Today I have a legitimate football hangover.
As the NFL season wears on, I feel emotionally not unlike an actual player might physically. The weekly grind of my obsession with football slowly wears on my psyche like successive 30-carry games might on the knees of some aging running back. All the preseason research, all the monitoring of my Giants, all the study of the spreads and the weekly picks, all the management toil of my multiple fantasy teams - it adds up. And by season's end, though I'm undoubtedly sad to see football go, I, like the players, also need the rest. Being in Germany, with its "off" times for viewing, only compounds the problem.
Yesterday was a good reminder of that. Not only are my Giants falling into their pattern of recent late season collapses, but I'm embroiled in FOUR fantasy leagues in which playoff races are starting to form, and stress is starting to mount over whom to play and whom to sit. Pouring over weekly injury reports trying to glean who might play, start, and shine can be exhausting work. Coaching one team effectively is difficult enough. Coaching four with at least modest intensity? Very taxing.
Watching the games should be the easy part, but even during those there's the constant fretting about the down-to-down and general condition of my Giants (currently: not good) and the constant monitoring of the Stat-Tracker to make sure that my fantasy teams are putting up adequate numbers or that my opponents' teams are not. Rare is the game that I can simply sit back, relax, and enjoy as an "uninvolved" football fan.
I was on call over the weekend, so I felt mildly vindicated in staying up all night (in bed at 6 am) to watch the Patriots play the Eagles. Just "in case" the ER called I was all ready to go. They did NOT call, but I stayed up nevertheless, mostly because I wanted Tom Brady to do poorly. The reasons for this wish are numerous, but chief among them is that I am/was playing against him in one of my key fantasy games.
On a similar note I had a unique-if-not-pleasant football experience last night - that of rooting FOR the Eagles, the team that, along with the Cowboys, I most loathe and despise in this world. It was an odd, unsettling, and even nauseating sort of feeling, probably not unlike the one stranded mountain plane crash survivors experience when realizing they must turn to cannibalism to survive. True, it is no joy to eat fetid human flesh, but it DOES beat starvation.
And the equivalent of starvation here is the Patriots going undefeated and winning the Super Bowl. Like most people, I'm sick of them. I'm sick of their smug Boston scene, their cock-sure attitude, their Emperor Palpatine coach - the whole thing. They need to lose, even if it takes the Eagles to beat them.
The Eagles did NOT beat them, however, and thus the anxiety of this potential undefeated season goes on. The Giants play the Pats in week 17, and the thought of meek and possibly free-falling Eli Manning being the only thing standing between the Pats and an undefeated season is a bitter pill to swallow. The Steelers have the best shot at them I think, and we shall see what comes of that game in two weeks. In the end it might be better for them to go undefeated in the regular season and then NOT win the Super Bowl. This is perhaps the most soul-crushing and spite-filled way to go on the rooting scale but it's also too risky and probably asking too much - I'd rather have them be beaten now and then again in the post-season and be done with it.
That said, the ultimate goal must be them losing at some point in the post-season, preferably in their first playoff game. Then we might finally wipe the dark smirk off of Belichick's face and end chatter of this "best team ever" nonsense. (Besides, everyone knows the 1986 and 1990 Giants were both far superior, but I digress...)
In other news, the tree is up and as always is a giant success. Full photo-doc coming nearer to Christmas time itself - we'll call it my Christmas present to this blog.
Right now I have to go wash the taste of human flesh out of my mouth, ice my psyche, and prepare for another week of football.
Birthday and Beowulf: Exposed
It's the day after Thanksgiving, which means that the Christmas Season is officially upon us. Rather than join some consumer fracas at a nearby shopping outlet, having our courage and stamina tested by the flying elbows of other shoppers and our will to live sapped by ceaseless, repetitive, maddening holiday ballads, Gwen I have decided instead to stay at home, relax, and begin the season with our own holiday ritual: heavy drinking.
Kidding. The ritual of which I speak, of course, is The Tree. First erected in 2002, and now a seasonal tradition, it's one of my favorite things about the holidays. Gwen's too.
Rest assured that there will be more to follow (with photos) once the Tree is standing tall and set to illuminate the holidays. In the meantime, to keep appetites whetted, here is a flashback, to the 2006 version.
And now to other matters.
According to official documents, I turned 32 years old last Monday. Birthday festivities were minimal this year, mostly by my choice, but also by the fact that sheer numbers of people, with whom I could celebrate the day, were missing. We're in Europe for Pete's sake. (And speaking of Pete, even HE was away, being recently tasked with a two-week stint elsewhere in Germany to help with the medical reintegration of a unit returning from the desert.)
Despite the minimalism, my birthday was quite pleasant. I spent the early portion (midnight to roughly 2 am) watching the late football games. After a relatively uneventful work day, I fired up, on a lark, the Transformers Soundtrack during my drive home from work. It was cold and rainy outside of the car, to be sure, but inside the vehicle my heart was warm and aglow with the sweet musical stylings of the immortal Stan Bush. In my (now 32) years I've learned that if you want to feel good about yourself out of nowhere and on short notice, you'd be wise to fire up "You got the Touch" and "Dare" in quick succession on any nearby musical device. Not only will the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you learn that "when all hell's breakin' loose, you'll be right in the eye of the storm" and that "you never bend, you never break - you're a winner", but additionally you will find that your spirit soars while you reaffirm the ultimate truism, again supplied by Stan, that: "You can win - if you dare."
And I dare. Even at age 32.
Gwen and I went to dinner at our favorite Himalayan haunt that evening, and then retired to Man Room for some Planet Earth viewing - in Blu-Ray. The series, a gift from Gwendolyn for this particular occasion, is impressive. I don't know anyone sane who doesn't enjoy a good nature show, and from what I've seen so far this particular nature show takes the cake. Narrated by the cast-iron voiced Richard Attenborough, of "Trials of Life" fame, I can honestly pronounce that a man hasn't lived until he's seen a Great White shark breach, at 1/40th speed, its entire body out of the water, a hapless and doomed seal clutched in its gargantuan jaws, its soulless black eyes staring menacingly at nothing, a million water droplets - testament to the surface eruption - spraying, moving so slowly that they seem to crawl across the screen, in full BLU-RAY 1080i, colors and contrasts all brilliantly displayed, the trials of life indeed on full display... Now this is a ****ing nature show! Viagra for the male brain.
I would be remiss in not mentioning that Gwendolyn (who was responsible for all the successes of the day - even the Transformers Soundtrack reaffirmations; she had bought me the CD on a prior birthday) also cooked me a scrumptious chocolate on chocolate on ice cream dessert for the occasion. Absolutely delicious. Aside from Planet Earth, there were other gifts, including a gaming headset (for my growing obsession with TF2) and a pet puppy! To clarify, this is my new pet, named Tekno, and though at times electronically demonic (especially the colored eyes) also quite hilarious. So again very nice work by Gwendolyn. I'll go ahead and place this particular birthday in the "success" column.
Yesterday was Thanksgiving, which we spent at Gwen's boss's house. It was a nice event, marred only slightly by the anxiety of being on call, which we both were, and are. The whole call fiasco necessitated taking separate cars.
On Wednesday night, before Thanksgiving, and more importantly before call, we went to the local cinema and caught a show of "Beowulf", which I'm told is the latest in the new wave of hyper-stylized digital film making. Supposedly the movie is visually spectacular in a 3D viewing arena, but we settled merely for a normal old-fashioned theater. And visually the movie is pretty good in every respect but the human face, which still comes off as mostly creepy and animatronic.
The movie itself is middling, in my opinion. It had its moments I guess, but overall it fell kind of a flat. If feels like a "300" cousin in style ("I...AM...BEOWULF!" sounds remarkably like "THIS...IS...SPARTA!"), but not as good as that (also just OK, in my opinion) film. What I'll mostly take away, other than some over the top stylized Angelina Jolie near soft-porn, is the scene in which Beowulf fights Grendel - naked. It's kind of a head-scratcher. He (Beowulf) no sooner arrives at the Great Hall (briefly attending a feast so he can proclaim himself the greatest hero ever), only to disrobe completely a few moments later while everyone attempts to lure the creature, and explains this odd action by declaring boldly that Grendel "fights with neither sword nor armor, and thus neither will I". And when Grendel (portrayed as some sort of giant, strong, uglier gollum, and troubled constantly by the mother of all earaches) does arrive, he too is in the buff. What ensues - in a ridiculous spectacle - is a sculpted and naked Beowulf acrobatically flipping around the Great Hall, alternating attacks with dodges, (his package always covered by some shadow, candlestick, sword of one of his men also engaged with the creature, Grendel's shoulder, something), his long golden hair whipping around, like some sort of homoerotic, nordic ninja. The only reason I wasn't laughing outright was because I was still caught, for most of the fight, in the shock of the sheer disbelief of what I was seeing. It was most odd. But also quite fabulous!
Apparently, Beowulf too, knows that, he can win if he dares.
Kidding. The ritual of which I speak, of course, is The Tree. First erected in 2002, and now a seasonal tradition, it's one of my favorite things about the holidays. Gwen's too.
Rest assured that there will be more to follow (with photos) once the Tree is standing tall and set to illuminate the holidays. In the meantime, to keep appetites whetted, here is a flashback, to the 2006 version.
And now to other matters.
According to official documents, I turned 32 years old last Monday. Birthday festivities were minimal this year, mostly by my choice, but also by the fact that sheer numbers of people, with whom I could celebrate the day, were missing. We're in Europe for Pete's sake. (And speaking of Pete, even HE was away, being recently tasked with a two-week stint elsewhere in Germany to help with the medical reintegration of a unit returning from the desert.)
Despite the minimalism, my birthday was quite pleasant. I spent the early portion (midnight to roughly 2 am) watching the late football games. After a relatively uneventful work day, I fired up, on a lark, the Transformers Soundtrack during my drive home from work. It was cold and rainy outside of the car, to be sure, but inside the vehicle my heart was warm and aglow with the sweet musical stylings of the immortal Stan Bush. In my (now 32) years I've learned that if you want to feel good about yourself out of nowhere and on short notice, you'd be wise to fire up "You got the Touch" and "Dare" in quick succession on any nearby musical device. Not only will the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you learn that "when all hell's breakin' loose, you'll be right in the eye of the storm" and that "you never bend, you never break - you're a winner", but additionally you will find that your spirit soars while you reaffirm the ultimate truism, again supplied by Stan, that: "You can win - if you dare."
And I dare. Even at age 32.
Gwen and I went to dinner at our favorite Himalayan haunt that evening, and then retired to Man Room for some Planet Earth viewing - in Blu-Ray. The series, a gift from Gwendolyn for this particular occasion, is impressive. I don't know anyone sane who doesn't enjoy a good nature show, and from what I've seen so far this particular nature show takes the cake. Narrated by the cast-iron voiced Richard Attenborough, of "Trials of Life" fame, I can honestly pronounce that a man hasn't lived until he's seen a Great White shark breach, at 1/40th speed, its entire body out of the water, a hapless and doomed seal clutched in its gargantuan jaws, its soulless black eyes staring menacingly at nothing, a million water droplets - testament to the surface eruption - spraying, moving so slowly that they seem to crawl across the screen, in full BLU-RAY 1080i, colors and contrasts all brilliantly displayed, the trials of life indeed on full display... Now this is a ****ing nature show! Viagra for the male brain.
I would be remiss in not mentioning that Gwendolyn (who was responsible for all the successes of the day - even the Transformers Soundtrack reaffirmations; she had bought me the CD on a prior birthday) also cooked me a scrumptious chocolate on chocolate on ice cream dessert for the occasion. Absolutely delicious. Aside from Planet Earth, there were other gifts, including a gaming headset (for my growing obsession with TF2) and a pet puppy! To clarify, this is my new pet, named Tekno, and though at times electronically demonic (especially the colored eyes) also quite hilarious. So again very nice work by Gwendolyn. I'll go ahead and place this particular birthday in the "success" column.
Yesterday was Thanksgiving, which we spent at Gwen's boss's house. It was a nice event, marred only slightly by the anxiety of being on call, which we both were, and are. The whole call fiasco necessitated taking separate cars.
On Wednesday night, before Thanksgiving, and more importantly before call, we went to the local cinema and caught a show of "Beowulf", which I'm told is the latest in the new wave of hyper-stylized digital film making. Supposedly the movie is visually spectacular in a 3D viewing arena, but we settled merely for a normal old-fashioned theater. And visually the movie is pretty good in every respect but the human face, which still comes off as mostly creepy and animatronic.
The movie itself is middling, in my opinion. It had its moments I guess, but overall it fell kind of a flat. If feels like a "300" cousin in style ("I...AM...BEOWULF!" sounds remarkably like "THIS...IS...SPARTA!"), but not as good as that (also just OK, in my opinion) film. What I'll mostly take away, other than some over the top stylized Angelina Jolie near soft-porn, is the scene in which Beowulf fights Grendel - naked. It's kind of a head-scratcher. He (Beowulf) no sooner arrives at the Great Hall (briefly attending a feast so he can proclaim himself the greatest hero ever), only to disrobe completely a few moments later while everyone attempts to lure the creature, and explains this odd action by declaring boldly that Grendel "fights with neither sword nor armor, and thus neither will I". And when Grendel (portrayed as some sort of giant, strong, uglier gollum, and troubled constantly by the mother of all earaches) does arrive, he too is in the buff. What ensues - in a ridiculous spectacle - is a sculpted and naked Beowulf acrobatically flipping around the Great Hall, alternating attacks with dodges, (his package always covered by some shadow, candlestick, sword of one of his men also engaged with the creature, Grendel's shoulder, something), his long golden hair whipping around, like some sort of homoerotic, nordic ninja. The only reason I wasn't laughing outright was because I was still caught, for most of the fight, in the shock of the sheer disbelief of what I was seeing. It was most odd. But also quite fabulous!
Apparently, Beowulf too, knows that, he can win if he dares.
Untitled
Winter is in the air here in Germany, a fact augmented by the abrupt temperature difference noted upon returning last week from Jacksonville, Florida. And since we've been back, the mercury has continued to slowly but steadily drop, a sign winter is creeping in and preparing to lay its dark, bleak shroud of icy cold over greater Europe. The time change hasn't helped things, with darkness settling in successively faster each night; soon it will be rare to leave work in daylight. Grilling, one of our recent preferred modes of cooking, appears to be done for the season for obvious reasons.
Technically it's supposed to be fall, but why even kid ourselves? The leaves turned color a few weeks back, and it was pretty indeed, with classic oranges, yellows, and reds covering the hills and our streets. That time was short lived, however, and just as we noted the leaves changing we nearly as quickly noticed a few windy, rainy days which washed the leaves away and seemingly the whole of autumn with them. Now, mostly bare branches remain.
The older I get the less I deal well with "seasons", especially non-temperate ones. Perhaps spending my tender teen years in Southern California spoiled me, but I now find the cold and dark more than just cold and dark, I find them almost depressing. (Last year I had no such qualms. Having just returned from the desert, I found the cold one hell of a nice change. What a difference a year makes.)
The trip to Florida was my fifth trip to the States since March, which is a pretty insane number for a non-business traveler when I think about it. Those flights are long, dammit! The East Coast trip is generally a much easier physiologic and psychologic experience than the West Coast trip - those extra three hours make a big difference in jet lag for some reason. Out of all five trips, something went logistically wrong with at least one leg in every single journey, a sure sign that the airline industry is in a mild to moderate state of shambles. Twice bags were lost, including upon our arrival to Jacksonville this last time. Multiple planes were delayed and twice flights were canceled outright. Because of flight delays, I've spent more time running through airports to make connections in the last year than ever before, with memorable sprints through Heathrow, Amsterdam, and most recently Charlotte to name a few. Twice these sprints were successful, but both resulted in delayed luggage.
The trip to Jacksonville was quite pleasant and restful. Occasionally its nice to have a trip designed primarily for mingling and vegetation, which it seemed this one was. I was able to meet much of Gwen's family (mother's side), and found them all very gracious and accepting - for lack of a better term. Gwen's mom has a knack for interior design and is quite the gifted seamstress. The flowery and richly-materialed home she shares with Gwen's step-dad was a stark reminder of our own spartan-by-comparison living, but it certainly made for a congenial place to relax. I quite enjoyed it and the trip overall.
As always, the icing on the cake of any trip back stateside is the ability to step back into American culture, albeit briefly. For this trip, and at the risk of being branded an American consumer zealot, I'm speaking mostly of Best Buy and Starbucks here. I don't know why the Germans can't figure out that a large sippable coffee that can actually be taken to go isn't a good idea, because it IS a good idea - a very good idea in fact. And I was reminded of this notion each time I took a sip of one of my repeatedly purchased venti hazelnut lattes, thank you very much.
The Germans do better in the Best Buy arena, but the electronics stores here in Europe are useless to me because of regional differences in electronics compatibility. Because of this, I'm relegated to the base offerings and and have few other options. There's always internet shopping, but its not quite the same as wandering through aisles upon aisles of an electronic candy store. So its always with a high degree of glee that I return to Best Buy on each successive trip home. There's always some new piece of technology on the market (like the iPhone, for example) to marvel at, and the multiple racks of up to date video games are a sight to behold. My normal electronics shopping here in Germany consists of what the base PX can provide, and though I shouldn't complain by any means, to compare the local AAFES "Power Zone" to a Best Buy is to compare a Soviet era bread line to a large Parisian bakery.
Since our return from the States, Gwen and I have slowly settled back into routine. Excluding short day trips, we probably won't be traveling significantly again until the holidays. Work is work, and I'm at the point in my Army career where I'm starting to look PAST my Army career. The coming of the new year will mark the 18-month point of time I have left. I'm told that the last 12 months happen quickly, and a lot of that time will be spent doing inordinate amounts of separation paperwork (shocker) and looking for a job, housing, etc. I'm actually looking quite forward to it. Odds are I'll probably take a few months off in general after getting out before settling into any sort of steady job or routine, but we'll see.
Either way, it will be nice to at last be done "protecting" freedom and instead be able to experience it. I might even grow my goatee back.
Technically it's supposed to be fall, but why even kid ourselves? The leaves turned color a few weeks back, and it was pretty indeed, with classic oranges, yellows, and reds covering the hills and our streets. That time was short lived, however, and just as we noted the leaves changing we nearly as quickly noticed a few windy, rainy days which washed the leaves away and seemingly the whole of autumn with them. Now, mostly bare branches remain.
The older I get the less I deal well with "seasons", especially non-temperate ones. Perhaps spending my tender teen years in Southern California spoiled me, but I now find the cold and dark more than just cold and dark, I find them almost depressing. (Last year I had no such qualms. Having just returned from the desert, I found the cold one hell of a nice change. What a difference a year makes.)
The trip to Florida was my fifth trip to the States since March, which is a pretty insane number for a non-business traveler when I think about it. Those flights are long, dammit! The East Coast trip is generally a much easier physiologic and psychologic experience than the West Coast trip - those extra three hours make a big difference in jet lag for some reason. Out of all five trips, something went logistically wrong with at least one leg in every single journey, a sure sign that the airline industry is in a mild to moderate state of shambles. Twice bags were lost, including upon our arrival to Jacksonville this last time. Multiple planes were delayed and twice flights were canceled outright. Because of flight delays, I've spent more time running through airports to make connections in the last year than ever before, with memorable sprints through Heathrow, Amsterdam, and most recently Charlotte to name a few. Twice these sprints were successful, but both resulted in delayed luggage.
The trip to Jacksonville was quite pleasant and restful. Occasionally its nice to have a trip designed primarily for mingling and vegetation, which it seemed this one was. I was able to meet much of Gwen's family (mother's side), and found them all very gracious and accepting - for lack of a better term. Gwen's mom has a knack for interior design and is quite the gifted seamstress. The flowery and richly-materialed home she shares with Gwen's step-dad was a stark reminder of our own spartan-by-comparison living, but it certainly made for a congenial place to relax. I quite enjoyed it and the trip overall.
As always, the icing on the cake of any trip back stateside is the ability to step back into American culture, albeit briefly. For this trip, and at the risk of being branded an American consumer zealot, I'm speaking mostly of Best Buy and Starbucks here. I don't know why the Germans can't figure out that a large sippable coffee that can actually be taken to go isn't a good idea, because it IS a good idea - a very good idea in fact. And I was reminded of this notion each time I took a sip of one of my repeatedly purchased venti hazelnut lattes, thank you very much.
The Germans do better in the Best Buy arena, but the electronics stores here in Europe are useless to me because of regional differences in electronics compatibility. Because of this, I'm relegated to the base offerings and and have few other options. There's always internet shopping, but its not quite the same as wandering through aisles upon aisles of an electronic candy store. So its always with a high degree of glee that I return to Best Buy on each successive trip home. There's always some new piece of technology on the market (like the iPhone, for example) to marvel at, and the multiple racks of up to date video games are a sight to behold. My normal electronics shopping here in Germany consists of what the base PX can provide, and though I shouldn't complain by any means, to compare the local AAFES "Power Zone" to a Best Buy is to compare a Soviet era bread line to a large Parisian bakery.
Since our return from the States, Gwen and I have slowly settled back into routine. Excluding short day trips, we probably won't be traveling significantly again until the holidays. Work is work, and I'm at the point in my Army career where I'm starting to look PAST my Army career. The coming of the new year will mark the 18-month point of time I have left. I'm told that the last 12 months happen quickly, and a lot of that time will be spent doing inordinate amounts of separation paperwork (shocker) and looking for a job, housing, etc. I'm actually looking quite forward to it. Odds are I'll probably take a few months off in general after getting out before settling into any sort of steady job or routine, but we'll see.
Either way, it will be nice to at last be done "protecting" freedom and instead be able to experience it. I might even grow my goatee back.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)