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Monday, January 22nd, 2007
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12:08 am - ESPN.KKKom?
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| Monday, July 25th, 2005
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1:00 am - Nothing To Fear
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There are two movies I’ve seen in my life that have fundamentally affected my outlook on life. The first was Groundhog’s Day, which taught me that I could change the way I am, and that I am not doomed to eternally repeat my own mistakes due to failngs in my own personality. I am able to change, and that change must start from within myself and not from anywhere else.
The second most important movie I’ve ever viewed is a movie I saw last week, while I was visiting my friends in New Orleans. Defending Your Life is an Albert Brooks film. In it, a neurotic man dies and is sent to a purgatory of sorts, where people are judged based on how they lived their lives. The judgments are made not necessarily on what you did with your life as much as how you lived it – specifically, did you live your life as best you could, or were you held back by that which you fear? Those who show the capacity to overcome fear, they are sent to the next plane of being. Those who lived their lives hampered by fear are sent back to live life over again.
The framing for the decision making process in the film comes in the form of a two judge/two lawyer trial. The deceased is assigned both a prosecutor and a defender, who each take key moments in the defendant’s life (flashbacks, if you will) and argue the effect of fear on that moment of time. Albert Brooks plays Daniel, and Daniel has many such days to defend. For instance, in one flashback he is accosted on a playground as a grade school student by bully who is trying to pick a fight. After young Daniel refuses to fight, though egged on by his peers, the bully tears up his school notebook and storms off. The prosecution argues that Daniel was immobilized by fear; the defense that Daniel showed restraint and was not scared, but mature for his age. Daniel himself has words to say, but the marvel of the movie is that it plays devil’s advocate on many incidents in Daniel’s life, and shows little by little just how much or how little fear Daniel has shown through his life.
I have multiple movies I absolutely love – Moulin Rouge!, Being John Malkovich, Grosse Pointe Blank, Duck Soup, The Royal Tenenbaums to name a few – but there are only two which have immediately changed the way I’ve lived my life. Defending Your Life stunned me into introspection – a mighty feat considering I hadn’t been in a place where I felt I needed to make drastic life changes. Yet here I am, and I’ve already started to change the person who I am. Just as Daniel comes to realize how certain decisions he made in his life were motivated by fear, so have I – fear of judgment, fear of failure, fear of being hurt. All of these fears began to melt away as the movie ended. I spent the rest of that day and night examining many choices I’ve made in my life – how I treat other people, how I treat myself, how I choose to live my life – and reached the decision that I was living my life stifled by fear. No longer. I’ve always done my best to confront my demons head on when they rear their heads, and now I am tackling no less than fear.
I am no longer afraid to be loved by others.
I am no longer afraid to love others.
I am no longer afraid to love myself.
I took my vacation to New Orleans needing some time to rest my body after months of running myself ragged with work and worry. I came back from New Orleans healed in spirit and with a new sense of direction as to where I want my life to lead. I am motivated not just to do my best, but to do the best that I can for myself and the people I love. It's not that I lived my life before shackled by fear - far from it - but now I am living my life by attempting to transcend fear entirely.
- Ben
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(7 comments | comment on this)
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| Monday, May 2nd, 2005
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12:35 am - Just a brief interlude
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Real entry to come shortly. In the meanwhile, here's some baseball math:
A-Rod's Salary + Kevin Brown's Salary + $10,000,000 = Beltran's Salary + Soriano's Salary + Vlad's Salary
The right side of that equation could have easily been reality given the free agent market the past two seasons. It's getting depressing to be a Yankees fan, now that I'm going through and adding up the wasted money on their roster. 3 million dollars for Paul Quantril, middle reliever. This year, Carlos Delgado is getting paid 4 million dollars. I do not think that Paul Quantril is worth 3/4ths of Carlos Delgado.
Fucking Steinbrenner.
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(1 comment | comment on this)
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| Sunday, April 3rd, 2005
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4:06 pm - It's Baseball Time!
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One hour until the opening day of the baseball season between our heroes (the New York Yankees) and the villains of our story (the Boston Red Sox). This titanic clash picks up where last year's storyline left off:
1) The Yankees finished ahead of the Red Sox during the regular season, but the Sox clinched the AL Wild Card berth.
2) The Yankees and Red Sox met up in the American League Championship Series. New York quickly gained a 3-0 game advantage in the best of seven series, but the Red Sox pulled off one (if not the) greatest comeback in baseball (if not sports) history, winning the next four in a row to take the series.
3) The Red Sox went on to win the World Series.
Fair enough. What other points of interest are in this game?
1) Alex Rodriguez slapped the ball out of Bronson Arroyo's hand during a fielding play at first base in the 6th game of the ALCS. A-Rod was called out for interference, and he has been the target of ridicule by the Red Sox nation ever since.
2) The steroid scandal broke wide open over this winter, and the poster boy for steroid abuse is none other than the Yankees fallen wunderacquisition, Jason Giambi. Last season, Mr. Giambi missed most of the season due to 'intestinal parasites' and a 'tumor', but insiders basically acknowledge that he had problems going off the juice. His health failed so badly that he was left off the post-season roster. Given that Giambi's salary tops twelve million dollars a season, the bench was not where the Yankees wanted him sitting.
3) David Wells always dreamed of being a New York Yankee. As a Yankee, he won his World Series titles, pitched a perfect game, and wrote a book about his experiences. A few years later, David Wells is the opening day pitcher for the Boston Red Sox, pitching AGAINST the New York Yankees - and Boomer (Dave's nickname) loves playing in games where he has something to prove - in this case, beating his old team.
4) The Yankees coveted 41 year old pitcher Randy Johnson all last season. They finally acquired him this off season, and he is starting tonight's game for the Yankees. Curt Shilling, a former teammate of Randy's, left the Arizona Diamondbacks in part because of the bad blood between him and Johnson. Curt would have been the opening day pitcher for tonight's game if he didn't have an injured ankle. This is a match up that will occur at some point during both the regular season and the coming post season.
Many of you didn't get to read my article about the Boston Red Sox and the commemorative World Series jersey I made for tournament organizer Mike Guptil on his birthday. The article was published November 9th of last year on StarCityGames.com, and I promptly accidentally erased the entire entry while tinkering behind the scenes on the website. Ted Knutson has graciously restored the article in its entire splendor, and if you haven't seen it you should go read it now! It's one of the few articles I was happy with that I've written and it was a joy to let my creative juices flow, so to speak.
(Click here to read "Red Sox Suck! aka HAPPY BIRTHDAY MIKE GUPTIL" on StarCityGames.com. Note: If you like the Red Sox, you might want to skip this one - especially if you're reading this entry after the Yankees presumably destroy your team on opening day in a few hours.)
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| Wednesday, March 30th, 2005
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8:29 pm - Direct TV
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I don't spend very much time watching television. The only weekly program I religiously follow is Survivor. I only have basic cable television (Local channels - ABC, NBC, FOX, CBS, etc), and this is only because Cox in my area charges ten dollars more for your high speed internet line if you don't subscribe to basic cable for - you guessed it - ten dollars. My choices were to pay X a month for internet plus cable, or pay the same X a month for just the internet. After a week of deliberation, consultations with tea leaves, and a burning of a Ouija board in an abandoned mill rumored to be the final resting place of a tormented hitchhiker, I finally went with option A: Internet plus cable.
This year, I still don't want all those extra television stations. While I don't really have a yen to watch Animal Cops or re-edited comedies on some Chicago station, I do have a desire to watch the New York Yankees play this season. Today, I put in an order for Direct TV, so that I can buy their baseball package and have access to virtually every game played by every team this season.
April 3rd.
Sunday Night.
8:30pm.
Yankees vs. Red Sox.
Home opener.
Revenger.
That is, revenge if my dish arrives in time! When I put in my order, the website indicated that there were installations available for tommorrow (Thursday) between 8am and noon. Once the order went through, this changed to "we will contact you within 72 hours to arrange a new installation". A call to their home offices revealed only that it takes up to 24 hours for an internet order to show up in their system, so I'm completely out of luck as far as expediting matters via telephone.
72 hours to get back to me. That gives Direct TV until Saturday Morning, 7am to get in touch with me to schedule the installation. The game takes place on ESPN2 at 8:30pm the following night. Math does not seem to favor the bold in this situation. Even worse, I had already started inviting people over to my house to watch the first game of the 2005 season - but now I might have to cancel these plans. Is this a case of having waited too long to order service? I hope not, because I'd assume that the start of each new sports season brings a spike in the business that these companies receive - and I'd think that after many seasons of baseball, football and basketball (how soon we excise hockey from the discussion of major US sports, no?) they would have techs on hand to speed this process.
King George, I'm trying to watch our team! Since Paul Quantrill isn't good for anything except choking to the Sox, how about sending him over to my house before the game Sunday night to do the installation himself? Sorry, that wasn't fair of me - low blow. It does have a ring to it - Call Paul to to be my thrall crawl to my wall so he can install that which lets me watch baseball.
- Ben
Update: 9:06pm. Not literally 10 minutes after the initial post, Keith from Direct TV called to schedule my installation for tommorrow! Woot! Only thing I have to do now is run to the bank quickly to pick up tip money, but otherwise I'm all set!
And now's the place to mention this other tidbit from my life: today I called up Ed McMahon to order my Publisher's Clearing House prize, but I was told by the people on the phone that my information wasn't in the system. I really need to have those millions of dollars by Sunday, but math does not seem to favor the bold in this situation. Even worse, I already spent $125 on a full season baseball package with Direct TV, leaving me with a negative balance on that prize! You'd think that with all these people calling to win ten million dollars, they'd have people on hand to expedite this process!
Hell, as long as we're getting greedy, I want a new Minivan, a season pass to the Valley View theater, and a pony.
A pony that poops pure gold.
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| Tuesday, March 29th, 2005
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12:06 am - Death by Birth Control
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I implore anyone who is sqeamish to skip this post. To everyone else, I apologize in advance.
On second thought, everyone should skip this post.
Turn back now!
(It's too late past this point - and I don't believe in LJ Cuts)
So I'm at the supermarket today, picking up groceries. Why else would anyone go to the grocery store? Apparently, to buy balloons for their infants. That's right - the person in front of me was purchasing one of those giant silver balloons for their 1-2 year old child, which of course is a big no-no. Kids that age aren't meant to play with balloons, because balloons are a major choking hazard. But it got me to thinking - how many kids a year die from choking on balloons? I did a little research:
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(From http://www.balloonhq.com/faq/health.html)
Deaths per year attributed to choking on balloons in the United States:
1973 - 12
1974 - 10
1975 - 8
1976 - 4
1977 - 6
1978 - 6
1979 - 7
1980 - 16
1981 - 10
1982 - 10
1983 - 11
1984 - 9
1985 - 6
1986 - 16
1987 - 14
1988 - 7
1989 - 16
1990 - 14
1991 - 4
1992 - 5
1993 - 7
1994 - 6
and
On December 13, 1995 both the Charlotte (NC) Observer and, probably more importantly, the USA Today newspapers briefly reported on a recent study in the Journal of the American Medical Association (JAMA) concerning balloons as the top cause of non-food choking deaths in children. According to the newspaper article, the study looked at 449 non-food choking deaths a twenty-year period, from 1972-1992. 29% of choking deaths were caused by balloons, 19% by balls or marbles, and 20% by "other toys."
This article is actually a combination of two separate studies:
A five-year study of kids who had to have a scope placed down their throat (endoscopy) to retrieve an object choking them. 165 kids. No deaths mentioned, and the endoscopy study does not mention balloons at all. The big offenders were food, 36 kids (22%), and coins, 60 kids (36%).
A ten-year study of the causes of death in children from choking on non-food items, as reported to the Consumer Product Safety Division. In this study, balloons caused 130 (29%) deaths overall. When broken down by ages, 78 of the kids were 3 or older, and 44 were younger than 3.
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Well, there were 104 deaths according to the first statistics in a 10 year period, and 130 according to the second study. Let's average these out - assume that there were 117 balloon-choking related child deaths between 1985 and 1995, or approximately 12 a year. My question is this:
How many of those deaths were caused by children who did not choke on balloons, but in fact choked to death on their parents condoms?
I mean, let's look at this objectively - some tyke gets into his parents bedroom and downs a prophaclatetic. Next thing you know, his mom finds him blue in the face and calls 911. Kid is rushed to the hospital, where he's pronounced dead on the scene. The doctors are performing an autopsy, and need to declare cause of death. Do they heap further humiliation on grieving parents by saying the kid died from eating their parents' birth control, or do they just call it a balloon?
Again, my apologies if you've read this far. These are the kinds of things I think of when I'm at the supermarket. I should really get to the second part of my California trip.
- Ben
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(3 comments | comment on this)
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| Friday, March 18th, 2005
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12:33 am - California Dreaming, Part I (of however many I need)
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It’s become a bit of a Thanksgiving Tradition that I fly out to Lancaster, California (one hour North of LAX/Los Angeles) to visit my mom for Thanksgiving. Notice the coincidence in timing – a Thanksgiving Tradition which takes place over Thanksgiving! This worked out much better than the first day of October, when ran naked around work with my wang flopping about, yelling “APRIL FOOLS!” I had plenty of time to think about the folly of delayed-action holiday celebrations after I was sent home for the day. What a shame! I had planned on rolling Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day and Father’s Day into one day of festivities I like to call “Daddy and Mommy Explain the Birds and the Bees Day.”
But I digress. My mom moved out to California after her divorce with my dad was finally finalized. Her entire family lives out there, including my grandmother (Lil, not the one who had the stroke when I was in Houston), two cousins (Laura and Michael, both adopted from India), two aunts (Sharon and Phyllis, younger sisters to my mom), and an uncle (Jimmy, who isn’t technically married to Sharon but they’ve been together forever). My other two cousins (Brad and Michelle, Sharon’s kids) drive in from Las Vegas each Thanksgiving, so it’s a pretty busy get together.
This Thanksgiving was going to be extra special, because one of my best friends in the whole world, Nick, was going to come out to California with me! Nick lives in New Orleans, and I only get to see him maybe two to three times a year, so having a full week to catch up with him was a big deal to me. Usually his family has a big Thanksgiving dinner (in New Orleans, with him, his older twin brothers Anthony and Chris, and all of our mutual friends) but this year there were no such plans. Nick and I started coordinating the California trip around June.
Me: “So, when are we going to fly out?”
Nick: “I’m not sure yet, when can you fly out?”
Me: “I’m pretty much free any day before Thanksgiving. Why don’t you book your tickets first?”
Nick: “Ok. But when should I fly out?”
Me: “Whenever you want – I’ll book my tickets around yours.”
Nick: “Sure thing. This is going to be a great trip.”
Two week laters:
Me: “Have you booked your tickets yet?”
Nick: “I haven’t done it yet – when are you flying out again?”
Me: “I’m not booking my tickets until you book yours!”
Nick: “Oh, that’s right. When should I book them for?”
Me: “Whenever you want Nick!”
Nick: “Sure thing! This is going to be a great trip.”
The very next day:
Nick: “Hey Ben, when are you free again?”
Me: “ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!!!”
Wash, rinse, repeat until mid-October. That’s when Nick’s parents decided that he and his brothers should spend Thanksgiving up in Philadelphia (their home city) with their grandparents. Even though we had planned the California trip already, the lack of concrete tickets forced Nick into familial obligations.
Sigh.
All was not lost though! I finally went ahead and booked my tickets, so that I was flying out the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, and flying back home the following Tuesday. Nick scheduled his flight out of Philadelphia for the Friday after Thanksgiving, so we’d have nearly a full week to hang out in California. I’d get to have the family dinner, he’d get to have his family dinner, and all was well in the world.
Almost all.
You see, I had been contacted by Upper Deck Entertainment to do tournament coverage for a large card game tournament they were holding in California on December 2nd through December 5th. They booked my tickets for me around the same time I booked my own tickets for the Thanksgiving trip. If I had been paying attention and not been stressed out by all the last minute changes to scheduling, I would have noticed the following:
Fly out to California (LAX): Wednesday, November 24th
Fly back to Roanoke: Tuesday, November 30th
Fly out to California (LAX): Thursday, December 2nd
Fly back to Roanoke: Sunday, December 5th
Any smart person would have just stayed in California and saved themselves two extra days of travel time. Not me! I managed an itinerary that was the worst possible given every scenario in booking that I could have made. Still, I was psyched about Thanksgiving, seeing my family, seeing Nick, and about having time off from work in general.
Mother Nature, however, had other plans in store.
(To Be Continued. How Exciting!)
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| Wednesday, March 16th, 2005
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10:41 pm - King George, Why Hast Thou Forsaken Thine Flock?
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There has been a conspicuous lack of updates in this journal over the past few months. The last post (dated October 13th, 2004) was me gloating about the Yankees abusing the Red Sox in the 2004 ALCS. The night after that post, the men in the pinstripes took Boston to the cleaners by the tally of 19 to 8.
Things did not go so well after that point.
Let’s not dwell *teeth gritting* on the *hives breaking out* monumental collapse *eyes swelling* of the Yankees in four *ARRRRRGH* straight *$#&*$&#* games. I’m not bitter. I am NOT bitter. I refuse to be bitter.
Fine I’m bitter. All was right in the world – the Yankees were set to beat Boston, as they’d been doing for decades. The Red Sox were on the brink of collapse, as usual – and then it all turned around. It wasn’t just that the Red Sox beat the Yankees, which in and of itself was an amazing feat on their part. No, it was that the Yankees collapsed wholly and fully, chocked worse than any team had ever choked before, and that Payrod showed his true colors as a born loser.
My dad was a Yankees fan, and his dad was a Yankees fan, and losing to the Red Sox wasn’t so much about losing in a rivalry – it was about breaking with three generations of tradition. Year in, year out, there was a constant – the Yankees were going to beat the Red Sox, or that the Red Sox were going to beat themselves. Three generations of Bleiweiss males had lived in this tradition, and then it all came crashing down.
I understand that Red Sox fans are jubilant about finally winning. There are generations of Red Sox fans who finally saw their team win the big prize for the first time. What they don’t understand is that there were an equal number of Yankees fans who finally saw their team lose to the Red Sox in the big game for the first time. I’m not angry at the loss – it’s just a complete shock to the system. It’s like you’ve been taught that there’s no life on other planets only to be visited by Martians on your 29th birthday. Martians with choking ray-guns.
Damn you Boston Red Sox. You’ve ruined my family tradition of Yankee victory by ruining your tradition of Red Sox futility.
I picked up a copy of Where Have All The Yankees Gone, a non-fiction work which traces the lives of several former Yankees in their post baseball careers. Some (Ryne Duren, Moose Skowron, Ralph Terry) are names I recognize from when my dad I and collected old Topps and Bowman baseball cards. Others (Pags, Graig Nettles, Andre Robertson) are players I listed to on the radio late at night during middle and high school. I'd often go to sleep during the broadcast of these games (both on channel 11 or on 770am in NY) and wake up in the morning to read the box scores in Newsday. These are the players of my childhood, and now with this book I will have some insight into what sort of men were behind the game. I'll let you all know whether or not I recommend the book as I finish it.
Oh, and regarding the subject of this entry: I know your heart is in the right place George. You want your team to win more than your fans want your team to win. You've just been blinded by the stars while your competition has their eyes on the moneyball.
- Ben
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| Monday, March 14th, 2005
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12:07 am - Identity versus accomplishment
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I have been working too much over the past couple of years - and I say this not because of how much time I put into work, but because I am starting to find it difficult to seperate who I am from what I do. It's becoming increasingly unhealthy for me to derive as much self-worth and self-accomplishment from work as I have increasingly been doing, and so I'm going to resume updating my journal for the forseeable future to get in touch with myself, outside of a work environment. When I used to see a therapist, she would urge me to get more in touch with my emotions. WEll, here goes - instead of burying them beneath work an accomplishments, I'm pulling them out and I'm feeling aliented and lonely right now, and I'm starting to get fearful that I'm losing opportunities in my life - 30 is just around the corner this November and what do I have to show for the first 29 years? I've been focused too much, all my life, on what I do, and not enough on who I am.
- Ben
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| Wednesday, October 13th, 2004
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8:37 pm - Who's your daddy?
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While I was watching the Yankees demolish the Red Sox for a second night in a row, the following occured to me:
Fox Sports was broadcasting the New York/Massachusetts game and the Missouri/Texas game, whereas every other station seemed to televise the Massachusetts/Texas game. Too bad, in reality, that game will be a New York/Missouri contest.
- Ben
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(comment on this)
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| Monday, September 13th, 2004
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6:56 pm - Election Day
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I am friends with two married people. The wife is a staunch Democrat and plans on voting for Kerry, while the husband is a staunch Republican and plans on voting for Bush. Today, I was in the car with the lady of this pair, who confided in me that she was plotting ways to convince her husband to not vote for George W. this year.
"Maybe I should tell him that if he votes Republican, he's not getting any," she mused.
"Just tell him he's voting for which bush he gets for the next four years," I replied.
- Ben
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(3 comments | comment on this)
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| Tuesday, July 20th, 2004
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10:58 pm - Flash movies for your perusal
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I'm a big fan of flash movies. The best repository of them I've found on the internet is at Albino Black Sheep. There are hundreds if not thousands of videos there, each a testament to a person (or group of people's) skill and fortitude in bringing their visions to life across the internet. These are like the music videos of the modern age, and while most of them are crude (either in content or animation), I find them charming. There's just something about one person dedicating a ton of their time to creating, no matter how crude their creation, that gets me right in the heart. I've always enjoyed Midi and Mods (primitive music formats) when MP3's and CD's are readily available, because they are testaments to one person's dedication. Likewise, here are a few flash movies that I think you all should check out.
The first one is Ddautta, created by three Koreans who go by the name SamBakZa. This is probably my favorite animated flash movie on the internet. It's a charming piece about.... well, go watch it and decide for yourself. The beauty of this piece is that you can take one of any number of messages from viewings. Is it about interracial relations? Cross-cultural barrier crossing? Dating outside your economic barrier? Love at first sight? It works on a number of levels, and the clarity of these multiple meanings is simply amazing given the international creation of the video.
The second flash is one that harkens back to the beat poet movement. Entitled Samsung Means to Come, this flash movie has no graphics. Instead, it relies on music and words to set a tone and ambiance. Young-Hae Chang has done several other pieces online, but this is my favorite by far. It's a reading in three acts, so make sure you stick around for all three. This is the type of multimedia expression I'd love to come up with on my own - the timing, pacing, and word choice involved in this flash are simply incredible. But how do I come with Samsung?
The last one is one I've been watching recently. It's by a band named "Horse the Band", and the song is titled "Bunnies". The lyrics are a little hard to understand, but they can be found here for those who like to know the message behind what they're hearing. Long story short, the lyrics aren't really that great, truth be told. They reek a bit of senselessness, and the music itself isn't that great on its own. The visuals that were created to go with the song make the entire package work - a lot of the anger and frustration from the song are really played out well in with the pictures, making the sum of the two greater than the individual parts. The stair climning sequence is just pure brilliance and an amazing visual commentary on the futilty of chasing after material goals.
There are dozens of other flash movies I'd love to recommend, but these three are the ones you should go check out first. Go forth and be flashed!
-Ben
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| Thursday, July 15th, 2004
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12:33 am - How Northwest Airlines ruined Christmas.
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Tonight was the night that my girlfriend Kate was supposed to get back into town from Maine. She'd been up there meeting a group of people who were into Tom Robbins (the author), and I was supposed to pick her up on connecting flight back from Detroit to Roanoke.
Note the sporadic use of the words "supposed to."
I arrived at the airport 20 minutes early, and parked my car in short term parking so that I could meet Kate near her gate. Inside the terminal, I was struck with a certain giddyness - it'd been about 5 days since I saw her last, and it struck me that I was really excited and nervous at the same time to see her again. I felt like it was my birthday, or Chanukah (or Christmas, for you goyim out there), and that my present was about to arrive! I felt warm inside and happy and couldn't wait to hug Kate and kiss Kate and.....
And then the flight was cancelled.
That's right, five minutes before the flight was supposed to arrive, at 10:45 pm, the Northwest announcer declared that the flight from Detroit had been cancelled.
Never mind that the electronic boards still read the flight was arriving.
Never mind that there were several other people at the gate awating their loved ones, including an entire cheerleading squad who had come out with banners for one of their own who was returning from a major competition.
Nope, apparently the Northwest crew that day had worked too many hours, and there was not enough staff left to man the flight back from Detroit. This meant that Kate had been moved to a flight tommorrow, at a time when I would be at work. Her brother will probably pick her up, and I won't get to see her until tommorrow night - and then this weekend I'll be in Richmond for work, so it'll be even a few more days until I see her again.
As I left the parking lot, I felt a great sadness. I had a great anticipation of seeing Kate again, and Northwest Airlines had stuck a pin in my balloon of expectations. I drove home fairly stunned, and there were no messages on my answering machine.
So in short:
I'm a lot more in touch with my emotions than I used to be. That I'm this dissappointed in not seeing Kate tonight when likely I'll see her tommorrow, but I wanted to pick her up tonight, and be the one to meet her at the airport, and then drive her to her car so she could drive home - that's an entirely other sign. It means I miss you baby, and I want to see your face again and hear your laughter and be together with you again.
This, dear readers, is entirely how mushy I am iwhen I let my guards and walls and protectiveness down and let someone inside my personal world.
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| Tuesday, July 13th, 2004
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9:44 pm
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I'm starting a new blog feature (entitled Blogg Fanatic) at StarCityGames.com as of Wednesday's update on the site. It's going to be a daily feature that revolves around the world of Magic, but is not necessarily about the game itself. Even if you're not familiar with Magic, I recommend you go check it out - a lot of stories that would otherwise be in my journal are going to find their way there, now that I'm forcing myself to write every day.
- Ben
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| Tuesday, June 22nd, 2004
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12:48 am - There is no God.
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Congratulations! You have been selected to participate in the World of
Warcraft™ beta test!
To create your account, please go to the URL listed below. You will need
the Authentication Code provided and the email address you used to sign up
for the beta (which is the same one that you just received this email at).
............Except I leave for the Origins Game Convention for work tommorrow night (Tuesday) at 8pm.
Let's see - 10 hours of play, and then show up at work, and then drive 6 hours to Ohio - NOT HAPPENING.
WHY GOD WHY?
But wait! There's more!
Met someone online who I really clicked with - plus she is around my age and doesn't have any kids!
.............Except I leave for the Origins Game Convention for work tommorrow night (Tuesday) at 8pm.
WHY GOD WHY?
But wait! There's more!
When I get back from Origins, I am taking a week vacation to Atlanta (I'll be there from June 29th until July 5th). If you want to hang with me, e-mail me at bleiweiss1@cox.net (except for Karen, Warren, Suzie, Adam and Brooke, all of whom I've already contacted). If you're going to be at Origins this weekend, please stop by the StarCityGames.com booth to say hi (this means you, Mary!)
And then 14 days from now I will get to play Worlds of Warcraft.
Ok, enough self-righteous bitching - I appreciate that I have a good life, with a good job, good friends, and a WOW Beta account.
A few days of waiting will just make the initial login that much sweeter...
And my first date with Kate that much more enticing....
And I'm going to go to bed now - my days of staying up until sunrise playing MMORPGS were over years ago.
Ben
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| Thursday, May 27th, 2004
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12:03 am - Take two and call me in the morning
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I have two journal posts in the works, one which is an informative jaunt through musical history, and another which reflects upon my current views of feminism.
Those are neither here nor there.
Instead, I bring you a matter of Earth-shattering proportions:
Matt's bag of never-ending jellybeans.
Matt Villamaino (pronounced like it's spelled) is our newest hire at StarCityGames.com. He's an import from the mean streets of Boston, and is a homeboy that would get your back in a knife fight.
Well, more like he's a fencer in the SCA, but Matt's a good guy and I say this because he both has many sharp metal objects to performate my soft flesh with, and because he brought this bag of jellybeans down with him from Boston. This isn't just any bag of jellybeans - this bag has all SORTS of flavors of jellybeans - like it came straight out of Harry Potter and into our humble offices.
The Villamaino (pronounced Emm-Aye-Tee-Tee) bag of jellybeans is never ending. It's been nearly two months since Matt's arrival, and we're just now seeing the end of the bag. You'd think that with an arbitrarily large number of employees all freely pilfering sweets from the jelly bag that we'd have finished them off - but no! Instead, each day, we find the bag still there, unfinished. This leads me to one of three conclusions:
1) Matt is coming into the offices first each day and refilling the bag, in an attempt to fatten us all up for the slaughter.
2) Hours spent at work have caused me to hallucinate - I only think other people are eating the jellybeans.
3) We have a rodent problem, and those aren't jellybeans.
#3 would explain why so many are licorice flavored.
When we first started on the bag, the advertising on the packaging proclaimed FIFTY-SEVEN UNIQUE FLAVORS! Among these were old fruity standbys such as Cherry, Watermelon, Grape, and Strawberry. In addition, we had more exotic flavors: Root Beer, Butterscotch and Kiwi Lime were among those. Then there were some completely off-the wall flavors. I'm not sure what the "Road kill Rhapsody" or "Battery Acid Trip" flavors are supposed to taste like in nature, but I've learned to avoid them.
Well, I've gone through all fifty-seven flavors. When you grab a handful of jellybeans from the bag, it's pretty much pot luck. You're not going to sit there with the flavor key, picking out the pink candies with the yellow spots but keeping the pink candies with the blue spots. No, you're going to eat them all and hope for the best.
In the beginning, I got the best!
Mmmmm, Grape!
Mmmmm, Cotton Candy!
Mmmmm, Six Ounce Filet!
Lately though, I've come to avoid the bag. While I personally don't pick and choose, I'm beginning to think that other people have taken certain liberties in avoiding the less palatable flavors of jellybeans. In contrast to my early experiences, I think the last three flavors of jellybeans I ate were, in order:
1) Ass
2) Double dip Ass
3) I Can't Believe It's Not Ass!(tm)
Suitably, I've avoided the jellybeans for a few days now, but the good lord knows that as soon as we finish the bad, good ol' Matt Villamaino (pronounced Smith) will be back with a grand new adventure for our taste buds.
Next time, I'm getting to work first and pulling out all the blue jellybeans for myself.
NEXT UP: The meaning of life, a dissertation on entomology, and/or something completely unrelated to the two.
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| Friday, May 21st, 2004
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7:50 pm - Stick Shift
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A couple of years ago, I went down to Miami, Florida to visit my Grandmother (on my dad's side) for her 80th birthday. This was a few months before her stroke (see below for that story), and my dad had entreatied me to come meet him and his wife in Florida for said birthday. My brother Jon is a cop right outside of Miami, and so I stayed at his apartment for the duration of my trip.
Did I mention the ex also lives in Miami?
I'll have stories enough about me & Pam in later entries, but for now it'll do for me to say that I was really looking forward to seeing her that trip, even though we hadn't really talked much over the years. We arranged that I'd meet that night at her friend's house. My brother was on patrol that night, so he lent me his ride (a Lexus - he had scored big during the days of the internet boom and sold off quite a few profitable domain names including Rap.com and others for a tidy sum of money. He sure wasn't affording that Lexus on a cop's pay).
Saturday night comes, and I was off to see Pam! Just one snag.
His Lexus was a stick shift.
I'm a pretty decent driver (if you've ever driven with me, you're not allowed to post to this journal entry. SHUT UP! SHUT UP! I'm a good driver dammit! I hate you all!). I also grew up driving mini-vans, I own a mini-van now, and I've never driven a stick shift before.
Almost.
You see, I'm also a big video game buff, and I spent many an hour playing Pole Position and Pole Position II in the arcades, along with a little Need for Speed on my computer. After years of video game driving stick, how much more would I need to learn? It was time to learn stick shift on the fly!
I thought I was doing a really good job driving around Miami, but apparently all the other drivers on the road did not. I have to admit, the car was sputtering and wheezing an awful lot on my journey to downtown Miami, and it didn't help that I got lost.
(Aside)
A few weeks ago, my boss Pete went out of town and I was left the task of running a Magic Tournament for him in Richmond. "Don't worry Ben", he assured me, "I have perfect directions for you - it's just three turns and you're there." The directions were simple enough:
1) Turn onto I-81 North.
2) Turn onto I-64 West.
3) Turn off at the Hotel exit, whereupon I'll be straight at the Holiday Inn in Richmond.
Do you see the problem yet?
If you're not familiar with the geography of Virginia, Roanoke is to the Southwest of Richmond. Going West on I-64 would put me in the vicinity of Richmond, West Virginia. Richmond, West Virginia is considerably less populated the Richmond, Virginia, the capital of Virginia state.
Because of my totally awesome sense of direction, my common sense didn't tingle until I was a mere six miles from the West Virginia state line. Sensing danger (and an extra hour and a half on my trip), I pulled off at exit five and pulled into a gas station.
Me: (Innocently) This might be a stupid question, but which way is Richmond from here?
Gas Station Lady: (Verklempt) New York City?!?!? STRING EM UP!
Joy.
(End Aside)
In finally find Pam's friend's house, and we have a rollicking good time drinking wine, watching Gattaca, and playing Taboo. When it's time to go home, I manage to figure out my brother's Global Positioning System, and it tells me how to get directly from my current location in Kalamazoo, Michigan all the way to Cleveland, Ohio.
I am not a fan of the GPS.
I finally limp the car back to my brother's house, proud at having learned stick shift in one night. How special! Years of video game playing really did pay off, and a real-life skill was realized through effort, belief, and a little luck.
A week later, my brother's transmission dies.
"It really sucks", he said to me on the phone. "It's going to cost a couple of thousand dollars to fix the car."
"Man, it costs a lot to fix a stick shift!"
Pause.
Awkward pause.
Really, really awkward pause.
"My car's an automatic, Ben."
Pause.
Awkward pause.
Really, really awkward pause.
"I gotta go *CLICK*"
Ben
NEXT UP: A music lesson straight from the sixties!
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| Sunday, May 16th, 2004
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10:28 pm - Nuts & Berries
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I'm not what you'd call a heavy drinker - I drink maybe six to ten times a year tops, and that includes having a glass of wine with dinner. I'm also quite physically intolerant of rum, so I tend to stick to drinks based around either really sweet liquors or that have a vodka mix. My absolute favorite drink in the world is Nuts & Berries.
Nuts & Berries:
3 parts Bailey's Irish Crème
1 part Chambourd
1 part Frangelico
Nuts & Berries is a really sweet drink, and one that I find especially delightful for my drunkening purposes. Unfortunately, I've been informed by several of Crystal's friends at her wedding reception (remember Crystal? If not, scroll a few posts down for details of Crystal's wedding!) that Nuts & Berries is a really foofy woman drink and that I need to drink more manly fairs.
Fuck that!
If I'm going to drink an arbitrarily small number of times each year, I'm going to drink an alcoholic mixture that I know I'll like. Be it Lemon Drop, Buttery Nipple or N&B, I'll take one straight up, on the rocks, or as a shot when and where I see fit.
But in the spirit of being more of a ***MAN!!!*** (note the significance inherent in this solitary word), I propose that my next round of libations consists of the following drinks:
First Round:
Nuts & Barry's
3 parts Barry's Irish Crème
1 part straight from Barry's Nuts
1 part sweaty jockstrap juice (tm)
Wow, quite a warm up for a more ****MANLY!**** drink! That's just a chaser though. Can you survive round two?
Second Round:
Lug nuts & Batteries
3 parts Italian Import
1 part Ferrari Testosteronsa
1 part gross overcompensation
Woooooooooo! Feel the burn now baby! If'n I aren't the granddaddy of all studs now, then yer pappy was a lying son of a bitch! I have all these awful memories of drinking fruity cocktails though, so maybe a third helping will chase away those memories and make me more *****MASCULINE!!!*****
Third Round:
Nuts & Phalluses
3 parts hairy foreskin
1 part chocolate starfish
1 part engorged male member
I ARE TEH **MAN** NOW! *MAN MAN MAN* FOR I ARE DRINKERING **MANLY** DRINKERS! I R NEED MORE MAN IN ME!
Fourth Round:
Obligatory Euphemisms and Oblique Metaphors
3 parts snake in the grass
1 part blossoming rosebuds
1 part J. Edgar Hoover in his Mary years.
I better go lie down. All this manly alcohol has gone straight to my heads.
Next up: Feminism & Me
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| Thursday, May 6th, 2004
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10:19 pm - On Every Street
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There's gotta be a record of you someplace
You gotta be on somebody's books
I met Megan Seltz during summer school of my junior year at Tulane University. How can I describe Megan to you? It’s all bits and pieces now, because I haven’t seen her in years. The last time was passed ways was a year after we first met, her sitting on her boyfriend Ian’s lap in a pizzeria in New York City. I was still jealous then. I didn’t get it.
The lowdown - a picture of your face
Your injured looks
The sacred and profane
The pleasure and the pain
I met Annette Graumann after I had broken up with my girlfriend (a story for another time) through a mutual friend John (different John from the ones mentioned below). How can I describe Annette to you? The last I talked to her was a year later, when she had moved back to New York City to take care of her belittling and neurotic mother. The same mother who had systematically destroyed every ounce of Annette’s self esteem.
Somewhere your fingerprints remain concrete
And it's your face I'm looking for on every street
Megan lived for her music. She played guitar, and had the most heart-melting smile I’ve yet to see in my life. She had a tattoo on her lower belly, took a road trip to Tallahassee with me from New Orleans over a weekend, and had overcome a lot of obstacles in her life (of the kind I would not talk about publicly without her permission) to become a happy person. She had her boyfriend, who visited from New York and was arrested for smoking pot in the dorms on his first night there. Megan had a musician mentor in New Orleans who insisted on favors in exchange for lessons. Megan had attended Vassar University, and I wish I had just wanted to be friends with her, because now I don’t know where her life has taken her because I couldn’t cope with the fact that she just wanted to be friends with me.
A ladykiller - regulation tattoo
Silver spurs on his heels
Says - what can I tell you, as I'm standing next to you
She threw herself under my wheels
I met Annette through my friend John, who was very attracted to her but at the same time lacked the self confidence to make a move. I saw Annette for something else – a much damaged human being who had self esteem issues, and coped with it through cocaine and alcohol. Annette was also very intelligent, extremely attractive (model quality looks and body), and constantly talked about how fat and stupid she was. I cooked her meals through that whole summer, showed up to her house to get her out of bed in the mornings so she wouldn’t fail out of summer school, and was every bit the friend to her, even though there was some mutual attraction. That wouldn’t have been right – I wanted to help her get her life together, and then she left school to move back to New York City to be with her mother, who had been the root of most of her problems – or at least the initial cause. We make our own decisions in the end.
Oh it's a dangerous road
And a hazardous load
I think about Megan every now and then and wonder how she’s doing. I imagine that she’s happy now, playing for a band or in a coffee house or in the music industry and has made peace with her past.
And the fireworks over liberty explode in the heat
I think about Annette every now and then and wonder if she’s still alive. I imagine she sunk into prostitution and drug abuse in New York City and has since died or damaged her life beyond repair.
And it's your face I'm looking for on every street
A three-chord symphony crashes into space
The moon is hanging upside down
I don't know why it is I'm still on the case
I grew up around music. Music is very personal to me, which is why I don’t often go to concerts. I absorb the vibrations of the music, devour the lyrics, and in return the music brings me memories and emotions. I appreciate the music and it rewards my devotions. Tonight Tonight (Smashing Pumpkins) reminds me of my trip to Duke University to visit a college friend. Just a Girl (No Doubt) reminds me of my final trip to New York after finally committing to finish school in New Orleans.
It's a ravenous town
And you still refuse to be traced
Seems to me such a waste
In 1991, Dire Straits released their album “On Every Street”. Ever since I’ve heard the title song years later, it reminds me of Megan and Annette. I wonder how they are doing. I hope they are happy. I hope I am right about Megan and wrong about Annette. I wonder if they’ve ever thought of me, if they remember me or wonder how I’m doing.
And every victory has a taste that's bittersweet
I wish I could share this song with each and every one of you. Though the technology exists that you can touch a piece of my emotions as you read this story and listen to this song, it is not legally allowed that you may do so. Piracy is stealing, and that I agree with. That does not lessen the fact that I am unable to convey the full range of longing, sadness and hopefulness that I feel when listening to this song, any more than my words upon this page. And for this inadequacy, I apologize.
And it's your face I'm looking for on every street
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| Monday, May 3rd, 2004
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8:31 pm - Viva Las Vegas!
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5) The Wedding
After a nice lunch the following day at Margaritaville, John and I headed down to Pete and Crystal's wedding at Caesar's Palace. If you're already lost, go read the previous entry! Too lazy? Here's a recap:
John is my gay lover of 14 years.
Pete is my former gay lover previous to John.
Crystal is Pete's first cousin from West Virginia.
But I digress.
The wedding itself was quite wonderful, with Crystal looking very beautiful - and both Pete and Crystal were beaming! I don't think I've ever seen anyone 'beam' before, but the look of love and happiness in their eyes was overwhelming, and I'd like to think the day truly lived up to all of Crystal's fantasies of her wedding day.
After the ceremony, Ferrett, Gini and I went down to the reception area as per the wishes of Crystal's written wedding instructions. Little did we know that we were supposed to stay behind to take wedding pictures with the family! Well, that didn't stop John who apparently (from the photos I've later seen) managed to wedge himself in between A) Crystal and her grandfather, B) Pete and his dad Pete Senior, C) Crystal and her mother, D) Pete and his sister, E) Crystal and Pete, F) All in the same photograph.
The Japanese refer series as "Omnipresent Superdominating Gambler Neo Part II"
6) The Wedding Reception
Eventually everyone works their way down to the wedding reception area, where Ferrett, Gini and I have all been vicarious living through the wedding experience by taking advantage of the open bar. At our table are seated myself, Ferrett, Gini (how we've suddenly become this inseparable three headed entity I know not, but there we were, forged by a common bond of alcohol), John, John's absentee girlfriend (Ginger, who had left to go back to Virginia to her husband and children a couple of days earlier. This John guy keeps getting better and better, no?), and two of Crystal's college friends: Ellen and Mary Sue Joe Bob Mary Ann.
Ok, I don't remember her other friend's name, but I'm sure it was something suitably monosyllabic yet verbose.
During the toast, Pete informed us that his fly had been down during the entire ceremony.
7) The after Wedding Reception
AKA
Gambling time!
We arrange to meet at the Shadow Room post party, which was this bar in Caesar’s where girls dance nude behind screens, so that you can see their silhouettes yet no obscenity laws are being broken. That is, assuming you believe there are obscenity laws in Las Vegas - whenever we were on the strip, there would be cars driving around simply to advertise in-room escort services. Ferrett wanted to try the two for one special. Gini insisted that he could only if she could try it out first to make sure it was 'safe' for him ;)
I think they weren't serious.
Anyhow, we end up heading to the Shadow Bar and hating it, so myself, John, Crystal, Pete, Pete Sr. (Pete's dad), Sue (Pete's mom), Henry (see last entry) and Beth (see last entry) end up gambling on the casino floor, along with Pete's sister Tracy.
Somehow or another Tracy and I hit it off really well! We ended up playing the Wheel of Fortune slots together for a few hours, hitting a $300 and $1000 jackpot (and splitting the money down the middle). Henry and Pete Sr. came by to watch us gamble, and saw the fun we were having together.
Henry: "Ah, that's what I like to see."
Pete Sr.: "What do you mean?"
Henry: "Young love. We might be here again soon senior, you know for another...*ACK*"
At this point Henry could not continue his sentence, as Pete Sr.'s fingers had clenched tightly around his throat.
Senior: "TAKE THAT BACK! TAKE THAT BACK YOU BASTARD!"
Henry "Ack! *whimper* I'm sorry senior! I'm sorry!"
Keep in mind that Henry is a large man who bounced for a living for over a decade, whereas Senior is a 170 year old man who hadn't gained weight since he lost his right leg in the battle of Appomattox.
As an aside, I really did enjoy Tracy's company that night - especially when I cashed in the $1300 vouchers and handed her six hundreds on the casino floor.
"You do know what this looks like, right?"
Got to love a girl with a sense of humor.
Too bad I found out a week later that she was seeing someone already. Last time I ask someone's dad to hook me up with their daughter.
8) Lights Out
On Sunday, John and I went to the Bellagio for their awesome breakfast buffet. I'd like to report that this meal ended in foodgasm, but in a freak accident the Bellagio has lost all power and the entire casino was shut down! It was honestly one of the neatest things I'd ever seen - the entire floor of a casino darkened and empty except for a couple of tables of poker and blackjack players. Rows and rows of slot machines lay dormant and vacant as far as the eye could see, and dozens of Italian Mobsters lined the rows ushering the customers of the casino out the doors.
9) More Gambling
Later in the day everyone (see above) hooked up again, along with Crystal's last college friend in attendance, Amy (Aimee? Ayiiiiii spelling changes!) John decided he wanted to hook up with Amy, since A) his married girlfriend wasn't in town, B) All of Crystal's other friends had left that morning C) Pete's mom was married, D) Crystal was married, and E) Amy had a pulse. All of these factors led to his touching and meaningful attraction to "Amy's ass that just won't quit."
Henry and I are assigned to run interference (aka COCKBLOCK) between John and Amy the rest of the weekend, though I do manage to get away to the $5 a spin Wheel of Fortune slot machines just in time to win another $500.
As an aside, the editor of our website's (Starcitygames.com, check it out!) name is Ted. Ted had never been in a casino before I had brought him to Harrah's casino in New Orleans during a company trip this past November. Ted asks how it works.
"It's simple, really." I said, putting $5 into a $5 slot machine. "You just pull the lever and win money." I proceeded to hit $100 and cash out on the first spin. Random luck still continues to operate in my favor.
10) The flight home
So the wedding went great, I was thinking about Tracy the whole flight home (she had left on Sunday morning and my flight out was Monday at noon), and it left me thinking about John Fucking Sorrentino. I don't have very much to say in his defense, all told - he was irresponsible, sexist, aimless, kind of slimy, and while charming in a roguish way was also pretty pathetic when you added up the sum of his parts. Still, what really bothered me about him was this:
John and I really had a lot in common, personality wise.
From the time we spent together, I really felt like looking at John was looking at a really distorted mirror of me. I likened it to the following: John is what I might have become had I never taken any responsibility for my life. I've been known to make bold decisions (moving to a new city when an opportunity presented itself), to flirt with the women, to be quirky (and he was quirky) and to be considered kind of odd. However, all of his decisions were generally reprehensible - dating a married woman while openly chasing other women, losing all his possessions and money to gambling and going to a very bad place (tm) to get more funds, and marching to the beat of his own drummer, despite other's wishes (he showed up to the wedding as the only person not even remotely dressed up). Thing is, I could see myself in his footsteps if I had made some different choices in my life - and that's what really bothered me about him. He's what I could have been if I hadn't taught myself responsibility after a childhood absolutely free of any.
But that's a story for another day, isn't it?
Next up: Sharing some beautiful music
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