Les Liaisons Dangereuses

Well I am a famous Internet personality now, but don’t worry. I know you knew me when. Slogging the Super Bowl had almost nothing to do with the Super Bowl and was pretty fun. I lost all my Super Bowl bets, but was glad that the Saints won, which served as a decent hedge. It was no Eli face but any time we get to see a Manning face is a good time.

I went on yet another Gastronauts dinner this week and as the photos indicate I was pretty miserable. I almost heaved up my Natto, and that was the least gross thing we ate. Hipster Fear Factor was fun anyway; it was good to hang out with Curtiss, Benji, JK, Arnie and Rachel. Nice work Arnie on the snowy ride home.

On the woozy heels of all that sake and cod milt I made a decision. It’s risky for me to declare this early, but I’ve kicked off another ‘month off’. It is time for the 2010 edition. Once we get to April its time for Fools Fest (Flash Taco!), and the spring tournaments and before you know it baseball, and you know the Mets will drive me to drink. I’m sure it will be tough, but looking at the calendar, this was the time with the fewest landmines. I’ll let you know how it goes. 3 days down so far. Heading for March 11.

Already I’ve almost failed twice. It’s just social. If I want to see anyone, I meet them for a drink. I wanted to see Tim “Baby” Dahl (fellow Tesltra Alum) who is working in the big city for once, so I was halfway through sending him the, ‘Let’s get a beer sometime’ e-mail when I remembered I was out of commission. I tried to imagine fashioning the e-mail some other way. Tim, let’s get some soup? Tea? No. And showing up and watching him drink is a set up. I’d be pissed if he did that to me, so I’ll try to sync up with Tim next month and hope he isn’t ‘Into the Wild’ yet. Same with P-Funk. I want to see her, but it’s just too weird to invite her over for a biscuit. Maybe we can go for a run.

One of the best things about being in Ft. Greene is being a short jog from Prospect Park. I like to run a lap around the park on days I am in town. You know I am always posting my +/- here.

Today I ran around the park and looked at all the snowmen and forts. I love Brooklyn. A guy ‘Hey-Babied’ me today, while he was pushing a stroller. How was that going to work, exactly? Is he looking for a sitter?

My favorite part of the run is just at the foot of the big hill when I run past the mini-zoo where this happened. I’m transfixed by the story. Those kids were 11 in 1987, just like I was. What fascinates me about the story is the three boys hatching the plan, but only one being eaten by a polar bear. The New York times story explains that they folded their clothing in neat piles, which I might do too while I was stalling, but is pretty thin on how this actually went down. Either there was some group think and team daring and the boy who went first was just the bravest and got into trouble before the others had entered. Or maybe, he was the dumbest, and the other two 11-year-old boys were picking on him, goading him and never planned to go through with it at all.

Now as men, the surviving two are somewhere right now, and they still know and maybe those two alone, if they tricked that boy into being eaten by a polar bear, or if they were only luckier co-conspirators in the same poorly considered scheme.

I think at 11 I was pretty aware of consequences and dangers. I think I knew predators in the zoo would attack humans if they had the chance. I think I knew I couldn’t out run a polar bear. I don’t think I would have wanted to wade in the water enough to get in a bear enclosure (and you know that I really do want to get in the bear enclosure).

I think that at least one of them knew what was going to happen, but that it would have been easy for them to lie that they didn’t because adults would prefer to believe that to some juvenile manslaughter attempt gone ‘wry’.

“The third boy decided not to go wading in the moat and remained outside the enclosure, although he had taken off his trousers.“ You guys go ahead. I’ll be right there. See, I’m taking my trousers off.

RIP Teddy and Lucy.

When I go run in the park, I have to wear gear. I am on a team. I am training for something. I am not just out for a jog. I am running intervals and fartleks for a reason. I don’t think I could make the full lap without my 55 on display somewhere. It’s an excuse and a crutch, like I need my headphones on the airplane. I just don’t have the motivation to go out and run 6 miles if I can’t tell myself I have to try hard for a team, or for an event. I wonder if I will even be able to run after ultimate.

I was on the way home from a lap few weeks ago, when I had a mini incident I was meaning to tell you about. I was running on Vanderbilt, downhill with the light. I ran into the crosswalk about the same time as another person running uphill entered the crosswalk. Just then a speeding car heading up Vanderbilt made a right turn into the crosswalk. I screamed and jumped back and the other runner yelled as well. We both yelled at the car. I quickly slipped right into my “4 Wheels Bad, 2 Wheels Good” bleating mode.

I was jangled. I had been wronged, and frightened. In an instant, I reacted by forming an alliance with my fellow runner. We had been wronged. We had nearly been run over. The other runner banged his fist down loudly on the trunk of the car. “He could have killed you!” I encouraged. Teammates.

The car pulled over to the side. The other runner was yelling. “You have to stop, man. You have to look!” I was nodding from the curb.

Then the other runner spit on the windshield of the car.

Oh. Uh oh. We were right a minute ago, but we just lost ‘right’ and CMFK loves to be right like she loves brunch.

I stepped back and looked around. I looked at the allegiance I had so quickly joined. Two yuppies in performance gear, iPod shuffles and running shoes from Jack Rabbit Sports yelling in the street. And who were we yelling at? A middle-aged black man.

Now the other runner was waving his finger in the drivers face. Some people from the neighborhood had stopped to see what the shouting was about. Some other locals. Some black people. Who were these two gentrifying yuppies dressed like EMS devotees and why were they yelling at that middle aged man? Why indeed! I ran off. Ran home. I’ll try to be more choosy when casting my lot in with strangers going forward.


A few contributions for the links share program:

In the new entrant category:
http://hipsterpuppies.tumblr.com/
The trick is to figure out which one your friends are. Jesse says I am Gus.

Jesse reminded me that these guys are still bringing it strong:
http://straightcashhomey.net/
I need to get my Alabama State Chief Kickingstallions jersey made so a can be famous here too.

Kate sent along this website of blizzard instructions from the DC government:
http://snowpocalypsedc.com/

I love you Tobias, I love you Dr. Manhattan. (Thanks to TG)

I know I say this all the time, but if you have not be staying close with Awkward Family Photos, then you have been missing out. I check it every day and every day I laugh, and since laughter is the best medicine, I no longer need to worry about the death of the health care bill.

One more for the why Terrorists Hate our Freedom list: Yale.
(You may not believe it, but all my research indicates this is NOT a joke.)

Finally, in the file under good ideas category:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=30s6d67xCFA
Think it over.