My friend Mr. Women's College Basketball

You might know someone for twenty one years and only find out about their passion for womens college basketball over this past weekend.

Sure he tried to play it off, but his knowledge of the women’s game in general, and the LSU women in particular was absolutely delightful. Do you hear me? It was just so outstanding! I just never knew? Who really follows women’s College basketball besides the parents of the players, and those nutjobs in Knoxville? Maybe their girlfriends and boyfriends follow it? Also, My long time friend, apparently does as well. He is like Rainman with his Knowledge on Women’s College basketball. I half expected him to drop a box of matches and tell me how many were in their just by looking at the mess on the floor.

We were at a bar and the LSU women were playing the Oklahoma State women on ESPN in the background. We aren’t really watching it, we are mostly having a few adult beverages when he casually mentions Sylvia Fowles is the Women’s player of the year. I’m like wow? That’s cool. It was certainly some knowledge, but he is a huge LSU fan and we are talking about the player of the year. It’s something that maybe anyone in that position would know. But then Erica White took the ball coast to coast. Of course I didn’t know it was Erica White, at the time, but he made sure to tell me all about her. I don’t really know any women College Basketball players names at all. My friend did though. He was Yelling at the T.V. GO Erica, Go…He was giving me insight on her game “She doesn’t shoot much but she is quick and can really handle the ball and play defense.” It was like he was a part of the telecast announcing the game. That’s how cool it was and how much Knowledge he has.

That’s when I started messing with him about it. Not only did he know the whole roster, He knew their individual games and how they played. “This one is great at the free throw line.” “This one can really get out and run.” “This other one, once stubbed her toe in the 3rd grade while playing jacks in the backyard patio of her home in rural Mississippi.” “I think she stubbed it on a table but she trys to tell everyone it was on the railing of the side of the patio deck” That’s how much Minutia and overall background the man posesses, He is able to dispute an injury for a woman that happened 9 years ago. He studies it that much. Dude definitely knew some nuance about those women. Then he started telling me about the Coach. Evidently he is a living legend who was actually in the women’s College basketball Hall of fame. He told me about the LSU women being in the last 4 final fours, He was breaking down the prior
coaches legacy for me, and how she was run out of town for having a Lesbian Affair with an Ex-Player. I am thinking to myself I have found a Treasure trove of opportunity to mess with him about this stuff forever. I will have to study the Women’s game myself, just so I can have little Tidbits of information to drop in on him. I think I am going to start by buying him a WNBA cap. I so hope he wears it all proud and stuff. That would be so awesome. I am glad it brings him so much joy and happiness and I love how it makes me laugh just thinking about Him, and his uncanny deep knowledge of the sport.

I like imagining him waking up in the morning, checking out the paper to find out when the Lady Tigers play and then scheduling his whole day around that. I can just see him sitting in his lazy boy with a note book by the chair so he can chart out shot selection and some doritos and a little beer hat that has a tube running down from the cans that you stick on the side of the helmet. It just makes me laugh thinking about it Oh the joy you are bringing me my friend. See you in Gainesville in October, Nashville some other fall weekend.

Ryan out of the doghouse

Hanging out with my LSU buddies last night. Evidently Ryan is on a real short leash over there in Baton Rouge.

They told me Ryan would have a better Pro Career then Tebow. Bet them a dollar he wouldn't- have to wait till 2018 to see though....

I stole this photo from an LSU fan sight. Ryan out of the doghouse.... For now.

Four things I want to talk about today

Today, I have a bunch of things I want to talk about, so its just going to be hit and run on this post… Bare with me,--- Next week I anticipate actually writing one of my best posts ever, so we all have that to look forward to.
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Next week’s post Is one I have been thinking about in my mind for a few days now, plus I am going to actually get Paid for it as well, in a bartering type of way. So it will be special for me because of that, and I anticipate trying to make it worthwhile for you to read to the end. I say that part about reading it to the end, because it will be kind of a long post. But for this day, I am just going to write a bunch of stupid shit about stuff that came up today in my mind.
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I went to “Arte Americas” on Thursday Night. It is an art show for Latin American Artists held in the Miami Beach Convention Center. That’s right, I went to a racist art show tonight. This show is strictly for artist from Latin America. Hence, my adjective for it: “racist” If they held a show and said it was for WHITE MAIL EDUCATED AMERICAN MEN ONLY? I think the American civil liberties union would be all over it. But you know what? I don’t really care in the end, so don’t let me go down that Self Righteous anti discrimination post that is part of my very DNA right now.
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No, for right Now, I want to tell you about a piece of ART I did NOT buy. First of all, My thinking before I got into this show, sort of on the way over, was that this was going to be Latin American Art. Meaning, I would look at the art in question and think to myself, Self, this looks like a Latin person painted it.. well you know what? That did not happen. The Art was just Art. Also, Most of it SUCKED really bad, just like White people did it. Or a second grader. But this one piece I came by, just stopped me in my fucking tracks. It was like my shoes suddenly had that superglue that the guy hangs his helmet from an I-Beam on in those silly commercials.
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It was a painting of a woman that was so beautiful, I believe Angelina Jolie would go Lesbian on her just to be with the person this painting represented. ( I stole that idea from someone that commented on my cell phone about the Angelina Jolie Post of yesterday, the person texting me said she thought Jolie was so HOT that she would totally go LESBO just to be with her)
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Right now I am WAY poorer then I know I should be at this stage in my life, but I didn’t care, I absolutely would have paid $1,000.00 to own this piece of Art. Unfortunately, the asking Price was $69,000.00. Sure I probably could have talked them down to Oh? I don’t know? $65,000.00, but All I could afford for Art was nothing, Nada, ZILCH, and I was totally willing to blow that ART budget of zipperino by about 1k, that’s how awesome this painting was.
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We are talking about Art that would make Angelina Jolie Go Lesbo right in front of you.. that is some powerful ASS SHIT right there. But anyway, I didn’t buy it, and then I went and had a few more glasses of vino from their little plasticky ass plastic wine cups.
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You could end this post right there, but I would feel bad if I didn’t touch on just a couple more things.
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This morning, a blogger sent me an E-mail telling me how much he liked my blog. He sent me a link as well, and I went and checked out HIS blog. You know what? His blog was awesome, and I put a link up on my links part of my web sight. He can be found at: http://slideshows.nachofoto.com/?i=0 and while there, I ended up reading about an animal called a Civet. A Civet is a cat like, raccoon resembling, feline type of animal. Evidently you give this animal Coffee beans, wait till it poops, dig through that very same poop and pull out the coffee beans and VOILA, you have the worlds most expensive coffee beans. If you are like me, you probably are thinking if I got my coffee beans from a Civet’s poop, I would probably think I was entitled to a discount? That’s just me, and probably just you, but in reality, The rest of the world thinks you should pay a premium for that type of coffee. Somewhere in this world, coffee beans that come from Civet Poop, are HIGHLY desirable.
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Almost done.
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One more thing though, Today, in the Miami Herald I read about a fellow that has a job working out of Alaska. When a ship is in trouble, it’s his job to ride in a helicopter out to the middle of the Pacific Ocean sometimes, and lower himself into the water to help put survivors in a rescue basket. Last week he saved 43 people while doing this, and was in the arctic ocean for over 3 hours (yes he had a special suit on, but I am still betting that shit was really cold) I am such a loser, I lost the article and don’t recall his name. But that’s not why I am a loser, I am a loser because my job entails me getting up and commuting that 2 feet to my desk. It requires me to look out my window at the beautiful ass Centrust building. Sometimes I even have to talk to people on the phone, but at no time am I ever asked to slide down a rope into the middle of the North Pacific Ocean with Swelling ass tidal type waves, that are freezing cold, to save people I don’t know.
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You know what though? I live in a world in which there are people that do that, and it makes me humble about being me, and glad I am part of the same overall humanness that this guy comes from. Here is to you, “Mr. I jump out of a helicopter 250 miles from shore, into huge ocean swells of the pacific Northwest water which are just above freezing. Oh yeah, also, I do it at Night time without a night light….”
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I totally respect that about you, even if I lost the paper that had your name in it and am just mailing that part of this post in…

SINCERELY


Bill From Gainesville.

The 3 random things I like post

This is the three things I like post. I like looking at the Centrust Building at night. It's beautiful and they change the color of it most nights. I look out on it from my window. and my terrace. Its Called the Bank of America building now, but I still think of it as the Centrust building.

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I like living in a city that has NFL football, even if it is the Dolphins, and I am definitely going to some games this year and am totally looking forward to getting on board as a full fledged Dolphin fan. I am not going to throw away my Jaguar shit or anything drastic like that, but I am going to embrace the Fish.

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Angelina Jolie. ---Nuff said, but I will say something anyways. Not only is she beautiful ,-I think she is a good human being , not that I know for sure, I can only base it on the stuff I read about her, and her efforts in Africa and with children and stuff but I think she has some Depth behind all that beauty.

Getting your hotdog on.....

Just walk outside of my apartment. Go down the hall, turn left when the walking room runs out, and before you run into the wall at the end. Make another left from there, into the little elevator waiting area. Push the button with the downward looking arrow and then just wait…… Wait some more…. Wait a little longer… Check yourself out in the little mirror while you wait, but don’t let anyone catch you doing this.. Wait a little bit longer. O.k.! Get on the elevator! Listen to the elevator actually talk to you. That’s right, My elevator is so bad ass you don’t just ride that son of a bitch, you actually have a relationship with it. She will tell you she loves you, She will act like she is the only elevator on earth that has feelings for her passengers. She knows if you have been riding other elevators elsewhere in this great city. She truly does really care about you.

Walk through the trendy ass lobby with the decorated sterling silver benches and Orange covers that somehow clash beautifully with the red pictures showing a bunch of fish. I know. Its crazy. Orange and Red don’t go together, but you never met the interior decorator my building people hired. She is awesome and she can make that color combo work.

Go out the front doors of the building. Turn left, walk about one block down to the corner. Cross the street diagonally, or, if you aren’t a rebel like I am, just cross one street, then the other as if it were a big huge “L” that you get to walk around like your whole body is a blind kids fingers as he feels the shape of that letter, going from one corner of a square to the opposite corner.

Just get your ass to that opposite corner of the street.

Take out your three bucks from your used ass, tired looking bifold of a wallet, (don’t ever let yourself get fooled by a skinny looking trifold, its all done with mirrors)and buy yourself the most perfect hot-dog you may ever sink your teeth into. No kidding. I have a street vending Hotdog stand just down the block from where I live. My life includes a deliciously delicious hot dog stand within walking distance of my apartment! I am big time! I live near a street vending HotDog stand! I don’t think of myself as better then you, I just know that if life were all about how close you live to a grade A, number ONE Hotdog stand , and the access you have to said Hotdogs, I have WON that game. I am like the New England Patriots of living by a hotdog stand. I am the king as far as that part of life is concerned. I may not be able to keep together a relationship, but I damn sure live next to some mighty fine hotdogs during the weekdays.

The lady speaks zero English, but she will make you a dog that will take you to the heights of “pleasureworld” itself. The act of pointing to the condiments you want, and watching as she
waddles her way around the cart to put the Relish and the Onions and the Ketchup and Mustard on it, is kind of primordial.

Your English speaking skills are not helping you get your dog here, no sir. Its your actions, Its communicating like a caveman might, if Cavemen lived in downtown areas of major cities with hotdog stands on the corners. Just pointing at stuff and the various grunts you have to employ, and of course the occasional ball scratching signals, that makes the process of “getting your hotdog on” all that much more rewarding is good enough for me.

Ultimately I am paying her Three dollars to get the thing. But the way we communicate, it’s like the basic Animal that we all are. It’s the equivalent of hunting down the wild Hot Dog, shooting it, gutting it in the field and then putting the ceremonial Ketchup all over her in a little squiggly type line right out there on the African VELDT. I swear to GOD I love this about my life.

The hot dog stand lady will offer you her little folding beach chair to sit on, but I always decline. I take that dog after she has made it exactly the way I want it, and walk a little ways away from her cart, and eat the thing right there on the street like a Turkey Vulture eating a roadkill Armadillo. I will get condiment runoff on my hands and not give a shit. The dog is so sumptuous I don’t fucking care. I suck that thing down my Gullet and my Eyes roll up to the top of my eyelids and my calves tense up as I enjoy, not just a dog, but the finest dog ever, and it is EVERY time. And of all horrors, I have never been drunk when I ordered one, but I know if that situation ever arrived where I had a good drunkness on, AND my little non English speaking, Hot dog loving lady and I ever grunted at each other over the making of my dog, then, watch out. That little Cuban, no English Speaking woman ALWAYS brings me to the height of pleasure EVERYTIME. No worries though, because although I will not call these dogs the Nectar of the Gods. (a friend of mine and I agree that label goes to ALE HOUSE cheese Fries, --Shout out here to Ms. Cuban on this!) I will call them “the dogs of Zeus.” They are the metaphoric Lightning bolt striking your taste buds with the most perfect of perfection that is a Hot dog. I so LOVE this about my life right now. Sure, I may be going through a horrendous divorce with all kinds of snakes being snuck into my sleeping quarters while I am trying to be loving and concerned, but I
have my “Zeus Dogs” and I can assure you this, I worship those guys and my relationship with them. I am not afraid to say it, but I love these particular hot dogs. They are my mistress, they are my friend.

From The Miami Herald

As I am reading the Miami Herald today I see a quote attributed to me. Now I know I didn’t talk to that reporter and I would have no idea about what was being reported regarding School Board Employees getting the use of cars and $100,000.00 a year salaries. Turns out, there is another fellow that lives in Miami that also has my name. He is my Father, and he got quoted today in the Miami Herald. He was the expert that saw nothing wrong with the amount of free Cars and hookers and crack that goes on over at the School Board.
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Ok, maybe he was unaware of the Hookers and Crack and stuff, and that wasn’t even reported by the Miami Herald, AND, I just made that part up, Completely, I get that. Still, it does seem like with Elliot Spitzer just recently…. Ok, whatever…
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Its always cool to see your name in the paper, even if its technically not your name. He is the Jr. I am the Third. I am like him, but you know, completely different. Its like he is the God-Father and I am the God-Father part two. A great sequel, but nonetheless, a sequel. There is another movie, perhaps you heard of it, SCARFACE, In this movie, Tony Montana tells them: " I always tell the truth, even when I lie." for some reason I am reminded of that movie while writing this post, maybe because I lied so bad about the Hookers and crack, and then IMMEDIATELY told the truth? I am not sure that is what he meant, but now I am digressing. -

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Also, and this is me talking, not him, Any organization that has less then 1 percent of the population making 100k a year is either a mom and pop thing, or a hugely flat organization. But at 400 employees making that kind of cake, and 50,0000 total employees, that’s only .008. If I am in the 99.992 percent NOT making the 100 k a year cabbage, I look up to that tiny group as a place for me to get to someday, and I strive. That’s just me. I would also like to have a credit card for the hookers and free cars and stuff. You think the School board is hiring? Also, I would like to thank a teacher for teaching me how to read through an article and pick out the bullshit in a critical manner, just like I am calling out the teachers who are calling bullshit on this stuff. Yes you deserve more money, and Yes you are probably underpaid, but that doesn't mean this 8/1000ths of a percent is taking your jack. It just means you guys are being petty... So here is to you Ms Trammel. You ROCK: http://www.miamiherald.com/top_stories/story/467696.html

Things that are AWESOME

THIS IS AWESOME! College Gameday is coming to the ORANGE and BLUE GAME!! See you there, Saturday April 12th...Get your Popcorn ready.....

Rainbow Eating, Butterfly Pooping Ponys

"Wherever you go, there you are:" --- Buckaroo Bonzai
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There is a character in the movie Horton Hears a Who, that tells Horton about a little world she has, on a flower she picked. In this world, she says: "Every one's a pony, and they eat rainbows and poop butterflies." My Daughter loves this line.

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My world is exactly like that. Except completely different. Instead of rainbow eating, butterfly pooping ponys, Mine is filled with good and evil, right and wrong, meanness and kindness, joy and sorrow, friendship and loneliness. There are all kinds of shades of grey between the extremes, but in this world, I love my kids, and I can say that line about the butterfly pooping ponys, and my daughter laughs.

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Its back to Miami today, In this special world, there is tons of excitement, things to do, and stuff that is even more bizarre then the rainbow eating, butterfly pooping, pony world that so amuses my eldest. In fact, I just read about a South Florida couple that got in a little spat, so the wife tried to run over her husband with the family van. Before she did so, She strapped her child into the baby seat, Kind of odd? She put her kid in the car while she tried to kill her husband with it? and that she had the presence of mind to put the kid in a safety seat in the middle of what was no doubt a pretty intense rage? If I could have had a ticket to watch that, or a chance to see a Rainbow eating, butterfly pooping pony, I think As TO might say, I am "getting the popcorn ready" and watching the crazy lady.

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Today is filled with another 5.5 hours of messing with my lower back. I'm just really glad its such an exciting drive with all kinds of scenery and its not filled with pretty much the same view the whole way down this long ass peninsula. In the Flintstones cartoon, if Barney did something Fred didn't like, Fred might chase Mr. Rubble, and if they were in someones house when this chase was going on, The background would consist of this one couch underneath a window. As Fred was running, that background scene would pass by at least 15 times. I always thought they must of had a really weird layout in their home, but it turns out, they just lived in Florida.

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I enjoy living in Miami, I just miss living in Gainesville more. I like being single again, I just miss the married life more. Life's a bitch and then you die. In between though, you live as much as you can, and that's part of what I am trying to do when I come up and see my kids. They tell me how odd it is to live in Gainesville and stay in a hotel in the same city. I tell them how odd it is to live without them being around.

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There is a rhythm to everything, and I am trying to figure out what my life's rhythm is. Part of the going away is the thought of coming back. Part of the loneliness is the joy in seeing my friends and family on these weekends, even if I do suck at Softball lately.

332 miles and Burger King for lunch

Lots of middle class, college educated guys travel for their jobs. I travel for my personal life as well. Today is a travelling day. I am going to see my kids. To get there, I have to go North, but by the time I arrive, I will end up in the South. Miami might look like it's in the south to a casual observer, but it isn't the South, its just "Miami." Its a Major American City with Latin and European influences. Gainesville is located in Florida but is allot like Southern Georgia.

If Florida was a person, I live on the Left Ankle. My kids and their mother live where the heart would be, and in that analogy, my heart is also with them. I used to live in Gainesville and commute to the Miami, Ft Lauderdale, West Palm area for my job, so I am familiar with this haul . For half of 2007 I did it twice a week, every week. I know stuff about this drive normal people shouldn't. I live at exit 2. At exit 87, I will get off I-95, and hop on the turnpike. To Get from I-95 to the turnpike you have to drive about half a mile. Once you are on the Turnpike though, at that point, you are at Mile Marker 116. Its one of the greatest points on my journey because it feels like you just picked up 29 miles yet doing so by only driving for a half mile. WHOOOHOOOO...At Mile Marker 152 there is a rest stop that I usually stop at. Isn't that crazy? I have a favorite "rest stop" No one does that, but I would argue about my rest stop with anyone, It would be like a Nole fan and a Gator fan on Game day. "Dude, Drew Weatherford is so freaking average" Oh yeah? "well your favorite rest stop is inconvenient to get to, and they don't have people selling fruit out in front of yours! Oh yeah and another thing, reststopness has passed your station attendent by, they are just going senile and now all the assistant attendants are really running the show anyways?" See what I mean? But I think I may be the only person in the world that has a favorite rest stop. Sure I go to other rest stops, just like I watch other football besides the Gators, but that one is my favorite.

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As you head on up the turnpike, you reach the end, or the beginning of that road, whichever your perspective on it is, at mile marker 305. This is another Magic feel good moment, because as you merge on to I-75 you are now on Mile Marker 329. Its 24 miles you pick up just like that! It's like Freaking TIME travel I tell you, normally you just shouldn't know this stuff, but its worse, I know which rest stops have the men's facility on the northbound side and which are on the southbound side.

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Mile Marker 387 is my exit in Gainesville. 332 miles will be driven. I have a new book on tape this time so that's a plus. My back is ok right now, later this evening though it will have that twinge from sitting in that car all day. It looks kind of nice out so I think the top will be coming down. I get to play a little Softball tonight with my boys so its pretty clear to me that I will be LIVING....Next time I post I will be in the South again, signed, your time travelling friend, Bill From Gainesville.

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Post script: a couple of things: 1) I love Bobby Bowden and while it is true his assistants are the ones cleaning all the facilities lately, the man is a legend and I respect him allot. I don't wish him any ill will. 2) Also, I realize its not magic time travel on a conscious level, but I don't care I think of it like that anyways....

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Change

Change is the law of life and those who look only to the past or the present are certain to miss the future. ---- John Fitzgerald Kennedy.

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Over the past year I have seen this law he speaks of, up close and personal. At this time last year I still hadn't envisioned not living in Gainesville, but as I post this I am doing it from Downtown Miami. That's just one of the things that have changed recently. This post though, is about another possible change, much less significant but a change to deal with anyways.
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Don't know if JFK foresaw this, but when I look into my future, some of that vision includes me tailgating on a beautiful hot ass Autumn day out by the Bell Tower with my friends: Mark Cuban Jr,---- he and his wife with the Fluffy ass Attack towels, as well as Wayne Huizenga Jr. -- He of the beleaguered one win sporting franchise that may not say Dolphins on the chest, but does have the name of his electric company, screen printed in green. There will be guys with vacuum cleaner names, others that rhyme with Row. Sometimes guys that could care less, whose last names make up a favorite beverage of mine will make the trip.
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My future will include me travelling to exotic cities, like Baton Rouge with a little hangover stop by, in New Orleans. It will see me in Knoxville again, and Columbia for my virgin time. It will see me in Jacksonville Florida as 1 / 85,000th of a cocktail party. It will hopefully hear me singing "its Great to be a Florida Gator" as I twist down the exit ramps of Doak Campbell stadium. Its a very hard thing to do, go into Doak and walk out all happy and singing and stuff, I have done it a few times already. I appreciate how very special that is and would never take it for granted.
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I know that in life, you have to give yourself a chance, you have to ask the pretty girl and face the possibility of rejection. The loneliness of not asking, is not worth the face saving maneuver of not dancing at all. You can't sit on the beach all day drinking rum and cokes,... unless you get down there in the morning. Florida Football took me in as a kid. My third grade teacher was Alan Trammels wife. Alan Trammel played D.B. in the early 70's. The first game I ever went to was the Tie in the 0-10-1 season against Ga Tech. She has always been a constant for me in the fall, She has never ever turned her back on me. When I asked her, she was unequivocal in her reply of YES. I have owned season Tickets since 96, This year I will not, and that is the change.

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I hope to keep them in the family though and will see how that turns out. there are circumstances here that may end up shutting us out, but that doesn't mean we wont still be in those stands. Gator football asks that when I visit her in person that I have a ticket. but she doesn't care if they are season passes or of the scalped variety.
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Its 5:30 in the morning, I JUST DON'T CARE....

I did not own a cell phone until April of 2007. Prior to that, my company provided me with one that they also paid for. This is the very best way to have a cell phone. When I left that job, and no longer had a phone, I went down to the Sprint Store, spoke with Herbie the sales guy, and begged him to set me up with something, wherein I would have a phone I could carry around in my pocket, and his company would send me a bill every month. We mutually transacted, and that's pretty much what has been going on for the last 11 months or so.

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It hasn't been completely as we agreed to though. This morning, at around 5:30 or so, I received a Text Message on my phone from some kind of Porn site. They wanted to wake me up, to point out that apparently, if I go to a certain website I can see a " seexy teen give hand job" That is their spelling of the word Sexy. I was gonna text back and point out that they have one to many "e"s ' in the word sexy but then it got me thinking, and I got distracted. Since I have owned this phone I have randomly received the occasional tip, via text message, regarding various porn things I can go and see. I did not sign up for this service, so I thought, Maybe I should call Herbie and see what he says. It could be he gets some kind of extra commission or something and he just included it, and as I have unlimited text messaging it doesn't cost me extra or anything? He saw me as a guy who likes naked women as much as the next fellow, so he just gave my number to whatever this porn site is, and every time I get a text, Herbie the salesman gets 12 cents or something. That would make me feel ok about it. Maybe he could even talk with them and ask them not to send the messages at 5:30 in the morning out of respect for me?

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Back when I had that really cool cell phone that I didn't have to personally pay for, I NEVER received tips on where I could see a "SEEXY TEEN GIVE HAND JOB" - In the big scheme of things, weighing out both options, I prefer a free cell phone to a cell phone that comes with tips on where I can go and see porn. If it meant I would no longer get text messages at 5:30 in the morning that serve to make me aware of various handjob's that are being given by SEEXY TEENS, but I wouldn't have to pay for the usage of the phone itself? I am giving up the tips.

I have never accessed the Internet at all on my cell phone, much less a porn site, so its not like I went there first or something and they are just sending me follow up. Don't get me wrong. Porn has its place, in DVD's and through my laptop and stuff, I am not ANTI porn at all. I just don't think that place is on my phone. And I know its not at 5:30 in the morning on a Tuesday. And I also know good porn doesn't have to be accompanied by poor spelling.

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The Morbidity and Mortality Conference

She's dead, She came in on a Friday afternoon all full of hope and swagger and I think at some point, early in the morning on Monday, you just have to face up to the fact the weekend is gone. Its the re-birth of the work week. Soon enough the very real business of earning a living will once again be upon us, but for now, lets evaluate the causes and minutia of what was.

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As most weekends do, they start after work on Fridays. Sure there is the occasional four day weekend, The special holiday weekends, The grandaddy weekend of them all, that Thanksgiving weekend that usually starts on Wednesday afternoon, but this was a regular one and it began on Friday.

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My nostalgic look back on it, saw it begin with some wine. Generally most weekends have that Friday Afternoon Draft beer feel to it, not this one, this one came in with the red Grapes. I have always been a fan of the First Beer on a Friday Afternoon. Its special, it just tastes better. It has all the things any other beer has, the barley and the yeast and hops. It also has the possibilities of what can be. It will work the same for Wine though, the glasses you have then are just a little more refined, a little more grapey as they say. To be honest I had maybe just a little to much wine that day, but I didn't stay out, I put my flirt in with the Brazilian, and I went home and watched a rented movie. I would tell you what movie it was, but its kind of Gay that a grown man rented it, so lets just say it was a little chick flicky and leave it at that. (not that there is anything wrong with that) *

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Saturday came next. This part of her is often considered the meat of the thing. Its when she stretches out and kind of says to the world, "World, Its Saturday, the MEAT of the weekend" See how she says that? I told you it was the "meat" of the thing. --- I was a little depressed though, so I don't think I made the best of this part of the weekend. I fight loneliness all the time, living in this new city, not really knowing anyone - partly I do it by being "out", but like Seinfeld says: you also have to be "in" sometimes and my Saturday had allot of "in" I watched a silly movie pretty much from start to finish in the afternoon. It had Amanda Peet in it, but I never did catch the name of it. Its a regret about this weekend that I will suffer through maybe forever, or at least until TBS runs it again and I pay attention. Maybe I can describe it a little bit, and our morbidity and mortality conference on the weekend can come up with some answers. Amanda Peet is dating this dweeby little guy and trys to isolate him from his buddies. His buddies understand she is controlling and dominating, so they try to break them up. Part of their plan is to kidnap Amanda Peet's character and then fake her death, then set up their buddy with an old high school girlfriend, before she becomes a nun. Any help? the dweeby guy is an actor that is best known for his roll in the movie American Pie. But I digress.

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The Saturday Evening part of the weekend, saw me mosey on over to Bayside Park. (a mosey is a very leisurely type of pace) Had dinner and watched some street performers. This couple was playing with fire, and juggling daggers. You just don't see that everyday. At one point they had six daggers flying around between the two of them, Each with the precision flip in the air so that they catch the handles and not the blade part of the things. They did more, but it really is a visual type of thing and reading about it wont do it justice. Then I came back "in" and watched a movie I rented called: "Babel" I promise you, if all you get out of reading this post is the knowledge to save your money and not rent this thing then I have contributed to the world by letting you know .... It was horrible.

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Sunday was really a great day, This was the part of this particular weekend that loved me the most. It was when the weekend and I really came together and began understanding each other. We laughed , we cried, we were very zen about the day together and it will be our fondest memory of what was. After reading the paper and drinking the Sunday morning Starbucks, I hopped on that train that runs through my building and went on over to Calle Ocho. Me and 1.4 million other people. I walked approximately 54 blocks in all, and saw all kinds of craziness. Glenn Rice, the former Miami Heat star, was signing autographs up by 27th street in a booth sponsored by Kia. They had all these "Kia" girls with skimpy little jump suits on ,and some of them had bikinis and paint...PAINT as clothes, its not just a concept you see in Sports illustrated's swimsuit edition anymore, it is going main stream. (to the extent that a street festival celebrating Latin American diversity in the heart of Little Havana is mainstream) Something else I saw that amazed me was lines that stretched out for incredibly long distances, simply to get some free stuff. Calle Ocho is a street party with all kinds of different musical performances spread out over 27 blocks or so. It is also big business and there is tons of little booths marketing to the people and part of that included crappy little minutia. Colgate had a booth, and had I chosen too, I am pretty sure I could have got some free toothpaste, I chose not to wait in the line though, luckily You can also buy toothpaste at a store for less then three bucks. Standing in a line that wraps around and around in the hot sun for a free tube, just didn't work out in my head as being worth the three bucks. but that was just me, and as the line attested, many others did the economic math and said what the hell, let me get some free Colgate.

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On the way back I passed by one of my new favorite bars: "Finnegan's on the River" this is a bar that is located on the Miami River. True fact, the river and the city are both named Miami. The city stole it from the river though, at least that's the story I am going with. The river was here first, And the city came next, but I don't think the river feels bad about it at all, Its like myself in that regard. My dad and I have the same name. I feel honored, not bad about that. Its the same thing with the river and the city. Its also like the Georgia Bulldogs, Grambling, and the Green Bay Packers, they all have that same "G" on the side of their helmets but they all seem to get along together and send each other those silly little Christmas letters in December.

I met some characters at this bar that day. Two bisexual women, a punk rock chef and a comedian dry cleaner dude. I can tell you this, WE DID NOT BUY A BOAT TOGETHER. Its not often though that you run into a group like that and contemplate it as much as we did. Its all over now. A little Simpsons, some King of the hill. fall asleep in the lazy boy that's how it ended. They usually do end up dying that last death with me in the lazy boy watching cartoons. There is a rhythm to life though, and a new weekend will be born in about five days.

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* - At the point where I say (not that there is anything wrong with that) I assume it is common cultural phenomenon to understand I am quoting an episode of Seinfeld .. and no, I did not credit Seinfeld in the post, but am also clearly not trying to claim the line as mine. Its just funny to say stuff about gayness, and then say (not that there is anything wrong with that)