Showing posts with label dinninit dinninninit. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dinninit dinninninit. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Lazy Morning

Mira made the comment about how great the potential was for the laziness of this morning, so I decided to act upon it. After I wrote an e-mail to a clinician about one of my boys, I sorted my laundry and then put in a load. After that burst of productivity, it was sheer slothyness (term borrowed from Friends of Mira. All Rights Reserved) from then on.

When I threw on the TV, I was disappointed to see that my usual dose of Sports Center was delayed for live action from the Women's World Cup. Now I can say that I love sports, even women's soccer, not exactly a popular choice amongst the heterosexual male. But I wanted football highlights and baseball. Women's World Cup can wait till the round of 16. Or at least if the Americans were on. Instead the matchups were Japan : England and Nigeria : Sweden. Yeah. But I got over myself and actually the soccer was pretty exciting at points. That British girl Katie Smith is a beast. I'd like to say it was th e training she got at the American university that is the cause.

My patience was rewarded with a 90-minute Sports Center featuring two of the network's more dry, random humorists. Is it wrong that I not only watch the show for the sports highlights but actually for the entertainment in it? Those guys are funny sometimes. Actually most of the time. And yeah I do have favorites. But it was just what the doctor ordered.

And now the music finally joins the proceedings and I immediately think of a new blog for my media site, because Ma$e was a star that burned out too quick. He was a much better version of Fabolous, before Fabolous. And I like Fabolous.
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Now playing: Ma$e - Lookin' At Me (feat. Puff Daddy)
via FoxyTunes

Thursday, September 06, 2007

Inertia

From the physcis course I took, I believe the idea of inertia is that pretty much everything is going to stay in the state its in unless an outside force does something to it. If you're moving one way, you'll keep going that way until something stops you or alters your course. And if you're not moving then you'll be as immobile as a rock, unless something pushes you along.

Today for some reason, I woke up at 9, even though I had gone to sleep at 4. I thought waking up at 10 was a stretch, but that's what I had set my alarm to since I had things I wanted to accomplish today. But I woke up and had boundless energy. I transcribed the RLS blog which I had written long hand while I stayed in the hotel and was without internet. I then bounced around and showered, continued to sing and dance as I completed my grooming rituals, and even had enough time to be vain in the mirror for a second.

As I soaked up my usual fix from my chemical dependency on the pavement, I felt a charge I haven't felt in a while. I felt good. I felt confident. And confidence is a drug that liberates oneself from inhibition. I was less subversive about my enjoyment of music and visibly mouthed words and bobbed my head. When I was walking, the observant would have seen that I was really dancing as much as possible. All this while I dropped off a photo of my grandfather to be reproduced and stopped off at four stores to shop. I was charming to the attendant in the department store. You could not stop me.

But then I went to drive golf balls because I finally felt inspired enough. And the confidence was still there. I asked for the clubs I wanted without hesitation and found my way to a slot. But then the confidence drained out of me. First my ball machine wasn't working. The nice elderly lady next to me helped me out and actually gave me her slot with free balls since she was a member. But then I just sucked. Its been a while since I picked up clubs. And I got all cerebral and upset at myself. Furthermore, I was starting to get tired as I walked to the golf club and I forgot to eat in my mania.

I left sad. I even discovered a bunch of shops I probably would love after i passed by the meat market, but I couldn't even get excited. My music didn't even bring me joy. And there is inertia. You couldn't stop me before in terms of confidence. But my disappointing play combined with my sleepiness changed all that. Confidence gone.

It got to the point where I was figuring out how I could afford private lessons so I could dominate the sport, which I've always thought was perfect for me. It's solitary and useful in climbing the social ladder. You get to spend loads of cash on equipment and everybody is always striving for perfection.

And it all quickly came back when I got on the train and a girl gave me the look over as we passed and actually turned her head to check me out as she walked away. Smirk returned. Head bobbing, though the sleepiness still kept me somewhat sedate.

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Play Ball

For some reason, my body chose to wake up this morning at the hour of 7:30 this morning. On a regular Wednesday, I probably wouldn't have cared so much. It's usually an early day since I have to go in for work at noon instead of two. But today the day is mine because I had vacation time to burn before my anniversary, which is technically tomorrow. What better way to spend those last couple of hours to give myself a three day work week.

Which is exactly why one would not want to be up so early when one does not need to be. But it all worked out because I came to the conclusion that has slowly been realized over the past couple of months.

I love sports.

Though I know it's probably time to leave the Bay State, being here has been responsible for so many positive things in my life. Chief amongst the many plusses is probably learning to truly remember and enjoy. And being sucked in to Red Sox and Patriot nation helped rekindle the flame that was once much more passionate. It's the only way I can explain sucking in SportsCenter, the televised broadcast of a sports radio show, and the first parts of the ESPN version of the Today show.

Sons usually derive their interests from their fathers. When I think of it, my father had few interests or hobbies in life. There is photography which I have a passing interest in, but every Sunday I know I was watching the NBA all the way back when Dick Stockton was calling games for CBS. And that's probably where the seed took place.

Seeing that I devoured whatever reading material was in our house, the Sports Illustrated subscription for Dad also benefited me, and not just the annual swimsuit edition. Mom picked up on this and moved me from Highlights for Children to Sports Illustrated for Kids. From there it was a wrap. In time, my breakfast viewing transformed from reruns of Sonic The Hedgehog and Widget to the rotating band of personalities of SportsCenter. While others were memorizing the fight moves of Hulk Hogan and the Ultimate Warrior, I marvelled at the beauty of Kareem's sky hook, even Magic's cute baby imitation. As others mastered Super Mario, I taught myself how to read the standings in the paper and compute averages, somehow nurturing my bookishness in the presumably simple area of win or lose. I drew ire from my schoolteachers not for class clownery or bullying, but rather my insistence to read the USA Today sports section during class.

That spirit developed over time. SportsCenter grew from 30 minutes in the mornng to 60 somewhere along the line and I found myself getting to school late a little more often. Basketball was my primary baptism. It was definitely my father's favorite and we both had a special place for Magic Johnson. He called me at school to tell me that he had contracted HIV and would be retiring. But even that is indicative of how I would approach sports from then on. I think that the ages of 8 - 13 are pretty important in the permanent impressions of a sports fan. This is where you are smart enough to comprehend but still young and innocent enough to be fed anything and totally believe. Since I was reading Sports Illustrated, which was national and unbiased, and also not limited to the mainstream sports, I just learned about everything. The black boy from New York City loved Magic Johnson, Frank Thomas, Emmitt Smith, Brian Leetch, and Dale Earnhardt. I skipped the Simpsons to watch Pavel Bure and the Canucks lose to the Rangers and see Mark Messier act like a loon with Lord Stanley's cup. As I watched it live, I prayed that my premonition that Dale died when he hit the wall was wrong, only to stop watching NASCAR for 5 years because of it. I make a point of watching the lacrosse championships every year, at least a half. I might buy a PSP just so I can play FIFA cause I love soccer that much.

As for my own allegiances, well it goes back to that formative period. Remember I was getting national perspective from Sports Illustrated which doesn't exactly foster any attitude except for fairness and just enjoying everything about sports. Plus the apathy of the city in general plus the dearth of successful teams didn't exactly inspire much fervor. Those Philly and Cleveland fans who dust themselves off after season with othing to show for it were indoctrinated by their fathers at that age that's who we root for. My program director is a perfect example. Raised in Connecticut till his early tweens, he was a Yankees fan. Upon moving to Massachusetts, the intense peer pressure - and boy is it intense - did not sway him to the Sox. The late 80s and early 90s were pretty quiet in New York, save for the Giants. Everybody else sucked. The Mets had lost their star players to free agency and cocaine. Donnie Baseball was the sole star on a frustrating Yankee franchise. The Knicks were ambling in the Eastern Conference. We won't speak of the Jets. Uhhh hockey what? In addition, Dad had no allegiance as a Jamaican immigrant. I loved Magic Johnson and therefore I loved the Lakers. So from then on I've been a fan of the individual athlete and whatever team he or she plays for. I hate the fickleness of it sometime. I'm jelaous of my boy Mocha and his undying devotion to anything Patriots and to a lesser degree Red Sox. Something about the commitment to heartbreak and the hope for victory is attractive. With sports, the most attractive thing to me is the game. I love to watch whatever it is I'm watching played. If I'm rooting for a team and they win, that's lovely. If they don't I still feel like I've enjoyed it. Lately I've always been pulling something new.

I think most sports fans can attest to that. It's the reason highlight reels are popular in the first place. Even though every clip is not going to include your player or team, you still watch for the simple fact that the act occurred at all and to relish it along with every one else. There is the intensity involved as well that somehow travels to the viewer. I was once so superstitious I though I wouldn't get into Duke because I didn't watch a game with my complete attention and Kentucky pulled off one of the biggest comebacks in NCAA Basketmball Tourney history. During last year's Division Series, I watched an entire Mets game from the same chair, topless, with my Mets visor cocked to my right side just so.

But there's something involved with the camaraderie as well. Though I love to highlight the individual, my favorite exhibitions are when the team works together. I liked Magic so much because he was an orchestrator. I fell in love with the Red Sox during my stay here because of the way they play, like a team. Same for the Patriots. And thank God its the same for my re-adopted Mets. I always try to teach my kids, if they feel like listening and seem like they want to understand, to share and move the ball around. I love the technique of it. I love the spontaneity. I love it all.

And the camaraderie aspect can probbably explain why I was quietly following the Mets all those years. Dad used to take me to baseball games pretty regularly, but we had no real allegiance so it was just a matter of motivation. I ended up at Shea more often than the Bronx just because of the proximity. I've known that route since I was seven (BQE to the Grand Central Parkway). I used to get excited to go to LaGuardia Airport just because I knew I would see Shea and its corny neon baseball stick figures on the walls. I remember feeling cold and distant in Yankee Stadium whereas Shea was always comfortable. Sitting on the third base line seeing Daryl Boston launch one into center left and seeing that apple rise in the outfield subconsciously hooked me. I remembere seeing Mookie Wilson stealing a base and getting all the way home on a throwing error. And something about that shade of blue with that shade of orange was strangely attracting. I recall being excited when we signed Bobby Bonilla for the largest contract ever, then being flatly disappointed when he ended up sucking. The lockout came and further eroded what had never been firmly in place. But Robin Ventura and Al Leiter brought me back with Grand Slam singles and ageless gems from the mound. There has been Kaz. But I've watched Reyes develop from a liability to a treasure and Wright being isolated that he can be the new face of baseball.

I will sally forth in my love of all things athletic. I've even become more athletic in my post pubescent years. I love it too when I get the chance. Only my insecurity in my underdeveloped abilities keeps me from going out more often. Please believe that a joy that laid nascent for a bit is fast arising again. Glad it's here.

Thursday, May 10, 2007

So Fresh

This old man thing is, well, I'm not sure. Over the past two weeks I have been waking up earlier than I am used to. Than I would like to. And we're talking about really early. Like birds chirp and Adam awakes early.

Honestly, I think I want to go back to sleep. But I can't. But I end up eventually waking up and feeling quite fine. Like right now I feel very relaxed and refreshed. The fact that I am actually committing coherent thought to digital form for the first time in a couple of days should be saying something.

I'm also accompanied this morning by an inspired playlist. I feel as though my computer is slowly dying. Because of that the enormous requirements of iTunes have made it unusable for anything else when that program is running. So I had to switch to Winamp, which uses less memory but for which I don't have playlists. So instead of picking and choosing what I would like to listen to I have to click a folder that most match my moods and pray the shuffle treats me well. But it is actually kind of cool to listen to music this way. In iTunes, I'm so trained to find what I want. With such a broad selection in Winamp, I really can't be too particular. And now I'm exposed to music I've forgotten or completely overlooked. Pretty awesome. Today's folder is the Soulquarians & Tongues, the music that pretty much made me an ardent music fan in my adolescence which I still feel I am in the middle of.

The Mets won.

I saw some soccer highlights.

I'm going home today.

I'm seeing Spiderman 3 on IMAX tonight

I'm seeing two of my friends tonight.

My hair should be cut pretty soon.

Hopefully I'll see my sister soon.

I am loved.

It's gonna be a good day.

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

Something I Learned Today

Do not drink two Rockstar Energy Drinks before going to bed for in fact your bedtime stay will be cut short immeasurably.

I know this because only 6.5 hours ago I decided to go in the opposite direction of my new knowledge. My desire to quench my thirst overwhelmed my common sense and I performed the deed. I actually fell asleep quite easily. It's just that was at 2:30 and I've been up since 6:30 a.m. And I mean UP.

So I've watched SportsCenter at 7. And I've eaten my Cinnamon Toast Crunch, which is a truly superior food.

Off to induce slumber.

Friday, April 13, 2007

My Computer

...is starting to show its age. Already I feel as though it has robbed me of 20 minutes of this increased productivity I have been granted. Off to the living room to sort laundry and watch SportsCenter.