"Kingdom Come"

In the last week or so since my last post, I noticed several things. And rather than wait and give each topic a full write-up, I thought I’d mix it up a little. I’ve done this in the past, but I don’t do it as often I should, maybe. According to Wikipedia, 'blog' is a commentary on a particular subject. As I’ve written before, I’m not one to go with the popular opinion. I don’t buy into LeBron being the next “larger-than-life” superstar in the League. I don’t believe in the Global Warming hype. And I certainly don’t accept the fact that blogs have to be about one certain subject. I’ve got too much going on in my head to do that. So without further ado, off we go…

- There’s an organization based out of Asheville, NC called “Five Day Weekend.” The M.O. of this group is as simple as the name sounds – establish a two-day work week. Their argument is that people would be more productive in a two-day work week. They offer the explanation that generally, people only put in two good days of work per week anyways, so they might as well take the other three off. On their website (www.fivedayweekend.org/aboutus.cfm) they offer very formidable statistics, but they jump off the deep end when attempting to institute this proposition. Sure, Americans may waste vacation days, and yes, European workers are given far more vacation time per year than the average American, but why not introduce the suggestion of getting equal vacation time as our European counterparts instead of suggesting working only a third of the year?

Did I mention that the founder of this organization is an actor and a writer, and he only has to work two days a week because his pay scale is so much greater than the average American?

And what company is going to offer to pay their employees 250% more to work 60% less per week? Everywhere I’ve worked, I found it difficult to make $10/hour working 40 hours a week, doing the work of two people. I don’t believe employers are going to buy into the “opportunity” to increase expenses for a “potential.”

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- I understand that the Mavericks pulled it out last night to bring the series to 3-2, but can you imagine the ramifications of a series loss to the Warriors? The Mavs were two wins from the Larry O’Brien trophy last summer, and they won 67 games this year to boot. They’re one loss away from spending the rest of the summer at home.

That’s the funny thing about the NBA. It doesn’t matter how good you are, if you don’t match-up well against an opponent, you’re done. I said it at the beginning of this series – “I’m scared for the Mavs.” They don’t match-up. Small guards (Mavs) have no chance against bigger, more physical guards (Warriors). And the reigning “Coach of the Year” award winner isn’t supposed to play down to his opponent. Through 82 regular season games, Avery Johnson had all the answers. He had the right line-up on the floor seemingly every night. But for Game 1 of the series he plays down to his opponent and starts two point guards, two small forwards and Dirk against the Warriors. Dumb.

If the Mavericks do lose in this first round – mark down the date of this blog – I’m predicting a total MCM – Mark Cuban Meltdown. Cuban hates to lose. In the event they do lose the series (or fail to reach the Finals, no less) expect Cuban to drastically change the roster and coaching staff. He’ll call KG, Jermaine O’Neal, Vinsanity, and Chauncey to see about their desire to come to Dallas. Shoot, he’d call Dr. J, Jordan, Magic, and Larry Legend if he’d thought it’d help. Just know that I’ve said it. MCM.

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- Here’s a taste of some of the music I’ve been listening to lately…

:: “Call Me Irresponsible” by Michael Bublé – Absolutely incredible album.
:: “Southern Weather” by The Almost – Aaron Gillespie’s side project. Think Underoath without the screaming tendencies. Great album.
:: “The Yearbook” by KJ-52 – forget for a second that it’s Christian Rap, and listen to his words. While you’re at it, check out a track from one of his earlier albums titled ‘Dear Slim.’ Good stuff.

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- Michael Vick is in hot water… AGAIN! I can’t say that I’m shocked though. I’d be more surprised to go two weeks without hearing his name in the news. In the past year alone, he’s been involved in incident after incident. He’s been in pictures on MySpace smoking blunts with minors, he’s been caught up in the Water Bottle Scandal, he’s posed as Ron Mexico and allegedly gave a woman an STD, he “missed” a flight to D.C. for an appearance to sway lobbyists to increase funding for after-school programs, and now this.

Vick owns a home in Virginia and some of his family occupies the residence. Recent reports out of VA say that illegal dog-fighting rings and possible drug-trafficking have been held on the property. Allegedly, Vick has participated in the breeding of Pit Bulls for the specific purpose of fighting. Investigators have also seized illegal ammunition, impounded 70 dogs, and truckloads of equipment used to train fighting dogs – whips, chains, treadmills, injectable drugs, and more. While Vick denies the allegations, two news stations in VA have stated that they have eyewitness accounts of Vick being in town and at the home in recent weeks, prior to the investigation.

As for me, I’m done with Vick. I don’t care how good an athlete he is, or how much revenue he brings this city, I’m done. He’s proven time and time again that he’s not worthy of the hype, he’s not the model citizen he claims to be, and I’m through with the antics. Dog fighting? Drug trafficking? At this point, I don’t care if he was involved at all. The fact that this is yet another incident attached to his name is enough for me to give him the boot.

Here’s to the Joey Harrington era in Atlanta.

"It's Time"

I remember as a kid beginning the “School’s Out” countdown as soon as the Christmas Holiday was over. I remember asking the teacher to use the top right-hand portion of the blackboard as a way to update the number of days remaining. But the days never passed by quick enough. Waiting for the daily digits to decrease is distressing to a student. (Alliteration is fun. Too bad there’s not a “D-word” for student.) "Summer break is always so short, but it takes forever to get through a week of school.” The thought of every student nationwide.

It’s not quite the same for me. While kids across the country are dying to get out of school, I’m longing for the day when I can go back.

I haven’t been to school since the spring of 2003. I was on track for a degree in Journalism and I was rocking and rolling with a GPA over 3.0 through my freshman year. The first semester of my sophomore year was another story…

I had the thought in my head that I could juggle working full-time, going to school full-time – completely online, no less – being a full-time volunteer at my church, and being a full-time boyfriend. I had success at teaching myself college algebra my freshman year, so I thought I could duplicate the same results with pre-calculus. (I had to teach myself college algebra because my professor had a THICK African accent, and I couldn’t understand him at all. So every night, I’d skip ahead a chapter and already know what he was going to “talk” – at least I think he was talking – about at the next class. But pre-calculus is a completely different beast.)

Needless to say, with so much on my plate, I had to make a decision. I withdrew from all my classes – or so I thought – and decided to put school on the backburner. However I withdrew, it apparently wasn’t the correct way, and I failed three classes that I didn’t even take. You can imagine what three failed classes can do to someone’s GPA, not to mention someone’s HOPE Scholarship.

Once my GPA dropped below the allowed limit to receive the HOPE, I made the decision that had already been made for me. I stopped going to school, focused on my work, volunteering and my wife-to-be.

But I’m ready to go back. The days on the calendar won’t switch over fast enough. May 21. It’s really not that far off, but at the same time it’s so far away.

I just never thought I’d be so excited about going to school. I’m delirious.

"How To Start A Fire"

Maybe I have an inferiority complex. Maybe I can’t live with the fact that I’m a “second-rate citizen.”

Maybe I should just pull a Brooke and go ballistic for something seemingly insignificant. (Watch the whole thing - it's worth it. It has to rank pretty high on the "Unintentional Comedy Scale." What about it, Bill?)

(Ok, I’m not going to go that far. But I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t think about it.)

Let me set up the scene…

I TiVoed the Thrashers/Rangers game from Tuesday night because Rachel and I were going out and I wanted to watch it later. Being the first playoff appearance for the Thrashers, I wanted to make sure I caught every minute of the action. I kept from watching the “Bottom Line” on the Worldwide Leader the entire night to ensure that I would truly enjoy the game without knowing the result of the game beforehand.

When we got home, I made a late night snack, set-up the DVD-Recorder, and plopped down to enjoy Game 3. My wife tried to ruin the outcome for me a couple times before she finally went to bed. Let’s just say, I kind of wish she had before I spent 2 hours recording the game to DVD.

(That’s a lie. I would’ve been more upset had she said anything.)

The Rangers scored the game’s opening goal 31 seconds in, and the Thrashers were done from there.

Keith Tkachuk was brought in at the trade deadline to offer leadership to the younger players – like Ilya Kovalchuk – and he allowed the most hated man in the league (as voted by his peers) to get under his skin. (That’s right, Sean Avery. You know him from Cribs and the significant other of Elisha Cuthbert.) Kovy finally got his revenge on Avery in the third though.

Nothing went right for the Thrashers on this night. They were outhustled, outmuscled, outplayed in every aspect of the game. Frustration boiled over in Hoss and Slava – two normally cool characters. Long story short, the Rangers won the game 7-0.

7-0! And to boot, this game gave me more reason to hate New York. Towards the end of the second period, Rangers fans began to mock the Tomahawk Chop in the stands. I guess if you can’t beat the Braves, you have to mock them, right? In the middle of the third, over the P.A. they began to play “Sweet Caroline” by Neil Diamond. Usually, there’s no problem here. I’m a big Neil Diamond fan. But, when the Red Sox play the same song during the 7th Inning Stretch in Fenway, and New Yorkers want to make it their own, something’s not right. Too often, New Yorkers talk about how much better they are than Bostonians, and how they don’t want to be like them… But then they steal their trademark? Nice.

Anyway, here’s a running list I’ve created for all the reasons I hate New York, in no particular order (and I’m sure it will get longer in no time):

1. Aaron Freakin’ Boone – killed the Sox in ’03 ALCS
2. Jeff Van Gundy’s Hair – at least he cut it when he got to Houston
3. $80 hotel rooms the size of a shoe box
4. George Steinbrenner
5. Derek Jeter – overrated defensively, and not that good-looking. Enough said.
6. Sean Avery – see above
7. A-Rod – stupid nickname, purple lips, sissy slap. At least he didn’t come to the Sox.
8. Taxi fares – $30 for three blocks? Are you kidding me?
9. Jets fans – they boo everyone the Jets pick in the Draft. The Jets could select Jesus himself, and they’d boo.
10. Isiah Thomas – terrible coach, terrible executive, but heck of a talent scout. Go figure.
11. 2006-2007 New York Knicks – highest paid bunch of losers in history of NBA. Everything that’s wrong with the NBA in a nutshell.
12. I Love New York – no, I don’t!
13. Bucky Freakin’ Dent – killed the Sox in ’78 to take away Pennant
14. Michael Kay
15. James Dolan – my grandmother could run the Knicks better than this guy.
16. New York Times
17. Every “thug” teenager that acts like their life is an audition for The Sopranos.
18. Dirty Water Dogs
19. The Yankees 26 Championships and how every Yankee fan believes they had a part in each of them.
20. 1996 World Series – Braves were the better team that year. Ask any intelligent sports writer.
21. (In that same vein) Jim Leyritz – his batting stance irked the devil out of me.
22. Sex & the City - eeeww
23. Dirty, dingy subways
24. John Starks, Patrick Ewing, Charles Oakley, Charles Smith, and Derek Harper – I couldn’t stand those guys!
25. The Eli Manning Experiment – I feel for him. He’s not Peyton. And his facial expressions say the same.
26. Jeffrey Maier

There’s more, but I’ll leave it at that.

How do you start a fire? Start talking about New York. You’ll see.

"Hey, I'm A Ghost"

Doubt is time-waster. I don’t understand how people can be atheists in that regard.

Many people have inner discussions to “decide” whether or not there is an all-knowing being and Creator. How a person can make a decision based on non-qualifying stipulations is beyond me, anyways. It’s no different than me coming to the conclusion that there is no such thing as a million dollars. I’ve never seen it, so you can’t convince me that much money really exists.

OK, so you’re an atheist. In the event that there is no God, what then? Where do you go from there? What’s the point of living if there is no consequence for the life you live – whether reward or penalty? So what if you’re a good person. If there’s no reward for doing so, why does it matter what you do? So you spend all this time trying to figure out if there is enough evidence, come to the conclusion that there is no proof to His existence, only to… What? Why are you on the Earth? How did you get here? What’s your purpose?

Incertitude is a good-for-nothing attribute brought on by self-inflicted thoughts and wonders. In the time I’ve been thinking about this post, I haven’t been able to come up with a single time when doubt is helpful. Someone tells you a story and you doubt its truth and relevance. What’s the point in wasting time trying to decipher the validity of someone’s claim? Lies always find a person out. Every time. That time could be better spent doing something a little more constructive – like watching inane videos on YouTube or clipping your toe nails.

Speaking of which, I’ve got a perfect season going on NHL ’06. One way or another, the Thrashers will win the Cup.

"Friction"

I’ve been rubbed the wrong way so many times in the last two years, I’m raw. Aloe Vera can’t help. The makers of Vaseline chuckle and comment under their collective breath, “Oooo, that’s not looking good.”

The most recent of incidents drew blood – figuratively. I’d probably use stronger language if blood had actually been shed. (Actually, I’d probably have to run this column by my lawyer just to make sure I could publish it.)

Back to the story at hand. Everyone knows the cliché “you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.” I’ve come to the understanding that it couldn’t be truer.

Rachel and I moved into our apartment last March. Everything was great. Except for the occasional argument our downstairs neighbors had – which we could hear perfectly from our master bathroom. We never understood why all of their arguments took place in the bathroom of all places. Regardless, as often as it happened – maybe once a month or every six weeks – Rachel and I would complain about it. …And thus our real problems began. Without going further, I’ll go ahead and give you the moral of the story right here:

Complaining about little, insignificant things without attempting to do anything to make a change will ALWAYS lead to bigger, more significant problems.

(You can probably imagine where I’m going with this…)

They moved out in August, and we had a month of peace and quiet. No more early morning toilet confrontations. And we were satisfied. Until September…

The people that moved in September are – for lack of better description – the quintessential stereotype of African-Americans. (Take into account that my best friend is Black, so any thought you might have about me being a racist is erroneous.) Although they have the same 2 bedroom apartment layout that we have, I still to this day do not understand how so many people can live together. Here’s a little of the specs: 4 women (all between the ages of 15-24), three young boys (assumedly the children of one – or each – of the women), and occasionally anywhere between 2-5 men (between the ages of 15-27 maybe). There are so many people living together that a police officer asked us if they were Hispanic when we told him how many there were. (I’ve already let the cat out of the bag.)

We’ve actually had to call the cops out a grand total of six times. For what? I’m glad you asked. 2:30AM parties, thumping bass at 3:15AM, yelling and screaming at 11PM, Dance Party Revolution get-togethers in the parking lot under our bedroom window at 1:45AM, smoking weed and drinking in the same parking lot, and the most unnerving of them all: gunfire.

While one of the women and her brother were arguing one night around 11:00, we’d had enough of it. At this point we’ve already notified the management of our displeasure with our neighbors. We’ve called the police five times and we were ready for a change. In the midst of their heated exchange, I poked my head out of the front door and loudly and forcefully asked them to keep it down. Seconds later, Rachel jumped up and down on the floor to again notify our neighbors of our unhappiness. What followed was the most terrifying event of my life.

I can’t count how many times I’ve heard the message of desensitization – how before a kid finishes college, he will have witnessed over 70,000 murders via television, movies and video games. Sure, maybe I’ve seen that many – just in Casino Royale, I probably saw 25 alone – but I can tell you that I am definitely NOT desensitized. Not in the least.

Shortly after Rachel banged on the floor, we heard their front door open and heard five rounds unloaded into the sky. I’ve played Grand Theft Auto, I own Saving Private Ryan and I loved Blood Diamond, but nothing could have prepared me for the terror I experienced that night. It’s a different feeling to watch someone get shot in the head by a sniper in a movie than to hear the echoes of the discharge of a 9mm firearm in the halls of your apartment building.

I am in no way condoning the allowance of children to play violent video games or watch movies or television shows with similar content. What I am saying is that the desensitization message is a little muddled. I have no doubt that true love and relationship from father to son, mother to daughter and vice versa are the solutions to the homeostatic quandaries we hear about on the news everyday.

And sometimes face.

Oh, how we long for our previous neighbors...

"Five Score and Seven Years Ago"

I listen to a lot of music. A lot. A lot. And there’s nothing that makes me quite as happy as good music.

I love to watch bands evolve into more mature artists. What “scene kids” call selling-out, I call progression. Just because bands like Blindside and P.O.D. aren’t the atypical metal bands that they were when they first came around doesn’t mean they sold out for the almighty dollar. It shows maturity, experience and an understanding of who they are, not only as musicians, but as people. And it’s so much fun to watch the transition of these bands from album to album. The most recent being Relient K.

When I was introduced Relient K, I enjoyed their music, but I didn’t think they’d make such a big impression on the landscape of pop-rock music. They were a band that made music about the Thundercats, sappy high school crushes, and Seventeen Magazine. It just didn’t seem like the meaningful, developed subject matter that artists need to make the necessary impact on the scene to stick around for very long.

In all honesty, Relient K had lost my interest since their sophomore album “The Anatomy of Tongue in Cheek.” I can’t begin to tell you my thoughts on “MmHmm,” “Two Lefts Don’t Make a Right…But Three Do,” or the “Apathetic EP.” I don’t have an opinion because I didn’t listen to a single track from any of the three. I’m not going to spout off opinions on a subject that I have absolutely no information about. I was born at night, but not last night, thank you very much!

Let’s just say my interest has been re-reached its zenith with the newest installment from the boys from Canton, OH. As special as that sounds (thanks Rachel), I don’t know how else to describe it. “Five Score and Seven Years Ago” has been billed by the band as “by far, our best effort to date” (RelientK.com). And are they ever right. With the exception of one track – “Faking My Own Suicide,” which sounds like a bad audition on Nashville Star – the album is absolutely stellar. The rawness of the pure emotion laid into each of the tracks is evident, and listeners can really relate to what Matt Thiessen and company bring to the table.

“Bite My Tongue,” “Come Right Out and Say It,” and “I Need You” are easily the best of the bunch, but that’s really like saying the top five picks of the 1996 NBA Draft were the best of that class. (That was, of course, the same year Kobe Bryant was drafted 13^th overall, two-time MVP Steve Nash was selected at 15, and perennial All-Star Jermaine O’Neal was picked at 17.) This is just a great album – one that will be in the rotation for a long time coming for sure. Consider that your recommendation.

It’s one that is definitely worth the trip to the retail store, the visit to iTunes, or however you feel most comfortable in the flotation of your watercraft.

(Ok, consider that your recommendation.)

"A City by the Light Divided"

There are a couple of things that I wanted to write about, but I couldn’t decide on one for this post. So, I decided to make this like an actual blog and write mini-blurbs about a couple different topics.

And we’re off…

- James Cameron believes beyond any shadow of a doubt that he has located the tomb of Jesus. He also claims that within this tomb, he has discovered factual evidence that Jesus was married and fathered a child.

Here’s my only issue: It took over 2000 years for someone to finally “prove” that Jesus was married and fathered a child, yet doctors still can’t figure out who the father of Anna Nicole Smith’s baby is? Does anyone else find something incredibly fishy about this?

And if Cameron is using carbon dating, he has a lot more problems than he realizes. In my high school physics class, my teacher (Mr. Walter Snow – greatest pound-for-pound teacher I’ve ever met… That just doesn’t sound right outside of boxing) gave a carbon-dating demonstration and basically destroyed any theory or “fact” resulting from carbon dating. Using a bone from a recently deceased frog, he used the carbon dating procedure and established that the bone was over 1,500 years old. 1,500 years?!? This was from a frog he found outside the school that had been run over that morning. So, even though carbon dating is the most inaccurate form of research, scientists and archaeologists continue to use it. It doesn’t make sense.

- Michelle Tafoya of ESPN interviewed Steve Nash at the end of the Lakers-Suns game yesterday afternoon, opening the airwaves for Nash – defending two-time league MVP and all-around likable guy – to spout off about his problems. Tafoya gave him his first half shooting statistics (2 for 11) followed by his second half shooting statistics (7 for 10) and asked him what was wrong in the first half. Nash then proceeded to explain that he was dealing with diarrhea prior to the game and that was probably what was wrong with him. “Oh, it’s brunch in Hawaii. I probably should’ve kept that to myself,” Nash continued.

Hilarious. Nash is not only the best point guard since Magic and in the conversation for top 3 all time, but to top it off, he’s a down to earth person. He’s a real guy, with real problems just like you and me.

- Zuffa, the parent company of the Ultimate Fighting Championship, does not give out numbers of pay-per-view audiences for their nationally televised events. However, if Saturday night was any indication, the UFC is on a campaign to take over the country. UFC 68: The Uprising was held in Columbus, OH Saturday night and featured fights involving the current Heavyweight champion and three former champions in their respective weight classes. It was easily the most star-studded even in UFC history. 19,000 fans packed the Nationwide Arena in Columbus, and thousands upon thousands more watched via pay-per-view. Yet this sport is continually deemed as “barbaric, ruthless, tasteless, and savage.”

Why the UFC and other such leagues are looked on as “barbaric” is a little funny to me. In truth, it is no more barbaric than football, boxing or wrestling. In the history of UFC there have not been any accounted deaths brought on by action in the octagon. On the other hand, in the WWE there have been at least 3 deaths accounted for due to in-ring performances. Owen Hart died as he fell from a wire making his entrance. Eddie Guerrero died due to heart failure because of drug and alcohol abuse. (How many different ways can you spell steroids?) Same with Davey Smith – aka the British Bulldog. And Hulk Hogan can’t even walk because of all the abuse he’s taken over the years.

And someone please ask Tommy Hearns if he could go back, would he rather be hit 45 times with a padded glove or one time with a glove with minimal padding, be knocked out and the fight be over. I can guarantee he would rather have the one-punch knockout on his resume than the brain damage he has suffered due to the number of hits taken to the head over the year. Yet boxing is a gentlemen’s game, and MMA (mixed martial arts) is a bunch of cavemen hitting each other with clubs.

In all honestly, the UFC is actually safer than the NFL. Would you rather be hit and know it was coming (as you would in the UFC) or have to catch a pass across the middle and not see someone like John Lynch or Ronnie Lott come and bury you in the field. There have been many more cases of concussions, neck and back injuries, and sport-induced wounds in the NFL than there are in MMA.

But just as the sins of Tank Johnson, Pacman Jones and Brett Favre are overlooked, the fact that MMA is a sport on the rise and is no more brutal than any other sport is disregarded because of closed-minded thinking on the part of the average American.