outside my livingroom

I walk into a coffee shop, which in and of itself a cliché. But it’s fine. There are 4 kids huddled together at a table, all with their own bible in their hands. The kids hanging out are smoking and look like they trying to be intellectuals instead of trying to be gangsters. There was a bum that walked by but he just kept on going. The weather is getting cool so I actually got a coffee. The problem is: nothing penetrated. The first time I was downtown on my own (San Jose, CA) I felt like I was doing something. I remember walking down Telegraph Avenue for the first time and thinking, “I’m walking down Telegraph Avenue.” That’s what penetration is. I felt that it changed me. It was something I had never done before and it changed me. This downtown with its kids and its bums doesn’t penetrate. But, as I sit outside with my coffee and this laptop and I start actually looking around searching for something to write, I realize that I’ve never really done this. I live right around the corner but normally I’m holed up in my apartment, monitoring the stats of my fantasy baseball team. I never knew that the girls that work in this coffee shop are semi-cute with their short hair but hopelessly bohemian with their tattoos and piercings. Plus they’re young and I am old. I feel no nervousness around them, no need to question my coolness in comparison to theirs. That was penetration, too: learning about myself through interaction with others. That was something new, learning about myself. Since I’m old I have less to learn in this regard. I know I can’t attract these coffegirls. I would need a more nuanced look: weathered black t-shirt draped over broad shoulders on an emaciated frame, greasy hair yet neatly trimmed on the sides, and old leather boots that somehow don’t look ridiculous with my tight pants. That would do it. Not the Simpsons shirt I actually have on. And sandles, for Christ sake. I might as well be wearing a tucked-in Giants shirt with neat khaki shorts that end well above the knee. But I’m ok with that. I’m old and I know things (think I know things) and the same old things I used to do don’t penetrate me anymore. But I’m outside on a weeknight. That’s new. I’m reflecting on my surroundings and actually writing about them as opposed to saying “I should write this stuff down.” That’s new too. [quick reflection: I’m old and I don’t have kids – fuck yeah!]. So I’m old but, as it turns out, still porous. Life still penetrates.

(I wish I could bum a smoke off those kids but that would be weird.)

Week 11

When you watch movies with heroin users using heroin at one point they take the syringe out of their arm and settle back into, what, like 2 hours of bliss?

When I come home from work I'm looking for a similar fix. I'm anxious to the point of hysteria as I approach the keyboard but that's really just the body knowing that the dope is just seconds away. Usually it's around 5:45 pm so the east coast games have been on for over an hour. That means I get an immediate jolt of stats when I first log on. This is the point in the movie where I take the needle out of my arm. But instead of bliss it's really just more anxiety. There will never be the perfect game for your fantasy baseball team. Someone will be 0 for 4, some pitcher will have given up 4 runs in 2 innings. Someone on the other team will have hit a 2-run homer. So you need to watch the games for more stats. More stats in your favor. More stats that hurt your opponent. Sizing up games for possible hoolds, possible saves. No one is melting into the floor on this high. They're staring at StatTracker waiting for the result of the 0-2 pitch in Baltimore. Waiting for the screen to refresh.

FBB is better than heroin:
-cheaper
-fewer holes in body

heroin is better than FBB:
-cooler
-more established tradition (literature, music, cinema)
-better high (an assumption)
-more social interaction
-gaunt facial features
-better war stories after you kick it
-cute little kit


huh.

24 days, 13 hours, 31 minutes...

Over three weeks before the live draft? Waiting for Christmas as a 10 year has clearly been replaced, resurrected 23 years later. And instead of Christmas morning with my mom, dad & sister it's going to be with SportsAddict, Baggies and Bigwoodyla. And instead of presents it's 23 picks.

Similarities:
-pajamas
-1st present supposed to be best present
-throwing a tantrum when you don't get exactly what you want.

Differences:
-no actual presents
-no actual family


Actually, that ain't bad at all.

Wish list:

Carl Crawford, Grady Sizemore, Bill Hall or Felipe Lopez, Manny Ramirez, David Wright, Brian Roberts, Ian Snell, Dan Haren, Jose Valverde.