While You Were Getting Up For Work...

I have to note to you that this entire post was written exactly as you read it. I wrote it over the course of a few hours last night--er, this morning. I decided not to edit it because for whatever reason, I keep cracking up when I read it. Probably because it makes more sense than I thought it would when I went back to read it. Anyhow, here it is.

I don't think there's anything wrong with me. Some people would beg to differ. We all have our oddities. For instance, last night I watched “Lost” with Andrea. All episode hints aside, it was a non-descript night.11:00 rolled around and Andrea went to bed and I said I'd be in shortly (and, again not to spoil any plots), it's 6:35 am. In an hour, she'll be awake...ready to take on the world of category management. But I can't help but feel guilty...and, honestly, I know I shouldn't.You see, I have been unemployed for nearly three months. Before that I worked at a printing company for three and a half months...and again, I was unemployed for three months before that.

Given the state of the country/world during the last ten months, I can't help but find solace in the nighttime (more specifically, the overnights). It's my free time. It's nine hours where I feel truly creative and unique...and with a few drunken exceptions aside, nobody can touch me at 2am.

Nevermind the nights where Andrea will go to the bathroom in the middle of the night and catch me dancing to my ipod at 3am. It's more than that. To me, I am the most efficient after midnight, which is a shame because the job I start next week begins at 6:30am (14 minutes later than the sentence I just typed).

This, is ok with me. Sure, I'm happy to be getting a steady paycheck (especially in this economy). And of course, I'm happy to be putting money away for my wedding (which at this point in time is still without a date—so let's just assume it'll be Spring of 2011, because why the hell not?).

Anyhow, I've been up all night. I've been on a steady diet all night of random thoughts, Microsoft Office, Jimmy Kimmel, Led Zeppelin, and Miller High Life. The night began nondescriptly enough with a few Jack and Cokes (and by “the night” I mean “post 11pm in Bloomington, MN”). To be honest, unless I end up writing a book and use these blog entries as excerpts, the details are without much merit—but let it be known, it's nearly seven in the morning and I'm rolling with “Death To The Pixies (the live album). Just had to mention that for historic purposes.

So anyhow, I cannot make myself go to bed before sunrise when I have a night to myself. I mentioned before how I am at my most efficient after midnight. This is true, however, this only applies to creative processes. I couldn't go over the rules and conditions regarding a credit card I've recently been approved for. Nope. But I could write a bunch of b.s. without much trouble.

And to be fair, I'm at my best when writing about a bunch of b.s.

This leads me to believe that if I could've been a rock star, I probably would've written or composed my “Let It Be” during the overnight hours. What bothers me about this “ability” is that nobody I really know is wired the same way as me. I have some friends that can stay up late...as well as some friends (mainly my buddy Green) who get up uber early and can still be affective. So I share my “skill” with nobody more than likely.

But even since I was a pre-teen, I've seen some sense of honor for staying up from dusk till dawn. In some respects, it has (in some weird kind of way) shown that I can entertain myself while so many other have been bored to sleep (yeah, it's a huge stretch—but give me a break, it's almost 7:15 in the morning).

I doubt I can find the right words to make my late night excursions justifiable. For me, they make me happy. I enjoy the peace that comes with the middle of the night.

Sure, Andrea will be up in a few minutes and I can try and make her understand what the night means to me. Ironically, I probably won't be able to find the right words...but I don't mind. It's not about the words—per se. It's about the right ideas.

I'll spend nights standing on my patio listening to music. Music that I love. Music that I am passionate about. Music that challenges me as a person (songs that even after listening to nearly 32,505 times I have theories and ideas about). So what better time? Why not 3am? You know that nobody will bother you...with that said, it's 7:22 am...”Wave of Mutilation” is playing on I-Tunes, and Andrea just opened the door of the den to say good morning. Well, it wasn't good morning as much as it was, “good god, why are you still up?”. Yes, we might be in the business of judging....but wait and see.

Containing My Excitement

Good God I love opening day. I love baseball. In a few short hours I'll be getting in my seat for a roller coaster ride I swore I'd never ride again after last year.
There I sat in my parents kitchen in Plymouth, MN last October minutes after the Los Angeles Dodgers swept the Cubs out of the playoffs. I had tears in my eyes. This was just another in a long line of red flags my girlfriend at the time, Andrea should've recogninzed. She should've said to herself, "this guy is crying because his team lost in the playoffs, maybe I should look for someone more stable". Well, as mentioned before, she agreed to marry me so she obviously didn't learn her lesson. Then again, what are the chances of this year's Cubs team making me cry again? Slim I'd say. There is no way this season can be a bigger gut punch than last year...right? Right?
Uh...
The answer to that question is no. There is no way last season's finish can be topped. No way. Ask any Cubs fan who lived and died with the team last season. Ask them if it was worse than 2003 (where an overachieving Cubs team came within 5 outs of the pennent). There is no comparison. The 2008 Cubs were expected to win the pennent. They had the best team in the National League (record wise). Home field advantage throughout the NL playoffs. This was the team expected to finally break though.
I suppose the 1984 Cubs finish was gut wrenching enough. There are factors that can be pointed to for fans to use as excuses. The fact that the Cubs lost home field advantage because they didn't have lights at Wrigley Field (thus giving the Padres three straight home games to close the series out). There's also the fact that the first four games of that series used collegiate umpires due to an umpire strike with Major League Baseball.
I have a copy of the 1984 Cubs division clinching game in Pittsburgh and Game 1 of the NLCS along with an end of season "wrapup show". The consensus that I've come to with that team was that Cubs fans were just happy to be in the playoffs. Something that wasn't the case in 2008.
When the Cubs went out with a whimper last season, I put all of my Cubs gear into a closet (wearing only my hat in the last month or so). I went through "Cubs-Detox". I promised myself and Andrea I wouldn't think or talk about them until spring training. For the most part, I succeeded in this department. The plan was a success. I didn't get too worked up over the offseason. I put the Cubs out of sight out of mind (even playing with the Red Sox, Twins, and even the Giants when I fired up the PS2). I just needed a break.

Well so much for that.

I woke up this morning with my stomach in knots again. I'm back in the roller coaster car and without even realizing it, the car is making it's way up the first hill and there is nothing I can do about it. I'm just going to enjoy the ride and hope it doesn't make me cry again.
On paper though, this team shouldn't make me cry. They have one of the most lethal lineups in the NL and along with a deep pitching staff, shouldn't have a problem winning their third straight division championship (something this franchise has never done). Never forget though, this is the Cubs we're talking about...in my gut I'm terrified of a sub .500/4th place finish. There is no rhyme or reason for this fear but you gotta embrace these things as a Cubs fan. Last season I was positive they were going to win the World Series. For the 100th conseceutive season, they did not. Oh well. Like the old saying, hope springs eternal.
Baseball is back and I'm ready to do it all over again.

Remember Where You Were

I'll briefly set the scene. I'm sitting on the couch in my den playing NCAA March Madness 07 on PS2. The contest was a heated conference tournament game between Loyola-Chicago and Butler. My phone beeps. I let the phone sit for a moment as I finished up my possession in the game. Pause game. Look at text message. It's from my buddy Husby.
Husby (4:30:45)- Bears got Cutler.

I stop everything I'm doing and stare at the text message. I read it again. Bears got Cutler. My first reaction after the message sinks in is simple and straight to the point...no they didn't. So I responded to Husby with a one word text: WHAT?
I check the date on my phone thinking I got the dates mixed up and it was April Fool's Day. Nope, that was the day before.
I spend the next thirty seconds or so pacing around my living room looking out the porch window and back at my phone. Then...My phone beeps again. This time, the message comes from my unusually NFL-neutral friend Dan Craigie. His message is straight and to the point:

Dan Craigie (4:31:56)- Shit.

Less than 20 seconds later, my phone beeps again...and again....and again...and for good measure, it beeps again. I look down and see 4 new messages (mind you, these all arrived within ten seconds of each other).
Text messages begin pouring in from all over...the first one, the text I've been anticipating for a long two minutes or so...from ESPN. It's now official. Bears finally have a quarterback.
Now, I will associate Loyola-Chicago vs. Butler in college basketball with one of the most exciting moments of my sports life (and it's not even a basketball moment).
I don't doubt that I will remember where I was when I got the Cutler news twenty years from now. Even if the trade is a bust for the Bears, it is one of those moves that can get an entire fanbase geeked at the same time.
This is something that doesn't come with being a Bears fan. The Bears don't make offseason deals for top 5-7 NFL QBs. This doesn't happen.
There have been other moments that I can remember where I was for. The first one I will mention was back on October 9, 1993.
I was getting dressed in the second locker bay from the teachers office in the Plymouth Middle School boys locker room. It was the second or third period of the day. As I got ready for gym class, my friend (and the only other person I knew who loved the NBA as much as I did) Johann came running into the locker room.
"Michael Jordan is retiring!"
Apparently, Johann overheard someone in the halls talking about it--quite honestly, I don't know how he found out--we were in sixth grade. For me, an 12 year old sprinting into the boys locker room was as solid of a source as I needed at the time. We got dressed and went into gym class and we had to walk laps around the gym for warm up. I remember feeling an impending sense of doom. Michael Jordan, the best basketball player in the world on the best team in the world (incidently, my favorite team as well), was walking away...and he was only 32 (at the time 32 was old to me...just not too old to play professional basketball).
Now, at age 26, I realize this is an overreaction. But look at it from the perspecitve of an 11 year old. Sports at the time were larger than life itself. My bedroom was covered with Michael Jordan posters and Chicago Bulls pennents. My closet consisted of no less than 5 Jordan/Bulls shirts or jerseys (probably a incorrect estimate...there were probably more). Every day after school, I would go into the basement and act out NBA situations on my Hutch door basketball hoop. Some of the situations involved Mike Ricci winning the NBA Finals on a last second shot, however, at the time, most involved me as Michael Jordan winning the title (not sure what this said about my self esteem at the time, given that I was dreaming about OTHER people getting the glory, but I digress).
The point I'm getting at is this: as a kid, I had very little worries in my life. The fact that my favorite athlete in the world was leaving the game and team I worshiped was unfathomable. My life, for all intents and purposes, was over. That is why I remember everything about the moment. Sure, if the same thing happend today (say I was a lifelong Cleveland Cavaliers fan and Lebron James decided to up and retire one day), I would remember where I was when I heard the news and I would be crushed. Just not crushed in the same way that I would've been at age 11. My thought process would go from "Lebron retired!? The world is over!" to "Lebron retired...oh shit! I forgot to pay the rent. Is the post office still open?!".
Obviously, 9-11 is one moment where everyone remembers where they were (just as the assassination of JFK left a definitive "Where Were You Moment" for the Baby Boomers). So was the announcement of America's involvement in major wars. To this day I remember my elementary school principal going over the intercom system in second grade and telling us that we were at war in the middle east, thus kicking off the Gulf War...but it isn't as vivid as when I found out Jordan was going to retire a few years later. I also remember playing basketball on the backyard court of my neighbors when someone mentioned that the "guy from Nirvana" shot himself...however, I was still in my top-40 phase and this had no serious impact on me.
Sports-wise, this Jay Cutler trade is right up there with getting the news about Jordan. I'll always remember where I was when I got the text from Husby. Obviously sports don't hold the same "life and death" weight as they did when I was in sixth grade (except with the Cubs and the playoffs but that's a whole different posting for another day).
I would have a tough time explaining to non-sports fans the impact of the Bears trading for Jay Cutler. Since I just got another refill of coffee at Caribou, I have the time and I'll try.
Let's say you live in an apartment building that has been notorious for not having air conditioning (a good quarterback). You're building managers have been especially conservative in years past (perhaps keeping the same ceiling fans from when Carter was President). Every year, you hope that they upgrade and equip all of the units with a window fan at the very least. Finally, after years of ceiling fans that only throw interceptions (Rex Grossman---sorry, I can't find a non sports analogy to what Grossman did)...your building, out of nowhere mind you, decides to shell out the extra cash and get central air conditioning!
Yeah, it's weak, I know. But if you didn't expect central air, you'd probably be floored on a hot sunny day when you feel icy cold air blowing through vents...ok, ok YOU come up with a better comparison. I can't...trust me, it's freakin' exciting!
By the way, Butler held on to beat Loyola-Chicago.