Coors products, I settle on a Sam Adams and think about writing this blog.

6:50 EST -I board the plane, and I space out with Will Ferrell and Talledega Nights. Weird selection for a flight to England, but whatever.

Somewhere in Halifax Time
- This has to be the most uncomfortable flight ever. I have a fat guy with his wife next to me a baby across from me and a couple whining 8 year olds with legs just long enough to kick my seat behind me. The seating arrangements allows for no way to situate my surgically repaired knee comfortably. The "chicken dinner" I just ate was just terrible. The only thing that is holding me together is Chuck Klosterman. His articles on the Sims and MTV's the Real World were two of the funniest things that I have ever read.

- I think I slept a total of 15 minutes on this flight. The fat guy has a bladder the size of scared gerbal, and that combined with the previously mentioned conditions killed any possibility of sleep. This sucks becuase I know I am going to be jet lagged and I can't afford to lose a day on this trip. On a plus note, breakfast was pretty good and in a short hour we land in London.

7:50 a.m. GMT - I get off my plane and make my way off the tarmac and onto a bus to take us to the terminal. While people get on I play the game "American or British" this is where I guess a person's nationality before they open their mouth.

8:05 - I arrive at Customs and the line is fricking rediculous. On the positive side most of my guesses on the "A vs. B" game were correct. Key tipping points are that British men don't wear undershirts, and British women have bigger noses.

9:30 - I get through customs and collect my bag. My parents rented a car to pick me up, which means my Dad is in a rush to get back to the car to avoid excess parking payments. He bitches for about 5 minutes when he can't find a place to pay for parking.

10:00 - My parents thought that it would be a good idea to take me to stone henge, but it is 3:00 am Denver time and I am fucking exhausted. A 4 hour drive to see some rocks in the English country side sounds about as appealing as a swift kick to the groin. I ask them if we can do an abbreviated tour of suburban London instead (to take your car into downtown London they charge a fee of 20 englsih pounds ($40 not including parking!)

10:15 - We see Hampton palace the first of many Royal buildings that I will see this week, and get lost about 5 times.

10:30 - We are driving back to my parents place and at this stage I have learned 3 things about London.
- Everything in this city revolves around the River Thames (pronouned Temes)
- Everything is fucking expensive
- Everything is named after a Monarch, therefore every city with an English name in America is named after a Monarch.

10:45 - We get to my parents place, 20 Mews (Mews is the name for falcon cages) King George Square (see above). They live about a mile away from Mick Jagger, who has an epic view of the the River Thames (see above). My mom insists that I have something to eat, and I munch on the best bread I have had in 3 years. Man I wish Colorado had decent bakeries.

11:00 - It takes me about 10 minutes to pass out.

Baby You're the TOPPS

2006-12-16T21:02:00.000-08:00

I am getting back into the blogging spirit. There are too many things that I want to tell people. Many of you have asked why I don't keep my blog up to date. I guess its a combination of a lack of interesting stories, a lack of time, and a lack of energy caused by work sucking the life out of me. But I am back, with a vengeance. Let's kick it off right.

I'm For: Prince (the artist formerly known as), Being called a prince Harry Look alike for the last two weeks, Big Zag wins and having coworkers who love to drink and dance to 80s music.

I'm Against: The inconsistency of the Zags, Denver Sports Fans, poor executions of Coors Branding, and FTEs.

Baby You're the Topps:

It's amazing technology has affected the world in ways we cannot even imagine. Information and communication is so accessible that knowledge is available at halfway literate fingertip. It is literally revolutionizing people and companies in ways they could never imagine. Local companies must grow to global proportions or face better cheaper options overseas as competition. Sacred information cannot be kept secret as it will be leaked out instantly, weather it is a business strategy, a wardrobe malfunction, or your friends most recent relationship move. The world is chalk full of Too Much Information. The availability of too much information is going to rock our world sooner than later, and in many cases it has already started.

Particularly in dating...

Can you imagine a world of dating without the facebook, instant messenger, and cell phones? It is almost impossible to imagine. Think about the last five people that you hooked up with... now think about how much of the communication for those hook ups were based on modern technology. The ability to access someone at any time any where has revolutionized the way people date. I have seen and experienced the good and the evil from this technological upgrade. It's true that a spur of the moment call after a few drinks has led me to the path of a lady more than a few nights. But overall technology has been far worse from my dating career.

I have had a number of relationships turn sour because of a misinterpreted or ill conceived instant message. Everyone who has been in a relationship and used instant messenger has spent 45 minutes in a nightmare of an IM fight. You know the one that starts off with a small probe or a slight misinterpreted thought because of lack of tone or body language. It starts off slow but soon blows up into a full fledged anger fest where you are responding to arguments that were written three sentences ago. Suddenly you become a fit of typing rage, insulting everything from their screen name and grammar to the way their hair looked the last time you saw them. In the end you have a transcript of stupidity that makes you feel vindicated, outraged, and petty.

Then there is the facebook that has given me a live ticker on the relationships of my friends.
Thanks to news feed I can live their relationship right along with them. From that tremendous moment that they made it official on facebook and the daily picture publicly displaying affection, right up to things are getting complicated, and the nasty breakup where "Jennifer hates boys and wants her virginity back bitch."

The internet was scary enough with the literal billions of dollars that were being invested into a shameless porn boom. Sure you can get the latest techniques and tips to spice up your relationship, but you can also get desensitized to what a breast looks like after pouring through the trash. It's one thing for random freaks with deranged fetishes to exist, but if you give these people a virtual environment to congregate then it starts to become frightening

Although the competition is stiff, my favorite friend/villain in the technology dating universe is the cellular phone. There was once a time that a man had to travel to a womans house meet their family for several weeks before he could even talk to a woman alone. Now a days all you have to do is send a text message: "what are you doing... I'm bored." Which is pretty much universal code for: "if you are available it would be a good idea for us to hook up." Chivalry died the day wireless technology was invented, there is no chase anymore. Your dating pool is as big as your address book, but the competition is just as fierce. A hot girl in the bar is no longer being hit on by just the douche bags in the bar, but every douche bag that has her number. It is a dangerous thing when you can access anyone when you are drunk, because most of the time your better off sleeping alone.

Not to mention this scenario... You're out with your buddies having a good time. Everyone is b.s.ing having and having a few beers and then someone's girlfriend calls. He has to get up and talk to her for an indefinite amount of time. That conversation is never productive, it is mostly her checking up to make sure he is not cheating on him and him comforting her that he is not. Inevitably one of them breaks down in frustration and anger and your buddies night is ruined. This prompts someone else to call their girlfriend and son on... until a perfectly good night is ruined. There was a time where when you were out you enjoyed the company of people that you were with and nothing else outside of that mattered. Now we have a world of technology that spawns desire and distrust.

It's a shame that we live this way...but its hard to imagine if I could have passed 1st Base without technology.

Which brings me to my next all important point, the base system. You know the one, instead of telling people exactly what you did, you give them a base and let their imaginations wander. I am not sure where this originated but I have a feeling it started in a visitors bullpen in the 50's, or On Happy Days with the Fonz. It is a good system with a great sense of charm and Americana, but I think it needs to be updated given the dramatic changes to the dating world.

The main reason for the update is that we have lost a clear definition of the base path. 1st used to be kissing, 2nd feeling breasts, 3rd oral sex, and home was well you know... ;-) But this system omits a lot of sexual possibilities. Furthermore it does not take advantage of the numerous situations and complexities of baseball. Examples include the sacrifice fly, the intentional walk, bench clearing brawls, and pickles. So in my next blog I will attempt to pair every single relevant baseball term to a dating situation. This could be a long and arduous task and I encourage your feedback.

Why spend time creating such a system? Well for one I think it will be great fun making sexual baseball puns. But more importantly it will help create an accurate stat system for the greatest idea in history.

Playa Cards

Yes just like baseball cards that so many people collected as kids, I propose we create a system of Playa Cards. Everyone would be given boxes of their own Playa Cards at the beginning of each year. On the front a picture of you, either regular pose or an action shot. On the back statistics, including all your vital information and important stats from your dating history.

Think about it... a constantly updated log of your dating exploits broken down into statistical form. You can see your on base percentage, number of strikeouts, and homers by year! Everything would be on that card in black and white, and whenever you met someone you would exchange Playa Cards. That way you could know exactly what you were getting into in the beginning. It would completely eliminate those akward conversations about past relationships and "experience." There would be no weird multiply by 3 formulas like American Pie. If the card said that she had homered with 26 dudes, then it was true. If your on base percentage was 5%, then you knew you had to work on your swing.

Don't even think about stealing this idea... I already have the patent in the works and I am in negotiations with some major card companies who are hurting for business.

Where The Hell Did I go?

2006-11-16T21:20:00.000-08:00

I am back, by popular demand. You wanted it you got it. This Blogs for you.

I wish I had a good story to tell justifying my absence, a tale where I emerged from an abyss only to reveal to the world the true meaning of existence. Instead I can only offer this explanation.

I was tired and lazy.

As many of you knew, I went to Nationals for Ultimate Frisbee. I hyped it up as one of the greatest moments of my life. It turned out to be a pretty monumental failure.

Going into the tournament my team was seeded third. 3rd out of 16 teams that qualified from a pool of roughly 250. We were one of the favored teams to win the whole thing. Prior to the tournament I was totally stoked and ready. Unfortunately, my team wasn't.

The whole year my team's main goal was competing in the World Championship. The World Ultimate Club Championships are similar to the Olympics or the World Cup, in the regard that they are held every four years and invite the best teams from around the world based on a qualifying system. Last year my team qualified by placing third at nationals. They were of course stoked to do this and in turn their entire focus was competing at worlds. Which really downplayed the whole idea of a national championship. (I could not go to Nationals as I did not have any vacation accumulated from work, nor did I have the money to go overseas. Had I really thought about it I might have made more of an effort to go in hindsight. Perth would have been sweet, especially with the opportunity to hang out with a bunch of people from around the world who do the same unique activity as myself. It would have been an amazing experience, unfortunately for me, the timing was completely wrong.)

So when the choice between Nationals and Worlds came for many of my teammates who did not have enough time or money to do both, many of my teammates chose worlds instead. To be exact 5. You can never exactly determine the impact of what a player does for your team. Its not like a formula, where players are worth certain amounts of points per game. The truth is we definitely were not as strong without those five key players and it affected us with talent and chemistry. I played out of position for the entire first day, and I could not find a rhythm on the field. Even though we were seeded 3rd we lost all three of our game on the first day, to the 6th 11th and 14th seeds. Not only did we lose but we lost by large margins, we were hardly even competitive.

At the end of my first day at Nationals, I had not played particularly well. My team was essentially knocked out of the competition, and we were all mentally devastated. Keep in mind that this season I had not experienced two consecutive losses with this team. In fact I had not even lost twice in the same day. Now we were in a situation where we lost 3 games in a row, we were eliminated from the championship round, and we were still playing the 9-16 best teams in the country. How do you turn that mentality around?

We didn't we lost the next two games.

Ont the third day I had enough, it was the two year anniversary of my Grandfathers death and I was not going to let his blood run through my veins as a quitter. I did not care how hard I had to run or work, I was going to win a game that day. So seeing as nothing else had worked for me the entire weekend, and there were 30 mph winds that were making Frisbee close to unplayable I decided that the only thing I could do was run harder than anyone else on the field. I didn't care if I was playing for 15th place. I was going to win 15th place and not lose to 15th place. My brutal strategy worked. We won, I scored four of our 10 points and assisted two others. Fuck my stats, it was the 15th place game, but we got a victory and that was better than going home with nothing.

We sucked. Now I wrote about it... My bad. No more Ultimate posts this year.

120 Day Review

2006-10-14T12:17:00.000-07:00

My company was supposed to have a 90 day review with me but with realignments, busy work schedules, and vacations my review slipped through the cracks. It is not a huge deal, technically it is not required and I meet with my supervisors every week anyway. I am more bummed out because I am missing out on a free meal and that my bosses will not forced to compliment me and talk about my "weaknesses" that don't exist.

Since I am not getting a 90 day review I decided to do a 120 day review of the "real world." My plans are to talk about what is awesome about the real world, what sucks about the real world, and how college fared in "preparing me for the real world." It should be noted that I have been living with my parents for the majority of this period so my perception of the real world is way skewed. In the end, it will probably never look like this format because I write whereever my mind takes me. This results in Blogs that are too long to read, with terrible editing of spelling and punctuation.

Real World Weaknesses (hey we want to end on a good note right?)

- Commuting: I said it before I will say it again, commuting blows. Not just commuting too and from work either, although that certainly blows. I am talking about commuting to your friends place, commuting for entertainment, trying to figure out rides to the bars, and all that crap. The only thing less fun than figuring out rides is a DUI. Half of the time I cannot have a good time when I am out because we are so concerned about having a sober driver. To make matters worse there is also weather to consider. There is nothing worse than needing to be somewhere on time, when there is shitty weather outside. Snow was cool in high school and college, not so much in the working world.

- Laundry: Not only do I need to have clean clothes, they need to be presentable. No more wrinkles, that requires ironing which cuts into videogame and blogging time. Plus special requirements like dry cleaning and cold water cycles. Screw that my wool sweater looks good on me tight and clingly.

- Copy machines: Colleges set you up to take on the world, but what you really need to know is how to take on the copy machine. I don't make strategic marketing decisions and I sure as hell don't use my religion 101, but I do use printers and copy machines every day. Nobody knows how to use them, nobody takes classes on how to use them. It is just like Office Space every day we have an issue with a paperjam or printing the wrong size paper. But can anyone address these issues? Nope.

- Meetings: There are lots of them, and they keep on coming. At every meeting I am expected to pay attention, but very rarely contribute. I am not the kind of person that can focus on something when I am not actively contributing. As a result my mind often wanders and I do this stupid daze off into the distance with my mouth half open look. Women probably think I am staring at them, usually I am just thinking of Ultimate, what I want to make for dinner, or what is going on in the heads of the people around me. Meetings rarely get a lot accomplished for the majority of people in the room, it just seems to add stress to everyones lives.

- Maintaining friendships: I spend 8 hours a day with people that I sort of care about at work. Then by the time I get home and eat dinner its 7:30. Assuming there is little clean up and I don't have to do laundry, iron, shop or do some other bullcrap task. I have like 2 hours until I should be going to bed. If I can find someone that wants to hang out, we have like an hour to hang out plus commuting time. So social time is restricted for weekends. But most of that time I am vegging out watching football, sleeping off a hangover, or doing some planned activity.

- Women: The Real World makes you appreciate the women in your life even more, because it is pretty hard to find and abundance of women with your same lifestyle and mentality in the Real World. It is hard to meet people in bars, you never know what you are going to get when you go out. In college you already have a lot in common just by going to the same school. Every woman I used to meet had a similar background, or we had a general appreciation for each other. In the real world, every time I meet a woman its a blank slate. Then when I start talking about myself I feel like I am bragging like an utter douche. It's probably because I am so awesome.

Money: Everything costs money, and all the costs pile up. I realize now what a pain in the ass it is to maintain a good lifestyle. I cannot imagine how much worse this would be with kids. I am not even paying for half of the stuff that I will eventually have to and I am still kind of concerned about cash flows. I cannot imagine life with other people.

The overall theme that sucks about the real world is a lack of free time. It is not like college where studying, or going to class is strongly encouraged. At any point if something is more important you can just take class off. I reguarly slept through a class if I had a test later on in the day, I can't do that if I have a client presentation at 10:00. Although I would really like to sometimes, I don't think I have that legitimacy. In school I was busy, but it was on my own schedule, on my own terms. In the real world, your world is dicatated by everyone elses schedule and time for yourself constantly evapoarates for the needs of others.

Real World Strengths

- People still know how to party: For some reason I had this perception that once you graduated from college you had to instantly mature and stop getting wasted all the time. That is false, old people know how to party and when they get the opportunity they party even harder. I have been in shock and awe by the abilities of some of my co-workers to drink, and keep drinking. They regularly close down bars and perform acts of drunken stupidity that put anything I have ever done to shame. I never thought that my VP would be cheering me on as I was chugging four beers out of a disc, just 3 months into my career.

- Money: Even though I don't feel like I have a lot of money, it is a bizarre feeling checking my bank statement and seeing it increase. It is a pretty awesome feeling not worrying about paying for a good meal, or buying people beer. The only problem is I am spending all my money to save time, or make the most of your time. Mostly in the form of meals, new cds for commuting, xbox, and flights for Ultimate.

- No Homework, Yet: Right now there is no homework for my job. Most days when the day is over, I pack up my crap and I don't think about it until the next morning. That is a good mental switch.

- Trust: People in the real world generally trust you to do the right thing for yourself. Unlike in college where we have administrators, RAs, and parents making sure that we are doing the right thing. In the real world, people expect you to figure out shit for yourself, and learn from your mistakes. That is kind of refreshing, it also makes you paranoid that you have the drive and determination to do the right thing.

- Problem Solving: In the real world you have lots of opportunities to address problems and solve them. Every day something new pops up that I have no idea how to solve, and I go about figuring it out. These begin to represent a lot of mini milestones that make me all warm and fuzzy inside.

- Company Perks: One of the coolest things about being in the real world is that there is a lot of money and connections out there. I have done all sorts of cool shit way outside of my budget, just by putting my name out there.

What the hell did College do?

College is a weird little paradox. It is supposed to prepare you for the real world, but it gives you all sorts of fairytale psuedo realities to deal with. The lifestyle is absurd when you think about it. You are paired with thousands of other people your age, who are looking for the same thing. For the most part you don't have any real monetary concerns because you are either sponsored by scholarships, family, or loans. You have insane amounts of freetime that you are supposed to find things that you are passionate about to occupy your time. For most people that is drinking/persuing memebers of the opposite sex, random clubs, and viewing college events. People during this entire time talk about how hard their life is and how they are struggling with their identity, school, and no time. When in reality their life is about is perfect and privilaged as it gets.

Classes are also rediculous. Most of the time you are digesting complex theories and analysis tools from overpriced textbooks written by stuffy nerds who do not live in reality. Most of these theories and tool you never use again, and you merely regurgatate onto paper for tests and essays.

In my last two years of school I took almost exclusively management and strategy classes. Entering the working world, I am at least 10 years away from using that kind of information on a daily basis. Most of the work that I am assigned could be done by any individual with a decent high school education and a stong work ethic. Based on my experience in my first four months of work this is what my course schedule have looked like.

8:30 - 10:00 M-F: electronic communications: How to read/write/organize/archive email effectively

10:30 - 12:00 MWF: Public listening: Learning to passively/actively listen ask questions and take notes for public communications

10:30 - 12:00 T TR: Filing and Organization: How to organize and file documents in a meaningful and effective manner.

12:30 - 2:00 M-F Social Business 101: Varied seasonal activities including business golf, eating, fantasy sports, and general bullshitting with coworkers

2:30 - 4:00 M-F Business Electronics: Understanding business machines and programs: Learn the nuances of Word, Excel, Powerpoint, printers, copiers, fax machines, and phones.

4:30 - 5:00 Vegging Out: Effective websites for "stress relief"

5:00 - 6:15 M-F Aggressive Driving: Learning the tips of the trade for how to get to your destination quickly and dangerously.

7:00 pm - 4:00 am MWFSS Business Drinking: How to drink like you got a pair,

4:00 am - 7:00 am Hangover Recovery

In the end I wonder why everyone goes to college, I certainly do not think it is for as many people who go. Maybe it is just a standard for hiring that we have set for some bizarre reason. Maybe everyone thinks that we need to blow off at least four years of our lives drinking and pursuing strange members of the opposite sex, and they needed a way to justify it. I guess the biggest thing that I got out of college was confidence. The confidence that I am capable of solving any problem that comes my way, or defeating any competitor put in front of me. Through the combination of random shit I did in college, I have succeeded enough and solved enough problems that I know I can take on anything that comes my way.

In the end I think that is worth 4 years, $50,000 of my parents money.

On The Fringe

2006-10-03T21:10:00.000-07:00

In the past two and a half weeks I have managed to be a part of a team that has won a State and Regional championship. This is an incredible accomplishment for me considering that approximately 3 years ago I could barely throw a Frisbee. In three weeks, I am going to Florida to compete with 1,000 of the best Ultimate Frisbee players in the country. That is quite a bit of growth and turnaround.

But you know what is really amazing about this? Outside of my teammates, and a few close friends do you know who really cares about this? Absoloutely no one.

This is kind of contrary to the world of sports that I have come to know. From the day that I learned about the concepts of sports and competition, I was programmed to believe that they were important and relavant to everyone. In kindergarten we had "Bronco Day." A day that we wore orange and blue and sang songs, to celebrate the Denver Bronco's making it to yet another Superbowl. I still remember the lyrics to a song "The Broncos are tough! The Niners are scared!" Apparently the Niners were not scared as they schlacked the Broncos by 30 points.

The rest of elementary school I was inundated with moments of sporting winners. Olympics made me care about Nancy Kerrigan, Carl Lewis, Dan Jansen, Bonnie Blair, and The Dream Team. I wanted to be like Mike because he was a winner with poise and passion for the big game. I wanted to score and pass like the undersized but wise "Great One." I wanted to come up in the clutch like "Mr. October." These images were accompanied by victories of my own winning championships in my little leagues. By the time I got to high school we went to so many pep rallies celebrating our sports teams and their accomplishments that I was pretty much fed up with the situataion. So of course I decided to go to Gonzaga, where basketball was life. Now T.O. tries to commit suicide and it is headline news in every publication in the nation. But, When a teenager shoots himself because jocks made his life a living hell, well it is a senseless tragedy because the boy had trouble "fitting in".

Grown men spend 4 hours a week researching every football player in the NFL and managing Fantasy teams so they can take credit for these players on field accomplishments. No stat goes unnoticed, after all we found out about it and we used it to win the game.

Yes, sports do matter, but only because we want them to. We create elaborate storylines and overemphasize symbolic meanings and significance. The Saints and Reggie Bush are going to save New Orleans, not government aide, tourism dollars, and volunteer assistance. Brett Farve is a hero because he lost his father and he played in a football game a week later. Yet the little boy down the street who loses his father and has to go to school the next week without a Dad is just a regular kid.

Yeah I am a little Jaded. I have heard enough of these overdramatic stories. Sports are great and entertaining but they are not as important as we market them. It is downright wrong and stupid that we are seeing drama's based on High School football teams on prime time television. 14 year old boys should not be rated as top NBA prospects. Sports are becoming too important to us that we are dipping into totally out of line sources to get our fix.

So it is a weird feeling playing a sport and being on one of the best teams in the country and having absolutley no one care. It is like I am in this secret society where only a few people really understands the satisfaction that I get from the sport and how big it is. It is cool because the game is pure, you play it because you love it and the thrill you get out of it.

But I must tell you sometimes it bothers the hell out of me when people have no idea what is going on. Whenever I tell someone that I play Ultimate Frisbe I hear "oh yeah there is a course right by my house... or yeah I saw that on TV once man those dogs are awesome." Ineveitably I have to explain to them the entire premise of the game. How it is similar to football dimensions and scoring, how it involves a lot of running and strategy, how I have to travel hours and play 5-8 games in a weekend. They nod their heads, and say they understand but they really don't get it. Becuase it is impossible you have to do it you have to get bitten by the bug.

I take Ultimate entirely too seriously, to the point it is stupid. I mean after all this is a sport that is self officiated by the players playing. In a championship game we had a do over, and ar rediculous argument about landing in or out of bounds. It is behavior that makes 5th grade playground football seem sophisticated. In spite of all these factors I am spending over $2,000 and the majority of my free time practicing, conditioning, and traveling to play the game.

I cannot even begin to explain how cool Ultimate is for me. Even if I did most of you would not really understand or care.

For me it is extremely important because it allows me to remain competitive in a sport. I can still compete at the highest level of something. Which for me would be impossible in something like basketball, soccer, football, or tennis. It is how I understand that so many adults like Golf and Running. Because even though you may not be able to compete at the highest level, you can still play the same courses or run the same races or distances as the best. Ultimate has that quality but it does so in a team atmosphere which in itself is very important. There is something indescribable and special about pushing one another to reach a common goal. You share in a certain comraderie through physically sweating and bleeding with someone that cannot be achieved in ordinary situations. What makes this feeling even more awesome is that I am sharing it with other everyday people who work full time jobs, have kids, and we all come together and release our stress through this incredible team game that allows for incredible plays where people put their bodies and minds on the line.

The competition of the sport is combined with that camraderie not only with your team but the other participants. People who play Ultimate automatically get you because they have the same idea of personal accomplishment and self sacrafice as you. Any time you hang out at and Ultimate party you meet lots of people just like you. It is like combining a professional sport, with a corporate summer Softball league mentality.

Ultimate is in a very unique stage of existence. It is big enough that it has an organized central body with local, regional, and national championships. But it is small enough that a person who has only been playing 3 years can seriously compete at its highest level. The sport is growing like mad, particularly at the high school and college level, but it is doing very well to maintain its niche subculture feel.

The people also want to share this mentality within the sport to make it grow. You have the games best players going out of the way to volunteer their time to coach high schoolers and give them the opportunity to play and enjoy sports for what they are really meant to be. In Colorado I went to a coaches meeting and saw some of the greatest Ultimate players of all time talking about ways to help grow high school ultimate. This would be like Jerry Rice, John Elway, John Lynch, and Tom Brady going to their local high schools and coaching football. In addition to holding a full time job.

In the last two weeks as I won my first two Ultimate tournaments ever I began to think how I was going to tell everyone about how big of an accomplishment this was. I decided that it was impossible, the only people that understand are the people who play the sport and in particular the teammates that share my experience. So after I caught the last point that ended our game against San Diego winning us the Regional championship and a spot in the National Championship Tournament. I simply held up my arms and let my teammates rush around me. To celebrate we all smiled, shared a few laughs, drank a few beers and recalled some of our favorite plays. It was one of the greatest feelings I have ever had. One of pure joy of the accomplishment with a group of people. We smiled our whole journey home, from the fields to the bar, to the planes. I got back into Denver at 11:00 and didn't get home and into bed until midnight.

The next day I limped out of bed with all my muscles sore from running 5 games in 102 degree heat. I went into work and thought to myself, how many atheletes have to wake up the day after winning a championship and go to work? The thought brought a big smile on my face and when one of my co-workers asked why are you so happy?

All I could say was it's hard to explain.

MySpaceBook

2006-09-28T21:08:00.002-07:00

The Diary of an Addict

I remember the day she came to me. She sent me an email, her name was College Facebook. She claimed to be a social network, a place where I could meet people. I rejected her attempts to come onto me, she was not my type. But this facebook was not easily turned away. She came to me again and this time around she had minions. My friends were telling me how great she was, how much time they speant with her. She was real cool and she had lots of connections.

I gave in, I signed up but did not pay much attention to her. I filled out a few bits but I was not aware of her powers. Occassionally she reminded me of a friend's birthday, or introduced me to someone that I already kind of knew. Overall, I did not see much of her appeal.

Then a short time later my friends told me that there was a new girl in town. Her name was The Facebook. My friends told me that she was better than the other girl. She was more powerful, way more sexy, and twice as popular. After my dissapointment with the first girl, I did not give in like last time. My friends insisted that this one was way better, this one even got two of my friend's girlfriends in different states! They sent them pictures in crazy outfits and offered to pay for trips to meet. In spite of these crazy stories, I would not give in. One facebook was enough.

Then everything changed. The beasts merged to form a multiheaded beast. By being in one I was automatically joined in the other, I was not prepared for this commitment but before I could do anything I was sucked in. New friends added me every day, forcing me to return to the site. They tagged my wall making fun of what I did the night before. Every time I went back the beast grew stronger, and so did my attraction to it.

There were clubs to join, some were real others were rediculous. I was in fan clubs celebrating my friends. I acknowledged that basketball players needed to grow moustaches, I reminded everyone that I was from Colorado which made me the shit, and that when I drank that I liked to dance dirty. By viewing my selection of clubs people would think that I was witty and would want to hang out with me, and women would want to sleep with me. My friends and I posted pictures of ourselves showing that we could get drunk and behave like wankers.

A year went by and The Facebook became very popular, I reconnected with friends I had not seen since elementary school. People that I never spoke to in high school were now regular buddies. We agreed that we would meet and catch up when I came back into town, but we never did. I made sure to make minor alterations to my music and movie selections to show that I was cultured because I knew of bands that had not been played on the radio. I updated my quote to make me seem deep, yet funny, and sincere. People were really getting to know who I was, and people respected me. Fans from my comedy shows would add me as a friend, I didn't know them but I let them be a friend because I bet they would feel real special to know someone as cool as me.

When I was drunk I would go on the facebook, that way I could make obscene comments on other people's walls and look to see if any of the hot girls that were my friends updated their pictures. Hmm Rebecca is interested in Women...

Now facebook lets me know when my friends make updates to their profile. I can check every other day to see who has updated their profile and search for what changes they made. Sometimes it is a challenge to see if I can notice the update, usually it is just Larry updating a quote, or Kevin adding yet another band to his list of favorites. Sometimes I check on my groups to see if anything is going on, but nothing ever changes... I wonder why we join these clubs.

The other day facebook let me know what my friends update in their profile. Now they highlight when they make changes so I can see exactly what new band Kevin likes, or what new movie Dan watched last week. It is pretty good, it sure makes my searches easier but there is not much fun to my game.

Today FACEBOOK went too far! Now all the updates made to my friends profiles are sent directly to my homepage. Now I can see that Jenny is no longer single, and that Dave posted on Matt's wall. This means that they must all be able to see exactly what I do every day! That is way too far, I mean if people want to look for what I am doing that is one thing but for it to be broadcast to my friends, fans, and potential love interests! This is too much I cannot handle this. Facebook must be stopped! I need to stop this, I know I will start a club! No more facebook stalking. But first I need to join this club so a guy can have a threesome with his girlfriend.

In the last three hours I just joined six different clubs that will definitely stop this Facebook business. They really went too far, even though now I know that Jennifer really likes Steve because she posted a drunk message on his wall last night, it was so funny. Oh Oh, 6 of my friends just joined Bitch Please! I am from New Hampshire. Shit, I better join. This new Facebook feed is so terrible.

Our petitions totally made a difference, Facebook made privacy control. Now no creepy guys are going to be able to see my profile or see who's wall I post on. But now Facebook is going to let people who are not in College on the Facebook! That is totally wrong, I mean who cares if they can't see my profile unless they are in my network or my friend. These people could be from anywhere and they could be watching me. They could be that creepy guy that masturbates in the library. I am not going to let that happen I need to join a club immediately. But first, I got to see what Megan wrote on Jenny's wall.

So today facebook opened up to the public and I swear that I am totally going to quit just like that club said I would. But I need to get a few phone numbers and addresses from friends, and poke a couple of people who I haven't seen since high school. Gosh, I heard Facebook is going to sell to Microsoft, Google, or Yahoo. They are totally going to screw everything up, I can't stand it when big corporations screw up something so cool. I mean this was something that was built just for me and my friends and now somebody wants to make money off of it!? What the F? I hate facebook and I swear if they sell to a big company I am going to quit. But first I have to add Jack Daniels as my friend!

(Created to show that, we are a stalking culture. Not only do we want to know about other people, secretly we want others to know about us.)

Karma Police

2006-09-21T09:14:00.000-07:00

Everytime that I make a note that my life is going exceedingly well, something comes along and kicks me in the ass.

I have been living a very charmed life post graduation. I have landed in a situation where I will get to live in my parents house, without my parents. For now I have to live with my parents which is not so bad when you consider free food, free housing, and regularly packed lunches and ironed clothes.

I have landed the coolest job possible for me. I get to sit around think about how to sell beer, tell jokes and hang out with people who are as dorky and immature as I am. Example: the other day I was walking out of a happy hour after work with my friend Adam. We hear a knock on the window next to us and see a hand flipping us off. Adam asks, what was that? My response, "That was my VP flipping us off" as I casually threw my middle finger right back at his direction. The perks for this job have been rediculous, Rockies Games, Concerts, and Free Beer. Plus I am doing really good work that is fun, challenging and creative.

I am almost completely recovered from my sternum break. I was able to play and contribute to our state championship victory and I am running very well going into regionals.

So just as I was about to drive to a team dinner thinking, man my life is phat. White Lightning (my car) died. This wasn't your average death for a car. White Lightning made a piece of work with this one. White lightning was giving me some trouble starting so I had her jumped. I was pretty pissed because I just had the battery replaced. I decided to drive it back to the repair shop to complain about the faulty maintence. On my way home I take two of the biggest highways in Denver, 6 and I-25. Pretty soon I realize there is something wrong with White Lightning. The battery light and parking break light come on, then the airbag light starts flashing. Thinking that death is pretty much imminent I decide I need to get the car off the road. Unfortunately this is when White Lightning shuts down, mid drive, on the highway. I am coasting 25 mph trying to pull my car off the road, with no lights, no accleration. Cars are pissed and swerving around me. Somehow I pull off on the exit of I-25 and highway 6. It's 8 pm its dark and I have no hazards or any other way to notify speeding cars that I am a sitting duck.

After nearly shitting myself for 10 minutes, trying to call someone to help me a car pulls up behind me to flash their hazards. A tow truck comes and I am out alive, barely. White Lightning's alternator died, the third major repair in three months. To go along with that all my calls used up the last minutes of my cell phone, which also has stopped working.

So I don't have a phone, or a car, I pretty much lost all of my independence.

Good Karma is on the way.

VMA Overplay

2006-09-05T20:51:00.000-07:00

Now that the VMA's are in heavier rotation than Oprah rolling down a steep hill, I have seen enough to pass some judgements about the state of our society.

As I mentioned before the Video Music Awards are pretty much a paradox because MTV no longer plays music videos. Where they get the content for the awards boggles my mind. They must have done a lot of searches on google and youtube to find videos for competiton. It does not really matter because the Video Music Awards are not really about Videos or Music. It is MTV demonstrating its megolmania by showing how popular they are as a media source. During the show MTV goes through celebrities like a college freshman goes through toilet paper. A typical sequence goes like this: Celebrity Host (in this case Jack Black), does something obnoxious to get 150 pity laughs. Then he introduces the next celebrity (say Paris Hilton) using some joke that a copy writer spent two hours perfecting. That celebrity takes the next minute to:

A. Plug their next movie/cd/tv show.
B. Squash some rumor swirling about them in the tabloids.
C. Giving a shout out to God, a geographic segment, their entourage, their mother, or Diddy.
D. Annouce what other celebrity they would like to sleep with in the audience.

Paris Hilton selects to do E. All of the above. After she does her obligitory self-love sequence, she gets around to introducing a Musical guest. Apparently Jack Black could not introduce the musical guest himself, so we got Paris Hilton to do it because she is such a fucking eloquent speaker. Paris introduces some mediocre act. The performance features hired models dancing around and members of the audience flashing cell phones sponsored by some company. After they are finished, Jack Black will do his stichk again introducing yet another pair of celebrities. They will akwardly read off the teleprompter and deliver some "artist" an award. That artist will thank God, his record company, his drug dealers, his mother, and Diddy. Somehow, God wanted you to win this award for rapping about having sex with strippers, selling drugs, and your platinum grill. Just like God wanted the Patriots to score that touchdown, and just like God wanted me to get a free burrito last week. When said "artist" is done with their speech we cut to a 15 minute commercial break and then go through the sequence again with different celebrities.

As if the event and the process wasn't stupid enough we get to see what is in style. Here are the trends that I gathered from this year.

1. Bling on regular cotton shirts: Apparently bedazzling is back with a vengenece. If you want to outshine the competition all you need to do is get out your glue gun and raid your local hobby lobby. Three hours later voila' you are more hip hop than Tiffany.

2. Stunna Shades: So what if it is 8:00 pm in Radio City Music Hall? The sun is out in Tokyo, and Kanye and Diddy aren't willing to risk any UV damage. Besides with all that bling in the air you better get out your sunglasses.

3. Theater Rock: Apparently the rock community is appealing to the theater, band, and outcast crowd. Gone are the days of mysoginistic, kick you in the balls metal, or dirty depressed hard rock. In are fruity haircuts, Victorian productions, and lyrics that talk about how hard it is to be working on stage crew.

4. Axl Rose: Axl was a hero of mine. He proved that skinny redheads from the midwest can rock harder than anyone else. He was the baddest mother fucker on the planet and he knew it. He created epic music, epic videos, and lived like a rock star in fairy tales. Unfortunately, my respect ended for him when he showed up on yet another VMA trying to rekindle the success that he self destructed over ten years ago. Axl your not a nice guy and until you reunite the band you will never be cool again.

The future of music does not look bright. There is a lot of over indulgence in pop and hip hop. If I had all the resources in the world right now the first thing I would do is create a major cable station that rivals MTV's target audience. MTV has so much power because they control such a precious demographic for marketers. No other cable network appeals to youth audiences like MTV does, but MTV provides the worst programming out there. MTV's main competition is owned by the same parent communications company, that is why VH1, MTV2, CMT, and all the other networks are getting shittier and shittier. But MTV will continue to flourish because marketers will pour any amount of money to get in touch with their audience.

The one though provoking item of the evening was the night's opening act Justin Timberlake. Between his performance and me listening to Michael Jackson's Number Ones on my ipod I had a revelation.

Is Justin Timberlake the male best pop icon of our generation? Without a doubt Michael Jackson is the pop icon of generation X. (I am talking Michael Jackson back when he made good music, before all the plastic surgeries and sleeping with children.) To this day if you throw on Michael Jackson at any wedding or party, no matter what race the majority of the people in the room will be in favor of the music. Sure everyone will make a comment here or there, but there is no denying that is great dance music.

With his recent performance, I elevated Justin to a poor man's version of Michael Jackson up from a homeless man (to use the parlance of the sports guy). Even when he was with 'NSYNC Justin had a recognizable talent that was far above all of his boyband peers. There was not another person from that generation that compared including backstreet, 47* calvin, OurTown t. I hate to say that I am able to analyze boy bands this well, but we were inundated with that shit.

Justin is a couple hit singles away from getting up to that Michael Jackson quality where he could be liked by anyone. He is pretty close with songs like Rock Your Body and Cry Me a River. I am not saying that Justin will ever come close to a Thriller, Bad, Billie Jean, Smooth Criminal, or Beat It. But he could certainly get up to some wearker singles like The Way You Make Me Feel, or Can't Stop Loving You.

Justin still has a very long way to go before he gets to that level. Right now he doesn't even have the best songs of his generation. Kanye West, Outkast, and Pharrel are blowing him out of the water. However, Justin has the performance ability and cross cultural appeal that could elevate him above his peers given the right music. The key to Michael Jackson's success in capturing white America was his use of heavy rock and blues elements in his music. A lot of Michael Jackson's songs had a fundamental rock sound, Beat It and Black or White even had full fledged guitar solos. Michael Jackson may be insane now, but at one point he was a musical genius.

If Justin Timberlake can demonstrate some of that song production in his next record we may have a lesser version of Thriller on our hands. Who knows maybe 10 years from now we will be dancing to his songs at our weddings, and college students will be requesting JT's greatest hits at the bowling alley. I am not saying we have another Michael Jackson on our hands, far from it.

But, he may be smarter than we think, after all he knew when to break up with Britney Spears.

...And on the Third Day He Rested (ECE Part III)

2006-09-04T11:22:00.000-07:00

Day three started out a lot like day two. Except the hangover was more severe, and the memories were more absurd. RTJ's Dad came up huge with a breakfast fit for champions and I gorged myself before rushing to Seattle for the Mariners game.

We parked at Dave's eventually and started the hike to the Mariners game. Seattle is fucking Hilly, almost to the point of San Francisco, fortunately most of the way to the game was downhill. After a short bus ride through the shitty part of town I recognized Paul Seiler from a distance (who else wears black socks and black shoes with shorts?) Paul was on my frisbee team and was the kind of guy that you could call to pick you up at 5 in the morning and he would do it without giving you an ounce of shit. That's something that I am pretty much not capable of, and for that I really admire him. We caught up for awhile, he is working for PACCAR, pretty much the Cadillac of Semi-Trucks. It was good to catch up with him, and to hear he was doing well.

From my understanding Coors Field is one of the nicest ballparks in the majors and Safeco straight up blew it out of the water. The activity in the stadium was incredible with vendors for Thai, Sushi, Fish and Chips, and all sorts of non-traditional/traditional ball park fare. Most importantly they had tons of local microbrews and a beergarden in the stadium. Our seats were directly behind the right field foul pole. Which was pretty much where all the Japanese were seated so they could be as close to Ichiro as possible. The biggest difference between Safeco and Coors was the fan involvement. The Rockies were still in the playoff chase when I went to the game and there was virtually no fan participation. But throughout the game in Safeco the fans were attentive, and genuinely excited for all the action. I had a true SafeCo experience, I saw Ichiro hit an infield single, a grand slam, and a Big Papi home run.

After the game we walked through downtown Seattle, which looks pretty sweet during the day. It's a little older and has more flavor than 16th street mall, but there are more hippies. We ate Fish and Chips at Ivars on the Pier, and fed the Seagulls. These Seagulls were awesome, we threw fries in the air and they would fly out and catch them in one smooth motion. It was like connecting with a cross species ally oop, or post pattern. It came to a tragic end when Dave threw a huge chunk at a bird, missed, and the fish rolled down and hit another patron of a different race. We hung our heads in shame and took our walk back up the hill to Dave's.

At that point everyone was exhausted from the weekend. We planned on going to see Snakes on a plane but instead just rested and enjoyed the last few hours that we would all have a chance to be in the same room for quite some time. We said our goodbyes, and all concluded that it was one hell of a weekend. That is something that I cannot emphasize enough. It was perfect that everyone decided to drop everything and come out to make this mini-reunion happen. I could not think of a better way to cap off the summer. It was like college, but with mini-vans and champagne.

I must say, I live a pretty charmed life right now in Denver. I have an awesome job where I get to be a part of fun and creative processes to sell beer. Denver is an awesome city with tons to do, and awesome weather. When I finally get to be healthy I will be on a kickass ultimate team with good people. However, if I could change one thing, it would be to be surrounded by the people I got to hang out with in college. My core group of friend that I met Freshman year and lived with for the next four years were such a unique collaboration of people that fit my personality remarkably well.

Dave and I talked about the origin of this group and how we all met. The event that we all trace it back to, is the moment Brett asked Dave to get his 21 year old friend to buy beer. Beer brought us together, and has given an excuse to hang out over and over again since then.
We are a group of guys that all follow sports religiously, and claim to be far better athletes than they actually are. We all grew up with Rock but have a weird appreciation and obsession with the absurdity of Hip Hop. We are a bunch of dorks who's akwardness with women increases exponentially with the size of our group. To this point in my life it was the best group of friends that I have had, and I look forward to the next time we get to hang out, over a beer of course.

Appetite for Destruction: (Emerald City Epic Part 2)

2006-08-30T16:50:00.000-07:00

As expected I woke up with a hangover in a room that felt like a sauna and smelled like stale asshole. After taking about 10 minutes to get out of the top bunk I managed to get a drink of water, some tums, and advil in my system. I went back into my room where I was rooming with Dave. We were the only ones awake because we had both been in different time zones and were two of the only reguarly employed people in the hoard. Dave is working in insurance, and has been taking part in an intensive training program that shipped him out to locations where he congragated with other entry level employees from different field offices across the nation. They train at these sessions for weeks at a time, and get to live a "real world" esque experience where people from all different backgrounds and geographic locations congregate and make fun of each others weird habits and accents. Dave and I concluded that people from the East coast suck and that their values have been skewed from living in overly populated areas for entirely too long. We also concluded that Colarado and Washington are the shit, and thereby we are the shit. Thank you critical thinking and Dr. Tkacz, (I hope he had gastric bypass). I gained a new respect for Dave, he is growing a lot from his current experience. It is stressful to live in hotel rooms and not have any time to relax in a place that you can identify as home.

Due to Dave's unfortunate housing situation, we did not have the wedding invitation on hand and as a result we had no idea where the location or exact time of the wedding. The next 30 minutes we harassed Matt (who for all of his good qualities has never been a morning person in any sense of the phrase) to call the brides younger sister. Matt finally obliged and we were directed to a website of the wedding, which all new weddings seem to have. Satisified to at least know the location of the wedding we split up: Dave and Brett to settle Daves housing situation, the rest of us to get some breakfast and a frame for our card.

Picture five hungover 22 year old guys driving around in a minivan and entering a craft market. To buy a frame for a "card". The word card is not really accurate as it was bascially a collage glorifying our drunken exploits from Freshman year, with a cameo from Samuel L. Jackson of Snakes on a Plane fame. We combined that with a bottle of Dom Perignon wrapped in Pirates of the Carribean wrapping paper as a collective gift. The rest of the afternoon we debated how we were going to actually get to and from the wedding, and if we could get a hotel. It took roughly three hours to determine that we were going to pile into a minivan blast rap music and roll up with a possee of 8 dudes to a wedding where we weren't sure we were actually wanted. Driving this shit show is Michael Brodie (Engineer, metal guitarrist, and self-proclaimedsex feind). We ironed our shit only to find that all of us were wearing essentially the same outfit, as if we didn't look like big enough tools already.

In our fear of showing up late and looking like assholes, we arrived at the wedding almost 45 minutes early. Rather than cluster around akwardly we sat in the nearby arboreum harassing ants, and watching mexican children disrupt the peace. Finally, Andrew Dzjeck, Zach fellow RA and groomsman showed up to invite us inside. From what I can tell Andrew never really had a childhood, and was obsessed with politics from the age of 10. He confirmed this when he said that he got Zach Pots and Pans for his wedding, and told us he was working on a campaign. We followed his advice and waltzed in, trying to not make a scene even though the very sight of us probably brought up a few questions in more than one guests mind.

The wedding started and was beautiful. It was outside running up on this private lake, with Mt. Raineer in the background. There was a handmade wood alter straight out of Meet the Parents, that set the scene for a crystal clear day at sunset. The view was amazing and one that you don't often see in Seattle. Zach was ancy and bouncing around like the dorky child that he is throughout the ceremony. He kept on fidgeting with Andrea's hands, and telling her that he loved her. He was full of the energy that he had the first week of my freshman year, I was really happy and excited for that.

Weddings are great because you get to experience the full spectrum of emotions. People are sad to see friends, and children grow up and leave, but excited loving and happy. It is one of the few times when people are completely able to express their emotions in a public forum. That in turn allows everyone appreciate how beautiful life can be.

The wedding had all the usual rituals, food, toasts, cake cutting, boquet tossing, drinking, dancing and revelry. Zach's uncle's band played the wedding. They were a super cheesy wedding band that wore leopard. It really cramped my dancing mood, but they played a couple songs that made the evening worthwhile. Things began to pick up after a few songs, when a girl named Jessi began to pick me and my friends off to go dancing. In a not too long period of time she began to take a liking to my dancing style and started picking me out of crowds to dance whenever I was resting. I was too busy doing my own drinking to realize this girl was getting hammered, because as the night progressed she started to become more aggressive dancing closer, placing her hands on my ass, and doing other seductive activities. I was just sober enough to realize that this probably wasn't good wedding etiquette to pull away and keep the dancing clean.

That message however did not get to our young protagonist Arthur. For those who do not know RTJ, he is a man of much talk and occassional action. After about 8 drinks Arthur takes himself as a regular Casa Nova, and lets everyone know he is better at getting with the ladies than you. Occassionally Arthur strikes gold with his methods, and on this night he found a young lady in a white summer dress who seemed ripe for the picking (aka she was the drunkest person at the party). RTJ in spite of claiming he was going to get the girl that took a liking to me, took this young lady into his semi-capable arms and put a spell on her. By two dances, RTJ decided he was going to spend the night with this girl. Rather than thinking out the logistics of how he was going to get home and to the Mariners game the following morning, while his friends drove home his parent's mini-van to his house without him. RTJ threw his keys to me so he could satisfy more anamalistic needs. After a bit of making out on and off the dance floor the rest of the crew assembled and decided that they were going to ditch RTJ and leave the wedding.

I begged for RTJ's logistical needs. "We are in his Dad's mini-van for crying out loud? I certainly don't want to drive 40 minutes south to pick him up before the mariner game. Plus who knows how long this thing is going to last?" This was also a selfish attempt to leave my options open with the girl who had taken a liking to me. Over half of the crew agreed to stay and wait for this to pan out. Brett was very much against it, although he was not any more logical, as he pined to go to Seattle and drink at some clubs. Fortunately we stayed because the last few songs were good, including the greatest song to be played at any wedding SHOUT! Some idiot kept on crying for one more song, and after an overextended encore we played the waiting game. Trying to coordinate a caravan to the hotel afterparty. Unfortunately, the maid of honor played a huge cock block on our protagonist and said we could not come. To make matters worse he made RTJ's blacked out love interest deliver the news.

Luckily prior to this we jacked a magnum (huge) bottle of Champagne and we were still ready to party. Obliterated and obnoxious we all made cases for what to do. Fortunately my voice was the loudest, if not most logical and we got my wish to go back to J.J. Mahoney's in Redmond so we could maintain an atmosphere of hanging out with each other, within a reasonable distance of sleeping quarters and our shit. During this whole debate of what to do, RTJ complains about how we were preventing him from getting laid. He tried to drag me in multiple times saying that Me and Irish could have gotten some. It sounded pathetic, like the middle schooler in Dazed and Confused complaining to his friends that he was "getting there". Regardless he didn't stop complaining and we did not stop telling him to shut up and get over it. We listened to a few bad rap songs along the way and finally arrived in Redmond where we cracked our bottle of Champagne and took pulls in the parking lot.

We must have looked like a shit show walking in in full sweaty wedding garb, haggard from drinking and dancing. We were passing out over our ramblings at the bar. We barely finished our two pitchers that we ordered, and then in similar style to last night we dropped off at Jack in the Box to order some munchies. I got two breakfast jacks and smothered them in hot sauce. We got in at about 2:30 and found our separate corners to pass out.

All in all, another great night.

On the 3rd Right take a Left!? (The Emerald City Epic: Part 1)

2006-08-28T20:28:00.000-07:00

The next few journals are going to be in a little different style. It will be more of a diary style format to recount my adventures in Seattle this past weekend. Please note that all of the events that are being told are through my eyes. These eyes were heavily blurred by Coors Light, champagne, spicy and fried food, and red wine. I would say that this story is at best 85% truth. But as they said in my World Civ class, history is written by the victorious, and without a doubt I won the party this weekend.

A little over a month ago shortly after I broke my sternum, I wrote a blog about my shitty situation. Immediately after my injury I had to make a decision if I would be able to play in the Labor Day tournnament in San Francisco. I did some research on recovery, and all signs pointed to over 6 weeks for the bone to heal. A rebreak didn't sound too appealing so I decided to opt out of the Labor Day tournament. I briefly sulked about missing top level ultimate competition, but when I saw a flight special to Seattle I perked up immediately and gave my buddy Dave a a call. "Dave, when do you get back from your business trip?" "The 25th why?" "I'm thinking of flying to Seattle and I want to stay with you." "Come on the 26th it's Zach's wedding!"

Zach was our RA from Freshman year of college. To say he was a mild influence on our lives was perhaps one of the greatest understatements I could make. He rivaled our immaturity, our akwardness with women, and our love for comics and videogames. Most people despised their RA and avoided them at all costs. We piled on top of each other to watch movies in his room, included him in our idiotic tales, and made him honorary captain of our destructive hall activities. Zach more than anything defined our Freshman year, (except for beer of course). Because of Zach I became an RA, which naturally transformed my leadership approach throughout college. Without his influence there is no way I would be living as sweet as I am today.

So I booked a flight for Zach's wedding and kept my travels secret from my friends. My hope is that they would show up anyway and I would suprise them at the wedding. After about a week I figured that was a stupid idea so I began to tell everyone of my travels in hopes of making it an ultimate reunion/party weekend. Much to my delight people were making plans to meet me in Seattle and before I knew it my weekend was jam packed with meetings and activities.

My flight was pretty normal, I arrived at the airport uncertain of how much time I would need because of the new security measures. I ended up parking about as far as one could possibly park from the airport and still have to walk. I ran to the terminal unsure of my status, I stood in line for 15 minutes before I realized there was an empty self check in station behind the mob. How someone in this age of technology is incapable of self check in still boggles my mind. When I arrived at security the wait wasn't long but I was pulled aside for a special screening. In the "Random Screening Line" there were two black business men, a man of arab descent, two asian women, a latina woman, and me. As I looked across to the normal screening I counted one other non-white person in total. I guess I was selected to make it appear like it wasn't blatent racism, but it could have also been because I am Irish, and we do have a history of blowing up things and going crazy. I managed to get through security and the rest of my Frontier experience was flawless. Big ups to Frontier! (I guess it wasn't perfect because the guy next to me watched the same two movie previews with his headphones on full blast for the duration of the flight. Without ever watching The Ballad of Ricky Bobby, or Invincible I can recite the previews word for word.)

I met Dave in the Airport in Seattle and it was as if we didn't skip a beat. It's comforting that there are friends in life that you don't have that problem with. Arthur (aka RTJ) picked us up, greeting us with his Saturn and ghetto rap beats. Fortunately he was wearing his glasses and we made it to Dave's apartment safely. The plan was to stay at Dave's and party in Seattle for the first night. Dave lived in an apartment in downtown Seattle, but while he was gone they were rewiring his floor. As a result they upgraded him to a fully furnished double to stay in the interim. Unfortunately, the management blew ass and forgot to move him. In fact they stuck someone else in the room he was supposed to live in. When we went to address the problem all we were given was an inempt and impotent security guard. He referred us to a handyman who broke us into a new room, but it was just a studio apartment that completely sucked ass. After a long deliberation we decided it was best to spend the night at RTJ's house in Redmond. Redmond for all of you non Washington folk is home of Microsoft. In my head I always imagined it to be just like Highlands Ranch. In reality Redmond turned out to be a little more quaint and less generic. It didn't have as many chains, but it was even more sheltered with a shittier night life than HR. I guess I would compare it more to Castle Rock with a mega technology corporation.

The major problem of the evening is that RTJ is not a regular honing pigeon when it comes to directions. Upon leaving Seattle RTJ turned the wrong way on a one-way street. Which was made infinitely worse when our two cars caravaning behind him made the same turn. Fortunately we made it out unscathed, but we were seperated and had to depend on Arthur on directions. Dave and I mixed our catch up time about career plans with half witted pieces of directions with Arthur over the phone. After a couple of attempts to get in Redmond we spent literally 20 minutes roaming around looking for our Rondezvous point. One of the best directions from the evening was take a right on 166th and on the 3rd Right take a Left. We spent roughly 10 minutes looking for a movie theater or 83rd street, which turned out to be 87th street. To be fair neither party asked for directions so we are both morons, but you would think that someone would know the cross streets of the only bar in their fucking town.

The bar was J.J. Mahoney's an "Irish" pub where the most authentic Irish thing in there arrived in Seattle earlier that evening. It was an incredibly sterile place that only served premium beers, but they served Alcohol and because of that I could not complain. With us at the pub was Dan escorted by his girlfriend Paris. Dan is one of my abseloute best friends from school. Perhaps someone I spent more time talking to than any other because of our long road trips from frisbee. We share a love of Ultimate, indie movies, indie music, PBR, early 90's basketball, SEGA Genesis, mindless bickering, and making fun of the exploits of our moronic friends and each other. We are two regular hipsters go dorky with absolutley none of the hip or trendy fashion sense. It was great to hang out with him, and as per usual we both got significantly more wasted and loud that the other patrons.

Later in the evening our friends from Spokane arrived. This included Matt Ross (FIFA Rival, Fellow RA, and Good Guy Extrodinare), Brett (Official videographer, Outrageous drunkard, and token Asian), Gil (king of the double fisting, unexpected insight, and Gil like behavior), and Larry (Master Racist, artist, and recent bachelor). They joined us and as the night drew on the tales got longer, louder, and better. At this moment I was content.

Except I needed food, so we made a stop off at QFC where we picked up a 18 pack of C- (aka CL Smooths), 20 taquitos, and 16 Corn Dogs. We managed to cook them without burning down the house and between the 7 of us devoured everything, while watching 3 Ninja's. A movie that did not age as well as we hoped, even with the influence of over a dozen beers. Which also brings to mind what the hell was Rocky thinking with Emily, she was defintely not hot in any sense of the word. If you can dunk from the free throw line you think you could bag a girl that weighed less than you.

The night ended with a passed out Brett giving a BJ to a Corn Dog. You could say it was a good night.

Tomorrow Part 2

MTV Killed the Video Star

2006-08-20T21:30:00.000-07:00

I'm For: T minus 6 days until I am in Seattle, Pete Coors owning half of Colorado resulting in lots of cool free stuff for me, and my new Le Coq Sportif shoes.

I'm Against: Sharing half of the romance genes of my father (he took my mom to TGI Friday's for their 35th anniversary), charity events that don't have real good food, paying 178 dollars so I can roll up my window, and the popping sound that my sternum makes every once in a while.

Everytime I turn on the television MTV is reminding me to watch their VMA's. The VMA's apparently stand for Video Music Awards, which is news to me because I was not aware the MTV still played music videos. The last time I watched a string of multiple music videos played in their entirity on MTV was two summers ago at 1 am Mountain time. The artform of the music video is dying and pretty soon the only place we will be able to see them is in anthropology classes. In fact I would have said that Music Videos no longer existed but according to the VMA's they do.

MTV for those of you too young to remember, MTV once had a mission of provided non-stop music entertainment to the masses. For many years MTV struggled to gain presence on cable packages and was only seen in packets of the country. In the late 80's and early 90's MTV became a legitimate network and brought rock, hip hop, and other popular music forms to the nation. It changed the cultural landscape of suburban and rural populations and at the time was as legitimate and real as TV got. It was about that time that MTV began experimenting with its formula and bringing other programming that was loosely tied to music. This included game shows, news, and interviews with artists. It was during this experimentation that MTV pioneered a new form of entertainment called "Reality Television." The Real World started in New York as a response to the abundance of family oriented sitcoms and soap operas. MTV proclaimed that sitcoms were not real, the characters don't represent our market, and their problems are oversimplified. They answered with a show where they stuck 7 different people from their demographic into a house and see how they dealt with each other and problems in the "Real World."

At the time The Real World was groundbreaking television and as "real" as TV could get. There were some flaws. Most of the people in the first show already lived in New York so there wasn't much culture shock. The people were mostly well educated individuals and fit sterotypes of the demographic that they "represented." But, they still had to get their own jobs and deal with living in a house with different roommates and personalities. People yelled at each other for staying up until 3:00 and not doing dishes. They forced in some issues like racism and sexuality here and there, but even today I could identify with that season. Plus 3 of the 7 roommates were actively pursuing music careers so the show still had to do albeit loosely "with music culture."

Over the next several years the Real World really shaped my understanding of reality. I was watching the show habitually by the time I was 9 years old. My first real encounters with AIDS, Racism, Homosexuality, Alcoholism and Drugs were through watching the Real World. Simply put, I would have not been exposed to those issues at least until high school living in the suburbs. After about season 4 MTV's ego began to destroy the network. They struck gold with a new "Artform" in reality television and they began to manipulate their new best form of programming. They started to make the casts more formulaic and pursue crazier people with the most absurd life stories. They started to give the casts jobs, free alcohol, and outlandish vacations to build more dramatic storylines. They even began to show their casting process to show the world what it takes to be a member of the "Real World."

A modern typical cast member has to fit a certain criteria. Be incredibly good looking, about one "abnormal looking" person is accepted per season but they have to have a whole bevy of redeeming qualities to make up for that deficency. They have to be well spoken for the demographic they represent. This does not necissarily mean smart, but articulate with their feelings and views. They need to have an incredible life changing story. Examples are their parents abused them, they were raped, somebody important in their life died, they had/have an eating disorder, they shit their pants during a date whatever it is it must drive you to tears at some point. They have to be superpassionate about or disagree with a major political issue. Finally they must embody a demographic of the MTV market. The typica 7 that seem to be popular these days are: Someone from the Northeast (Boston/New York/Philly) with an attitude, A southern bimbo/debutant, a laid back west coaster, a frat boy or sorority girl, someone black or at some point oppressed, a homosexual, and a braniac that has attended an ivy league or equally prestigious school. Now they are throwing in some wildcards like outright crazy or doing hybrid people who fit more than one criteria, but this is still the basic formula. Now everybody who is anybody wants to be famous and on the real world. It is statisically 50x easier to get into Harvard than to make the Real World Cast.

The result of this formulation and manipulation is that the Real World no longer resembles anything near reality. The most recent season was filmed in Denver and from what I saw of the filming process the show is completely staged. I was in a bar drinking after a frisbee practice when the Real World stopped by . The cameras showed up 30 minutes beforehand to scope out and get action shots of the place. The producers were telling people what to do to make interesting television. The gay guy made out with like 6 different dudes, and a triple kiss with two guys and a girl broke out. Shortly after someone got in a fight the bar was cleared out. The cast members were dressed like they were in West Holywood not Denver, and pretty much just made the biggest scene possible. They were all drunk off their ass and non-stop obnoxious.

Now all of MTV's programs closely mirror "REALITY." The television station makes no claims to live up to its name "Music Television." In fact they have created new cable franchises to fill the void of their music-less motherstation. The sad thing is that they have killed an artform that actually enhanced the enjoyability of music to some degree. It's hard for me to really get behind a band these days because I have pursue all of the exposure. I have to actively find new music on my own and even if I do listen to a new band it's hard to become loyal to them. There is only so much likability that you can get from listening to a CD time and time again.

Music Videos gave bands a special opportunity to connect with their fans in a relavent way. They could give a glimpse of their stage personality and live show in scenes playing "live without an audience." Sometimes this was corny and have us watching bands playing in obscure locations like on a ship, on top of a building, or in an abandoned warehouse. But, it gave you a real opportunity to see what a band was like and enhance your connection with them. Today I would be curious to see how The Shins, The Racontours, or Wolfmother want their music to be percieved visually. I might be more inclined to see these bands in concert because of their videos, or read their websites. Instead I listen to their music occassionally, and forget about them when I am not.

These bands might have videos but I wouldn't know. The only thing I see when I turn on MTV is an abundence of crappy reality television. Even MTV's marquee music programming "TRL" doesn't feature full videos. In a sixty minute show there is less than 10 minutes of actual music videos show inbetween innane annoucers and kids screaming. Even if I did like the kind of music that the masses request, I would be lucky to see a full minute of my favorite video.

There is a solution to this problem, I have re-discovered some music videos through the miracle of YouTube.com. I have been able to watch a bunch of my favorite videos from the past. Mostly Guns N' Roses epic music videos from before my time. I even discovered some new music videos that were truly innovative. In particular, I recommend Jurassic 5's "We Know" video which features breakdancing mascots http://youtube.com/watch?v=e0Fifym6s5E, and OK Go's treadmill choreography. http://youtube.com/watch?v=pv5zWaTEVkI

MTV's innovation of Reality Television essentially killed the sugarcoated storlines of sitcoms and family programming. Could youtube be the death of MTV's over-inflated "REALITY" if it isn't, something else needs to come along to kill this indulgent beast.

Funny Guy

2006-08-19T08:57:00.000-07:00

I'm For: Red Hot Chili Peppers, rediscovering music videos through youtube, baratsandbereta.com (plug), and my job.

I'm Against: The Mars Volta, nearly forgetting music videos existed because of MTV, not getting a chance to hang out with friends while they are in the same state, getting my car repaired in the ghetto, and being the "funny guy" at work.

It's my second day at work, I have no idea what is going on and I am running around like a deer in headlights. I get a call from one of my supervisors requesting that I help set up for a meeting. On the way to the meeting I run into my boss. He says whats up and wants to introduce me to someone he calls the Duke/The Nuge. I was a bit confused, but I figured he was important so I focused on saying my name clearly and putting out a firm handshake. I entered into a room of about 6 guys talking and my boss introduced me to the "Duke."My boss said Blah BlahNugen this is our new AAE Brian McCarthy. Going through my head was the last episode of VH1's "Supergroup" which featured Ted Nugent of Cat Scratch Fever fame. All of a sudden eyes focused on me and I knew I was supposed to say anything. Before I could get my head around to switching tracks I had already said "TED? TED NUGENT?" "No, Marc" he responded quizzically. I left not knowing what had just transgressed.

About a minute later my boss came up to me and in disbelief asked "Ted? where the fuck did you get that one?" "I was thinking of Ted Nugent, you said something about Nugent!" I proclaimed in defense."No, Marc DucNugeen thats our Executive Vice President, and you just called him Ted Nugent!"

Fortunately Mr. DucNugeen has a good sense of humor, and my nickname at work has been Ted ever since. I had a meeting with Mr. DucNugeen about two weeks ago, he was just checking up how my first couple of months have been and how they could improve the orientation process. After a little bit of formal chit chat he asked me if I was going to do anything for the company talent show known as the Creative Circus. Well I said, I wanted to do some improv comedy or a lip sync with a group of people but I didn't really know anyone to do it with at this stage. He told me if you have something you gotta do it, there is no better way to make a name for yourself then at the Creative Circus.

So I signed up to do some stand up comedy, it would be my 6th stand up appearance ever. This time the stakes were a little higher. The audience was going to be about 400 people, all of whom I would see in the next week. An inappropriate joke or a crash and burn could lead to a lot of long term embarassment which would make this whole Ted thing seem petty. One thing I do have above are balls the size of Cleavland when it comes to getting in front of people to do something. So just two months after my employment date I decided to get in front of my entire company and attempt to be funny. Stand up comedy is not like a lip sync or a skit or even karoke. You don't win many points or laughs by being bad. Like if your bad at karoke or your skit is corny that can still be funny and everyone can laugh. But if you have plotted and scripted jokes and they aren't funny, you're in a world of shit. So I was a bit nervous to say the least going into my performance.

The show started off with a couple VP's simulating playing the piano with their junk. I know that act has been done somewhere before, although I am not sure where. They were followed by some other skits with blatent sex, marijuana, and alcohol abuse references. Several of which were taken from SNL, Hee Haw, and other comedy shows.

After an intermission I performed. My routiene was pretty basic, crack some jokes about how old everyone else was in comparisson to me. Following that I did a bit about technology. I talked about going down on my Nintendo, the power of the "JK" just kidding, and my myspace and facebook russian conspiracy theory. My performance went well, I had pretty decent delivery I got a couple of good laughs and threw in some off the cuff stuff. I think that the free Coors probably had as much to do with the laughs I got as my writing did.

Afterwords, I was mobbed. Everyone was coming up to me and congratulating me and saying it was outstanding. People told me to screw my job and go on tour, or to perform at their favorite comedy club downtown. My bosses were all giving me pats on the back and telling me I had balls of steel. I tried to be as humble as possible and deflect the attention initially but pretty soon it got to my head and I started dancing along to karoke performances and acting like I was the shit. Anyone who has seen me dance knows that my dancing may not necissarily be "corporate friendly" especially when they are playing the soundtrack to the Full Monty.

After the beer wore off I drove home and laughed a little bit about what I did. Mostly I was just happy it was over. The next day at work I had become something of a celebrity. People were walking by my cube quoting my comedy. A couple people threw out the phrase JK in a meeting I attended. I got invited to a BBQ by my boss and he invited me to sit club level to the Red Hot Chili Peppers. Human resources gave me tickets to a charity dinner that had a value of $130. I am not sure how long this lasts, but I am pretty excited so far.

Before I leave some thoughts on the concert. The Mars Volta opened for the Chili Peppers, I had a couple friends who mentioned them before so I figured there was some potential. Unfortunately it was one of the worst live acts I have ever seen. If asked to describe their music I would say a jam band song structure with punk level instrumental skills. In otherwords it was a lot of distortion, screaming, and noise with songs that had no structure lasting over 10 minutes each. It was like James Brown, The Doors, Jethro Tull, Greatful Dead, and the Sex Pistols all had an orgy and created a fucked up baby. I am not sure how much acid you would have to drop to make them sound good but my guess is you would probably die before you reached that level.

The Chili Peppers on the other hand, were a great live band. Anthony Kiedis is one of the few lead vocalists that acutally sounds better live then he does on CD. John Friscante (guitar) was abseloutely incredible in spite of coming off like a bug in interviews as a result of his heorin addiciton. Flea is just crazy awesome, and the only guy who can wear a pink leopard unitard and pull it off. Chad Smith abseloutely pounded the shit out of the drums and bears a crazy resemblence to Will Ferrell. I have never been particularly impressed with the Chili Pepper on CD, but they are a great live band. Tons of energy and they produce a really great sound. They really benefitted from music videos because they found a way to translate the energy of their live performances into their videos in compelling and innovative ways. They made an arena with only sitting room rock, and that is a pretty sweet accomplishment.

The Good Ol' Days

2006-08-13T20:20:00.000-07:00

I'm For: People coming to Denver to visit, high school Ultimate studs going to Gonzaga, Baseball Beer and Americana, performing stand-up in the company talent show.

I'm Against: Doing my own laundry, struggling to find time to coach high school, my prolific use of the F-bomb in my last blog, and writing corporate friendly comedy.

This weekend I took in two games of baseball at Denver's finest facility COORS field. Considering the stadium is named after the company I advertise for, I was able to score some cheap tickets through work and take some buddies out to see some baseball. The series featured the Cubs which is not only my favorite team, but the best draw in the country bringing out almost as many Cubbies fans as Rockies fans. At times you couldn't tell which team made a play because the crowd reaction was split down the middle.

Although I am not a huge baseball fan and I don't follow the sport regularly, I do enjoy taking in the games live. For one tickets are affordable as far as sports go and it is a sport that you don't have to pay much attention to. You can spend as much time talking to your friend as watching the action and you can still follow the game. Because of these features I decided its pretty much a perfect place for one of your first dates. You can talk, but if things are not going well there is still a sport going on and beer to be drank. Normally I would cheer for the Cubs, but since they are terrible and traded all of the players I actually care about I was rooting for the Rockies as they still have an outside shot of making the playoffs. The Rockies won two out of the three games and like normal Rockies games there was a lot of scoring a few home runs and many good times. I had my beer, peanuts, hot dogs, singing, and baseball to get my fill of Americana for a while.

The baseball was fun but what was far more interesting was what happened between baseball games. I was planning to stay the night downtown, I didn't have a solid plan but between a few friends and my brother I figured I would find a place to pass out. I was pretty excited, up to this point I have not experienced too much of the Denver night life.

As soon as the game ended shit started to hit the fan, my good friend Justin was tired from watching the International (Golf Tournament) earlier in the day and went home to crash. Then Sean my other good buddy left to get some dinner with his girlfriends parents. So I was left with his three friends. Now the best way to describe these dudes were distant acquaintences. I knew all of them from high school. Two of them were twins who I was pretty sure dealt and did hard drugs in middle school. The other guy was in Band but I am pretty sure I never said a word to him before that night. They were alright guys, we played some darts but not dudes that I was too excited to hang with. So I decided to make an early exit and give my brother a call.

Except my brother was at his 10 year high school reunion. He told me I could pick up my keys from him at the bar. I made my way down, and at this point he had hyped me up so much as a comedian that I pretty much became center stage as soon as I walked into the place. I have no problem being the center of attention or crashing reunions. (This was my third on record after a stint of two reunions for Ferris High School in Spokane. One of which I successfully convinced a woman I was Kevin from Biology class.) These reunion folk were either very drunk or desperate because within minutes I had a few women hitting on me pretty hard. I am not saying this to brag either, it may surprise you but a tall drink of Perrier like myself isn't normally approached by women at the bars. But it was as if my brother had religously proclaimed I had a ten inch penis.

It was great being in a situation where I was known, but nobody really knew anything about me. I could completely be myself without any sterotypes or negative preconcieved judgements. At the end of the night my brother said the most popular girl from middle school legitimately wanted to sleep with me. Granted she was probably crazy as she listed her favorite high school memory as meeting her biological mother, but she was legitimately hot and wanted to have sex with me even though I was 7 years younger and still lived with my parents. This experience made me think about high school, and my chances of repeating this success at my 10 year reunion.

I have pretty mixed feelings about my high school experience. There were some aspects that made me absolutely miserable, and some things that were awesome and developed me into the personality I have today. The defining line between these two experiences were the people that surrounded me. In the experiences that I was miserable I was for the most part surrounded by people who judged me and were obsorbed with being cool or "the shit" to use the parlance of the times. For the most part these were the times that I was hanging out with players on the soccer team and other "semi-popular" crowds that I was loosely connected with. During these times I felt pressured to not be myself because people would unnecissarly cut me down call me gay or stupid for just trying to be stupid or lighthearted and have a good time. Granted I say some outrageous crap and I am willing to take my fair share of shit from people, but I took it constantly and it turned violent. People injured me and made me feel like shit. It was a situation where people expected me to fail rather than succeed, and as a result I took a mentality where I feared failure and did not strive or expect success.

I am not huge on quotes but there is one on a poster at my company by Henry David Thereau that reads "Humans are built for Success, not failure." That is an awesome mentality to have especially for sports, and at the time I didn't have it. A lot of it had to do with those people. Thank God I had other outlets that allowed me to be successful otherwise I would probably be in a complete hole today. For me those activities were honors classes, knowledge bowl, and band. Truth be told they are super geeky activities, but in those situations the people allowed me to have a personality. They didn't care if I laughed like a hyena, dressed like a colorblind 11 year old, or danced like a grandmother in heat. They laughed with me during all of the akward high school moments. Their welcoming mentality allowed me to thrive and become a badass amongst the nerds.

Highlands Ranch was a shitty place to be a nerd, one day we had an academic assembly to recognize the accomplishments of non-athletes. Instead of the pep band playing they had the orchestra perform. Instead of introducing the starting lineup for the football team they had knowledge bowl, DECA, and other clubs recognized. At the assembly, a kid threw a battery at someone in the orchestra while they were playing and fucked up her $5,ooo violen, had I known this happened I assure you I would have gone up and called that kid out and beaten his ass. The fact of the matter is in Highlands Ranch even if you were a part of these clubs you denied it because it was social suicide.

That's terrible, and it shouldn't be the case. The only time I truly let loose and had fun was when I was surrounded by people who cared more about who I was than what I did. I thrived because of knowledge bowl and pep band and to this day I do as much well rounded shit as possible because it keeps you balanced in your perspective on life.

So go ahead embrace your inner geek, I think thats the key to my happiness.

Helter Skelter

2006-08-11T20:09:00.000-07:00

I'm For: My new X-box 360, my parents in London for a week, the Zags sweet recruiting classes for the next three years, Watching 2 out of 3 Rockies v Cubs games this weekend

I'm Against: My Shitty TV not featuring the full graphics of X-box 360, Britain to U.S. travel scares, Zags lack of depth the first half of next season, no bitches.

The terrorists have won again. They have fucked up our minds, our travel plans, and our color coded terrorist alert system. While we freak out about our maximum security Periwinkle alert, the terrorists get to sit back and watch/read our overreactions.

It's an unfair bullshit system, they can strike anywhere and any time without regard to target, objective or scale and they win. They don't even have to be successful, all they have to do is look like they are going to do something and within hours the entire country will be inundated with articles and news stories from every possible source. In turn every possible government source is going to get involved to "FIGHT TERRORISM." The result is we have a bunch of armed people at our airports with no clear objectives, hassling people to look busy for their superiors and our "security."

Yes I realize that we have to do something if people were trying to walk on planes and blow them up with liquid explosives. However, hassling moms in Kansas about their kids apple juice and pearberry lotion from bath and body works is probably not the best way to do it. I can understand if you ask me, a single male to get rid of my contact solution, but a fucking mom with a two year old isn't exactly terrorist material. This is America's way we find out something could have happened to us and we create paranoia for ourselves. The thing is that this war against Terrorism is fucked up, but I went to Gonzaga so of course I have a solution.

The best solution would have been to not fuck with the crazy ass motherfuckers in the first place. Their whole reason they are fucking with us is because we have been fucking with their way of life for decades. We provide Israel with bombs, we aid coups for "more pro freedom/democracy" dictators. People in the middle east keep on getting fucked and they want some kind of revenge to let us know how it feels. Do I agree with their methods? Hell no, these people are crazy and fucked up, but in actuality it probably isn't that different than what has been happening to them for most of their lives, which our government is in some way responsible. So now what do we do now?

I propose the little brother act of tolerence. It's a brilliant battle strategy that mom's and dad's everywhere employ. What is it you ask?
--Remember when you were in the back seat of the car and your brother or sister started to poke or hit you. At first you wanted no part of it, but eventually you got pissed off and hit him back. Somebody ended up crying and telling mom. This is exactly what they wanted, mom would tell you to pipe down but moments later they would be back with another assult. After you complain again, Mom shouts, "JUST IGNORE HIM, YOUR THE OLDER ONE ACT LIKE IT!" At first you don't listen and continue to fight back. After a while though you take her advice, he pokes you a few more times but when he realizes he's not getting a rise out of you or anyone else he stops and finds something else to do.

I propose America adopts the policy of Little Brother Act of Tolerence.
--It won't be easy and there will be casualties but I think if we really stick to it we can get rid of this fucking terrorist problem. It all starts with the media, we cannot overreact to anything. If we ignore or barely pay attention to any acts/potential acts of terrorism the terrorists will not know how they are doing. They have no intelligence, all their intelligence dies on suicide missions or gets arrested. The only way they can gauge the effectiveness of thier "attacks" is through our reaction through the media. If we simply ignore their acts/threats then they will eventually get tired of plotting with no glory and move on.

This will not be easy and their probably will be a few casualties, but only a few. If we still have the same military intelligence and counterterrorism efforts without all the bells and whistles there probably won't be too many successful strikes. Even if they have one or two, Air Travel is still pretty safe. Think about the ratio of people dying on airplanes compared to car accidents. Even with 9/11 the total of Flight Related Deaths is dwarfed by the number of auto-related deaths each year. There are terrorists everywhere in the form of drunk drivers, murderers, and rapists, those are far more prevalent then people trying to blow up your plane. The only way these things win is by ruining our lives with paranoia. Most of that is due to our media. The local news is full of this shit every day, yes it is good to know that it happens but do you think the media actually cares or does anything to stop these horrible acts? Nope, they just capitalize on our fear and paranoia.

Get rid of the media and paranoia and we have won half of the battle. Terrorism sucks, but so does not living a free life because of fear. Bush is going to take credit for saving the people who love freedom, meanwhile his congress will pass more laws to restrict our liberty.

They win either way, I say we lose my way.

Whose Really Cheating?

2006-08-01T20:44:00.000-07:00

I'm For: U2's Joshua Tree (the greatest 50 minutes in Moderate Rock history), Inspirational Speeches from superiors, drinking beer at work on a Monday, and Chuck Klosterman author of Killing Yourself to Live the book I selected.

I'm Against: Matchbox 20 (the most mediocre "Rock" band in history) Unorganized ramblings from superiors based on half-thoughts, the pain in my torso that occurs while checking my blind spot, and the lack of response to my request for authors.

Long live cheaters! Bring me your dopers, your steriod users, your EPO pumpers, and your body chemists!

That is precisely what the media is doing to professional athletics. Every time a sports columnists brings out his jukebox and bags on Cycling, Track and Field, and the athletes that participate them they are in effect encouraging more people to cheat. Its an ass backwards way of thinking, but hear me out.

Floyd Landis and Justin Gatlin have made recent headlines about their individual doping scandles and all the media have come out to criticize them and their respective sports. Many pundits have been quick to point out the dirty past of Track and Field and Cycling bringing out laundry lists of top athletes that were guilty of failing drug tests. This is where the media is wrong, Cycling and Track and Field are not the ones with the dirty past and doping scandles, they are just the only ones that are making a real effort to find the cheaters. Prior to this years Tour two of the favorites were disqualified from the race as a result of doping problems. After the race they actually investigated the "miracle" performance that was a difference maker in the final result. Track and Field has had similar situations, investigating former champions and stripping medals and records as a result of drug tests. These sports should be praised for actually making an effort to removing drug use from the sport by punishing the people who it makes a difference for, the sports top performers.

They most certainly are not doing that in the professional leagues in the States. Where the only people who are getting punished for failed drug tests are third rate players and minor leaguers. If Todd Saubreun the PUNTER for the Denver Broncos is the only person who is using roids in the NFL you can go ahead and shrink my testicles to his size, because there is no way in hell that is true. In fact I would garuntee he is not even the only guy on his special teams line that is using roids.

A better question to ask is who in the major professional sports leagues is not using illegal performance enhancing drugs? Let's face it we are producing a lot of 6'3 250+ lb dudes in this country that can run a sub 4.7 second 40. I am 6'1 170lbs and in excellent shape and I have never been able to run a 4.7 second 40. I am not an extrodinary athelete but I should not be outrun by 300 pound men.

Lets face it, sports are becoming as much about body chemistry and training techniques as they are about natural talent and practice. People are using just about every resource available to them to maximize their bodies to gain any hint of an advantage over their opponents. Everybody is using performance enhancing drugs its just a difference of degree.

Every time I play an Ultimate Frisbee Tournament I alter my body chemistry by intaking unnatural amounts of sodium and potassium through pickle juice, and double the recommended dosages of Ibueprofin. This reduces my pain and thins my blood and increases the amount of water my body can retain to reduce muscle fatigue and cramps. Is this dangerous? If I did it frequently enough yes. But its a risk that I will take to compete.

My body chemistry alterations are minor compared to higher level atheletes. Its just an example to show that highly competitive athletes at ALL levels are chemically altering their bodys to enhance performance. It is a difference in kind beteween protein shakes and vitamins, creatine and supplements, and straight up steroids and illegal hormones; its a difference in degree. They all have the same purpose to make you bigger, faster, and stronger. The difference is that the former are more available, less risky, and legal and the later are less accessible, more risk, and illegal.

I do not have any statistics or real evidence to support the claims that I am making, because they do not exist, or at least are not available to me. However, I do have my intuition, stories from people who are trying to make it in the minor leagues, and the reports I have recieved from the media. It is safe to say that the majority of professional athletes are more aligned with the fuzzy line towards illegal performance enhancing drug use than the legal side.

If people in the Reserve Division of Major League Soccer and Short Season Rookie Baseball are using steroids to get to the next level, you have to believe that there are a significant number of players who are using them at the top level. Professonal sports is one of the most competitive job markets around where talent is often subjective that any tangible evidence like speed, strength, or leaping ability can be the difference maker. We might like to give people the benefit of the doubt, but if its the difference between making 6 or 7 figures at the top level or quitting a sport that you have dedicated your entire life to, a lot of people will turn to illegal enhancements.

We are rewarding athletes for being bigger and stronger while maintaining quickness, speed, and health. We do not put a whole lot of value on being athletes of integrity, because there aren't any signing bonues for that. You won't see a clause for athletes who don't take performance enhancing drugs, but you will see a clause for hitting 40 or 50 home runs. If our incentives are based on superhuman levels of performance, you are going to have athletes turning to inhuman means of attaining those incentives.

Right now the media cries foul at Cycling and Track, but the way I see it those are the only sports that should be praised. Because as long as we lecture Cycling for being dirty, the NFL, NBA, and MLB are going to keep their skeletons in the closet. Sure they will throw out a name that we may have heard of here or there to make it look like they are testing. Meanwhile they will keep on reaping in the big bucks as we watch their juiced athletes break records.

After all, all of the best cheaters are in business.

With a Little Help From My Friends...

2006-07-30T12:44:00.000-07:00

I'm For: The Darkness's new album (It's like Queen reincarnated with a sense of humor), half days at work, good books (I'm taking suggestions, please post comments), my sense of humor between 4.5 and 6.25 drinks.

I'm Against: My still broken sternum, vodka red bulls, hangovers that last into the late afternoon, my blogs that ramble on too long, trying to coordinate social gatherings, and hippies

On the way back from studying in mid march I recieved a text message that read: "Hey it's Caroline from your childhood, I have decided to live an amoral life. Bye."

At this point I had not spoken to Caroline for nearly three years, I had no idea how she had gotten my cell phone number or why she had chosen to reveal her new life philosophy to me in this manner. I called her back to try to put this revelation into some kind of context, but she did not answer and never returned my call.

I have always taken great pride in my selection of friends. I view all of my friends as far above average people for their qualities and talents: weather it be an undying loyality, great taste in movies, supurb listening skills, videogaming talents, or just that indescribable "it." As a result of my keen eye for friendship talent I have been graced with an increidbly diverse company that constantly inspire me to become a better person than I was the day before. By the same token I come off as kind of a judgemental to those people who don't understand mycriteria.

You can experience some of the talent of my friends by clicking on the links on the right side of the page. If you want your shit added go ahead and put in a request, go ahead beg I like the power.

Caroline is no exception, she has always been incredibly bright and talented with a magnetic charm that radiates from her. The first time she spoke to me in middle school she condescendingly uttered "At least you match." This comment was directed to my style that I was rocking at the time, soccer warm ups with adidas memorabilia. Even though the comment was rediculous, I was pretty taken aback that one of the more popular girls in my class had taken interest in my style and in the next month I was decked out in Tommy Hilfiger and Courdorys. In spite of her posh popular stylings, Cari had a total individualistic flair and took over every room she entered with her bouyant personality. So when I had recieved the text message regarding her new moral worldview I was a little shocked, but not entirely surprised.

My updates of Cari over the last several years were bits and pieces of secondhand information that I recieved from old friends. She got into Stanford for academic merit, only to be kicked out for getting drunk one night and trying to burn her dorm down. (I told you my friends were unique, how many people get into Stanford let alone kicked out?) After getting kicked out she worked in Lake Tahoe extorting money to go on a whirlwind trip throughout SouthEast Asia. With a stint as a stripper in Australia. When she got back to the states she had turned into an enlightened hippie living in a commune in Berkeley. All of it was a little too much to believe, the story of Cari had become a legend at the level of Paul Bunyon and I was not quite ready to believe it.

So when she called me last and demanded my address to come pick me up and hang out for a drink, I had to take the opportunity. She showed up at my door full of the energy that I fell in love with in 7th grade. After a short display of some avante garde martial arts she greeted me with an enthusiastic hug. She looked as if she was auditioning for a broadway production of Hair. She wore a headwrap that gave her darkened hair a playful look. Her face had a self drawn star on the right cheek which was the only shred of makup that graced her remarkably beautiful face. The rest of her outfit was dirt brown from head to ankle, because of course she wasn't wearing any shoes. She unabashedly wore a tank top revealing her authentic hippie pit hair, which I struggled to avoid eye contact with for the remainder of the night.

Within seconds she opened up to me as as if we had talked every day over the last three years. She quickly confirmed all the rumors and stories unleashing epic tale after epic tale. Here are some examples

Her monthlong hitchhiking trip to Mexico with her new boyfriend which she met during a period that she swore off men and became a lesbian.
Her abandoment issues with men that led to a stint of polyamory (multiple open sex partners)
Her amzing ability to do any drug without becoming addicted
Her world renound dance skills that draws crowds at every club she attends
Her performance of the Tempest in a 3D venue off a a bay area landfill, where she nearly destroyed her play by sleeping with the lead, and the director.
Her life in a commune while part timing her $14,000 a quarter education at Stanford

Each story was followed by a more epic tale that belonged in a novel or National Enquirer headline. Over the next two hours I sat trying not to have my jaw hit the floor, avoid eye contact with her pit hair, and avoiding the yuppies reaction to my strange companion. I found myself replying with generic phrases like; wow, thats so crazy, wild, interesting, cool, awesome, and holy shit man. After all how the fuck do you go story for story with a person that just told you about skinny dipping in thunderstorms, or voyueristic sex tales in your boyfriends sisters house while the mom is in the room across the hall? Tales that start out the other day in my cubicle, or this one time at my party in college don't quite compare.

At this point of the evening I began thinking about if I was "really living." Had I just become one of those average people droning away at a cube? Working for one of a million companies that produces shit for other people to consume, so I could pay for random shit that I deemed worthy of my efforts. Is this what life is all about? Was this what I am meant to do with my life? Am I missing out on a world of experiences?

I have not quite come to a conclusion on all of this shit. I have decided to involve myself in more random experential activities once my chest heals but the fact of the matter is I do a lot of shit already, and I like the stuff that I spend my time doing. Excluding watching shitty reality tv dramas because I am so tired after work.

Cari's life is phenomonal in the regard that she has lived out all sorts of experiences and seems to have done very little damage to herself emotionally, excluding an extrodinarily inflated ego and narissism complex. However, as much as she has thinks she is cultured and worldly outside of Highlands Ranch she still feeds from its ambillical cord. She still goes to Stanford on her parents dollar and therefore can live in hippie commune in Berkeley without any consequences. Assuming she graduates from HR she is attempting to get her parents to pay for holistic medical school which is what "she really wants to do." It's very conveinent to be a hippie doing whatever the fuck you want when you live in a bubble like Berkeley where people think thats cool and you have someone busting their ass sacraficing their personal life financing your shit. When your thirty-five and mommy and daddy don't want to do that shit you either grow up and move on or become a transiet depeding on other motherfuckers to do your shit.

This whole hippie thing is very conveinent and selfish. As long as your not hurting anyone else or mother earth it's all gravy. But the fact of the matter is you're not stopping wars, you're not saving the planet. On your watch the environment is going to shit and we are carrying on a war that makes about as much sense as Vietnam. All you fucks are doing is consuming drugs, fucking, and doing what is convienent for you while other people do all the work. You want to be a drain on the system at least do your part to change the planet, you picked me up in your mom's Chevy Suburban for christ sakes.

Man, I hate Hippies

Welcome to the Big Leagues

2006-07-27T21:20:00.000-07:00

I'm For: Kebabs, writing classes at work, Cubs come from behind victories, people posting comments on my blogs, seeing the mountains on my way to work every day

I'm Against: Potatoes at every meal, flies, steroids fucking everything up, rereading blogs and finding grammatical errors, seeing an accident nearly every day I drive on the road

Soccer is the greatest sport in the World. Go ahead try to argue but you will be defeated, I am stubborn, loud, and I do not listen to others well when it comes to arguments. Because many of you will not pay attention to the rest of this I am going to pull out my trump card right now. Soccer is the best game in the World because the majority says so. The World says its the best sport and you can't argue with the majority.

Popularity contests aside, Soccer is a rare combination of passion, athleticism, and spectator friendly environments that lift it to the top of the sports podium. Here are my top 5 arguments for soccer (in no particular order).

1. Spectator friendly: The game is simple to follow, not tons of intricate rules and fouls that take a high level of involvement to understand. There are no illegal defenses, infield fly rules, or other obscure concepts to explain. Most fouls occur arround the action where the fans are watching, unlike football where a great play can be called back because of a holding penalty at the line of scrimmage. The most difficult concept to explain is offsides, which I am going to clear it up for you right now and put away the mystery. No offensive player can be behind the last defender when the ball is played into an offensive position. This prevents players from cherry picking and forces teams to be more creative in developing their attacks. (I think that they should alter the offsides rule to make it obsolete inside the 18 to encourage scoring but that is for another day). Most importantly, the game is a set length of time, no timeouts, no extra commercials. The last 2 minutes of a basketball game can last a half hour same thing for football. With soccer the game is 90 minutes barring extra time the game is over in two hours, every time.

2. Athleticism: Soccer is one of the greatest games of finess in the world. It combines speed and agility with tremendous dexterity of your total body. Rather than depening on hands, players have endless creative options with their body to manipulate the movement of the ball. If you have seen world class soccer players mess around with a ball your jaw will drop to the floor. Furthermore these are the greatest atheletes that the world have to offer, in nearly every nation the premier sport is soccer and if you are top athlete of appropriate build your whole life is Soccer.

3. Storylines: Soccer has the greatest rivalries in the world. Yankees vs. Sox, Avs vs. Redwings, Broncos vs. Raiders, have abselotuely nothing on Madrid vs. Barca, Utd. vs. City, AC vs. Inter. Nearly every team in Europe has a major rival and for some teams their entire season relies on these "derbies" pronouced darby. The games go well beyond players, coaches, or personal battles. There are social and political factors that go back into wars and boarderlines being drawn. Imagine the most intense college rivalry, and imagine that one of the schools bombed the other one and incarcerated half of the alumni. Now you have an idea of the intensity of some of the rivalries.

4. The environment: The only sports environment that comes close to international soccer matches are college sports. The problem is in most college sports venues over half of the stands are occupied by wealthy alumni who don't get up and cheer unless mandated by a jumbotron. Soccer stadiums are lively from start to finish and have creative chants, songs, and atomosphere that puts our Bull Shit chants and "Hey" song to shame.

5. Team Dynamics: Soccer is a true team game, it is not dominated by a few skill players like a pitcher, QB, or hockey goalie. Everyone must contribute and have a complete skill set of defending, passing, shooting, and fitness to play the game at a high level. Roles are not strictly segmented and delegated, everyone has the opportunity to be a hero in a game weather you are right back or center forward.

All that being said Soccer is the most poorly marketed sport in America. I would not even go so far to call it the fifth major sport in America. It's battling with Poker, Lacrosse, Nascar, Golf, and God knows what else for that title. American soccer has one of the worst marketing execution plans that I have ever seen. I was willing to turn around American soccer when I applied for a marketing internship after college, I still haven't heard from our friends in MLS and so I feel a rant coming on.

I went to a Colorado Rapids game (MLS) on Wednesday. The ticket was a gift from a co-worker who happens to be a Colorado Rapids cheerleader. (more on that later) The game was poorly attended I would guesstimate 8,000 fans in a cavernous 70,000 seat stadium. The environment was dead, I would have been more comfortable studying for a final exam than watching a soccer game in Mile High that night.

The MLS has gone through painstaking efforts to make sure the league is a success from a business standpoint. The league started out extremely financially conservative, pointing to a failed NASL (see the movie Once in a Lifetime about the New York Cosmos for more details on that). They adopted a salary cap and a communist ownership system where the contracts were owned by the league rather than individual teams. This meant no owners could go out and spend exorbitant amout for player talent and the league would do whatever possible to make the teams as equal and bland as possible. With special "considerations" for key markets like NY, LA, and DC. Player salaries started out at a modest $30,000 to $250,000 max. Numbers that have probably doubled in the past ten years.

As a business, MLS owners have stayed afloat and are begining to make strides on and off the field to create a better product. Teams are steadily improving, with reserve teams and developmental programs to generate home grown talent. Teams are building soccer specific stadiums which are increasing revenues, and creating more fan friendly atmospheres than the football mega stadiums. There are better owners acquiring teams who are willing to make financial investements to create a profitable venture.

The chief problem remains there are not butts in the seats, and there are not enough people watching on tv. The main reason is the atmosphere of the MLS in stadium and on TV stinks. Let me start with TV. Can we get some decent fucking commentary? I cannot tell you how frustrating it is to hear about the offsides rule and a yellow card like it is my first time watching the game. How many people in this country have played in or had a family member play soccer? It is the most popular recreational sport in the country! People know the fucking rules, and the people who don't sure as fuck aren't watching the MLS. It's a simple fact, lets acknowledge it and move on. Casual sports fans that suddenly adopt soccer as a sport will be able to pick up on the intricacies of offsides and fouls, they understand football and baseball don't they? Do we hear hockey commentators explain icing, offsides, or the penalty box every time there is an infraction? NO! because that would be fucking rediculous. They talk about the strategy, the action, the storylines, because they know the game and the intracies. Let's start to do that with soccer, and while we are at it get somebody who is compelling to speak. Chris Berman, Lee Corso, I don't fucking care there is someone better than Shep Messing thats for sure.

Fix the commentary and give me high quality HD ESPN camera work and my tv experience is perfect. The only thing that is left to be improved is the in field environment, which in turn will enhance the tv experience for casual fans.

It comes down to two things, getting butts in the seats and getting them engaged in the action on the field. Watching the game itself is only 1/3rd of the reason to go to the stadium and watch a sporting event. The on field product isn't great, but it isn't bad either these players are good and they can easily be made better by a few people getting up and involving themselves in the game. Most Americans understand soccer and can appreciate effort hustle and creative buildup. The fact is they are afraid to do so in a crowd where their voice will stand out. What these people need is beer and education.

Let's adopt the best things that work in America and Europe and make this an event. First of all cheerleaders, no offense Kelsey but they simply don't work in Soccer. In fact in all sports they pretty much don't fit, but in Soccer where there are no timeouts or breaks in action, they are particularly worthless. Drop em'

American native cheers: The Hey Song, The Wave, Zombie Nation, We Will Rock You, one or two traditional songs with the lyrics adapted for your team and we have something going.

Beer and food specials: If you had $2 Beer and Brat on Wednesday Nights that has to be worth 5,000 people alone. 5,000 not sober and cheery spectators. Find a way and Adopt it.

Heckling: Hell yes, avoid the whole racist bit but get us a homefield advantage. I garuntee that more players would want to be rooted against than to hear crickets for two hours.

Privatize Teams: It's American its capitalistic, and it is about time. The league is almost financially stable, keep a salary cap but lets let these owners build some teams with talent. Create dynasties, create rivalries. That is good for the game, hell Mark Cuban and George Steinbrenner are as entertaining to watch as the teams they own. English team Chelsea is nicknamed Chelski for their Russian Mafia connections, thats interesting!

Mascots and Team Names: We are not European, why the hell do we have team names like Real Salt Lake? or FC Dallas. Our american attempt were pretty pathetic too the Clash? Fusion? Eggh, if we can't think of an animal or color can we at least avoid foreign knock offs or complex nouns! Lets buy back some of the classics from the A-League, the Seattle Sounders, Portland Timbers, NY Cosmos they are regional and they are decent.

It is not going to happen overnight, but I expect some sincere efforts to be made and to continue to be pushed. It is coming slowly, and we might not be able to beat Football or Basketball but I expect us to at least compete with Hockey in 10 years. By then I will be in the marketing department of one of MLS' successful franchises.

In ten years, I told you so.

Bass not into the Tuna

2006-07-26T22:09:00.000-07:00

I'm For: John Mayer Trio, increased mobility in my torso, practicing guitar, my car's gas mileage

I'm Against: Lance Bass's sexuality being headline news, skunky imports, my parents early bedtime cutting guitar practice short, BMW's with the bumper sticker "Don't let the car fool you, my real treasure is in heaven."

People need to get their own fucking lives. We are a society that obsesses over the lifestyle of the sucessful, wealthy, famous, and good looking. It is a society of syncophants and followers that can't fucking make a decision for themselves. We feel the need to look to celebrities for the answers in style, philosophies, and all things cool. There countless media outlets that are dedicated to the lifestyles of celebrities, psuedocelebrities, and people who would do anything to be part of their elite group. Everytime I flip the channel past VH1, E!, MTV, or a major network someone is going on about the behavior of the rich and famous. We ooh and awe about their lavish clothes and houses, and we overanalyze and deplore every false step they take.

Part of my job is to flip through magazines and to analyze competitive ads for other beverage brands. I look over a lot of magazines like People, Cosmo, US, Entertainment Weekly, Men's Health, and Maxim. Half of these magazines are dedicated to photos of celebrities with their families in every day situations. Paperazzi are paid good money to take pictures of celebrities trying to spend time with their children. What the fuck is the point, what a waste of resources and time. Instead of doing something productive or furthering your artform by taking pictures of something beautiful or in an artful technique. You waste time and resources spying and hassling people so other people can waste their time in critique. The whole austentacious celebrity spending culture makes no sense, and is a drain on our society.

Today illustrated our obsession with the stupid perfectly. Lance Bass a former member of teen supergroup N'Sync came out of the closet and it was headline news on almost every major news content aggregator in this country and perhaps the world. N'Sync was not worth anyone's time to begin with they were a group of 5 guys that were assembled together with the sole purpose of exploiting the hormones and economic power of pubescent girls. I have nothing against the guys, they were above average talents that were willing to work hard to maximize their performance abilities and play the system under a literal "fat cat" in Lou Pearlman. Eventually they learned they were getting screwed, but before they could do anything about it and prove their real talent, they all learned that they were just biproducts of the system that just fucked them.

This group did not produce art, they did not create the one thing that makes life truly worth living, human expression. Without human expression in the form of art, love, or passion through sport, friendship, or other humanistic pursuits we become mindless drones that drive to and from work to produce some random shit for someone else to consume. Keep pursuing that art, human expression, and passion. Keep our souls in tact for as long as we can hold onto.

While we are on the subject of Lance's sexuality, is anyone really that surprised. Yes he was the quiet "religious one" but in hindsight the publicists just overplayed that so we wouldn't see the truth. Let's think about this for a second, the guy was from Mississippi and he sang and danced since he was a child. Somebody had to know the dude was gay. Being shot into space with a bunch of dudes aside, we had to have a hunch.

Regardless a man's preference for summer sausage over tuna, headline news? I think not.

Like Bambi on Ice

2006-07-24T17:12:00.000-07:00

I'm For: The Sports Guy (Bill Simmons ESPN writer), The Racontours (again), Medical Insurance, company golf tournaments, and my nephew's obsession with dinasours.

I'm Against: Skip Bayless, Impending Medical Bills, Trucks or people hauling shit in the left lane, my car falling to pieces, capital one visa, breathing, coughing, laughing, and moving my torso.

There were many things that I would like to be writing about right now; including the very busy family weekend, my performance at GRUB (Ultimate Tournament), or how I got paid for getting sloshed, playing golf, and getting ruthlessly ribbed by my boss. Instead today's blog is dedicated to the most recent pain in my ass (or as it were my chest). This weeks Blog is dedicated to how I cracked my sternum.

For all of you folks who don't remember your biology or physiology very well your Sternum is the bone that runs down the middle of your ribcage. It's primary purposes are to provide structure to your torso and to protect your vital organs in particular your heart and lungs. Its a really strong bone, and its not very common to break it to say the least.

I was playing in Colorado's big CO-ED Ultimate Frisbee tournament GRUB. Teams came from other states and a few of the best players from the Men's and Women's divisions combined to form all star teams. It's a pretty big tournament and I was very excited at the opportunity to play several big games for the first time in a row.

The first two games went fairly well, I didn't play extrodinary but I was playing strong well rounded Frisbee considering my team wasn't making me a focal point offensively. In the first game we won fairly handily against a team where my teammate from Gonzaga Devo played. They played surprisingly well and Devo had a two sick catches. I did my thing got a couple of D's a score and an assist and we rolled on to our second game against Ripe, a rival team from Denver.

Ripe was a surprisingly good team, they were short and fast and played a lot of quick give and go. Defensively I ran my ass off and I still seemed like I was behind my guy all fucking game. Apparently I had tougher match-ups then the rest of my team because they were coming up with sick layout d's all game, they got the D's and I helped out with three calm assists to put help my team with a 11-8 victory.

The third game was supposed to be our big matchup of the day. We were playing UPS, a team formerly known as Hang Time from Dallas. This team is consistently one of the best CO-ED teams in the country and we came out fired up. We got a couple big plays and went up 2-0. I come out on the third point and the other big man Dave gets a huge D, when I see he gets the disc off to bb a handler, I do my job and immediately streak D, when I see that I am not getting the disc I made as Jake Firman says, "the best cut in Ultimate" and proceeded to cut back to the disc hard at this stage my story gets a little hazy. As I am coming back towards the disc I see out of the corner of my eye a guy coming right at me to make a defensive play, rather than yielding to me running like a frieght train he decides to turn and lower his shoulder to protect himself.

He= 5'9" and built like a rugby player
Me=6'1" and built like a heroin addict

We collide, I feel a crack in my chest and I crumbled to the ground like Bambi on Ice. I think I mumbled foul/injury or something as I crashed to the ground but I am not quite sure because my biggest focus is trying to get air into my lungs which feel like they have just been crushed. Within a few seconds I am surrounded by a bunch of people and since there are lots of them asking questions I assume I was writhing around and making quite a scene. People start asking me if I know where I am, if I can feel my legs my hands, what hurts, if I should move, if I can breath. Between gasps and rolling from one uncomfortable position to the next, I pretty much cannot get up, and they get a cart to pick me up to go to the hospital. Fortunately the second question they ask is do I have insurance and to that I replied yes it kicked in two days ago. Thank God.

They take me to my teammates car, and walking out of the bathroom is Adam "Chicken" Simon, one of the best players in college and Elite Ultimate. He was a guy that I made fun of ruthlessly for quite a bit of my life for acting like he was one of the greatest gifts to Ultimate in the world. It is something that he has always played, and he is pretty fucking good at it although not always the most clutch player. Well my teammate recruited his help to get me into the car, which was in many ways like a D-III college basketball player being helped off the court by J.J. Redick.

I went to the hospital and tried to be as cheery, humorous, and badass for all of the nurses, guests, and doctors as possible. I think many of them were in shock by my sanfroid demeanor during the whole process. They poked and prodded, they did this test and that, but nothing really revealed anything. I was there for an x-ray and some pain pills. I told them I heard a crack and my sternum pretty much felt like it was broken. They said it would take a great deal of force to break a sternum, and they did not think it was broken. They were wrong, my sternum broke and they did a catscan to make sure my internal organs weren't damadged. Fortunately they were not and I headed home in a great deal of discomfort, faced with no exercise or Ultimate for quite some time.

I am trying to make the best of this situation but unfortunately injuries are extremely frustrating, particularly for athletes (even poor wannabe athletes like myself).

The pros
The injury could have been worse I could have fucked up internal organs, or I could have hurt a knee or an ankle that could have ended my season or my career. This I am very thankful for. In addition to that, I will have significantly more time to waste. Practice took up 3 hours two evenings a week not including a commute, and I usually would not get home until at least 11:00 pm. In addition to that my track workouts on weekends took up a greater portion of my afternoons. This means I will be better rested, have more time for blogs, reading, guitar, and other activities, see drinking and hopefully videogames. Unfortunately this ends my list of pros.

The Cons are much more significant
I don't get to play Ultimate for at least a month. All the work up to this point getting my body into the best physical condition I have been in for years basically goes down the drain. My body was begining to look like it was carved out of granite from all the plyos, pushups, abwork, track workouts and yoga that I was doing on a daily basis to compete with the best in my sport. This sport was my best releas of tension from work and parents, and at this point was my biggest social network in Denver. I saw and talked with these people more than anyone outside of work in Denver.

I am restricted to sitting and waiting to get better, meanwhile my muscle, my conditioning, and my throws are going to melt into a pile of waste before the most important part of the season. I am going to spend more time with my parents, wasting away in front of the TV and internet. I am going to get frustrated grouchy, and depend on alcohol to tire myself. My soul will not be replinished after long days at work. Everyday there will be nothing to look forward to, to get met fired up and make push me to my limits physically and mentally.

That and my medical bills. Which I expect to be at least $500 are fucking draining my funds for cooler things like trips to tournaments, a better apartment, or an X-Box 360.

This blows, and I may sound like a bitch, but this is my blog and I will bitch if I want to.

Parential Downpour

2006-07-15T17:24:00.000-07:00

I'm For: Free Rent, sleeping in on weekends, buying new cd's and not caring about money

I'm Against: Living with my parents, getting bitched at for sleeping in, and complaints about the volume of my music

Holidays a time for joy, relaxing, and celebration. A day where everyone can just kick back chill out and do things at their own pace. An excuse to eat, drink and be merry.

Something in got lost in translation when the word Holiday entered the McCarthy vocabulary. Holidays are a stressful time. We act like a pack of wild Hyenas; territorial, vicious, and cannabalistic. My mother and father each have unrealistic expectations for meals. Both create completely unrealistic expectations for food and stress out about the meal days ahead of schedule. When anything goes a hair wrong or the other disturbs their cooking process they completely freak out about the situation.

My brothers and I typically try to avoid the situation like the plague, we have trained ourselves to sleep in for as long as possible and to work out to alleviate stress beforehand. Then we relax in the living room watching tv, reading, or having simple conversations. Unfortunately the living room is too close to the kitchen and our relaxation is always short lived. Mom and dad begin to lash out about any imperfection they can find. It starts out with the cleanliness of the house. Starting with the living room and dining areas. When we have taken care of those so called problem areas, she begins to get more irrational. Clean your Rooms! the bathroom in the basement! Your CLOSETS are disgusting! Mow the lawn, wash the cars!

When we have cleaned every room inside and out of the house they start taking shots at us. Mom starts with hygene, Dad starts attacking professions and girlfriends. We defend each other at first but eventually all the nagging causes one of us to snap and we start yelling back. Then its open hunting season and the McCarthy's anyone and anything is fair game. My mother threw my Birthday cheesecake at my father one year. In response the next year my Dad "accidently" broke her waterford glass lamp next Christmas. This fourth of July I put a hole through a wall and I have never punched anything in my life, anyone who spends time with me knows I am a nipple pincher, a finger bender, and a face slapper.

Next week we welcome my aunt uncle and a cousin from the states. My brother Michael is coming into town in coordination with them. This no doubt means that my sister and her three kids will make an appearance bringing the frantic energy that will amplify the tension. To compound stress I have friends coming up for a Frisbee tournament where I am going to be all weekend. Swirl in a little alcohol and Silverweed Way is beginning to look a lot like the Middle East.

What's in a Name?

2006-07-14T16:54:00.000-07:00

I'm For: The Strokes, BBQ's and Margaritas at work, sleeping in

I'm Against: Mosquito bites still, days so hot that you can't get the humidity off your nuts, completing my sentenc...

Most of you are well aware that I live in a Suburb within a Suburb of a Suburb. Lone Tree is a city that is nestled in a corner of a greater area called Highlands Ranch, which itself is a suburb of Littleton. We are thirty minutes away from everywhere but nowhere near anything that is going on. If Lone Tree was an Ice Cream flavor it would be called Non-Fat Water. Its as bland as you can get.

If you like franchises its the place for you, we have all the blockbusters and starbucks a heart could desire. You won't find a finer burger than our Red Robin and if you like a great Beer in a fun atmosphere then TGI Fridays is the place for you. Its a place so rediculous but if you stay here for too long you begin to forget why it is so rediculous. Just when I think I am totally numb to my surroundings I enocounter a name that slaps me like Rick James.

It all started with the neighborhoods, each one had to one up the next with a more pretentious scenic name. First there was Falcon Hills, followed by Heritage Hills, only to be outdone by Heritage Estates, Prominence Pointe, Castle Pines, and the Enclave. The people did not stop by living in incredibly pretentious establishments they felt the need to get cars that had names of abseloute superiority.

The Titan a huge fucking truck that is almost as big as one.
Armada naming a car after a big fucking Spanish fleet that was the biggest dissapointment in history before Ryan Leaf entered the NFL.
Murano a piece of Vietnamese glass?
Protege' a guy that follows around an expert
Tacoma a fucking smelly city that plays ugly step sister to Seattle
Tundra barren wilderness
Sequoia a big fucking tree
Escape, Explorer, Expedition, and Excursion all basically the same thing but just bigger more stupida and pretentious.

No it doesn't stop there, it continues to there kids. I have no problem with naming your kid after a family member or something that has to do with your ethnic heritage. Fine, I mean I have siblings named Siobhan and Kieran. But there are some new age bullshit hippie excuses for names being given to kids these days.

For instance.
Skyler: as in I really like the sky what can I do to name my kid after that, I know ad er, the worst thing is it works for both genders.
Madison: It's long, its a fucking college town, and it inevitably becomes Matti or Madi
Any form of Ash for a dude, Ashley Ashton Asher just terrible.
Caden, Hayden, Jaden and Kaden, what is that? unless your are Irish and naming your kid Aiden you shouldn't have that ending.

What's in a name, in this town, stupidity.

Apocolypse Now

2006-07-13T20:58:00.000-07:00

I'm For: It raining like the second coming of Noah's Ark, Metallica's S&M, and my Huge Cock

I'm Against: The plague of Mosquito's, Phil Collins, and my compulsive lying disorder.

I am in a downward spiral to addiction. Additicion to three of the worst substances for an entry level employee. Coffee, Air Conditioning, and the facebook. All three addictions are uncontrollably syphoning my resources from my body. They may seem like innocent vices, but they are true addicitions that are tearing my life apart.

The facebook addicition started out innocently enough, I would check it occassionally to see what new pictures people put up of themselves. I would occassionally use it as a reference to find new books and movies to watch. There wasn't any real content to drive me to the site, and for the most part there still isn't. That doesn't stop me from checking, its more compulsive than checking peoples away messages. Why do I care what they are doing? Some of these people I haven't spoken to for years but I still check if they are going out to lunch. Its just a waste of time and energy and I must stop it. No more facebook, unless I get a message. It will be like new years or lent, easy as that.

Every day I drive to work to convince people to drink the coldest and most refreshing beer. But there is nothing cold and refreshing about day time traffic in the rockies. It used to be that I could drive to work and gut it out with the windows down when things got slow, but it is not enough anymore. There is nothing positive about showing up to work with a sweaty ass, so I buy the extra half of tank for White Lightning. She is slow as hell coming out of traffic already bu with air conditioning and a transition that is about as smooth as 15 year old skin, she doesn't run to pretty.

Which brings me to the most draining addiction, Coffee. Usually I avoid coffee but I have a ritual every Sunday that I go to Barnes and Nobel and read for an hour. This tradition is because my parents still tell me to go to church. My church in Colorado is a cavernous and souless hole that is devoid of anyone between the ages of 16 and 32. It is the largest parish on the West of the Mississippi and there is abseloutely no sense of community and since I was taught in my bible school that church means community, I find that kind of ironic. So rather than go to this rather unpleasant and unfufilling destination, I go to Barnes and Nobel and read for an hour. To and from I drive in a car with no distractions, which gives me the opportunity to sit and reflect on my behavior for the week. It is a very refreshing ritual, and although it may not be a formal religion, it expands my horizons and helps me reflect in a fulfilling way.

My church experience was disrupted this past week when my Dad asked me to go pick up some Pizza after "Church." I said sure but Barnes and Nobel was no where near the Pizza place, so I decided to change my plans and go to a nearby Starbucks (1 of 8 within a 3 mile radius of my house, no joke) adjacent to the Pizza place where I could read my library book. I was settling in with a Black and White Mocha (which they call a Zebra Mocha in Highlands Ranch) when a most unsettling thing happened. An 7 year old's birthday party arrives. I shit you not a troupe of 8 year old girls and 2 younger boys excitedly march into Starbucks. They march in and start playing tea party with the merchandise and initiate a rousing game of hide and go seek. I could not believe my eyes, here I was trying to read a book in a peacful coffee shop with smooth jazz and sophisticated italian names and in marches Chuck E' Cheese's target market. Starbucks is supposed to be that Italian espresso location, a third home away from work and the stresses of your place. Well someone must not have gotten the memo that my third home does not host the magic schoolbus adventure. FUCKING 8 year olds DUDE.

When the mother brought out the Cake and party utensils, the birthday girl came forward and annouced that she was going to be having a iced mocha. When mother said that she was not allowed to have Coffee, the birthday girl threw a tantrum. Realizing that getting any reading done was pretty much hopeless at this stage I set my book down and decided to watch the show. The girl went crazy, the crying lasted two minutes as the mother placed orders of hot chocolates and ciders for all the other kids, and coffee's for herself and her husband. Finally she turned around dragged her daughter to the corner near the bathroom and said that if she did not stop she was going to only get water. It was an honorable effort by the mom but she would not win, a minute later she finally gave in and got the birthday girl a fappachino, of which the girl drank about half and then proceeded to drink her friends hot chocolate.

This situation was so Highlands Ranch that I wanted to wrap it up in a box and show it to the rest of the world. The mother tried to discipline her daughter but she had already lost the battle the moment she said that party could be at Starbucks. Are you surprised you have a moody bitch of an eight year old? She already drinks coffee, that cannot be good for pre-pubescent hormones. Starbucks has won, we are seeing the apocolypse. Pretty soon I we will be shitting Coffee beans and dry roasting our own fieces.

I stayed awake all until 2, I got to catch up on all that reading I missed in Starbucks. The damn caffine was in my brain and I couldn't sleep. Inevitiably I would wake up and feel like shit and need coffee to function. Then after work I have frisbee in north Denver which means I don't get home until 11:00 pm. That means Tuesday is a coffee day as well. Wednesday I need to wake up early to go to the Brewery headquarters, then I am going to need coffee to get through meetings.

It's Sunday night and I am already 9 hours behind sleep on the week and four coffees in the hole.

I am never skipping "Church" again.

World Cup Apathy

2006-07-06T21:39:00.000-07:00

I'm For: Blowing up stuff, Jack White's new Band, busy days at work, Guacamole, and Bastian Sweinsteiger

I'm Against: Bad Patriotic Music, earning the title spreadsheet king, Pace salsa, nightmares of rear ending cars at high speeds, and Christiano Ronaldo

I'm indiffrent to: Who wins the World Cup

I told you it was going to happen in my last post. It did not take a rocket scientist to tell you we would be treated to two games of bland soccer where teams were afraid to attack the goal. France and Portugal was determined by a penalty kick, and Italy waited 90 minutes before putting on attacking players that were capable of making a difference on the scoresheet. The World Cup final will be much of the same, two classic European teams playing soccer to not be the team that screws up. I don't care who wins, I don't hate either of the nations but I do not feel any attachment to either of them.

There is not a single story or player that any casual fan can get behind. There is no Jerome Bettis playing for his last chance at a championship. There is no explosive and entertaining player like Dwayne Wade that commands respect. There is not even a gregarious trash talker stirring up trouble off the field. Both teams are being completely reverent to the others skill and abilities and nobody is going out of their way to win or lose the game. The players and the teams are setting up for a World Cup of apathy and I won't stand by and let it happen.

I need a team to root for and since I can't do it by any legitimate Soccer basis I am going to do it on a best of five series on purely arbitrary qualities of the two nations. The first team to get 3 definitive wins based on my judgement will recieve my wholehearted support on Sunday's final.

1. Food
Italy takes a commanding lead in this matchup scoring three goals with Lasanaga, Spaghetti, and kick the crap out of the French defense of Escargo, Frog Legs and other overcooked unidentifiable meats. France does get a goal back with their side dishes most notably French Bread and Cheese and another goal from their famous desert Tiramisu taking the cake over Gelato. But Italy puts the game away with their beer Peroni getting the late goal.

Italy wins the battle of culinary fortitude

2. More interesting names to pronounce

I am a big fan of names and out of place looking characters. I picked West Virginia to go to the Elite Eight in 2004 purely on gangly and pale tatoo canvas named Pittsnoggle. Both teams have a handful of names that are fun to pronouce, especially in outrageous accents. Ribery and Henry roll off the tounge nicely in a Paresian accent. And any mobster would have a field day with names like Cameronesi, Luca Toni, Gionlugigi Buffon, and Cannavaro. Italy leads the category with quantity, but Zinedine Zidane wins it for France with his high frequency of the letter Z.

Francezz

3. Hair

France has a pleothera of bald people including a modern geometric marvel on Zidanes dome. Riberery also embodies French history with his hooked nose and goatee combo. But Italy and their greasy mop tops blow France out of the water. Honestly, can you compete with Cameronesi's Samuri inspired top knot ponytail? What kind of product does he use? And I have to look twice to make sure I am not looking at Steve Nash when Pirlo darts around.

Advantage Italy

4. War History

This would be better titled the battle of futility given the two nations recent military "accomplishments." In both World Wars France's defenses held together as long as your average middle school relationship. Perhaps the only display that was more pathetic was Italy and the ability to turncoat in that critical part in the War when they realized their side was going to lose. Mussolini's Italian conquest of the mighty nation of Ethopia in 1933 took longer than France's defensive stand against Germany in WWII. To be fair its hard to plan for such modern Warfar tactics as Lion traps sized for tanks.

To settle this battle we have to go old school. Back to the Roman empire, the last time Italy had a formidable Army. Sure they conquered half of the World at the time, and spread their culture everywhere giving the world things like democracy and bath houses. But Greece really invented all those good things, all the romans did was rape and pillage and build a wall in north England. France, and had two notable military conquests. The most notable was that of Napoleons conquest, but the diminuitive fellow couldn't avoid the Russian winter and greed and ultimately his conquest failed. Thank god we don't have to run around with French accents now. The other one was more important because their "help" in the Revolutionary War, kind of gave us a country and a holiday in July to boot. 10 short years later, France took it upon themselves to kill everyone who helped us win that war, which gave way to our aforementioned War hero.

Regrettably, I think I have to pick France.

5. Most Phallic Symbol

The deciding vote for which team I will support in this World Cup comes down to the most phallic National Monument. Putting the Eiffel Tower against the Leaning Tower of Piza. Neither really serves any purpose other than to be tall erect and phallic. Every great nation seems to have one. Having seen neither of these in person I am going to go with my gut here. Given that I am a slight left leaner myself, I am going to give this award to the Leaning Tower of Piza.

Viva Italia!

Lets just hope there are some goals.

Joga Feo

2006-07-03T18:36:00.000-07:00

I'm For: Wolfmother (awesome Australian rock band), Kobiashi, Burritos, Colorado Microbrews

I'm Against: Almost anything on VH1, Fireworks bans, Bad Fish Tacos, Gin and Tonics

It's unfortunate that most of America's exposure to soccer is in an event where the stakes are so high that the ugliest soccer is being played. Within the World Cup pressure is so high that even the best professionals in the world crack. The entire world scrutinizes every move and a bad decision can end the hopes of an entire country for four years. The world cup is not an event where you can say, "we'll get them next year" and after a few weeks people will stop talking about it. With one tournament every four years few get second and third chances to compete at their highest level. Between 24 - 29 you are at your peak and you are expected to bring it.

Entire nations don't forget an untimely error and careers often take dramatic turns based on a performance in the World Cup. Roberto Baggio never returned to his elite status after his botched in the 1994 final. On the other side of the spectrum Zidane reached a God like status after his performance in 1998. But the World Cup has a way of making Gods mortal, because in 2002 Zidane fell from grace when France bowed out in the first cup without a single goal.

The pressure to perform is simply too high for any group of athletes to perform their best. The hype is too great, the expectations are unreasonable, and the dissapointment of failure is devastating. Many know the story of the Columbian who was murdered by high stakes gamblers after giving up a game deciding own goal against the United States, therby ending Columbia's hopes of World Cup glory. This is an extreme example, but if you read the papers or hear fans responses to players after the cup murder may seem humane.

This year countless athletes were hyped going into the World Cup and few have even met expectations. Landon Donovan and Demarcus Beasley were practically invisible for USA's three and out, and England's incredible midfield trio of Lampard, Gerrard, and Beckham were as impotent as Bob Dole. Ronaldinho and Brazil's beautiful samba danced like gringos with two left feet when they faced any sort of defensive pressure.

All this failure cannot be a coincidence. The media are not complete idiots, all of the aforementioned players are very good. They score in bundles and they make athletic plays that any sports fan would be able to appreciate for their respective clubs. Yet we see so few of those plays in the World Cup, particularly in the elimination phases. Of the four quarterfinal games two were settled by penalties after long streatches of bland, chippy, and cheap soccer. The previous round was not much better featuring too many 1-0 matches, or even worse games decided by penalties.

Heading into the World Cup we were promised Joga Bonito but the soccer I have been seeing is Joga Muy Feo. There have been more professional fouls, dives, and overacting than I care to say. Say what you will about poor officiating, and I agree it has been pretty shitty, it is the players who are commiting the fouls and trying to draw them. Many people have fallen to draw cards or get penalties and free kicks. We have seen less finess soccer, and more professional Eurotrash bullshit as the tournment has progressed. Perhaps the biggest culprit is Portugal, a team who has the talent and finess to be a very entertaining team to watch. Why entertain and take chances to score legitimately when you can overact and dive and win games? Because in the World Cup it is all about results not about the style of play. If you want to watch good soccer watch a Spanish League game or a Champions League match.

If you can't afford that, then there is always the Hot Dog eating contest. Come' Bonito

Will work for food

2006-06-27T18:18:00.000-07:00

I'm For: Sushi, Brazil, long weekends, and new cubes

I'm Against: Long waits, bad refs, bounced checks, and moving

I am almost a week and a half into the job and things are finally beging to settle into a routein. I wake up at about 7:00 and get around to actually driving to work at 7:50. I let my Ipod on shuffle songs to drown out the unpleasentries of traffic and make my trek to work. I get into work at about 8:30 set up my laptop, check my email and update my electronic calendar that lets everyone at work know when I am available to schedule another meeting.

Then I bounce around shadowing meetings where I listen to a bunch of acronyms that I vaguley understand and nod my head and smile like I know what is going on. I laugh at the occassional joke and I try to do other things like remember names and make up alternative meanings for acronyms so I don't blank out and fall asleep.

I have pretty much finished my initial orientation so most of my day is spent waiting for the next meeting. In that period I check all my usual websites and if I feel really ambitious I read Coors marketing packets. These packets are basically inane customer surveys that try to anlyze who we should target and how.

I am still awaiting my first meetings with my supervisors, but everything that we schedule seems to get cancelled and postponed. As such, I still haven't recieved my job description or "projects" so I am still in limbo. Basically my job right now is to wait for them to give me something that I probably won't be able to do, and in the meantime read up on all things Coors.

As I mentioned in my past blog I had a shitty cube, well all that changed Monday evening when I was informed I was moving into the real cubicle area. I anxiously moved all my stuff across the hall, only to find out Tuesday morning that they assigned me to a different cube, so I moved again. It was pretty exciting. All the cubes are basically the same, except for the apholstory on your furniture of two chairs and footrest/filing cabinet. My cube decore theme is an dark off yellow that I will call marmelade. The only other options that I have seen are an avacado green, and a light rose red.

The best part about my cube is it is right next to a small kitchen area where all the leftovers from catered meetings end up. I begin my scavaging rounds between 2 and 3 and sometimes I get lucky and hit an abseloute jackpot. On Monday I had two sandwhiches, a plate a fruit, and a danish.

Today I had no need for for an afternoon snack because I got to gorge on Sushi for lunch. Our team had a celebration lunch for completing planning and to welcome me. We dined on Sushi and drank beer to the point that I was stuffed. My boss got in the mood and began to share stories of past team bonding events. His story telling and mannerism remind me strangely of Kevin Bland my roommate from freshman year. He is a super entertaining guy and has created a laid back, and crass cuss as much as you want culture for the team. Aside from the looming administrative bitch work that I will have to do over the year, I can't think of a better way to start out. By the end of lunch we had our fill and had some great ideas for team building including a lake trip, a two hour lunch break for a roller coaster marathon at the local six flags, and whitewater rafting. I will keep you up to date if this shit happens.

Jealous much...?

Takin' Care of Biznass

2006-06-25T10:22:00.000-07:00

I'm For: Germany, my office, free corporate lunches, half days to watch the world cup

I'm Against: England, my cube inside my office, food poisioning, watching the U.S. choke

My first week of work is now in the record books.

Up until now my whole "job" and job decription was kind of a mystery to me. I was not sure exactly what I would be doing and although I have a pretty good idea, I am still not sure what exactly it is that I am supposed to do. After the first week this is what I make of the situation.

My company is known as The Integer Group. The companies story is that 13 years ago Coors was too structured and rigid to efficently run all of its operations. As a result they began to outsource some of their departments to subsidary companies. The first department they did this too was their marketing and promotions department. The company since then has grown rapidly from 90 people to 500 people in Denver. We have three other offices across the country and have acquired other major clients including P&G (maker of all household products Bounty, Fabreeze, Tide, etc.). Still the major client we have is Coors, and the major brand that we focus on is Coors Light.

Our companies focus is to create and leverage anything with the Coors brand that would help drive sales. We specialize on things that are on site that would help stimulate purchase behavior. Some examples of things we create include, neon signs, posters, print advertising, in store displays, and events. Pretty much if you see something that is says Coors in a bar, store, or event chances are we created it and put it there.

There are an incredible amount of logistics to make each one of these signs or posters. My role is basically to take the concept from its creation to completion. Passing from the artists, to the fabricators and purchasers, to legal and back. In the end hopefully we create something that people will want to put in their stores, and that will make people want to drink Coors. I guess my job description is most accurately described as a "middleman." I'm like the guy in office space who gets hit by a truck, "I am a people person I am good at dealing with the people!"

Its a pretty awesome place to work. The office looks kind of like Disneyland with a whole lot of Beer parphanalia. The people are really cool overall, and extrodinarily laid back. Nearly everyone likes to drink and hang out and there are all sorts of events that actually encourage us to do so. People have described the atmosophere as like college, but you get paid. The only drawback with this is that everyone dresses extradonarily young and hip so I can't tell how old anyone is or who is a supervisor. Everyone appears to be between 24 and 33 and trying to look younger.

The technology and training thus far have been sweet. Even the phone systems are amazing, its like Audix on steriods. You can look up numbers, speed dial, leave away messages and all sorts of cool stuff. They gave me a new sweet Apple laptop computer with all sorts of awesome programs, including a meeting maker calendar program that has changed my life. For training, I am basically meeting all the people that I am working with and they tell me what they do and why I would need them.

Overall the job has been awesome, thus far I have gotten to drink free beer twice, I have sat and brainstormed ways to get people to buy beer, and met lots of cool people. As far as I can tell I am living the American dream. The only thing that sucks is my cube, which as far as I can tell is the smallest cubicle in the entire company. Right now I am stationed in an old conference room that was meant to be for summer interns. But there are no other interns in there there is just me, and three other empty cubes that are all bigger than mine. Not only that but there are empty cubes in the office that are closer to my team and big, but I cannot move into them because the floor plan manager is gone for a week long bike ride. All this should change by Tuesday, but until then I am in limbo in the smallest cube in the company.

Love/Hate Sport

2006-06-20T20:09:00.000-07:00

I'm For: Patagonia, United States, Fat Tire, Working, and Led Zeppelin "Achilles Last Stand"

I'm Against: Shirts requiring Ironing, Czech Republic, Waking Up, and Def Leppard "Pour Some Sugar on Me"

My lungs search for air but find nothing. My legs are numb except from the soreness of nagging tendons and blisters scoarching through my shoes. My stomach is swirls a blend of ibueprofin, pickle juice, and gatorade. I stare directly at my opponents hips awaiting and anticipating his next move, I do not dare look up at his eyes to do so would reveal my weakness.

It is 12-10, the end is so close that I can taste the ice cold PBR that awaits me in the cooler. We were marching the disc up casually in prime position to go up 13-10 and put an end to their three point run. The wind would be at our backs and we would be two quick scores away from victory. Then the unthinkable happened! Our trusty captain threw it right through the outstreached arms of his wife. That marks the fourth turnover this point. It has notw become an epic struggle of wills; who wants it more? who is going to make the first mistake? who is going to make the game changing play. The answers are; my team does. not me. and I am... if only I can get some God Damn Oxygen in my Lungs!

Fuck, if there were only more trees or algea this wouldn't be a problme. Or if I lived in a state at sea level, without a brown cloud. Why didn't I buy some of those fucking breath right strips? Why couldn't I do stairs and get myself in shape. FUCK.shit.AsS.KickMeInTheGrundle.

He moves. I follow as if we were attached on the chain gain. We run changing angles directions and speeds as we go. There are only three speeds in Ultimate stopped, sprinting, and desperation. Desperation is a speed you don't know you have, it is only used in two situations. When you are literally running for your life, and when you have a group of people depending on you, willing you to an elevation you never dreamed of reaching.

In 3 years of Ultimate I have never played defense this hard for this long. Our footsteps sound like horses at the race track. It is a constant battle for inches that does not die until someone scores. I keep him in check but ultimately someone else lost their battle and a long floating huck falls into the hands of a streaking opponent.

Fuck its 12-11, our 10-7 lead has melted into nothing. For the first time since we took the lead doubt beginst to creep into my mind, could we lose? No, I try to crush it immediately I shout "Let's go White, let's answer this." My cries fall on deaf ears others are listening to their doubt too.

We don't answer they score again, we trade points afterwords but it is too little too late. They took the momentum and the game 13-15. My teammates cannot vocalize their dissapointment, but they do not need to. Our faces and bodies tell everything, we are emotionally and physically beaten. We feel cheated any betrayed, and the betrayers are ourselves.

Exhaustion kicks in from the six games we played over the weekend, then doubt creeps in again. what if i could have caught that swilly huck? what if i was in better shape? i wish i had that throw back, did i say the wrong thing? was i too obnoxious at the party? too cocky? would they cut me? am i too young? do i have enough money? what if i get injured?

SHUT UP! FUCK, SHUT UP!

It's a love hate game. You do things you never ever though your body could do, all because of a team, a group of people you grow to love. It's a love hate game, when you succeed its satisfaction unlike any other, failing leaves you with a sick empty feeling, like you just dry heaved bile. It's a love hate game, I check my email mindlessly the next two days, awaiting the news if I made the team. do they have my phone number? is my phone dead? is my email broken? I open up a new letter I'm in if I want it. It's a love hate game, RIGHT NOW I FUCKING LOVE IT!

I am a sponsored Ultimate player, Patagucci here I come!

Here is a link to a video of the game. I am not featured, but you can see me making in cuts when the throw goes long, and you can see me try to outrun a girl.

http://springsultimate.org/media/
It's the last final titled swollen toe, our game starts about a minute and a half in. Decent footage.

22 years in a month

2006-06-15T20:54:00.000-07:00

I'm for: J.J. in jail, The Clash, sweedish women, Thai Food, and Ultimate Frisbee

I'm Against: The Nuggets past draft history, Fall Out Boy, bermuda shorts on girls, alfredo sauce, and nagging injuries

I have always hated cliches. As Paul Mockford (or as I sometimes referred to him, the jukebox or quote robot) can tell you, I deeply value originality and creativity in thought. But in some cases cliches are too perfect to be ignored. College graduation is a time full of cliches: These are the best years of your life, today is the first day for the rest of your lives, and today I closed a big chapter in my life and begin a new one.

As tacky as they are, they are all true. I cannot imagine a better extended period in my life than college. There will never be another time in my life that I will be surrounded by so many like minded people with the same approach to enjoying life as I had at Gonzaga. There will never be another time where I can seize an opportunity at a whim with such ease. I will never wake up after another morning of making a complete ass of myself and be able to shrug it off at breakfast and say well its just college. College is not so much a location as it is a mentality. Today my friend asked me if I missed Washington, I responded "Not really, what I left no longer exists." College is an experience unique to each individual who takes part in it. It is a collection of people, activities, and events that cannot be replicated. You can try to hold on, but when it is done it is gone and you are just wallowing in the past. To my friends who are still in college I ask you to remember that it is a once in a lifetime experience, and they are they very well could be the best days of your life. You are void of expectations, real world expenses, and responsibilty, take your time to breath in the air of freedom because it will not last long. To my friends who just graduated it is time to close a chapter in our lives, and begin a new one.

The last few weeks I have had several monumental moments that were big chapters in my life. By graduating from college I said goodbye to many of my closest friends, severed ties with clubs and organizations that I had dedicated a great deal of my life to, and ended my longest and most intimate relationship. All of these things were incredibly difficult to let go. Each of the experiences have deeply changed me as an individual in ways that I cannot describe in a short blog. However, they are things that would never be the same outside of college, for better or for worse I must change these relationships and what they have meant to me so I can move on and become a better person.

In addition to graduation I experienced some other incredible monumental moments. I saw my friend start a new life in marriage with a woman he very much loves. I am suffering with my mother who fell ill to a ruptured appendix, and a life threatening surgery to remove the infected and gangrene bacteria removed from her body. To see a woman who was so strong in nuturing me, fall to a posture impotence and depression aged me all 22 years in a month. It is not just her physical struggle to get better after having her appendix removed as well as 5 inches of her intestine and 2 inches of her colon. But is also an emotional battle with the drugs to fight infection, and her mind to relinquish control and capability to do anything. As her temporary servant I bear the brunt of her requests, which at some points push me to madness becuase of their futility. However, deep down I know her suffering from not being able to do what she is accoustomed to is killing her.

Without sadness we would not know joy. Adding to my aging, I recieved my first offer for a job. I will be working on marketing and brand management for Coors Light. I will be doing everything from strategic planning to advertising and promotions. I do not know what is in store for me but I am excited for the challenge, and the environment. I start Monday and although the World Cup and my new Ultimate Frisbee prospects have clouded my thouhts on work I am anxious to start.

I am also trying out for Colorado's premier CO-ED Ultimate Frisbee team. Their name is Bad Larry and they are quite good. They are sponsored by Patagonia and placed 3rd in the nation last year. Making this team would be sweet because I would not only have a sweet physique from being in top notch Ultimate shape, but I would have an immediate circle of friends with a common interest. The team are mostly Twenty somethings and some in their young thirties. they enjoy drinking beer talking and all outdoor recreational activities. From what I can tell they are a good group of people that work hard for each other, and although they expect a great deal out of themselves and each other, they never vocalize dissapointment. It is a unique group, and I am hoping to officially become a part of it after my final tryout experience in a tournament this weekend. Wish me luck and remember...

Today is the first day of the rest of our lives.

Stars and Stripes Maybe Later?

2006-06-13T21:40:00.000-07:00

I'm for: Coors Light, Trinidad and Tobago, flares in stadiums, Jon Mayer, Rubio's fish tacos, and mountain settings

I'm against: Red Hook IPA, England, stat keepers, Sean Paul, Dad's Steak, and Denver traffic

When I was younger, I hoped every day that Soccer would become big in the United States. I wished that I could turn on the T.V. at any moment and see a match, watch some highlights, or hear some banter about the beautiful game. I once believed, that all it would take was the United States to do something special on the international stage and everyone would get sucked into the passion and patriotism that is so deeply tied to soccer.

I believed in this dream because I lived in in 1990 and 1994 when I was in Ireland during the World Cup. Those corny commercials with U2 are true, an entire nation shut down captivated by the same event. The only things that were open were pubs with TV's everyone else was gathered around a TV to watch their boys go represent a nation of people on the worlds biggest stage. Everywhere you went there were people waving and hanging flags, sporting jerseys, and honking horns for Ireland. If you hated soccer you hated life, but if you loved soccer you were in Nirvana.

When Ireland a tiny nation of only 3 and a half million people beat world superpower Italy 1-0. People took to the pubs, the streets, and anywhere else they could find another person to celebrate with. It was an experience unlike any other, and an experience that I have come to understand, will never happen in America.

I used to believe that all it would take was a good showing in the World Cup, a monumental win, a shot heard around the world that could draw soccer into the same breath as the big three (Football, Baseball, and Basketball). Time and time again the U.S. has made huge steps on the international level defeating Columbia in 1994, Portugal and Mexico in 2002, and mighty Brazil in 1999. With all those accomplishments American Soccer could not sustain a headline for more than a day.

Soccer in the United States has made tremendous progress. They established the most successful grass roots recreational sport in the United States, inspiring a cultural phenomon called the soccer mom. They have a professional league over 10 years old that has given players a chance to improve their game and fed the national team with a much bigger pool of competitive players. All of these efforts has allowed the U.S. to qualify for four straight World Cups, and advanced to the quarterfinals in 2002, where they dominated but lost to Germany the tournament's runner up. You'll notice I said qualify because the tournament started two years ago when teams are placed in pools within their respective region and play matches at home and foriegn soil in order to earn a place in the World Cup finals. There are no garuntees in international soccer every year a powerhouse is left out, England in 1994, Netherlands in 2002, Nigeria and Cameroon in 2006. This year Ireland was dealt a cruel hand and placed behind Netherlands and France in their group, so my hopes rested in the United States.

This year hopes have been high, and hype has been unmatched. Landon Donovan, Demarcus Beasly, Bobby Convey and Oguchi Onyewu have been dubbed the golden generation of American soccer. The United States was rated 5th in the world rankings, and they are led by a supurb manager with unconventional but effective ideas. We were confident, we were underdogs, and we were ready.

Then we got our asses kicked.

For all of you just joining the international soccer scene, I apologize on the behalf of the United States effort. That was bar none the worst performance I have seen by any team thus far this World Cup. That was the worst I have seen the United States play since 1998 against Germany and Iran. Critics have said that the United States lacked Creativity, Skill, and Energy. All that may be true, but I think it is much more simple than that.

The United States were not Hungry.

Sports are games of passion, desire, and will. If you have competent skill level and truly believe and desire to win then it is possible to win. That is why upsets are possible, that is how Gonzaga beat Florida and Stanford. In 2002 the United States was a young team of hungry players who wanted to prove themselves. Landon Donovan and Demarcus Beasley were stars in the United States ready to prove themseleves to the world. They attacked relentlessly, they took half chances, they scrapped and ran at defenders fearless, because they had nothing to lose. They played Soccer the way America plays Soccer they were scrappy disjointed and attacking oriented.

On Monday, The hunger was not there, they had already proven they were capable of playing overseas, many were playing on teams in Europe making 10 times as much as they were in the States. There is a big difference in a guy making $100,000 looking to prove themself, and a guy making $3 mil waiting for his next contract to come in. The American players after a few short years in Europe thought they could play like Europeans. They tried to develop play from their backline, which lacked the skill and vision to play decent balls. They slowed down the play to control possession, allowing the Czech team to get 11 defenders behind the ball. They were unwilling to attack and play a fast break. As a result the United States played like shit.

A lot of this was because the Czechs are a great team ranked 2nd in the world. They have great players who are stars on the best teams in Europe. Peter Chec is the best goalie on the most expensive team in Europe Chelsea, Peter Nedved was a World Footballer of the year, and Rosicky just got acquired by champions league finalist Arsenal. They were not a shmuck team, and they controlled the tempo of the game from the first minute. The fact of the matter is no matter what the skill level is, heart and desire can change everything. Teams have already proven that to be true this World Cup.

I did not expect the United States to pull themselves up to the level of the big three, but their performance on Monday did not do anything to help their cause. If the United States wants to earn respect in America, they need to play like Americans. They need to find people who are hungry and want to prove that they can take on anyone. The United States spent 6 months playing with themselves, reminding themselves how good they were. They have a great opportunity this Saturday against an even bigger soccer superpower Italy, its do or die time.

Don't Tread on Me

I'm in love with a speller

2006-06-13T21:23:00.000-07:00

I wrote this like two weeks ago, but I didn't finish it but after a great deal of inquiry and demand for my blog I have finished this opus for you.

It is one of my favorite times in the sports calendar year. Coming shortly after March Madness and the NFL Draft and right before the lull of midseason baseball the World Series of Poker and, Tour De' France we have championship season. Championship season features such great events as the NBA and NHL Playoffs, The World Cup (every four years), and my personal favorite The Spelling Bee.

Yes, the spelling Bee the biggest exploitatition of Children outside the Little League Worlds Series and Star Search. An event where the country gathers together to watch in awe as absolute uber nerds spell words derived from Persian, Hawaiian, Greek, Latin, and Hebrew. It is an event that I have been watching since I learned of its existence on ESPN. I witnessed classic moments like when Rebecca Sealfon used her patented Eskimo hands breathing technique to spell EUNOYM. Then there was last year when the Indian kid passed out on stage from the pressure, but still got up and spelled the word correctly. ABC decided that this incredibly dramatic event could not remain on cable any longer and moved it to Prime Time this year. ABC is dubbing it a great reality television event.

Can you spell E X P L O I T A T I T I O N? ABC is airing event where it pays the talent nothing (scholarships for participants come from other sponsorship organizations) and paying under $100,000 in production costs. Meanwhile they are reaping the benefits of the rest of the country watching half in amazement and half to mock junior braniacs on their quest to be the youngest wonderdork. These are not your average nerds. No these nerds go way above the textbook toting, bug collecting, dragon lords; that you and I may have seen, thrown rocks, at or even been as a child. These are the kinds of nerds whose interests are as diverse as rock collecting, trigonometry problems, and weaning off of their mothers home schooled teat.

ABC does everything they can to exploit the awkwardness of these kids. They surround them with cameras and hold onto long close ups that focus on their awkward braces, thick glasses, unkempt hair, and pubescent mustaches that rival Adam Morrison. They do not make the kids look any better fitting them with the archaic bling of cardboard and yarn with bright yellow and blue nametags. Child after child we see the agonizing process of unlocking the mysteries of silent e's and c's as the child asks questions about the language of origin, definitions, and pronunciations. After they imagine using their arms as canvas’ we watch as they spell, breathing heavily as they yell letter by letter into the microphone. The kids wait in silence only to hear a bell signifying they are eliminated. The cameras close in as they cry and run to the awkward kisses of mommy and daddy. To top it all off we get an interview with seasoned sports analysts, probing them and fully exposing their lack of social skills.

However, this year was different than most other years. Perhaps it was because it was prime time, perhaps it was because of HDTV, but this year the field was more attractive than average. Sure there were your usual suspects of foreigners like Rajiv Tarigopula, and Nidharshan Anadasavium (5 of the last 7 spelling Bee winners are from Indian decent) who got their love of spelling shortly after learning how to spell their names. There were also your nerds who have not learned how to shave, or apply deodorant yet. But this year the finals featured some kids who were normal, and some girls who were potentially attractive. I emphasize potentially because well the oldest competitor is 14 and contrary to popular belief I am not a sexual predator. But as I sat, and saw Saryn Hooks spell Hechscher, (a word so difficult that my spell check does not even recognize it) I felt my heart palpitate a little. She was disqualified and reinstated by the judges, and maybe I got caught up in the drama of the situation but at that moment I fell in love with a speller.

My theory is beauty is relative, a hot girl in Des Moines is nothing compared to a hot girl in Laguna Beach. Amongst the hoard of Dungeon Masters Saryn Hooks looked like a princess. It was not just her slightly curled hair, and her flawless skin. She had a presence an aura of confidence that I have never seen from a speller. She wasted no time, she asked one or two questions and she spelled quickly without hesitation. Although she lost in the championship round placing third overall, she won the most important trophy of them all, my heart.

Episode IV: A New Dope

2006-05-31T21:06:00.000-07:00

I already know what you are thinking, "Oh great, another person putting their thoughts on the internet for no one to read." It is a simple case of economics, there is far too much supply and not nearly enough demand. So why did I create a blog? It is a three part answer. Number one, I have always had the impulse to keep a journal of my thoughts but usually I stop after three or four long entries. My hope is that the potential of someone reading my blog will drive me to keep up with entries. Number two, given that I have friends living across the country now and I figure if they want to know what is going on with my life this is a good way to find out. Number three, like most Americans I feel like my life is inherently more interesting than most other people's and I wish to share my story. Maybe I need attention, maybe I like telling stories, and maybe it will be therapeutic and keep me sane.

To start off I will explain some things about my Blog. First of all the title of my Blog is a figure of speech known as an Irish Bull. The essence of an Irish Bull is to provide a contradiction with a weighty statement that turns out to be absurd after closer examination. In the case of my Blog, Don't blame God; He's only human one such statement that I find to be particularly beautiful.

The title of this post is a thinly veiled parody of Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope. That was actually the first Star Wars that was created. Like George Lucas I might go back and tell some of my back story in future postings, but those stories will probably feature unnecessary details and lack crucial character development.

Things you should expect to read about in my blog:

My post graduate life
My philosophies on the world and my development
Shit that bothers me
My failed attempts at love and war
Crazy shit happening in my family
My un-athletic achievements

As always I will try to keep it entertaining and on the cutting edge of insanity and brilliance. I hope you check in from time to time.