Not Embarassed

June 29, 2010

Sorry for the lack of updates.  Working on the New York trip recap stories, and a few others.

A few days ago, the topic came up of “what songs we are embarrassed to admit we like.” Everyone was sharing some of the cheesy songs they like.

I didn’t say anything, until finally I was called out.

I said “I don’t have any songs I’m embarrassed to admit I like.”

The response was “Come on, all the stuff you say you have on your (mp3) player? There’s got to be some cheesy songs on there.”

I said “Oh, probably two thirds of it is cheesy songs. I’m not embarrassed to admit I like every single one of them. You name a cheesy song, I’ve probably got it. I probably love it, and would probably belt it out if you played it right now.”

You want a list? Fine. Christina Aguilera? Yeah. Jewel? Of course. Vanessa Carlton – A Thousand Miles, I’ve got that too. Belinda Carlisle? Yeah, plus half the Go-Gos stuff — and I still find both Belinda Carlisle and Jane Wielein attractive right now at age 50. Shania Twain? sure. Avril Lavigne – Complicated is a great song.

Here’s an obscure one: Jennifer Knapp – Crush. How about Mazzy Star – Fade Into You? Fiona Apple – Criminal. You want more? Sophie B. Hawkins – Damn I Wish I Was Your Lover. Edie Brickell – What I Am.

Natalie Merchant’s voice is so seductive, I’d listen to her read her grocery list.

Endless Love? You know it. Islands In the Stream? Hell Yes. That’s a great song. Brandy, You’re a Fine Girl, by Looking Glass.

On the drive over, I listened to Lisa Loeb’s Stay about seven times in a row. That’s an awesome song.

I feel no shame in enjoying cheesy songs. They are awesomely cheese songs and while reading this, you’ve probably said “oh, that’s a good song! Haven’t heard that one in a while” and are about to download one or more of those now.

Planes and Prayer

June 11, 2010

After a half hour delay for “issues” unknown, my plane for DC took off. I offered up my customary prayer for a safe trip during the period which wireless devices aren’t allowed, and then as we took off, noticed that our right wing was a lot more, um, floppy than our left wing.

That’s not normal. The left wing was moving as we took off, but just a few inches and looked quite rigid. The right wing, by comparison, was flopping around about twice as much. I wasn’t too alarmed, but couldn’t help but think “hey, don’t we want that thing to be, you know, strong and not flapping around like an elderly woman’s jiggling arm flab?”

Good think I got that prayer in. Normally, I just silently and quickly ask that the plane has a safe trip because the student-athletes I am usually flying with have so much potential and long lives ahead of them. Then I follow that up with, “and if the plane does go down, please make sure my character is in the movie and someone attractive plays me.”

Hey, they mad We Are Marshall. If I’m on a team plane that crashes, there should be a movie!

Ever swear to God in a prayer? Not like “I swear to you that I’ll go to church more if you keep that wing from flopping like a European in the NBA” but like “Lord, flying into Huntington WV” (for example) “is terrifying the shit out of me…”

Well, I accidentally dropped an F-bomb. As in, “and if the plane does go down, I’m glad I’m with these (F people) and not student-athletes with potential.”

Oh well. I think I’m screwed. If you’re reading this, it means the plane landed safely and let me post this during my layover, or my crackberry survived and was found in the wreckage.


June 7, 2010

Sorry for the lack of updates. Busy week. Anyway, this happened last Saturday:

I was invited to a Texas Memorial Day party with my parents friends from church. I declined. My mother just wandered into my room to tell me I should go.

“You need to do something because sitting in your room all day isn’t a good thing. It could lead to depression.”

Depression? Do you know what the word depression means? Let’s see. I sleep til noon every day, have coffee in my pajamas while surfing the internet, play video games and never miss a soccer game I want to see (with a beer). Then dinner just magically appears and then I watch a Mets game – or if I can’t watch the Mets game, which is eight out of every 16 days, it’s because someone is paying me money to watch a DIFFERENT team play baseball. And then I finally have time to download all the TV shows I meant to check out. Not to mention I missed like, zero minutes of NCAA Championship Week and March Madness, or the Winter Olympics.

Do you call that depressed? I thought the word for that was “FREAKING SWEET.”

This isn’t depressing, it’s actually pretty close to ideal. The only thing separating this from ideal is that I’m here with these two in a house in Texas instead of in a better city with a smoking hot redhead with the NHL package.

“It’s not healthy to sit around all day.”

Coming from the same person who told me yesterday that I look thinner? I cut all that New Orleans fried food from my diet and I’ve lost seven pounds.

“But, Monday will be a chance for you to experience something different. It’s Texas. You’ll see nice Texan people. It’s interesting. To get there you have to drive past Coon Neck Church, on Coon Neck Road.”

THAT IS THE DEPRESSING PART! And also the type of situations I’m working hard to avoid by staying in my room. And doing a phenomenal job of it, might add, all while hitting .405 in MLB The Show on my PlayStation.