Florida: F&#%ing Things Up Since 2000
Feb. 1st, 2008 10:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
penfield"...and David putteth forth his hand unto the vessel, and taketh thence a stone, and slingeth, and smiteth the Philistine on his forehead, and the stone sinketh into his forehead, and he falleth on his face to the earth."
- Old Testament, 1 Samuel 17:49
It's the Friday before the Super Bowl, and normally I would be preparing for my annual Super Bowl Extravaganza and Arlington Invitational -- assessing my salsa supply, monitoring weather conditions and gently probing E.R.D. for details on his Special Lady. In contrast to recent years, I was anticipating this year's party with increased gusto; a new, larger apartment meant less fretting over surplus attendance and last year's touch football experiment with artificial turf was a great success.
But reality has pimp-slapped me once again.
Because of my high-falutin' work promotion, I am being forced against my will to attend our annual Winter Board Meeting, held this year in Naples, Florida on February 3, 4 and 5. Instead of returning kickoffs, I'll be slogging through airport security lines. Instead of enjoying chips and salsa, I'll be subsisting on airline pretzels. And instead of following the game on my HD big-screen television, I'll have the choice of watching on the 24" CRT in my hotel room or the non-HD stretch-o-vision at the meeting's "super bowl party," sitting on a white leather sofa between 53-year old Titans of Industry who could conceivably have me fired with so much as a casual hand gesture.
So I'm going to be pretty miserable on Sunday, and that's not even considering the actual Super Bowl game.
For a long time, I considered myself a Raiders fan. I'm not particularly proud of that affiliation -- I can only justify it with four words: "Bo Jackson" and "Tecmo Bowl." I stood behind the team despite some pretty awful seasons and even worse decisions. I made it all the way through "The Tuck Rule Game" in 2002 and the Super Bowl throttling at the hands of the Tampa Bay Grudens in 2003 before abandoning them. Honestly, by that time the team was already kind of difficult to root for. They were already the worst kind of team: boring on the field and obnoxious off of it.
So the next season I latched on to the Indianapolis Colts, who offered a charismatic young team, an exciting game plan and probably the best possible chance to beat the Patriots. This was a fun time to be a Colts fan, except of course when the played the Patriots, as this would usually end the Colts' season and my enjoyment of it.
After the Colts won the Super Bowl last year, I still followed them as a fan but abandoned the pretense of having a "favorite team." For all intents and purposes, my favorite team was "Whomever Is Playing the New England Patriots." This was from Day One, before the Perfect Season, before even "spygate." I just wanted them to lose.
This has been the worst NFL season of my entire life.
So, obviously the Giants are going to lose on Sunday by a score of something like 483-3, and Tom Brady will be able to celebrate by humping a pair of cheerleaders during the halftime show. My only salvation will be if he is permanently blinded by runaway confetti. I suppose it's a little ironic that the "Giants" are actually playing the role of "Goliath" in this scenario, but I'm still not laughing.
So maybe it's not so awful that I'm not hosting a party this year. And at least I won't have to figure out how to dispose of a half-gallon of excess nacho dip.
P.S. Because I'll be in loco serenas for the next few days, don't expect any updates here until Wednesday. Have a super Sunday without me.
- Old Testament, 1 Samuel 17:49
It's the Friday before the Super Bowl, and normally I would be preparing for my annual Super Bowl Extravaganza and Arlington Invitational -- assessing my salsa supply, monitoring weather conditions and gently probing E.R.D. for details on his Special Lady. In contrast to recent years, I was anticipating this year's party with increased gusto; a new, larger apartment meant less fretting over surplus attendance and last year's touch football experiment with artificial turf was a great success.
But reality has pimp-slapped me once again.
Because of my high-falutin' work promotion, I am being forced against my will to attend our annual Winter Board Meeting, held this year in Naples, Florida on February 3, 4 and 5. Instead of returning kickoffs, I'll be slogging through airport security lines. Instead of enjoying chips and salsa, I'll be subsisting on airline pretzels. And instead of following the game on my HD big-screen television, I'll have the choice of watching on the 24" CRT in my hotel room or the non-HD stretch-o-vision at the meeting's "super bowl party," sitting on a white leather sofa between 53-year old Titans of Industry who could conceivably have me fired with so much as a casual hand gesture.
So I'm going to be pretty miserable on Sunday, and that's not even considering the actual Super Bowl game.
For a long time, I considered myself a Raiders fan. I'm not particularly proud of that affiliation -- I can only justify it with four words: "Bo Jackson" and "Tecmo Bowl." I stood behind the team despite some pretty awful seasons and even worse decisions. I made it all the way through "The Tuck Rule Game" in 2002 and the Super Bowl throttling at the hands of the Tampa Bay Grudens in 2003 before abandoning them. Honestly, by that time the team was already kind of difficult to root for. They were already the worst kind of team: boring on the field and obnoxious off of it.
So the next season I latched on to the Indianapolis Colts, who offered a charismatic young team, an exciting game plan and probably the best possible chance to beat the Patriots. This was a fun time to be a Colts fan, except of course when the played the Patriots, as this would usually end the Colts' season and my enjoyment of it.
After the Colts won the Super Bowl last year, I still followed them as a fan but abandoned the pretense of having a "favorite team." For all intents and purposes, my favorite team was "Whomever Is Playing the New England Patriots." This was from Day One, before the Perfect Season, before even "spygate." I just wanted them to lose.
This has been the worst NFL season of my entire life.
So, obviously the Giants are going to lose on Sunday by a score of something like 483-3, and Tom Brady will be able to celebrate by humping a pair of cheerleaders during the halftime show. My only salvation will be if he is permanently blinded by runaway confetti. I suppose it's a little ironic that the "Giants" are actually playing the role of "Goliath" in this scenario, but I'm still not laughing.
So maybe it's not so awful that I'm not hosting a party this year. And at least I won't have to figure out how to dispose of a half-gallon of excess nacho dip.
P.S. Because I'll be in loco serenas for the next few days, don't expect any updates here until Wednesday. Have a super Sunday without me.
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Re: FYI
Date: 2008-02-06 06:55 pm (UTC)