You spent your whole snow day making barcodes. That's Why I Dumped You.

love this song...

Death Cab for Cutie - Little Bribes from Ross Ching on Vimeo.

Marathon Monday 2009

Pomp & Circumstance

(This exchange occurred as I was effortlessly plowing through Jeopardy answers last night. Like some of you, I'm the guy who yells answers from the other room while barely paying attention, despite the silent-yet-palpable frustration of those sitting in front of the TV trying hard. )

Heather: Whenever we watch this I always think of how much you learned in high school. Because there's no way you learned all this in college.

Me: [giggle]

Heather: What did you learn in college?

Me: I learned about life.


I learned that drinking beer in the shower while getting ready to go out is the definition of liberty.

I learned no matter how many different ways you tell your buddy how terrible his girlfriend is, he has to find out for himself.

I learned that sticking with your crazy HS girlfriend while she's 3,000 miles away will ruin your first 2 years of college.

I learned that this is one of many acceptable excuses for why you stayed 7 years.

I learned that passing out onstage at the end of a show is a good way to get a speaker dropped on your head.

I learned that any discernible leadership skills you may have can be completely useless if you act like a dick.

I learned that if you happen to be involved in an ongoing investigation with the Tempe Police Department in which they try to bait you into incriminating your friend who didn't really break the law that badly, you can easily outsmart them at any turn by casually watching police dramas. For example, if you've already seen tactics like "send the hot female detective by herself" and "send the two biggest officers we have to try to intimidate the guy we're questioning" on TV, then you're one step ahead of TPD when they try it in real life. This also makes for a A+ final project in your Criminal Justice class.

I learned that frat guys are easier to outsmart than Tempe Police Officers.

I learned that when you throw a keg party and call it a "lacrosse fundraiser," karma will make sure that the ensuing police fines will often equal your exact take at the door.

I learned that if you're in a band, you don't need to go to the gym.

I learned that if your buddy cries hysterically at 3am about his broken family life after a night of drinking, that's not the last time that's going to happen.

I learned this very valuable lesson: If a girl walks into a party and is immediately dubbed "Hot Girl," the chances of her moniker changing to "Stupid" by the end of the night are strong.

I learned you can't make girls who aren't from Boston care about the Red Sox or the Patriots.

I learned that the bowl of flour sitting on top of your TV that says "Who's Next?" might refer to you.

I learned that if the candle in your homemade Rally Pumpkin burns out just as Grady Little walks to the mound, you should leave the bar (which I did, thankfully).

I learned how to spot fake boobs faster than I can identify gender.

I learned that a non-nude strip club with $0.25 beers is just as incredible as it sounds.

I learned that you can't sneak up on Vegas. You have to go in guns blazing. Don't be so naive to think that it doesn't know you're coming.

I learned that an unclaimed thong left at a party is either getting pinned to the wall or, if red, placed atop your Christmas tree.

I learned that a bar in Arizona filled with 400 exhausted and emotional Red Sox fans during their first World Series title in 86 years will begin chanting DUN-KIN DO-NUTS when they run out of players' names.

I learned that game has no camouflage. You can in fact wear sweatpants, a lotto t-shirt, and work boots to a bar and get laid.

I learned that snuggle time will always be ruined if your roommate hits his girlfriend in the head with an airborne pint glass, which ricochets and leaves a dent in the wall. You also have to pay for the dent.

I learned that a stranger who wakes up in a puddle of urine on your living room floor and can't find his pants, then heads up a 2-hour, 10-man search party that covers the entire house, yard, street and block probably should have looked in the microwave first.

I learned that microwaves can dry off wet pants.

I learned that if you yell "you don't have to do this if you don't want to" while you're hazing someone, then it's not hazing.

I learned that you will need to go to registrar's office no less than 3 times to accomplish something as simple as getting an email address.

I learned that more often than not, dressing like an idiot is the way to go.

I learned that any time you can sell a '93 Camry with no A/C and power steering that sounds like a garbage truck to three Swedish golfers who don't know what a spare tire is, for $3500, you make the deal.

I learned Bud Light + Taco Bell + liquid Nyquil = disaster in like 9 different ways.

And most importantly, I learned that it's perfectly plausible, if not likely, for your roommate to become a stripper, go on spring break in Cancun, end up on an MTV reality show, the footage for which then ends up in a documentary about out-of-control youth... which you end up watching in your Sociology class.


That's what I learned in college.

OH YOU BET YOUR F*N ASS

A Christmas timeline

12:38 - timmons gets the evite to Chris & Heather's WinterSlam 2008
12:39 - timmons IM's me saying its Robin's (some chick he's seeing) bday that night and he said hed go
12:40 - he emails robin
12:43 - she responds with this: If the Xmas party that you’ve known about for 5 minutes is more important than coming out for my birthday, then I really don’t know what to tell you. I’m beginning to think you are only interested in seeing me when you are drunk.

12:45 - The following guest has RSVP'd:
Sean Timmons will attend




God Bless us, everyone.

Supastahhh

The now-famous Jane & Coke everybody (00:11)... Jane and Coke.

Faith Revisited (Part 2)

While I don't claim to be a stats guy or an analysis guy (that stuff is better left to the experts), I'm a Red Sox guy. I'm a feeling guy. Something just doesn't feel right? We're doomed. The candle literally burns out inside the 2003 Rally Pumpkin, the very moment Pedro goes out for the ill-fated 8th? This isn't gonna end well. Something gives you that "wait-a-second...[pause]...[tingle]" moment of realization - i.e. the Kevin Millar walk, preceeding The Steal? When one of those happens, we just might have a shot.

Yesterday, as I stood in my kitchen, I overheard WEEI discussing a Tampa pitching change. Something clicked.

Wait a second. Why? Why the change? Why Kazmir? Why now? We own Kazmir.

I hope.

Or should I say... I Believe.

Faith Revisited (Part 1)

So here we are. For the third time in our three ALCS appearances in the past 5 years, we're down 3 games to 1, with Elimination breathing heavily down our necks. By the 6th inning of last night's laugher, I picked up Bill Simmons' emotional circus, Now I Can Die in Peace - a collection of his daily ESPN.com columns following every insane twist and turn in October of 2004. Back then, we looked to the columns as a way to put to words the emotions we were experiencing, as we were far too delirious to explain them ourselves. Non-Sox friends would as "How you doin?" I'd simply say, "Go read Simmons today." Last night, I needed that emotional charge again.

I flipped to the part of NICDIP written just after 2003's Game 7. Felt like a good place to start. Almost immediately, everything came rushing back. I remember sitting in the back tables at Maloney's in Tempe (a bar rumored to be named after Sam "Mayday" Malone, with a distinct "everybody knows your name" feel to it) half filled with Sox fans, half with Yankees fans. The glorious "WHERE IS RO-GER?" chants still echo in my mind. We had our Rally Pumpkin perched defiantly on the fireplace under the TVs. But then, cruelly, eerily, our only candle burned out, just as Pedro's lead slipped through his fingers. As with almost everything that happened in the minutes, days, months that followed... you can't make this stuff up.


I left the bar in the middle of the 11th, knowing exactly what was about to happen. I was almost to my car when I heard the cheers from the Yankee-filled deck wrapping around the bar. I looked back at the scene, and my eyes moved up to the tiny TV hanging overhead, just in time to see Boone's HR fall into the bleachers.

There are tons of stories from that post season, but that one still haunts me. And as I flipped through the pages, Simmons brought me back. It even got a little dusty in here.

And the best part of going back in time and reading history as it unfolds? You're taken back to those emotions, nearly as pure as when you first felt them. Tingles when we signed Schilling. Swagger after the A-Rod fight. Heck I remember my exact whereabouts when ESPN radio told me Schilling might come back for Game 6 at Yankee Stadium. Screeching to a stop, bounding out of my car and racing - almost skipping- down my walkway to tell my roommate what I'd just heard - that there might still be hope. It all comes back. And as we so wonderfully learned in 2004, our current 2008 situation might not be as hopeless as it seems, as it's always darkest before the dawn. So keep ya head up.

In terms of the book, I'm at the precipice of that Yankees series. And my emotions are so great I had to write something down. So here ya go. After this I'll probably pop Faith Rewarded into the DVD player for another go-around. I watched the 2007 Official World Series DVD immediately following last night's debacle, but all it talked about was how great the Manny/Papi duo is in the post season, how clutch Mike Lowell is in the spotlight, and how Curt Schilling's heroics saved the world again. I don't recommend this video to anyone right now. Don't even bother. If you're looking for inspiration - for hope - you need look no further than Faith Rewarded and Now I Can Die in Peace. Because while most of the faces have changed, the emotions will always be there.

After all, it feels so good [so good] to believe again.

Sidenote: All this memory lane stuff brings me back to a scenario posed to me a few years ago. I had just heard from a friend that my ex girlfriend ran into Derek Jeter and newly-turned-Yankee Johnny Damon at a Scottsdale nightclub. The immediate thought that ran through my head - who of the three would I save if the building caught fire and there was only time for one rescue before the ceiling caved in?

To be perfectly honest with you, at the time the answer was probably Jeter. Now... actually ya know what? Still Jeter.
Irregardless, let's win this thing.

(More tomorrow...)

The lines are in...

From: Ethan Furtek <withheld@gmail.com>
Sent: Tuesday, October 14, 2008 11:56:09 AM
Subject: [blank]

I'm guaranteeing victory tonight. Print it.

From: "Cicchetti, Nicholas J" <withheld@StateStreet.com>
Sent: Tuesday, October 14, 2008 12:04:27 PM

Noted. I will add to the pot a guaranteed 12:15 EST end time with Wake on the hill.