Yesterday evening I freaked out a little bit -- I opened up my wallet and noticed my debit card wasn't there. Having recently lost my iPhone this was cause for alarm. I quickly checked my pockets to see if I had misplaced it. Seconds later my $40 withdrawal came out and I remembered I was standing at the ATM...my card was in the machine.
Living "off the grid", sotospeak, after losing one's iPhone has the potential to be liberating. There's only one phone call I am compelled to make weekly, and my parents seem to be surviving so far without hearing my voice the last 2 sundays. I think I'll keep this up for the forseeable future, as my iPhone connectivity addiction was probably becoming bothersome to others.
Maybe in my pretend old age I'm discovering that some things do deserve moderation.
Friday, June 11, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
One Moment, of Many (Blackhawks v Sharks, Game 4)
Rick, Internet Celebrity Baumer, and I were in standing room only at center ice yesterday. Of the many many incredible moments, one of my favorites:
The official review of Seabrook's goal and whether it crossed the line or not. While the official was checking the camera angles, the tvs or jumbotron took forever to show the first replay. Like, a good 25-30 seconds that seemed like minutes. Eventually the graphic for "play under review" gives way to the slo mo instant replays and anticipation washes over the crowd. We see 2 views that don't give us anything definitive. finally, on the 3rd angle, it's clear to us that the puck just barely crossed the line. The place cheers loudly, hoping the powers that be see the same things we saw. The UC is it's usual loud self.
The review goes on. There's a noisy buzz in the air.
The official backs away from the glass. The noisy buzz turns into hushed murmuring, however amplified by volume.
The official opens his mouth to speak; time stops in the united center. extreme suspended animation takes over and hearts stop beating. In movies there's that moment where things move in slow motion, the only sound is silence. If it's possible to register negative decibels, we achieved it. Nothing moves but one man's mouth. He is standing in the center of the arena, the intense focal point of 22,000+. The very definition of rapt. He tells us the entire puck crossed the line.
...
An eruption of emotion and 22,000 roars immediately follow. Cue the Dagger, however delayed it may have been. Delirium overtakes us. Commence with the dancing!
...
Many many hours later, I high-fived Niklas Hjalmarsson at a bar.
The official review of Seabrook's goal and whether it crossed the line or not. While the official was checking the camera angles, the tvs or jumbotron took forever to show the first replay. Like, a good 25-30 seconds that seemed like minutes. Eventually the graphic for "play under review" gives way to the slo mo instant replays and anticipation washes over the crowd. We see 2 views that don't give us anything definitive. finally, on the 3rd angle, it's clear to us that the puck just barely crossed the line. The place cheers loudly, hoping the powers that be see the same things we saw. The UC is it's usual loud self.
The review goes on. There's a noisy buzz in the air.
The official backs away from the glass. The noisy buzz turns into hushed murmuring, however amplified by volume.
The official opens his mouth to speak; time stops in the united center. extreme suspended animation takes over and hearts stop beating. In movies there's that moment where things move in slow motion, the only sound is silence. If it's possible to register negative decibels, we achieved it. Nothing moves but one man's mouth. He is standing in the center of the arena, the intense focal point of 22,000+. The very definition of rapt. He tells us the entire puck crossed the line.
...
An eruption of emotion and 22,000 roars immediately follow. Cue the Dagger, however delayed it may have been. Delirium overtakes us. Commence with the dancing!
...
Many many hours later, I high-fived Niklas Hjalmarsson at a bar.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Yeah? Well Now This Is Happening.
30 years ago today, on May 18th, 1980, Mount Saint Helens erupted in Skamania County, Washington, killing 57 people, and Ian Curtis committed suicide in Macclesfield, England, killing, well, 1 person.
Of course, I don't recall either of these things. I turned 2 that day.
My fifteenth birthday is immortalized (probably not the correct word) by this bizarre song from Randan Discotheque released on August 31st (across the pond...I doubt it ever saw the light of day here in the states). It's pretty much an entire song recapping everything that was included in the Daily Record on May 18th, 1993. I suppose this technically makes the song about May 17th, 1993.
May 18th, 2010, LCD Soundsystem, led by Mixed Martial Artist James Murphy, releases their new album This Is Happening.
I'm sure the album, and the live show next Wednesday I'll be attending, will be fantastic. But in the meantime, all I can think about is, "yeah? well now this is happening."
Of course, I don't recall either of these things. I turned 2 that day.
My fifteenth birthday is immortalized (probably not the correct word) by this bizarre song from Randan Discotheque released on August 31st (across the pond...I doubt it ever saw the light of day here in the states). It's pretty much an entire song recapping everything that was included in the Daily Record on May 18th, 1993. I suppose this technically makes the song about May 17th, 1993.
May 18th, 2010, LCD Soundsystem, led by Mixed Martial Artist James Murphy, releases their new album This Is Happening.
I'm sure the album, and the live show next Wednesday I'll be attending, will be fantastic. But in the meantime, all I can think about is, "yeah? well now this is happening."
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Done With Fish
On Monday Rick and I ran the Boston Marathon. With considerably less conviction, and replacing "fish" with "marathons", John Laroche sums up our general feeling on marathons for the time being with this (vulgarity laced) clip from a truly great film, Adaptation.
Going into Boston I knew my training was somewhat lackluster compared to what I put together for Chicago in the fall. Ultimately, due to a crisis in confidence of my fitness pre-race, my goal became to finish the marathon without injuring myself. I went by the half in 1:40:00 and that felt perfectly fine. But the first half always does.
Running through Wellesley just prior to the halfway mark, I hugged and kissed about 15 Wellesley girls on the cheek. This was clearly where I first officially abandoned any time goal that was lingering in the back of my mind.
I pulled up my 5k splits post-race, and this offers a comprehensive recap:
24:51 (included a quick bathroom stop) – 8 min pace
23:15 – 7:30 pace
23:21 – 7:31 pace
23:39 – 7:37 pace
25:48 (a second, longer bathroom stop) – 8:19 pace
27:38 – 8:54 pace - probably when I first took some walking & stretching breaks, and around when I decided since I didn't have a time goal it was going to be difficult to push myself to the brink. so I started to slow down and enjoy things a bit more.
30:21 – 9:47 pace - included a walk up heartbreak hill
37:55 – 12:13 pace - where i sat down on a curb and had a few glasses of water while watching runners go by, did more walking & stretching, ate a pretzel stick and a reese's peanut butter cup. someone offered me a drink of their miller lite. had it been a better beer I might've taken a drink.
the last 1.4 was in 15:11, and this included me stopping to talk to my friends for a few minutes, including one of them going into the bar to get me a glass of water. I drank half of it and poured the rest over my head, which felt great.
I’ve definitely been more sore after a marathon, but based on training I was more unprepared for this one, so that’s taken its toll. I’ll estimate at least 15 to 20 minutes of my 3:51 wasn’t spent running (walking, standing, sitting, hugging). I cannot comprehend at all what it must be like to run an entire marathon in over 4 hours, those runners have my utmost respect. The amount of time they are on the marathon course wrangling back demons and fighting the good fight is unfathomable to me. Cheers to them.
I've had 2 very large cheeseburgers since the marathon (one of them the Plague Bringer from Kuma's). Both of my quads were very sore. My right hamstring was tight as well for the first 2 days, and from time to time I noticed my shins are sore and my lower back hurts a bit. None of this pain is out of the ordinary, and it's all muscle pain. My feet, ankles, knees & hips all feel fine.
I sent much of this to my dad and he replied, “I think you’re just getting old.”
By Thursday I felt well enough to play in a softball doubleheader, where (between game 1 last week and the top half of the back-to-backs) I may have set the Chicago Coed Rec Softball League Record for most batters struck out in the first 2 games of a season. Really, people, I'm not throwing Danny Almonte-level filth here, it's just softball. Put it in play already.
Elsewhere, Halljams also ran Boston on Monday and has a short recap. Our good friend Robert is running the London Marathon on Sunday (tomorrow if you're reading this as of this writing), and after spending much of the winter dealing with a stress fracture has put himself into a position to shoot for a 2:45 marathon. Except now he's had to deal with the eruption of that Volcano with all the vowels, and the heat in London is going to be quite a bit higher than what would be ideal. Best of luck, Robert!
Going into Boston I knew my training was somewhat lackluster compared to what I put together for Chicago in the fall. Ultimately, due to a crisis in confidence of my fitness pre-race, my goal became to finish the marathon without injuring myself. I went by the half in 1:40:00 and that felt perfectly fine. But the first half always does.
Running through Wellesley just prior to the halfway mark, I hugged and kissed about 15 Wellesley girls on the cheek. This was clearly where I first officially abandoned any time goal that was lingering in the back of my mind.
I pulled up my 5k splits post-race, and this offers a comprehensive recap:
24:51 (included a quick bathroom stop) – 8 min pace
23:15 – 7:30 pace
23:21 – 7:31 pace
23:39 – 7:37 pace
25:48 (a second, longer bathroom stop) – 8:19 pace
27:38 – 8:54 pace - probably when I first took some walking & stretching breaks, and around when I decided since I didn't have a time goal it was going to be difficult to push myself to the brink. so I started to slow down and enjoy things a bit more.
30:21 – 9:47 pace - included a walk up heartbreak hill
37:55 – 12:13 pace - where i sat down on a curb and had a few glasses of water while watching runners go by, did more walking & stretching, ate a pretzel stick and a reese's peanut butter cup. someone offered me a drink of their miller lite. had it been a better beer I might've taken a drink.
the last 1.4 was in 15:11, and this included me stopping to talk to my friends for a few minutes, including one of them going into the bar to get me a glass of water. I drank half of it and poured the rest over my head, which felt great.
I’ve definitely been more sore after a marathon, but based on training I was more unprepared for this one, so that’s taken its toll. I’ll estimate at least 15 to 20 minutes of my 3:51 wasn’t spent running (walking, standing, sitting, hugging). I cannot comprehend at all what it must be like to run an entire marathon in over 4 hours, those runners have my utmost respect. The amount of time they are on the marathon course wrangling back demons and fighting the good fight is unfathomable to me. Cheers to them.
I've had 2 very large cheeseburgers since the marathon (one of them the Plague Bringer from Kuma's). Both of my quads were very sore. My right hamstring was tight as well for the first 2 days, and from time to time I noticed my shins are sore and my lower back hurts a bit. None of this pain is out of the ordinary, and it's all muscle pain. My feet, ankles, knees & hips all feel fine.
I sent much of this to my dad and he replied, “I think you’re just getting old.”
By Thursday I felt well enough to play in a softball doubleheader, where (between game 1 last week and the top half of the back-to-backs) I may have set the Chicago Coed Rec Softball League Record for most batters struck out in the first 2 games of a season. Really, people, I'm not throwing Danny Almonte-level filth here, it's just softball. Put it in play already.
Elsewhere, Halljams also ran Boston on Monday and has a short recap. Our good friend Robert is running the London Marathon on Sunday (tomorrow if you're reading this as of this writing), and after spending much of the winter dealing with a stress fracture has put himself into a position to shoot for a 2:45 marathon. Except now he's had to deal with the eruption of that Volcano with all the vowels, and the heat in London is going to be quite a bit higher than what would be ideal. Best of luck, Robert!
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
The Weight
Okay, this is 20 minutes long but you should take some time out of your busy busy day to watch it anyway. I fully support the idea of educating our children (well, not ours, you & I don't have any kids. "ours", collectively) on diet, nutrition, and basic cooking skills. Why wouldn't anyone support this? I've read comments about people complaining he has some of his facts not completely accurate. Who cares? Kids are fat and unhealthy. Fix that.
While you're at it, go download the TED (technology, entertainment, design) app for your iPhone or whatever super-mobile device you're carrying around. Watch the videos. Be intrigued. Learn.
Unrelated: EBONY/The 907 survived New Orleans. Some might say New Orleans survived us. Half-marathon & bars in the French Quarter in the books. Next stop: Boston Marathon, 6 weeks from 2 days ago.
While you're at it, go download the TED (technology, entertainment, design) app for your iPhone or whatever super-mobile device you're carrying around. Watch the videos. Be intrigued. Learn.
Unrelated: EBONY/The 907 survived New Orleans. Some might say New Orleans survived us. Half-marathon & bars in the French Quarter in the books. Next stop: Boston Marathon, 6 weeks from 2 days ago.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
So Quiet...
So, we actually missed a bar in the recap...Elbo Room, #172. This was on a random wednesday or thursday night (I could look it up, but I don't care to right now).
Our plan was to eat fast food Mexican, hit up the Ole Lounge for a very quick drink (our 2nd attempt at going here), then head up the street to the Elbo Room to be entertained with Open Mic night.
Well, step 1 check. Tortas:
Rick and I then head over to the Ole Lounge. The door on Diversey is locked. The door on Lincoln is locked. Bollocks.
So we went across the street for our second ever visit to Patsy's Place, and we watched some of the Oregon Civil War college football game. Remember when that game was? That was forever ago. That's how long it has taken me to write these terrible recaps.
So after a couple of drinks at Patsy's we head back across the street to Elbo Room, finding the doors unlocked this time - it's probably 8:15...their website says they open at 7. Their website is wrong. Back to the story - the doors are unlocked and we walk in. A guy and a girl are there sitting at the bar together, and we approach as if to order drinks. The guy says, "You guys here for the interview?"
us: No.
him: Oh, you'll have to come back later, we're not open.
Screw this place.
We head on up to The Elbo Room, #172, a local music venue. They used to have the Grolsch pop-top bottles here. I order a couple. They don't have them any longer. The Elbo Room has a stage in the basement, the upstairs is fairly loungey and is advertising an "open mic night" starting at 9pm. The place is empty except for us and a few band members who will be playing later tonight entering and exiting the main room repeatedly. It's freezing outside, a good bar would be crowded right now with people seeking shelter from the cold.
While we wait for something to happen (nothing happens), we note that on the outside it's The Elbo Room, and on the inside it's The Elbow Room. Curious.
Back to waiting around for something to happen...
A handful of what must be close friends of the band about to play downstairs show up. Upstairs there's a tv feed of the band playing downstairs. If they gave out awards to bands who played to empty rooms, well this band would be on the list of bands eligible for those awards.
Upstairs a guy shows up and asks Rick and I if we're here to perform in the Open Mic night, and tells us there's a list to sign up by the microphone. An older man asks him when the open mic night starts. It's 9:05. The website said 9:00. The guy says, I don't know, 10:30?
We finish our beers and walk home. In the cold.
Coming very soon: Kyle and Craig discuss the inevitable downfall of Dubai due to their lack of a middle class. (Bars 177 through The End)
Our plan was to eat fast food Mexican, hit up the Ole Lounge for a very quick drink (our 2nd attempt at going here), then head up the street to the Elbo Room to be entertained with Open Mic night.
Well, step 1 check. Tortas:
Rick and I then head over to the Ole Lounge. The door on Diversey is locked. The door on Lincoln is locked. Bollocks.
So we went across the street for our second ever visit to Patsy's Place, and we watched some of the Oregon Civil War college football game. Remember when that game was? That was forever ago. That's how long it has taken me to write these terrible recaps.
So after a couple of drinks at Patsy's we head back across the street to Elbo Room, finding the doors unlocked this time - it's probably 8:15...their website says they open at 7. Their website is wrong. Back to the story - the doors are unlocked and we walk in. A guy and a girl are there sitting at the bar together, and we approach as if to order drinks. The guy says, "You guys here for the interview?"
us: No.
him: Oh, you'll have to come back later, we're not open.
Screw this place.
We head on up to The Elbo Room, #172, a local music venue. They used to have the Grolsch pop-top bottles here. I order a couple. They don't have them any longer. The Elbo Room has a stage in the basement, the upstairs is fairly loungey and is advertising an "open mic night" starting at 9pm. The place is empty except for us and a few band members who will be playing later tonight entering and exiting the main room repeatedly. It's freezing outside, a good bar would be crowded right now with people seeking shelter from the cold.
While we wait for something to happen (nothing happens), we note that on the outside it's The Elbo Room, and on the inside it's The Elbow Room. Curious.
Back to waiting around for something to happen...
A handful of what must be close friends of the band about to play downstairs show up. Upstairs there's a tv feed of the band playing downstairs. If they gave out awards to bands who played to empty rooms, well this band would be on the list of bands eligible for those awards.
Upstairs a guy shows up and asks Rick and I if we're here to perform in the Open Mic night, and tells us there's a list to sign up by the microphone. An older man asks him when the open mic night starts. It's 9:05. The website said 9:00. The guy says, I don't know, 10:30?
We finish our beers and walk home. In the cold.
Coming very soon: Kyle and Craig discuss the inevitable downfall of Dubai due to their lack of a middle class. (Bars 177 through The End)
Friday, January 15, 2010
Aint Gonna Save Me
We're going to Quenchers on Sunday to kick-off the much less ambitious version of EBONY 2010 -- "Bars in Chicago outside of the Mile Radius We Want To Visit for One Reason or Another, and These Reasons Will Be Explain when We Post About Those Bars". (aka BICOOTMRWWTVFOROAATRWBEWWPATB)
Anyway, Quenchers is having a Stout-fest. We'll drink a lot of Stouts.
I promise before next Tuesday that I will write the final two bar recap entries, and by the end of next week you'll also have the final friends rankings posted, and possibly even the Quenchers recap.
Internet Diversions:
*Black & WTF - a fantastic photoblog featuring only old black and white photos that are incredibly WTF.
*Letters from a grown man pretending to be a child, writing letters to famous people (several of them incarcerated), asking for advice. Also following up on their responses many years later -- Charles Manson, Richard Rodriguez, Alan Greenspan, and my favorite response from Clarence Thomas
Lastly, "The flying V never looked more at home than in his hands" - Sly Larkin
RIP Jay Reatard
Anyway, Quenchers is having a Stout-fest. We'll drink a lot of Stouts.
I promise before next Tuesday that I will write the final two bar recap entries, and by the end of next week you'll also have the final friends rankings posted, and possibly even the Quenchers recap.
Internet Diversions:
*Black & WTF - a fantastic photoblog featuring only old black and white photos that are incredibly WTF.
*Letters from a grown man pretending to be a child, writing letters to famous people (several of them incarcerated), asking for advice. Also following up on their responses many years later -- Charles Manson, Richard Rodriguez, Alan Greenspan, and my favorite response from Clarence Thomas
Lastly, "The flying V never looked more at home than in his hands" - Sly Larkin
RIP Jay Reatard
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