Hump Day

Just got a lot better ... Stay tuned!

Road Trip: Day 1

960 miles through Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, Nebraska and ending on South Dakota. Phew I'm tired. 

Heart Pain and Brain Drain

Damn, has it been a downer of a week.

Some racist prick shoots nine people dead in a house of worship. Many scientist have concluded we're living in the midst of the sixth great extinction. Global Warming is very real and getting worse.

All the above is depressing enough, but it's the subsequent lack of any widespread intelligent reactions to such vital issues that really has me down.

I can't believe the responses I've seen from more traditional mass media and social media to Dylann Roof's slaughter of nine black people. First off, so many parties immediately launched into advancing their own interests. Pro and anti gun control parties put on their spin. Mass media plastered click bate headlines with corresponding articles of little to no substance in droves. It was all so predictable.

Can't we just take time to be sad? Can't we just process this instead of pretending we know what exactly happened? Can the talking heads shut up long enough for us to observe this?

Now that the dust has somewhat settled, I feel comfortable espousing a few views.

The idiocy I've seen from some friend's and friend of friends' Facebook posts is beyond stupid. First off, if you think that this wasn't an act of domestic terrorism, you are, quite frankly, a fucking idiot. If you think this an act of mass murder wasn't fueled by racism, you're even more of a fucking idiot.

Roof, the shooter, was wearing an Apartheid-era South Africa flag and a Rhodesia flag, a former nation that was under white-minority rule until 1980 until true democracy took hold and the country became today known as Zimbabwe, The young man told the victims and survivors as he was committing his heinous act that he was solely targeting black people because they are "raping our women" and "taking over our country." On top of that, he immediately confessed to law enforcement he did it. It's also looking likely his manifesto has been found posting online where he claims Trevon Martin's death and it's controversy caused him to do research where he alleges mass black-on-white crimes drove him to do his evil deed.

Sure, anyone who goes into a church and butchers nine people probably isn't mentally well. But to act like this wasn't heavily steeped in racism means you're... well, you know.

This act of domestic terrorism was made all the more depressing to me because of a recent Facebook debate I engaged in. An acquaintance of mine, though hardworking and tough, is an ardent racist. I try to focus on his good qualities, but he inundates his Facebook friends with borderline and outright racists posts. I usually look past it because when has a Facebook debate ever changed anyone's mind? Recently though he posted a video of a a crowd of black people doing incredibly destructive and stupid things. He provided the caption, "See the common denominator?"

This far too disgusting and easy to counter. I responded with a video of the 2011 Vancouver riots, then Penn States, Boston, San Francisco and -- this is a good one -- a pumpkin festival in New Hampshire. Of course, the majority of these rioters destroying random people's property were predominantly, if not solely, white. He responded with bogus statistics. I came back with FBI statistics, showing how white people were murdered in 2013. 2,500 of which were murdered by fellow whites. (For the record, while an idiot, this acquaintance doesn't have a violent bone in his body.)

Funny how Roof seems to never have bothered to search white-on-white crime.

As I mentioned briefly in my prior post, I truly thought my generation was on the cusp of achieving a post racial America. Judging by my Facebook friend's sentiments, the fact Roof is only 21 and the views being espoused by people of all backgrounds made me realize just how naive I truly was. I should have known better. Defying all morality and reason, the Confederate flag has flown high above South Carolina's capital-- it still does.

Those parishioners gunned down in what's meant to be the most peaceful and serene of settings sure seemed like outstanding citizens to me. The grief-stricken congregation and community seems to be uniting as one. That's awesome. It fills me with hope.

But then I factor in how species are and have been dying off at rapid rates since the advent of the Industrial Revolution and how otherwise seemingly smart and rational people continue to deny or turn a blind eye towards Global Warming and realize we may very well be absolutely fucked.

I'm so down isn't due to me questioning the goodness of mankind. I think the vast majority of people the world over, at their cores, are good. I don't question our hearts. I question our collective whole's ability to think through these issues. Our hearts sustain us, but we need our brains to save us from ourselves.

We're Better Than This. Aren't We?

I don't get it.

Nine people are shot dead in a church and, instead of mourning, the nation is pointing fingers and trying to spin opinion to fit an agenda.

Is it so much to ask if we're allowed to just be sad for a while?

Schools aren't safe. Churches aren't safe. I thought my generation was close to achieving something of a post racial America, and then a 21 year old tries to start race war. Then I have a few of my peers tell me it's okay for a cop to shoot an unarmed person in the back as they run away because, "It's an order."

I guess I'm just baffled that people are still racist in light of overwhelming evidence and common sense that all people are just that: people. Everyone's an individual and deserves to be treated with the utmost respect. Every stranger you meet deserves a blank slate. It's that simple and even more obvious.

But there are people running around acting like one race has a monopoly on intelligence, morality and peace and the other stupidity, sin and violence. There is only one race: the human race.

We're all in it together.

Headache Bellyaches

My car broke down last night, second time in as many weeks. As I waited on the side of the road for AAA to come tow my wounded Civic, I listened to the Cleveland Cavaliers fall to the Golden State Warriors. Ohio pro sports team and their fans' luck often seem intertwined.

Poor Cleveland. No city, hands down, deserves a championship as much as you guys do. It will come soon though.

Congrats to Golden State, I guess. Way to beat our beleaguered JV team plus Lebron James. What an "accomplishment." (Yes, I'm bitter.)

ON top of all this, i managed to lose my wallet. This doesn't sit well with me as I now have few means to extract my cash. I don't know how I managed this fumble, but I found a way.

On top of that, woke up with a major headache this morning. It's still raging. It's a challenge to even look at the screen.

There are worse fates in life. I probably shouldn't be complaining, but isn't that what a blog's for?

Game 5: Cream of the Crop

To be the best, you have to beat the best.

Playing another top-flight team, the same team that handily defeated the opponents that crushed us 8-2, would be a true test of our meddle and how much we've improved.

Sadly, I decided to be an absolute moron the night before our game, jeopardizing whether I would even suit up at all.

My roommate and I decided to go to a new pizza/bar joint across the street from us to watch the Cleveland Cavaliers game. Our other roommate had just moved out a few days prior; she was a recovering alcoholic. So, in a show of solidarity, us two male roommates had nary a drop of alcohol in our own home to show support and avoid further tempting her. Now that she was out of the picture in a sense, it seemed like a good idea to catch up on lost time.

I began downing Sam Adams Summer Ale like Stephen Curry was three pointers in the fourth quarter. After the Cavs suffered what I suspect to be a backbreaking loss, we went back to our home to cap off the evening with a glass of wine Matti had bought. That was supposed to be it. After he went to sleep though, his bottle of wine got progressively emptier as the night went on. Yours truly may have played a small role in that.

Boy did I pay the price the following morning. My head was throbbing. I felt paralyzed but willed myself to the porcelain throne to empty the contents of my stomach. It was easily the worst hangover I ever had. Mixing beer and wine when you've barely touched alcohol for the better part of three years is a bad combo.

It wasn't likely I'd be seeing any ice. But I slammed as much water and V8 as possible and felt vaguely human again about three hours before the puck dropped. I opened up my laptop to tell the team who would be on which line and some general strategies. To my horror I came to find four of our better players all had last minute cancellations. One's son was running a 104 fever. Our stud goalie was the recipient of a dirty cheap shot in separate league game the night before. I certainly wasn't going to be 100%. We'd be fielding something of a skeleton crew against the league's top team.

After getting geared up and hitting the ice, my stomach felt like a washing machine on a perpetual spin cycle. I was praying I wouldn't puke. In a stroke of karmic justice to further punish me for my over imbibing, our opponents team name ... the Jagrbombs. Bleh.

The game itself was fun to watch and play in. My boss working across the street came over to take a peak and really enjoyed himself. He was surprised by the speed. Both teams were relatively fleet of foot, especially for a lowly E League game. There was decent end-to-end action. "Pretty sweet!' my boss exclaimed. 'A lot faster than I expected."

Unfortunately the results weren't as good as our speed. We lost 4-0. Their goalie stood tall and we made too many unforced turnovers. Our backup goalie was clearly experienced and played exceptionally well. More help clearing rebound would have done him a lot of good, but it wasn't meant to be.

I did pretty well personally. I was hurtin' for certain, as my drill sergeant would say. I pushed through the nausea and made some stuff happen, but not enough to change the scoreboard.

However, we played them better than the score would indicate. We've improved leaps and bounds. People are battling for pucks and not playing so passive. It was, believe or not, their closest game thus far. We pot one or two goals in the first two frames, could have been a whole new ballgame. Alas, the W eluded us on this night.

Two of our younger players lived within a stones throw of the ice rink and were nice enough to invite us to their swinging bachelor pad to have a few drinks -- which I respectfully declined -- and watch the Chicago Blackhawks bring home the Stanley Cup. Everyone who attended had a great time.

Not the morning or result I wanted, but it was a pretty good evening all and all.

Prison

I'm going there, June 21. Stay tuned.