October 13th, 2012 § 2 Comments

What is it about the human condition that makes us crave control with such voracity? Workaholism to obsessive/compulsive behaviors, addictions to rabid consumerism. What are we after? Some placid, comfortable numbness? Some summit Рsome untouchable transcendence? Me? Right now? I just want some guarantees.

That craving unchecked will take your legs out. The past few months, I’m afraid I’ve run about with my cravings unchecked. Soon enough, that appetite gets its “hands on the wheel and its foot on the pedal – stomped to the floor.” And you’re a wide eyed, white knuckled passenger in your own life. Couple weeks ago, I hit the wall. Thankfully. Hell, I’m tired. When I’m tired, I got nothing to say.

It’s ironic that we crave it so – control.¬†What we grasp of it is at best an illusion. And yet, even as an illusion, it destroys.

Fantasy Friday

October 5th, 2012 § Leave a Comment

Are you ready for some football … on Thursday?

No. No, I’m not. I have a job. I have a family. I’m not ready for Thursday Night Football. And the way the games go, apparently most players aren’t ready for ’em either. There’s a song kids listen to these days called … um, I don’t know what it’s called, but the bridge goes something like, “It’s not about the money, money, money. We don’t need your money, money, money. We just want to make the world dance. Forget about the price tag.” C’mon. I don’t believe her. Definitely not true in the National Football League: Fly teams midseason to London for the jet lag bowl. Lock out players. Lock out refs. And now they’ve expanded Thursday Night football throughout the regular season. You think the Arizona Cardinals wanted to play a late game Sunday, practice Monday-Wednesday, fly to St Louis and play on Thursday? Why would you put them through that? “It’s all about the money, money, money. We sure want your money, money, money. So we want to make the world watch. From Thursday night to Monday…”

Don’t know about you, but there’s something unsettling about playing players on Thursday night. Just like there’s something comforting about having a couple players going on Monday night. It’s like getting the first shot off. If you miss, you’re standing there in the open field, frantically loading your musket while your adversary takes a long, hard look at you. There’s a lot riding on that first shot. In light of last night’s ugly affair in St Louis, I’m beginning to wonder if that first shot isn’t fired off in less than ideal conditions – kinda like shooting in the fog. Something to think about the next time I have a marginal shot on a Thursday night.

What? No. Do I sound bitter? Did I start anyone last night, you ask? Yeah. (Sigh) I started three. Missed. I guess I’m a little bitter. Okay, yeah, maybe more than a little.

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