Why? Why I ask you? Why?

Q: Why can't I write more often?

A: Because I am a boring sack of shit.

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So. Since the last time we talked, I have done nothing that is remotely interesting to anybody, especially myself. Unless you count finally running my speaker wires through the basement so that I could stop constantly tripping on them.

I haven't been reading, or watching movies recently, as I've simply been brain dead. The wifey tried to talk to me last night, and I quite honestly didn't even know it was happening.

It could be the heat, I suppose, but while it is unseasonably warm for this time of year, its not so hot that I should actually be suffering mental consequences.

It could be work, which has certainly been busy enough to wear out the old cranium.

Dunno what it is, but I need a nap, and I am hours and hours from the ability to take one. Unless of course, I pull a Costanza.

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Quick congratulations go out to the Goose and Danielle, who celebrated the arrival of their second baby the other day.

quickly confidential

Not a ton of time today, so just a quick book recommendation. I just finished reading L.A. Confidential, by James Ellroy. Apparently it was the third in a series of four books, but you don't need to have read the other ones to read this one. If you liked the movie, I would highly recommend the book. There are definitely some similarities, but they are more in the rough character outlines than in the plot points. (Which was nice actually, as I didn't know what was coming next, not that the plot twists were the hardest to decipher.) Anyways, the casting of the movie was done so well, that all the descriptions of the characters fit those cast to play them in the movie.

Not necessarily a quick read, as it took some time for me to get used to the changes in narrators, but not a hard read either.

There might be more later today if I have time, we'll see.

The Return of Football Sunday

Or... An excuse to take naps, resumed.

Football gets much PR nowadays as the "New" American Pasttime. While I personally think this is a criminal reflection of the ever-shortening American attention span, and a reflection of the fact that there are only 16 games in the regular season, there is an undeniable draw to the first weekend of real football. I am not one of those people who are so desperate for something to do that they would deign to watch Pre-Season Football.

But really, there are only three real reasons to enjoy football.

1. Sunday afternoon nap time baby. I love my Sunday afternoon naps in the fall. In fact, I can't remember the last football game I watched all the way through without at least a little bit of shut-eye.
2. Fantasy football. There's nothing to make a bad football game interesting like the fact that your defense is getting the shit kicked out of it by Eli Manning. Not like this just happened to me last weekend or anything. Seriously, if you can't stop Eli, Dallas Defense, we may have to go our separate ways. America's team my ass.
3. Gambling. The not so hidden secret behind football's success. Can you think of another sport that routinely makes as big of a deal about point spreads and over/unders? Oh, you thought those were just for fun? Let me tell you another one: The NCAA Men's BB Tournament is a big deal because people enjoy the level of competition.
   

I suppose there are people out there who watch the games for the lure of the violence and mayhem, but to be honest, I get enough violence just taking the dogface for a walk. Seriously, the mutt can pull pretty hard.

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In case you can't tell, I'm not the biggest football fan in the world. I do like the Patriot's I suppose, but not in nearly the same way in which I am a fan of either the Celtics or the Yankees. Still, this Sunday was a difficult weekend for me, testing my team loyalties against my fantasy team needs. The team I was facing had both Brady and Moss, and my team had Jerricho Cotherie of the Jets. Needless to say, I'm getting the shit kicked out of me. How did I resolve my loyalty conflict?

By napping. I do, after all, have my priorities.

Sadly, getting older. Much, much, older.

Had a big Friday night last night. Played 18 holes, terribly. Got home, met up with the wifey, and went out to Pats, had a beer and a lard-ridden pizza. Came home, drank some wine, and put in Pirates of the Caribbean Two: I'm back for more cash. Actually it was called something else, but after watching the first half hour of those mailed in, lifeless "performances", the wifey and I decided it would be best to watch something, anything, else.

We flipped around through the tv/tivo for a bit, watching some random shows, and checking in on the Red Sox game. (<--- Jacob Ellsbury? Fast.)

Soon enough, we were tired and ready to go to bed. It was nine o'clock.

Wait, WHAT?

When the fuck did this happen?

NINE O'CLOCK?!?!?!?!

Lame. Lame. Lame.

I'd like to say we realized our lameness and decided to go out. We didn't. I finished my glass of wine, (and the wifey's too, for that matter) and went to read in bed. When I woke up, I was 65 years old.

Now he's really The Natural

In the some stories are too good to be true department, I bring you Rick Ankiel.

For those of you who are unfamiliar, Rick Ankiel was brought up in the Cardinal's organization as a flame throwing left handed pitcher when he was 20 years old. He tore up the league, right up until the NLCS when he all of a sudden couldn't throw a strike.

I mean, literally, could not throw a strike. Ever.

Everyone thought he'd get over it, but he never did. So much so, that they sent him down to the minor leagues, where everyone thought he was done. But, in a Disney story come true, Ankiel converted to an outfielder two years ago. He was called up earlier this season, and improbably has been tearing up the league. His extended stats if he had played a full season would like Ruthian, something like 65 home runs, 15o rbi, that sort of thing. Last night, he had perhaps his best game, with two home runs and 7 rbi in a Cardinals win over the Pirates. Baseball writers all over the place were falling all over themselves making references to Roy Hobbs - Rick Ankiel, The Natural part Deux.

This morning, he woke up to headlines in the New York Daily News that he is accused of buying a year's worth of HGH (Human Growth Hormone). In other words, the Natural? Mebbe not.

Or wait a second..

In the movie The Natural, Roy Hobbs is played by Robert Redford as a Iowa farm boy who is a little too good to be true. Once a pitcher, he comes back as a slugger later in life following an incident involving a lady in black on a train. He comes back as a dominant slugger, who buoys the NY Knights to the pennant. Gamblers try to pay him off, but he loves baseball too much and just can't do it.

In the book, the story falls a little differently. Roy Hobbs in Bernard Malamud's The Natural, is a creature who falls victim to his own immense appetites. He gorges himself in women and food throughout the book, but his natural talent as a player carries him. Still, he is portrayed as a brutish, immoralist character, hardly one likely to be played by Robert Redford. In the end of the book, Malamud's Hobbs is guilty of throwing the game. One of the last lines of the book is from a small child who sees Hobbs after he is found guilty of conspiracy, and says "Say it ain't so Roy."

So maybe there are some more real parallels between Roy Hobbs and Rick Ankiel after all. Unfortunately for Ankiel, and for us, the parallels were between a literary Hobbs, and not the film one.

How to win the lottery without really trying

Unfortunately, my current retirement plan involves winning the lottery. (My previous one involved a sugar mama.) Equally unfortunately, I've never bought a lottery ticket. I've probably played about ten scratch off tickets in my life, and won nothing. So... Does this make my odds of winning the lottery greater or lesser?

It's become clear to me that the path to riches doesn't seem to include working at a non-profit in education. Who knew?

So I need a knew plan. Possibly I should rob banks? There are enough tall, skinny people with glasses around, maybe they'd never find me. Maybe I should become a politician. That seems to be the first step to becoming a dirty politician, and all the graft that goes along with that. Hey, it worked for Dick Cheney, didn't it? I could invent the next pet rock, but that would require at least the slightest bit of creativity, and quite frankly, I'm fresh out.

Anyone have any ideas? I'm willing to share a significant (say.. 3%?) percentage of value for anyone who can make me unimaginably wealthy, so I can just spend my days lounging in the Caribbean with no plans that don't involve umbrella drinks.

Anyone?

The bestest part about long weekends

Just time for a quickie today.

It's hard to say what the best part about long weekends is. It could be the simple fact that it's three days as opposed to two. That's nice. It could be that I don't have to work on a Monday. Which is also nice. (Although let's be honest, I don't get shit done on Monday's. Or Fridays. I should be on a three day a week schedule.)

The best part though, is when you forget that today is Tuesday and not Monday, and then all of a sudden remember and get to think to yourself, "One day closer to the weekend, fuckin' A right." God I love those moments. I've had a handful today.

(Is this a sign that I hate my job? Or just that I hate working, period? I am so ready for retirement.

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A good use of technology:

My local library, the Orono Town library, has a search engine on their website where I can search for and reserve books. Simple, easy, and effective. Also, another way I can avoid talking to people face to face unless absolutely necessary. Which is what Technology's all about, right?

A couple big important things

First off, happy Birthday Major. Yes, I know it was last week, but "better late than never" has been kind of a running theme for this blog. I heard lots of fun times were had by the ladies Friday night while celebrating. I heard this repeatedly actually, as I got a few phone calls that night with updates.

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So I'm just getting out of one of my busiest weeks of work in a while. Stupid work and it's throwing a cramp in my play schedule. Spent way, way too much time on a laptop this week, so needless to say I couldn't seem to get together the motivation to write at all. My schedule should open up a bit from here on out, so I'll see what I can do it about writing more. No promises though.

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School's back in session, which means two things. One, the wifey is definitely out of fun mode, and into "Educating our Young" mode, which means waking up at 5:30 every morning. For her, not me. Fuck that, if I was in charge, our young wouldn't get educated until mid-afternoon.

It also means that the students have started piling back into campus. It's a mixed blessing, really. They certainly bring more energy to the town, and they also dilute the percentage of self-righteous assholes. Parking spots quite simply disappear, and the bad driving factor multiplies exponentially. Also, I feel older every year. I know I've probably said it before, but I really do think the freshman look like children this year. I swear to god I saw a 12 year old moving into the dorms on Friday. I never, ever, looked that young. Except for maybe when I was 12.

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Good article this morning in the Kansas City Star, by Joe Posnanski. (<--- Spelling uncertain, but like you care.) I'd say this guys one of the best sports columnists in America right now. For more proof, check out his blog The Soul of Baseball. He's not updating the blog right now, but there is a ton of great articles about baseball, movies, and other random things. If you're looking to kill some time, check some of them out.