stevesblog

5 Things Mets Fans Can Do For The Mets

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 13:03:00 +0000

A couple of days ago I posted 5 Things the Mets could do for their fans. Here’s what we can do for the Mets.

5 Things Mets Fans Can Do For The Mets

1. Love Citi Field.

Enough with the worn shitty field and taxpayer field jokes. I’m yet to meet anyone who thinks Citi Field isn’t a great place to watch a ball game.

The Mets delivered us the best park in New York City and even managed to set the bar high on concessions. You get some really good food for your money at Shake Shack and Smoke Joint, and the better beer at better prices goes down easily. Compare what you can get for $20. At Citi Field with what you can get for the same amount at any other sporting venue in the New York Metropolitan area and you will be impressed.

Bottom line, the Mets knocked it out of the park with their new park, even Yankee fans agree.

2. Stop behaving like Yankees Fans

Unfortunately, appreciating Citi Field is one of the few things Yankee fans do well.

By and large, Yankee fans are not good baseball fans. They may be great Yankees fans, but they see the world through Steinbrenner’s dark glasses, and their win now, win always world is not pretty. Let’s give our players some support. Let’s try to see the bright side of things. Get over the idea that postseason baseball is an entitlement. Baseball is about the journey. If you’re lucky, really lucky, once in a great while that journey ends with winning the world series. Appreciate the rest, even the pain.

3. Stop Behaving Like Imbeciles

Enough with the ridiculous “Jeter Swallows” chants. The Mets would be lucky to have a player who is half the leader he is (and this coming from someone who hates the smug look on his face). Enough with “Yankees Suck”.

Focus on our team, on our guys. Try supporting a player when he’s down, or even when he’s just doing ok. Luis Castillo is hitting .285 with absolutely no protection in the lineup. Notice the good.

4. Check out the Mets Foundation

The Mets have some interesting community service initiatives going on. Consider donating some time or money to one of them.

http://newyork.mets.mlb.com/nym/community/index.jsp

5. Your suggestion here

I’ve run out of ideas. What do you got? What can Mets fans do for their team?

5 Things The Mets Can Do For Their Fans

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 03:53:00 +0000

For all we know, in a few days, the Mets may be about to embark on one of the greatest second halves in baseball history. 6.5 back at the break is nothing to be happy about, but team’s have come back from worse deficits with a lot less season to play. Unfortunately, neither Mets fans nor the organization have to look too far to find examples.

That said, this may not work out all that well for the Metsies, and the second half may not be very much about winning. For a fan base that's come to think a bit too much like Yankees fans when it comes to winning, this is not good news, and if the fans are not happy, that’s not good for the organization.

Fortunately, as with many relationships, there is a lot of room for improvement. New York Mets, here are five easy ways to reach out to the fan base and improve our less than stellar perception of your organization. Mets Fans, there’s room for us to improve too. I’ll post 5 things we can work on in a day or two.

1. Metsify Citi Field a bit.

Citi Field is a wonderful place to go to a ball game, just wonderful. While it certainly plays as a big park and some don’t like that (I do for the most part), the one thing that most fans I have talked to don’t like about it is the lack of Mets specificness it has.

The good news is that this is something that can easily be improved as time goes on. More Mets logos and pictures from Mets history are no-brainers. Naming something after Bill Shea, Joan Payson, or Gil Hodges is a pretty good idea too. Paint somethings blue while you’re at it. Get the fans involved in the process and you'll probably receive some great ideas (along with many hare-brained ones)

2. Bring Back Banner Day

I don’t believe I ever went to a banner day or ever took much notice of it back in the day. Nevertheless, it is a part of Mets history and quite beloved. This is another easy thing to do for the fan base. Along those lines, though lesser known, was the New York Road Runner’s Run To Home Plate at Shea Stadium. I’d love to see that on the calendar next year please. It means something to the fans to get a change to play on the field, even if it's just a stroll on the warning track.

3. Reduce some medium priced tickets to something closer to $25., particularly for weekend games

Over the course of the first half, it seems like getting promenade reserved (the cheaper seats) tickets for a weekend game became nearly impossible. Find some way to make some seats more affordable. The Mets offered discounts on some tickets via the Flushing Flash emails several times during the first half, but this largely resulted in tickets priced above $50. plus significant fees.

It was a good step in the right direction, but the goal should be getting more sub $25. tickets into people’s hands. That’s the magic number now.

4.Reach out to the season ticket base and the group ticket buyers in meaningful ways.

The trinkets are nice, but something meaningful (meaning of real value) is better. Give us a free seat upgrade sometime, or some discount coupons for the concessions. Have an event for us in one of the areas of the park we may not otherwise get to go to (or an on-field event). I realize logistically, this may be difficult, but so it coming up with the money for season tickets in mid-december.

I do like that we still get the media guide, though, one friend of mine called the gift we received this year, “A Citi Field Tombstone”.

5. Represent Better

As an organization, sometimes the Mets...don't put their best foot forward. Don't micromanage, but manage yourselves better. I'm not sure why, but PR has never really seemed a focus for the Mets, it should be. It's tough to like an organization that seems to be constantly in crisis and rarely accentuates the positive.

Leaving New York And The Stars At Night

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Sun, 28 Dec 2008 02:44:00 +0000

I mostly like New York, and whenever I leave, even if it's only for a few days, I tend to at least have one maudlin moment, and usually it's at the transfer point to the air train. There's something about seeing the train lines in winter that's quintessentially New York to me, and seeing the snow covered, dark early morning station in Newark really does it, even if they are technically in New Jersey.

Of course, the one thing that I hate about returning to New York is losing the sky. Nearly anywhere else the stars are so much more beautiful at night. I love lying on the beach, or standing on a snowy terrace in Vermont, and really being able to see all that.

The Real Dominican Republic

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Sun, 28 Dec 2008 02:31:00 +0000

Here’s all I can tell you about the real Dominican Republic: When it rains, it really rains. I’m told by several resort employed locals that the weather the last few days has been very unusual. I’m on the eastern tip of the island, and their has consistently been a strong wind coming in of the ocean. Every few hours this is accompanied by a 15 minute monsoon, usually a pretty sneaky monsoon. I think it knows that we want to be at the beach, and takes advantage of that desire. The upside is this forces the Europeans to retreat from the pool, thereby abdicating their stranglehold on the beach chairs. It must be some residual colonial spirit or something.

Other than that, I can’t tell you jack shit about the D.R. I’m pretty sure I’ve covered more ground than most visitors to Punta Cana though. For one thing, I’ve spent time at 4 of the 5 RIU resorts located in the complex. I may make it to the 5th tonight, but it’s a long walk, and I’m not sure Disco Pacha is going to be entertaining enough. I’m actually staying at the poshest resort, or the 2nd poshest, I don’t really know. I was originally at the Riu Taino, but after seeing the Riu Bambu, I decided to complain about the subpar accommodations. For some reason, that got me the serious upgrade to the Palace Punta Cana., which is really nice.

One of the amazing things about this place is that because it is all inclusive, I haven’t really spent any money, in fact I haven’t even touched any local money, except for briefly this afternoon when someone offered me a coin as change and I said she could keep it. For all I know, it was a Czeck crown.

The one time I have spent money is on a snorkeling trip to Catalina Island. It was a fun day, and I saw an eel, a squid (or an octopus) and a flat thing I don’t know the name of, in addition to the usual array of colorful Caribbean fish. Snorkeling has become about my all time favorite thing, and I’m going to sign up for the Y scuba class sometime soon. I may try to schedule one more snorkel trip tomorrow.

Other than the snorkeling trip, my trips outside the resort have been limited to running; and I’m going to post a couple of my routes on facebook right after this goes up. On my first longer run, I saved a baby turtle who looked like he was never going to make it into the water, the surf was kicking his ass. Miia, you would have been proud of me. I realize the turtle would have probably benefitted from the experience of getting to the water himself, but after a passing horse flipped him on his back, I knew my actions were right. My other run took me into a slightly poorer resort area, where the locals were pretty amused by my attempt to kill myself at the hottest part of the day.

And that folks is absolutely everything I have learned about the D.R. this week.
(that and the fact that a Coco Loco is so much better than an iced coffee in the morning)

Write Now

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Sat, 29 Nov 2008 03:14:00 +0000

A long time ago I was going to be a writer. I wanted to be a writer, not because I had so much to say, nor because I had stories that needed to be told, but because I enjoyed it, and because it was something I was very good at. I know the latter reason, not because my mom told me, or because I was frequently published, but because occasionally women were attracted to my very bad poetry. If you can write poetry bad enough that women will fall for you because of it, you have what it takes to be a writer

The reason I talked myself out of writing, at least creatively, was because I thought I had no stories to tell. Nobody I knew had died tragically (except for Richie Ligargeski (sic) and I was out of town when he was run over by a drunk driver the summer between 9th and 10th grade), I had experienced no great romances (something I still haven't, but maybe romances just arn't that great) and I had had no big experiences (though in retrospect this was not true, they were just things I wouldn't write about).

So, I studied journalism, which led to the internet, which led to computers. I put writing off to the side, I said I would tell stories one day when I had some. From time to time, I would come back to it, journaling, blogging, the very rare attempt at journalism, the even rarer attempt at something truly creative.

And then I stopped.

I stopped nearly two years ago, not for any particular reason, though maybe in part because I drink too much. I just noticed one day that I was writing next to nothing. It was no longer a part of my life, it was as remote as an old girlfriend, or a city I used to live in. For the last year and a half plus, I've written about as much as I've been in Miami, or as often as I've spoken to J, and that is not enough.

It's bothered me lately, for the last few months actually. It's bothered me because writing is one of only three things know I do very well (the other two are kissing and loyalty) and I don't like neglecting the art. It's also bothered me because, and I know how stupid this sounds, there are some really bad writers that I get exposed to. There are people who do write and are just awful, and if you're writing anything at all that worships the dark of night and you are not Anne Rice, I'm probably talking to you.

For the record, every writer should have an Anne Ricesq phase, but get it over with when you're young. Get the damn cat poems out of the way too. Anyone over the age of 25 writing about how they feel lost in the cowl of evening's coat or some shit like that, oughta be drowned in pulp.

I like that bit about the coat though.

However, I think I'm going to start writing again, and if I do, I have to be honest, in part I'm going to write about you. Remarkable things happen to people in the course of regular life; simple fears lead to destructive behavior, destructive behavior leads to dead ends, dead ends lead...Where do you go from a dead end? It's one of many things I have to think about. Dead ends are fantastic though, aren't they? They're not quite as good as wherever you are when you stop falling, but they're still something.

Anyway, that's all for now. I believe you're allowed one declamatory post here and there, and this is mine.

No cat poems though.

A Day In My Life January 2007 (Art School Project)

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Tue, 30 Jan 2007 23:53:00 +0000

I woke up to thoughts that I didn't feel great and could have slept longer and that I probably should not have drank half a bottle of wine before bed, this is not unusual these days, what's unusual is when I don't wake up feeling one of those two way. My inability to figure out how to deal with this will intermittently anger and sadden me throughout the day. I will consider going to therapy.

The dog greets me from the couch with a happy wagging tail, I scratch her head and she smiles and I love her for this even though she will later seem uninterested in peeing, a tactical mistake on a freezing cold morning.

In the bathroom, I read about something I will quickly forget in the NY Times Magazine, it might have involved that senator from Virginia. Online, I skim the morning tabloids and peek at the times, nothing interesting at brooklynian, tomato emailed me in response to my suggesting we get drunk and while she's game, I no longer am. I read something I will quickly forget on slate.com, I remember to check out fbofw.com, something I feel a little guilty about enjoying. The dog and I watch part of a bad bad episode of star trek, the dog does not mind. I feed her 6 ounces of kibble and head to the shower.

Outside, while walking the dog a man roller blades by me very very fast on ice slick streets and another man thinks he's crazy, I nod my head and say "That's For Sure!" We stop at Connecticut Muffin for a large coffee and a cheese danish and I think for the eightieth time I really need to replace that carafe that broke last week. At home I scramble some egg whites to go with my danish and settle down for a hodge podge hour or two of email, telephone, and the occasional game of online scrabble played at the speedy pace of 10 or less minutes per game, the mouse on my backup computer is really not up to the task.

I head out again, this time for the subway en route to clients who depend on me to keep them on the technological rails. The dog is not happy to see me go, but I have headphones on so if she whines I can't hear her and I am glad for this. I bundle up and even though it is not deathly cold, I don my gator which allows me to walk the streets and feel warm. I think about spending a few days in Florida this weekend, and this may be a very good idea I will revisit tonight or tomorrow. I stop and buy a gatorade I will nurse all afternoon and descend into the subway.

On the train I read the science section from last week; it includes stories about hospice, how sperm swim, and how to use forced migration to benefit species facing extinction and later on the way home later when I finish this, I wonder why I read science so religiously. At 23rd street I get off the train and check voice mail and I realize 6 hours later that I have forgotten to return the message.

I reorganize a long neglected email system increasing productivity for a small literary concern. I like the people I'm working for a lot and they ask smart questions and do what I suggest which makes them so so so much better than some clients. When I'm finished a few hours later, I have a cobb salad at Cosi. I think about how salad is no longer considered all that healthy and think about going to McDonald's instead. The girl behind me at the Cosi talks too loudly. On the way home, I restart a book about a family of circus geeks that I started a few months ago and then got sidetracked from.

Back in Brooklyn, I lift weight, I stretch muscles, and I steam and when I steam I think of Kevin Spacey in American Beauty thinking "This is the best part of my day." I love the schvitz. I talk to EY briefly about our possible trip next week. As I leave the gym I bump into someone who I used to see at the hash and we may get a drink sometime. I'm not really so sure I want to go out and get a drink ever again but I am sure that this is not really true.

I head to the tea lounge where I write these words and fail to resist the urge to edit too much as I go along. There is a girl sitting next to me for the last hour and she looks vaguely familiar but we don't do anything besides exchange a smile here and there and I watch her laptop for her when she gets up for a minute. Eventually because I want to tune out the sweet and tender hooligans sitting nearby, I'll put on my headphones and listen to the only music I have on the ibook, Morriseys first and best solo work Viva Hate.

On my way home tonight, I will buy asparagus for dinner and blueberries for breakfast. I will get home and the dog will be so happy to see me that she will practically insinuate herself into me. I will call an old friend I have neglected, K2, and I will drink a half a bottle of wine, and if I'm lucky someone will read me a story before I fall asleep.

This Song Is Not A Rebel Song

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Mon, 29 Jan 2007 04:44:00 +0000

So...

I'm sort of over Park Slope, and by extension, maybe Brooklyn. It remains to be seen whether this is a passing disinterest or the real thing, but at the moment I'm just not feeling it. I don't believe in this place anymore.

Before I go any further, if you don't know, there are many many things I love about this neighborhood. You'll have to take my word for it. Assume that my natural predilection for negativity has at long last won out, though it may just be temporary.

It's the provincialism that's sort of worn me out. Brooklynites constantly pat the borough (and themselves) on the back, a behavior which our Borough President has mastered to the point of obsessive compulsion. It isn't completely new, it was started by my parent's generation, a group that fled to the suburbs, maudlin for the stoops, spaldeens, and sports teams of their childhood. Maybe this is what we receive in return for cursing Walter O'Malley who took the Dodgers to California.

I think until then, Brooklyn never felt the need to pat itself on the back. Those were some big hits Brooklyn took in the 50's and 60's though. It was tough after that, the Brooklyn of Vinnie Barbarino. Still, Brooklyn came back.

Of course, the Brooklyn that everyone loves doesn't exist without Manhattan, and this is where the provincialism gets ridiculous; most of it is done at the expense of Manhattan, the center of the universe. This is patently ridiculous, it's like stabbing yourself in the heart.

There are some great neighborhoods in Brooklyn, but part of what makes them great is that they are in a sense bedroom communities. They are retreats from the turmoil of Manhattan. Park Slope is one of these and a very nice one at that. In fact, it would be a very nice place anywhere, but it is what it is, and it's a bedroom community.

It's not just the provincialism though, it's the entitlement and the way that everyone believes they are always right and always the center of the universe. This needs no great explanation. It's just annoying.

So.
(sorry this is kind of disjointed)

Haven't Had A Dream

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Fri, 19 Jan 2007 21:29:00 +0000

Some days I'm not sure what I'm doing exactly. I didn't do much today. I got stood up by a client. I did some reading about css and cms, wrote emails. If you spent the day in the office, I realize this doesn't seem so bad, but I have too many days like that. I feel pathologically lazy sometimes and there are so many things I want to do.

I need to start a new business because, well because I want more money to be honest, but also because what I do is largely uninteresting to me. I don't hate it, but well I want to do more.

I need to volunteer more. There are all these people that have so much less going for them than me, and I want to spend more time with them. I would have really liked to have done something with the developmentally disabled for a living, but it didn't work out like that. So, I need to volunteer. I used to, but I get distracted easily.

I need to cook more. I'm going to make a nice corn chowder tomorrow or Sunday, whenever I have the time.

My friend loaned me a guitar because I've been without one for a while. I need to get past bar chords this time round.

I need to read more, write more, learn more. I don't seem to ever have the time for this. I feel stunted intellectually these days. I know someone who I think stopped learning and I think this has contributed to his decline. This scares the living fuck out of me.

Damn, I'm in a mood today, ugh. Sorry I have nothing more interesting to write.

Link To My Secret Blog About You

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Fri, 19 Jan 2007 21:24:00 +0000

http://www.quickbyte.net/thisonesboutyou

Menopause

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Fri, 12 Jan 2007 21:21:00 +0000

They actually have a term for male menopause, andropause; if I remember correctly it refers to the decrease of testosterone that apparently begins about 20 minutes after you figure out how to meet women on a regular basis. These are the kinds of things you learn when you google medical terms, something I do about every two or three months. I do this because I have an undiagnosed condition that when I describe it, invariably brings about the response, “ It sounds like you have menopause.”

This reaction doesn’t bother me as much as it sounds like, I’m just trying to beat you to the punch. It is pretty unlikely I have either menopause or andropause, though I sometimes wish I did, because not knowing is incredibly annoying. Incredibly annoying actually describes the totality of my symptoms such as they are.

Basically, every few months I seem to lose control of my ability to regulate temperature. I get hot and cold, I sweat profusely, I feel like I have a fever, I am tremendously fatigued. This is usually brought on by some sort of cold or whatever, and I generally can’t tell where the real bug begins and whatever the hell is wrong with me ends. Basically my metabolism and immune system go completely out of wack and I feel like useless shit. This goes on for several weeks in varying degrees and then slowly disappears. It has been going on every few months for over 2 years, though it used to happen to a lesser extent whenever I got a cold for at least a few years beforehand.

Other than menopause, popular diagnoses include Epstein-barr and chronic fatigue, neither of which really make sense. I have baffled 2 PCPs and an endocrinologist. I plan on seeing a new PCP and maybe an infectious disease guy next week.

I only mention all this because it is keeping me from doing the things I want to do and slowly driving me crazy.

On the plus side, I’ve lost 5 pounds in the last week or so.

Jumping Someone Else's Train

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Fri, 12 Jan 2007 21:20:00 +0000

I really like trains, they’re the one form of transportation that I can really relax and enjoy. Plane’s are an abomination, cars are insane, and buses take the one aspect that makes cars enjoyable, the fact that it’s you and the robe, and dispose of that for something far far worse. Trains though, we get it right there more often than not.

Amtrak, 5pm. I’m heading north to Boston, on an uncrowded commuter train. My only real complaint is the lack of wireless, but I’m not surprised by that. If you take this train often enough you know how to bring your own access, but it’s still disappointing. The ticket was pretty expensive too, $96. I could have flown for less on JetBlue or taking the FungWah bus for $15. I’m told it’s $15., but I can’t imagine how it can be that cheap. Those busses must get damn good gas mileage.

The train is alright though.

I think I’d like to take the train out to EXY’s wedding in Oregon this summer making stops along the way. EXY talked about this too, about doing this with a group of people. It’s kind of cool that we are so much on the same page on some things.

Here’s the funny thing about this trip. I’m going to Boston to see someone I barely know. Someone I spent a few hours with on New Year’s morning, and that I thought maybe I would see once again at the wedding, or maybe at another party in the interim.

It’s really kind of crazy, but it’s worth it one way or the other. The weekend might be fantastic, it might be a complete disaster. It doesn’t really matter because it’s interesting. You spend so many weekend doing the same thing you did the weekend before. It’s a familiar ramble, you go to the same pubs, meet up with the same friends. You go to a party because it’s a party and you know, something might happen!

(This makes me think, exactly what are those lyrics in “How Soon Is Now” but I don’t have a copy on my laptop and as mentioned, I’m not connected to the global whosis…)

So, I went to a party and something happened and here I am on a train to Boston banging on my keyboard about it. Sure, more interesting things have happened, but they don’t every weekend.

I Saw The News Today Oh Boy

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Mon, 08 Jan 2007 00:39:00 +0000

"I'm looking for someone to spend lazy Sunday mornings in bed drinking coffee, reading the NY Times, and (of course) snuggling." --- This is a sentiment that I read again and again on JDate, not as often as "Don't bother me on Sunday, I'm watching football!", but often enough. Interestingly enough I never read either of these statements on nerve.com, the only other online dating site I ever frequented. You can draw your own conclusions as to exactly what that indicates about the women on these paragons of online dating.

Anyway, women that wrote the latter statement were automatically dismissed from consideration, but I always thought I would like to spend more mornings in bed with someone reading the NY Times. The more I think about it though, the more I realize it would prove incredibly disruptive for me, as like most readers of the Sunday paper I have developed my own little routine for how I go about this otherwise mundane task and I shudder to think at would happen if someone else were sharing my copy.

The first and most important task is chucking a whole chunk of the paper in the gah-bage. I particularly relish throwing out the automotive section as I have never ever been the slightest bit interested in it. I'm sure that anyone in bed with me would agree with this decision, but , most of the ads go with it, real estate too, unless there's a good cover story on a neighborhood I'm interested in. Most women I know would probably want to spend more time with those ads, even those of you who claim to not like shopping. So, now I have all these Goddamn ads getting spread out in the sheets and this is not the morning I had planned on.

From there I hit the sports section, which I consider a warmup for my favorite sections of the paper and this is where I think things would really get out of control. After sports, I go for the "City" section and "Week In Review". These are two of the most popular sections and I've seen people clutch these very carefully when sharing the Sunday Times. This kind of shit is a recipe for relationship disaster.

I could go on, but I don't think I can stand to think abotu what would happen if the "Book Review" or "The Magazine" were fought over. No, I think I'm gonna look up one of those girls who likes to watch football on Sunday. Most likely, a girl like that has little interest in the Sunday Times. With her glued to the tube, there will be more room in bed anyway.

Suffer Little Children

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Sat, 06 Jan 2007 01:27:00 +0000

I spent the day surrounded by dozens of excitable children, something I have never done before, at least not since I was an exciteable child. I wish I could say that I really like children but the best I can do is say I really like children sometimes. I guess most men feel that way.

Anyway, an hour ago while I was walking down 7th Avenue, a guy wished someone a happy new year and than as he and his daughter had walked away he turned and asked her, "When is it too late to say happy new year?" and they continued from there talking about how long after various holidays you could wish a person a happy holiday. It was so cute, I could die.

I realize this is a little trite, but it's these kind of quiet moments on the sidewalk that make me glad to live in New York City. Usually, we focus on the louder ones, but at the end of the day, these keep me that much closer to being a nice sane good person.

I Have A Cold

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Wed, 03 Jan 2007 18:53:00 +0000

I have a very annoying cold. I fought it off last week, but it kept coming back and now it seems to have taken up permanent residency in my sinuses. This is not making me happy.

Damn You Rubik!

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Wed, 03 Jan 2007 05:48:00 +0000

Someone gave me a Rubik's cube a few days ago in an apparent attempt to drive me insane. I have no hope of ever solving the thing, it's actually a little harder than a regular one because it has NFL pictures on it. I'm going to throw it off a bridge I swear to God.

So This Is The New Year

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Tue, 02 Jan 2007 03:08:00 +0000

I met a girl last night, and if you're her don't worry I'm not going to tell them anything about you, well nothing too personal anyway. Weird thing about the internet, people go online and say things about the people they know. To be honest, I just never saw that coming.

Anyway, this girl I met told me that she loves Valentines day (ostensibly because of the heart shaped food), something I don't think I've ever heard anyone under 50 declare. Valentines Day is of course, a Hallmark holiday, manufactured by the makers of greeting cards, chocolates, and legions of Mexican flower vendors. It's kind of brilliant, because if you're involved with someone, you basically have no choice but to do something that day. Even if it's an ironic gesture, you're still taking it up the ass from the man, all in the name of love, or sex, or the hope of one or the other. We should really be ashamed of ourselves for falling victim to this kind of programming. Yet we do, and so it goes.

I want you to know that I truly believe what I just wrote, and I think that
I will never really change my mind. That said, if the right girl tells me she loves valentines day, you can bet your ass I'll go all out. It's all about the girl, and this is something we would all be better off remembering.

Moving on...

I do like New Years. I like a good party just fine, and last night was certainly one of them, but the thing I really like about New Years is the whole concept of the new year. I'm a big believer in the fresh start of the year, though I think September, when the school year starts, seems more appropriate. I like the resolutions too, and seeing as I'm losing steam here, and basically ready to pass out, here are mine for 2007.

1. Read and write more. In particular blog something here or in the techblog every single day.
2. Only do things that I really want to do, only spend time with people that I really want to spend time with. I have this bad habit of accepting less than I really want in life. No more.
3. Less Drama
4. Eat less and better.
5. Develop more core strength. I mean physically, but hey, what the hell emotionally, psychologically whatever. Core strength is god strength!

techblog tomorrow

Pop Will Eat Itself

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Wed, 22 Nov 2006 02:01:00 +0000

I have to be honest with you, I'm sick of the poorly thought out reactionary bullshit I saw in this thread. It's pathetically cloying, it's about people needing to feel like they are better than others because of an isolated factor and that's just stupid. Nobody does anything in a vacuum, nothing except judge others and that's all that most people do.

I've been thinking about this, not because I care what your kids wear (ostensibly the subject of the thread I linked to) but because I'm interested in what little 9 year old Johnny Rotten and little 8 year old Kimmie Deal are doing in a band, and playing at CMJ no less, as covered in the NY Times last weekend. When I first heard about this show a few weeks ago I was stymied, but given a chance to think about it, I think it's pretty cool.

I think my original indecision and yes, indignation, was because of the generation gap which for the last 50 years or so has been largely characterized by relationships to pop culture. Modern pop culture quickly became linked to rebellion and moodiness, initially characterized by the icon James Dean, who was rebelling against the Eisenhower era and the silent generations quiet conformity.

By the time my generation, X got around to rebelling, Molly Ringwald and the Brat Pack were the new icons, as much a product of the Reagan era conservatism and boomer disillusionment as anything else, something people my age ate up with gusto. The Brat Pack's rebellion had a lot in common with Dean's, both icons felt trapped, primarily by their parents but more accurately by society.

Your kids on the other hand are part of the first generation in the era of pop culture to really rebel with their parents, not against them, or at least in addition to rebelling against them. Actually they are just the most obvious indicator of a trend that's been reported on here and there the last few years, parents and their kids having things in common and actually being friends.

To those of us who invested in rebellion and perhaps more importantly never had good relationships with our parents, this is downright bewildering. To some, it's threatening, since the tools of our own rebellion (pop culture) are being used to foster the relationships you have with your children.

This started with the boomers of course, but it never quite took like it is now. Where it gets downright ironic for Generation X'ers, at least those without children, is you are not only using the same toolset, you are using exactly the same tools; the same songs, music, and politics that we still think of as instruments in our own rebellion, even if we don't think in those terms anymore. I really don’t think you can take Minor Threat quite so seriously once a group of 10 year olds has covered it.

Of course, what this really illustrates is the silliness of pop culture fostered rebellion. How's that for irony Gen X?

fuck me

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Mon, 06 Nov 2006 05:57:00 +0000

In the end, it wasn't anything I expected that did me in. It was my right knee which started bothering me maybe about 8 miles in and by about the 14th mile became a source of intermittent hobbling white hot pain I had never experienced before. I was done about 5 miles later.

I probably could have walked or run/walked the last 7 but I had already been doing that for a while and the upside there was and still is lost on me. Finish what you start, sure, but I know too many people that have had knee surgery, so I let it go and began a long slow walk to my friends at Mile 23 and then to get my bag. EY and EX were gracious enough to join me and to even take care of me when my hamstring decided to spasm to the point that I was nauseous a couple hours later.

Ah, running can be so much fun.

A couple of sidebars:

Immediately after bagging it and starting west towards the park, I passed a couple of janitorial workers, one of whom said "You Quit, huh?" I think I should have killed her. Instead I will always think of her as too stupid too realize how stupid she is.

After picking up my bag from the finishing area (which I more or less had to break into) I exited to rejoin the E's and the Park Ranger guarding the exit said, "Congratulations". It really was all I could do to smile. She must have said that to hundreds of people and I hope nothing but good happens to her.

Anyhow, it's about 12 hours later now. I don't regret pulling out of the race and I'm not mad at myself and this is good. I had a lot go wrong today, and for that matter the last few months of training. I still think it was the right decision. I'm not even particularly upset that I didn't finish. Primarily, I'm not looking forward to explaining it a couple dozen more times over the next few days, but that's how things go sometimes.

What drives me crazy though is the knowledge that I still have to run one of these well. So, I know at the very least, I'll be doing a marathon next year. However, I can't help but think about Palm Beach in early December. This despite everything about me saying, that's enough for now, focus on other things, you can do it next year. This despite the fact that I am so sick and tired of thinking about the marathon and the fact that it has sucked any pleasure out of running for me. I've got a marathon sized chip on my shoulder.

Nerves

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Sat, 04 Nov 2006 04:08:00 +0000

I can feel the race nerves already. It's close enough now, and they feel like a ball of energy tumbling over and over again in my chest. This is what gets you to the start of the race and gets you started and it gets you across the finish line if you need it. It can even carry you through a race but not a marathon, a marathon is so long that you need something else.

Everything Is Coming To A Grinding Halt

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Tue, 31 Oct 2006 13:26:00 +0000

My loyal readers can expect to waste more time than usual this week on this blog as I won't be drinking, or really doing much of anything until after the marathon. I'm going into the monk's cell or at least my version of it. The most exciting place I'm gonna hit in the days to come is the tea lounge or maybe the Starbucks on 7th Avenue. Lively! They have much better couches.

It's not that my life is dusk to dawn nightclubs, far from it, but I need to sleep this week and alcohol makes it harder for me to sleep well, so no drinking for a few days. Instead I'm going to suck down a couple of books I'm in the middle of and maybe one I haven't started, check out the comic book exhibit at the Jewish Museum, and maybe even see a movie, though it seems like the theaters are full of nothing but dreck the last few months. Are there any good movies to be seen? A Guide To Recognizing Your Saints looks the most promising.

Either way between the monks cell and the fact that work is s-l-o-w, I should have plenty of time to kill this week.

One Day Closer

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Mon, 23 Oct 2006 03:21:00 +0000

It still hurts.

A year after spraining my ankle, two weeks out from the marathon, and one workout closer than last year, the damn thing still hurts. It's not a real pain, certainly nothing worth going to the doctor for (excepting you assglider), but it's still there, one of a litany of pains that do not go away, in a body that before I took out that ankle, had never really been hurt.

I felt so good on my last long run last year, strong and fresh, I felt as good running as I ever had, and I had for a couple of weeks at that point. I only hit that peak once before, the previous spring and not since. Last year it was easy. I turned it on in September, after a horrible NY 1/2 marathon, and a month later I felt great.

This year...I've had to push myself through every run, I haven't peaked. I've been exhausted sometimes, my calves have ached, I strained my abdomen doing sprints I didn't need to do, and I probably sprained my wrist. I ran out of gas for a couple weeks in August. I think I over trained and then I under trained, and now I just do what I can when I can, and sometimes the results are not bad, and sometimes they are. I'm tired, and I can't wait for the marathon to be over and for running to be fun again. It hasn't been for a while.

And I sort of think, because this is the optimist I am, that I have a hell of a marathon in me this year. I think this because this is the marathon I was training for last year and it is the one I am training for now. This is the marathon I was ready to run 50 weeks ago even if it is obvious that I cannot run that race at this point.

And I sort of think that I'm going to crash and burn hard and this is ok too.

One way or the other, I'll be out there again next year no matter what I may say now. This despite the fact that I hate the marathon, I hate the distance, I hate the training, and I hate the commitment they entail.

This doesn't mean I don't like running, and I mention this because someone else did recently. I'm just talking about the marathon, and despite the fact that I hate it (did I mention that?),I respect it, I respect it very much.

Any experienced distance runner can most likely roll out of bed in halfway decent shape and do a half marathon, generally the next shortest distance people race. Most people can even approach their best times even when they do not have their best running days. There's just a larger margin of error to work with.

The marathon on the other hand is something that can kick your ass on any given day, particularly if you have not trained well. Doing your very best at the marathon is an extraordinary thing, to do it the best you can, takes a lot of things going your way. You have to cross-train, you have to avoid injury and sickness, you have to have a little luck along the way. It helps if the weather is just right.

A lot has to go right, and that has not been the case for me this year.

So, no matter what happens in less than two weeks, I'll be out there again next year. Even if I run a 3:44, and that is my unreasonable high performance goal, I'll still need to know how well I can do if a whole lot more goes right.

And that's where I am one day closer than I got last year.

You Are Really Stupid And Listen Poorly

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Mon, 25 Sep 2006 18:43:00 +0000

Discussing politics with people is pretty much the most pointless exercise that you can engage in these days. There are a lot of really good reasons for this but ultimately one stands out. Most people who give a shit about politics can no longer discuss politics without acting really, really stupid. These people are ruining it for everyone else.

Now, we all know these idiots, and frankly if you live around here, you’re surrounded by them, and they call themselves Democrats or Liberals. I can’t tell you if the people who call themselves Republicans behave the same way, and I don’t care because I don’t have to deal with them.

What kills me about these people is that a lot of what they believe in I believe in too. I wouldn’t fight a war for oil, and I would give every tax dollar I could towards improving public education, general health care, and public transportation.

At the same time I support wars to help the helpless, and I’m a big believer that people should just shut the fuck up and do whatever it takes to accomplish what they want, which ultimately means I get tired of people whining about disadvantage. This as far as I can tell is not good enough for todays politically active Democrat or Liberal

They mean well, but only if you believe exactly what they believe in. Challenge the sacred cows of their simplistic world views, and they get uppity. Don’t say a word about politics and they will say things which imply you believe what they believe, which is just a challenge to say, “Wait a minute…” Either way, they get contemptuous, and they try to change your mind without respect for your opinion. They argue irrationally, and they jump from totem to totem without regard for logic.

The only other people I know that behave like this are Sushi Nazis. If you’re not a big fan of raw fish, you know these people as well. They’re the people that are convinced they can get you into sushi if you go out with them. They say they know exactly what to order so that you’ll enjoy the experience and then they whisper…sake! They have a hard time taking no for an answer whereas any normal person realizes that convincing a person who doesn’t want raw fish they want raw fish is about as extreme a conversion as changing from a Born Again Christian to a Buddhist.

Or changing a Post Y2K Democrat to a Republican.

So, there really is no point in trying to discuss politics with these people, and even worse the fact that they’ve resorted to yelling and crying nonstop, means no other voices in the very wide gap between Rudy Giuliani and Howard Dean’s are being heard. This is nothing new but it is important to remember because there are people in that gap, people just like me, and the fact of the matter is that you’re alienating us and this is not conducive to your overall goals.

So, for the love of God, think about what you’re saying and once in a while stop whining, shut the fuck up, and listen.

Fracking Marathon Training

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Mon, 25 Sep 2006 18:43:00 +0000

I want to tell you how I feel about running.

I don’t think I really like running very much. I definitely don’t need or like it as much as I need or like sex or food, two things that people who write about running often say they need or like running as much as.

I want to be clear, there is no way I will ever need or want to run as much as I need or want food and sex.

I run because I have no choice. If I don’t I’m going to get fat because I love to eat. If I get fat…well you can probably figure out where I’m going with that.

I run because if I don’t I will go to jail and I will most likely die. This will happen because without regular exercise I will surely kill someone. If you’re at all worried that this might be you, you shouldn’t be, I would have already told you to fuck off and you most likely will have. As for society at large, the good thing is I already know this, so you too are safe.

I run because I am competitive, not only with others but with myself. I want to beat you in a race and I want to beat me too, the me who ran the race last time.

I run because I love to race, but I had to start running to know this.

And I write this because lately I really hate running, as I am repeatedly getting my ass kicked as I try to prepare for a race I don’t even really want to run. My long runs are just awful tests of my ability to endure painful tedium for hours at a time during, and tedious pain for days afterward. Forget about speed workouts, and for that matter most of other interim runs, I can’t seem to be pain free enough to get through them. I never feel 100% and that wears me down.

And I keep going out there because I want to beat me which is the stupidest thing in the world because it doesn’t even matter. I don’t even like the marathon as a race that much. The really frustrating thing is I don’t expect to come into this race feeling that great, not nearly as good as I felt when I sprained my ankle last year. I’m just not there, and I haven’t been. There’s still time, but I’m not counting on it.

So, I will in all likelihood be kicking my ass through this again next year.

For a month after the marathon, maybe two, I’m not doing any running. It’s a good thing for society at large that I have that gym membership.

I Can Do Most Anything

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Mon, 25 Sep 2006 18:36:00 +0000

I have a really annoying defensiveness about me. “No shit”, you say.

I have no problem acknowledging this defensiveness. It’s been a part of me for as long as I can remember, and I have no doubt that it served a useful purpose. It might even still, but I no longer want anything to do with it. This is undoubtedly the kind of thing that takes years of therapy to undo, but I can do most anything, so I’ll do it here. The universe is my creation and anyway, I don’t have the time or money for therapy, and if I did I’m too stingy with both.

I didn’t really care too much until recently about this. I sort of figured that anyone who got to know me would figure out when to ignore my defensiveness, enough people have. Occasionally someone will think I’m being defensive when I’m just being self deprecating, and I have to explain. I have to tell them the truth, and the truth is that you will know if I’m really hurt because that’s when I really say something nasty in return. Most of the time I’m just acting defensive though.

And then recently, I decided this was not good enough.

And then a couple of weeks later, I decided again.

This is what you call negative reinforcement I think.

Nothing really remarkable happened that led me to this realization, I just didn’t like the way I reacted to people in a couple of instances. I was stupid; my assumptions were ridiculously clouded by my own defensiveness. My own flaws were just so apparent, that it would be a shame to not take advantage of this opportunity to change. More importantly, I realized I no longer needed this particular characteristic.

A Bad Night's Sleep

noreply@blogger.com (steve) — Mon, 11 Sep 2006 12:23:00 +0000

I sort of deserved this I'm told, but I slept awfully last night. At first I kept on waking up because I kept falling into lucid dream states, the kind where you wake up in the dream and can't wake yourself up and you're just terrified. Then I had a couple of regular nightmares and that woke me up. Finally the alarm woke me up after a rock solid 2 hour stretch of sleep.

I'm not sure if if was the ice cream I had a few hours before I went to bed, junk in my body from my long run yesterday, or just some sort of pre-911 angst, but once I turned on NY1 this morning and realized I had to head into Manhattan at 8:30, I was filled with plenty of the latter and surprisingly a little bit of fear. Anyway.