So the olympics have come and gone. Michael Phelps is likely a robot, Chinese gymnasts are likely jr. highers, and synchronized diving is likely the worst sporting event ever created.
I mean, seriously...Synchronized. Diving.
Still, the olympics were fascinating and the opening ceremonies spectacle was amazing. I'm scared to think of what Chicago might do to compete with that presentation. What have we got to compare to that? I think our best bet is to just offer italian beef sandwiches and deep dish pizza while ushering people down pot-hole riddled highways and tapping their Ipass for money. It's just crazy enough to work.
Something else is holding my attention, though. Several things, actually. Right now, though, as September draws near, it's the time of year when a young man's thoughts turn to that one special thing...
Football.
I love my Bears. My love for The Beloved has been documented throughout this blog. This year it looks like we're putting Sexy Rexy on the backburner and turning control of the offense over to the one, the only, The Neckbeard. I'll be honest, I've always thought Rex had more potential. There was that six game stretch in '06 where he looked like and MVP candidate. Something went wrong after that, though, and he hasn't been able to regain that top notch form since.
Now Kyle Orton running the show, though, and you know what...he's looked pretty good. If the defense can step up and the special teams can continue to dominate, we just may be able to call The Beloved division champs this year.
I, for one, am excited.
And it has nothing to do with gold medals.
Much luv,
Rob
______________________________________________
Song of the Day: "Compadre'" by Insyderz
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
At first I was afraid, I was petrified...
I survived!
No death-avenging required, folks, but I know that you were ready should the need have arisen. Go ahead and pat yourself on the back. You deserve it.
Go ahead. Do it. I'll wait...
See? Don't you feel better now? How's the self-morale? Elevated, no?
I thought so...
What a weekend! It all started with a circus attempt to rent a convertible from the good people at Avis rental. There was a slight problem with our coupon, so it was going to end up costing more than the Primrose boys had thought, so we walked. (Not to West Virginia, mind you, but out of the Avis rental office.) Ready and willing to bail us out in our attempt were the Bruchmans. Big thanks to them for letting us use their Sebring. There's nothing quite like the wind in your face as you cruise down the highway at ridiculous hours of the night while rocking out to music from just about every genre imaginable. Good times.
Rolling in at 4:30 a.m. was just the beginning...
Saturday brought a day at the beach (complete with giant iceberg and trampoline!), some cricket, and (of course) delicious s'mores around a campfire. More good times.
Cricket was a new experience. It's a great game that can be played (seemingly) by any number of people. It'll be even better to play it someday on a flat surface that is less rock-riddled. I'm sure that there's got to be a better way for setting up the "wicket" (I believe that's what it's called) each time after the top pieces get knocked to and fro, though. Something akin to the pinsetters in bowling, perhaps...
Still, I feel like I learned something new, and despite what has previously been said about the dangers of learning something new, this was great! A classy game for the ages and one that I will certainly play again!
Sunday was the big day, though, whitewater rafting was on the schedule and nervous tension was on my heart. Not having ever done it before, I wasn't really sure into what I was getting. I believe my exact words, as I headed toward my boat and the on-site cameraman put his camera in my face, asking, "What's your name?" were, "You can call me nervous."
I was. (Although my calm, cool, unflinching demeanor wouldn't show it...and if you believe that I've got some land to sell you.) After signing, what seemed to be, a 1,300 page waiver you can't help but feel a little uneasy.
So we hopped into our raft, drifted out to the calm waters and began to practice following our guides directions. It all seemed easy enough. Then we were off...
Now, my mind is racing with analogies that might shine a light upon that which is whitewater rafting. I was going to compare it to football because it's on my mind. I thought that maybe I'd compare it to a movie because, well, my mind just tends to work that way. Perhaps I'd compare it to gas prices, because that talk is all the rage lately...
I think, though, that I'd like to relate it to a great spanish song of my liking. It's called Malaguena Salerosa. (Just ignore the video, listen to the music. Or watch the video for all of its cheesy glory, I don't care.) I don't have a clue as to the meaning of this tune, but it has a special place in my heart because it is...well...awesome. The song starts off pretty briskly, maintains for a while, has a guitar explosion around the 3:27 mark, and then calms back down. I feel like that song captures how I felt throughout the trip down the river rather well. (The Class V "Double Z" section of the river coinciding with the guitar eruption at 3:27.)
Yeah, I'm a strange person. I know this. You know this. Let's just move on.
Seriously, though, the rafting was a lot of fun, and I encourage any of you "I haven't ever gone whitewater rafting before" types to get out there and try it. If you're lucky, you'll end up in a raft full of awesome people (I was lucky!) who will make the experience even better...be it somehow managing to keep yourself in the boat "Chuck-Norris-Style" or grabbing onto the water cooler for dear life while screaming, it's a joy for your fellow rafters either way. Morale in our boat couldn't have been higher due, largely, to the frequent "paddle high-fives."
If you find that it is not to your liking, I'll...well, I won't do anything for you. Still, though, I'm fairly certain you'll enjoy it. You're reading this on the internet...the internet wouldn't lie to you, would it?
All in all, an awesome weekend. Great trip up...fun time there...awesome trip back...and I even learned a valuable lesson while there:
"Words mean things."
Think about it. Simple. Elegant. To the point.
Woah.
Anyway, that's my story from this weekend. I could go on and on and on and on and on...but I won't.
Not now, anyway.
In the meantime, you should learn the "Pirate Dance." (Draw the sword, drink the rum, walk the plank, kick the shark. Repeat.)
Much luv,
Rob
________________________________________________
Song of the Day: "Hey Jude" by The Beatles (nothing beats belting this one out at the top of your lungs with your boys while cruising down highway 65 with the top down...obeying all posted speed limits, of course.) (Although the techno remix of "Listen to Your Heart" comes pretty close.) (There's a lot of info in this "Song of the Day" part today, no?) (I like parentheses.)
No death-avenging required, folks, but I know that you were ready should the need have arisen. Go ahead and pat yourself on the back. You deserve it.
Go ahead. Do it. I'll wait...
See? Don't you feel better now? How's the self-morale? Elevated, no?
I thought so...
What a weekend! It all started with a circus attempt to rent a convertible from the good people at Avis rental. There was a slight problem with our coupon, so it was going to end up costing more than the Primrose boys had thought, so we walked. (Not to West Virginia, mind you, but out of the Avis rental office.) Ready and willing to bail us out in our attempt were the Bruchmans. Big thanks to them for letting us use their Sebring. There's nothing quite like the wind in your face as you cruise down the highway at ridiculous hours of the night while rocking out to music from just about every genre imaginable. Good times.
Rolling in at 4:30 a.m. was just the beginning...
Saturday brought a day at the beach (complete with giant iceberg and trampoline!), some cricket, and (of course) delicious s'mores around a campfire. More good times.
Cricket was a new experience. It's a great game that can be played (seemingly) by any number of people. It'll be even better to play it someday on a flat surface that is less rock-riddled. I'm sure that there's got to be a better way for setting up the "wicket" (I believe that's what it's called) each time after the top pieces get knocked to and fro, though. Something akin to the pinsetters in bowling, perhaps...
Still, I feel like I learned something new, and despite what has previously been said about the dangers of learning something new, this was great! A classy game for the ages and one that I will certainly play again!
Sunday was the big day, though, whitewater rafting was on the schedule and nervous tension was on my heart. Not having ever done it before, I wasn't really sure into what I was getting. I believe my exact words, as I headed toward my boat and the on-site cameraman put his camera in my face, asking, "What's your name?" were, "You can call me nervous."
I was. (Although my calm, cool, unflinching demeanor wouldn't show it...and if you believe that I've got some land to sell you.) After signing, what seemed to be, a 1,300 page waiver you can't help but feel a little uneasy.
So we hopped into our raft, drifted out to the calm waters and began to practice following our guides directions. It all seemed easy enough. Then we were off...
Now, my mind is racing with analogies that might shine a light upon that which is whitewater rafting. I was going to compare it to football because it's on my mind. I thought that maybe I'd compare it to a movie because, well, my mind just tends to work that way. Perhaps I'd compare it to gas prices, because that talk is all the rage lately...
I think, though, that I'd like to relate it to a great spanish song of my liking. It's called Malaguena Salerosa. (Just ignore the video, listen to the music. Or watch the video for all of its cheesy glory, I don't care.) I don't have a clue as to the meaning of this tune, but it has a special place in my heart because it is...well...awesome. The song starts off pretty briskly, maintains for a while, has a guitar explosion around the 3:27 mark, and then calms back down. I feel like that song captures how I felt throughout the trip down the river rather well. (The Class V "Double Z" section of the river coinciding with the guitar eruption at 3:27.)
Yeah, I'm a strange person. I know this. You know this. Let's just move on.
Seriously, though, the rafting was a lot of fun, and I encourage any of you "I haven't ever gone whitewater rafting before" types to get out there and try it. If you're lucky, you'll end up in a raft full of awesome people (I was lucky!) who will make the experience even better...be it somehow managing to keep yourself in the boat "Chuck-Norris-Style" or grabbing onto the water cooler for dear life while screaming, it's a joy for your fellow rafters either way. Morale in our boat couldn't have been higher due, largely, to the frequent "paddle high-fives."
If you find that it is not to your liking, I'll...well, I won't do anything for you. Still, though, I'm fairly certain you'll enjoy it. You're reading this on the internet...the internet wouldn't lie to you, would it?
All in all, an awesome weekend. Great trip up...fun time there...awesome trip back...and I even learned a valuable lesson while there:
"Words mean things."
Think about it. Simple. Elegant. To the point.
Woah.
Anyway, that's my story from this weekend. I could go on and on and on and on and on...but I won't.
Not now, anyway.
In the meantime, you should learn the "Pirate Dance." (Draw the sword, drink the rum, walk the plank, kick the shark. Repeat.)
Much luv,
Rob
________________________________________________
Song of the Day: "Hey Jude" by The Beatles (nothing beats belting this one out at the top of your lungs with your boys while cruising down highway 65 with the top down...obeying all posted speed limits, of course.) (Although the techno remix of "Listen to Your Heart" comes pretty close.) (There's a lot of info in this "Song of the Day" part today, no?) (I like parentheses.)
Friday, August 1, 2008
I'm invincible!!!
Ah, it was like old times...
Tonight I tasted the sweet nectar of nostalgia in the form of one of the greatest video games of all time. I've often claimed that "Kaboom" for the Atari was the greatest video game of all time. There's no winning in that game. The bombs just drop faster and faster until you lose, but accumulating an abundance of points is just flat-out good times.
Still, "Kaboom" was not the game of choice this evening. Tonight, I played some Goldeneye for the Nintendo 64. It only took a moment to select "Kissy" as my control style, Boris as my character, and "Facility" as my stage and I was thrust into the action, tossing proximity mines like crazy around a bathroom and watching my foes explode before me.
As I often like to say:
It...was...AWESOME!
What is it about playing an old game that brings such joy to my heart? Why is it so comforting? Is it the familiarity? The longing for some happy memories from the past?
Nah, I think it's the fact that blasting your foes with a rocket launcher in the "complex" level brings some joy that simply can't be found elsewhere.
Especially if that foe is being represented by Oddjob. I hate that guy...with his stupid hat, short stature, and smug look on his face.
Anyway, it was much fun, and I highly recommend digging up something fun from your past for another look. Good times.
Off to go whitewater rafting in West Virginia this weekend. If I don't make it back, please avenge my death.
Much luv,
Rob
_________________________________________________
Song of the Day: "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough" by Michael Jackson
Tonight I tasted the sweet nectar of nostalgia in the form of one of the greatest video games of all time. I've often claimed that "Kaboom" for the Atari was the greatest video game of all time. There's no winning in that game. The bombs just drop faster and faster until you lose, but accumulating an abundance of points is just flat-out good times.
Still, "Kaboom" was not the game of choice this evening. Tonight, I played some Goldeneye for the Nintendo 64. It only took a moment to select "Kissy" as my control style, Boris as my character, and "Facility" as my stage and I was thrust into the action, tossing proximity mines like crazy around a bathroom and watching my foes explode before me.
As I often like to say:
It...was...AWESOME!
What is it about playing an old game that brings such joy to my heart? Why is it so comforting? Is it the familiarity? The longing for some happy memories from the past?
Nah, I think it's the fact that blasting your foes with a rocket launcher in the "complex" level brings some joy that simply can't be found elsewhere.
Especially if that foe is being represented by Oddjob. I hate that guy...with his stupid hat, short stature, and smug look on his face.
Anyway, it was much fun, and I highly recommend digging up something fun from your past for another look. Good times.
Off to go whitewater rafting in West Virginia this weekend. If I don't make it back, please avenge my death.
Much luv,
Rob
_________________________________________________
Song of the Day: "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough" by Michael Jackson
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