Meow Meows

Earlier this week we welcomed two cats to the family.  It was mentioned that there is a good chance that the cats will still be around when the youngest member of the Delligator clan leaves for college.  Something about that statement made me think about what life might be like in 16 years.

I’ll be 51 years old.  Still not as old as my parents currently are, but damn, any thoughts of still being as good as I once was will have been clearly left behind.  Am I still as good as I once was?  I think to a certain degree, yes.  I can still throw a ball pretty damn hard.  I could probably make 7 out of 10 shots from the free throw line and my golf game, though horrible by many standards, is still more than respectable.  Sure, I’ve “lost a step” and I’ve certainly lost the desire to fall to the ground, but I can still bring it in most things that I used to be pretty damn good at.

Why is it than when reflecting on “if we still got it” seems to almost always revolve around sports? Especially for men.  At this point of my life I’m 10x better at just about everything in life, but the things that seemingly matter most are whether or not I could still throw a frozen rope from the outfield corner to nail some dipshit that thinks they can score on me?  Maybe it’s time for Daddy to stop thinking he’s still that 17 year old and start realizing that he’s a washed up 35 year old.  F-that shit.  I always batted left handed and ended up playing golf right handed (left handed clubs were a luxury that wasn’t able to be afforded).  I shoot low 90’s most days and have been known to dip into the 80’s a few times a year.  I still contend that if given a set of left handed clubs and some free time that I may very well be a scratch player.  The dream of sports supremacy is still alive, bitches!!

There has been an awful lot going on in my life lately.  Some of it would make for great blog fodder, but I haven’t decided whether or not I feel like sharing with you, my loyal readers.  Some things are über personal and others are thoughts that I don’t feel anybody but me would give a shit about.

I randomly associate bands together for no other reason than I happened to listen to them at the same time.  Some bands I never listened to or cared for, but I still feel like you can’t have one without the other.  For example.

Ace of Base + 3rd Base
Rick Astley + Belinda Carlise
Seal + PM Dawn
There are plenty of others but you get the idea, don’t ya?

I damn near gave myself a headache 2 days ago trying to think of a PM Dawn song…any song.  For some reason I could only think of Gin Blossom songs.  It’s important to note that I never owned music from either band and most definitely never will.  For some reason I refused to turn to google for help.  This evening, baby momma, looked for PM Dawn music and played the little “Set adrift on memory bliss” ditty for me.  I was underwhelmed.

I was “super Shawshanked” last sunday(?) night.  As I was going to bed around 10:30 I found myself watching The Shawshank Redemption on AMC.  wouldn’t ya know those sly programmers at AMC showed it again at 11pm.  I desperately wanted to change the channel.  I fought with myself to not watch it.  I did everything I could except change the channel.  I finally drifted off to sleep sometime in the early part of the 1am hour.  I’m still paying for those few lost hours of sleep.

Phillies.  What’s to say?  I still watch ’em.  Pretty much every night.  If it is a band wagon that you fancy yourself one day jumping on, look to another city.  This team has holes that almost can’t be fixed.  Maybe the GM will open the wallet one more time this offseason and grab a difference maker of a player.  I say there’s no way in Hell that happens.  None, Zero, Zilch, Nada.

I recently read “Moneyball” and I’m looking at the game differently these days.  I’m glad I read the book, but I’m almost pissed at what it did with my baseball brain.  This evening, the Phillies were tied 3-3 in the 9th inning when Cody Asche smacked a hit to right field to lead off the inning.  Jimmy Rollins came to the plate next.

All conventional baseball wisdom tells you to bunt here.  You have to get the runner in scoring position.  Kevin Frandsen is standing on the on-deck circle and is a high average, high contact player.  Moving Asche to 2nd while sacrificing an out is what you do.  Right?  Not according to “Moneyball”.  In the world of Moneyball, outs are a commodity that you can never afford to give away (aka Sacrifice).  I fully expect Rollins to bunt…and then the craziest thing happens.  He swings away.  WHAT THE HELL?

Speaking of the Phillies, Tom McCarthy, play-by-play man for the Phils TV crew was absent this evening.  I didn’t catch why, but with no other options, Chris Wheeler went from color analyst to play-by-play announcer for this evening.  I hate Chris Wheeler.  I mean…I despise him actually and to having to listen to his ridiculousness all night was almost unbearable.  Somebody else…somebody with a say in the goings-on in the Phillies hierarchy must know how awful he is.  Harry Kalas was untouchable.  Richie Ashburn, ditto.  Chris Wheeler?  That numbskull is apparently as well.  Where’s Andy Musser when you need him?

I’m coming up on the end of my 2 year no complete clause from my last “real” job at the end of this year.  Might be time to start sending my resume to the competitors.  Could be fun to see if anybody would make a move on me.

That’s all for now kiddies.

 

Movies that we must watch – aka “The Shawshank Syndrome”

My beloved business partner and I have coined the phrase “Shawshank Syndrome”.  It refers to any movie that comes on the TV that you cannot pull yourself away from no matter how many times you’ve seen it. No matter if it is on a station with commercials. No matter if it’s on Comedy Central who takes more commercial breaks than any other station.  The point is, if it’s on, you’re watching and ain’t nothing else getting in your way.

Biz Partner – “did you get those bids over to the Realtor today?”
Me – “Not yet.  I got Shawshanked by “Executive Decision”.
Biz Partner – (Shaking his head) “Christ…again???”
Me – “I was hoping Steven Segal actually made it to the plane this time”
Biz Partner – “You know he dies.  Just like Goose.  Goose always dies”
Me – “I need to watch Top Gun.  He might make it this time”.

Here’s my top ten:

1.  The Shawshank Redemption
2.  Any “Meet the Parents” movie
3.  Bad Boys I or II
4. The Fast and the Furious or 2 Fast 2 Furious
5.  The Birdcage
6.  Escape From Alcatraz (sonofabitch stopped me twice the week)
7.  Any early Adam Sandler movie (Billy Madison, Happy Gilmore, The Wedding Singer)
8.  Stripes
9.  Any Nic Cage Movie (Any!  ’nuff said?)
10.  Ocean’s 11, 12 or 13

There are about 20 others that deserve to be on the list.  What are your’s?

A small piece of me is gone

Recently, I sold my metal detector.  I rarely used it, but I always enjoyed being a guy who owned a metal detector.  I was incredibly conscious of the social stigma that came along with being a metal detecting enthusiast.  It made me a nerd.  It made me the weird guy wearing big headphones digging for people’s lost pocket change.  It immediately made me uncool, no matter the context.  It made me the butt of jokes and so on and so forth, but it made ME happy.

I loved pulling anything out of the ground.  Sure, loose change was always fine and it paid for plenty of sodas in the office back in the day, but it was the oddball stuff that I loved finding more than anything.  I never found any expensive jewelry but I found plenty of little bits of costume jewelry.  I found buttons from suit coats and tons of zipper pulls.  Every time I found something like that I would instantly start to wonder what must have been going through the person’s mind that lost the trinket.  Did a man go crazy for a week trying to find the brass button to his favorite jacket?  Did a young child fear getting in trouble for breaking the zipper on their coat or pants?  Answers that could never be answered but left plenty to the imagination.

Now that it’s gone, a small piece of me is too.  I suppose I’m “that much” less of a nerd (even though I still know how fast the Millenium Falcon made the Kessel run) than I was last month.  I’m sure I’ll buy another one again one day and I’ll regain my rightful nerd status.  Maybe I’ll even wear a straw hat and a fishing vest this time.

The point to all of this is…  Do what makes you happy folks.  Sometimes it isn’t glamorous or even something that you wouldn’t want people to know about, but it makes you smile at the end of the night.  Sometimes I think we worry too much about society and it’s definition of cool, especially in the digital world where we’re seemingly endlessly connected to one and other.  Stop living for the better judgement from others and worry about what makes you happy.  Go metal detecting.  Knit until your fingers bleed.  Tie flies for fly fishing or build birdhouses in your shed.  Go to museums and watch bad movies.  Go ahead and watch Old Yeller.  There’s a reason people reference it all of the time…its a hell of a good movie.  The problem is, you’re scared shitless to let your coworkers or family know that you watched it last night.  F that noise.

Good night, gang.

(The Kessel Run references a trade route in Star Wars that typically took 18 parsecs to complete.  The Millenium Falcon made the run in “under 12 parsecs”.  Pretty damn fast)