As Seen in Indiana

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2011-12-10T08:27:00.000-05:00

[Um, why has my template broken? Begone, lines and corners where they should not be!]

NaNoWriMo ended up being a bust, no surprise. I took down two of the three posts because they were long and unwieldy. The third stays up because it's amusing and also contains the Tully Monsters roster (may they never be forgotten!).

But this week I've been rather productive. We had a potluck at work, which was a lovely excuse for me to try something new with cupcakes.

I made my own buttercream frosting instead of grabbing a can of Betty Crocker frosting at the store. It was fantastic. I decided to use a couple drops of peppermint oil for flavoring, and here's where it became clear that my common sense was running about 20 seconds behind my motor skills. A bit of oil had landed on my finger, so I tasted it. It was, indeed, pepperminty. Very pepperminty. Extremely pepperminty. Pepperminty to the point that the only thing I could taste for the next 45 minutes was peppermint, no matter what the item's actual flavor was.

I did this before checking the flavor of the buttercream to see whether it was too minty or not minty enough. Magna cum laude at work, folks.

Fortunately, two drops of peppermint oil was just the right amount, and the frosting was a raving success.

Piping white chocolate for the snowflakes was a bit of a pain, but they turned out all right. After several snowflake arms broke off while I peeled them from the wax paper, I learned the lesson and stood outside in the winter cold to peel the second batch. Success with delicate, easily melted chocolate figures is so much easier when I don't have a warm kitchen plus warm fingers working against me.

Stick the snowflakes in the frosting, add a touch of powdered sugar, et voila, pretty and tasty treats.

My other accomplishment for the week:

As soon as VistaPrint's shirts go on sale again, this will be mine. I may go broke creating my own custom hockey shirts, but the process may also force me to become somewhat competent in Adobe Illustrator after six years of failure and gnashing of teeth.

Three Games in Three Nights - 3

2011-11-03T21:52:00.000-04:00

[Notes: This is NaNoWriMo. ... This installment isn't in chronological order. I decided to fill out rosters today because that would get me about 600 words. Easy, right? Hah. Apparently I can't just throw names and numbers together; I have to have interesting names and line combinations that make sense. Once I got the rosters set, I wrote up a scene from the Friday night home game. Rosters are at the bottom of the post.]

As the linesman indicated that the next faceoff would be at the dot just to the left of where they were sitting, Jake leaned across the empty seat. “Does your brother ever let the crowd get to him?”

The sister grinned. “He says that during the games it's mostly just a bunch of noise, but if someone's loud enough he can sometimes figure out what they're yelling.”

“That's perfect,” Jake said, tapping his fingers on his knees. The buzz of the crowd had faded to a murmur during the stoppage, and someone had decided not to play a snippet of music during the break.

In ones and twos, the players started to trickle over to the faceoff circle. The wingers and defensemen paired up on either side, with Harris and his Reaper counterpart facing the crowd. When the centers squared up at the hash marks, Jake cupped his hands around his mouth and let out a roar.

“Hey, Tony Harris!” The centers began to put their sticks down to take the faceoff. “I'm sitting next to your sister. She's hot!” Coming from barely 10 rows above the ice in a quiet arena, and with a voice accustomed to shouting across a home improvement warehouse, his chirp boomed.

Harris' head popped up like it had been pulled on a string. He had seen earlier where his family was sitting, and his eyes seemed to instantly lock onto the smirking Jake. At the same moment, the linesman dropped the puck. The forwards scrambled for it, and the Reapers' Haynesworth shoved it back to his right winger. Boston Mike, unencumbered by the momentarily distracted Harris, carried it toward the slot. The IceCutters' defenseman realized his blunder and scrambled to make up for it. But now Boston Mike was closer to the boards than the center, and as defenseman approached he dished the puck back to Haynesworth directly in front of the goalie. The forward fired a blast, and Harris proved to be an effective screen as the puck rocketed between the netminder's skates and popped into the back of the net.

The goal judge flicked on the red light above the glass, the goal horn thundered and most of the thousands of fans in the crowd rose to their feet, cheering and clapping, as Haynesworth dropped to one knee and did a fist pump. Baseball caps began to fall on the ice like a multicolored snow flurry as the fans congratulated their player on his third goal of the game, a hat trick.

In the stands, Jake was getting high fives from the happy drunks in the row in front of him while many others nearby laughed, including Tony Harris' sister. “That was just terrible!” she said, her southern drawl heavy in every syllable. Tony Harris' brother looked much less amused.

“That's hockey,” Jake replied, sitting down. “I couldn't pull that off again if I tried. That was a beauty.”

The goal song segued into the Beatles, and once more the crowd serenaded Schneider. “Naaaa, na na, na na na na, na na na naaaa, HEY JUDE!”

With the video replaying on the scoreboard, the public address announcer marked the official scoring. “It's another Riverton Reapers goal! His 14^th of the season and third goal of the game, scored by number 29, Carter Haynesworth! Assisting on the goal, number 15, Mike Wagner! Time of the goal: 10 minutes, 2 seconds. Reaper goal scored by 29 Haynesworth, assist 15 Wagner, at 10:02.”

“And the other apple goes to number 88, Jake Parrish!” Jake shouted, pumping his arms into the air. This brought another round of cheers from the fans sitting near them. He waved. “Thank you, thank you. Number 88 in your programs, number one in your hearts. I'll be here all season.”

But in addition to the Harris group, someone else was not celebrating the 5-1 lead. In the seat to Jake's right, Jenna sat with her arms crossed and scowl on her face. When he leaned forward to talk to the happy drunks, she stood and headed for the aisle. Gabe and Corinn exchanged glances, and she followed Jenna out to the concourse. They had the area mostly to themselves. A few people were returning to their seats from visits to the bathrooms or ordering what passed for food at one of the concession vendors.

Jenna stopped abruptly and turned on her heel. “I can't believe he's flirting with someone else right in front of me.”

Corinn's eyebrows furrowed. “What are you talking about?” She was used to Jenna's jealous streak, but she was having trouble seeing what prompted it this time.

“That girl next to him. He's been flirting with her all night, and now he's showing off.” Jenna rolled her eyes and shook her head. “She's probably not even that guy's sister.”

“I don't think taunting a player into making a mistake is really flirting,” Corinn said. She wasn't surprised that Jenna was overreacting. “He's just having fun.”

“I don't like it.”

“He's having fun at the game. That's just what you do here. You talk to the people around you, come up with jeers. It's all part of the fun.” She paused, trying to think of an example Jake would come up with. “If that had been the guy's brother sitting next to him, he probably would have yelled something like, 'Your brother says you're terrible,' or something like that.”

Jenna sighed and still looked agitated. “Maybe. But I think he should stop talking to her.” She pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. In the arena, the crowd noise swelled as the play intesified.

“It's harmless,” Corinn said, beginning to turn back toward the section entrance. “Come on, worrying like this is no way to start a weekend.”

Jenna shook her head slightly and said nothing, but followed. An usher in a blue jacket blocked their way and held up a small laminated paper that read, “Do not enter until play is stopped.” They waited for about a minute for a linesman to whistle an offside call, then they were allowed to return to their seats.

“Everything OK?” Gabe quietly asked Corinn after she sat down.

“Oh, just the usual,” she answered. He inclined his head in understanding.

***

Riverton Reapers

10 Mike Pallardy RW 6-1 200 06/11/85 Boston, Massachusetts

15 Michael Wagner LW 6-3 215 08/24/81 Embrun, Minnesota

21 Bryan Mudgrass C 5-10 175 02/10/84 Kelowna, British Columbia

29 Carter Haynesworth C 6-2 220 01/13/86 Duluth, Minnesota

41 Brandon Kruger RW 6-1 215 06/15/82 Speedway, Indiana

44 Marcus Rycroft LW 6-0 185 10/27/85 Kanata, Ontario

55 Derek Panetta C 6-4 200 07/23/81 Calgary, Alberta

57 Curtis Holmes LW 6-0 205 07/02/83 Oakville, Wisconsin

61 Fryderyk Marakovski RW 6-0 190 04/25/89 Gdansk, Poland

64 Roger Myers FC 6-1 195 03/11/82 St. John's, Newfoundland

71 Chris Slusher FRW 5-11 185 02/03/86 Point Pleasant, New Jersey

4 Sebastien Norrington D 5-11 200 04/26/81 Bel Air, Maryland

7 Shane Hessler D 6-0 215 07/09/82 New Brighton, Minnesota

8 Bobby Gasper D 5-8 175 07/19/84 Kamloops, British Columbia

14 Keith Robertson D 5-11 195 04/13/87 Akwesasne, New York

23 Luke Brown D 6-1 185 10/04/83 Thunder Bay, Ontario

27 Martin Alloy D 6-2 220 05/20/74 Missasauga, Ontario

39 Mark Birnie D 6-3 215 10/10/80 Grand Forks, North Dakota

33 Danny Geoffredo G 5-10 165 01/01/85 Albuquerque, New Mexico

31 Sam Knetchal G 6-1 190 12/08/82 Solsgirth,Manitoba

Head coach: Pat Tillman

Assistant coach: Gary Fleming

Trainer: Anders Oldfather

Lakehaven IceCutters

5 Corey Ramirez C 5-11 180 09/22/81 San Diego, California

6 Alexander Kurodevev LW 6-1 200 07/06/80 Moscow, Russia

7 Ben DiCarlo RW 5-11 185 08/30/88 Toldeo, Ohio

9 Morgan O'Brien C 6-8 257 06/16/83 Galahad, Alberta

10 Nicholas Miller RW 6-3 225 08/02/82 Huntsville, Alabama

11 Thomas Baker LW 6-1 185 12/29/83 North Bay, Ontario

12 Scott Vandenfeld C 5-11 190 04/13/87 Cornwall, Ontario

15 Brett Sanderson LW 5-11 185 01/08/85 Dry Creek, Texas

17 Robbie Stubel RW 6-0 195 10/08/86 Highland, Michigan

20 Ed Theomantopolos F 5-11 175 04/06/80 Livonia, Michigan

21 William Genovy F 6-0 220 11/21/84 Madison, Wisconsin

22 Anthony Harris D 5-11 180 08/12/81 Knoxville, Tennessee

23 Travis Bonecutter D 5-11 195 03/17/86 Portage La Prairie, Manitoba

24 Aaron Johansson D 6-3 225 09/06/79 Orleans, Ontario

32 Collin Stewart D 6-2 185 09/26/85 Cornwall, Ontario

39 Craig Gallaway D 6-0 200 05/11/83 Troy, Michigan

42 Erich Bazin D 6-1 210 06/28/84 Concord, Minnesota

84 Nick Kuqali D 5-11 180 01/27/82 Vanderhoof, British Columbia

33 Jude Schneider G 6-2 210 08/18/81 Kingston, Ontario

38 Nathaniel Jones G 5-11 185 08/19/85 Chesterfield, Missouri

Head coach: James Cornwell

Assistant coach: Terry Wise

Trainer: Russ Greenberg

Stirling Tully Monsters

1 Edgar Swamp C 5-10 190 12/04/82 Beausejour, Manitoba

2 Andrew Bruce LW 5-11 190 04/13/81 Guelph, Ontario

4 Brent Tennyson RW 6-1 225 07/06/79 La Habra, California

5 Jeff Byrd C 6-1 190 04/20/88 Cornwall, Ontario

7 Jeremy Shore LW 6-2 190 02/25/82 Monroe, Washington

15 Glen Stockdale RW 6-2 205 10/14/74 Grand Blanc, Michigan

18 Roman Vitek C 6-1 190 07/13/82 Zvolen, Slovakia

21 Mat Pryde LW 6-0 205 03/01/85 Hawkesbury, Michigan

27 Faisal Nahan RW 5-11 185 11/06/81 Mississauga, Ontario

29 Jason Schwartz F 6-0 190 01/30/86 Winchester, Pennsylvania

31 Jean Talbot F 5-10 175 02/10/89 London, Ontario

37 Maxim Lavoie D 6-1 190 10/23/84 Montreal, Quebec

42 Sean Cole D 5-11 200 07/12/86 Niagara Falls, Ontario

55 Brian Legace D 6-1 200 11/22/86 Winthrop, Nova Scotia

64 Casey Pearson D 6-0 190 06/10/86 Peoria, Illinois

71 Cody Jones D 6-1 185 12/09/85 Canton, Massachusetts

79 Jimmy Bain D 6-4 230 07/30/84 Rochester, New York

88 Justin Campbell D 5-10 175 09/19/89 Vancouver, British Columbia

35 Adam Fensil G 6-0 200 11/11/87 Beaverlodge, Alberta

33 Dan Trevisano G 6-1 170 12/04/82 Kalamazoo, Michigan

Head coach: Jay Snell

Assistant coach: Keith Ramsay

Trainer: Al Morrison

Drop the puck

2011-10-21T18:20:00.005-04:00

Tonight almost feels like Christmas Eve. Tomorrow the Fort Wayne Komets drop the puck on their 60th anniversary season, and it's going to be one heck of an evening. Celebrations. Ceremony. Familiar faces in orange and familiar faces now in some other team's colors. New jersey numbers to learn. Friends who I see only on game nights dotted throughout the arena.

It's the start of a six-month journey, one that follows no script. I may have 33 tickets for another frustrating season or for one that keeps me on the edge of my seat from October through April. How exciting to watch it all unfold.

I don't remember my first Komets game. Family legend says I went to a game before I was even born, but the first ticket stub I have dates back to Dec. 12, 1997. The ink has nearly faded away, but I can still decipher Fort Wayne Komets vs. Indianapolis Ice (boo hiss!). Section 17, Row C, Seat 8. Cost: $13.50

I remember nothing specific about this game, other than someone instilled in me the fact that We Hate The Ice. But it's quite likely that this was the night that I first fell in love with goaltending. Section 17 (now Section 231 after the coliseum renovations) was right behind the netminder, and you could watch the entire play come rushing down the ice only to be stopped by the surprisingly agile man in bulky gear. This section was simply where my family sat for our occasional trips to Fort Wayne: Oct. 31, 1998; Jan. 22, 1999; Nov. 27, 1999; Oct. 27, 2001; Nov. 17, 2001; Nov. 23, 2002 (rechristened as Section 231), and on and on.

My family lived 50 miles from the rink, so a Komets game was a special occasion. I suppose it's not entirely surprising, then, that I can recall strangely specific details for some of these ticket stubs.

Jan. 22, 1999 (vs. Michigan K-Wings, 17-E-6, $14.00): This was my 14th birthday, and I still have the puck that goaltender Bruce Racine picked up with his stick and flipped up to me where I was sitting. I had no idea players even gave away pucks. I just remember for whatever reason calling out “Hey Racine!” as warm-ups ended, not thinking he'd even be able to hear me, and then suddenly seeing a puck come my way. It wasn't until almost a decade later that I learned he had played in the NHL and was on his way down the ranks.
Oct. 27, 2001 (vs. Asheville, 17-C-10, $15.00): My mom and I were at a game and the attendance was announced, somewhere in the 4,000-6,000 range. She said quietly, “Look around. This is about how many people were killed in the World Trade Center.” That was quite a visual. (Of course the 9/11 death toll ended up being lower, but this was just six weeks after.)
Feb. 15, 2004 (vs. Richmond Riverdogs, 218-25-14): By now I was a freshman in college, and our student activities department was distributing free tickets to the game. Free hockey and near-broke college students are a great match. I remember being worried that 218 might be the new nosebleed seats and was pleased to find it was about the middle of the arena. I also remember having to explain the game to fellow classmates who had no idea what was going on.
Oct. 18, 2008 (vs. Flint Generals, 231-10-1, $20.00): This was the home opener after the 2008 championship. Y'know, the one they won in a triple-overtime Game 7 against Port Huron after coming back from a 3-1 series deficit and giving Larry Sterling a meltdown. I went to this game because I was still mad at myself for not going to that Game 7. I had had to work that morning in Fort Wayne and had heard that there were only 1,000 tickets left. I toyed with the idea of going because clearly that was either going to be a playoff win for the ages or an absolute heartbreaker. But my day had started around 4 a.m., I would be done with work by 11, and I had not yet learned the art of how to lurk in town all day. I also didn't want to go home, kill time and then burn another 50 miles of gasoline to make another trip to Fort Wayne in the same day. Practicality won out over OMG-this-will-be-awesome, and I've been kicking myself ever since. So I went to the next home opener, watched Guy Dupuis skate the Turner Cup around home ice under a spotlight to the roar of a sellout crowd and made sure I wouldn't make that mistake again.

I haven't.

Since that home opener I've been to at least 70 home regular-season games, a dozen or so home playoff games and four playoff games on the road. I was there on Halloween night when the Muskegon Lumberjacks came to town and got into a line brawl that lured Brad MacMillan out of the penalty box to drop a series of punches on Jason Lawmaster's head. I was there in Muskegon, too, later that season for the playoffs when hundreds of Komets fans invaded that rink a block from Lake Michigan in hopes that the Komets would sweep the finals and take home the Turner Cup. I was there when Konstantin Shafranov played his last game, scored a couple of goals and was sent home with a standing ovation from the fans and stick taps from his teammates. I was there in Game 5 of the 2010 semifinals when Colin Chaulk hijacked the microphone during 3 Stars and promised the IceHawks as they were leaving the ice, “We'll see you Monday.” I was there in Port Huron for Game 6 when Leo Thomas popped the game-winning goal into the net with two seconds left in the third period. And, yes, I was there Monday.

Those were marvelous days.

I've also been there through a 5-15-1 start, watching my team get shut out 4-0 and embarrassed not only in the home opener but also the next game. Week after week I would look at the conference standings and Fort Wayne would still be in residence at the bottom. Then at last they were one point out of the basement, and I never could have imagined I would be so happy to see them in next-to-last place.

I might not bleed black and orange or have a pedigree that says I was taught to skate by Colin Chin or some other hero of the past. I wasn't around to see the legends first play or the John Anderson game or the ice scraper game or the 1993 championship. I can't even skate.

But y'know what? I saw Guy Dupuis play in 1999 and I saw him play in 2009. I've seen Colin Chaulk carry this team on the ice and watched him give instructions while sitting on the bench between shifts. I've seen Nick Boucher play out of his mind between the pipes and also skate out to the point to play the puck and check a guy into the glass along the way. I remember wooden seats in the coliseum and padded-cushion folding chairs for the expensive seats near the glass. I remember Bruce Racine and Pokey Reddick (and, strangely, Dustin Virag), even if I only saw them once.

I know why Komet is spelled with a “K.”

I also know that life probably won't always be this way and at some point all of this may have to take a backseat to, well, reality and responsibility.

But until then, it's hockey season.

Let's go, Komets.

Tearing apart the Komets schedule

2011-08-15T21:25:00.002-04:00

The Central Hockey League released its 66-game schedule (33 home, 33 away) today, and because I'm a bit of an information nerd, I broke down the Komets' slate.

First and most importantly, the Jan. 20 and 21 games are when you should shower me with gifts since there isn't a home game on my birthday this season.

Second, the Komets face 12 opponents this season.

Dayton: 14 times (7 home, 7 away)

1st game Nov. 8 away, last game Mar. 25 at home

Evansville: 13 times (6 home, 7 away)

1st game Oct. 22 at home, last game Mar. 10 at home

Bloomington: 11 times (6 home, 5 away)

1st game Nov. 24 at home, last game Feb. 29 at home

Quad City: 9 times (4 home, 5 away)

1st game Nov. 6 at home, last game Mar. 2 away

Rapid City: 5 times (1 home, 4 away)

1st game Nov. 4 at home, last game Dec. 3 away

Arizona: 3 times (1 home, 2 away)

1st game Jan. 27 away, last game Feb. 24 at home

Tulsa: 3 times (2 home, 1 away)

1st game Jan. 20 at home, last game Feb. 21 away

Laredo: 2 times (both at home)

Mar. 16-17

Missouri: 2 times (1 home, 1 away)

1st game Dec. 29 at home, last game Jan. 15 away

Wichita: 2 times (1 home, 1 away)

1st game Dec. 13 away, last game Mar. 4 at home

Allen: 1 time (home)

Feb. 18

Texas: 1 time (home)

Dec. 21

They play more than half the season against Dayton, Evansville and Bloomington (38 games). Ugh. Rio Grande Valley is the only team they do not play. Tulsa, Laredo, Allen and Texas will make their first appearances in Fort Wayne.

I'm rather disappointed that Rapid City and Wichita visit Fort Wayne only once. The Komets were starting to build a bit of a rivalry with both, and this setup doesn't seem to do much to add to it. Komets fans travel well, but a 17-hour road trip to South Dakota is more than most of us are willing to try. Driving to Kansas isn't any better. Another letdown is having just two games against Missouri. The Mavericks are my guilty-pleasure team, even without Robby Nolan in net. I guess I'll just have to keep up with them via a photographer on Flickr.

Games by month

October: 2 games (both at home)
November: 12 games (5 home, 7 away)
December: 14 games (7 home, 7 away)
January: 12 games (5 home, 7 away)
February: 15 games (6 home, 9 away)
March: 11 games (8 home, 3 away)

3 games in 3 nights: 11 times (3 straight weekends in January)
4 games in 5 nights: 6 times
Longest stretch between games: 1 week

I'm looking forward to the eight home games in March because at that point there should be plenty of end-of-season drama in the standings. Of the 11 games total, eight of them are against conference opponents, so there's 16 points up for grabs.

On the road again
The Komets have three stretches that could get hectic for travel.

They're at home Nov. 24, Thanksgiving night, and immediately leave for Quad City (Nov. 25), then get on the bus again and cross two states to get to Dayton (Nov. 26). They have just enough time to recover from that before going up to Rapid City (Dec. 2-3).
A long trip out starts after the Jan. 13 game at home. They head to Evansville on Jan. 14 and continue down the Interstate to Missouri on Jan. 15.
One busy stretch of four games in four nights has them at home Feb. 17-18, traveling to Bloomington Feb. 19 and then making the long jump out to Tulsa for a game Feb. 21. Actually, that stretch is going to turn into 8 games in 12 nights by the end of the month. Ugh.

On the fan side of things, want to get away from the coliseum for an evening and check out some other team's barn? Here are a few weekends that are jam-packed with hockey with a short road trip.

2 in 2: Feb. 24-25 -- Home, Evansville (Fri/Sat)
3 in 3: Nov. 4-6 -- Home, Evansville, home
3 in 3: Dec. 29-31 -- Home, Evansville, home (New Year's Eve)
3 in 3: Jan. 6-8 -- Home, Dayton, home
3 in 3: Mar. 23-25 -- Home, Dayton, home (awards night)

Hockey Night in Fort Wayne playlist

2011-08-09T15:37:00.002-04:00

I have an hour's drive to work every morning, so my iPod gets a lot of use. Lately I've been mentioning on Facebook what CD I listened to. Today I said I was taking my Komets hockey night playlist for a test run to see whether it would match the length of the drive to games. (It's about three songs short.)

Of course, someone replied wanting to know what all was on the playlist. So, here it is in its current incarnation. It'll likely change throughout the season when I have a hankering for a particular song or hear something new that needs to be added.

2011-2012 game-night playlist
Right Now -- Van Halen
Sabre Dance*
Swords of a Thousand Men -- Tenpole Tudor (so delightfully cheesy)*
Hockey Night in Canada Theme (old version)
National anthems by Jim Cornelison (live, Chicago)**
O Canada (live, Edmonton crowd)
Boom -- P.O.D.
Ready to Die -- Andrew W.K.
Fight on the Ice -- The Zambonis
Barra Barra -- Rachid Taha
Blackhawks goal horn**
Rock el Casbah -- Rachid Taha
How do you like me now -- The Heavy (otherwise known as The Short-Handed Goal Gloating Song)
Die Trying -- Art of Dying
One Win Away (Luongo Weeps Tonight) -- Danny Mac Parody Songs/CBS**
Five Dollar Fine (for Whining) -- Chris LeDoux (otherwise known as Things We Tell the Rapid City Rush)

*Buffalo Sabres-inspired track
**Chicago Blackhawks-inspired track

The hour-long playlist is taken from a larger library of hockey-related songs compiled over the last 10 years or so. Some songs are directly related to the game, others are often heard on game night, and some are just audio yanked from various sources because it amuses me.

Hockey night library
Authority Song -- John Mellencamp
Avalanche -- The Zambonis
Away Game -- The Zambonis
Barra Barra -- Rachid Taha
Bob Marley and The Hartford Whalers -- The Zambonis
Bodies Hit Floor -- Drowning Pool
Boom -- P.O.D.
Brass Bonanza -- Hartford Whalers
Breakaway -- The Zambonis
Cha Cha Slide (short) -- DJ Casper
The Chance May Never Come Again -- Hockey Night in Canada Stanley Cup montage theme
Chelsea Dagger -- The Fratellis (Blackhawks)
Chicago Blackhawks goal horn (Blackhawks)
Concussion -- The Zambonis
Cotton Eye Joe
Davey Hatrick -- The Zambonis
Die Trying -- Art of Dying
The Distance -- Cake
Don't Stop Believing (with Red Wings fans) -- Journey (Red Wings)
Enter Sandman -- Metallica
Feels Like '93 -- Annakin Slayd (Canadiens)
Fifty-Mission Cap -- The Tragically Hip (Maple Leafs)
Fight on the Ice -- The Zambonis
The Final Countdown Remix 2000
French Canadian Guy -- Pittsburgh radio WDVE (Penguins)
The Goalie is Drunk -- The Zambonis
Happy When We're Winning (Live) -- The Zambonis
Hats off to Larry (Sterling) (Komets game-night audio)
Helmet Head -- Great Big Sea (good advice from the Casanova of the AHL)
Hextall -- The Zambonis
Hit Somebody -- Warron Zevon
Hockey Monkey -- The Zambonis
Hockey Night in Canada Theme
The Hockey Song -- Stompin' Tom Connors
Hot Mess -- Cobra Starship (Drunk Patrick Kane remix) (Blackhawks)
How do you like me now -- The Heavy
I'm Shipping up to Boston -- Dropkick Murphys
I Am Canadian -- Molson
I Gotta Feeling -- Black Eyed Peas
I Wanna Drive the Zamboni -- The Zambonis
Johnny Got Suspended -- The Zambonis
Keep Your Head in the Game -- The Zambonis
Komets goal horn (Komets game-night audio)
Larry Sterling welcomed in Fort Wayne (Komets game-night audio)
Mony Mony (Your Goalie Sucks) remix (Komets game-night audio blended with the Billy Idol version)
NHL on ESPN theme
O Canada (live, Edmonton crowd)
O Canada/Star-Spangled Banner (live in Chicago) -- Jim Cornelison
Ode to a Minor League mascot -- The Zambonis
One Great City (I Hate Winnipeg) -- Weakerthans (Jets)
One Win Away (Luongo Weeps Tonight) -- Danny Mac Parody Songs (Blackhawks)
Ready to Die -- Andrew W.K.
Red Army (Red Wings)
The Referee's Daughter -- The Zambonis
Right Now -- Van Halen
Roberto Luongo's poetry (Canucks)
Rock el Casbah -- Rachid Taha
Russian Pop Song -- The Zambonis
Sabre Dance (Sabres)
Schrocky Theme
SexyBack -- Justin Timberlake
Slapshot Man -- The Zambonis
Swords of a Thousand Men -- Tenpole Tudor (Sabres)
Uprising -- Muse
Wayne Gretzky Rocks -- The Arrogant Worms
We Write The Songs That Make The Whole Rink Sing -- The Zambonis
Welcome to the Jungle (Komets trim) -- Guns N Roses
What a Man -- Linda Lyndell (theme song of the Tab Lardner Appreciation Society)
Why you hef to be mad? -- Ilya Bryzgalov
The 12 Days of Hockey -- Hockey Night in Canada
21 Guns -- Green Day

So, there they are, all my deep musical secrets and the Ilya Bryzgalov philosophy of hockey.

Distressing dealings with the dentist

2011-08-02T21:49:00.000-04:00

Monday has been my day off work for the past few months, so the stereotype of it being a bad day usually doesn't hold true.

Not so this week.

Yesterday I had to go to the dentist to get two teeth filled, one on each side and all the way in the back. Top shelf. Things started off as they usually do. The assistant swabs the numbing gel over my gums and a few minutes later the dentist jabs with the needle to put in the novocaine (or whatever the brand du jour is). I feel a little twinge but nothing outrageous. When it comes to pain I'm a wuss, so it doesn't take much for my scale to go from zero to owwwwwwwww.

A few more minutes go by as we wait for the drugs to take effect. I can feel the puffy sensation spread my cheek as the left side starts to go numb. The assistant comes back and asks how I'm feeling. I mention that the left is numbing by the right side still feels normal. She suggests that since the tooth is so far back near the cheek bone that it could be number than I think but I don't notice it. That thought had crossed my mind as well, but I still wasn't convinced. She assured me that if it wasn't numb enough they'd add a little more.

Dentist comes back and fires up the drill. He takes aim at the right-side tooth. I hear the buzz of the drill, feel just the pressure at first, and then ... OMGWTFBBQ! That tooth ain't numb, folks.

So, we take everything out of my mouth, jab me with the needle again (on both sides, just to be sure). Now, though, the dentist decides to try the left side since already I felt numb there. He starts to drill and, yep, I don't feel a thing. He finishes that side, goes off to check on another patient, and the assistant puts in the filling.

After all this time, I still don't feel any different on the right side. But two doses of numbifier have surely sent the tooth into la-la land, yes?

Hah. I don't know where the drugs went, but it sure as heck wasn't into that nerve. Again, the drill starts to bite into the tooth, and again, a jolt of pain goes through my jaw. Stop. Remove dental instruments. As they tilt the chair up, I look at my hand and leg, and they're both shaking. That's something I'd rather not see again anytime soon.

Now the dentist pulls open a drawer and starts thumbing through the assorted vials. I'm going to get quite the drug cocktail this time, he says. Just make it a good one, doc; I'm not sure how much more my nerves can take.

We play the waiting game again, and it isn't too long before the entire roof of my mouth is numb ... but I'm still not confident about the right side, deep in the back. It feels different, yes, but is it enough? We'll find out.

In goes the gauze pad. In goes the suction tube. In goes the plastic prop to hold my mouth open. In goes the drill with all its noisy mischief. And then ... I feel the pressure but not the pain.

FINALLY.

At some point I realized that the drill sounded like an opera singer on fast-forward mode. (Hmm, wonder what all was in that drug cocktail...) I had to find some other thought to distract me before I started cracking up with a drill and clamp and suction hose and whatever else they had managed to squeeze into my mouth.

It isn't too long until they finish the procedure, get me all patched up and ready to check out. And now the other shoe drops.

Because of all the extra drugs they had to pump into my uncooperative system, my bill is about $150 more than I had anticipated.

*sigh*

Mondays suck. #FML

2011-06-25T22:24:00.000-04:00

My day

4:00 a.m. Fumble in dark for snooze button on alarm.
4:30 a.m. Realize that pouring cereal into bowl for breakfast is too much effort.
5:35 a.m. McDonald's drive-thru
5:40 a.m. Eat breakfast in parking lot at work.
6-11 a.m. Somehow manage to get through work.
11:30 a.m. Rage at all the F.I.B.s that are on the road.
12:10 p.m. Crawl back into bed.
4:00 p.m. Get up to check on status of video file conversion. Chug some water to avoid dehydration and the hallucinations that come with it.
5:30 p.m. Acquire sub sandwich at Walmart, because lunch never happened and making something at home is again requiring too much effort. Not hungry, but haven't eaten since dawn, so might as well.
6:30-8:30 p.m. Doctor Who DVD time
8:30-now General Internet meh.

I feel exhausted but can't sleep. I go to sleep and wake up still exhausted.
Doing anything that resembles something productive takes too much effort and nonexistent energy.
I haven't taken a Project 365 photo in weeks.
Tomorrow's likely to be yet another Sunday spent mostly under the covers, with sleep being a bonus.

Meh.

I spy a license plate

2011-06-06T09:27:00.014-04:00

Remember those long road trips before there were DVD players or even CD players in minivans? To keep kids from going stir crazy while traveling endless interstates, the license plate game was often employed. It's a simple idea: Keep a stalkeriffic eye on the other vehicles around you and see how many license plates from other states you can spot.

I spend at least two hours on the road almost every day, and now with the summer driving season in swing, I'm using my own version of the game to keep myself entertained. All passenger vehicles are fair game; semi trucks are disqualified because it's their job to go all over the country.

The plates I've seen since the start of May:

Alabama
Alaska
Arizona
Arkansas
California -- June 8
Colorado
Connecticut
Delaware
Florida
Georgia -- June 11
Idaho -- June 7
Illinois
Indiana
Iowa
Kansas -- July 8
Kentucky -- June 11
Louisiana -- June 18
Maryland
Massachusetts
Michigan
Minnesota
Missouri
Montana -- June 18
Nebraska -- June 7
New Jersey -- June 11
New York
North Carolina -- June 9
North Dakota (semi)
Ohio
Oklahoma
Oregon
Pennsylvania
South Carolina -- June 20
Tennessee
Texas
Vermont
Virginia
Washington -- July 25
West Virginia -- June 11
Wisconsin
Wyoming -- June 17

Canada bonus: Ontario, Saskatchewan

If I had a dollar for every Illinois and Ohio license plate I've seen in the past five weeks, I'd probably have enough to buy, um, something expensive. I see at least two or three almost every day. It's getting to the point where I'm starting to wonder whether U.S. 30 isn't just an extension of both states. Michigan plates, on the other hand, are surprisingly rare right now. I'm a little surprised also that I haven't seen an Ontario plate; it's not entirely unusual to see a car from Canuckistan passing through.

This past week, I saw 10 states' plates in less than two days. That's 20% of the country. I'm still holding out hope for a Hawaii sighting.

One side effect I've noticed is a near-obsessive need to glance at every license plate on the walk from my car to a store's front door. I haven't started parking at the far end of any parking lots yet, but I will admit to doing a little neck-craning to see into the next row sometimes.

It keeps me out of trouble.

Impulsiveness and the big building full of books

2011-06-05T21:06:00.001-04:00

The library turns me into a magpie. Earlier this week I went in for one book on Adobe Illustrator and an hour later walked out with more than a dozen items. Between long lists of search results and an eye-catching book cover design or title lurking on the shelf, serendipity strikes and I have to grab that shiny book and make it mine for a while. Before long I have a tall stack of books, CDs and DVDs that I have to carefully balance as I go down the one set of stairs that will then lead me up another set of stairs to the parking lot (the Warsaw library is horribly designed). I didn't bring in a bag because I was going to get only one item, of course.

So, here's how I went from the rock section of the CD case to ... something completely different.

The resistance [compact disc] / Muse
From here to eternity live [compact disc] / the Clash
Abbey Road [compact disc] / The Beatles
Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band [compact disc] / Beatles
Adobe Illustrator CS3 (Classroom in a book)
Get the most from Photoshop / Simon Joinson
Ace of cakes : inside the world of Charm City Cakes / Duff Goldman & Willie Goldman
The Whimsical Bakehouse : fun-to-make cakes that taste as good as they look! / Kaye Hansen and Liv Hansen
Wedding cakes / text by Kathleen Hackett
One-of-a-kind wedding. Invitations and paper details / Laura Maffeo and Colleen Mullaney
The art and craft of keepsake photography engagements and weddings : how to take perfect photos and make stunning invitations, announcements, albums, thank you notes, and more / Barbara Smith
Contemporary wedding crafts : over 40 stylish projects for the modern bride / compiled by Jennifer Fox-Proverbs
Scrapbooking your wedding : fresh ideas for stunning pages

It really does turn into a kind of stream-of-consciousness selection. Tomorrow I go back to return some of the above items, use the Internet and maybe grab some adventures of Sherlock Holmes. Who knows what I'll actually bring home.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Hockey Year

2011-04-13T20:02:00.005-04:00

It's the most wonderful time of the year
With the goal horn a-roaring
And Bruins Bear warning you, "Don't spill the beer."
It's the most wonderful time of the year.
It's the rough, roughest postseason of all
Double-overtime beatings and rivalry meetings
When foes come to call
It's the rough, roughest postseason of all

There'll be octopus throwing
And Sharks dead from choking
And Montreal cop cars alight
There'll be Green Men unsullied
And tales of the Bullies of
Broad Street long, long ago

It's the most wonderful time of the year
Kaner's mullet is showing
And beards will be growing
When Game 7s draw near
It's the most wonderful time of the year

Is Sid Crosby improving?
Are Coyotes moving?
BizNasty tweets don't say so
Hey, if Miller's goaltending
the angst could be ending
from No Goal so long, long ago

It's the most wonderful time of the year
There'll be much celebrating
With the Cup they'll be skating
That chalice so dear!
It's the most wonderful time
It's the most wonderful time
It's the most wonderful time
Oh, the Stanley Cup playoffs are here!

###

It's not just the postseason. It's a way of life.

Subconscious goes on a trip

2011-01-19T11:36:00.000-05:00

This morning after I called work and was told to turn around and go home because the roads were giant sheets of ice, I naturally went back to bed because it was 6:30 and I like sleeping.

Maybe this had something to do with the coffee and being thrown off my usual routine, but I had some pretty bizarre dreams. I also partly blame the guy who runs the Sydney Bears Twitter account since that conversation clearly was still on my mind.

I fall asleep, and the next thing I know I'm sitting outside a Tokens N Tickets, because even in my subconscious I'm a Skeeball fanatic, in a Sydney suburb in my car. (I don't know why I know it's a Sydney suburb, it just is. How my poor beat-up little red car get to Australia?) I'm panicking because it's nightfall, there are no Bears around to help me out, and I don't know where to go or what to do.

I also have no money: Apparently I decided to say heck with it all and hop on a plane in Chicago headed to the other side of the world without really thinking things through. I'm not even sure I have luggage. (BUT I HAVE MY CAR! Hahahaha...) It's really starting to get depressing as I realize that I've been a complete idiot and now I'm stuck in another country with nothing practical. I can't even buy a plane ticket back home. (I got a one-way ticket? Subconscious, what are you saying?)

Then there's a blur, and suddenly I'm riding with a family in their minivan. We are in the city itself because I can see the glow of all the colorful lights around the harbor reflecting off the dark, choppy water. (Did not see the opera house, alas.) I still don't have the feeling that everything's going to be okay, more like things are going to be less bad than me being reduced to a crazy homeless person.

At this point, the furnace here at home turned on with a rumble and woke me up. Now, if this were a chick flick, of course things would work out for the plucky traveler and she would find a great job, life and love in a new country and live happily ever after to the tune of some catchy pop song. But since this is my subconscious, and I'm more likely to watch “Gladiator” or “Troy” than a chick flick, the unlucky traveler would blindly reach to a top shelf and get bit by a lurking brown snake.

No friends. No place to go. No hockey. This qualifies as a Bad Dream. :|

Readers, feel free to psychoanalyze.

The final 100 words

2011-01-19T10:16:00.001-05:00

I've decided to end this 100 words experiment. Unlike Project 365, I just don't care. Maybe it's just because I haven't kept up with it as long, but it's not something I look forward to or even a habit yet. Maybe I'll do the writing exercise from time to time, but not as a daily project. My creative energy seems to go into finding photo ops for Project 365, and cranking out a hundred words just seems like work. Of course, P365 also feels like work sometimes, but then I go “meh” and take a photo of my foot.

One long chain of thought

2011-01-17T22:25:00.000-05:00

I have no idea what today's 100 words are going to be about, so I'm just going to free write until something starts coming together as an idea.

And boom, big long pause after that sentence as my mind goes totally blank.

And another big blank.

The trouble I always had with free writing exercises in college was that the prof would always say, “Write whatever's going through your mind.” Well, I can empty my mind sometimes, so there's just static waiting to be filled with some kind of coherent thought THAT ISN'T COMING. Oh, I'm done. Good night.

This is how they do it in Chicago

2011-01-16T13:42:00.000-05:00

Jim Cornelison sang the national anthem at today's Bears playoff game, and the crowd went absolutely crazy, cheering and singing along like they do at the Blackhawks games where he sings regularly. Since this game was broadcast on national TV, instantly Twitter was abuzz with people either saying “Awesome!” or criticizing the crowd for not being quiet and respectful. I can't call the latter folks haters, because I think they just don't know that in Chicago you go crazy and cheer for your anthem when Cornelison sings. It's a great Blackhawks tradition that stretches back more than 20 years.

Goalie gawking

2011-01-15T20:54:00.000-05:00

This is going to be a good week to be a goalie gawker in Fort Wayne. On Sunday, Larry Sterling, the goalie we all love to hate, returns for the second and last time this season. Last season we saw him at least once a month, so absence has made our hearts grow fonder. On Wednesday, Robby Nolan comes to the coliseum for the only time this season. I'm very excited to see this Little Goalie Who Could play again. He was a beast last year as a rookie, and the stat sheet says he hasn't changed much. Happy days!

The little moments in life

2011-01-15T00:27:00.000-05:00

If you get to the coliseum early enough, you can sometimes see players from both teams still doing stretches and other warmups outside the locker rooms. Tonight as I was walking past the Evansville locker room, across the hallway in the open space a player was hitting a plastic ball back and forth with about three young Komets fans who had their own miniature sticks with them. The kids were probably four or five, if that old. It was one of those moments where if you ever needed to be reminded why hockey players are the best, this was it.

Sign, sign, everywhere a sign

2011-01-13T20:59:00.000-05:00

I don't believe in astrology, but I am rather entertained by the big deal people are making about the “new sign” and how it throws off everything they've ever thought about themselves. Apparently I've gone from being an Aquarius to being a Capricorn. It's not really that big of a deal. Since I was born so close to the switch from Capricorn to Aquarius, whenever I did bother reading the horoscope column, I'd pick whichever blurb sounded better anyway. However, I'm not sure I like the idea of my symbol going from a water bearer to being a goat.

In the bleak midwinter

2011-01-12T21:34:00.000-05:00

It has become a winter tradition that once we have had a good snowfall I take my camera outside to capture some of the prettiness in pixels. A side effect of this tradition is that I also end up freezing my fingers no matter what kind of gloves I wear. Today I was out for about half an hour and went back inside just in time to miss getting caught in some heavy lake-effect snow flurries. Actually, I took a couple pictures of that snow when it was to the north of us and made that today's Project 365 photo.

Confessions of a cookieface

2011-01-11T20:34:00.002-05:00

I seem to have developed a kind of Pavlovian response to lightly falling snow: I bake cookies. It was a thought that kept popping into my mind while I was driving home and trying not to slide off the very snowy, slick highway. Baking chocolate chip cookies was not part of today's plan at all until I saw the flakes falling. (I added cinnamon chips to the dough, and they add a blast of flavor.) Clearly I've baked often enough during snowstorms to wire a connection in my brain. But now I have delicious cookies to take to work tomorrow.

Where it all began

2011-01-10T20:23:00.000-05:00

When I was little, my family would occasionally go to a Komets game and we would sit right behind the goaltender. I loved watching him sprawl around the ice as he made saves, wondering how he could be so nimble while wearing all that gear. One time my mom took me to a game close to my birthday, and as warmups were finishing the goalie was one of the last players on the ice. I called out something like, “Yeah, Racine!” Bruce looked around, saw me wave, and flipped a puck straight up to me. I still have it.

(Yes, I forgot to write 100 Words yesterday. I meant to do it after the game, but then I was tired enough to forget. Should've done it before I left.)

The joy of napping

2011-01-08T22:10:00.005-05:00

I'd like to think that I took a break from eight hours of sleep last night to go work. It sure seemed to work out that way. I got about four hours of sleep after the hockey game, then stumbled out to my car and onward to work, nearly driving off the road a couple times (ugh, snow). Then I came home, ate the other half of yesterday's sandwich for lunch, crawled in bed and woke up more than four hours later. So, I've either been trying to fight through a tired haze or straight up asleep most of today.

Alas, poor Flint (100 Words for Jan. 7)

2011-01-08T22:10:00.004-05:00

I miss the Flint Generals. No, really. I'm being only mildly facetious about this. The team that showed up for the final three months of the season was fantastic. If I had won the recent $335 million lotto, I would've injected so much cash into that team. The beer must be stronger up there. Komets need another close team. Road trips are too dang long this season. Plus, that was the best arena I've been to as far as fans go. The people were great. I felt welcome there, even in my fireball jersey. Heck, I even got hit on.

(Note: I jotted this down on a small notepad during the second intermission of the Komets game, which may be why it's not as polished as other installments. For some reason I ended up writing about the Generals instead of a total fangirl entry on soaking-wet hotass Prince Caspian, since Cousin Jill and I finally got to see "Voyage of the Dawn Treader.")

Blurring the line between fiction and reality (100 Words for Jan. 6)

2011-01-08T22:00:00.000-05:00

Tonight I was so giddy about what was happening in a book I was reading that I literally could not sit still. (The main character was rescued from the brink of death by his best friend.) I'm reading “Lords of the North” by Bernard Cornwell, and his writing draws me into the tale like few others. I can see things as they happen, feel the sea spray, hear the sword clashes. I am so glad I picked up the first book in this series on a whim. Danes, Saxons, swords, violence – it's like a checklist of all my favorite things.

Observations on CHL goalies

2011-01-05T20:34:00.000-05:00

(These numbers valid as of Jan. 4. I can't guarantee the non-Pointstreak math is completely error-free.)

What started out as a little number crunching to see how badly Missouri's Robby Nolan, formerly the Little Flint Goalie Who Could, was tearing up the Central Hockey League turned into a few hours of tinkering with spreadsheets and sorting data until the numbers swam in front of my eyes.

Turns out, Nolan isn't quite crushing the league under his heel, but he is making a solid case for being one of the top netminders in the league along with Wichita's Marc-Antoine Gelinas. Nolan has the league's top goals-against at 2.08 after playing 19 games, with 12 wins. Gelinas has a 2.75 GAA after 19 games and 12 wins.

Nobody is really running away with the league in wins. Bloomington's Marco Emond leads the league in wins with 14, but the next six goaltenders are within two wins of his mark.
Among goalies with more than 10 wins, Emond has a .636 win percentage (14 wins in 22 games), and Nolan and Gelinas both have a .631 win percentage (12 wins in 19 games).
Juliano Pagliero has backstopped Rio Grande Valley to all 13 of its wins. He is tied for second among goaltenders for most wins.
Despite having the most wins (23), Allen does not have a goalie among the top 10 in GAA. Adrien LeMay (3.22 GAA, T19th) is tied for ninth in wins with 10 and has played 15 games with the Americans for a .667 win percentage. Chris Whitley (3.17 GAA, 17th) is in an eight-way tie for 12th in wins with eight, but having played just 11 games with the Americans, his win percentage is a solid .727.
Ian Keserich has been in net for 13 of Tulsa's 16 wins (.812). Matt Lundin has eight of Evansville's 10 wins (.800). Danny Battochio has 13 of Rapid City's 17 wins (.764). Dayton's Jeff Jakaitis has 12 of the team's 16 wins (.750).
Fort Wayne Komets goaltender Nick Boucher's 3.37 GAA puts him 24th in the league. No quantity of orange Kool-Aid can drown that sorrow. However, Boucher is still greater than Mississippi's Larry Sterling in things that matter, like wins (seven compared to six, respectively). He has played in more games (19 to 15), but has a slightly greater GAA (3.37 to Sterling's 3.18).
International Hockey League teams' goalies in top 10 for GAA: Quad City (2nd, Adam Russo, 2.32), Bloomington (3rd, Emond, 2.51), Dayton (6th, Jeff Jakaitis, 2.61), Quad City (8th, David Brown, 2.69)
IHL teams' goalies in top 10 for wins: Bloomington (1st, Emond, 14), Dayton (T5th, Jakaitis, 12)

And just for the heck of it, here's the breakdown of the 39 games remaining on the Komets' schedule:

Bloomington (Emond) -- 8*
Bossier-Shreveport (John DeCaro, Brian Foster) -- 4
Colorado (Kyle Jones, Andrew Penner) -- 3
Dayton (Jakaitis) -- 6
Evansville (Lundin) -- 8
Mississippi (Alexander Pechurskiy, Sterling) -- 1
Missouri (Nolan, Gerry Festa) -- 1**
Quad City (Russo, Brown) -- 4
Rapid City (Danny Battochio) --1
Texas (Kevin Beech, Wayne Savage) -- 1
Wichita (Gelinas) -- 2

All right, I'm putting this away because I've spent far more time on it than I expected and now I've accomplished nothing of what I needed to get done this evening.

*Komets are doomed. :|
**I'm disappointed this is the only time Missouri comes to Fort Wayne. I miss watching Nolan stand on his head once or twice a month all season.

Sometimes I go on a stat binge

2011-01-05T19:25:00.000-05:00

Because I'm a little masochistic, I decided to crunch some numbers regarding the CHL's goaltenders. (A writing major venturing into the numbers field; this will not end well.) It began with me throwing comments and stats into Notepad, because sometimes I'm stupid like that. Then I opened up a spreadsheet and started doing things right. But before long the numbers started blurring in front of my eyes, and I had to remind myself why I tried this: to confirm my belief that Rob Nolan is the best goalie in the league. Turns out, he's a solid top three. Close enough.

The mysteries of sauerkraut

2011-01-04T20:36:00.000-05:00

I have no reason for liking sauerkraut. It smells like something you'd expect to see oozing out of a corroded pipe by the highway. Its tangy flavor smacks you in the face a little. It's translucent. Edible food has no business being almost see-through (exception: water). Even my gag reflex kicks in a little when I think about it. But then I spear it with my fork, down the hatch it goes and I declare it delicious. Maybe some German genetic quirk makes me like it, some throwback to the ancestors across the pond. BRB, need a bathroom break now.

I can't even keep promises to myself

2011-01-03T17:47:00.000-05:00

In 2008 I swore off weddings. Wasn't going to go to any more, wasn't going to be in any more. Then late last year I got a phone call from friends asking me if I'd be in their wedding. Without even hesitating I said, “Sure.” BUT THIS IS DIFFERENT. It's a Jewish wedding. There will be breaking glass and possibly chairs with people sitting on them lifted to shoulder height. SEE? DIFFERENT. But after this, no more.

Unless it's some kind of crazy theme wedding, like LOTR or Doctor Who or something like that. Oh man, Doctor Who wedding...

A guilty pleasure

2011-01-02T17:51:00.002-05:00

I'm watching “The Fifth Element” for the second time in a week. I picked it up for less than $4 at Half-Price Books because I couldn't resist. It's a wonderful little cracked-out sci-fi flick from the mid-90s. Back in the day when we had HBO, it seemed to be on at least three times a week. I always found myself watching, probably because the costumes are fantastic. That, and I get a kick out of Leeloo. “Leeloo Dallas mullllltipass.” I didn't realize that Ian Holm had a role, and now I keep imagining Bilbo Baggins delivering the lines.

100 words

2011-01-01T22:31:00.000-05:00

In addition to Project 365, for 2011 I thought I would also do 100 Words, where you write exactly one hundred words. I don't know if I'll keep up with it, though, because on a cruddy day when it's almost midnight and I still haven't taken a photo I can just hit the shutter button and apologize for whatever shows up. The writing project involves some actual thought. Though maybe I'll just end up writing out numbers. Regardless, this first entry isn't going to be particularly inspired. My back still hurts and I've been sleeping on and off all day.

My 2010 Year in Review playlist

2010-12-30T10:30:00.010-05:00

The last time I made a Year in Review mix was 2006, and even that was just about the summer. (It appears I watched way too much Comedy Central back then.) From time to time I'll queue it up on iTunes, and inevitably I start thinking about why I picked this or that song and what was going on in my life then.

I decided it was time for another round and started compiling the list well before the end of the year, modifying it as needed.

As October turned into November I thought I had the list fairly set except for the order. After all, it takes a special kind of song to make a big impact with two months left in the year. That song happened.

And here... we... go...

Major Tom (Calling Home) - Shiny Toy Guns
Yes, this is the song featured in a Lincoln car commercial. It's fun. It refers to various space terms. It makes me sing along (badly).

Bein Kirot Beiti (Within My Walls) - The Idan Raichel Project
An Israeli with epic hippy hair sings and plays the piano. Do I really need to go into details?

One - U2
I enjoy the lyrics. That's really about all I can say.

Bad Romance - Lady Gaga
First I hated this song, then I loved it, then I got sick of it and refused to listen to it for a while. And then I loved it again. I may or may not dance around when it's playing. This might be *the* song of my 2010.

Doomsday - Doctor Who soundtrack
This is the song that in October demanded to be put on the playlist. I had vaguely known about Doctor Who for years. I'd even watched one of the David Tennant/Martha Jones episodes a few years ago, but at the time it just seemed cheesy. Then I realized how awesome Tennant is and that the library had entire seasons on DVD. In the span of 10 days I watched every Tennant episode. I was hooked. "Doomsday" is a haunting song that plays prominently in Rose's rather dramatic departure.

Mi Ma'amakim - The Idan Raichel Project
The greatest love song in the world is in Hebrew. "Out of the depths I called unto you, come..." The first time I heard it, I didn't know what the lyrics meant but it resonated within me. I listened to it several times in a row, and it's one of the most-played songs in my iTunes. It's sweet and gentle, almost like a lullaby.

I Need Thee Every Hour - Selah
"I need thee, oh I need thee, I need thee every hour." It's been a rough year, and there's been a lot of just trusting God to work things out because I don't have a clue how.

I Stand Amazed - Chris Tomlin
I like when singers update the music to hymns (at least, when they do it well). He doesn't change much, slows it down a little in places, but it's enough that I can't help but think about the words.

"That's, uh, hockey, you know? It's only game. Why you haf to be mad?" - Ilya Bryzgalov
Why you haf to be mad? Trade "hockey" and "game" for whatever it is that's ticked you off lately, and feel the Zen of Bryz calm your frazzled nerves. "That's, uh, forum trolls, you know? It's only Internet. Why you haf to be mad?"

Uprising - Muse
My Sister City introduced me to this song, and it became my hockey playoff anthem.

Chelsea Dagger - The Fratellis
Speaking of hockey, this is the Chicago Blackhawks' goal song, and in 2010 they just happend to win a little championship for the first time in 49 years. CHELSEA, CHELSEA, I BELIEVE!

Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvana
Several times a month as I drove to work long before dawn this used to come on the radio and I would crank it up. It also showed up on my Angry White Girl playlist.

Rock el Casbah - Rachid Taha
I don't remember how Rock the Casbah and I met, but suddenly it was everywhere. And other than The Clash, who better to sing it than a French Arab?

21 Guns - Green Day
The opening notes draw me in every time.

Barra Barra - Rachid Taha
Oh man, the rolling Rs slay me.

Hot Mess - Cobra Starship (the chorus)
A long, long time from now I may stop associating this 17-second clip with drunk Patrick Kane shaking his booty at the Blackhawks' championship parade and rally, or I may have forgotten about it altogether, but until then...

Brass Bonanza - unknown (Hartford Whalers)
In my mind I have managed to link this with bad '70s cop shows set in tropical places (Miami, Hawaii, etc.). It's weird, it's fun, it's at the end of the list where I may or may not hear it depending on how long I listen to the mix.

Arranging songs into their final order was a bit tricky. To some extent they're grouped by theme (general likes, hymns, hockey, rock, hockey round 2), but I also wanted some fairly smooth transitions. At one point, "Doomsday" went straight into "Smells Like Teen Spirit," which wasn't going to work in any universe.

So there it is, my 2010 as defined by the music.

The last night of the Uprising

2010-12-17T19:36:00.000-05:00

Awhile ago, I was bored and asked for story prompts on Facebook. This is in response to, "What if you owned a hockey team?" (2,010 words) I haven't written fiction pretty much all year, so this could be total dreck since I'm out of practice. And because I've perfected the art of procrastinating, at the bottom is the logo I made for the team.

The crowd had filtered out to the lobby and from there into the snowy parking lot long ago, a sea of red ebbing into the night. Some had been in a rush to get back to their cozy homes; others had dawdled, lounging in their seats, content to soak up the last few memories. But by now even the janitors had finished sweeping up the spilled popcorn, crushed peanut shells and dented paper cups left under the rows of seats. In the stillness, I could hear the constant, quiet hum of the ventilation system as the fans drew what had once been warm air away from the rink. One bank of lights had been shut off, leaving the seats in shadow, but the second bank still illuminated the ice. From where I sat, eight rows up, the surface looked dull and tired. Usually the Zamboni would have made its postgame circuits, scraping the ice and trailing a smooth, shiny topcoat ready for the next morning's practice. But not tonight. Tonight the lumbering machine stayed in its garage as the ice was left to melt away.

As far as endings go, I suppose this one wasn't too terrible. Our supporters filled the arena to the brim, we won the game, 4-2, and the goal horn roared for almost a full minute after the clock hit 0:0. Some people had brought red and black streamers and threw them over the glass, the ends fluttering in the air, as my team skated to center ice and raised their sticks to salute the 3,000-strong mob. As the rowdier supporters resumed singing their favorite songs, the players lingered on the ice, giving each other bro hugs and slaps on the back, and sometimes skating to the glass to greet friends they noticed in the stands. This was the end, but it was also a going-away party.

Finally the guys retreated to the locker room in ones and twos to enjoy some contraband cigars and beers, and then, officially, the Warsaw Uprising was no more. I joined the fun for a while, thanking the team for their hard work day in and day out, telling stories about the more infamous moments from the past two years, but I knew when it was time to leave. Any other night I would have stuck around as long as I liked, but tonight the guys wanted to have fun, and that can quickly turn awkward when the boss is around. Even if she is working on her second bottle of Danny's home-brew.

So I came out here to sit one final time in Section 17, straight behind where our net had been. Now just the faded red of the goal line and the blue of the crease remained.

Watching your dream die wrenches your soul, but sometimes it just can't live in the world where it's born. We had had a good season, two good seasons, but war rationing had caught up with us, and the supplies needed to keep the team stocked were scarce. Those people who did have jobs often had to choose whether to buy groceries or gasoline. Our tickets, even at their modest prices, were considered luxury items, though it was surprising how often this particular luxury item was sold out. The energy needed to run the building could be put to better use elsewhere in the war effort. Even more unfortunately, so could some of the manpower.

Marco shipped out three weeks ago. Jake received his draft notice this morning. Inevitably more would follow.

I shook my head, hoping the motion would help banish the worries, and hunched my shoulders as a wind gust slammed the building. The storm that had been brewing all day over Lake Michigan had finally arrived. We had expected to be finished with winter's nasty weather now that it was mid-March, but clearly the lake had other ideas. Lake-effect snow had fallen often this winter, and more than once the team had needed to leave extra early for games in Michigan as the thick, fluffy flakes quickly blanketed the roads. Once on the drive home in the middle of January the bus had gotten stuck in a drift and the half-asleep, grouchy squad had to push it loose. Insult added to injury: They had lost that night, 8-1, to the Grand Rapids Grizzlies.

As the building creaked amid another gust, I wondered if Yoda had left already. Often Father Yoder and at least one or two of the younger brothers waited with the buggy to take Matthew home. Forwards had quickly learned to avoid drawing the attention of our tall defenseman, because years of throwing hay bales and other farm chores had built him more solid than any gym workout. Woe to the idiot who kept his head down while flying across the blue line; a collision with this pillar had knocked two guys out cold.

Someone – it sounded like Jared – was singing in the hallway, and his booming voice drifted into the arena.

Our forwards shoot better than snipers
Our defense stands strong like a wall
Our goalie is nutty like squirrel shit
Uprising don't fear you at all

Oh, yes, one of the many tunes our fans had commandeered and set new lyrics to, this time “My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean.” Our crowd inexplicably had a European football atmosphere, with songs and chants ringing out almost nonstop, flags waving and scarves held high. After numerous complaints about this song and a few flyers posted around the building, a particular line had been amended to “squirrel crap,” but I still got phone calls Monday morning from people who thought such language shouldn't be sung on a Sunday evening. Part of me always wanted to suggest, “Try singing some other song louder.” Mob mentality was simple: You follow the loudest leader.

After the song debuted, our number one goalie, Edmond, had gone out to talk to fans milling around near the locker room and asked in his thick French accent to “please be explain” the squirrel part. Amid hoots of laughter they assured him it just meant that he was crazy, crazy in a good way. And he was, as all good goalies are. The evening before training camp began this season, he realized he had left his second-luckiest pair of socks at home. He drove to eastern Ontario that night and pulled into the parking lot at the arena, hopped up on two thermoses full of Tim Hortons coffee, three minutes before 10 a.m. He was mostly useless the rest of that first day and looked like a zombie in his roster photo, but he had his socks.

Another time he was fifteen minutes into putting on his equipment for a game when he realized he had started with his left side, not the right as usual. Off came the pads, pants and protectors. Back on went his game-day suit. He walked out of the locker room for a few seconds, then came back in and began the routine from the beginning, this time starting with the right side.

Now he was skating slowly through center ice, wearing just a T-shirt and shorts with salvaged streamers draped over his shoulders like a cape. He had been working on his fifth bottle of brew when I had left the locker room, and I was impressed at how steady he was now. A few strides later he was in the crease, scraping the ice like he did before a game. The furtive glance over his shoulder toward the bench and locker room door, though, was a variation from the routine. When he was confident no one was watching him – from that angle, at least – he lifted the heel of his right skate and slammed it like a pick into the ice on the goal line. A small pile of chips grew as he continued to dig.

After several jabs, he crouched and lifted a small object out of the ice. He stood there and brushed it clean with his thumb

“Ça va, Squirrely?” I called.

He flinched, and as he turned, the tip of his right blade caught the edge of the hole. I had to stifle a laugh as his left leg shot out from under him and landed with a thud. He prided himself on being graceful in the net, none of that wild flopping around business, and this had hardly been one of his finer moments. By the time I descended the stairs to ice level, he had sat up and was brushing snow from his shoulder. One of the black streamers had torn and was starting to shrivel in the moisture.

“Your first time on skates?” I teased as I opened the maintenance door built into the boards and stepped onto the ice.

“I am a goalie, not a skater,” he retorted as he got back on his feet. A few ice chips and flecks of snow clung to his brown curls. He kept his right hand clenched, but I could see part of a gold chain dangling from his fingers.

“Whatever you are, you're destroying my rink! How about you show me what buried treasure you found and I won't call the cops for vandalism.”

Edmond opened his hand, and across his palm lay a small gold crucifix. So, that would help explain why he had arrived in town almost two weeks earlier than expected, just as the ice crew was ready to flood the rink to build the sheet of ice.

I shook my head. “French Catholic and more superstitious than ... I don't know what.”

He grinned as he slipped the cross over his head. “Never injured,” he stated. “And never more than four goals a game.” When I brought up a strained knee in December, he waved it off. “Just tired.”

I chuckled. “And now you go home to wait until fall comes and bury it again. You really are a squirrel, aren't you.”

It was his turn to laugh. “Yes! And what about you?”

“Back to the farm,” I replied. “Plant in a few weeks, hope the summer isn't too dry, harvest in the fall, and wish there was hockey in the winter.”

“Have Yoda shovel the pond.”

“He can't do it alone. How about you come help him?” I suggested.

He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Will you have cider?” He had become addicted to fresh apple cider from the local orchards and swore he could tell which orchard each gallon came from just by subtleties in the taste.

“If you come shovel snow,” I said, “I will make sure I have cider.”

“Deal!” He stuck out his hand and I shook it, unsure whether he was serious or whether the home-brew had taken over. Then he pushed off with his skate and started toward the locker room, stopping only when he noticed I stayed behind. “Come on.”

I shook my head. “Nah, it's time for the team to just be the team.”

His eyebrows scrunched together as he frowned.

“No, really, I'm done for the night. Just make sure this place is still standing when you guys leave, otherwise I'm in a lot of trouble with the bank.”

The frown deepened, but he didn't say anything more as he went back to the bench. I saw him glance back once, and then he disappeared into the locker room.

I looked around the rink for the last time, fixing every scratch and black mark on the glass, every dent and scrape on the painted boards in my mind. Our entry in hockey history would be brief, but we had been a team, had played hard, and wouldn't have changed a day in the past two years.

And as I headed for the stairs, I made a mental note to keep some cider in the freezer next winter, just in case.

Yes, that's a ninja with a hockey-stick nunchuck. This is, after all, MY team.

Wish list

2010-10-26T20:14:00.005-04:00

Every year my mom asks me if I've made my Christmas wish list yet, and every year I say, "Um... let me get back to you." Then I keep putting it off until suddenly December 1 rolls around and oops, I still haven't decided if there's anything I want.

This year, I decided I was actually going to make an effort to put together a wish list. This involved going to several stores and websites, and I still have to make another trip to Old Navy to look at coats. Peacoats and trenchcoats have really caught my eye this year. Red ones. And the occasional dark purple one. I digress. I had some trouble choosing things because there's nothing I really need and the stuff I want I don't have room for (I'm lookin' at you, awesome furniture and accessories).

So here it is, the great big Christmas wish list (which also doubles as a birthday wish list since my birthday is the next month).

Notes

Penguins -- I get a little gleeful whenever I see penguin items (but not Pittsburgh Penguin items. A girl's gotta have standards).
Cookie cutters -- A store in Fort Wayne called Country Kitchen has an entire wall of cookie cutters. It's a little slice of heaven. I like obscure cookie cutters, such as the pirate ship I got for Christmas a couple years ago.
Penguin cookie cutter -- This ... Oh man, I don't even know...

Apparel
Apt. 9 sweater w/ scarf (XL, any color)
Apt. 9 striped magenta/black striped shirt (XL)

Entertainment
My Amazon.com wish list, which isn't the same as what's listed below
Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban DVD (widescreen)
The Mighty Ducks DVD (widescreen)
The Reduced Shakespeare Company - The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged)
Disney's Beauty and the Beast DVD (ugh, so many versions I don't know which one to link to)
Doctor Who season 2
Doctor Who season 3
Doctor Who original television soundtrack
Sherlock (Region 1)

Random
Ninja cookie cutters (Anyone who gets me these is guaranteed a batch of cookies)
Home Studio Woodland Soup Mug (the moose mug!)

Hockey
Frankie DeAngelis swag (Frankie D is the new legendary quest for a Phillips shirt)
Buffalo Sabres home jersey (L or XL)
Manitoba Moose t-shirt (army, L)

Bath and Body Works
P.S. I Love You items
Dark Kiss items
Secret Wonderland items
Jasmine Vanilla sugar scrub

Electronics
Sony - AM/FM Dual-Alarm Clock Radio with Apple® iPod® Dock - Silver/Black, Model: ICFC7IP | SKU: 9209297
Blank DVDs and CDs, because I'm out and too lazy to buy more

Bleh...

Photoshop disaster, hockey style

2010-10-18T15:47:00.000-04:00

This morning I finally got around to looking through the Komets' game night program from the home opener. On game night I had been too distracted with watching things fall apart on the ice.

I'm used to the kind of quality found in minor league, local advertising. It's a hodgepodge of good, good enough and downright ugly. Sometimes a clever piece will stand out. Sometimes a full-page ad will induce a facepalm.

This was one of the latter:

The first thing that caught my eye was the nameplate on #72. Scribbled out with a Sharpie? Really? After that, things just went downhill.

The next thing I noticed was the guy in the Komets' fireball home jersey colliding with ... a guy in the Komets' 2009-2010 retro jersey. Wait, what?

For reference:
Komets fireball

Komets retro

The longer I looked at the ad and the "Komets," the more things fell into place. The distinct font used for the numbers. The swoosh of color on the underside of the white sleeves. A guy wearing the captain's C who isn't the Guy. Shoulder patches that aren't for Fort Wayne sponsors. Obi Aduba throwing his weight around.

Suddenly it all made sense.

The Quad City Mallards got 'shopped.

I shook my head sadly and turned the page.

P.S. It's not entirely hopeless in minor league hockey advertising. There is win to be found.

Time to reveal my game-day playlist

2010-10-07T16:01:00.001-04:00

The days are shorter. The nights are colder. The wind from the north carries a distinct chill.

But enough with the weather report. It's hockey night! Once again I find myself with an hour's commute to the game. This isn't an entirely bad thing, as I'm once again able to put together a lengthy game-day playlist on my iPod. Some of these songs are carry-overs from last season. Others I picked up over the summer after the Stanley Cup playoffs.

Hockey Night in Canada Theme
NHL on ESPN intro
Right Now -- Van Halen
Welcome to the Jungle -- Guns N Roses
O Canada/Star-Spangled Banner -- Jim Cornelison, live at the United Center in Chicago
Enter Sandman -- Metallica
Fifty-Mission Cap -- The Tragically Hip
Komets goal horn
Chelsea Dagger -- The Fratellis
Hot Mess -- Cobra Starship (only because of Patrick Kane)
Breakaway -- The Zambonis
Mony Mony ("your goalie sucks" remix) -- Billy Idol
Feels Like '93 -- Annakin Slayd
"That's hockey, y'know, it's only game. Why you have to be mad?" -- Ilya Bryzgalov
Helmet Head -- Great Big Sea
Hit Somebody -- Warron Zevon
One Great City (I Hate Winnipeg) -- Weakerthans
Brass Bonanza
Concussion -- The Zambonis
Sabre Dance
Barra Barra -- Rachid Taha

Along with Komets standards ("Welcome to the Jungle," "Mony Mony," goal horn), the Chicago Blackhawks (national anthems, "Chelsea Dagger"), Montreal Canadiens ("Feels Like '93"), Buffalo Sabres ("Sabre Dance") and Hartford Whalers ("Brass Bonanza") are represented. The defunct Winnipeg Jets are mentioned in "One Great City," and the franchise's current incarnation, Phoenix Coyotes, gets a nod with the Ilya Bryzgalov quote.

It's time to get this preseason started. Let's go Komets!

10 things I like ... but don't love

2010-09-17T19:52:00.000-04:00

A friend posted this topic on her own blog, and I'm shamelessly stealing it. The object is to list things you like but don't love. Of course, if you've already read the title you know that.

(Listed in order that I thought of them)

1. Facebook - It's getting tedious. Just because I know you or went to school with you in my offline world doesn't mean I want you in my online world.

2. Buffalo wings - I can't be sure just how spicy the sauce is going to be until it's too late.

3. The Chicago Cubs - My mom's a fan, so I've grown up with them in my periphery. Of course, Cubs fandom also appeals to my cynical nature: "There's always next season" and the Century of Suck.

4. Doctor Who - I'm amused by the cheesiness, but sometimes it gets to be too much.

5. Neil Gaiman's novels - I think overall his shorter pieces are his stronger work.

6. Staying out really, really late - Don't get me wrong: I enjoy it a lot, but I also know how much sleep I need to be pleasant!

7. Small dogs - They're cute and all, but I'd rather have a dog I don't have to worry about squishing.

8. Snow - Snow is fun. Snow is pretty. Snow is cause for shenanigans. Snow is pure evil when it's covering the roads and piled high on my car.

9. Working out - I like working up a sweat; I'm usually just too lazy (or tired) to actually do it.

10. Fishing - I don't like taking fish off the hook, mainly because I think my hand is going to get sliced to shreds by the scales

If you have cheese, I have the whine

2010-08-06T12:56:00.000-04:00

Look, idiot woman in the minivan, stop talking on your cell phone and swerving into and out of the turn lanes around the Goshen Ave./US 930/I-69 interchanges and freaking pay attention to what you're doing. The reason why I blow through that area at 55-60 mph on Fridays is because I want to get the heck away from people like you.

+++

Tuesday's dental procedure could very well set my savings and checking accounts to $0.00.

+++

About 25% of Americans are either unemployed or working only part-time because they can't find full-time work. AMERICA, HELL YEAH! USA! USA! USA!

+++

I'm worried a spot on my leg might be something bad. I might be able to afford the office visit, but not to do anything about it. Living is expensive, dying is cheap.

+++

I don't watch enough TV or hockey to be much good at the #hockeyTV shows hashtag currently being batted around Twitter. Though I do think "Sean Avery Says the Darndest Things" was pretty clever.

+++

I don't want to work retail, but at this point it doesn't look like there's anywhere else for me to go.

Top 5 reasons to bring back Frankie DeAngelis

2010-07-08T06:36:00.001-04:00

Summer silly season is upon us, and the Komets have done a good job in bringing back their young defensemen from last season. Bobby Phillips, Danko Mironovic, Keith Rodger -- a good start. But the K's need to bring back a certain D-man called Frankie DeAngelis.

5. How can you not sign someone named Frankie D.? The lulz factor is high here.
4. He's quick on the ice and can get himself out of jams without drawing penalties (22 PIM last season).
3. Ended regular season at +31, second on team behind Colin Chaulk at +34.
2. Depending on how the rules shake down in the CHL/IHL deal, he'd still count as a developmental player (aka rookie -- it's 14 letters shorter).
1. The numbers speak for themselves: 41 points in 73 games as a rookie on the blue line (9 goals, 32 assists). Franki D finished eighth on the team in scoring overall and only two points behind Guy Dupuis among defensemen. He was the top-scoring true rookie (Sean O'Connor played just enough of last season to stay under the rookie game cap), 10 points ahead of hometown hero Kaleigh Schrock.

In short, he's part of a proven, soul-crushing defense on the blue line and can regularly find his way onto the scoresheet at the other end of the ice.

Don't let the future Don of Defensemen get away. Re-sign Frankie DeAngelis.

Music of the rink

2010-06-07T18:03:00.001-04:00

Just because the season's over doesn't mean the party has to stop. I'm going to have to blame the Chicago Blackhawks for this, but I've already begun putting together my playlist for the 2010-2011 season.

Yes, "Chelsea Dagger" is on there. If you've seen my Facebook lately, you'll know I've had it stuck in my head frequently. (Oh, the joys of stream-of-conscious status messages.)

So far the playlist is a mishmash of audio I ganked from video I shot at Komets games, goal songs and other things that amuse me for reasons I don't have to divulge.

Katie's 2010-2011 Komets game day playlist*

"Welcome to the Jungle" (trimmed to Komets intro)
National anthems (live in Chicago)
Komets goal horn
"Hats off to Larry" (Game audio, with Larry chant)
"Chelsea Dagger"
"SexyBack"
Ilya Bryzgalov's "Why you have to be mad?" quote
"Mony, Mony" ("Your goalie sucks" remix)

Metallica's "Enter Sandman" stands a good chance of making it onto the list, as does the "Rocky" theme. Well, I don't know. I'm conflicted on "Rocky."

I like my game day playlists to be about an hour long, because that's how long it takes me to get from home to a game. Hopefully that'll change to a much shorter commute sometime next season, but that depends on the job situation.

But for now, that's the music of my season.

P.S. I'm open to suggestions!

*Playlist is subject to change -- including additions, subtractions and rearrangements -- without notice.

### Roll Zamboni ###

The Ballad of Larry Sterling

2010-05-30T10:57:00.004-04:00

(This originally appeared on Facebook on February 7, after Larry gave up 7 goals in 30 minutes on February 5. Posted now for some offseason lulz. I hope that no matter how this minor league redistribution shakes out we'll still get to have Larry visit Fort Wayne on a regular basis. I have way too much fun teasing him.)

To the tune of Kenny Rodgers' "Lucille"

At a rink in Port Huron
He talked trash about Tim Haun
Saying, “That guy's out of his league”
Now two months later
He's still a hater
And starting in goal at Fort Wayne

After the puck dropped
He stopped some big shots
But then one slipped by his glove
The Komets were laughin'
His armor was crackin'
As the heckles rained down from above

Soon Frankie shoved in two more
And Mac found an open door
The scoreboard couldn't be wrong
Holey like swiss cheese
He sank down to his knees
As the fans sang him this song:

You picked a fine time to melt down, Larry
Ten thousand Komet fans your failure did see
Haun had a great night
You got some stage fright
Humiliation does sting
You picked a fine time to melt down, Larry

Then in the second
He didn't get better
Drouin and Thomas found net
Loudly the bell tolled
Celebrations don't get old
And Drulia didn't pull him just yet

Shaf put in another
And Sterls cried for his mother
As he lay there flat on the ice
If he opens his big mouth
Before a road game down south
Well, maybe next time he'll think twice

You picked a fine time to melt down, Larry
Ten thousand Komet fans your failure did see
Haun had a great night
You got some stage fright
Humiliation does sting
You picked a fine time to melt down, Larry

The Komet faithful

2010-05-02T13:37:00.007-04:00

We had a Game 6 to attend.
We went by bus, by car, by truck, by van. We rode with family and friends, and we made friends along the way because no one on this pilgrimage can be a stranger for long.

We wore our shirts, our jerseys, our hats, our photo buttons. We brought our flags, our horns, our bells.

Most of all, we brought our voices. And when our team took to the ice, we quickly drowned the boos with the roar of "Let's go, Komets!"

We let Larry know we cared.

We filled entire sections of Port Huron's rink, turning those wood-slat seats into driftwood on a sea of orange and black. We made it a home away from home.

We cheered, we clapped, we begged the ref to call something, anything, on the other team so our guys could get a break from killing off 5-on-3s.

We taught the sound crew not to play "Mony, Mony." Their fans didn't know the chant. We did.

The song ended abruptly.

We showed the home crowd just how magnificent "He shoots, he scores!" sounds. They tried to steal it, but we did it better every time.

We ran our flag the length of rink after goals. We stole that move from them, and we did it better.

We lived and died with every stride, every shot, every odd-man rush, for 59:57 of game play.

Then we erupted in a cacophony of wordless shouts as the net popped with Leo's goal. We jumped, we high-fived, we rushed the railing around the ice.

We screamed ourselves hoarse, but when our heroes turned to us after the horn and raised their sticks to us and yelled with us, we forgot how sore our voices were.

Game 6? Yeah, we were there.
Game 7? We wouldn't be anywhere else. Chaulk has a promise to keep. We have 20 men to support.

We are Komets fans.

We'll see you Monday.

For the WANT! of a T-shirt

2010-04-25T22:52:00.000-04:00

I'm a Komets supporter. In addition to going to games and telling people, "You need to keep an eye on this player," I acquire merch or make my own when all else fails. I've made some hefty purchases (Schrock jersey), waited in line two hours before game time (Boucher bobblehead) and spent more than 12 hours on a Photoshop project (20"x30" team poster). After taking a look at my gear, I decided I needed to find a way to show my defenseman some love.

This year the Komets souvenir stand started offering to put a name and number on the back of T-shirts and sweatshirts with some sort of heat press device. I knew I wanted one, but wasn't sure who to put on it until near the end of the regular season. Little did I know that my delay would keep me from my shirt for nearly another four weeks. Four weeks for something that is essentially merch-table instant gratification.

Here's how it happened.

Last week of March: Decide I want a Bobby Phillips T-shirt to wear under the Schrock jersey. Layering -- it keeps you warm.

April 1 -- Redeem Orange Collar points for customization coupon. Acquire coupon at that night's game but decide to wait to use it until next game because of money issues. MISTAKE. Am serious candidate for April fool.

April 7 -- Stroll up to merch table with coupon in hand only to discover T-shirts are sold out. HORRORS. Not only do I not get my T-shirt, I have wasted 75 points on useless blue slip of paper. Learn that more are being ordered, which is some comfort. Dark feeling in pit of stomach lingers. Might have been the walking taco.

April 17 -- Arrive at game and see big box of orange shirts. Jubilation! Patience and persistence shall pay off. Clerk brings over shirt for me to inspect, then goes to T-shirt hot press machine to begin putting Phillips 20 on the back. After far too short a time, she returns to where I am standing. T-shirt machine is broken. Tragedy. Am told they hope to get it fixed during the week. Dark feeling in pit of stomach grows more intense -- clearly not brought on by walking taco.

April 22 -- Ready to start playoffs with new apparel, but when I get to the coliseum I see that the T-shirt machine is GONE. Not just broken, but not even in sight. I lament to Kim via text message while watching IceHawks warmups. She shares my pain because she, too, wants a Phillips shirt. Shortly thereafter I get another reply from her saying a deal has been brokered with souvenir stand. Great rejoicing. Kim is genius. Shirts should be ready by next game.

April 25 -- Ready to go full-blown game misconduct on somebody if shirt is still MIA. No, I lie. Am too passive-aggressive to ever get game misconduct. More likely will sulk all the way up stairs to 200 level and then be over it. Meet up with Kim as warmups end. She has her shirt and assures me mine is downstairs. She saw it. IT EXISTS. We talk, hang up the Larry poster, then I head to the merch table in high spirits. I explain to one of the ladies what the situation is, and she gives me a weird look. She rummages through several bags and cabinets before conferring with someone else, who tells me that my friend picked up both shirts.

O_O

My friend most certainly did not act like she had my shirt. But at this point the lights were dimming in the arena and I didn't have time to run halfway around the concourse to find out what was going on. Clearly I still am not fated to have this shirt.

...ok, it's late, I'm tired, Komets lost, am grumpy, so let's wrap this up. During first intermission we sort things out, I get my shirt AT LAST, put it on, and ditch the jersey for the rest of the game because the arena was rather warm.

Moral of the story: Buy swag at first opportunity.

Hockey urban legends

2010-04-23T19:51:00.000-04:00

If you look in a mirror at midnight on the night of a new moon and say "Justin Hodgman" three times, Larry Sterling wakes up in a cold sweat.

Whenever Kaleigh Schrock starts a lawn mower, somewhere Jason Kostadine cringes.

Brad MacMillan cracks his knuckles and Jason Lawmaster gets a headache.

Playoff Playlist

2010-04-21T21:30:00.000-04:00

It's playoff hockey time here in minor-league land, and I've finalized my drive-to-the-game playlist. Hopefully the Komets will give me reason to play it at least four or five times over the next few weeks.

I Gotta Feeling -- The Black Eyed Peas
I'm Shipping up to Boston -- Dropkick Murphys
Right Now -- Van Halen
Uprising -- Muse
NHL on ESPN
The Hockey Song -- Stompin' Tom Connors
Hockey Night in Canada Theme (though my version has Foster Hewitt saying, "Hello Canada and hockey fans across the United States and Newfoundland," at the beginning)
"The Place'll Be Rocking Cause It's Saturday Night" -- Another CBC intro, but I can't find the version I remember on YouTube
Anthems -- Edmonton Oilers vs. Carolina Hurricanes, June 2006
Hit Somebody -- Warren Zevon
Breakaway -- The Zambonis
Goal horn
The Goalie is Drunk -- The Zambonis
Happy When We're Winning -- The Zambonis
Bodies (Let the Bodies Hit the Floor) -- Drowning Pool
Fight on the Ice -- The Zambonis
Don't Stop Believing (Red Wings remix) -- Journey
The Final Countdown Remix 2000
Keep Your Head in the Game -- The Zambonis
The Chance May Never Come Again -- CBC special
21 Guns -- Green Day

Now drop the puck already!

Baring it all

2010-04-05T11:53:00.004-04:00

I've been a bad citizen of the Internet. It has been weeks since I have gone through my Google Reader, and oh how the blog posts stacked up. I had more than 300 stories in the CBC hockey feed alone (I scanned the headlines and clicked "next" on most of those). I've slowly been slugging away at the rest, but every day more are added. I feel like that guy, wossname, the one who keeps rolling the boulder up the hill only to have it roll back down again.

Mythology reference aside, I cherry-picked my way through my reading list when I landed on the blog of my former college freshman mentor, Swedish Pankakes. To my surprise, I found I was tagged in a post. The premise was simple: reveal the contents of your purse.

I bit.

A: Work schedules.
B: Bath and Body Works lotion (nectarine mint) that I rarely use.
C: Mary Kay lip gloss that I've had forever and use even more rarely than the lotion. Pretty sure at this point the chemicals in the gloss have broken down into something dangerous.
D: Work ID badge.
E: Snazzy wallet that I use on Komets game days because it leaves plenty of room in purse for my big camera.
F: The blue notebook was my primary paper until I whined enough that Cousin Jill got me the splendiforous British WW2 propaganda metal notebook. I keep them both around because I'm too lazy to transfer all my notes from the blue one into the red one.
G: Schrock and Phillips photo buttons leftover from the weekend game.
H: 4-pack Duracell AA batteries in case batteries in camera die during Komets game. Will stash away two packs next month for Game 7 of Turner Cup Finals against Muskegon (book it, done).
I: Black pen because I need something to write in my two notebooks with; black Sharpie still in purse from Thursday night Komets game when I took Shenora down to the locker room to get her poster signed.
J: Ear buds for iPod.
K: Teeth-cleaning supplies that I usually forget I have in the interior pocket.

NOT PICTURED: Canon PowerShot A510 camera, which I was using to take the above photo. This morning I almost put in my larger SX10 but decided I didn't want to lug it around today.

In what should surprise nobody still reading this post, this purse is my go bag for Komets game days. It's big enough to hold my camera and numerous accessories, yet not a bulky monstrosity.

So there it is, a microcosm of my life laid bare. It doubles as my Project 365 photo for the day.

UNRELATED BUT AWESOME: See that "Forward thinking" image in the top left corner? I made it, and you can share in the awesome by downloading it from the Buffalo Sabres.

Six degrees of separation, hockey style

2010-03-28T17:43:00.002-04:00

1. Alexander Ovechkin, goofy Washington Capitals star
2. Bruce Boudreau, Capitals coach and former player/coach for the Fort Wayne Komets
3. Blake Sebring, News-Sentinel Komets beat writer and co-worker
4. Me, copy editor

I love this game.

Oh for fark's sake

2010-03-24T22:05:00.003-04:00

Walmart wants me to sign a copyright release agreement before it'll let me print off a Komets poster I ordered.

On the one hand, thanks for thinking my image is good enough to infringe.

On the other hand, I don't have much room for delay on this timeline, so if this whole paperwork thing takes awhile to process, I'm not going to have said poster in time for a certain game, and that'll just ruin pretty much the entire reason why I made it in the first place, and now I'm just adding more clauses to see how long this sentence can get because I do weird stuff like this from time to time because, well, I do, so deal with it.

Am taking a friend to her second Komets game on April 1 (no foolin'!). We'll be three rows from the glass, so she's probably going to die a little (in a good way). I'd like to have the poster ready so we can go to the autograph line and she can stand in awe of the team. Because, see, when I treat my friends to a game, I make it an event.

To wrap up: Dear Walmart, those really are my images, don't screw this up for me. Kthx.

The wild world of search terms

2010-03-22T17:37:00.003-04:00

I was looking through my Flickr referrals just now, and for some unknown reason, Larry Sterling doing his happy goalie dance is the fifth result -- for now -- of an images.google.com search for "Fort Wayne Komets wallpaper."

...

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

What really throws me is that wallpaper isn't a tag or included anywhere in the title and description. Someone in the comments said "background," but that's not enough to catch a search engine's attention, is it?

Are Larry's super powers really so super that he can usurp the 30+ real Komets wallpapers I've done?

Or... *gasp*

Is Google a Larry fan?

Can Larry come out and play?

2010-02-22T15:52:00.004-05:00

Hate him or just dislike him, there's no question that Port Huron goalie Larry Sterling puts butts in seats when the IceHawks come to Fort Wayne.

The guys up in the press box have fun with the goaltender whether he's on the ice or the bench, putting him on the look-a-like cam with Bozo the Clown, Tinker Bell, a crying baby and the like.

I'm getting tired of the clown look-a-like. What I want to see is one of his teammates lean over and plant a big wet one on his cheek when Larry shows up at the end of Kiss Cam. Can you imagine how loud the coliseum would get? We can't get a “Let's go, Komets!” chant going to save our lives this season, but the wonderful Mr. Sterling just has to take to the ice for warmups and the place is ringing with “Laaaaaaarrrryyyy! Laaaaaaarrrryyyy!”

I'm willing to bribe an IceHawk or two, or even the whole team if necessary, with cookies, brownies, cupcakes, muffins – whatever homemade baked good it takes – for the bus ride home to make this happen. IceHawks captain Kevin Hansen is a former Komet, played on the '08 championship team, and I wonder if a carefully-worded letter might convince him and the guys to play along. Port Huron comes to town only two more times this regular season (March 13 and April 3).

Such an incident would go down in Komet lore forever.

Dear IceHawks,
Are you guys willing to poke a little fun at yourselves?

I go to Komets games for the lulz

2010-01-30T06:44:00.001-05:00

Friday night the Komets played at home for the first time in 12 days. I had missed my seat muchly. Sitting in Section 221 is interesting, because there aren't a lot of season-ticket holders in it. The faces are always changing, for better or worse, and I get to be amused (or irritated) by people's antics.

Near me sat a lady whose voice carried easily. After the starting lineups were announced, I heard her say, "Boucher, that's a French name!"

She proceeded to shout at him the rest of the night in French. Bouch makes a big save? She calls out something in French. The Quad City play starts to rush toward him? She lets him know in French. He lingers too long behind the net while playing the puck? She yells at him in French.

So where are the lulz in this?

Nick Boucher, out of Cobble Hill, British Columbia, doesn't speak French*.

While Boucher is indeed a French name, Pierre-Claude Drouin and Guy Dupuis are the team Francophones.

I chuckled to myself all night.

*This post null and void should I learn that Bouch does indeed speak the French, but for now let me enjoy the laughs.

BONUS: According to About.com, "boucher" as a verb means to block -- eerily fitting for a goaltender. As a noun, it means butcher.

The thrill of the hunt

2010-01-07T21:14:00.000-05:00

Occasionally I'll hear a song on TV or in a movie, like it, and then have no idea what it's called. Of course, I do my best to figure out what the song is, but if it's an instrumental, the difficulty factor goes through the roof.

The longest it's ever taken me to match a name to a tune is eight years. When Wayne Gretzky retired in 1999, one of the ceremonies in Edmonton had this really sad, slow bagpipe solo playing over video highlights from his career. At that time I didn't have the Internet, so there was no way for me to do any sleuthing. Off and on throughout the years I'd run some searches through Google (because I'm a dork like that), but nothing ever clicked.

Then when Cousin got married in 2007, she used "Highland Cathedral" on the piano as her bridal march. And I thought, "Hey, that's pretty." Cousin has taste. Later I went rummaging around YouTube to see what other arrangements there were and found a group of bagpipers performing. I listened to it a few times and got this nagging feeling it was more familiar than just the wedding song.

Then it clicked. I'm not 100% sure, but I think what I heard in '99 was just a really, really slow version.

So that was the first and biggest tune hunt. The latest one happened after I'd seen the "Avatar" trailers a couple times. There was a choral bit somewhere around the middle that I knew I had heard before elsewhere. It sounded like something from a fantasy epic, but I ran the most likely scores through my head and nothing matched up.

A quick supplication to the oracle of Google revealed the song was "My Name is Lincoln" from "The Island," but I hadn't seen that movie so it couldn't be where I was getting my deja vu.

I let it stew in my subconscious awhile longer, and a handsome guy on a ship appeared, as did big old-school English dresses.

I grabbed a movie from my collection and put it in the DVD player. The song's also the DVD menu music for "Elizabeth: The Golden Age."

Mission accomplished.

Best Flickr referral I've had in a long time

2010-01-05T22:25:00.000-05:00

Figures. Canada is fucked and its all because of goaltending

Apparently someone is rather irritated with how the World Junior Hockey Championship gold medal game is progressing.

...

But even as I'm typing this post, the game is changing fast from what I'm hearing on Fark and Twitter. Canada just scored to pull within one of the U.S. (5-4) in the final 2:40

HOLY CRAP they just tied it at 1:38. Damn my lack of cable!!!!

Wow... going to overtime, and I can't stay up any longer. :(

2/365

2010-01-02T20:16:00.002-05:00

We got some lake-effect snow overnight. I went out this afternoon to take some pics, but with the brisk wind it ended up being far too cold to be out and about. My fingers were numb after just a few minutes.

Project 365: 1/365 -- The second photo of 2010

2010-01-02T20:04:00.004-05:00

I'm afraid Project 365 may end up being 193 photos of stuff in my house. This is the second photo of the year because the first one didn't turn out well. I picked up this fake rose in the Halloween aisle and put it in a tall blue bottle that I got at a root-beer stand at the Johnny Appleseed Festival in September.

The last photo of 2009: Lincoln Kaleigh Schrock

2010-01-01T00:16:00.004-05:00

Because, really, at this point what else would it be?

Ok, I suppose Frankie DeAngelis is there, too.

So there it is, no cropping to make it stronger, just some adjustments to levels to get rid of the funky yellow hue.

Not a bad way to end the year, either, at a Komets game where they win 5-1 after a game filled with mad scrambles, heart-stopping saves and a few fights from the usual suspects (and even P.C. Drouin tried selling some insurance again.)

Blackhawks win, Red Wings win, Sabres ... didn't play. In 12.5 hours the puck drops on the Winter Classic in Fenway Park. Saturday I might go to Komet Kuarters and do some retail therapy involving a jersey -- depends on whether we get blasted with lake effect snow like the talking heads were going on and on about earlier. It's a good 72-hour period for hockey in my world.

And now a few random comments:

At one point tonight during a stoppage, the puck was sitting near one of the faceoff circles and the Bloomington goalie, down in a crouch, was just staring at it like it was going to magically fly at him and he'd have to make a save. I know you guys are trained to keep an eye on the puck, but it was a timeout, there wasn't a player from either team within 20 feet of the thing. Relax.
Quad City wailed on Muskegon. *dark chuckle*
I have mixed feelings about sellout crowds. It's nice that the Komets are making money, but inevitably the people in front of and around me are the ones who constantly stand up during play and get in the way of my shots. I missed out on two good Keith Rodger fights because of them. *shakes fist*
Next time the Komets play at home, they'll be back in their regular uniforms. I'm somewhat surprised at how much I've missed the fireball.
I love the Coliseum Boulevard exit from the coliseum parking lot. We didn't get through an entire song on the radio before we were out of the parking lot and going through the light at Clinton. Just glancing south at the long line of cars on Parnell waiting to turn left gave me all sorts of warm fuzzies. Schadenfreude at its finest.
I'm making a big deal about this being the last photo of 2009 because in 2010 I'm giving Project 365 another try. I've already changed the display message on my cell phone to remind me to take a photo. We'll see how it goes.
I stopped by Mancino's before the game to pick up a Christmas present from some friends, and the gift had mushroomed from simply "A Hobbit's Journal: Being a blank book with some curious illustrations of friends and foes of the Nine Companions" into a "care package for ninja after her dental work" dealio. In addition to the lovely book I'm too afraid to write in were several cups of Jell-O, some tea, chicken soup and two 2-liters of Pepsi (which the dentist has banned me from, alas). My friends are wonderful!

And to all a good night!

Mad at myself

2009-12-28T10:58:00.000-05:00

You know it's going to be bad when the dentist's eyes go wide.

In a little less than 3 hours I go back to the dentist for an unexpected root canal. It's a blessing that I can get it diagnosed and done all in one day, since I absolutely cannot take tomorrow off work (plus, hockey game) and there's another holiday weekend coming up. And I'm going back for more throughout the spring since there's something wrong with just about every tooth.

This is going to set me back a helluva lot of money. For a few glorious days this December, I had $5,000 in my savings account. Took me two freaking years to get there. Once everything involved with this procedure is over, it'll be below $3,000, and who knows how much farther it'll go down before my mouth is fixed. So, no money for new used books, shenanigans, Mancino's, road trips to Muskegon or elsewhere (well... maybe by playoff time), or pretty much anything non-necessity for a long while.

I'm just really mad and frustrated with myself that I let things get this bad. Bad habits didn't get changed, and not having insurance was a pretty darn good excuse for not going more regularly.

I'm also banned from pop, so no $1 Pepsi products for me on Wild Wednesdays. I didn't dare ask about coffee.

Goalies!

2009-12-23T21:50:00.001-05:00

Goalies!
Originally uploaded by Lumi the Valiant (Katie)

Aren't they lovely?

Another smug sense of accomplishment

2009-12-22T11:04:00.000-05:00

Dec. 20, 2008, I broke down and got a Flickr Pro account because 200 pictures and 3 sets weren't enough. I was tired of having to decide what photos I'd have to delete to make room for more and renaming and reorganizing the 3 sets I was allotted.

Now I have about 1,800 photos up and a brazillian sets. <3

Yesterday evening just after rollover, I got my 20,000th view, double the number I had in September. Not bad for someone who isn't quite sure what she's doing when she fires up her camera. Having a boatload of hockey pictures and tagging the tar out of everything probably helps.

The bionic cop is still the most viewed.

A side effect of having a Pro account is that I'm now addicted to stats -- what's being viewed, where are the views coming from, what exactly are those "unknown sources"?. I'm not too wrapped up in the straight-up number of views, other than the milestones, more in how things are linked. And it's a heckuva lot of fun to know I'm not the only one enjoying the pics. :D

I should probably get back to work now. Lots to do before the Christmas day off.

Smug sense of accomplishment

2009-12-21T10:35:00.011-05:00

Well, maybe not smug so much, but definitely sense of accomplishment.

After seeing the all kinds of wonderful that is the Chicago Blackhawks' wallpaper page, I thought I'd take a look at what the Komets had to offer. Then I had to take a step back and ask myself why on earth I had thought a minor-league club's offerings would be similar to the national league.

Oh, right, I was still riding the euphoria of shiny Blackhawk goodness. My bad.

Unsatisfied, I took the route familiar with just about any fan of anything who has access to images and an editing program: I made my own dang stuff.

The first wallpaper was an abomination featuring an orange-to-white gradient and the 2009-2010 season schedule. (To my horror, today I discovered it's still in Google Images' cache.) Then I shook the rust off my Photoshop skills and came up with something presentable.

But Photoshop is like a sweet, sweet drug: one hit just isn't enough. After the season started, I thought, what do we need next? Why, individual player files, of course! Between summer and fall my Photoshop skills again grew rusty, which of course means the first project out of the box is an abomination:

It reminds me of Geocities. I do still like the font. Punch labels are always fun.

Finally I settled and got down to business. At first, 23 doesn't sound like a big number. I discovered just how big a number it is after wading through 1,500+ photos searching for just one really good shot of each player. (Maybe if I took better photos that wouldn't be such a problem.) I spent two months trying to pictures of Kevin Bertram and Colin Chaulk where their faces actually resemble Bert and Chaulker. Once I found the files I wanted, I had to cut the player from the background. Why hello there, 300% zoom and a small brush size, working carefully around edges, trying to figure out where the white of the ice ends and the white of the socks begins.

But after about six weeks or so, the grungy sunburst series is finished.

Smart readers will notice that there are only 22 files, but I mentioned 23 players. Matt Syroczynski isn't included because he's played in Norfolk most of the season and I have maybe 10 pictures of him total and no good ones at all. Sorry, Matt.

The point is, I'm done, done, done, DONE. Love you guys, but after awhile I'm sick of lookin' at ya.

Now I can focus on my favorite players again. I already have my next projects in mind. One is a big goalie project; the other... I'll wait until it's finished before telling much more. It involves the many goofy faces players make on the ice. Ohhhh and maybe I'll even throw together a full-fledged "Hail Larry" wallpaper for the goalie we love to hate.

This is normal, right?

2009-12-16T17:41:00.003-05:00

It's normal to argue the latitude of England over breakfast, and as soon as breakfast is finished to go grab the globe from the living room and have a mini geography lesson that shows London is a solid 10 degrees latitude farther north than we are and almost even with Moscow, right? Because that's what happened at my house this week. And I was soooooo right about it being way north.

Knowing where stuff is on this planet is fun.

Dangit, Larry

2009-12-13T20:06:00.004-05:00

Beating up my goalie is going to make it really difficult for me to continue my tongue-in-cheek heckling.

Larry Sterling vs. Tim Haun
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Wb4Df_wFKk

I'll figure out my course of action once the league decides what to do about Timmy. At least he had this meltdown during the last game before Nick Boucher comes back from IR.

Hail Larry

2009-12-12T06:17:00.007-05:00

Hail Larry, full of win, the force is with you; mighty are you among goaltenders, and ever empty is the net at your back. Valiant Larry, goaltender for Port Huron, come to the aid of your defensemen now and in the hour of their failure. Amen.

Larry Sterling is the goaltender for the Port Huron IceHawks of the International Hockey League. He's become a favorite villain in Fort Wayne, especially after the 2008 Turner Cup Finals, where he gave up the game-winning goal in triple overtime of Game 7. Fans are quick to welcome him with calls of "Larrrrryyyy," even if he isn't starting. Even the guys in the audio-visual booth get in on the fun, putting him on the big-screen Kiss Cam and playing the look-alike game with a clown image. These photos are from the Dec. 9 game, where Larry made a power statement by blocking 40 shots in the IceHawks' 4-2 win. This will of course only increase the heckling next time, but by midway through the third period the coliseum was pretty quiet. His little happy goalie dance after the final horn cracked me up.

Goalies rock -- even the ones who beat us.

Well I'm rather satisfied with myself

2009-12-10T21:08:00.003-05:00

Today has been an ultra-productive day. It started off really well: I got to sleep in until 6:30!

I've edited and uploaded my photos from last night's game; picked up some really pretty wrapping paper; oh, and baked about seven dozen cookies.

My big plan was to bake all day. It's pretty much half my Christmas "shopping", since baked goods are cheap and always appreciated. My list included Kahlua muffins, brownies, peanut butter cookies, chocolate chip cookies, snickerdoodles, almond crisps and cut-out sugar cookies.

But photos and other online things took much longer than expected, and then I had to wait from some prints to get printed. By the time I got home, it was almost 4 p.m. and I had to adjust game plan.

Right now there are four dozen almond crisps, three dozen snickerdoodles and about two dozen choco chip cookies. All made between 4 and 8 p.m. Bussssyyyyyy. And for once the chocolate chip cookies look like chocolate chip cookies. I don't know why, but every time I make chocolate chip cookies, they end up very, very thin. I add flour, still thin. I chill the dough, still thin and scary looking. I've used three different recipes, and they've all turned out like crap, even the can't-fail Nestle Toll House recipe. The one I used tonight is the best so far, but they've still spread more than I like.

So now I'm relaxing, sitting next to my little heater. These single-digit temperatures have gotta go!

Flashbacks

2009-12-09T18:25:00.000-05:00

To my surprise and delight, tonight is open-mic night at Firefly. I had known once that my friend hosted it on Wednesdays, but it just hadn't clicked in my mind that "hey, today's Wednesday!" and I'd be lurking at the coffeehouse before the game.

British got here about 45 minutes before the event to set up, and we talked and joked and injected our usual sarcasm into whatever topic was up for discussion. It was good times.

When 5:30 rolled around, she opened the event with a couple songs on her acoustic guitar, then gave the floor to a 40-something who introduced himself and said, "I fancy myself a pretty good writer."

OH GOD NO

British and I gave each other that oh-so-knowing look. We survived a semester of fiction writing class at college together. A semester filled with stories of people cutting themselves and misunderstood feelings and lots of crying. The subject matter was the least of our woes. Generally the people who thought they were pretty good writers ... weren't. Dull sentences, characters that made no sense, wild plot holes, ideas that just weren't interesting. (I've had my own fair share of all those, therefore I can rip on them.) We had to read our assignments aloud so the class could give feedback, and that's when things really fell apart. When you read a story aloud, you're not just reciting words on a page. You're performing. A monotone and awkward pacing will kill any story. You need to act the dialogue, make appropriate pauses in the expositions, even interact with the audience a bit with facial expressions.

This guy had none of the above. From what I gathered, he was starting at chapter four of a story about a Fort Wayne kid who moves to L.A. in hopes of becoming a rock star. He (the character) drove into town and went past Lamborghini dealerships and other stereotypical fancy-pants stores. Then he went to this rockin' club called the Rainbow where the hottest girls in the nation hung out, blah blah blah. It felt like an outline without any of the details. He has the character drive past some restaurant with the best milkshakes in town. Why not have him drive past In-and-Out Burger, which is legendary?

It's... it's like he hasn't done his research into L.A., the music biz, or even 20-somethings. He seems to be writing based on what he's seen in TV and movies or read in other books. He describes two characters snorting cocaine... and there's nothing to it. They did cocaine, they had sex (I believe the phrase "tongue hockey" was used during this sequence -- does anyone actually say that anymore?), and afterward the guy decided that coke was a pointless drug but he'd keep it around for the ladies.

He has an idea for a novel, but it doesn't have depth. I must confess, British and I typed notes to each other on the laptop while he was reading. It was just like fiction writing class all over again, except then we would have been in cramped little desks in the back corner, passing a sheet of notebook paper back and forth.

Now I'm singing along with British to part a Rudyard Kipling poem she set to music.

After this, I shall brave the cold and ice and wind and make my way to the coliseum!

Oh, the weather outside is frightful

2009-12-08T21:50:00.000-05:00

No, really, it's all kinds of nasty outside. This storm system is covering most of the Midwest, and for us it's leaving snow, sleet and maybe even some rain if it warms up tonight. The wind is howling, and I can feel the drafts coming through the glass in the windows. We have about half an inch of snow on the ground, but it's wet and mixed with ice. Nasssty stuff, precious. Traffic has slowed on the highway to about 40 mph, and here's hoping the plows and salt trucks are out overnight. I really don't want to drive to work at 4:30 a.m. in inches of icy slush. It's way too early in December for that.

For now the questions are: Is it going to get worse overnight? Will tomorrow be just as bad? Do I skip the game? Do I pack a change of clothes, some pajamas and cookies, and drop in on Meg and James' apartment in Fort Wayne and say "Heyyyy, guess what? Ninja's staying the night!"?

Actually... that last option sounds like a pretty good idea.

Alarm clock is set for 3:30. I'll see how traffic is moving on 30 and go from there. My motivation for getting to work when I'm creeping through Whitley County, cursing their inadequate snow removal? Tomorrow's Komets story is about Keith Rodger and his habit of naming sticks.

2009-12-07T11:40:00.000-05:00

Y'know what this is?

That is the ring of snow left on the glass after a puck slams into it. I sneaked down to ice level at last night's Komets game vs. Flint to get some pictures. I'd never been down in that section, since it's seating for people with medical and other needs.

I need to get me a medical need.

The attendant directed me to an area directly behind the goal, and holy crap, I appreciate my goalies even more now. It's obvious even in the nosebleed seats that the pucks are moving fast and hit the perimeter loudly. Move a hundred feet closer, and that six-ounce piece of frozen rubber sounds like a gunshot when it smacks the glass. I flinched several times (and prayed to God that tonight wouldn't be one of those where the glass shatters) during the first few minutes of warmups, then got used to seeing my death flying at me. (And maybe the guys got more accurate with their shots and found the net.)

Everything is louder at ice level. The skates swishing. The sticks cracking. The puck pinging off the post. It's glorious.

The Komets settled into their routine, and I had a blast taking pictures. My two biggest problems were that the guys move fast and the panes of plexiglass are held in place by thick gray metal grips that inevitably block someone's face at a key moment. I figured out how to work around the dividers, and then it became a matter of picking out my favorites and waiting for them to get into position.

I snapped about 90 pictures in those 20 minutes. Most were blah, a few were worth putting online, and some were keepers just because they had my guys. I discovered that yes, that is a soul patch Lincoln Kaleigh Schrock has going on; Tomas Klempa has some wicked blue eyes; and even more grinning and laughing than I see from up in 221.

All too soon the buzzer sounded and the last few guys lingering on the ice disappeared back into the locker room. I climbed the stairs to the lower arena and wandered over to the corner where my seat is.

No really spectacular shots from last night, unfortunately. I was tired, the game was blah and my batteries were running low.

I did catch this shot of Keith Rodger and Matt Woodard checking out the hot girls in Section 215.

Ok, maybe that's not what they were really doing, but it sure looks like it.

Also got the Schrock fight!

Ice-level awesomeness, some fun photos, and an overtime win on a goal by Leo. All in all, a fairly decent night. This truly is the most wonderful time of the year.

Tis the season to get stabbity

2009-11-19T20:27:00.003-05:00

And so it begins. We have not yet had Thanksgiving, and already radio stations have switched to the all-Christmas music format. Don't get me wrong, I like Christmas music -- on my own terms. I'll listen to favorites off an on throughout the year, but as soon as the radio starts, I get angsty. Maybe it's the way good tunes are followed by horrible fake pop concoctions. Maybe it's the reminder that it isn't the most wonderful time of the year.

Whatever it is, here's my list of the top five Christmas songs that make me go stabbity.

Simply Having A Wonderful Christmas Time -- From the moment the first chord hits the air, I'm pressing the scan button as fast as I can.
Last Christmas -- An emo ballad for Christmas? Pass.
Christmas Shoes -- The first year, it was ok. Things went downhill from there, especially when I found out there was a movie made about it.
All I Want For Christmas Is You -- Ugh... way too peppy.
Santa Baby -- The poster song for inane, plastic, Consumermas crap.

Honorable mention: "Frosty the Snowman" -- I'm slightly twitching just thinking about it.

But for every song that makes me want to claw out my eyes, there's at least one song that soothes the musical pain.

O Holy Night -- Difficult to sing well, but when it's done right, it's glorious.
Silent Night -- I've heard it in four languages and it's lovely in all of them.
O Come All Ye Faithful -- Simple yet effective
Hark the Herald Angels Sing -- Great lyrics
We Three Kings -- It took a band called Barenaked Ladies to remind me just how much fun this song can be. "Now comes the scariest verse of the song. It gave me nightmares."

Honorable mention: "Do They Know It's Christmas?," if only for the "and the Christmas bells that ring there are the clanging chimes of doom" line. CHIMES OF DOOOOOOOOM!

I'm now going to go listen to Michael Crawford sing Christmas songs and get flashbacks to Phantom.

Favorite photo from the weekend's games

2009-11-16T14:29:00.001-05:00

Even skating on one leg and partially off balance, he's still totally focused on getting the shot off.

Llamas in masterpieces, or, "Why you shouldn't believe everything on the Internet"

2009-11-14T10:42:00.001-05:00

When I was in 4-H llama club, we had to write a report on some topic that had to do with llamas and present it at one of the weekly meetings at the farm. This was always something that we put off until the last few weeks before the fair, if we could. (In later years someone got smart and set up a schedule of when reports were due.)

Topics often ranged from the different types of camelids (llamas, alpacas, vicunas, guanacos) to anatomy, wool to the uses of llamas -- the usual. Sometimes an intrepid member would stray off the beaten path and find a really interesting topic, such as rescue centers that take in abused llamas or berserk male syndrome/aberrant behavior syndrome.

The Internet opened up access to all sorts of llama resources, some credible, some ... not so much.

The year after I "graduated" from 4-H, I came back as a volunteer leader. When you've been doing something for 10 years, more than half your life at that point, it's hard to stop. During a meeting, some poor girl stood up and began to read her report. Her topic: llamas in famous artwork. After about three sentences, I bit my lip and stared at the floor, trying desperately not to gigglesnort.

She had run across a llama breeder's Web site, which had a page devoted to famous paintings of llamas. I had found the same Web site before on one of my previous excursions on the world wide web and had a laugh when I found their tongue-in-cheek gallery. I'd seen several of the original pieces and knew they had nothing to do with llamas. (Confession: "Whistler's Mother" threw me for a moment, so I looked it up even though I should have known it was a joke along with the rest of them.)

But this girl had taken everything on the Web site as the Gospel truth and read her report aloud as seriously as any other 4-Her had done that season. To be fair, she was only 14 or 15 at the time, and if you haven't had a lot of art education, you may be fooled by the pictures since some of them are quite convincing. However, Google tells all, and a quick search would've revealed a very different history of said paintings.

Ah, the Internet, creating lulz for just about anything.

Gut feeling

2009-11-13T17:22:00.002-05:00

Last night I was chilling on Twitter when @NHLBlackhawks posted a trivia question asking which of the Original Six teams Bobby Hull never scored a hat trick against during his career in Chicago. I don't know that much about Hull's career other than he was a legend in Winnipeg and in Chicago. In fact, I had a brain fade and was thinking about his son Brett at the time. The first team to pop into my mind? Montreal, for no logical reason.

Then I gave it a second thought and wondered if it was a trick question. The Original Six NHL teams are Boston, Chicago, Detroit, New York (Rangers), Toronto and Montreal. Obviously he couldn't score a hat trick against his own team, so I tweeted "Chicago?" as my reply.

Apparently I wasn't the only one thinking along those lines, because a minute or so later @NHLBlackhawks tweeted, "Okay - besides Chicago. Sorry - I should have made that more clear." I LOLed.

The answer they were looking for? Montreal. o_0

Intuition? Premonition? Pure dumb luck? We'll never know.

Sleep betrays me

2009-11-12T09:43:00.003-05:00

Last night I came up with an idea to write about for today's post. It may have been something to do with Photoshop or hockey or Glee or whatever else I was swept up with yesterday evening. I didn't write it down because I thought it was an obvious enough topic that I'd remember it in the morning.

I have no idea anymore what it was.

This is why I need to write stuff down.

#memoryfail

Language barrier keeping me from being fully entertained

2009-11-11T22:12:00.005-05:00

If I could figure out what Um Saeed says at :32 with the clapping, I think my enjoyment of the episode would improve dramatically. Not that I understand most of everything else going on, but that sequence cracks me up every time.

That, and Um Khammas' cackle -- little old lady is craaazy.

Hopped up on Coke

2009-11-07T22:24:00.002-05:00

A little too much Coke a lot too late at night means I can't sleep even though I've been up since 4 a.m. I can feel I'm tired, but I know I won't fall asleep. What this weariness+sugar buzz means is that I'm really enjoying "Mr. & Mrs. Smith" on TV despite its utter ridiculousness. Tony Kanaan spamming my Twitter feed with the songs he's listening to? Enjoying that not so much.

Awww, movie's over.

Opening myself up for ridicule

2009-10-27T19:46:00.002-04:00

Since roror asked, here are some select screenshots from my Geocities site.

This was my landing page, a sappy tribute to dead race-car drivers.

My main page, part 1 -- notice the snazzy purple tiled background.

Main page, part 2.

Main page, part 3 -- even more random stuff.

Main page, part 4 -- the bottom. The Johnny Bravo was an animated gif.

My ultra-amazing links page. I knew even back then that it was difficult to read, but I liked it anyway.

I had a section called "the library" where I posted random stories and poems. This was an epic hockey poem that I wrote during church.

And finally, my Canada page. Remember, I joined Geocities because I was hanging out in the NHL.com chatroom. A lot of Canadians were there, one thing led to another, and soon I was searching for animated Canadian flags. No MIDI of "O Canada," though, because I didn't have the patience to deal with it over dial-up.

Well, that's the five-cent tour of what was going on in my mind in 2000/2001. It's like looking at a scrapbook or photo album.

Farewell, Geocities

2009-10-26T21:20:00.004-04:00

Alas, poor Geocities! I knew it well, Blogger, a collection of horrid Web designs, of random content; it was freaking awesome at the time; and now, how terrifically bad in my recollection it is! I cringe at it. There is the HTML that I have tweaked a thousand times. Where is your scrolling marquee text now? your "Under Construction" signs? your tinny MIDI file of "Taps"? your Web rings that were wont to lead right back to the starting page? Now you are closed for good, and with you goes a chunk of Internet history.

Before Facebook and MySpace, Geocities (and Angelfire* and Tripod) was the place to be. I started my page because, after playing endless trivia quiz games in the NHL.com/Buzztime games section, those of us in the chat room would share links to our own sites, and I needed something to contribute. My Geocities page, evil_moose2003, didn't really have a theme other than "stuff I like" and the occasional rant and countdown clock (it has been 2141 days since my 16th birthday -- surprised that timer still works.)

It's horribly designed, every single page. Nothing is aligned, images are placed at random. The rants and poetry and fic contain angsty teen melodrama. There are five or six Neopets badges begging people to sign up so I could get referral points. There's a pic of whatshername, Anne Robinson? from "The Weakest Link" gameshow. There's a pic of Colby from one of the "Survivor" seasons. I have two Guestbook icons, because whatever site hosted the first Guestbook went under, so I started the second, which had significantly less responses, IIRC.

Now, when I say it was bad design, it was really bad.

This was a perfectly legitimate background for my links page, tiled of course, with white text. At 15, 16, I was still new to the Internet (heck, in many ways the Internet was still new to the Internet) and had no idea what good Web design looked like.

But the point of Geocities wasn't to win design awards. It was a place to carve out your own spot on the tubes, whether that was hockey pics, anime slashfic, 9/11 conspiracy theories or an honest attempt to put together a really informative page about Elizabethan-era dresses. It was one of the building blocks of the Internet.

*My Angelfire page is significantly better designed ... but that's not saying much, either!

2009-10-19T21:36:00.003-04:00

Ithilien, the garden of Gondor now desolate kept still a dishevelled dryad loveliness.

*le sigh*

And in just another page or so, Faramir's going to come striding out of the green forest. Then I'll be reminded of just how superior book Faramir is to Jackson's abomination of Filmamir. It's been a long time since I've done a reread, and I'd forgotten just how many wonderful lines there are.

As soon as "The Big Bang Theory" is over, I'm diving back into the book, but until then I'm going to enjoy watching Sheldon go neurotic over Wil Wheaton.

NaNoWriMo

2009-10-17T22:36:00.003-04:00

It's getting to be that time of year again. Every year since 2002 I've said to myself, "Let's NaNo." Some years I pull off the 50,000-word masterpiece (ok, once, in 2002 when I was a senior in high school and had time). Some years I think about it but don't even start. And then there are years like last year where I do serious planning in October -- plot outline, character profiles, bits of dialogue to use as later inspiration -- only to discover a week into the writing that I have no compelling plot whatsoever. Then the file gets baleeted, because try as I might, if I think something I'm working on is utter crap or is utterly hopeless, I have no will to go on. I suppose I should've worked through it or just started over, since NaNo is lenient about quality. But I digress.

This year I'm going to try the project again, of course, because that's what I do. However, this time I'm not coming up with three-page plot outlines. I'm not staying awake at night crafting characters in detail. (...Well, I might anyway, because characters are fun.) I'm just coming up with the general idea, and to heck with whether things make sense fourteen days and 23,000 words into it.

I'm down to two ideas: chronicling the lives of the city dragons that live in Fort Wayne, or following the adventures of a band of Victorian-era rich-boy thrill seekers until they run out of typical thrills and start slamming back poisoned shots.

Looking at that last graf, the first idea sounds kinda dull, but I know I can make up stuff on the fly without self-editing too badly. The second idea has more fun involved (hot-air balloon races over Austria? Heck yeah!), but I know I'll try to hard to make things sound authentic, which will just lead to massive amounts of self-editing, frustration and eventual abandonment of the story.

We'll see. Don't be too surprised if I come up with a totally different idea while driving home from the Halloween-night game. Sleep deprivation, the long road, and an overactive imagination are an unruly mix.

The absurdity of the news

2009-10-14T11:18:00.002-04:00

Every now and then, the stuff that makes news around here just wows me in its simplicity. Other cities have worries such as soaring crime rates, increasing homeless population and crumbling infrastructure.

Fort Wayne's big drama this week has been about extending the city's trash contract. It's been the lead story the past two days in both newspapers.

There are other issues going on, of course, but that this one generates so much news space makes me laugh.

The conversation as I imagine it

2009-10-10T20:03:00.005-04:00

"No, Chaulker, I don't want to hear about your foot infection again. Go take the faceoff. Go. And put on some socks*."

The full set of photos from last night's exhibition game. Someone forgot to tell Muskegon that it was just an exhibition, since they seemed to be taking revenge for losing in the cup finals. There were 71 penalty minutes issued in the first period alone.

*Colin Chaulk had a really bad foot infection last season caused in part by his habit of not wearing socks in his skates. Blisters opened, MRSA bacteria got in, things went downhill to the tune of not playing for a couple of months.

Ah, hockey boys

2009-10-08T22:24:00.002-04:00

This is my favorite photo from yesterday's game:

Syroczynski (far right) made some sort of wisecrack that got the others laughing.

This one I like because the puck isn't lost in the sticks and it features my man Leo Thomas.

More shots from the first game of the preseason.

Getting the heebie-jeebies

2009-10-07T10:38:00.004-04:00

This morning as the cold gray fingers of dawn began to scratch the eastern sky, I was shoved toward my car by the gusty west wind that whipped up the fallen leaves on the driveway. The old, lightning-struck windmill creaked and groaned away in the darkness by the pond. At times the metal screeched and moaned like a trapped, dying creature.

NOT the kind of thing I like to encounter on a dark October morning all alone. It easily filled my creepiness quota for the day.

This is why I don't work out more often

2009-10-06T12:10:00.002-04:00

I did some jumping jacks barefoot while waiting for my coffee to brew.

I impaled myself on a staple that was lurking in the carpet.

OW. I've already had to have two dozen of those shot into my shin to hold it together, so I really don't need more close encounters. But now I'm rocking a Sesame Street Band-Aid about an inch below my big toe.

In 46 hours...

2009-10-05T20:59:00.002-04:00

I'll be watching hot, sweaty guys skating around on a sheet of ice, running full speed into each other and maybe hitting each other with sticks. The blades will be swishing, the glass will be rattling and the pucks will be thunking against the boards.

Mmmm, this really is the most wonderful time of the year.

No sweet home for Olympics in Chicago

2009-10-04T20:39:00.000-04:00

I'd been waiting on Friday's vote for about two years. Chicago is a little less than a three-hour drive from where I live, so I liked the idea of having a backyard Olympics. They'd be far enough away that we wouldn't have to deal with all the hassles, yet close enough that the area would get some benefit from all the travelers passing through. Oh, and definitely close enough to make a day trip of it.

But it's just not to be. Oh well, good try. Rio made a solid appeal, and it's hard to top the fact that the games had never gone to South America.

I've been browsing various articles, and the comments sections are both entertaining and asinine. People blame Obama for going, that he wasted his time and there were more important things at home to do. Never mind that the other heads of state went, and that he can do a heckuva lot of work on his plane. Other people blame Bush, yet forget that somehow Chicago made it this far while Bush was in office. Some say Chicago's crime problems ruined its chances; apparently they don't know Rio is famous for its crime, too. And then all other sorts of wharblgrbl. It's a bit surprising that Chi-town got booted in the first round, but so it goes.

Sure, there are a lot of things that go on behind the scenes, shady deals and all, but let's face it: The U.S. had the 1996 summer games, which were bombed by a homegrown idiot, and the 2002 winter games, which were plagued with bribes. Then there were the six other times we've hosted it. Spain had the 1992 games. Tokyo had the 1964 games. Rio's tried before to get the games, Brazil's economy is surging, and the voters had the chance to make history by giving the games to a South American country for the first time.

Besides, the beaches down there are soooo much better than the ones on Lake Michigan.

Just finished: How Starbucks Saved My Life -- A son of privilege learns to live like everyone else

2009-10-03T19:26:00.006-04:00

How fitting that I picked this up from the free books shelf in my favorite Starbucks early Friday morning (tall skim no whip pumpkin spice latte). I had seen it several months ago on the clearance racks at Borders, but even then I wasn't going to pay $3 to own it. Free was the best way to go, because it's not that great. I almost feel bad about taking it back and letting some other unsuspecting reader have a go.

Michael Gates Gill, the epitome of rich white boy, grew up in a wealthy New England family and experienced the fairy tale woes: daddy was always working and didn't have time for the family, mummy had her endearing traits but is at times in denial about life. MGG has some trouble early on in school, but eventually he makes it to Yale. After Yale, he immediately is handed a spot at a major New York City advertising agency (Christian Dior, Ford, among other high-profile clients) where he spends 25 years bulldozing his way to the top. He has a wife, four kids, life is good for him.

Then his agency fires him (ah, cutting costs), he gets all glum and has an affair, which leads to the breakup of his marriage. To make ends meet, he starts doing independent consulting. 10 years later, at age 64, no clients are answering his calls as he sits at Starbucks, sipping one of the last indulgences he still has. The store is having a job fair, and a manager, a young African-American woman, asks if he wants a job. MGG immediately says yes.

From here the tale goes into his qualms about working with minorities (he knows he's the perfect picture of The Man), failing at this job, commuting on the subway, etc. Long story short, over the course of a year he becomes good at cleaning, decent at the cash register (his great nemesis), the store's Coffee Master who holds coffee-tasting events; he gets along well with most of his minority coworkers and overcomes his fears and prejudices about them; and he supposedly learns things about himself and how serving others makes him happier than he's ever been.

But... it doesn't feel sincere. He's always referencing his past life, but it doesn't comes across as, "Wow, I appreciate the cleaning lady more now that I'm scrubbing toilets with a brush." It seems more like wishful thinking that "I used to be so much more than this." Maybe it's New York sincerity -- they do most things differently than out here in flyover country.

Something that really, really irritated me was his constant name dropping. He talks about the times he met T. S. Eliot and Robert Frost at Yale, and how poetry never even entered the conversations. He describes standing in Grand Central with Jackie Kennedy and working to preserve the station. He tells about going to Pamplona, finding Papa Hemingway, and how Papa wouldn't take him seriously until he ran with the bulls, and then he ran with the bulls even though he was afraid, and then bruised and weary he found Papa again and said he had run with the bulls, and then Papa bought him a drink.

Oh, and then there was the time he was at tea with Queen Elizabeth and made the huge faux pas of reaching past her for a cucumber sandwich... Somehow, things that happened at his 93rd and Broadway Starbucks shop reminded him of all of these. Really? Are you sure about that? Sounds more like brushing up the ego and again reminding everyone that you used to be Somebody.

Maybe he has learned a lot about how us peasants live, but it doesn't really feel like it (plus, even his first day at Starbucks he likely made more than I do an hour). And with this book deal and a movie in the works, it doesn't sound like he'll be one of us much longer. In the end, being "a son of privilege" still has its perks*.

*Didn't realize the pun until after I'd written it, but then I snerked darkly.

Faking Narnia*

2009-10-01T08:15:00.001-04:00

I've decided that when I'm rich and obscurely famous, I'm going to buy a country manor somewhere in the green English hills. There will be a back door out of the manor that opens onto a stretch of cool grass before the trees and undergrowth take charge of the landscape.

Inside the stately manor, I will rip off the back of a wardrobe and set it up against the wall and that particular door. The wardrobe will store soft fur coats -- or at least heavy winter coats if furs are not an option -- and sturdy boots appropriate for tromping through the muddy and unknown wild.

I'll have set this all up in preparation for the time when the book sales are slumping, the muse is again being uncooperative and people have danced upon my last nerve, for then I will say, "Screw all y'all, I'm going to Narnia." Then I will rush to the wardrobe, grab a coat and boots, and throw open the door.

*This post is based on a note I wrote after someone sent me flair on Facebook.

(In other, unrelated, architecture designs, this morning I dreamed I was chillin' at some rich guy's house and there was a waterslide that ran along the back of the mansion and dropped the rider off into the sea. I think I'm going to use this idea for my summer house in Spain.)

Breaking out the flannel PJs

2009-09-29T21:03:00.000-04:00

We've had a sudden cold snap here. The wind has been gusting, and the daily high has been in the lower 50s. It's fall in full force. Leaves of all sizes and colors are collecting on the grass, and the clouds are low and dark. I'm breaking out the flannel pajamas because my room is on the northwest side of the house, so it usually gets a direct hit from the wind. It's a bit too early for the really cold air to come down out of Canada (ahh, Alberta clippers...), but it'll be here far too soon, I'm sure.

Last winter we had some pretty nasty nights:

Freakin' cold wind chills (and that's most definitely in Fahrenheit) just ahead of a blizzard. This was about the time we had a pipe freeze, burst and flood a room. Yeah, that was a fun thing to come home to: open the door and step in a puddle. Ugh, bad memories.

Anyhoo, fall is here, fresh chili is in the fridge, and I'm kinda craving a caramel apple. It's a wonderful time of year.

Baking for the bachelorettes, revisited

2009-09-27T15:13:00.004-04:00

7aki wanted to see the muffins, but since my friend is busy trying to get the bride to the wedding (a recent Twitter update: Bride doing 90 mph. We are an hour away from the chapel. Wedding is supposed to start in 30 min.), I don't think there's been any time to snap a pic.

So, I just made more. These are devil's food cake cupcakes, but you get the idea.

I decorated the rest of the batch and will take them to work tomorrow. A chocolate fix is always welcome in the newsroom on a Monday morning.

Nothing particularly fancy this time. Fancy will happen on the 23rd when I take Komet Kupcakes to celebrate the home opener. (Training camp starts next week, and the first exhibition game is the 7th. !!!!)

Pastor fail

2009-09-26T08:06:00.008-04:00

At the wedding yesterday evening, the pastor was going through his little speech thing, when he takes Micah 6:8 completely out of context. He just said simply, "He has showed you, O man, what is good," then moved on to something else. Ok, that's a nice sentiment and all, but that verse has nothing to do with marriage. (Well, I suppose it's "good" that they decided to stop living in sin and get married -- but that's another story.) The other 3/4 of that verse goes "And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God." The surrounding passage is Micah talking about how burnt offerings and other sacrifices aren't what God really wants, after God has once again grown frustrated with ever-wayward Israel.

Cherry-picking verses like this irritates me. If context doesn't matter, then "there is no God" (see Psalm 14 and Psalm 53, and then play the which-one-is-David's-rough-draft game) and just as scandalous, "And Jesus said unto her, Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin" (John 8:11).

Grr....

City dragon

2009-09-25T10:44:00.001-04:00

I spied a little green dragon when I drove into the parking lot at work this morning. His paper-thin wings fluttered as the breeze drifted through the alley. He sat back on his haunches and stared, tiny rounded snout tilted up, at the pale yellow streetlamp, as though dreaming of moonlight and the tops of cool mountains. Then with a lurch he waddled between the dry cleaner's and an apartment building, lost in these hot canyons of asphalt and concrete.

Baking for the bachelorettes

2009-09-22T15:14:00.003-04:00

A friend is hosting a bachelorette party, and she asked me to make some Kahlua muffins. I started with a Duncan Hines triple chocolate chunk mix and added a chopped-up bar of Ghirardelli 60% cocoa for an extra-intense chocolate experience. The recipe called for 3/4 cup of water, but what went in the bowl was about 1/4 cup water and 1/2 cup booze. I scraped the bowl after each batch was in the oven baking, and the raw mix was positively sinful.

Now the house smells like warm chocolate and Kahlua. Mmm...

I tried to find red cupcake wrappers, but no such luck in this town. Instead I used the regular ol' white papers and am going to wrap squares of red tissue paper around the muffins and tie with a thin white ribbon. When I pulled my ribbon wheel from my stash, I quickly realized I didn't have nearly enough for 36 muffins, so I'm going to have to make another trip into town this evening to get some. Just one more thing to add to the invoice under "presentation," mwahahaha.

Pirate Day, Johnny Appleseed Festival, and the fall fashion show; or, a very busy weekend

2009-09-21T14:50:00.009-04:00

Ugh, after the events of this weekend, I've learned that e-mailing, Facebooking and Tweeting in that time after the adrenaline rush has worn off and the fatigue has set in is a bad thing. You're exhausted, and not everything seems like a good idea. And while you can delete tweets and stuff on Facebook, you can't un-send an e-mail once you go "wtf was I thinking?" Maybe I should go into Google labs and see if they still have the Mail Goggles setting. Seems like it would work for mind-altering tiredness. So what got me to that point?

Saturday was one of the most important holidays of the year: Talk Like a Pirate Day. Cousin Jill and I have been celebrating for a few years now, and we've graduated from just talking like pirates to dressing like pirates for the day. Hey, if you can't be weird with your friends, who can you be weird with? This year TLAPD coincided with the Johnny Appleseed Festival (partly a re-enactment of early 1800s Indiana), which meant we could play dress-up in public without getting too many odd looks.

After the customary exchanging of loot (the highlights were a pirate monkey and a Battle With Those Red Coated Sods commemorative stein), we headed out to Johnny Appleseed Park and the festivities.

There was all sorts of tasty things to eat, such a corn on the cob, giant turkey legs, buffalo burgers, apple pie, apple dumplings, pumpkin whoopie pies, carmel popcorn, etc. Many of the food vendors were in period costume as well.

Sorry, Orville Redenbacher, but this is how you really make kettle corn.

This tends to be a loud festival, as there are several pipe and drum corps and fife and drum corps marching around playing music, as well as assorted weapons firing, such as muskets, canons and gatling guns.

I was amused by people plugging their ears while the re-enactors were still loading the muskets. C'mon, people, it's fairly obvious when the loud part is: They have to finish loading the muskets, wait for the order to aim, take aim, and then wait for the order to fire.

This guy was fantastic. Not only did he have a great uniform, but he also conducted the massed bands performance using the sword. And we heard him talk like a pirate.

Other moments that caught my attention during the festival:

Abraham Lincoln stroking a gatling gun with a "Yes, yes, with this we will put an end to their little rebellion" look on his face.

Tiny human is bored.

Other tiny humans get ready to dance around the drum.

After several hours and a bottle of homemade root beer, cousin and I called it a day and went our separate piratey ways. We were amused that someone asked us if we had a pirate booth somewhere at the festival. Now there's an idea...

Sunday morning I arose before dawn and went to Fort Wayne for fit day at Torrid. Last night was the fall fashion show, and I was one of the models. It was my second show for them (was also in the spring event), and only two or three other girls were repeat divas. The fun thing about fitting is that you can go crazy with clothes and accessories without having to worry about how you'll pay for it -- you're just wearing it for the show, not buying it. Two hours later, I had my four (!) outfits. I was originally listed to be in one of the Halloween costumes, but that got switched to dresses. Was slightly disappointed at first, but then I found a fab dress, so all was well.

One of the makeup stores in the mall offered to do makeovers for us before the show, so a half-dozen us took advantage that afternoon. While we were there, we told the ladies working all about the show, and they were miffed that they couldn't go because they had to do inventory after closing. We talked them into coming anyway. :D

We went back to the store, got into our first outfits of the night, and waited. Here's where the nerves began to set in for some of the models. Being in front of a bunch of people can be worrisome anytime; being a plus-size girl modeling clothes in front of a bunch of people, when for your whole life your culture has told you that size 0 is what's really pretty, just adds to the nerves. Oh, and the idea of walking on 4-inch heels for the first pass didn't help, either. I did what I could to help people relax, offered some words of encouragement, did some bad dance moves.

Then the show started, and after that our tranquility was over for the next 45 minutes. The first outfit is the easiest: You have plenty of time to change with store lights on. Every outfit after that: As fast as you can, in the dark. I'm bringing a flashlight if I'm in the February show again. My first three outfits I had no problem -- pants and shirts are quick to put on and take off, and so is a black dress with polka-dot trim.

Between my third and fourth outfit ("the club" look), I had only 3 girls ahead of me, which was about 90 seconds or so. My last outfit was also my most complicated: leggings, shirt, vest, necklace, bracelets, 4-inch heels, fedora. YIKES. I was barely halfway through getting dressed when the second girl finished her walk. I don't like delaying things, and I'm pretty sure there was about a 20-second gap between the third girl and me. :( Not all that big of a deal since it's just a mall fashion show, nothing professional, and I wasn't the only one not quite ready when her turn came, but still. The perfectionist in me cringes.

But the club outfit was worth the wait. I had told a friend that she wouldn't believe what I was wearing, and when I glanced over, she was trying to pick her jaw off the floor. Black leopard-print leggings, hot-pink deep v-neck shirt, black vest, peacock feather necklace, ultra-wide silver bracelet, 4-inch heel booties, and the fedora. You will never see me in that outfit in the real world. Never. It was ridiculous on me if you know how I am, but it worked so well for the look.

The person I entrusted with my camera really has no idea how to work a camera (but was the only person available to take pics for me), so every picture of me is either blurry beyond saving and/or headless/legless. Here's hoping the store employee taking photos got some good shots.

Thus, after I got home that night, after being constantly on the go for about 36 of the previous 48 hours, I was not nearly as clever as I thought I was. Sorry for any unintended confusion, creepiness, or WTF-inducing moments.

A tisket, a tasket, I broke my pirate basket

2009-09-19T09:17:00.002-04:00

Apparently the candy-filled Battle With Those Red Coated Sods commemorative stein was a bit too heavy, because when I lifted the basket by its handle, one side of the handle came out of the weaving, which then caused the leftover strand of fake Christmas lights to fall off and the purple-and-silver skull tinsel to come unwound. Oops.

Photoshop and Shakespeare

2009-09-18T22:15:00.004-04:00

Two of my favorite things came together tonight when I made my new Twitter background. It's not elaborate, but it makes me smile. But it doesn't make me smile as much as the epic pirate gift basket cousin will receive tomorrow for Talk Like a Pirate (at Johnny Appleseed Festival) Day. More on that later.

Ego boost!

2009-09-16T19:58:00.003-04:00

Oh yeah, checkmate. Ignore the rest of the statistics, look at the checkmate.

How Amazon.com ruined this post

2009-09-16T12:16:00.001-04:00

I'm taking a sanity break at work. The last hour before deadline was absolutely crazy busy on the copy desk. It's been awhile since I've been stressed like that, and now I'm paranoid I didn't catch something big and we'll have to run a correction tomorrow.

Last week I ordered some books and DVDs from Amazon.com, and like a good OCDer, I've been clicking the "track your package" link several times a day. One of their warehouses is in Lexington, Ky., not all that far from where I live, relatively speaking, so items get to me on the shorter end of the expected shipping time.

The first tracking update was normal:

Sept. 13 09:39:19 AM Lexington KY US Shipment has left seller facility and is in transit

Huzzah!

The second update:

Sept. 14 10:51:00 AM --- Arrival Scan

The --- is where my parcel has arrived. I have no idea where dash dash dash is. At this point I start getting the shakes because obviously my stuff has been delivered to a temporal rift and I may never see it.

The third update:

Sept. 15 10:27:00 AM --- Arrival Scan

0.0
My parcel has been gone from one temporal rift to another temporal rift. Now I'm devastated. Chances are the rift is up on the outskirts of Detroit (where for some reason a previous parcel was routed before going back south to my house) and I might as well give it up for lost.

That brings us to today. To help ease some of my post-deadline stress, I was going to launch a tirade about the obvious dangers of the time/space continuum on modern delivery services.

Thus,

*goes to Amazon.com* "Track your package" *click*

Sept. 16 08:33:00 AM ETNA GREEN IN Arrival Scan

Oh ... it appears Amazon has sorted out its temporal rift issue. I have a box waiting for me at home.

*mutters, kicks stone*

Bisteeya, Part II

2009-09-15T21:31:00.000-04:00

Well, this was interesting. I went grocery shopping and bought things I'd never gotten before, namely fillo dough, fresh cilantro and fresh parsley. (And a cranberry/raspberry juice drink, but that's irrelevant to the recipe.)

I started having some second thoughts when I saw how much cilantro and parsley were required. I'm not used to having them as the primary green thing in a dish, they're usually used sparingly around here. I still vividly remember my first bite of parsley salad at a Lebanese restaurant in Dearborn, Michigan. Yowza, that was intense. Right, once the greens were cooked with the chicken broth and onions, the bite eased, which was nice.

I really liked having the cinnamon mixed in with the chicken and almonds. It seemed to add a sweetness to everything ... or maybe that was the confectioner's sugar dusted on top. That was something I had to wrap my mind around: cinnamon and sugar on a main dish? That's dessert!

So, here it is:

From the bottom up: fillo dough, chicken, cilantro/parsley/onion/egg mixture, more fillo dough, almonds/cinnamon/sugar, another few layers of fillo dough, more cinnamon and sugar.

Overall, it's not bad. I won't rush out to make it again, but it was something adventurous and different on an otherwise dull Tuesday. Plus, it was actual, legitimate cooking, not just opening up a box of pasta or throwing veggies in the skillet for some stir fry, which have been on the menu all too frequently lately. Maybe next time I'll cut back a little on how much cilantro and parsley I use, or maybe substitute spinach instead? Hmm...

Bisteeya or serpent cake? Part I

2009-09-14T17:53:00.004-04:00

I'm in the mood to cook tomorrow, and right now I'm browsing recipes in a Moroccan cookbook I picked up recently. Bisteeya sounds somewhat complicated but tasty, requires a fairly long grocery list, but could also be for lunch. It has chicken, filo pastry, onions, and assorted herbs and spices. The serpent cake -- and now that I turn the page, gazelle horns -- is not as complicated and does not need extensive shopping (pretty much is almond paste and dough), but is a dessert, which means I still have to figure out what to do for lunch. I suppose I could still get the chicken and put it with some veggies and couscous that need to get used up.

I think the final decision will be made tomorrow when grocery shopping. As I suspected, my spending spree last week has come back to haunt me, so I can't go too crazy over one or two recipes. Actually, I can't go too crazy over anything, because I hate raiding my savings account just to get gas money to make it to work. This could complicate my contribution for an epic pirate party teh cousin is throwing for Talk Like a Pirate Day on the 19th. OK, rambling, must stop.

Look for Part II tomorrow, with food fotos should things turn out well.

Freewriting

2009-09-12T13:46:00.001-04:00

I'm sitting at Firefly, killing time until writers group meeting. Let's see what happens:

The cat decided the zen garden was going to be its new oversized litter box. This was just the first of Gertrude's unforeseen problems of the day. She shooed the brown-and-white feline from the yard and reached for a rake to remove the offending waste. She brushed a few stray strands of hair behind her ear and glared at the cat. "This is supposed to be a relaxing, serene space, Fru," she scolded, "not your personal toilet."

Frumious Bandersnatch yawned from his stately seat atop a tower of three leftover bricks on the patio. Silly human, he thought.

***

They stood on the steps behind the temple of Vigo, smoking furiously. The medal ceremony had been tedious enough for two soldiers more used to crawling through the mud and muttering profanities regarding the aforementioned deity than standing at attention in an opulent chamber filled with all sorts of government officials and a veritable who's who of Salderon society.

“Don't let me do anything bloody heroic ever again,” Tariq said, trying to get the last bit of tobacco to ignite.

“I didn't think it was bloody heroic,” Aldois answered. “I thought we were going to get strung up for treason.”

***

Right, so straight up freewriting turned into 100-word vignettes. Ah, well, so it goes.

Girls night out!

2009-09-09T21:38:00.002-04:00

Girls night out began with two hot chicks sipping champagne and nibbling on brownies, and ended with a pillow fight in glow-in-the-dark lingerie. And if you believe that, step away from the pr0n and take two heaping doses of reality.

Ok, fine, we did have champagne and brownies.

Girls night out on Monday actually began with about an hour of using the bed and breakfast's wi-fi, followed directly by a trip to the half-price bookstore, where I spent more money than I should have. After Tuesday's additional spending at another bookstore, I might have overdrawn my bank account for the first time ever. Oops.

College buddy Molly from Illinois was in town, and we decided to chill at a B&B because she didn't want to drive an hour to stay at someone's house, and I didn't want to drive an hour home after whatever it was we were going to do. (Besides, two queen beds, full kitchen, full bath, living room, and breakfast in the morning, right in the middle of downtown, all for $90 total is a nice deal.)

Since I had to work on a holiday, I made brownies and took them to the newsroom, because you might as well have something nice to snack on if you have to be at work while almost everyone else is enjoying the day off. There were some brownies left over, so we decided to get some ice cream and make brownie sundaes. While we were shopping, we had the bright idea to get some bubbly.

Champagne and brownies are a very tasty combination!

Thus, we sat around in the living room, sipping bubbly and enjoying dessert while singing along to Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog. And then giggling hysterically at Neil Patrick Harris singing "Confrontation" from Les Mis. I hunted down Audio Adrenaline doing the hairbrush song from Veggie Tales live in concert, but the song died about halfway through and made me sad. :(

After we left the B&B Tuesday morning, we walked across the alley to Starbucks to get some mocha and chai, then we went to a local landmark: Hyde Brothers bookstore.

It's a relatively small store with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, narrow aisles, and a basement that seems an endless maze of bookcases and nooks and ever-smaller rooms. My very first time in the basement, I got lost and couldn't find the staircase. The staircase is built into the wall, and the bookshelves are against the wall, so when I looked down the aisles, I just saw books, and more books, and more books, and no staircase back up to the light. It was scary.

Enough of that. Here's my newly acquired loot:

Making Money by Terry Pratchett, hardback (a career con man is put in charge of the city bank, eeeee-hehehe!)
The Best American Nonrequired Reading 2006 (anthology with intro by Matt Groening -- I didn't know how freakin' well read he is)
As You Like It, by that Bill Shakespeare guy (Rosalind: "Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must speak")
With Lawrence in Arabia, by Lowell Thomas, 1961 edition (the journalist discovers what happens to chocolate in the desert)
Fragile Things by Neil Gaiman, audio CDs (this will make my hour drive to work better, and I can return the hardcopy that I haven't touched in weeks to the library)
The elephant book is a sketchbook that will be going to an artist friend in Germany at Christmas.

And that was girls night out: lots of small joys, lots of talking, lots of laughing, running around town, and just having fun.

10,000 views!

2009-09-08T09:40:00.002-04:00

On Flickr.

*dances*

I've had a pro account about eight and a half months, and it wasn't until this summer that I really had anything worth looking at (Komets pics, county fair, Three Rivers Festival).

Fort Wayne's bionic cop is the most viewed picture at 392 views.

The sunflower cupcakes also got several dozen views when they were featured on a cupcake blog.

What's really fun about the stats is seeing the referrals and search terms. I've gone o.0 more than once at what people have been wanting to find.

Ahh, statistics. Good stuff.

Ok, enough with the self-congratulatory post. Will write about girls night out once the event is finished. (Plan for the day is to go to yet another bookstore.)