Back in the middle of June I made a trip to Minnesota with Jim. There were several great moments on the trip, but I will just cover two of the events in this entry.

The first is a tale of when I went to see Super 8 with Jill. Since I’m slightly too lazy to re-write this small adventure, I’m just going to copy and paste from an email I sent Jen.

On Saturday, Jill and I went to see Super 8 at the Mall of America Theater. Why the Mall of America Theater? Because it was the closest theater to Eagan that Jill knew about.

As I was buying the tickets for the show, the woman at the box office asked me if I wanted the “Dbox seats”. I wasn’t really sure what that meant, but there was a sign on the box office that said something about VIP seats and that got you access to beer and wine. I assumed that is what “Dbox seats” were and we didn’t need access to beer and wine. So I told her that regular seats were fine.

The tickets were 6 bucks a piece, which I though was cheap considering that the last time we went to a movie, it was $10 a piece. But, I figured that maybe we got matinee prices since it was a Saturday and it was somewhat in the afternoon.

We were nearly late to the theater as the line for the concession stand was slow moving and going to the movie was kind of a late decision based on the fact that it was raining. So when we got to the theater most of the good seats were already taken. However, there were a couple of seats available in the back row. So we sat in the back row.

We hadn’t been situated for more than a few seconds when an usher approached us and asked to see our tickets. I handed them over and she said, “It would cost you an extra 8 bucks to sit there. You can sit in the blue seats.”

It was then that I noticed that we were sitting in a red seat. The last 8 rows of the theater were all red seats.

Most of the blue seats that were in the middle of the theater that weren’t smashed up against the screen were taken, so we took some side seat and watched the movie from a weird angle.

So here is the object lesson from this story. I will not be going to a movie at the Mall of America Theater again. A theater that has 1st and 2nd class seats.

The second event was going to Target Field to watch the Padres play. It was the first time I’ve ever seen the Padres play, so that was exciting. Here are some pictures from the trip.

Target Field


Bethany & Becca negotiating for a beer. Bethany was turned down because one of Minnesota’s Mickey Mouse Laws.


The coolest thing in Target Field


Target Field


More Target Field


Nate and Jim


If you look closely, you can see Nate, Becca, and Bethany in this picture. They are in the 2nd row from the top.


Another view of Target Field


If you look closely… Clue: Nate is wearing a yellow hat.


Venable


Maybin


Denorfia


Maybin Again


Meeting on the Mound


End of the Day for Moseley


Outfield Meeting


Adams


Some Twin

Next Wednesday’s random photo collection will be from my fence building project.

On Wednesday morning I woke up and most of my anger about the Fred Hoiberg hire had dissipated. I had come to accept the fact that while this was mostly a public relations move, there is a chance that it could work. I’m not saying that this is an uncontested breakaway slam dunk. This is more like a turnaround fadeaway with a 7 footer in your face from the baseline.

While it is scary that he will be learning on the job, there is a potential huge upside. He should be able to recruit and he should be able to evaluate talent. 95% of basketball games are won by the team with the more talented players.

I also assume that since Hoiberg has years of NBA experience he will be able to relate to the younger, more talented players and the great exodus of talent from Ames will finally come to an end. Any Biblical scholar can tell you that after the exodus ends it is only a matter of time before the years of wandering in the desert comes to an end.

Even though we will only return 5 scholarship players from last year, I still feel that we will have a better record next year. I’m not sure why I have this optimism, but I have come to peace with the Hoiberg hiring. On Wednesday morning I accepted that it might just work. After all, Hoiberg is a graduate of the nation’s premier land grant university. That fact alone qualifies him for about any job that I can name!

After coming to that conclusion, I got out of bed and took a shower. After Nate woke up we went to Puffy Cream for breakfast. It was excellent, again.

I wasn’t sure how long I was going to stick around, so I contacted Jill about getting supper. She wasn’t sure when she would get off work because her company was enforcing mandatory overtime, even though it wasn’t even Georgia-Texas week.

Eventually it worked out and we agreed to meet at The 5-8 Club at 6:30.

I don’t watch lots of television. I’m always leery of saying that because I don’t want to come off as one of those snobby people who don’t own a television and feel that this gives them a degree of superiority to other people. I can’t stand those people. I’m better than those people.

That being written, I really don’t watch much television. Of the shows that are currently being broadcast on network television, I’ve probably seen a single episode of maybe 10 shows. But on this day, I spent a good portion of the day sitting on the couch watching tv with Nate.

We watched two episodes of The West Wing. Then we watched the show Parenthood. Then we watched the movie Parenthood. Then at about 3 o’clock when Nate was leaving for work, Becca woke up and I watched television with her. We watched local news and she lectured me on why I should watch BBC news because it wasn’t “biased”. I thought this was funny because I once wrote a paper on media bias when I was in college.

At 6:30 I met Jill at The 5-8 Club in Minneapolis. When I was in Minnesota in February I ate at Matt’s Bar with Jim and Bethany. Matt’s Bar and The 5-8 Club both claim to have invented the Juicy Lucy. I was happy that I was going to be able to have both sandwiches so I could determine which one I consider to be the superior burger.

The 5-8 Club

The 5-8 Club was set up a little bit weird. It wasn’t a huge restaurant, but it was of a decent size, but the weird part about it was that you sat yourself. I don’t think that I’ve been in a restaurant this large where you sat yourself.

The place was packed, but there wasn’t a line and a couple of people left as we entered the building, so we were able to get a seat immediately.

I was pretty hungry since all I had eaten on the day was a couple of donuts and some leftover walleye from Houlihan’s. Well, I guess that wasn’t exactly true. Becca fed me some food that she had bought at Trader Joe’s. A place that Becca is very passionate about. Regardless, I was still hungry.

We ordered mushrooms for an appetizer and I’m not sure if this was a mistake or how they do things, but rather than ranch dressing it came with bleu cheese dressing. I’m not a fan of bleu cheese dressing and this has lead to many a discordant evening with me and Jesse at our favorite wings eating places across central Iowa. However, their bleu cheese dressing was fairly good. It didn’t make me instantly want to vomit like most bleu cheese dressing.

I orderd The Juicy Luicy:

By far our most popular menu item, the Juicy Lucy is a mouth-watering half pound burger stuffed with American cheese. The cheese is HOT – be careful and take your time. Bleu, pepper or Swiss cheese is also available. The wait’s a little bit longer; but we promise it’ll be worth it!

Jill ordered The Saucy Sally:

Lucy’s little sister. Born on May 8, 2005. She making her public debut! A half pound burger stuffed with our secret sauce, and topped with American cheese, shredded lettuce, raw onions, and a smear of Thousand Island Dressing. Make sure you have plenty of napkins.

While Jill was explaining to me her theory on why she is an evolved being, the people sitting in the booth next to ours stopped her. They apologized for eavesdropping on our conversation and then made commentary on why they agreed with Jill’s theory on highly evolved human being.

Really!

Have your own conversation people! I understand that we are probably more fascinating and interesting than you are and it must be hard not to eavesdrop on us, but at least try to have your own conversation.

After we had ate as much food as we could, we waited patiently for our bill. This was the type of joint where you pay the waitress, but our waitress had disappeared. In fact, I didn’t see any waitress. We probably waited for a good 20 minutes before the waitress showed up and said:

“You guys probably want to go home.”

Then a few minutes later she showed up with the bill.

I gave her my Bank of the Bear card. She took it and when she came back to give me the bill she handed me somebody else’s credit card. After hopefully getting the finances of the evening squared away I’m ready to make this proclamation:

Matt’s Bar serves the superior Ju(i)cy Lucy. The 5-8 Club wasn’t bad and I would certainly go back, but Matt’s is superior. At some point I might have to go back to try the Saucy Sally.

After the meal I bid Jill a fond adieu and hit the open road back to the Cyclone State. It was a pretty great 3 days in Minnesota.

Daily Reminder

Don’t forget to update your links, bookmarks and RSS Feeds to the new URL: http://www.photography139.com/notebook/

I did have a couple of late submissions for RWPE. Here are a couple of bonus FRAMING pictures.

Julie Johnson

Michael Vest

I had an amazing weekend. I would just like to share a few of the highlights. In no particular order, besides chronological:

• I ate supper on Friday night at Jeff’s Pizza with Teresa and Jesse. I love their pepperoni rolls.
• I got to watch Jesus Christ Superstar at Stephens with Mom, Jesse and Teresa. It was an awesome production, with the exception of the geriatric Ted Neeley, who has continued to suck it up into his 60s. I firmly believe that the only acceptable definition of Hell is “separation from God”. But if I were to believe in a personal punishment vision of Hell, it might be that I get up to what I think is Heaven because Jesus is there. But then he opens his mouth and sounds like Ted Neeley. I would have to pump my fist and scream, “You win this round vengeful God! You win this round!” Sorry Shannon, but that is the way it is.
• I got to chauffeur Jim out of the Cyclone State for only the 2nd time since 1987. It was the first time he has left the state for an “extended” period of time since 1987 when he took Nate to see a St. Louis Cardinals game. I think he might have enjoyed it as he is considering leaving the state again this Summer to see the Twins play the Braves on June 12 & 13.
• I got to see Bethany’s new house. It is pretty sweet. They have managed to put down a new wood floor, new tile in the kitchen and new carpet in the rest of the house. Her new fridge is the coolest fridge I’ve ever seen. They painted all the rooms and they got the paint for free because they bought it on Christmas Eve and the Sherwin Williams employee just gave it to them as a Christmas Present because they were the only customers he had that day.
• I got to try my first (and won’t be the last) Jucy Lucy. Yes, there is no “i” in Jucy. There are two restaurants that lay claim to having invented the Twin City curiosity. We went to Matt’s Bar based on the recommendation of Becca’s boyfriend Gelli. He insisted that they have the superior Jucy Lucy. A Jucy Lucy is a cheeseburger that has the cheese inside the meat patty rather than on top. A piece of cheese is surrounded by raw meat and cooked until it melts. The end result is a hamburger with a molten core of cheese. The sandwich is both incredibly tasty and slightly dangerous. You have to be careful with the first bite because if you bite into it too aggressively you are rewarded with an explosion of boiling cheese. This cheese explosion is both tasty and painful. A rare combination. The two restaurants that claim to have invented the burger are only a few blocks apart. Matt’s Bar does not use the “i” in juicy. The 5-8 Club does use the “i”. They both have used this spelling in their marketing. Matt’s Bar boasts “if it’s spelled correctly, you’re at the wrong place.” The 5-8 club boasts “if it’s spelled right, it’s done right”. In a future trip to Minnesota, I will give the 5-8 Club a try. I might also venture into St. Paul to try the Cajun Lucy served at the Groveland Tap.
• Stopped at a quaint little store called Tom’s Popcorn Shop. I picked up 4 types of popcorn. A chocolate popcorn that ended up being terrible. Jill compared it to Cocoa Puffs and that was a very accurate assessment. A double caramel and mixed nuts variety ended up being very tasty. A caramel and peanuts variety was tasty. The banana popcorn I am munching on right now isn’t too bad.
• I got to see the bank where Bethany works and pick up two new pairs of shoes at a nearby Burlington Coat Factory. My injured foot is already starting to feel better since I switched shoes.
• I made Sara’s dream come true by wandering around IKEA with Bethany and Jim. Okay, mostly with Bethany. I think Jim was ready to go 5 minutes after stepping in the door. I didn’t get to see all of IKEA, but I did get to see a group of girls acting out the scene from (500) Days of Summer (have I told you lately how much I love that movie!) that is set in IKEA. That warmed my heart a bit. I also fell in love with their collection of butcher block tables and I have decided to get rid of my kitchen table and replace it with a small butcher block table. To create both some space and so I have a food prep area if I ever decide to cook. Or the more likely scenario, for the next time somebody comes over and cooks for me.
• I got to see Jill’s apartment. It was disgustingly clean. Meaning if I spent now until my birthday party cleaning my house it still wouldn’t be half as clean as Jill’s apartment. But it is a well-known fact that the Gorshes are cleaners. Anybody that ever worked a closing shift at the Boone outpost of the Evil Clown Empire with Derrick can tell you stories about the cleanliness of the grill area when he was done. They can also tell you other stories, but I’m concentrating on how much that guy liked to clean for now. I got to meet her cat. I don’t think it is a major surprise that her can’t didn’t like me, but the theory is that this was just laying the groundwork. The next time I visit, the cat will think I’m swell. It is similar to my theory that the next time Jupiter gets together with Jackson and Bailey they will get along swell because of the groundwork I did on Dog Playdate when I was borrowing Jupiter for Sara’s trip to Florida. I also got to ride in Indy for the first time since I got to drive her several months back. We ate at this sweet restaurant called Jade 88 Chinese Cuisine. We were the only people in the restaurant. Literally. My favorite aspects of this restaurant were that they called crab rangoons – cream cheese powder puffs, they had a chair sitting in the women’s bathroom stall (Jill reported this fact, I did not go into the women’s bathroom) and they had the largest collection of cleaning supplies I’ve ever seen sitting on top of the toilet in the men’s room. That isn’t to say the food wasn’t good, because it was great, but to know me is to know what type of weird things tickle my fancy. After the meal, Jill returned my copy of the 2 Disc Special Edition of A Clockwork Orange that she had borrowed a few weeks back. My Stanley Kubrick boxed set is complete once again! I was also able to loan her The Departed and give her the final piece of Halloween candy. A piece of candy that almost ended up in Willy’s stomach.
• I had lunch with Jim, Becca and Nate at one of Becca’s favorite restaurants Quang. It is a Vietnamese restaurant that reminds me of one of Sara’s favorite restaurants, A Dong. (Yes, immature people, that is really the name of the restaurant. Stop giggling. I know who you are.) While we waited for a table, Becca and I checked out an Asian grocery store across the street. Now just going to a normal grocery store is kind of an adventure for me. (If you don’t believe me, ask Jay) But going to this grocery store was a special kind of adventure for me. I actually didn’t take my camera out of my backpack on the whole trip. Even though I thought about doing my FRAMING picture for RWPE up there, but in the end I admittedly just kind of phoned that project in. However, at the bottom of this list, you might just find a few low quality images I captured with my phone in this market. The food at Quang lived up to Becca’s hype. We had some kind of fried yam things called Banh Tom Chien. They called crab rangoons cream cheese wontons. Tasty, but not as cute as cream cheese powder puffs.
• After Quang, I allowed Becca to drive my car (without a small amount of consternation on my part) to give us a tour of Uptown Minneapolis. I really liked Uptown. We got to drive by Gelli’s parents’ restaurant “It’s All Greek to Me…” (a place I will no doubt try in the future) and hear Becca’s sermonizing on how much she doesn’t like hipsters. Nate liked to point out that Becca is a borderline hipster, but she doesn’t see the similarities. Even though she does want to drive a Prius, she is not a hipster she insists. Mostly because she doesn’t ride a bike. But perhaps the most exciting part of the Uptown tour was driving by the Uptown Theater. Although I had missed it, they clearly proclaimed on their marquee that they had a midnight showing of A Clockwork Orange. Jill is going to look into this phenomenon and hopefully a midnight showing of A Clockwork Orange is in our future.
• After the Uptown tour we stopped at a grocery store so Nate could buy the ingredients for gumbo. On the surface that doesn’t sound particularly exciting, but in fact it is like watching Van Gogh buy paintbrushes or Eric Clapton buy a guitar.
• Becca made a Coastal Seafood Salad that included shrimp, squid and roughie. It was incredible. Nate made gumbo (no need to point out how phenomenal the gumbo was) and we settled down to watch the Super Bowl. I would have to say that my favorite Super Bowl commercial this year was the monster.com commercial with the beaver playing the violin. Like Jen, I’m partial to beavers. The team I was rooting for also won. That was a surprising bonus. Nate also tried to convince me that Metallica had redeemed themselves with their most recent album. I’ve never been much of a Metallica fan, but at some point I will be giving their new album a listen in order to make my own assessment.
• I pulled into my driveway at 1:30 in the morning. It had been a successful weekend on many levels.

Here are a few low quality pictures from my phone:

Mmmm… Pork brains. But you can’t prepare that without edible beef blood!

Fresh clams!

Lobster. I wanted a picture of the crabs, but the water in their tank wasn’t clear enough to get a good picture.

Of course I also wanted to share today’s love letter from The Writer’s Almanac:

Franz Kafka wrote stories about human beings transformed into vermin; unsettling legal battles over unspecified crimes; and a father who sentences his son to death by drowning. Kafka is often thought of as neurotic, and rarely as romantic, but he wrote a great many love letters — many of the anguished, helpless variety — to a Berlin woman to whom he was engaged for five years. Their relationship was carried out almost entirely by letters.

In the autumn of 1912, he wrote to Felice Bauer about how much she had become inseparable from his composition process, and also how anticipation of her writing kept him awake at night. He wrote:

“Lately I have found to my amazement how intimately you have now become associated with my writing, although until recently I believe that the only time I did not think about you at all was while I was writing.

In one short paragraph I had written, there were, among others, the following references to you and your letters: someone was give a bar of chocolate. There was talk of small diversions someone had during working hours. Then there was a telephone call. And finally somebody urged someone to go to bed, and threatened to take him straight to his room if he did not obey, which was certainly prompted by the recollection of your mother’s annoyance when you stayed so late at the office. — Such passages are especially dear to me; in them I take hold of you, without your feeling it, and therefore without your having to resist.

… [It takes] every imaginable effort to get to sleep — i.e., to achieve the impossible, for one cannot sleep and at the same time be thinking about one’s work and trying to solve with certainty the one question that certainly is insoluble, namely, whether there will be a letter from you the next day, and at what time. The night consists of two parts: one wakeful, the other sleepless, and if I were to tell you about it at length and you were prepared to listen, I should never finish.

Eleven days later, Kafka wrote to her:
“Fraulein Felice!
I am now going to ask you a favour which sounds quite crazy, and which I should regard as such, were I the one to receive the letter. It is also the very greatest test that even the kindest person could be put to. Well this is it:
Write to me only once a week, so that your letter arrives on Sunday — for I cannot endure your daily letters, I am incapable of enduring them.
For instance, I answer one of your letters, then lie in bed in apparent calm, but my heart beats through my entire body and is conscious only of you.
I belong to you; there is really no other way of expressing it, and that is not strong enough. But for this very reason I don’t want to know what you are wearing; it confuses me so much that I cannot deal with life; and that’s why I don’t want to know that you are fond of me. If I did, how could I, fool that I am, go on sitting in my office, or here at home, instead of leaping onto a train with my eyes shut and opening them only when I am with you?”

And a week after that, he wrote to her:

“Dearest, what have I done that makes you torment me so? No letter again today, neither by the first mail nor the second. You do make me suffer! While one written word from you could make me happy! … If I am to go on living at all, I cannot go on vainly waiting for news of you, as I have done these last few interminable days …

I think the thing I’ve liked about these letters is their common theme of thinking constantly about the woman they love and how that gets in the way of their work.

June and Dean are going to be moving from their farm in the near future. I went out there with Jim on Saturday to take a few pictures of the farm before they move.

I’ll have to head out there again in couple of weeks and take some more pictures.

I got all of the old pictures off of my phone. There aren’t a terribly large amount of pictures on there because the old phone is about 4 years old and didn’t have much memory on it.

It turns out almost every picture on that phone ranges from bad to horrible. Although some are amusing.

One major plus of the new phone is the memory card. I can use pictures taken by a real camera for the Caller ID Photo. As you can tell by these images, that will make a big difference.

I have had difficulty in getting back in my mode to finish up this mostly uninteresting tale. It has been over a week since most of this stuff has transpired. My memory of the events may be more than a little bit foggy. I’ll do my best recollect these events because in the last few weeks I have received the following comments to my face:

 

“See. I really do read your blog.”

 

“Kelly thought your commentary about Jay was spot on.”

 

“I can’t wait to hear about your lunch with Bill W.”

 

“I didn’t say ‘let’s go get a salad’!”

 

I’m not entirely sure that I’ve been able to get back into my mode. Once I’m out of my mode I can’t force myself back. All I can do is create conditions that are conducive to getting my mode back into effect. So I’m listening to a little Otis Redding and I’m typing away. If that doesn’t help me get back to my mode, it might be gone forever.

 

I believe the last time I took keyboard in hand in a creative direction I had just concluded my Oscar analysis. The Oscar analysis that moved people so much that not a single person decided to offer an opinion on what the most tragic ending to the movie “Blood Diamond” would be. This can mean only one of a few things.

 

#1. Nobody actually made it to the bottom of Part II.

#2. After getting to the end of Part II everybody was so emotionally exhausted that they couldn’t bring themselves to offer an opinion to a simple multiple choice question.

#3. Nobody thinks that what happens with conflict diamonds is tragic. Perhaps the real tragedy in their minds is that not enough innocents are murdered and enslaved.

 

I don’t know. I’ll just accept that despite the claims of some to the contrary, these writings exist in a vacuum.

 

I’ll just get back to the business of this writing, which is to weave the tale of my existence and recent exploits. Although, I’m sure there is somebody out there with a dictionary right now claiming that the events that have passed through my experience lately can hardly be considered exploits. More than anything they are a monument to a culture of consumerism and an attitude of narcissism. Except for making soap, that was certainly an accomplishment. Eating shrimp at the Oscar party was also an accomplishment. I’m telling you, these things were massive.

 

We left the formal Oscar party and made our way back to Jen and Derrick’s homestead. I believe we reached their front door pretty close to midnight. I entered the living room to see Jen’s first completed project from her stained glass class. She had made a stepping stone. I knew that this was the first project and I was always a little bit suspicious. How do you make something for stepping on out of stained glass?

 

She brought it up from the basement where it had been curing. Curiously this was the second time this weekend I had heard about something being left in the basement to cure. This time I did not see an activity known as “catproofing” though.

 

It was pretty amazing. I’m a stained glass man from way back and I was impressed. The stained glass was placed in concrete. The design was a butterfly. This is a particularly difficult design because it is symmetrical. This meant that for every piece of glass that Jen cut she had to also cut an identical piece for the opposite side. She did an amazing job. I am eager for the future stained glass night where we make our own coasters. Although I confess not being sure that I am up to the challenge.

 

There was one other curious thing about this stepping stone. The concrete was extremely smooth. Maybe I’m impressed by strange things, but there isn’t a trick to making the concrete turn out so smooth. You don’t sand it. That is the way it hardens. It is naturally that smooth.

 

I went home and crashed, not anticipating much of consequence to transpire on the following day.

 

I woke up on Monday and headed into the computer mine. My only hope was to make it through yet another day of arduous labor without developing the dreaded Silicon Lung. Jesse approached me and delivered some good news. Bill W. would be joining us for lunch.

 

Let me stop and make a point here. I’m not calling this man Bill W. because that is his name. I do not wish to be forthcoming with his actual identity because I might in my haste of writing this thing, blurt out some private information. You see Bill W. had stopped in Ames on his way home from the Twin Cities where he had a date with a lady friend. I will be coy with his true identity because he may or not be on the prowl with this lady.  There is a nearly infinitesimally small chance that she might happen upon this blog and read some of the things I’m about to put down about Bill W. and his attempts to make this date something a little bit more substantial. I don’t want to kill Bill W.’s game. Not that I think that is a likely outcome. I just want to hedge my bets. For that reason my friend will remain unidentified and I will refer to them by the name Bill W. as homage to the man who founded Alcoholics Anonymous.

 

My subscriber from Mankato was most interested in this bit of the tale. I’m not going to go into much detail about the lunch. There isn’t much to tell. He came to the mine. We went to Hickory Park with Jesse and Willy. We asked him questions about his weekend. Some details I won’t recount. There is one detail that I wish to recount. It is actually a question of strategy.

 

Bill W. is a fan of bored* games. So is his lady friend. While he was visiting her they played a series of games. In fact they played a best of 13 series. When he told me this fact I was quite shocked. I didn’t know they had made 13 different bored games. Off the top of my head all I can name is Trivial Pursuit, Sorry, Life, Chess, Monopoly, Candyland, and Sammy the White House Mouse. I have heard the beginnings of descriptions of other games. However, usually about 2 words out of the other person’s mouth I’m sound asleep. I might not have the best survival instincts, but my instincts for avoiding a boring night are as sharp as the sting of a whip.

 

Now I’m going to throw up a red flag. I am about to get into some territory that if you don’t know me very well could be described as sexist. It might not be in the next paragraph, but it will be there soon enough. You will know it when you get to it.

 

Bill W. claims that when they got to the climax of the evening AKA the rubber match, he threw the contest so that his lady friend came out as the winner. Let us not dwell on the veracity of his statement. Let us merely question whether or not that this was correct strategy. At this point we are going to have to talk in generalizations. I concede that all people are individuals. So my next question should be viewed at the aggregate level.

 

I also need to make the following distinction. My question is related to competitions where men and women are able to compete on an equal plane. Not in activities where men have to make a concerted effort to make the competition close. Of course, I’m talking about activities like basketball, naming the starting third baseman of the 1984 National League Champion San Diego Padres, driving, or mathematics.

 

My question is simply: Did Bill W. make the wise move? Was it savvy? Should he have let his female friend win the deciding game or should he have won?

 

This is a question that when it has been discussed in a few of my social circles has gotten some spirited debate and wildly varying answers. If you got an opinion please weigh in.

 

I understand that this is a small part of the “game”, but I’m curious if people think this piece of the game was well played or muffed.

 

After the meal Bill W. went on his merry way and I returned to work. The rest of Monday passed without incident until my bowling league.

 

You may remember that from past writings that I have clearly established myself as the worst bowler in the league. Despite my efforts to scuttle the team we arrived at the alley on Monday as the 1^st Place team in the Pioneer League. We were matching up with a team that possessed the moniker “Giant Killers”. Before the game began one of their representatives ambled over to our table and told us to “Note the name.  We’re called the Giant Killers for a reason.”

 

Even though this bravado was laughable, I figured out that there team name wasn’t derived from  a story involving the climbing of a beanstalk or taking down a Philistine.  However, he insisted on continuing to allow words to escape from his mouth.

 

“We always beat first place teams.”

 

Great.  Don’t really care.  Take zero pride in my bowling and I’m not here to win any trophies.  I just want to hang out with the guys at my table.  We bowled pretty well. They didn’t. This meant halfway through the second game they quit. Yeah, they finished the games physically, but mentally and emotionally they were beat. They spent most of their time complaining about how throw a couple members of our team throw the ball. Well Mike is in his 60s. Jim is in his 50s. They aren’t going to throw the ball like somebody in their 20s. One of their team members took to throwing the ball as slowly as he could. I was leery about joining this league at the beginning of the year because of my limited bowling aptitude, but I have to say that this was the first unpleasant experience I have had all year.

 

I always have to shower when I get home from the bowling alley. I can not tolerate smelling like an ashtray. It always makes me want to vomit. It is the same way I feel every time the announcers point out that Michael Taylor has broken Dedric Willoughby’s consecutive games with a 3 pointer streak. At least I can wash the cigarette smoke smell off.

 

This tale is almost completed. I only need to cover my lunch with my Private Climatologist and his analysis of “An Inconvenient Truth”, but that will wait until the exciting conclusion of this tale in Part IV.

 

I will just wrap up this section of the tale with a small discussion of the Lenten Study Group I’ve joined on Tuesday nights. I was a little bit leery of joining this group because my previous experiences with Bible Study groups hadn’t been super swell. However, this is really the first time that I’ve joined a group at my own church strangely enough.

 

I was a bit worried because when I walked in to the room I was the youngest person in the room by 10 years. However, I’m really glad I went because our Associate Pastor Andrea said something that really helped me re-order some things in my head. What she said I’ll leave for a discussion at a later time. If you are really interested e-mail me and I’ll let you know.

 

I enjoyed myself enough that I’ve decided to continue going. Tonight we went 30 minutes over because of a heated discussion of the meaning of the term “citizen of heaven” in the Philippians verse we were discussing.

 

So I’ll leave it at that for now.

 

To Be Continued . . . .

 

 

* In the haste to get what I’ve got to say out there by any mean necessary I frequently stumble with words, grammar, and homonyms. I assure you 100% that the misspelling of board games by spelling it as bored games was 100% on purpose. In other words, I hate me some board games.