A Good Day with Football Analogies

Do you ever have a day so good that anything seems possible? It happens sometimes. To me, those sort of days are rare to come by. A day where I feel like I can do anything. A day where the things I thought impossible are seemingly more possible than I originally thought. In the case of my good day, it was feeling smart with everything I was doing. 

It started off slow with an outright lack of motivation to care or to wake up. I was training that morning, which I was in no mood to do. But as I imbibed several caffeinated beverages in conjunction with eating delicious foods throughout the day, I became a powerhouse of information. I was reciting everything I knew about my job and relevant aspects about medicine to my poor trainee. Now this doesn't seem like a big deal since that's what I'm supposed to do. However, I had trained 3 other people with relative difficulty in saying anything correctly. But today was different. I was on my game. I had the answers to the questions. I could explain everything with precise detail. There wasn't an IV I couldn't hit. There wasn't a patient with a diagnosis I couldn't figure out. It was all coming together. After I had to take two tests. Both of which I aced. I had problems at home to fix. I had problems with family I had to fix...........All a success. Nothing stopped me. 

It seems stupid, but I was on fire. I was the pitcher at the mound throwing a no hitter.............

Wait a second.......... I hate baseball.

I was the quarterback throwing everything I had. There wasn't an end-zone I couldn't reach. There wasn't a pass too far or too difficult for me to make. No defense I couldn't read and work around. Every success was an impossible touchdown. It was a record scoring game. I was nimble. I avoided mistakes and turnovers. It was a career best, sure to go down in the history books. 

Anything was possible. I could do anything. My goals didn't seem so stupid. I didn't feel so stupid and unaccomplished. 

For the first time in a long time, I had a day where everything went right.

How Star Wars Broke my Heart

It's little secret that I'm a huge nerd. My passion for sci-fi and other types of cosmic fiction is boundless. Star Trek and Star Wars tend to be my favorites. But I remember Star Wars as my introduction into this realm of nerdiness.

Whether or not you're familiar with the original holy trilogy is not that concerning for this post. But it will probably help your understanding of my feelings a little bit.

The first Star Wars, A New Hope (episode 4, technically) was my introduction to the franchise. As a kid, it wasn't my favorite of the movies but I certainly did love it. I fell in love with the whole universe of Star Wars. The plot. The weapons. The legendary music track by John Williams. I wanted to know everything about the movie. The Empire Strikes Back, the second of the original series was my least favorite. It was too dark and scary for my little child brain to grasp. The heroes weren't supposed to lose or get hurt. All the stories I had ever known up until that point had never ended without a "happily ever after" sort of feel. Empire never provided that. The best you got was that nobody died but got horribly beat up. Return of the Jedi was my favorite as a child. It seemed to have all the action I ever wanted in a Star Wars movie. All the ship battles I could handle. All the lightsaber dueling I could absorb. All the blaster-fire I could process. It seemed like everything I ever wanted.

For years, I maintained that Return of the Jedi was my favorite of the franchise. I maintained that stance well into my adulthood. That's a lot longer than I should have let that slip. I was a fool. Now, I'm not saying that Return of the Jedi is the worst movie of the lot. But it's an inferior movie to the previous movies in the series. A couple of years ago, I watched Return of the Jedi and my mind was blown. I started noticing things I never paid attention to before. Why are the Ewoks suddenly so fucking annoying? Why does the dialogue seem so clunky? Why does it seem like it's giving me all the action I want and yet I feel nothing for the plot? Why are there suddenly so many new ships and devices we haven't seen before?


Oh fuck..........

This movie was trying to sell toys.

Lots of them.............

It became clear to me why all of this existed. It was all a big marketing ploy. The movie mattered less. I could see it in the way it was thrown together. I researched it on the internet to try to calm my paranoia. Instead, I just confirmed my fears. George Lucas and several of the producers and actors went on record stating that the purpose of the movie was to sell it more to kids. And god damnit, it worked like a charm. Clunky dialogue that requires very little understanding for a child. Teddy bears/mini-Chewbaccas being cute and fighting the Empire as comic relief. New ships. Cool weapons. More toys to sell. Sure, Darth Vader dies. But everyone else lives. No real plot points that make you turn your head. Everything happens the way my child brain wants it to. Lots of action. More understanding. Less plot. More shit that I want in toy form. The worst part is, it all worked. I was seriously heartbroken. Empire Strikes Back was the superior movie all along. Excellent plot. Intriguing character development. High stakes. Personal investment into the characters. Empire had it all. I would always scoff at people who would tell me Empire was their favorite movie and couldn't understand why that would be. The truth is, they were smarter than me. They saw that way before I did. They understood Return of the Jedi's failings. I could not. I was a product of marketing and childhood nostalgia. Star Wars felt cheapened and ruined. I can't watch Return of the Jedi the same way I did when I was a kid. I can't look at it the same. It hurts too much to remember how my mind was raped by marketing schemes.


If you think that hurts me, imagine how I felt when I truly figured out the newer Star Wars movies when they came out........

Cars are Mechanical Clothes

Cars, just like clothes, often times reflect the kind of person we are. Clothes are obvious reflections. If you see some guy wearing Tap Out or something glittery and tight, chances are he is a douchenozzle of the highest caliber. Maybe that's a strong generalization. It certainly violates the whole "Don't judge a book by it's cover" rule. But fuck the rules. (At least for the purposes of this bad post, we'll say fuck the rules)

Cars are just clothes that we drive. They make an impression whether we like it or not. I realized this as I was driving into my class today. Some asshole in a big lifted truck with half the paint missing, cut me off and then proceeded to give me the bird for no reason. From the comfort of my own car I blurted "Oh yeah, nice truck. Now everyone in the trailer park knows that you have the park's smallest penis and that you're the coolest piece of shit there." He might have been a nice guy and was just having a bad day. Or my perception of the cigarette smoking jackass in a wife beater, tattered backwards hat and driving the giant insecure-of-my-phallus-mobile just might have been at least partially correct.

If you see someone driving a Jaguar or an Astin-Martin, you don't need to know too much about that person. You already know that person wears a tuxedo just to take a crap and probably hunts people for sport and jerky. You would probably assume this just by seeing a guy in a tuxedo who doesn't look like he is going to the prom. You would probably assume he drives a nice car......or that someone drives the nice car for him while he drinks champagne and eats imported crumpets in the backseat. It makes sense.

People probably see me driving my RAV4 and just assume I might be some hot-ass soccer mom, only to find I'm a dumpy white male. When I had my VW Vanagon, I'm sure a lot of people assumed I was some sort of stoner or hippie, and possibly a drug dealer (or a combination of the three). But again, they just saw a pale white teenager who looked incapable of trouble or fun. Of course, people don't always fit the descriptions of their cars or their clothes.

But most of the time, it's pretty damn close.

The Right Ingredients for Productivity

Today has all the right ingredients for a productive day. I got plenty of sleep last night. The perfect amount of sleep, in fact. I didn't sleep so much that I was tired and groggy from having slept so much. I didn't undersleep to the point that I'm tired, groggy and pissed off. Just the perfect 9 hours of sleep. Additionally, I've imbibed the perfect amount of caffeine. Not so much that I'm irritated, grouchy, impatient and unfocused. But not so little that I'm waiting for that sweet time caffeine reaches that sweet saturation point in my bloodstream. I'm in a good mood. There is not a single person in the library with me. I'm all by myself. No one to bother me. No annoying sounds coming from other assholes. I have all day to finish my homework.

If you were to make the perfect meal, this would be it. Everything would go right in the kitchen. That's just how today feels. Some of that might be the caffeine talking. Some of it might be my delusional good mood. Who knows.

For now, I just know that today is going to be good and productive.

I promise you, shit will get done today.


(And yes, I'm aware of the irony that I would be getting more shit done if I wasn't writing this blog instead of doing my tasks.)

Intentions

Sometimes we all dabble in self-loathing. Much to our chagrin we all do it. We all feel sorry for ourselves at some point or the other. Some more than others. I haven't quite figured out how or why we feel this way, especially when things aren't particularly bad.

Someone called me "tragically flawed" the other day. I know I'm flawed. We all are. Part of being human is to be flawed and to grapple with it. But to be called flawed to the point of tragedy? That seems a tad bit dramatic. I certainly have my share of flaws. Some awful and some minor and stupid. Being told you're not living up to your potential in so many words, hits home a bit.

After thinking about it, I don't think I'm tragically flawed. At the very least, I know for better or worse that my intentions are good. Most things I do come from a well meaning place even if I'm not in a good place. I keep a cool head in the midst of chaos. Arguments. Work. Stress. I rarely freak out. It's my one of my most bland signature traits. That has to count for something, right? Good people can make bad decisions as long as though bad decisions don't come to define you. It seems that everyone knows someone who falls into this category. Maybe an alcoholic or a drug addict, who is a good person but made a bad decision to be taken by those things. Being a good person isn't so black and white as being the most magnaminous person on earth. We all have our faults and vices. Some of those faults and vices consume us. Sometimes they are just isolated bad mistakes. Deep down, most of us are good people. Or so I tell myself. It would be impossible to make good decisions 100% of the time. Perhaps that's a good thing. Without a little antogonist, we can't grow. But for some people, a big mistake does define them. They fall behind and stay behind. Maybe it's just the luck of the draw on who gets to persevere and who doen't. Maybe some just want to overcome more than others. Maybe some are victims of social circumstance.

I don't have the answers. I only know that we are an inherently flawed species. Individually, some of us are more flawed than others. Globablly, we are a mess with glimpses of beauty and greatness. Imperfection isn't just a characteristic, it's a way life. We can't get rid of it. We can only hope to be less imperfect and strive to do the most good for the most people with the little time we have.

Firmly October

Today is the first day of October and already it looks so........October-y.

It is one of my favorite months, don't get me wrong. But today has a strong feel of late October, not the beginning. There is snow in the high elevations of the mountains, the clouds are dark, the winds are chilled and my spirit is cold. I have already responded to this Octoberness with my usual angry clout.

This morning I found myself quite irritated and inconvenienced that I ACTUALLY had to put on a jacket. A fucking jacket?! Already? It's October 1st! Why in the hell should I need a jacket right now? Normally at this time of year I'm strongly milking wearing a t-shirt and jeans in mildly warm, sunny weather. But today, I have been coerced by the forces of nature to wear an outer layer of clothing to protect me from the chilly elements.

Some of you might be thinking I'm just being dramatic and that 50 degrees is not that bad. Others of you might be wondering how I can possibly like October when this is the nature of the month. To both groups, I gently but firmly extend my middle finger in your direction. I very much disapprove of cold weather in all of it's many satanic forms.

Cold wind? Fuck that.

Below 70 degrees? What is this? Antarctica?

Cold rain falling on a cold day causing additional coldness? I'm looking up plane tickets to Arizona.

Forced to wear a jacket or hoodie? My day is partially if not completely ruined.

7 day weather forecast indicate "more storms ahead"? I'm calling in sick and not leaving my warm apartment until it clears.

Is it now November? Hermit mode, activate!


I'm sure I'm forgetting other groups of people who have differing opinions that directly conflict with mine. Like the groups who advocate pumpkin flavored bullshit, cute clothes, people who claim this is "ideal weather," and people who love Halloween and all tacky decorations relating to Halloween,

There is just not enough middle fingers for me to raise for all of those opinions.Even if I used my middle toes it still wouldn't be enough. So I'm hoping it all goes back to being an unseasonably warm October. High 70's and low 80's would be ideal. I can still wear t-shirts, jeans and on really warm days I can get away with shorts.

That's the world I want to live in.