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Its been about 6 hours since I’ve wanted to punch my nutritionist in the face. Don’t worry, she’s fine. I’m kind of fine, but not entirely. Going from what is apparently a 5000+ calorie daily intake to under 2k can make a person straight up ornery. Yet I’ve been at it for a few days and I think I can do this. I also think I understand why foodies are the way they are. If you’re not really eating much then the one good meal you get ought to set your taste buds afire with energy.

I’m not eating much, but I have been reminded of the arrival of a calorie limit, to a boys who are literally and figuratively hungry.

Ten minutes aint what it was anymore. It is a problem.

I started a calorie restriction diet as a way to figure out what garbage was going into my body on a daily basis. Turns out I eat a lot and a lot means that there is a good chance I can slim down by not eating so much. Part of that not eating means avoiding night coffee, which is why ten minutes of writing is taking longer and longer these days. I just don’t have the mental stamina to do anything but stare at a screen and pass out.

I will have to start correcting this in  the morning.

So cometh the time for drafting. Not fantasy drafting–not yet–but the age old ritual of setting men upon blocks and agreeing who shall work for whom for a period of no less than four years. This year there is a lot of excitement at the top. Through the sheer force of media coverage, two quarterbacks have been deemed the first two picks in the draft. Meanwhile two teams have leveraged their futures for the chance to draft 1 and 2 respectively. The Rams spent a ton of picks to draft up to #1. The Eagles followed up today by trading into the #2 spot. Both teams are in need of a future QB, though it is unclear who is looking for someone to compete on Day 1 and who is looking for someone to compete in year three. The Eagles may be looking for a succession plan, and see either Wentz or Goff as the guy to lead them down the road.

How we arrived here remains a bit of a mystery to me. I’ve seen the same tape the experts have and I can tell you that there are at least five QB’s who could be the real deal. None of them seem worthy of the first pick however. I feel like that pick has to go towards a sure thing–a draft predictable position like offensive line. Notice I didn’t say D-Line and invoke the wrath of Jadaveon ‘I ain’t worth the pck’ Clowney.

I feel like the QB’s will go one and two. Maybe it becomes a Manning and Rivers quality draft. Maybe these guys are just a couple of Ryan Leaf’s. Either way, the real excitement is about who the Chargers take at three. Good luck, Laremy Tunsil.

I am writing this as I wait for my Madden Mobile bids to clear. A curious practice to be sure, but one that has brought me a surprising level of joy in recent weeks. I suppose I just enjoy the challenge of a new game–especially one that can be picked up and put aside so easily. I’ve learned that there are certain benefits to being a west coast time zone player–specifically in regards to late night auctions. Most of the country is already asleep and you can go ahead an pluck the top talent with the fervor of someone who knows there are only a handful of competitors out there. Such is the gamer life.

The teacher life is more complicated. I spent the semester very concerned about being better in the classroom and I have been in some instances. I am strongest when working collaboratively. I really enjoy watching my class interact with other classes and going head to head in competitive academics. I feel like this is something I need to continue and see it out until I discover the pedagogical theory lurking there.

The Dad life is far more complex. I am attempting to put myself and thus my kids into a healthier lifestyle both physically and mentally. This means supporting them as they do sports they enjoy and pushing them to appreciate more STEM based interactions and especially cultivate a desire for reading and liberal arts. I don’t think I have been especially effective on that last part.

Still, the boys are coming around to recognizing that I am a writer and hopefully they can take that next step and decide they enjoy writing itself.

Monday can be pleasant. You can find the joy in a monday morning, afternoon, evening, letting the hours move through you as the joy of the coming week builds.

Or, Monday can be horrible. Pablo Neruda writes,

“That’s why Monday, when it sees me coming
with my convict face, blazes up like gasoline,
and it howls on its way like a wounded wheel,
and leaves tracks full of warm blood leading toward the
night.”

There is as much made of mondays as is made of 4 AM as is made of many superstitions. China’s 4 and our thirteen and all the spaces in between where man is supposed to be fearful, or angry, or worn out. I think it can be a lot like the idea of God in that sense. We create meaning for the days and times and holidays and relationships. We extend our hands into the emptiness and hope something grabs us so that we may grab back and not feel so alone.

Mondays can be depressing as well. Mondays could be the day we stare deep into the week and think, “Can I make it through the next few days? Can I survive until the weekend?” Then that weekend comes and the cycle begins anew.

Luckily, I’m not that guy. I’m the guy who sees morning as a chance to start over and do something new, something different and interesting. Once, I decided to try a new word every week, writing that word into everything I could for the entire week and moving to the next word. It lasted a month and forced me to read into my giant dusty dictionary. It also felt kinda artificial, but kinda good at the same time.

That’s the thing about monday. It can be anything you imagine it to be. Monday is the embodiment of beginnings and opportunity and the dawn breaking thrill of possibility. Monday kicks Tuesday’s ass.

 

Yesterday I fumbled through an evening post about the Judd Apatow show ‘Love’ featuring Paul Rust. The point I was trying to make was that there is this standing trope of the average to below-average looking dude constantly being engaged by beautiful women. This show does that, but I want to believe that they are doing it openly and sarcastically. Given the way the writing group drops in various tropes as jokes and open snark, this is quite possibly part of the joke or they are at least in on the joke.

They are in on a lot of jokes, like the one where they cast Chris Rock’s lil brother as the black friend who always shows up to provide the perfect advice, and then he says that he is the black friend who always shows up to provide the perfect advice and his character is in Hollywood to act as that exact trope character.

The show isn’t the best I’ve seen but there are a few gems. It takes some funny shots at Hollywood and the movie industry. I’ve gotten several episodes in and it is strangely uncomfortable and compelling to watch the main love story unfold. The writing itself is wonderful and when those gems hit (mostly the argument scenes and the relationship formation scenes) it is TV gold. I suppose what I like the most about the entire situation is that it never goes in quite the direction they make you wanna believe it is heading. Not overall. See, it isn’t actually a love story.

Not even a little.

I checked out a new netflix show the other day (actual netflix and chill, with none of the urban dictionary flair). The show is called Love and is created by Judd Apatow and the couple of Paul Rust and Lesley Arfin. I gotta say this about Apatow, he’s about the unattractive dudes getting the pretty girl. Of course, that is how everyone is, but sometimes Apatow goes off the deep end. This new show, Love, is interesting. It charts the budding ‘romance’ of two people with difficult backgrounds and very limited skills at building relationships. The show is hilarious and weird and everything you’d expect from the people responsible for This is 40 and girls.

It makes me feel like Netflix is on to something. They are churning out shows at the rate of a local network.  The shows either hit or miss, but tend to hit at a rate greater than what happens on NBC, ABC, and CBS. Even better, these shows tend to be more experimental and land all at once, so I can check out an entire season binge mode.

Some Thoughts:

1. The new interface for the site doesn’t work right. It isn’t publishing the pages without help.

For the record: I get that Palin is paid to make these rash statements that tote the party line on a variety of topics. She’s a less fiery, easily stupider Ann Coulter. Still, following her latest statements about Bill Nye and climate change, I want to pay Rhonda Rousey to punch her in the face. Real Hard.

It might be a function of middle age to become less tolerable of nonsense as you become aware of your biological clock stumbling towards zero. To quote my favorite meme, “Aint nobody got time for that.” So, I’m acknowledging the stupid and then I will move on. Here it goes: To spend your time arguing that we are doing no damage to the environment is to ignore the obvious changes occuring to the environment through the encroachment of earth’s most dangerous STD: Man. Keystone, the pipeline many legislators fought so hard to open, stating that it would not damage the environment has already leaked 16,800 gallons of oil into that ‘unharmed environment.’ So, yeah, Shenanigans.

Some Thoughts:

1. I get stuck on certain things and have trouble letting them go. I think about sports way more than I should. I think about exercising far more than I actually make an effort to do some. This rule also applies to cleaning and gardening.
2. Jamie Alexander of Blindspot fame is also Lady Sif of Asgard. Yep, same chick. I liked her then,  and I still will not watch that show.
3. Blacklist is a whole different matter.
4. Back to the sports thing, it feels like that is all I talk about these days, though it is not. Still it occupies better than 60% of conversational time, making it a significant part of the day-to-day. Too much. I need to make an effort to reduce it and be about more stuff.

There aren’t a lot of things that can make a grown man cry, but watching Kobe have an epic final game is one of them. I missed the live telecast, but followed the highlights with a warm smile. Kobe Bryant AKA The Black Mamba is an iconic figure that transcends the sport of basketball and has become to many people of my generation a scion of our era. It was difficult to watch him these last few years, a man still young in my eyes but in such massive physical decline that he couldn’t put up with the night to night strains of the game he’s been playing since the womb.

Kobe started his career right out of high school. He was the cocky know it all (read: me) who felt he could jump into his professional career without the training wheels of college to guide him in. He was right. Kobe was an instant starter and superstar by year’s end. He went head to head with Jordan and others who were the scions of their time and came out on top more often than he didn’t. Over time he developed the nickname ‘The Black Mamba’ because of he was clearly the most dangerous player in the NBA.

All of this focus on his basketball life covered up a man who’d already had an amazing off-court life. His father was a ballplayer overseas. As a result Kobe speaks fluent Italian and Spanish. Most of us struggle to speak proper English. Of course, tabloids don’t care how smart or traveled an athlete is, they are just interested in who shares his bed at night. Unfortunately for Kobe one such companion was a 19 year old concierge in a Colorado hotel, and when word about the sex got out, she cried rape. I’m being very particular about the order of events here, because once the charge was leveled against Bryant he lost virtually all of his endorsements and credibility. This is before there even was a trial.

Still, Kobe is Kobe and once the charges were dropped, the praise and adulation flooded back into the empty space like water into a dry spring bed. He spent the rest of his career dominating opponents, and rebuilding the brand of the Black Mamba. Last night he turned the page on that career, with a final 60 point game and a win to carry him out. In the words of Kobe, “Mamba Out.”

As I write this blog I am waiting for a ten minute clock to tick away to zero on a series of auction bids in the Madden Mobile game. I first started playing the game on a very long bus trip to the Grand Canyon. I played it out of boredom, but when I got home and gained access to wifi, my boys showed me the possibilities. What fascinates me about the game is the economy. See, players cost money and you can by and sell them for coins which you gain by winning games and challenges. The better the player the more coins he costs–or so you would think. Within the game is an auction system that allows people to sell their players at any price they see fit. Therefore the market dictates player value, and the market is strange indeed.

So I got sucked in. I started playing a bunch in order to gather enough coins to make a serious run on the market. I discovered that the real value comes based on the tier of player you are selling. Bronze is worth under 1,000. Silver is close to that and can be sold instantly for 500–anyone would take that buy. Gold is tricky. I haven’t quite figured out how to sell gold. Elite is the highest level and players can go for millions.. or they can go for 2k. That is what blows my mind. It feels very much like a wild market in that we are battling over specific prices and trying hard to get the product for a price in reason. I am convinced there is a mathematical formula that can be applied to ensure success. I just need to find it.

Some Thoughts:

1. Thoughts and prayers for the Will Smith family who are grieving over the loss of their patriarch. More info on the case revealed that the man who killed him was also the victim in the fender bender. The man was rear-ended by Smith, an altercation of some sort ensued and the man shot Smith.