Tuesday, June 07, 2005

Weekend Redux

Weekends are a mutha.

I've been running all of my life. Not in the metaphorical sense, just - I'm a runner. Not a good one, mind you. But a runner. I've done the 5,10K's, the marathons, whatever. Anyways, in high school, I sucked. I was mid-20's for my 5K. No matter what I did, I could rarely get sub-20's, I just didn't have repeat 6 min. miles. So I accepted that, I was just a runner, not a good runner.

Later, in college, I continued doing the 5K's with friends, and it was painfully obvious that my times had declined ( I wasn't training, I was drinking the booze, whatever). My 5K's were now in the 23;30-25 minutes range. I wasn't uncomfortable with this, what am I trying to prove?

Post-college brought a bad knee, poor circulation to the feet, and the desire to run was dwindling. I joined a gym for the rehab, experimented with shoes, and finally felt really healthy heading into late winter, spring. My brother's gf wasked me to join her and a friend in a race on the U campus. Being a favorite race, I joined not expecting much from my run. I've been running more, but not training.

The results were amazing, a winter of weightlifting, rehabbing, got me back down to 21:15. I'll take the 7 minute splits, not earth shattering, but I'm closer to my high school times. I'm thinking by the end of the summer, I could go sub 20, I just had to learn how to weightlift properly and take care of my body properly (minus the booze, I'm not gonna stop).

Downside, I waited almost 10 minutes for my co-runners to come in, in a sterady rain. It didn't really matter, the weekend can be summed up by being soaking wet. Details of Sunday's fiasco tomorrow.

Tuesday, May 31, 2005

4:38

Bob Geldof wants to do it again. He the innovator behind Live Aid brought the attention of famine in Africa by staging concerts concurrently at RFK Stadium in DC and at Wembley Stadium in London. I think, although I was young, that it did have an impact on people, it did raise $100 million dollars for the famine in Ethiopia. Playing at the concerts was a who's who, remants of Zeppelin, Neil Young, Dlyan, Tom Petty, Bowie, the Who, Elvis Costello, Madonna, etc.

So who Geldof, has gotten even more ambitious, and I repsect that, he's setting stages in Phili, London, Rome, Paris, Berlin, with hopes for Canada, Russia, and Japan. Here's my concern. I believe the world show's concern over the amount of poverty striking Africa (and other third world nations). But how much to American's care anymore. We seem like a "gimme gimme" country nowadays, we are a nation of apathesists. People apear to be isolationist and selfish, two definite strikes against charity. Beyond that, suppose Live 8 (after the G8 summit taking place 2 days after the concert) does bring hundreds of thousands of people out to listen to music and discuss the neglect in Africa. What does G8 care? Will they do anything, would our president do anything? Doubt it. U2, as strong an advocate on third world poverty as anyone (say what you will about ticket costs) proposes a 1% plan. By increasing donations by 1% in the nations budget will help immeasurably. The 1% increase is tiny compared to the budget for defense every year. Will it happen. Nope.

So like other charities I believe in, I will donate, and I hope others will donate to the cause, because let's be obvious, our government, and it is ours, won't be doing it.

So if it takes some great musicians coming together to get others to be charitable I'm cool with that. Pink Floyd is apparently reuniting for this, showing what sort of affect poverty in Third World Nations has on them, they'd reunite for this, hell is freezing over.

Thursday, May 26, 2005

Gazoo

You remember the Great Gazoo, he was the little green alien who visited the Flintstones and the Jetsons. I was thinking, I need the Great Gazoo at all times, he could 'poof' in and out of situations but still be omnipresent. That way when I do something incredibly stupid, he can pop in and tell me not to, really he's another set of eyes to keep my subconscience, my gut, on the level. I have realized, like Rob Gordon (J Cusack) in High Fidelity, that "I've come to the conclusion that my guts have shit for brains." I need not go in the explanation of the most recent event, but from a lifetime of previous moments everyone has pertty much come to that conclusion already.

Random Items for Thursday.

-Torii Hunter's uppercut swing baffles me. He looks like Glass Joe in Punchout , and everytime it looks like he hits rock bottom, he hits a massive homerun that shuts everyone up for a few days.

-I have an office with a view of the Minnesota River, turkeys, deer, and hawks, and we're selling this place to a catholic school. Great, the children will be getting rulers over their hands cause it's so damn beautiful outside a lot more than normal.

-"Being There" by Jerzy Kosinski - great short read, a man with no past, and little intelligence risese the ranks of political power by using his only bit of knowlege, gardening.

-Top Three picks in one draft('92) all play for the same team. Shaq, Zo, and Christian Laetnner all play for the Heat. Differences, as Laettner said once in the lockerroom pointing to evertyone else then himself - "loser, loser, winner"

-I personally have a sickness, and the only cure is more cowbell.

Monday, May 23, 2005

left looking at holes in the wall

yeah, so i'm negligent in updating this damn thing. I haven't had the time to do so.
My cube farm was deconstructed today. All the cubes are gone, our building is down to 8 people so they did some rearranging, I now have a real office type office. It's so cheesy, but I like having a door, and the other 7 people cannot walk by and see that I'm playing freecell...Life is good. So for atleast a little while I feel like I'm a big guy around the office. But there's so few of us, no one notices, which is probably just as well, my ego barely fits in the door to begin with.

Back in the day growing up a close friend of mine would have long discussions over coffee (tea for me) abut life plans. This was the middle of the angst ridden adolescence period. Everyone was anti everything, pro-Cobain and pro-depression. I knew these people well, and had a rosier disposition, which I stil have, just look harder. The idea was, I knew what I wanted, and I was going to get it one way or another. I told her, "Listen, I'm a scientist who can handle things well. I'll end up getting the office, be in management, have the house with the garden, and all will be ok." I don't think my opinion has changed much, I don't think my general personality has either, it's funny cause she liked my honestly and awareness of self, yet she wasn't honest with herself, because she was as transparent as I. She ended up the way I told her she would, I can tell these things.

I mention this only cause I have the office, I manage someone, and I tend my grandma's garden. Maybe someday I will have a real permanent office, and ne in real managment, and have my own garden, but I'm on my way.

Tuesday, May 10, 2005

Garage Doors

You know what the wonderful thing about garage doors are? They are so simple to use. There's that nice button right next door, a simple push, garage door goes up and/or down depending on which way you are going. You know what is so wonderfully asinine about that? Doogie hasn't quite figured out the simplistic nature of it. I figured out he hasn't got it, because he cannot pull his car into the garage, seeing as how beer pong is set up for the summer. The result, he opens the garage, walks in, goes inside, while never ever closing the garage door. Normally this wouldn't bother me. Today it does. I had a race this upcoming weekend. I say had, because, well someone decided to walk into the garage and ride off with a bike, it was red, had aero bars, an avocet computer, 7 gears in back, 2 up front, and front brakes that probably should be replaced, I hope the new owner will take care of them, lest something should happen to them. Great fucking start to a day.

h

Monday, May 09, 2005

Sparetires, beer pong, and long walks on the beach

I went ahead and bought a Paintball gun last week. Why? I'm going to be playing a lot this summer and I thought, what the heck I'd love to have a gun. It's awesome, semi-auto, dual trigger, and I've got camo tape all over it, so it blends into the surroundings, like I'm supposed to.

Saturday morning I wake up and head out to Sconsin for some paintball at a guy's farm. Fantastic, the guy buys paintballs in bulk, and rents a CO2 cylinder so it's all out on the farm set to go. I've got my cammo on, and I'm set, except for the gun not working and all, cause I'm a dumbass. I get a sawed-off paintball shotgun essentially that sounds lime howitzer, the eliminate of surprise is gone after shot one. Good times are had as I try and run away after misfiring often, a couple of welts in the old lovetire region prove that I am indeed not faster than the bullet. Next time, gun will be ready, and it's on, mother f'ers are going down.

Feeling like a train wreck after playing all after noon, it was time to hunker down in front of the BBQ and have at it one more time. Friday night BBQ was a success in uptown, and it was going to be a success in GV. Chicken, burgers, brats, it was all good that evening, and the garage has been cleared out for the summer to prepare for BEER PONG. That's right, every weekend, all summer one must play a couple rounds of Beer Pong before heading out. The rules, simple, it's caps, on a ping-pong table, with a ping bong, get it in the cup, make the other team drink. Teams of two are now being formed, please send me your waiver form and partner. If you do not have a partner the BPL (Beer Pong League) will set one up for you at no cost. Come prepared, I've already seen a torn ACL, Beer Pong is not for the faint of heart.

With a belly full of BBQ and time on my hand, Uptown was the place to be. Results: The CC Club is fucked with the smoking ban. I love the place, but they won't make it without smokers, it was almost empty on a Saturday night, when with smoking you couldn't find a place to stand. It's too bad. So making the short walk to VFW proved useful, if you have not been to the Uptown, do so. Makes for a good evening with interesting people.

Tuesday, May 03, 2005

Religious Right, 2Blocks of Hell, and Intimal Hyperplasia

With new shoes in hand I was on the afternoon flight to Memphis, laptop in hand, suit in luggage, and a pocket full of cash that I'd get reimbursed for. I ate like a king, not like the Burger King, that dude scares me, but I ate well. Rendezvous Ribs, best ribs in town. We get there for dinner around 6, which is early for the business trip and the line runs all over the damn restaurant.
"Perhaps you'd like to wait upstairs in the bar until we call your name" the lovely hostess tells us. Perhaps we will, and perhaps we drink a couple pitchers while we're there. Done and done.

Our group is called, the five intrepid company employees shanghai'd in Memphis. Small talk is made once again; how were your conferences blah blah blah - great discussion on intimal hyperplasia when the waiter notices we haven't been taken care of, looks at us and concludes
"Two pitchers, and I'll be back to take your order." Love it, this guy has been working so long he knows what people want.
A pair of pitchers containing Michelob _______ were brought and he simply goes around the table and once again points at each of us and says "One...two...three...four five, five orders - anything else? Besides two more pitchers?" Fantastic, this guy needs to go on tour, he knows our goal, heavy drinking, and gluttonous eating.

After the greatest rib meal ever, it's time for Beale St...I'm a little worried, it's still early (about 8:30), and the party goes all night down there. The big 'G' up in the sky helped us out by delivering rain of scary proportions to five drunks. "Perhaps we should wait in the bar until we're ready" I opine, continuing the 'perhaps' thread. Sure enough, four to six pithcers later, who's counting, we are ready for Beale St and perfect it's 10:30.

The interesting thing about Beale St, besides the fact that I'm spending an evening with four people I don't know but have to show up for work with, is that it is two blocks long. Literally. Bourbon Street's got some length to it, it is also way more adult xxx oriented. Beale is the calmer place to be. Bourbon has the jazz, Beale has the blues. Bourbon has the hot dog vendors all over the place, Beale has a cop substation smack dab in the middle of it all, and it's open 24/7 to stop in and say hi, or stop in and get a public disorderly tik.

So I stop in and say hello to the friendly cops working the beat. The cop and I are jibber-jabbering about Memphis and he walks me outside and says

"ya'll take a looky at dis"
"what the hell is with the protest?" Sure enough, 200 people are lined on Beale to pray for our souls, holding up signs, telling us JC died for sins past, present, future, etc.
"public street, they can do wateva they want"
"why this weekend?" i drunkenly inquire - clearly it's not because Society of Biomaterials is present
"all ya'll brought 'em out"
"what? there's like a conference of 1000, not worth it in my opinion"
"nope, you brought 'em out, Memphis just wanted to show all ya'll Yankees a good time"
"thanks, i'm gonna stroll to the next bar, you all have a nice night, have fun with the drunken idiots"
"enjoy memphis"

Who says southern white cops don't have a sense of humor?

A New Beginning

So I don't like LJ anymore so I'm going to stop writing for it, so I'm moving over here were Boof resides. Boof, the old roommate, has a restraining order out on him to stay at least 20 miles from me, the court docs are being sent over, so enjoy.

Now the story of awkwardness and business casual for Memphis....

Backstory - I'm a moron.
With the stated I can carry on. I get an e-mail from an ex about a deal on a great pair of shoes. I liked the role of being friendly over e-mail but never meeting cause well we broke up. But now I get a question about whether I need new shoes or not. I need new shoes, and I find out about a sale on shoes. Fantastic, yeah tell me about the deal. Trap...set. "oh" she says, "they're x% off but I get a worker discount so they'll be like 75% off. I'll buy the pair you need and you can pay me back" Trap...sprung. So I need a new pair of shoes for a conference in Memphis, TN. It's business casual and I lack business casual apparell.

Fuck. I'm fucked. She's gonna buy the shoes and we're going to have to meet. It'll be awkward and I won't want to be there, and she's gonna dig for information on personal life, and I'll have to lie to give the answers she wants to avoid oddness.

An evening in personal hell been set so I can save like $70 on shoes. Is it worth it, I'm not sure, I hate buying shoes or all clothes for that matter, I'm no good at it, and I generally need a women's guidance in selecting the right clothes for the proper occasion. I'm a nice guy and set up the meeting. Girl walks in at set location and all the bad memories flooded back to me, like Drago's punches in the first round of Rocky IV. Err, saving the money wasn't going to be worth it.

Dinner was lovely, I was tightlipped more than normal, avoiding all questions 'me' related because I wasn't sure what she wanted to hear. My spidey sense were tingling, I was in immenent danger. Questions become more and more personal, and I wa lying through my teeth to move the night along, hopefully to check and payment, and homeward bound with a new pair of shoes.

Bad news, she wants to go watch a movie, I'm like no thanks, I don't want to go out, and she's all, lets just rent a flick then and chill out. Game, set, match, I'm fucked. DVD player in the house is in my room. See where I'm going with this? Ocean's Twelve later, and I've avoided any sexual contact and the awkwardness is floating in the air. I brush off the attempt at physical intimacy, write a check for the shoes, and say I'm tired and need to get up early to go to work for a client meeting. It was the truth, but a shady truth.

Mission accomplished, nice shoes on the cheap, I didn't backslide with an ex, got dinner, watched a movie, and went to bed at a reasonable hour. Why couldn't I not see the game in front of me? Instead I thought about a cheap pair of shoes and had a night full of weirdness and awkwardness.

Plus side - I haven't talked to her since that fateful evening, and I don't on any future play-dates.

Tomorrow - Memphis, the religious right, Yankees, and the cops on Beale St.