Man that was a great season premiere of the Office. Lots of bombs dropped. I can't get enough of that show. Aside from Curb Your Enthusiasm (which I can't watch anyway because I don't have fancy HBO), best show still making new episodes on TV.
Okay, now that I've got that out of my system, I was thinking yesterday about how different my life is from one year ago. I went through this thing with my friends every summer where we'd talk about how life-changing the next year of our existence was going to be. I had to have had this conversation with Coates on at least three separate occasions. We loved to talk about this shit. You know what though? Not much ever really happened. We continued onward in school or at work and did the same shit. There's nothing wrong with that, and I absolutely love the fact that I have been able to maintain a strong core of great friends that I've had since high school. I actually even had the great opportunity to add a few more good ones. How about that?
Anyway, this past year has been a whirlwind, some good, some bad, and I thought I'd take this time to reflect.
-I haven't played music in like a year. I was in a semi-serious band for five years. We gave a shit a lot more at the beginning, and even gained a little notoriety. But we began going through the motions near the end. This was kind of obvious to me, and it was probably time to hang it up, but I definitely miss it. Our last show was 9/08/07, and I've gotten together with a group of people to "jam" (I loathe saying that) just once...once. This is a bad change from the past year. Time to get it going again.
-I don't live in Cincinnati anymore. Did anyone notice? Partially facilitated by the band breaking up and getting my master's degree (get to that in a second), I skipped town. I had talked about this for a while and just felt like it was something I needed to do for my own peace of mind. Love Cincinnati, always will. Strangely enough, though, I've kind of got it all right up here. Good job at an alternative newsweekly in the music section (don't feel like making a separate entry for this one. I worked at American Apparel and now I work at the Chicago Reader. Biggest difference? I don't have daydreams about stabbing myself in the neck with a letter opener), decent living expenses, enough friends to keep me occupied, and tons more shit to do to the point where it's actually kind of overwhelming. I got to at least one show a week, usually two. I went to three last weekend. Every band worth a shit comes through here. Quite different from Cincinnati.
-I have a fucking my master's degree. This was one of the hardest and most rewarding things I have ever accomplished, and I 'll be goddamned if I'm not completely proud of myself. If anyone ever wants to discuss the epistolary conventions in Shakespeare's King Lear or the masturbatory impulses and metaphors littered throughout the modern American classic the Day of the Locust hit me up. Oh, and that's right I just dropped a bunch of shit that makes me seem academic. Too fucking bad. I wrote one too many 30 pages papers not to at least prove that I know a little.
-I'm actually kind of involved in my community. I loved Riddle Road more than life itself, but did I ever really do anything for it aside from spending thousands of dollars at the neighborhood's mainstay, it's lifeline, the Riddle Road Market? Not really. Tonight, I went to a membership meeting for the Dill Pickle Food Co-Op, a soon to be up and running co-op (just signed the lease to the space!) that I've been a member of since I moved here and volunteer for on a regular basis. It's kind of nice to feel like you're doing things for the community...sounds ridiculous right? I also kind of give a shit about what happens in Logan Square, hence the affiliation with the food co-op. It's the first place I've really known well outside of Cincinnati, and I kind of take pride in that and care about it. Shocking.
-Things that haven't changed: I still know more than you about sports, am still the reigning king of Seinfeld trivia (ask Kenny), still part my hair on the left side, still make a big ass breakfast when I wake up in the morning, still grudgingly exercise, still can't grow facial hair. These are constants. These are forevers.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Eating Slop.
I recently went out to eat with Kenny (who decided to visit me because he's great), Zach, and Allison. We went to Ethiopian Diamond, and it was delicious. If you haven't had Ethiopian before, it's basically fantastic slop placed on a huge platter, and you're give skin-like bread to scoop it up with...no utensils required. Zach and I always seem to discuss our collective affinity for eating an amalgamation of different foods in an almost disastrous, gelatinous form, and this was no different. It got me thinking about all of the great food that comes in slop form, and how much I love it.
Mexican food - This is obvious. If you throw a bunch of black beans, onions, peppers, tofu (or meat if you like that shit), guacamole, hot sauce, garlic, and whatever else strikes you into a big fucking skillet and cook it...you win. Then you place it in a nice tortilla shell, and you have Mexican food. Zach and I make this meal probably three times a week because it's quick, easy, and not completely terrible for you. Go out to a traditional Mexican food restaurant and it's really just a bunch of slop thrown together on a plate with each section separated by a thin layer of air. Eventually, everything all comes together...it's unavoidable, and I could eat it all with a spoon.
Indian food - Can't beat it. Give me some rice, and a fine dish of cream, oil, spinach, cheese, mushrooms, and some hot ass spices, and I'll be damned if I'm not going to mix all that shit together and dip some goddamn bread in it and tear it apart. I'm not good at making Indian food, which is a bummer, but I will always jump at the chance to go eat it. One thing I definitely miss about Cincinnati is our regular Friday night Indian food trips to Apna, in which we would all get way too much food and eventually begin mixing all of our dishes together because who gives a shit? It's all delicious slop. I don't know how it's made (and really what's in it) or what the fuck is going on back in that kitchen, but I'll eat it all. Great.
Thai food - Same deal. Just add noodles. I'm just trying to pigeonhole cultural dishes here as much as possible...right? Anyway, it's just a big wilderness of spicy shit intertwined between tender noodles. Pad thai? Yep, give it to me, and add as many nuts as possible. I like fried tofu, egg, mushrooms, peppers, and some authentic spices prepared by an old Thai woman and tossed on a big pile of carbohydrates...who doesn't?
Breakfast food - This may be different for others, but when I wake up, I like to make a real breakfast. Not much of a cereal guy. I basically wake up an hour before I have to for the sake of breakfast. The whole deal...hashbrowns, fake sausage, toast...maybe some faux bacon too. Whatever. It doesn't matter. Because guess what happens? I really just mix it all together, so that I can solidify my love for slop on a plate. Isn't mixing a bunch of things together better than eating them separately. Would I rather have three or four good sides, which I can eat individually and enjoy, or construct a massive cornucopia of euphoric ingredients that I can eat as a whole? I choose the latter.
I love eating food.
Mexican food - This is obvious. If you throw a bunch of black beans, onions, peppers, tofu (or meat if you like that shit), guacamole, hot sauce, garlic, and whatever else strikes you into a big fucking skillet and cook it...you win. Then you place it in a nice tortilla shell, and you have Mexican food. Zach and I make this meal probably three times a week because it's quick, easy, and not completely terrible for you. Go out to a traditional Mexican food restaurant and it's really just a bunch of slop thrown together on a plate with each section separated by a thin layer of air. Eventually, everything all comes together...it's unavoidable, and I could eat it all with a spoon.
Indian food - Can't beat it. Give me some rice, and a fine dish of cream, oil, spinach, cheese, mushrooms, and some hot ass spices, and I'll be damned if I'm not going to mix all that shit together and dip some goddamn bread in it and tear it apart. I'm not good at making Indian food, which is a bummer, but I will always jump at the chance to go eat it. One thing I definitely miss about Cincinnati is our regular Friday night Indian food trips to Apna, in which we would all get way too much food and eventually begin mixing all of our dishes together because who gives a shit? It's all delicious slop. I don't know how it's made (and really what's in it) or what the fuck is going on back in that kitchen, but I'll eat it all. Great.
Thai food - Same deal. Just add noodles. I'm just trying to pigeonhole cultural dishes here as much as possible...right? Anyway, it's just a big wilderness of spicy shit intertwined between tender noodles. Pad thai? Yep, give it to me, and add as many nuts as possible. I like fried tofu, egg, mushrooms, peppers, and some authentic spices prepared by an old Thai woman and tossed on a big pile of carbohydrates...who doesn't?
Breakfast food - This may be different for others, but when I wake up, I like to make a real breakfast. Not much of a cereal guy. I basically wake up an hour before I have to for the sake of breakfast. The whole deal...hashbrowns, fake sausage, toast...maybe some faux bacon too. Whatever. It doesn't matter. Because guess what happens? I really just mix it all together, so that I can solidify my love for slop on a plate. Isn't mixing a bunch of things together better than eating them separately. Would I rather have three or four good sides, which I can eat individually and enjoy, or construct a massive cornucopia of euphoric ingredients that I can eat as a whole? I choose the latter.
I love eating food.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
How Can I Not Talk About It?
Football. As another disappointing Reds season winds down, football begins to take precedent. Let me preface this, however, with the fact that the 2006 year was probably the best in most recent memory for Cincinnati sports. Particularly because the Reds played over their heads most of the season and made it interesting to be a sports fan in late August/early September. It was enigmatic year for Cincinnati sports. The Reds were in the hunt for the Wild Card (before they choked it away), and the Bengals were coming off their first playoff appearance in years. I dispel this as a fluke though, which will now allow me to continue towards my initial discussion. Football.
Football brings out the fake sports fans, God love them. People who just can't handle the vicious ups and down one must endure throughout the entire sports year in order to truly call himself or herself a sports fan. Football's one day a week (well two...well three), and doesn't take as much plot deconstructing. That's cool. It is. Because if any sport warrants an all-out flurry of fanaticism, it's football. As intense as it gets, and that's why I love it. Regardless of the posers that come out of the woodwork when the season begins (that's right I just climbed up that high horse and am now confidently perched at the top), I still love it.
However, I've run into a bit of a snag since moving to Chicago, well aside from Cubs fans (see the reference to "posers" above), I have to now seek out the Bengals game. No more rolling out of my bed at 10:55 AM to begin the pregame festivities. Oh and by "pregame" I don't mean drinking. I mean getting ready to coherently watch eight full hours of football. That's what it's all about. Anyway, the Reds season hasn't been that bad because they suck, and I canceled my mlbtv.com subscription a while ago. I mean I'm kind of looking forward to going to a bar or something to watch the game because I think it'll be fun, but that also means that I have to go to a bar at noon and watch football for four hours. That could get old really quick. Hopefully it doesn't because I'm definitely the type that will watch the entire game, regardless of the score. I always hold the hope that my team (football mind you) can orchestrate some miraculous comeback.
Another thing that bums me out about being in Chicago for football season is that there will be no more football get-togethers, which I absolutely fucking love. I really can't remember the last game I watched alone because friends will always come over and listen to me rant and rave at the players, announcers, or commercials for hours on end and not seem to get too annoyed. This brings me great pleasure, and that will be missed. Well, I will get to subject Carley to it...poor sap. I will still be back in Cincinnati for the Super Bowl though because there is no way that I will miss out on throwing or being involved in the fantastic Super Bowl parties we have been hosting for going on four years. Aside from finding parking spots, it's one of the best things I do and is always a fucking good time.
Now on to the Bengals. I hold hope for this season for several reasons, many of which have recently been occurring. First off, no more Rudi Johnson. Hooray! Never bought into him from the get-go and I have witnesses who can attest to my consistent doubts concerning his running back abilities. He's a poor man's Sean Alexander, and dear God that's not saying much.
Number two, we got Chris Henry back. The analysts on SportsCenter have to lambaste this Bengals maneuver (meaning it would look bad for ESPN as a whole to do otherwise) because he's had so many run-ins with the law, but they all fucking know that Henry is a goddamn great receiver and shows flashes of brilliance. It comes down to this...I want my team to win, and if that means taking chance after chance on a troubled but great receiver...so be it. Ray Lewis murdered someone and Jamal Lewis snorted cocaine out of a hooker's butthole and they were forgiven and seem to be doing okay.
Third reason, Carson Palmer...enough said. I want him to be my roommate and make me pancakes in the morning. I bet he'd be awesome to sit down with and watch an episode of the Cosby Show. He makes me happy because he's awesome and keeps the team together...in a quiet manner.
Final reason, Chad Johnson has to play well because if he doesn't, the city of Cincinnati will tear him to pieces as a result of what happened in the offseason. If he plays well...okay then, we can deal. If not...fuck you, you worthless piece of shit. You don't want to be here? Take a fucking hike. He basically has to win a city back, and the only way he's going to do that is to catch everything all of the time. I rate this as being good pressure.
My prediction for the AFC North? Bengals 10-6, Browns 9-7, Ravens 7-9, Steelers 1-15
Steelers subplot: Hines Ward is killed in a freak skeeball accident, Willie Parker shatters both of his kneecaps simultaneously after falling off his roof while in the process of re-shingling, and Benny Burger realizes that all he has to throw to is a pretty okay tight end in Heath Miller, a rookie wide receiver, and Santonio Holmes who will be on the verge of suicide all year from a crippling depression sparked by USC's utter annihilation of the Buckeyes at the Coliseum. Burger will therefore break his own right arm with a sledgehammer because he knows he's fucked without Hines or a running game...you know, because he's not really any good. Get it?
I fucking hate the Steelers.
Football brings out the fake sports fans, God love them. People who just can't handle the vicious ups and down one must endure throughout the entire sports year in order to truly call himself or herself a sports fan. Football's one day a week (well two...well three), and doesn't take as much plot deconstructing. That's cool. It is. Because if any sport warrants an all-out flurry of fanaticism, it's football. As intense as it gets, and that's why I love it. Regardless of the posers that come out of the woodwork when the season begins (that's right I just climbed up that high horse and am now confidently perched at the top), I still love it.
However, I've run into a bit of a snag since moving to Chicago, well aside from Cubs fans (see the reference to "posers" above), I have to now seek out the Bengals game. No more rolling out of my bed at 10:55 AM to begin the pregame festivities. Oh and by "pregame" I don't mean drinking. I mean getting ready to coherently watch eight full hours of football. That's what it's all about. Anyway, the Reds season hasn't been that bad because they suck, and I canceled my mlbtv.com subscription a while ago. I mean I'm kind of looking forward to going to a bar or something to watch the game because I think it'll be fun, but that also means that I have to go to a bar at noon and watch football for four hours. That could get old really quick. Hopefully it doesn't because I'm definitely the type that will watch the entire game, regardless of the score. I always hold the hope that my team (football mind you) can orchestrate some miraculous comeback.
Another thing that bums me out about being in Chicago for football season is that there will be no more football get-togethers, which I absolutely fucking love. I really can't remember the last game I watched alone because friends will always come over and listen to me rant and rave at the players, announcers, or commercials for hours on end and not seem to get too annoyed. This brings me great pleasure, and that will be missed. Well, I will get to subject Carley to it...poor sap. I will still be back in Cincinnati for the Super Bowl though because there is no way that I will miss out on throwing or being involved in the fantastic Super Bowl parties we have been hosting for going on four years. Aside from finding parking spots, it's one of the best things I do and is always a fucking good time.
Now on to the Bengals. I hold hope for this season for several reasons, many of which have recently been occurring. First off, no more Rudi Johnson. Hooray! Never bought into him from the get-go and I have witnesses who can attest to my consistent doubts concerning his running back abilities. He's a poor man's Sean Alexander, and dear God that's not saying much.
Number two, we got Chris Henry back. The analysts on SportsCenter have to lambaste this Bengals maneuver (meaning it would look bad for ESPN as a whole to do otherwise) because he's had so many run-ins with the law, but they all fucking know that Henry is a goddamn great receiver and shows flashes of brilliance. It comes down to this...I want my team to win, and if that means taking chance after chance on a troubled but great receiver...so be it. Ray Lewis murdered someone and Jamal Lewis snorted cocaine out of a hooker's butthole and they were forgiven and seem to be doing okay.
Third reason, Carson Palmer...enough said. I want him to be my roommate and make me pancakes in the morning. I bet he'd be awesome to sit down with and watch an episode of the Cosby Show. He makes me happy because he's awesome and keeps the team together...in a quiet manner.
Final reason, Chad Johnson has to play well because if he doesn't, the city of Cincinnati will tear him to pieces as a result of what happened in the offseason. If he plays well...okay then, we can deal. If not...fuck you, you worthless piece of shit. You don't want to be here? Take a fucking hike. He basically has to win a city back, and the only way he's going to do that is to catch everything all of the time. I rate this as being good pressure.
My prediction for the AFC North? Bengals 10-6, Browns 9-7, Ravens 7-9, Steelers 1-15
Steelers subplot: Hines Ward is killed in a freak skeeball accident, Willie Parker shatters both of his kneecaps simultaneously after falling off his roof while in the process of re-shingling, and Benny Burger realizes that all he has to throw to is a pretty okay tight end in Heath Miller, a rookie wide receiver, and Santonio Holmes who will be on the verge of suicide all year from a crippling depression sparked by USC's utter annihilation of the Buckeyes at the Coliseum. Burger will therefore break his own right arm with a sledgehammer because he knows he's fucked without Hines or a running game...you know, because he's not really any good. Get it?
I fucking hate the Steelers.
Monday, August 25, 2008
The Olympics: In Retrospect
Okay, I never did muster up the effort to do an Olympics running diary, and to be honest, I'm kind of disappointed in myself. I kind of just blame Justin for not taking the initiative that would've, in turn, spurred me on. Regardless, like many others, I watched way more Olympic television than I had initially anticipated. Well, it's all over now, and I'm just going to spat out a few lingering thoughts.
It doesn't matter how much coverage it got or how much it was talked about - the Michael Phelps spectacle was fucking awesome. During many of his races, I was in Wyoming (see below), and my mom and I would wake up each day and immediately find out what time his races were. My mom gave a shit. This woman doesn't have one interested sports bone in her body, and she was sucked in. This is amazing to me. I saw the first relay when Lizak came back to win, and I saw the butterfly when I seriously thought that the Olympics were orchestrating a complex conspiracy to ensure Phelps the eight golds. I was convinced he didn't win that race, but thanks to Sports Illustrated photos, I have since been proven wrong. The naked eye can be deceiving. Regardless, the first week of the Olympics was goddamn captivating, particularly due to Phelps.
I really have no desire to play volleyball - sand or indoor. I just don't think it's that much fun, and it makes my fucking wrists/forearms burn and sting like nothing else. However, I get sucked into watching volleyball. I have no idea why. It probably has something to do with my propensity to watch anything that involves competition. I genuinely feel for the athletes and their plight/elation. Lame sounding? Yep...but the intense emotion each man/woman has to be feeling during the Olympics is beyond my realm of thought. Or at least I think it is.
On that note, I've been listening to sports commentators for two weeks bitch and make fun of seemingly "absurd" Olympic sports like handball, badminton, or trampoline. Fuck that. I say make up more outlandish competition. The fact that a pair of men have devoted their livelihoods to perfecting the sport of badminton is amazing to me. I eat that shit up. I mean, I used to play badminton in my backyard all hours of the day/evening when I was growing up (my family was big into it for some reason). And while I'm dicking around and playing on a late summer evening, some eleven year old kid in Poland is waking up at six in the morning and being berated into how to properly strike the shuttlecock (never thought I'd actually type that word in my life). I just find all that shit intriguing. Devoting your life to handball is fucking devotion. You have to bail on hanging out with your friends at the local swimming hole to go practice your skills at handball...awesome. Finger boarding, break dancing, thumb wrestling, and dodgeball should all become Olympic sports in 2012.
The female Chinese gymnasts creep me out. There's no way they're 16, and they're way too dolled up. It freaks me out for some reason. I immediately switch the channel whenever they pop up. Eesh.
The USA basketball team won the gold and no one really seemed to notice or care. The only thing that would've made news is if they lost, like in Athens. They're supposed to win, so they did, and no one gives a shit. Neat. There's no reason they should've lost and they didn't. Woo-hoo. I guess it is kind of cool to see a bunch of NBA superstars yakking it up and being friends though. That was kind of cool. I still dislike LeBron James, though, and I think Kobe Bryant is the second best basketball player I have ever seen in my life. The first? You guessed it...John Starks. Ha.
It doesn't matter how much coverage it got or how much it was talked about - the Michael Phelps spectacle was fucking awesome. During many of his races, I was in Wyoming (see below), and my mom and I would wake up each day and immediately find out what time his races were. My mom gave a shit. This woman doesn't have one interested sports bone in her body, and she was sucked in. This is amazing to me. I saw the first relay when Lizak came back to win, and I saw the butterfly when I seriously thought that the Olympics were orchestrating a complex conspiracy to ensure Phelps the eight golds. I was convinced he didn't win that race, but thanks to Sports Illustrated photos, I have since been proven wrong. The naked eye can be deceiving. Regardless, the first week of the Olympics was goddamn captivating, particularly due to Phelps.
I really have no desire to play volleyball - sand or indoor. I just don't think it's that much fun, and it makes my fucking wrists/forearms burn and sting like nothing else. However, I get sucked into watching volleyball. I have no idea why. It probably has something to do with my propensity to watch anything that involves competition. I genuinely feel for the athletes and their plight/elation. Lame sounding? Yep...but the intense emotion each man/woman has to be feeling during the Olympics is beyond my realm of thought. Or at least I think it is.
On that note, I've been listening to sports commentators for two weeks bitch and make fun of seemingly "absurd" Olympic sports like handball, badminton, or trampoline. Fuck that. I say make up more outlandish competition. The fact that a pair of men have devoted their livelihoods to perfecting the sport of badminton is amazing to me. I eat that shit up. I mean, I used to play badminton in my backyard all hours of the day/evening when I was growing up (my family was big into it for some reason). And while I'm dicking around and playing on a late summer evening, some eleven year old kid in Poland is waking up at six in the morning and being berated into how to properly strike the shuttlecock (never thought I'd actually type that word in my life). I just find all that shit intriguing. Devoting your life to handball is fucking devotion. You have to bail on hanging out with your friends at the local swimming hole to go practice your skills at handball...awesome. Finger boarding, break dancing, thumb wrestling, and dodgeball should all become Olympic sports in 2012.
The female Chinese gymnasts creep me out. There's no way they're 16, and they're way too dolled up. It freaks me out for some reason. I immediately switch the channel whenever they pop up. Eesh.
The USA basketball team won the gold and no one really seemed to notice or care. The only thing that would've made news is if they lost, like in Athens. They're supposed to win, so they did, and no one gives a shit. Neat. There's no reason they should've lost and they didn't. Woo-hoo. I guess it is kind of cool to see a bunch of NBA superstars yakking it up and being friends though. That was kind of cool. I still dislike LeBron James, though, and I think Kobe Bryant is the second best basketball player I have ever seen in my life. The first? You guessed it...John Starks. Ha.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Wyoming.
I think Justin's had three posts since my last one. I'm seriously lagging.
Anyway, I just got back from Wyoming...yep, Wyoming. It was actually pretty amazing. I had been slightly dreading the trip. Not dreading seeing one of my best friends get married, and seeing tons of Chicagoans and Napervillians I hadn't seen in a while, but just dreading the actual traveling. I had to wake up at 3:45 AM Wednesday morning after working a 12 hour day and drive to Indianapolis to meet my mom. We dropped our cars off, got a 45 minute ride to the airport, flew into Denver, got a rental car (a Mazda6 that I proceeded to fall in love with over the weekend), and then drove to delightful Laramie, Wyoming. It took fucking forever.
Now, I really had no idea what to expect from Wyoming. All I knew was that it is the least populated state in America, which I find to be charming. The population is so minuscule that the state actually boasts a "smallest town in America." That's right, Buford, Wyoming on I-80: population one. Of course I had to stop at this gold mine of schticky Wyoming parephenilia. I actually stopped there on three separate occasions during our trips between Laramie (where the bride and groom live) and Cheyenne (the wedding location). That guy has to make a fucking killing. Who's not going to stop at a town with a population of one? It's a house and a gas station/trading post. That's it...literally.
Another fantastic highlight of the wedding/vacation was the mountain trip we took into the Rockies on Thursday. It took about an hour to drive up, but it was seriously beautiful. All of the typical things you've heard. Crisp, but thin air, lakes so clear and blue you can see straight to the bottom, snowcapped mountains in August, and just amazingly scenic greatness. Here are a few pictures of me perfectly posed in front of mountains and lakes:
The wedding was a success and I made a pretty damn good speech if I do say so myself. Right off the top of my head. I do wish the best man speech could be done before the wedding ceremony, so I didn't have to think and fret about it all night and really only get to enjoy the last three hours of the evening. I demand a societal change.
There's really tons more to say about the greatness and strangeness of Wyoming, but I just don't feel like typing anymore. So, here's one of my patented lists:
-Everything moves slower in Wyoming. Everything. Not to say I'm some big city boy or something, but I personally find it ridiculous that it takes two hours to check into a hotel room. Or ten minutes to get a drink at a bar with a whopping five people in it. The whole population is in no hurry, and they're making no attempts to hide it. Partly charming, partly annoying.
-I did get the "You're not from around here are you?" line. I had been waiting for it all weekend, and I got it my first day in Cheyenne. I asked a sales clerk about a pair of polyester Wrangler pants in a Wrangler store, and I got the line. Does that make sense to you? Not to me.
-Everyone in the state seems to own at least 25 acres of land with multiple horses and/or livestock. It's a requirement.
-The highways are always empty and you can go five thousand mph on them. It's fucking great. I was in Wyoming for almost five days, and I saw two cops...two. The driving in the state is fantastic. The highways are in perfect condition and the drives are scenic as hell. They even have highway signs labeled "Point of Interest" when anything extra Wyoming-like is approaching so that you can slow down or pull off to take it all in. My favorite: a tree growing out of a boulder. Definitely a huge "Point of Interest" to me.
-Every bar has its own microbrews, which I found to be a pleasant surprise. Pretty good beer too.
-Strangers wave at you on the street and say hi. Most people know my feelings on community...I eat it up with a spoon, and Wyoming is teeming with lovely country hospitality. There's something wonderfully endearing about a rugged dude in a cowboy hat and boots, smoking a filter-less Marlboro Red saying hi to you. Awesome.
I was delighted by the whole trip. Good times.
Anyway, I just got back from Wyoming...yep, Wyoming. It was actually pretty amazing. I had been slightly dreading the trip. Not dreading seeing one of my best friends get married, and seeing tons of Chicagoans and Napervillians I hadn't seen in a while, but just dreading the actual traveling. I had to wake up at 3:45 AM Wednesday morning after working a 12 hour day and drive to Indianapolis to meet my mom. We dropped our cars off, got a 45 minute ride to the airport, flew into Denver, got a rental car (a Mazda6 that I proceeded to fall in love with over the weekend), and then drove to delightful Laramie, Wyoming. It took fucking forever.
Now, I really had no idea what to expect from Wyoming. All I knew was that it is the least populated state in America, which I find to be charming. The population is so minuscule that the state actually boasts a "smallest town in America." That's right, Buford, Wyoming on I-80: population one. Of course I had to stop at this gold mine of schticky Wyoming parephenilia. I actually stopped there on three separate occasions during our trips between Laramie (where the bride and groom live) and Cheyenne (the wedding location). That guy has to make a fucking killing. Who's not going to stop at a town with a population of one? It's a house and a gas station/trading post. That's it...literally.
Another fantastic highlight of the wedding/vacation was the mountain trip we took into the Rockies on Thursday. It took about an hour to drive up, but it was seriously beautiful. All of the typical things you've heard. Crisp, but thin air, lakes so clear and blue you can see straight to the bottom, snowcapped mountains in August, and just amazingly scenic greatness. Here are a few pictures of me perfectly posed in front of mountains and lakes:
The wedding was a success and I made a pretty damn good speech if I do say so myself. Right off the top of my head. I do wish the best man speech could be done before the wedding ceremony, so I didn't have to think and fret about it all night and really only get to enjoy the last three hours of the evening. I demand a societal change.
There's really tons more to say about the greatness and strangeness of Wyoming, but I just don't feel like typing anymore. So, here's one of my patented lists:
-Everything moves slower in Wyoming. Everything. Not to say I'm some big city boy or something, but I personally find it ridiculous that it takes two hours to check into a hotel room. Or ten minutes to get a drink at a bar with a whopping five people in it. The whole population is in no hurry, and they're making no attempts to hide it. Partly charming, partly annoying.
-I did get the "You're not from around here are you?" line. I had been waiting for it all weekend, and I got it my first day in Cheyenne. I asked a sales clerk about a pair of polyester Wrangler pants in a Wrangler store, and I got the line. Does that make sense to you? Not to me.
-Everyone in the state seems to own at least 25 acres of land with multiple horses and/or livestock. It's a requirement.
-The highways are always empty and you can go five thousand mph on them. It's fucking great. I was in Wyoming for almost five days, and I saw two cops...two. The driving in the state is fantastic. The highways are in perfect condition and the drives are scenic as hell. They even have highway signs labeled "Point of Interest" when anything extra Wyoming-like is approaching so that you can slow down or pull off to take it all in. My favorite: a tree growing out of a boulder. Definitely a huge "Point of Interest" to me.
-Every bar has its own microbrews, which I found to be a pleasant surprise. Pretty good beer too.
-Strangers wave at you on the street and say hi. Most people know my feelings on community...I eat it up with a spoon, and Wyoming is teeming with lovely country hospitality. There's something wonderfully endearing about a rugged dude in a cowboy hat and boots, smoking a filter-less Marlboro Red saying hi to you. Awesome.
I was delighted by the whole trip. Good times.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Itching Bug Bites.
Camping has a fantastic set of unwritten rules that many of us would never adhere by throughout a typical, run-of-the-mill weekend. It's part of the allure, part of the ambiance. I've been camping an innumerable amount of times, and it never fails. I always shed my inhibitions.
- I don't change one piece of clothing throughout the duration of the weekend. Now, I always bring other clothes believing that this is the year that I'll change my underwear. It never happens. Gross? Maybe. Do I care? Nope.
- Bathing does not happen. I'll wash my hands if I have the means, but no other body part is going to get cleaned, unless I go swimming in the lake. And it's debatable whether or not I'm really getting cleaned by doing that anyway. Lord knows what the hell is in that lake. Brushing your teeth is also hit and miss. This is really the first year I ever went out of my way to brush my teeth. I don't know why. I'm actually kind of disappointed in myself.
- I'll eat an ungodly amount of garbage, shit food and drink way too many piss beers. This past camping trip (two nights) I had to have eaten an entire box of Cheez-Its (a camping necessity), ten S'mores, a full bag of chips, half a jar of peanuts, four veggie burgers, 25 granola bars, and whatever else was put in front of my face. I also drank way too many beers in cans. Ugh. The combination of junk food and make believe beer (and let it be known that I wasn't at all drunk) caused a near puking moment; my first in 7 years. God, that would've been disappointing. Oh, and I smoke about 18 more cigarettes a day than usual.
- Sleep is optional. Actually, let me rephrase that. Finding a comfortable place to sleep is impossible. I'm not the pickiest sleeper in the world, but falling asleep for three hours in the back of a van fucking blows balls. And that was probably my most comfortable option. You have to go into the weekend assuming that you'll probably only get about six hours of total sleep.
- Sun tan lotion is poison. I'm a pale motherfucker, and I hardly ever think about putting sun tan lotion on when camping. Getting burnt seems like an initiation rite. I almost kind of like it. Tank top tans are beautiful. You know it.
- Pissing in public, and I mean wherever you're standing at the time, is appropriate and necessary. You're in nature. Get a clue.
- No shoes or socks. Get bug bites. They make you tougher.
And after the weekend is all over, and you've shoved that last hot dog down your gullet, and played your last game of cornhole, you look like these suckers - exhausted, gross, but content as hell.
- I don't change one piece of clothing throughout the duration of the weekend. Now, I always bring other clothes believing that this is the year that I'll change my underwear. It never happens. Gross? Maybe. Do I care? Nope.
- Bathing does not happen. I'll wash my hands if I have the means, but no other body part is going to get cleaned, unless I go swimming in the lake. And it's debatable whether or not I'm really getting cleaned by doing that anyway. Lord knows what the hell is in that lake. Brushing your teeth is also hit and miss. This is really the first year I ever went out of my way to brush my teeth. I don't know why. I'm actually kind of disappointed in myself.
- I'll eat an ungodly amount of garbage, shit food and drink way too many piss beers. This past camping trip (two nights) I had to have eaten an entire box of Cheez-Its (a camping necessity), ten S'mores, a full bag of chips, half a jar of peanuts, four veggie burgers, 25 granola bars, and whatever else was put in front of my face. I also drank way too many beers in cans. Ugh. The combination of junk food and make believe beer (and let it be known that I wasn't at all drunk) caused a near puking moment; my first in 7 years. God, that would've been disappointing. Oh, and I smoke about 18 more cigarettes a day than usual.
- Sleep is optional. Actually, let me rephrase that. Finding a comfortable place to sleep is impossible. I'm not the pickiest sleeper in the world, but falling asleep for three hours in the back of a van fucking blows balls. And that was probably my most comfortable option. You have to go into the weekend assuming that you'll probably only get about six hours of total sleep.
- Sun tan lotion is poison. I'm a pale motherfucker, and I hardly ever think about putting sun tan lotion on when camping. Getting burnt seems like an initiation rite. I almost kind of like it. Tank top tans are beautiful. You know it.
- Pissing in public, and I mean wherever you're standing at the time, is appropriate and necessary. You're in nature. Get a clue.
- No shoes or socks. Get bug bites. They make you tougher.
And after the weekend is all over, and you've shoved that last hot dog down your gullet, and played your last game of cornhole, you look like these suckers - exhausted, gross, but content as hell.
Friday, July 25, 2008
Action!
The Brett Favre plot thickens. I found out today that he's going to show up to training camp in hopes of pushing Aaron Rodgers out. What a complete dick. Again...just go the fuck away Brett Favre. Dear god.
I saw the Dark Knight yesterday, and I gotta admit, the hype is well warranted. The film is fucking amazing. It's dark, action packed, smart, with just the right seasoning of funny. Yes, Heath Ledger is perfect, and it's a bummer what happened to him. I was seriously blown away by how great the movie was. I'm a batman fan to begin with, and even I think that each nuance of the movie was beautifully executed. Well done.
On that note, the Dark Knight left a lasting effect on me today as I sat in my office, and I began to ponder great action movies that simply have all the elements that make them re-watchable over and over; action movies that are pure entertainment and just a fucking good time to experience. Here's my little list.
The Die Hard Trilogy
Pretty obvious I know, but you have got to respect this quirky, shoot-em-up-and-explode-em trilogy. Disclaimer: I'm not including the fourth installment of Die Hard because although I thought it was well done and entertaining, it doesn't maintain the same sense of nostalgic qualities the original, authentic Die Hard Trilogy does. Therefore, no discussion of it will be made.
What makes this entire trilogy amazing is simple - the Gruber brothers. Not many people talk about Die Hard 2, and even though I feel like it is a massively underrated film, it strayed from the formula of the Grubers (similar to how Indiana Jones strayed from the Nazis in the Temple of Doom, but we'll get to that later). Plus, it's slightly political and complex, dealing with the forceful release of a highly controversial political prisoner by a gaggle of turncoats. This is just too much. The audience of an action movie doesn't want to have to think too much. That's why the geniuses behind Die Hard with a Vengeance made it simple. A man wants to kill John McClain and in the process makes him solve a bunch of riddles and puzzles. Brilliant. I love riddles. But Gruber's vendetta against our heroic protagonist makes the films. McClain is a vagabond who just happens to be a cop. He's the "every-man" the public loves, and he's a fucking funny, smart-ass who kills bad guys. Sounds simple, but damn that shit works. Plus, in Die Hard with a Vengeance, the brilliant minds of Hollywood decide to pair him up with Samuel L. Jackson. Perfect move.
Die Hard with a Vengeance formula: Renegade cop + Street wise black man + Hazardous but entertaining riddles and puzzles + A bunch of bad foreigners (I mean, who likes foreigners anyway right?) + Big explosions and gunfire = Picture perfect action film.
The Indiana Jones Trilogy
Again, I'm not going to mention the most recent installment. Mainly because it wasn't that great. Aliens at the end? Really? And also because Harrison Ford just could not maintain the same spry attitude that epitomizes Indiana Jones. Different movie all together. Not that impressed.
As was said before, Indiana Jones also fell out of the "what works every time formula" when it made Temple of Doom. I've had this conversation many a time with my friends, but Temple of Doom is too campy; it's too cheese-ball. And it gets away from what will always work in any movie - fucking Nazis. Indiana Jones has all ready got tons of shit going for it because it deals with archeology. I love archeology because it's about cryptic, mysterious shit that we can only imagine ever seeing. However, Indiana Jones is always out finding it. Again, I'm going to focus on the highlight of the three films, which is Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Like Die Hard with a Vengeance, the makers of the films figured, "Hey we got it right the first time, we can experiment a little with the second film," only to get a firm slap on the wrist when they stray a little too far. Formula works with action films. That's why there's a formula. Gruber's = Die Hard and Nazis = Indiana Jones.
Also, in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, Sean Connery is thrown into the cauldron as the dense, yet intelligent father to Indiana. Similar to Samuel L. Jackson, the addition is perfect and adds just the right amount of spice to the film. Plus, they're searching for the Holy Grail. You can't get much more archaeological than that. Did, I mention the Nazis are after it too? Beautiful.
Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade formula: Dashing, attractive professor by day and charming yet daring archaeologist by night + veteran Scottish actor with a beard + search for the Holy Grail (I mean come on, it's the Holy Grail) + Retro setting (for nostalgic factor) + fucking Nazis = Picture perfect action film.
Okay, okay, I kind of went off on several tangents with those trilogies because number one, they're trilogies and number two, they're six of my favorite action movies of all time. i do think it's fantastic that the third installment in each series is my favorite. Everyone wants to laud the original, but that's just because they feel like they have to. It's like giving every movie from the 1930's four stars or saying that the 72' Dolphins team is the best team of all-time. Trust me, have them play the 2007 Dolphins (uhhh...1-15) and they'd get fucking smoked. People feel like they have to say the 72' team is the best because they went undefeated. Whatever, they played like 4 teams with winning records. Whoa, whoa, whoa...sorry, the sports sidebars just sneak up on me.
Anyway, the formula was tweaked and perfected with each installment, thus resulting in two amazing action films: Die Hard with a Vengeance and Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.
Here are some other amazing action films and the reasons why. Disclaimer #2: I'm going to try and stay away from sports movies at all costs. They belong in their own category. Okay then...I'm gonna try to sum the rest of these up in two sentences or less.
Terminator 2: Judgment Day
The special effects still hold up and Arnold is in his motherfucking prime. Plus, you can't beat those creepy sound effects maintained throughout the movie
Speed
Keanu Reeves' crowning moment. Three-quarters of the film takes place on a goddamn raging bus. Pieces of highway are missing, Sandra Bullock actually kind of looks okay, and Dennis Hopper is a creepy bastard. Plus, it's the first rated-R movie I ever saw in the theaters.
Cliffhanger
Sylvester Stallone vs. John Lithgow
First Blood
Just Sylvester Stallone. The film really has no plot, and that makes it all the better. Oh, and there's a big ass fucking knife.
Predator
I realize I'm really just promoting Sly and Arnold films here but is that such a bad thing? The Predator's a frightening beast, and the geniuses of Hollywood figured out a perfect formula: Don't Let Arnold talk, and cover him in mud.
Any Steven Seagal Movie
It's simple. Seagal has one signature move. He grabs a body part and forces it the way the joint doesn't want to go, thus popping a bone out into open air. I could watch this over and over again, and thankfully there are many Seagal gems that allow me to do so.
The Lord of the Rings Trilogy
These movies finally made me into a verifiable dork (I had been avoiding Star Wars mania for years). Epic, and I mean epic, action scenes, Liv Tyler looking amazing, and talking trees. Done and done.
Braveheart
I know Mel Gibson is a jackass, but this movie spurned a series of forgettable "epics." William Wallace has his limbs ripped from his body and his innards strewn about at the end...absolutely vicious. When he yells "Freedom!" I wanted to lose it. There's no shame in that right? This movie made me want to buy a sword and take more pride in my Scottish roots.
The Dark Knight
Go see it.
Okay, there's definitely more, but I'm done for now.
I saw the Dark Knight yesterday, and I gotta admit, the hype is well warranted. The film is fucking amazing. It's dark, action packed, smart, with just the right seasoning of funny. Yes, Heath Ledger is perfect, and it's a bummer what happened to him. I was seriously blown away by how great the movie was. I'm a batman fan to begin with, and even I think that each nuance of the movie was beautifully executed. Well done.
On that note, the Dark Knight left a lasting effect on me today as I sat in my office, and I began to ponder great action movies that simply have all the elements that make them re-watchable over and over; action movies that are pure entertainment and just a fucking good time to experience. Here's my little list.
The Die Hard Trilogy
Pretty obvious I know, but you have got to respect this quirky, shoot-em-up-and-explode-em trilogy. Disclaimer: I'm not including the fourth installment of Die Hard because although I thought it was well done and entertaining, it doesn't maintain the same sense of nostalgic qualities the original, authentic Die Hard Trilogy does. Therefore, no discussion of it will be made.
What makes this entire trilogy amazing is simple - the Gruber brothers. Not many people talk about Die Hard 2, and even though I feel like it is a massively underrated film, it strayed from the formula of the Grubers (similar to how Indiana Jones strayed from the Nazis in the Temple of Doom, but we'll get to that later). Plus, it's slightly political and complex, dealing with the forceful release of a highly controversial political prisoner by a gaggle of turncoats. This is just too much. The audience of an action movie doesn't want to have to think too much. That's why the geniuses behind Die Hard with a Vengeance made it simple. A man wants to kill John McClain and in the process makes him solve a bunch of riddles and puzzles. Brilliant. I love riddles. But Gruber's vendetta against our heroic protagonist makes the films. McClain is a vagabond who just happens to be a cop. He's the "every-man" the public loves, and he's a fucking funny, smart-ass who kills bad guys. Sounds simple, but damn that shit works. Plus, in Die Hard with a Vengeance, the brilliant minds of Hollywood decide to pair him up with Samuel L. Jackson. Perfect move.
Die Hard with a Vengeance formula: Renegade cop + Street wise black man + Hazardous but entertaining riddles and puzzles + A bunch of bad foreigners (I mean, who likes foreigners anyway right?) + Big explosions and gunfire = Picture perfect action film.
The Indiana Jones Trilogy
Again, I'm not going to mention the most recent installment. Mainly because it wasn't that great. Aliens at the end? Really? And also because Harrison Ford just could not maintain the same spry attitude that epitomizes Indiana Jones. Different movie all together. Not that impressed.
As was said before, Indiana Jones also fell out of the "what works every time formula" when it made Temple of Doom. I've had this conversation many a time with my friends, but Temple of Doom is too campy; it's too cheese-ball. And it gets away from what will always work in any movie - fucking Nazis. Indiana Jones has all ready got tons of shit going for it because it deals with archeology. I love archeology because it's about cryptic, mysterious shit that we can only imagine ever seeing. However, Indiana Jones is always out finding it. Again, I'm going to focus on the highlight of the three films, which is Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Like Die Hard with a Vengeance, the makers of the films figured, "Hey we got it right the first time, we can experiment a little with the second film," only to get a firm slap on the wrist when they stray a little too far. Formula works with action films. That's why there's a formula. Gruber's = Die Hard and Nazis = Indiana Jones.
Also, in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, Sean Connery is thrown into the cauldron as the dense, yet intelligent father to Indiana. Similar to Samuel L. Jackson, the addition is perfect and adds just the right amount of spice to the film. Plus, they're searching for the Holy Grail. You can't get much more archaeological than that. Did, I mention the Nazis are after it too? Beautiful.
Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade formula: Dashing, attractive professor by day and charming yet daring archaeologist by night + veteran Scottish actor with a beard + search for the Holy Grail (I mean come on, it's the Holy Grail) + Retro setting (for nostalgic factor) + fucking Nazis = Picture perfect action film.
Okay, okay, I kind of went off on several tangents with those trilogies because number one, they're trilogies and number two, they're six of my favorite action movies of all time. i do think it's fantastic that the third installment in each series is my favorite. Everyone wants to laud the original, but that's just because they feel like they have to. It's like giving every movie from the 1930's four stars or saying that the 72' Dolphins team is the best team of all-time. Trust me, have them play the 2007 Dolphins (uhhh...1-15) and they'd get fucking smoked. People feel like they have to say the 72' team is the best because they went undefeated. Whatever, they played like 4 teams with winning records. Whoa, whoa, whoa...sorry, the sports sidebars just sneak up on me.
Anyway, the formula was tweaked and perfected with each installment, thus resulting in two amazing action films: Die Hard with a Vengeance and Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade.
Here are some other amazing action films and the reasons why. Disclaimer #2: I'm going to try and stay away from sports movies at all costs. They belong in their own category. Okay then...I'm gonna try to sum the rest of these up in two sentences or less.
Terminator 2: Judgment Day
The special effects still hold up and Arnold is in his motherfucking prime. Plus, you can't beat those creepy sound effects maintained throughout the movie
Speed
Keanu Reeves' crowning moment. Three-quarters of the film takes place on a goddamn raging bus. Pieces of highway are missing, Sandra Bullock actually kind of looks okay, and Dennis Hopper is a creepy bastard. Plus, it's the first rated-R movie I ever saw in the theaters.
Cliffhanger
Sylvester Stallone vs. John Lithgow
First Blood
Just Sylvester Stallone. The film really has no plot, and that makes it all the better. Oh, and there's a big ass fucking knife.
Predator
I realize I'm really just promoting Sly and Arnold films here but is that such a bad thing? The Predator's a frightening beast, and the geniuses of Hollywood figured out a perfect formula: Don't Let Arnold talk, and cover him in mud.
Any Steven Seagal Movie
It's simple. Seagal has one signature move. He grabs a body part and forces it the way the joint doesn't want to go, thus popping a bone out into open air. I could watch this over and over again, and thankfully there are many Seagal gems that allow me to do so.
The Lord of the Rings Trilogy
These movies finally made me into a verifiable dork (I had been avoiding Star Wars mania for years). Epic, and I mean epic, action scenes, Liv Tyler looking amazing, and talking trees. Done and done.
Braveheart
I know Mel Gibson is a jackass, but this movie spurned a series of forgettable "epics." William Wallace has his limbs ripped from his body and his innards strewn about at the end...absolutely vicious. When he yells "Freedom!" I wanted to lose it. There's no shame in that right? This movie made me want to buy a sword and take more pride in my Scottish roots.
The Dark Knight
Go see it.
Okay, there's definitely more, but I'm done for now.
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