Haha funny

Here.

And here. (Thanks to the gang at Baseball Prospectus for the link.)

Tagged.

So ... here are the rules:

• link to the person who tagged you
  
• post the rules
  
• write six things about yourself
  
• tag six people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
• let them know they've been tagged by leaving a comment on their sites.
  
• let your tagger know when your entry is up

6 Things About Yourself That You Want to Share With the Whole Darn Internet. My list is more support for the creepy notion that TRP and I are the same person, born four years apart in different states (both scientifically and cartographically). That we exhibit some differences today simply serves to prove that: (1) humans are a mix of nature and nurture, and (2) engaging in time travel so that you can be born twice is really weird and should not be attempted on a Thursday.

UNO

In 2000, my former college roommate started a cover band. Not just any cover band, a Suede cover band called "Swayed." Not just any Suede cover band called "Swayed," a pre-Bernard Butler's departure Suede cover band called "Swayed." The roomie was obsessed with "Bur-nuhd" and his mad guitar chops. I attended several of their shows (roughly 12 of the 15 or so shows they did around town). Fewer than ten people attended some of these gigs. My special role? Wearing a white T-shirt and serving as the "guitar tech." I would come on stage after song #7 or 8 and switch his guitars out. I was a little overweight at the time, so I'm sure it looked ridiculous. The band dissolved after a year or so -- the lead singer had some financial and legal issues, of course. The night of their final show, the singer was uncharacteristically late. The roomie turned to me at one point and said, "You know the lyrics." Fortunately, it did not come to that. (Oddly, a year or two ago, another friend who drums for a punk band asked me to become their singer. That didn't happen either. I have no idea why people think I can sing -- I certainly have no training or experience.)

DOS

Like TRP, I never understood why people thought Uma Thurman was better-looking that J Garofalo. Sorry folks, Uma's not my type. That said, I think David Letterman's "Uma, Oprah," "Oprah, Uma," thing while hosting the Academy Awards is hysterically funny in ways I cannot possibly explain.

TRES

Quite recently, I found myself trapped in a bathroom stall after seeing a sign on the door that reads, "Don't lock the stall, it may not open." As I escaped by crawling under the stall feet-first (after sticking my hand in something very, very wet on the floor), I felt my leg hit something. I apologized to whatever I hit. After sliding under the door, I realized that it was a nine-year-old boy. I ended up bonding with the kid over the fact that the big kids at his school try to lock kids in bathroom stalls.

I learned five things from this experience: (1) PTSD is quite real (I worried that my stall door at PGE Park would jam two nights later); (2) I am not Senator Larry Craig; (3) I am not a pedophile; (4) an incident like this can make one laugh while walking down the street every day for a week or so; and (5) most people recommend exiting a bathroom stall face-first.

CUATRO

Again, like TRP, I have never done illegal drugs. I've been around them only a few times (mostly via neighbors' smoke in the dorms). Adding to my streak of rebellion, I think I have smoked one cigarette and two cigars in my life (this involved coughing). I have been drunk fewer than a dozen times (though at least four of them have been in the past two years). I had nothing to drink on my twenty-first birthday, and I averaged less than one alcoholic drink per month during college. There's no religious reason for this, btw. I simply saw a history of alcohol abuse in my family and wanted to stay healthy. I became absolutely crazy and paranoid about it. And it became who I am. Today, I like a good beer, a good glass of wine, and a good mixed drink as much as anyone else. I just don't indulge in them very often.

CINCO

I go to the gym six or seven times a week. I don't believe I'm a stud, I simply know that being physically active helps me deal with things (As a little kid, I would jump up and down while watching sports/friends play video games because I had so much excess energy). As a middle schooler, I used to get up early and work out in the basement while watching the news/the "Today" show. I would also play memory games during these a.m. workout sessions, making myself recite what the first ten ads I saw during "Today" were -- in the correct order -- while I was bored at school later in the day.

SEIS

A friend tells me that I may be "too normal" for Portland. Lately, I've been wondering what happened to the part of me that always wanted to intern in D.C. during college but never did so. Now, nearly fifteen years later, I think it might be fun.

SIETE (I just violated the rules)

I played poker with the old poker gang last weekend (I have occasionally blogged about this). That night, I dreamt that I was hugging all of my friends who showed up for poker. Weird, intense, and extremely meaningful. Some dreams mean a lot. I don't know what they mean, but something's there. Last October, I had a dream about my grandparents' old house (they passed away 15-20 years ago). I walked upstairs, and it was almost like a hotel. I was happy to see random people in the hallway, and apparently I was supervising or in charge. I went into one of the bedrooms and saw my aunt's bags on the floor. The next thing I knew, this upstairs bedroom was on the first floor, and I was watching kids play soccer right in front of me.

Later, I was told the dream means I take care of people, like the house is me and it's time for me to take care of myself instead of everyone else. For weeks afterwards, I became upset after thinking about that dream. At work, the dream still pops into my head as I work on something stressful. I can't make sense of it, but it is possibly the most meaningful dream I've ever had.



I listened to a Suede album while writing this.

Um ... as long as we don't raise taxes to fix bridges and schools

So, Oregon's "kicker" income tax rebate led to increased spending on state-sponsored gambling. This is awesome. Let me recap: the state spends a bunch of money to collect our income taxes. Then, because no one in the Legislature wants to eliminate the kicker, the state spends a bunch of money calculating how big the kicker will be each year. Next, the state spends a bunch of money distributing the kicker to people. A large chunk of that re-spent rebate money goes into gambling on the state lottery. That money is split among lottery winners, the state agency that runs the lottery, and various government expenditures for which the lottery funds have been designated.

How incredibly inefficient. No, it's not the government's fault, it's our fault for insisting that our government run through such a silly financial charade.

On Problems

I just paid $112 for twelve pills. My insurance picked up $160 of the $272 tab. The pharmacist said she'd understand if I did not want to plunk down a Benjamin, a Hamilton, and two Washingtons for the prescription.

I'm not worried because I know I'm good for it.

Maybe the pharmacist was concerned about my finances because I was wearing sweats and a hoodie at the store.

The thing is, I don't need these pills every day. I don't have a form of chronic debilitation that requires thousands of dollars in medications every month -- or every year, for that matter.

Of course, this made me think of people who lack the health and/or the cash to deal with their medical needs. I had the obligatory "something needs to be done" thought. More than anything, though, I pondered this: if you are part of the system, you can be part of the solution. The health care system is ridiculous. Pointing fingers is also ridiculous. If you deal with this stuff on a daily basis, do something about it, without blaming everyone else. Whether you're a drug company executive, a doctor, a politician, or, yes, a consumer, something can be done. Figure it out.

Relatively Brief NBA Playoff Predictions

1. Atlanta-Boston, Philly-Detroit, and Orlando-Toronto:

The Eastern Conference is terrible, and Orlando, Detroit, and Boston should win easily. If that does not happen, maybe we can shut down the Eastern Conference and have everyone in the West play Best-of-9, or add the ninth-through-twelfth teams from the West to the playoffs. "Sorry, Atlanta, we know you beat the Celtics, and that's a good thing. But you are a really terrible team and don't belong in the playoffs. Here's your money. Go home now." Or something like that.

2. Cleveland-Washington:

This one could be interesting. Cleveland took the East last year, but they have yet to show true dominance or a real sense of team that Boston and Detroit have. I say Cleveland in six.

3. Lakers-Nuggets:

In the West, finally. Denver's bombs-away style will be fun and entertaining to watch. The Lakers are also capable of playing high-scoring games, though, and they play good defense when they want to. Lakers in five.

4. Dallas-New Orleans

This is when the Jason Kidd trade has to pay off for Dallas. After all, they traded away the point guard of the future (Devin Harris) for Kidd to energize their playoff run. But it won't happen. Chris Paul is too good, and even if Kidd plays as well as Paul, the Mavericks simply don't have enough firepower beyond Dirk Nowitzki to keep up with the Hornets. New Orleans in six.

5. Suns-Spurs

Shaq versus Duncan. Nash versus Parker. Stoudamire versus Stoudemire. Raja Bell. Manu Ginobili. Boris Diaw. Grant Hill. Robert Horry. Bruce Bowen. Leandro Barbosa.
A fantastic series. Spurs in seven.

6. Jazz-Rockets

The Rockets will continue their magical season, winning a splendid six-game series despite the loss of Yao Ming a couple of months ago. Why not? Applying logic to Houston's season so far has been a bad idea.

Just Call It Pork-Barrel Politics, Please

The IRS wastes our money by hiring woefully inefficient private debt collectors with political connections. How is this failed project any different from a member of Congress slipping money into the budget for a "Yarn Museum" in his home district? Oh, right, it's because the recipients of the IRS money are corporations and law firms. Well, I guess it isn't a "pork-barrel" project, then.

On Closing

If you believe every baseball team needs a closer with a certain "attitude," be sure he's the best pitcher on your team who isn't starting. In other words, with a one-run lead in the ninth, David Ortiz on first, and Manny Ramirez at the plate, what pitcher do you want facing Manny? That guy is your closer. You should bring him into the game any time you absolutely, positively have to get the other team's best hitters out in the late innings. This is a pretty good argument that Cleveland does not understand the whole closing concept. And here's someone who made the same point during last fall's MLB playoffs.

Stupid

Quick! Change the lineup! Put a guy who should be driving people in back in the leadoff spot, so he can hit solo homers! An 0-2 start is unforgivable!

More things in my head

I've been busy writing a lot at work lately, so, as usual, my increased writing load has led to more of a need to write outside of work.

Look. I'm 34 now. It has probably taken the last 15 years for me to realize this, but somewhere in the 20s you stop living for yourself and start living for other people, either people you've met or people (your future kids) who haven't been born yet. Biologically, that's the truth. So the choices you make today determine how much of you those other people are going to enjoy.

Think about it. Try justifying your behavior to yourself. Better yet, keep a journal for -- or write letters to -- your current or future children and grandchildren. Explain to them why you eat Butterfingers every day for breakfast, ingest mass quantities of harmful substances (both legal and illegal), and no longer exercise. Explain why you, their parent or grandparent, continue to dramatically increase your odds of passing away at age 50 or 60. Explain the demons that require you to do that to yourself, and why it is neither selfish nor immature to act in that way.

Certainly, anyone can justify this to themselves with a series of creative lies. That's the easy part. The real work is writing it down for an audience that would rather see you alive and healthy than on a slow, steady road downhill. Maybe then you'll figure out what's really going on.

Late Night Thoughts

Things pile up for all of us. Things we have not dealt with, things we cannot deal with, things we should deal with. Then, in a 36-hour flurry, it all comes together. Inspiration arrives.

Somewhere between a great concert featuring a lot of songs I'd never heard before and a movie I finally saw about a rat/chef, the realization came: movies and music and art are not about perfection, they are about being made to feel something you can feel only at your most blissful moments. Roger Ebert called "No Country for Old Men" a movie of perfect scenes. Seeing a movie of perfect scenes inspires and elevates Ebert. I have no problem with that, it's just that "Ratatouille" inspired me more, and felt like a truly perfect story, not just a collection of perfect scenes.

If you are not living a life of inspired moments, you are missing something -- and everything. It is time to quit and start that band, write that book, and spend more time with everyone you care about.

• It's time to meet George the Dinosaur, or at least one of his cousins.
  
• It's time for some great wine.
  
• It's time to carry a sofa uphill through the snow, even though it's the end of March (don't ask).
• It's time to be glad about a hit-and-run accident.
  
• It's time to say that it was good to see you too.
  
• It's time to say that playing Legos with the kids on a Friday night is the best thing in the world.
• It's time to spend more time with your friends' crying baby.
  
• It's time to read more Greek myths.
  
• I'm traveling somewhere to see Radiohead this summer, simply because that music has always done something to me that I cannot describe. And I'd see Springsteen, the Flaming Lips, and Beck again because I lack the words to explain what those concerts were like in person (though I'd choose Radiohead's albums over theirs).
• I'm going to San Francisco in August. Will see baseball, the sport that has provided more transcendent moments for me than any other over the years. And I'll have a chance to see George the Dinosaur again in SF.
  
• Make that mistake. Have that conversation you thought you needed to have. Find out you were wrong. Find out they never cared whether you were right or wrong. Learn that, to paraphrase Dr. Seuss (or someone else?), the people who mind don't matter, and the people who matter don't mind. So be yourself.
  
• Figure out what's wrong, what the headaches and the throbbing heart and everything else mean. And, well, accept the consequences. Because that's all you have in life: the consequences of the things you decide to do.
  
• When someone you haven't seen in months says, "I'll grease the wheels for you on that," even though that person owes you nothing, it's time to believe that you're worth it. Maybe you're worth it because you'd do the same for them, no questions asked.
  

The thing about the Springsteen concert is that, when you see a guy doing what he wants to do, loving every second of it, and apparently doing that thing better than anyone else could do it, it is inspirational.

And what does Springsteen want to do? He does not want to be a rock 'n' roll star, he wants to be a certain kind of musician, a certain kind of rock 'n' roll star. He knows that only he can be the kind of musician he wants to be, and he'll be the best at it if he is true to himself.

Is that circular and tautological? Perhaps. But how can one compare the Springsteen concert with the Thom Yorke-Michael Stipe duet on "It's the End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)" in B.C. in 2003? Yorke lost his mind during that song, becoming the musician and star he always wanted to be. Springsteen cannot pull off that moment (or the concert Radiohead performed the next night), nor can Yorke and his band do what Springsteen did last night. But each artist was the person he always wanted to be in those moments. That is amazing, and it gives me insight into who I am and who I should become.

I believe the twin failures of aspiration and imagination are the only things stopping us from being who we really are and becoming who we should become. Great artists are no longer burdened by those twin failures. Great artists shine that light on themselves and on all of us, and I thank those artists -- Springsteen, Yorke, and Brad Bird are but a few examples -- who have done so.

More

Yes, the hour-plus wait for Springsteen was annoying.

Yes, I have had similar delays at just about every other major-label concert I have attended, including two or three annoying delays whenever there are openers.

Yes, I have had similar delays at Ash Street, Berbati's, the repeatedly-defunct La Luna, Roseland, Satyricon, and other local venues for minor-label and no-label artists. While the recent local trend has leaned in the direction of starting on time, it's still rock'n'roll. Delays come with the territory. Besides, early birds get better parking spots.

Just Saw Springsteen

Fantastic. Now, instead of going to the web to find the set list, I can go to the I-Tunes store to sample each of those songs.

Nothing ...

... to say for a while. So, here's an update:

1. Pondering baseball.

2. My brain is on my mind again. Headaches so bad this weekend, I couldn't sit up at a restaurant.

3. I've been in the house for a month now. Everything seems to be a crisis, of course, until it resolves itself. Why did I buy all that crap at Home Depot?

4. As one friend points out, the "Are you an attorney?" pickup line opportunity presents itself about once a year, and it rendered its weird head the other day.

5. Apparently, I will host Easter for my family this weekend. Oh my.

6. This happened. I pretty much missed it. How does a team manage 84 points in each half of a basketball game?

Stewart to Williams

Jon Stewart to Brian Williams: "Are you biased for Obama because you're sexist, or are you biased for Hillary because you're a racist?"

Awesome.

Blazers

The Blazers-Clippers game tonight was almost unfathomably bad. The Clippers couldn't shoot at all in the first half, and they finished at 31% for the game. The Blazers couldn't take advantage, losing a 13-point lead (it should have been 28 points) as the first half ended and playing another horrid third quarter. But, thanks to Jarrett Jack, Von Wafer, and their 25% free throw shooting in the clutch, the Blazers held on. And I watched almost all of it, including the Clippers' pathetic airball with ten seconds left.

Since there are no ties in basketball, a team that did not deserve to win a game tonight won. Because it was on the road, it counts as a good win. Hopefully they won't play like that at home.

Urbina

I hear tell that Ugueth Urbina was born the same day I was and is arguably the best pitcher with my birthday ever. Now he's in prison. Ron Cey is the best players with my birthday, albeit he was born well before my time. Will Russell Martin pass him by?

Because FEMA Simply Doesn't Care About the Inevitable Zombie Attack

Here.