so we all decided to drive to paso robles, dine in a cave, and wear weird shirts that only persians would understand.
Sunday, February 5, 2006
paso robles
said turned 60
so we all decided to drive to paso robles, dine in a cave, and wear weird shirts that only persians would understand.
so we all decided to drive to paso robles, dine in a cave, and wear weird shirts that only persians would understand.
Friday, February 3, 2006
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
sig events oatmeal
each week we have to note our "significant events" apparently mine were morphed out of a bowl of oatmeal.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
steel elephant
i was in a meeting, and someone mentioned a person's name "steel elephant". that was his name. i joke you not. here's what my pen immediately did.
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Saturday, January 21, 2006
football dancing
football dancing
among my friends, i’m the only one who doesn’t fit in. well, i don’t fit in when it comes to football. my friends play fantasy football, and compete against each other for cash prizes. i sit on the sidelines and ride the fantasy pine while they talk about players, rushing yards, sacks, and stats. thing is, of all the football following friends of mine, i’m the only one who actually played football.
the game of football is one thing, the drama of football is another. who said what, about who, when, and why, seems to be half or more than half of the conversations surrounding pro sports. sports to me have turned into a drama more than an exhibition of competition. the game’s focus is not just 60 minutes of play anymore, it’s the other 167 hours of the week that get most of the attention.
that brings me to a key word here: game. this is a game. we’re looking for game, not a drama. he said, he said sh*t is for daytime t.v.. 11 guys beating out 11 other guys for bragging rights and a trophy is a game.
due to the chicago bears making the playoffs this season, i’ve found myself back in the nfl following (just a bit). since i was born in a suburb of chi-town, i’m a fan.
hence, i’ve been watching and noticing that some of the players dance when they score, some don’t. there was a huge thing years ago, back in the late 80’s - 90’s, where dancing after scoring went under the microscope.
my grandmother (the wisconsin side, not the persian side) used to hate hate hate when players celebrated after scoring. she hated when players spiked the ball. players were unprofessional for celebrating after scoring in her opinion. initially i took my grandmother’s side on this issue. these players get paid buckets of cash to play a game. for them to call unnecessary attention to themselves after scoring is plain o’l unprofessional.
i agreed with grandma… until i played football.
granted i was the kicker for my first season, i did hold a place on junior varsity football for two consecutive years. #36, me, punter, place kicker, and eventually outside linebacker on the strong side.
grandmother never played a game of football. she never felt the rush when that running back’s eyes locked on mine seconds before i layed him backside down on the grass. she never experienced the rush that hit me when i got a hold of that carrier’s football and stripped it away from him. she’s never sat at the bottom of a 10+ person dog-pile, cradling a football in the fetal position while the opposition gave indian burns, titty twisters, hocked loogies, and told me how good my mother was in bed the previous night.
football is a game. the teams are comprised of players. examining these words carefully i see those same words are found in most 5-year-old’s vocabulary. the concept of game is somewhat lost with my grandmother’s generation’s view.
i remember vividly, my very first game. i stood on the sidelines next to allen, a veteran football player in comparison. we were starting the opening drive, and on 2nd down we gained 10 yards! allen jumped up and screamed in excitement. i had never seen him so enthusiastic. “geez man, calm down allen” i said. “what?? calm down? this is a football game!?”
and that’s when it hit me.
that’s what the game is about. excitement! the rush! striving to achieve a reason to dance, spike the ball, jump into the stands, show the world: ‘damn it, i feel good!’
now soccer players have always danced, celebrated, ripped their shirts off and screamed at the top of their lungs –after scoring a much needed goal. hell, you would too if you were running constantly for two 45+ minute sessions and only 1 goal was scored all game. you almost owe the audience and your teammates a little show of enthusiasm. why not in football?
among my friends, i’m the only one who doesn’t fit in. well, i don’t fit in when it comes to football. my friends play fantasy football, and compete against each other for cash prizes. i sit on the sidelines and ride the fantasy pine while they talk about players, rushing yards, sacks, and stats. thing is, of all the football following friends of mine, i’m the only one who actually played football.the game of football is one thing, the drama of football is another. who said what, about who, when, and why, seems to be half or more than half of the conversations surrounding pro sports. sports to me have turned into a drama more than an exhibition of competition. the game’s focus is not just 60 minutes of play anymore, it’s the other 167 hours of the week that get most of the attention.
that brings me to a key word here: game. this is a game. we’re looking for game, not a drama. he said, he said sh*t is for daytime t.v.. 11 guys beating out 11 other guys for bragging rights and a trophy is a game.
due to the chicago bears making the playoffs this season, i’ve found myself back in the nfl following (just a bit). since i was born in a suburb of chi-town, i’m a fan.
hence, i’ve been watching and noticing that some of the players dance when they score, some don’t. there was a huge thing years ago, back in the late 80’s - 90’s, where dancing after scoring went under the microscope.
my grandmother (the wisconsin side, not the persian side) used to hate hate hate when players celebrated after scoring. she hated when players spiked the ball. players were unprofessional for celebrating after scoring in her opinion. initially i took my grandmother’s side on this issue. these players get paid buckets of cash to play a game. for them to call unnecessary attention to themselves after scoring is plain o’l unprofessional.
i agreed with grandma… until i played football.
granted i was the kicker for my first season, i did hold a place on junior varsity football for two consecutive years. #36, me, punter, place kicker, and eventually outside linebacker on the strong side.
grandmother never played a game of football. she never felt the rush when that running back’s eyes locked on mine seconds before i layed him backside down on the grass. she never experienced the rush that hit me when i got a hold of that carrier’s football and stripped it away from him. she’s never sat at the bottom of a 10+ person dog-pile, cradling a football in the fetal position while the opposition gave indian burns, titty twisters, hocked loogies, and told me how good my mother was in bed the previous night.
football is a game. the teams are comprised of players. examining these words carefully i see those same words are found in most 5-year-old’s vocabulary. the concept of game is somewhat lost with my grandmother’s generation’s view.
i remember vividly, my very first game. i stood on the sidelines next to allen, a veteran football player in comparison. we were starting the opening drive, and on 2nd down we gained 10 yards! allen jumped up and screamed in excitement. i had never seen him so enthusiastic. “geez man, calm down allen” i said. “what?? calm down? this is a football game!?”
and that’s when it hit me.
that’s what the game is about. excitement! the rush! striving to achieve a reason to dance, spike the ball, jump into the stands, show the world: ‘damn it, i feel good!’
now soccer players have always danced, celebrated, ripped their shirts off and screamed at the top of their lungs –after scoring a much needed goal. hell, you would too if you were running constantly for two 45+ minute sessions and only 1 goal was scored all game. you almost owe the audience and your teammates a little show of enthusiasm. why not in football?
Friday, January 20, 2006
sombrero 'j'
sometimes 'j'anuary likes to wear a sombrero. and what's the point of wearing a sombrero without tassels?
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Tuesday, January 3, 2006
Thursday, December 29, 2005
finish your food
finish your food
i have many asian friends. i also live with two asian people, one boy, one girl. so i can say with confidence that i have eaten with asian people plenty of times.
one thing i’ve picked up on, is what i like to call “the ritual of the last piece”. this phenomenon occurs only when food is being shared aka family style. everyone has their own personal plate, but the food is dished from main serving plates located at a central location.
when the food portions start to dwindle, i’ve noticed that the plate with the most food is attacked first, and the plates that are just about finished are left alone.
if there’s one dumpling left on a huge plate, it will sit and sit while everyone eats at the fried rice plate that’s still heaping. soon we’re left with 4-5 plates with very little food left on each.
this is what kills me. then my asian friends will cut things in half, claiming that they can only eat half of the dumpling that’s left. then that half will be halved by someone else, leaving a quarter of a dumpling.
being the perceptive person that i am, i finally picked up that it’s deemed somewhat rude to finish the last piece/bite/morsel of some dish when everyone is sharing. if you ate 25 dumplings and there were only 30 to begin with, no problem. if you eat the last dumpling without halving it (even if it’s your first one) then disgrace on your house and may your crops fail next year!!
now there is a way that you can get around finishing a that last bit of food. someone has to instruct you. “frank, here, eat the last won ton”. frank is in the clear! may sunshine forever follow him on his worldly journeys, frank had permission to eat the last one!
this game was invisible to me for many years. i was the rude cleanup king. i’d just pick up the last dumpling and shove it in my mouth before it could sit and get cold, then halved, then quartered.
i feel that since i wasn’t raised asian, i can get away with breaking the rules. i claimed ignorance up until now. now i am aware, and declare myself exempt from “the ritual of the last piece”.
maybe back in china 2000bc food was scarce and everyone needed to eat just one dumpling or else they’d starve or die. in 2005 soon to be 2006, i can’t name a friend who hasn’t said to me that they feel they could stand to lose a pound or ten. so what is this tradition still doing around here?
it’s like people who call mobile phones, ‘cell phones’. the cell phone is dead, it died with zack morris’s brick-for-a-phone. all phones are digital now, hence my reference to them as mobile phones. but cell phone is still the preferred name by 99% of the population. but the name stuck and stays with us here today, as does “the ritual of the last piece”
i have many asian friends. i also live with two asian people, one boy, one girl. so i can say with confidence that i have eaten with asian people plenty of times.one thing i’ve picked up on, is what i like to call “the ritual of the last piece”. this phenomenon occurs only when food is being shared aka family style. everyone has their own personal plate, but the food is dished from main serving plates located at a central location.
when the food portions start to dwindle, i’ve noticed that the plate with the most food is attacked first, and the plates that are just about finished are left alone.
if there’s one dumpling left on a huge plate, it will sit and sit while everyone eats at the fried rice plate that’s still heaping. soon we’re left with 4-5 plates with very little food left on each.
this is what kills me. then my asian friends will cut things in half, claiming that they can only eat half of the dumpling that’s left. then that half will be halved by someone else, leaving a quarter of a dumpling.
being the perceptive person that i am, i finally picked up that it’s deemed somewhat rude to finish the last piece/bite/morsel of some dish when everyone is sharing. if you ate 25 dumplings and there were only 30 to begin with, no problem. if you eat the last dumpling without halving it (even if it’s your first one) then disgrace on your house and may your crops fail next year!!
now there is a way that you can get around finishing a that last bit of food. someone has to instruct you. “frank, here, eat the last won ton”. frank is in the clear! may sunshine forever follow him on his worldly journeys, frank had permission to eat the last one!
this game was invisible to me for many years. i was the rude cleanup king. i’d just pick up the last dumpling and shove it in my mouth before it could sit and get cold, then halved, then quartered.
i feel that since i wasn’t raised asian, i can get away with breaking the rules. i claimed ignorance up until now. now i am aware, and declare myself exempt from “the ritual of the last piece”.
maybe back in china 2000bc food was scarce and everyone needed to eat just one dumpling or else they’d starve or die. in 2005 soon to be 2006, i can’t name a friend who hasn’t said to me that they feel they could stand to lose a pound or ten. so what is this tradition still doing around here?
it’s like people who call mobile phones, ‘cell phones’. the cell phone is dead, it died with zack morris’s brick-for-a-phone. all phones are digital now, hence my reference to them as mobile phones. but cell phone is still the preferred name by 99% of the population. but the name stuck and stays with us here today, as does “the ritual of the last piece”
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