Is it football season yet?

Wow, what a mediocre Opening Day. Last night set a nice precedent with a well-pitched game in a gorgeous new stadium with the Nats' frachise player for the next 10 years, Ryan Zimmerman, hitting the walk-off HR in the bottom of the ninth. Good storyline, good baseball game. The President even made a funny joke on national TV about being full of hot air.

Today, not so much. Seemed like half of the day's games got postponed or delayed because of national rainstorms (all thanks to the terrorists and their diabolical weather machine). The only saving grace with the weather is that Jeff Francis and his awful outing got erased from my fantasy score due to the game getting called. I had to work and didn't get to watch the Reds get gunned down by Brandon Webb & Co. 3 hits and 10 Ks? Won't be getting to 87 wins if the offense stays that quiet for long stretches. It looked like the team had a nice tribute to Nuxie though.


I tried to rush home to catch at least the last inning, but the game ended right as I booted up the computer. And now it looks like mlb.tv has fucked me over by not working at all. I haven't been able to watch anything other than a few glitchy snatches of innings from a few different games. I did get to see Kerry Wood cough it up in the ninth, but missed Gag-me doing the same minutes later. Hopefully this was a harbinger of things to come for both teams. How funny would it be if the Reds end up having the stablest bullpen in the division this season?

Trying to watch the Braves game now, but still no feed coming to my computer. I upgraded to the better package this year. Hopefully that's not going to be a waste of $120. Bad day for baseball.

. . . the Georgia spring game is this weekend.

The ghosts of my passenger seat

I jumped in the truck today after a drop/receive at the library and immediately swiveled around to ask Laura a question about some book or song I was thinking about. But she wasn't there; I took her to the airport on Tuesday morning. I wanted to turn around and double-check to make sure my darling cousin wasn't making a nest amongst the jumpseats in back, but I knew that it was fruitless. I grew so used to having driving companions on my extended weekend/very short sabbatical that I have been having trouble adjusting. No one to talk, ruminate, muse, or ponder with (dialoguing is still out).

This is not a new phenomenom. Many times post-Deven I could swear that if I squinted hard enough that she would appear out of a haze, seated right there beside me exactly in appearance (same clothes, same familiar ponytail, same bright pink toenail polish) as she was before stepping out of the truck on a bright, sunny summer day -- right before she took another step right out of my life shortly thereafter. And this is long after I'd gotten over her and hadn't thought about her in months; it was if some phantom essence of her infused itself into the plush and vinyl after only a half a dozen rides.

And long before that the two great loves of my late teenage years -- my ex-girlfriend and Blue, my old '89 VW Jetta -- had combined to form an ever-looping emo song running on four wheels and $1.19 a gallon. That vehicle saw hours and hours of me and Annie together -- good times, first dates, trips to the mountains and every point between Roswell and Marietta, back-seat escapades, and later fights, midnight tears, and near-death experiences while attempting empty shots at reconciliation. That car became mother-fucking Christine; that car was alive. So much love and memory and emotion was poured into that car until the chassis and everything built on it was inundated with it. Dash, seats, stick shift, radio knob; everything on that car had a Annie-memory attached. Long after she was gone I would swear to feeling her presence or recognizing her scent as I drove down those old north Georgia roads we had taken so many times together.

I fucking killed that car. Something deep within my brain must have realized that I was torturing myself just driving that thing to the corner store. That car was going on 300K miles and was still fine other than a handful of minor annoyances and the eventual lack of a reverse. Something subconciously must have told me to exorcise that poltergeist and try to move on. I fucked up a coolant hose on my way home from work one day and I burned that fucking engine up. I loved you to death Blue, but to death you had to go.

But now it's just me and Grace until someone else comes along. The only thing I'm reaching over the center console to grab is maybe some library books or my groceries. Until then I'll keep screaming at Massholes and talking to myself and my truck over the sounds of NPR.

Written for an audience of one

FOR LADA
Four months. Dozens of chapter icons. Innumerable character names. And a full 5,994 pages.

Last night, for the first time since last year I didn't have a Wheel of Time book to read before I went to bed. I have finally read the entire series by Robert Jordan (save the last one which he is not writing -- because he is dead). I no longer have to nod happily and tell people "yes, I will get around to those some day" while I silently think "piss off". I started Book Three towards the end of October and finished Book 11 on Wednesday at approximately 1:30 in the am. I had previously read the first two of the series years ago in college and hated them.

So what was the verdict? Why undertake such a mammoth read?

I finally got down to it for 3 reasons:
1) to honor the memory of Mr. Jordan (alias James Rigney) who I had come to admire in the past year
2) I was getting in the mood for a new fantasy series since Tad Williams and George R.R. Martin have been keeping me in a holding pattern
3) I was fucking sick to death of being nagged by family members

I still hold that the first two books sucked balls from what I can remember from them and I did go into the rest of the series with perhaps not a bad attitude, but admittedly a bit of derision and dismissiveness. But even so, I would say that overall I enjoyed them thoroughly and had a good experience. Quite a few times I found myself peeved that I had not prepared in advance so that the next book was on hold at the library when I finished with one. I even bought a paperback of The Shadow Rising in the airport Borders so I didn't have to wait until the next day for the library's copy. I became interested in a lot of the fan chat online and found myself skimming around message boards much to some people's chagrin. I found myself frequenting a particular artist's blog for weekly updates on his incredibly well done character portraits. So all in all, I would say I am a fan, if not a rabid, geeked-out one.

There were some issues of course. Many times I found myself laughing out loud at some rather silly sequences and some things were just too over-the-top, even for the genre. Many of the characterizations and descriptions became rather repetitive. By Book 10 I'm fully aware of the struggle that is seizing saidin. I don't need it described in depth each time. As I understand it, Robert Jordan's wife was/is his editor for the books. I question her objectivity and wonder if she fills this position for other novels. Much of the content could have been drastically cut down and pared to a more concise and fluid narrative. Also the author was quite sloppy at times with his event chronicling; his timeframes seemed to jump a bit up and down the line. However, a lot of my problems with the books were mostly superficial; like I said I enjoyed them and he's clearly made his publisher a very rich man so what do I know?

Maybe eventually I'll try Jordan's other books. I believe he does Revolutionary War fiction; that could be interesting. Probably have to stay away from his Conan stories however. I'm just not too sure how I feel about anybody but Howard writing about that wily Cimmerian. All in all good reads; I'll pat myself on the back for slogging through them all at once. All too happy to be done with them and moving on though. I think I need to cleanse my palate with some nonfiction or horror stories.

A COLLECTION OF OTHER POINTS OF INTEREST

- Is Rand al'Thor the worst protagonist of a major fantasy series? I think so. In the beginning he is the prototypical Luke Skywalker/Frodo Baggins archetype pulled into events bigger than his simple background (LET'S HOPE HE CAN SAVE THE WORLD!!!). He grows a bit, becomes somewhat interesting, but by the end of Book Six he has become incredibly dull and one-note and stays that way for the duration. I found myself dreading seeing that black & white dragon chapter icon. He never surprises the reader; he always reacts just how I expect him to. The series has become less "how will Rand save the world" and morphed into "who will soften Rand's steel heart and make him remember his inner child?" In a series where almost every character, male and female, has to one-up everyone else for the title of "Most Hard", Rand takes the cake. Snooze...I know in the end Rand is going to pull a Harry Potter "dead but not really bait-and-switch", but I would just prefer if he stays dead and his three wives have to "console" each other.

- Biggest flip-flop between two characters: Egwene and Min. Starting out, I really liked Egwene and was interested in her story arc. Could the simply, naive country girl survive the harshness of the world amongst all these guys and safeguard Rand at the same time? Conversely, I hated Min. I saw her as a really lame, shallow tomboy character out to steal Egwene's man with an amazing convenient plot device power. Now Egwene has become the female version of Rand for me. I still typically like her chapters for the politics and powerplays and because I really dig Suian, but I can't like Egwene at all. I can't get past her "I'm a strong woman so I need to be a raging bitch" attitude and her haughty airs. I hope she and Gawyn have a romantic reunion on the battlefield of Tarmon Gai'don; they slow-mo run to each other's arms, make out, and promptly get mowed down by a battalion of Trollocs. Min, I like. She's got sass, she's got spunk, she's got the sexy librarian thing going with her nose always in a book and she makes Rand's chapters easier to stomach. And while the three girls get to "share" Rand, it's been more like Min loaning him out to Elayne and Avi for one hookup each. Rock on Min.

...more to come