well. that was fun. i learned... a lot? umm how to paint? actually, i did learn a lot. one thing i learned was to let go and not be so AR about every bloody detail. i may have even developed a bit of an attitude.
this was the first class that i've ever gone through that i didn't read every word i was told to. i can't even tell you much of what we were supposed to learn... lots of stuff about contrasting colors and itten and albers.
what i did learn was how to mix and use paint. i learned that no matter how AR or meticulous you are, it's one hell of a feat to recreate a photo with paint. i learned that the right shade of brown can be tricky to get. i also discovered that indeed i, the obsessive compulsive, can indeed splatter my paint and create abstract art. holy crap. a miracle that one.
i also found that i have more confidence in myself and my work than i knew. when i had something that rocked, i said so. when i had something i hated, others taught me the lesson of your best work being the one that you hate. in the end, i was no longer afraid of wasting paint, of getting the wrong color, of painting over, changing the plan entirely. nowhere on the syllabus did it mention this sort of growth.
i discovered that my work doesn't have to look like yours. i discovered that i have a lot to learn, but i've covered some ground already. i've discovered the joy of painting outside the lines. and no offense, your opinion? my day isn't made or broken by it.
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
it's okay kid...
I met Mike at a poker game. I didn't know how to play poker. I followed a boy to that game. The boy was a mess and I was drawn to him like a moth to flame. It was the beginning of my fascination with fires and it took too many years to stop reaching for the flame.
Regardless, there was Mike. He was holding court and when we were introduced, he called me Kid. I hated being called Kid. I stopped being a kid at nine years old. But, when Mike said it and my friend sucked in her breath expecting the wrath, I just said, "Hey, man, teach me to play?"
Mike never left my side. He held me when I cried again and again over that boy I'd followed to the poker game. He opened the doors for me to every bar and restaurant I entered. Men who harassed me disappeared with Mike and either didn't return or stayed away from me for the rest of the night.
Mike had a girl and a child, but the relationship was a disaster. He often didn't have a job and never had a car. I drove him anywhere that he needed to go and loaned him money that he never failed to repay. I picked him up again and again because Mike was a sensitive guy and his girl knew just where to hit him.
We would drive around for hours and talk. Usually, it was about me trying to understand why the train wreck that I was in love with just didn't understand that I was the right one. But, wishes like that are never granted and the harder you wish the more you cry. Mike would sit next to me and hold my hand. He'd say, "It's okay, Kid. Don't lose hope. You're a good girl and you'll be fine."
It's been just about ten years since Mike hit a bridge driving home drunk. It's been just about twenty years since I talked to Mike. Tonight at the corner of Lindbergh and Manchester I heard a voice say, "It's okay, Kid. Don't lose hope."
I haven't, Mike. And man, I miss you.
Regardless, there was Mike. He was holding court and when we were introduced, he called me Kid. I hated being called Kid. I stopped being a kid at nine years old. But, when Mike said it and my friend sucked in her breath expecting the wrath, I just said, "Hey, man, teach me to play?"
Mike never left my side. He held me when I cried again and again over that boy I'd followed to the poker game. He opened the doors for me to every bar and restaurant I entered. Men who harassed me disappeared with Mike and either didn't return or stayed away from me for the rest of the night.
Mike had a girl and a child, but the relationship was a disaster. He often didn't have a job and never had a car. I drove him anywhere that he needed to go and loaned him money that he never failed to repay. I picked him up again and again because Mike was a sensitive guy and his girl knew just where to hit him.
We would drive around for hours and talk. Usually, it was about me trying to understand why the train wreck that I was in love with just didn't understand that I was the right one. But, wishes like that are never granted and the harder you wish the more you cry. Mike would sit next to me and hold my hand. He'd say, "It's okay, Kid. Don't lose hope. You're a good girl and you'll be fine."
It's been just about ten years since Mike hit a bridge driving home drunk. It's been just about twenty years since I talked to Mike. Tonight at the corner of Lindbergh and Manchester I heard a voice say, "It's okay, Kid. Don't lose hope."
I haven't, Mike. And man, I miss you.
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
the evil you know...
last week the woman upstairs kept me up all night. i got forty-five minutes of sleep, then went to work at 7. AND i had class until 10. woe is me, i was ready to clobber her.
she choose to have a party that night... with a herd of two or three and a boxer that was restless. we live in studios... maybe 300square feet. it's not like there was anywhere for me to hide from the chairs being drug across the hardwood floor. but, even that was no big deal. the howling at the moon at the top of their lungs at two am was really starting to push it, but standing on the balcony and beating a drum to welcome the dawn pushed me over the edge... out i went in my underwear. at this point, i no longer cared. "oh would you like me to keep it down?' "that would be just dandy," i said.
so, there were more skitters across the floor, more yelling at the dog. i said to hell with it, got up and made coffee. i've successfully avoided her since because frankly i'm still a little ticked with her.
tonight, i figured out what all the chair dragging is about. the crazy lady is packing up and moving out. *gasp* noooooooooooooo! oh no. she's nuts, but she's well, i know her brand of crazy. she came down last year to tell me that world war three was going to start any day. she knew because of dreams she was having and she has a cousin on a navy ship. she thought she should tell me so that i could make plans. "well, thanks for the info. i don't really know what else to say to you."
but, now she's leaving. she's packing up her yoga mat, her native american drum and her giant dining room set. btw, when you live in a tiny studio, i'm not sure that buying a giant dining set to fill up your only space and sleeping in a corner of the kitchen is the best use of space, but hey.
so, now, i'm going to launch into the mystery tenant. gah. i just renewed my lease and you can hear people sneeze in this building, nice as it is. now, i feel really bad for pitching a fit about how nuts and loud she is. i want my crazy lady to stay.
oh please move in another crazy lady just like her. or maybe a nice looking man who works at wash u med school? ha! who am i kidding, i'm going to be sorry.
karma dude. it comes around.
she choose to have a party that night... with a herd of two or three and a boxer that was restless. we live in studios... maybe 300square feet. it's not like there was anywhere for me to hide from the chairs being drug across the hardwood floor. but, even that was no big deal. the howling at the moon at the top of their lungs at two am was really starting to push it, but standing on the balcony and beating a drum to welcome the dawn pushed me over the edge... out i went in my underwear. at this point, i no longer cared. "oh would you like me to keep it down?' "that would be just dandy," i said.
so, there were more skitters across the floor, more yelling at the dog. i said to hell with it, got up and made coffee. i've successfully avoided her since because frankly i'm still a little ticked with her.
tonight, i figured out what all the chair dragging is about. the crazy lady is packing up and moving out. *gasp* noooooooooooooo! oh no. she's nuts, but she's well, i know her brand of crazy. she came down last year to tell me that world war three was going to start any day. she knew because of dreams she was having and she has a cousin on a navy ship. she thought she should tell me so that i could make plans. "well, thanks for the info. i don't really know what else to say to you."
but, now she's leaving. she's packing up her yoga mat, her native american drum and her giant dining room set. btw, when you live in a tiny studio, i'm not sure that buying a giant dining set to fill up your only space and sleeping in a corner of the kitchen is the best use of space, but hey.
so, now, i'm going to launch into the mystery tenant. gah. i just renewed my lease and you can hear people sneeze in this building, nice as it is. now, i feel really bad for pitching a fit about how nuts and loud she is. i want my crazy lady to stay.
oh please move in another crazy lady just like her. or maybe a nice looking man who works at wash u med school? ha! who am i kidding, i'm going to be sorry.
karma dude. it comes around.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
four songs and no commercials
Modern-day warrior
Mean mean stride,
Todays tom sawyer
Mean mean pride.
I shifted into gear and hit the gas hard. I felt larger than life--in complete control of every molecule that surrounded me.
No, his mind is not for rent
To any God or government.
Always hopeful, yet discontent,
He knows changes aren't permanent,
But change is.
I paused an extra moment at the stop sign in front of his apartment and gave his sleeping consciousness a wink. I was all horsepower and chutzpah.
The highway lay wide open and felt like velvet below my feet. Shifting and gliding between cars, the song changed.
I walked along the avenue.
I never thought Id meet a girl like you;
Meet a girl like you.
With auburn hair and tawny eyes;
The kind of eyes that hypnotize me through;
Hypnotize me through.
I sang along and caressed the gearshift. I was making great time. Then I remembered why I woke up with a start and late to boot. I remembered why I leapt from the bed without a thought to hitting the snooze alarm. I looked through the sunroof into the sun.
A cloud appears above your head;
A beam of light comes shining down on you,
Shining down on you.
The cloud is moving nearer still.
Aurora borealis comes in view;
Aurora comes in view.
I haven't remembered my dreams for weeks. In my dream, I woke up and sat on the edge of my bed. I sat there staring at my pillow covered in strands of auburn. In my sleep all of my hair had fallen out. In reality, I cried in my sleep.
I down shifted and left the highway.
Here come old flattop he come grooving up slowly
He got joo-joo eyeball he one holy roller
He got hair down to his knee
Got to be a joker he just do what he please
I focused on the warmth of the sun and the music. The light turned green and I hit the gas. I am my own strength. I felt powerful and immense.
I sang at the top of my lungs.
He bag production he got walrus gumboot
He got Ono sideboard he one spinal cracker
He got feet down below his knee
Hold you in his armchair you can feel his disease
Come together right now over me
Almost to work. Light traffic and I'm sneaking glances at the drivers I'm passing. I'm like the sun and I'm brilliant. In the review mirror my eyes do not lie.
Look around you, look up here
Take time to make time, make time to be there
Look around, be a part
Feel for the winter, but don't have a cold heart
I'm slipping around turns like an Andretti. Four songs, no commercials and the dream turns to dust and is blown to the wind. I slide into my parking spot and take another look into my own eyes. Be true to yourself.
So lady, let me take a look at you now
You're there on the dance floor, making me want you somehow
Oh lady, I think it's only fair I should say to you
Don't be thinkin' that I don't want you, 'cause maybe I do
I swing open the door and slip out of the car. I smile all the way into the office. Every morning should clear away the doubts and cobwebs of fear, revealing our radiance and giving us clarity.
A dream and tears in the distance. Four songs and no commercials ahead.
Mean mean stride,
Todays tom sawyer
Mean mean pride.
I shifted into gear and hit the gas hard. I felt larger than life--in complete control of every molecule that surrounded me.
No, his mind is not for rent
To any God or government.
Always hopeful, yet discontent,
He knows changes aren't permanent,
But change is.
I paused an extra moment at the stop sign in front of his apartment and gave his sleeping consciousness a wink. I was all horsepower and chutzpah.
The highway lay wide open and felt like velvet below my feet. Shifting and gliding between cars, the song changed.
I walked along the avenue.
I never thought Id meet a girl like you;
Meet a girl like you.
With auburn hair and tawny eyes;
The kind of eyes that hypnotize me through;
Hypnotize me through.
I sang along and caressed the gearshift. I was making great time. Then I remembered why I woke up with a start and late to boot. I remembered why I leapt from the bed without a thought to hitting the snooze alarm. I looked through the sunroof into the sun.
A cloud appears above your head;
A beam of light comes shining down on you,
Shining down on you.
The cloud is moving nearer still.
Aurora borealis comes in view;
Aurora comes in view.
I haven't remembered my dreams for weeks. In my dream, I woke up and sat on the edge of my bed. I sat there staring at my pillow covered in strands of auburn. In my sleep all of my hair had fallen out. In reality, I cried in my sleep.
I down shifted and left the highway.
Here come old flattop he come grooving up slowly
He got joo-joo eyeball he one holy roller
He got hair down to his knee
Got to be a joker he just do what he please
I focused on the warmth of the sun and the music. The light turned green and I hit the gas. I am my own strength. I felt powerful and immense.
I sang at the top of my lungs.
He bag production he got walrus gumboot
He got Ono sideboard he one spinal cracker
He got feet down below his knee
Hold you in his armchair you can feel his disease
Come together right now over me
Almost to work. Light traffic and I'm sneaking glances at the drivers I'm passing. I'm like the sun and I'm brilliant. In the review mirror my eyes do not lie.
Look around you, look up here
Take time to make time, make time to be there
Look around, be a part
Feel for the winter, but don't have a cold heart
I'm slipping around turns like an Andretti. Four songs, no commercials and the dream turns to dust and is blown to the wind. I slide into my parking spot and take another look into my own eyes. Be true to yourself.
So lady, let me take a look at you now
You're there on the dance floor, making me want you somehow
Oh lady, I think it's only fair I should say to you
Don't be thinkin' that I don't want you, 'cause maybe I do
I swing open the door and slip out of the car. I smile all the way into the office. Every morning should clear away the doubts and cobwebs of fear, revealing our radiance and giving us clarity.
A dream and tears in the distance. Four songs and no commercials ahead.
Monday, April 28, 2008
flawed and loving it
Okay. So I'm not perfect. Not just because I make disconnected statements or can't really sing, no matter how great I sound in the shower.
After forty years of knowing I wouldn't be on this earth forever, after 6 years of spiritually working on my acceptance of said fact, after taking my health by the nether regions and getting my shit together, they found something wrong with me. Figures.
So, out of the gate, it's treatable. Not something that cannot be managed. With treatment, I'll probably even loose weight and get rid of somethings that I thought were more about age, than a "syndrome". Funny thing is, if I'd not been so terrified of childbirth and children, I might have found out earlier. Turns out, I was a late bloomer in the other symptoms.
It's okay. I'm going to be fine. I'm just going to start taking medication every morning, just like my cat. But, it was a bit of a jolt. I've never been sick, though I have a propensity for food poisoning. I've always thought I was pretty durable. There comes a day when… yeah, I guess reality checks are necessary.
It's like getting my first "B" or the first ding on my new car. It felt like someone plugged in a neon sign on my back that said "Flawed". It also reminded me that my body isn't really mine, but a loan.
My answer? Embrace the flaw; make it a benefit! New Improved Kym! I'm now in touch with my body and nursing assistants in a way that I never have been! I'm expanding my network of friends!
I've never been perfect. And that makes me Puuurrrrrrrfect!
After forty years of knowing I wouldn't be on this earth forever, after 6 years of spiritually working on my acceptance of said fact, after taking my health by the nether regions and getting my shit together, they found something wrong with me. Figures.
So, out of the gate, it's treatable. Not something that cannot be managed. With treatment, I'll probably even loose weight and get rid of somethings that I thought were more about age, than a "syndrome". Funny thing is, if I'd not been so terrified of childbirth and children, I might have found out earlier. Turns out, I was a late bloomer in the other symptoms.
It's okay. I'm going to be fine. I'm just going to start taking medication every morning, just like my cat. But, it was a bit of a jolt. I've never been sick, though I have a propensity for food poisoning. I've always thought I was pretty durable. There comes a day when… yeah, I guess reality checks are necessary.
It's like getting my first "B" or the first ding on my new car. It felt like someone plugged in a neon sign on my back that said "Flawed". It also reminded me that my body isn't really mine, but a loan.
My answer? Embrace the flaw; make it a benefit! New Improved Kym! I'm now in touch with my body and nursing assistants in a way that I never have been! I'm expanding my network of friends!
I've never been perfect. And that makes me Puuurrrrrrrfect!
Sunday, April 20, 2008
the turtle and me...
I met a turtle today. I took lots of photos of my new friend. He got me and I got him—we were both digging the sun.
It's so easy to be complicated and perspective can be absolutely elusive when I am in the midst of activity. I shouldn't be surprised by the innocently deduced assumptions about me.
I have a tendency to stumble upon first meeting. I assault people that I particularly admire and respect with well-intentioned, witty statements of gibberish punctuated with my grinning idiot look. It also seems that in the past few years, I have lost the ability to have a relevant, cohesive thought translate into the spoken word.
I have a high level of enthusiasm and am eager to go along for the adventure. I've not always found myself in the presence people who share that enthusiasm… social skills are a truly use them or loose them skill. But, I'm worth it if you just hang in there and let me find a groove.
I know that I have friends right now who would be absolutely shocked at some of my history. I'm a lot less naive, a lot less lofty, a lot more intelligent, a lot more creative and focused than I apparently seem.
Well, the turtle and I enjoyed a long awaited sunbeam and he didn't mind my social stumbles. I call that a good day.
It's so easy to be complicated and perspective can be absolutely elusive when I am in the midst of activity. I shouldn't be surprised by the innocently deduced assumptions about me.
I have a tendency to stumble upon first meeting. I assault people that I particularly admire and respect with well-intentioned, witty statements of gibberish punctuated with my grinning idiot look. It also seems that in the past few years, I have lost the ability to have a relevant, cohesive thought translate into the spoken word.
I have a high level of enthusiasm and am eager to go along for the adventure. I've not always found myself in the presence people who share that enthusiasm… social skills are a truly use them or loose them skill. But, I'm worth it if you just hang in there and let me find a groove.
I know that I have friends right now who would be absolutely shocked at some of my history. I'm a lot less naive, a lot less lofty, a lot more intelligent, a lot more creative and focused than I apparently seem.
Well, the turtle and I enjoyed a long awaited sunbeam and he didn't mind my social stumbles. I call that a good day.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Could it be time?
Could it be possible that a solution for Tibet is on the horizon??
Just a moment ago a reporter said the pressure to ask China to open up discussions with the Dalai Lama is rising to the inner circle of Olympic officials. I could feel the flush rising and my heartbeat quicken—my first real hope for a resolution for Tibetans since I stumbled upon the story of the exiled Dalai Lama just nine years ago.
For nine years I have researched, prayed, contributed, supported and organized. I’ve been the one in the room that speaks up when someone asks, "So what’s the deal with Tibet?" I have passed along dog-eared books, explained my stance and beliefs to co-workers, accepted ridicule and maintained determined enthusiasm that one day… the world would recognize Tibet, demand that China account for its actions and maybe one day… just maybe… His Holiness the Dalai Lama could return to the Potala Palace.
Ultimately, I believe that what has happened has had a most positive effect on the world. There are millions of people embracing Buddhism and knowledge of it has permeated cultures around the globe. But, the cost has been incredibly high both for Tibet and China.
And it is here that my conflict lies. I support non-violence. It is at the root of my beliefs, but even I, if I can, will defend myself. I understand that Tibetans may have a difficult time with non-violence—how can I know their suffering? I’m a privileged American.
It has been 50 years since His Holiness had to leave his homeland. I hear the voices and I join their chorus. I can feel the energy and it feels right. The Olympics may just be the place and the time for the world to recognize and embrace Tibet.
Just a moment ago a reporter said the pressure to ask China to open up discussions with the Dalai Lama is rising to the inner circle of Olympic officials. I could feel the flush rising and my heartbeat quicken—my first real hope for a resolution for Tibetans since I stumbled upon the story of the exiled Dalai Lama just nine years ago.
For nine years I have researched, prayed, contributed, supported and organized. I’ve been the one in the room that speaks up when someone asks, "So what’s the deal with Tibet?" I have passed along dog-eared books, explained my stance and beliefs to co-workers, accepted ridicule and maintained determined enthusiasm that one day… the world would recognize Tibet, demand that China account for its actions and maybe one day… just maybe… His Holiness the Dalai Lama could return to the Potala Palace.
Ultimately, I believe that what has happened has had a most positive effect on the world. There are millions of people embracing Buddhism and knowledge of it has permeated cultures around the globe. But, the cost has been incredibly high both for Tibet and China.
And it is here that my conflict lies. I support non-violence. It is at the root of my beliefs, but even I, if I can, will defend myself. I understand that Tibetans may have a difficult time with non-violence—how can I know their suffering? I’m a privileged American.
It has been 50 years since His Holiness had to leave his homeland. I hear the voices and I join their chorus. I can feel the energy and it feels right. The Olympics may just be the place and the time for the world to recognize and embrace Tibet.
Monday, February 18, 2008
wait! come back here!
This morning I got my ass up at 5:30, downed a pot of coffee, stuffed my face with cream of wheat, grabbed my camera and binoculars and was out the door just as the sun hit the horizon.
I was inspired to search for baseballs. In plan words… eagle watching. It's getting late in the season and there was no time to waste.
I had an absolutely blissful and meditative morning scanning treetops and watching old Baldy rip the hell out of yummy fishes. In all honesty, being on the river alone with those incredible birds is inspiring and feels like a distinct privilege.
It also helps to be wrapped up to your ears in layers of warm clothes. I got caught in snow bursts. Ever hear of a snow burst? Me either, but the eagles and I hunkered in close to the trunks until the fitful five minute blizzards were over. It was a bonding experience.
Around noon I crossed the river and headed downtown. I had to pick something up and even though it was President's day, parking sucked around Memorial Drive.
I was waiting for the light to change so that I could make another run up around the courthouse. Just as it changed and I hit the gas, I did a double take at the man I'd just passed. The man that I'd seen in my peripheral was a monk, a Buddhist monk and from the maroon robe and gold monk bag, Tibetan at that.
I was too far passed him with cars crawling up my trunk, so I couldn't stop. I only knew of one monk that might be in town, Lama Lobsong, who I haven't seen for more than a year. I decided to go around the block and see if I could offer whoever he was a ride.
When I came back around, he was gone. I don't know where he went, but he was quick. I drove around a bit more, just in case he might emerge from some secret passage. He was gone. Gone to his warm destination, I hope.
It isn't every day that I pass a Tibetan monk on the streets of St. Louis. For me, that's about as likely as a bald eagle landing next to me and offering me a fish.
I was inspired to search for baseballs. In plan words… eagle watching. It's getting late in the season and there was no time to waste.
I had an absolutely blissful and meditative morning scanning treetops and watching old Baldy rip the hell out of yummy fishes. In all honesty, being on the river alone with those incredible birds is inspiring and feels like a distinct privilege.
It also helps to be wrapped up to your ears in layers of warm clothes. I got caught in snow bursts. Ever hear of a snow burst? Me either, but the eagles and I hunkered in close to the trunks until the fitful five minute blizzards were over. It was a bonding experience.
Around noon I crossed the river and headed downtown. I had to pick something up and even though it was President's day, parking sucked around Memorial Drive.
I was waiting for the light to change so that I could make another run up around the courthouse. Just as it changed and I hit the gas, I did a double take at the man I'd just passed. The man that I'd seen in my peripheral was a monk, a Buddhist monk and from the maroon robe and gold monk bag, Tibetan at that.
I was too far passed him with cars crawling up my trunk, so I couldn't stop. I only knew of one monk that might be in town, Lama Lobsong, who I haven't seen for more than a year. I decided to go around the block and see if I could offer whoever he was a ride.
When I came back around, he was gone. I don't know where he went, but he was quick. I drove around a bit more, just in case he might emerge from some secret passage. He was gone. Gone to his warm destination, I hope.
It isn't every day that I pass a Tibetan monk on the streets of St. Louis. For me, that's about as likely as a bald eagle landing next to me and offering me a fish.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
A community of one? I doubt that!
The Internet is the wide, wide world of information. I love to ask it questions and dig up information. I cast my line today and got a big fat goose egg. The more I think about this, the more aggravated I am.
Guess who doesn't have 2,500 websites devoted to them in the divorce end of the Internet pool? Women who initiate the divorce and don't have a kid, that's who. Apparently, we have all the answers and never look for each other.
Let's discuss what I reeled in—divorce assistance for women, how to survive the anger, how to be single again. If I got dumped and have a kid, I can choose from an absolute plethora of articles with 10 ways to survive the devastation. WTF?
I hate to be the barer of bad news, World, but sometimes women aren't the victims. Sometimes, we're the ones who pack up and move on. Apparently, I have better odds at being hit by lightening than by meeting another mutant fish like myself.
Guess who doesn't have 2,500 websites devoted to them in the divorce end of the Internet pool? Women who initiate the divorce and don't have a kid, that's who. Apparently, we have all the answers and never look for each other.
Let's discuss what I reeled in—divorce assistance for women, how to survive the anger, how to be single again. If I got dumped and have a kid, I can choose from an absolute plethora of articles with 10 ways to survive the devastation. WTF?
I hate to be the barer of bad news, World, but sometimes women aren't the victims. Sometimes, we're the ones who pack up and move on. Apparently, I have better odds at being hit by lightening than by meeting another mutant fish like myself.
Sunday, February 03, 2008
Not your average girl...
No, I'm not your everyday girl. At 5:15 one day a year, all the errands are run, the cat and bird are fed, the laundry is done and folded. I'm in my favorite chair with my pop and crunchy Cheetos, laptop charged and rabbit ears precariously balanced, the door is locked and the phones are off. It's time for the Superbowl
The crash of helmets, the strategy of the line, the rumble of the crowd, baseball may be America's past time, but football has my heart. I'm all for the underdog, which makes me a Giants fan this year. I've got a deep distaste for Belichick and I never, ever root for the Pats. But, truth be told, I don't care who wins. It's all good.
After the reading of the Declaration of Independence and the Star-Spangled Banner, it's kick off--the meeting of the modern gladiators. This is the one day that I forgive the NFL, the politicians and even my mom. I'll buy what your selling be it patriotism or a Ford truck. However, if you want my attention, I hope it's to high five me for a Brady interception.
At half time, I might even drink that beer my neighbor brought me when I moved in 10 months ago. Luckily, nearly everyone in my building is gone. I have been known to get a little loud and take out lighting fixtures in my exuberance.
The crash of helmets, the strategy of the line, the rumble of the crowd, baseball may be America's past time, but football has my heart. I'm all for the underdog, which makes me a Giants fan this year. I've got a deep distaste for Belichick and I never, ever root for the Pats. But, truth be told, I don't care who wins. It's all good.
After the reading of the Declaration of Independence and the Star-Spangled Banner, it's kick off--the meeting of the modern gladiators. This is the one day that I forgive the NFL, the politicians and even my mom. I'll buy what your selling be it patriotism or a Ford truck. However, if you want my attention, I hope it's to high five me for a Brady interception.
At half time, I might even drink that beer my neighbor brought me when I moved in 10 months ago. Luckily, nearly everyone in my building is gone. I have been known to get a little loud and take out lighting fixtures in my exuberance.
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