Friday, January 13, 2012

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 4 Issue 1

I contemplated starting this new volume of .e4 off by making fun of the new hipster subculture of our society that I experienced in A-Town recently. I had this clever lead in to these “fixed gear” riding, preppy grunge style, and board game paying fools in bars with a day-walk story (so day-walking is when I just kind of wondering around during the day when everyone else is at work, it’s ok to be jealous). I would have shown all these pics of cool street art (and stray dogs) to you but my New Year’s Resolution was to not make fun of people I don’t really know (that’s like impossible by the way). So Instead here’s a story about high school basketball officiating…

After my sophomore year of really only being the 1 in the box and 1 defense in high school JV basketball I decided to hang up the sneakers (I did throw a behind the back pass that year though in a fast break, I’m still pretty proud of it). I did start working at the mall (outlet that is, us country folk don’t live close to real malls) but I was also a pretty enthusiastic fan for the basketball team. I was even known to verbally spare with the refs about calls, the general officiating of the game, and how the other team is cheating.

After one particularly poor officiated game the next night at the game a girl in my class tapped me on my shoulder (as I stood in the front row under the basket so everyone could see me) so I turned around to a folded up ref’s shirt and the girl (whose dad is also a referee) saying:

“The guys from last night’s game thought you should have this because you talk so much shit during the game.”

I’m not going to lie; it was one of my proudest athletic moments in high school. I wore that ref’s jersey to the rest of the games as my best friend and some bum we found on the street (that’s a lie) also dressed as refs for all the home basketball games and tried to make the calls throughout the whistles (yes we were idiots). We took it probably too far by wearing warm-ups to the JV game and stretching out and warming up only to bust out our officiating gear at the horn. We made ridiculously homered calls on the sidelines and had as much fun as possible (never kicked out, threatened, but never kicked out).

I find myself wondering from time to time what happened to my two officiating buddies. I definitely hear stories about what they’ve been up to; it’s a little hard not to in South Chuck. I also try to take this with a grain of salt (or pills of lithium, I kid I kid) because I can just imagine what they’re hearing about me. I think the last rumor I heard was I was knocked up with NPH’s baby (I don’t even know how that’s possible). I’m sure whatever life has brought my officiating buddies it’s far from the one I have heard about or could imagine; I know my story is.

The time is approaching fast for the release of my book and to say that’s something me, or anyone from South Chuck, would have imagined is more than a stretch. I like that idea, doing something that when I tell past friends about, it makes them look confused (like how could this drunk write a book?). Hell even I still think that from time to time. I guess my real New Year’s resolution (because I’m definitely going to make fun of people) is to try and have fun again; and I think that can be as easy as just being me.

That being said I’ve replaced the music video this week with a poem I wrote. I’m using it on message boards and the like to promote “Somewhere Over the Rainbow. I’ve Lost My Damn Mind: A Manic’s Mood Chart”. Enjoy!

Coming Correct,

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