Monday, August 17, 2009

From Florida, With Love

Well, I've reached the magical land of tans and oranges. Note: if the former looks like the latter, you may want to take a look at your spray bottle.

It's beautiful here, all except for the heat, which has been rendered delightfully impotent by our condo's magnificent cooling system. I've been watching lightning flicker through the sky for the past several hours from the balcony/porch. We're on the 12th floor, so it's all quite breathtaking.

And yet, despite this beauty, there is one thing on my mind, one thing that edges out all others.

Why do Floridians have red turning arrows? Seriously, it doesn't make any sense. Why have an arrow at all? And yet, there it is, staring at me like some insolent practical joke, some gigantic mixed message. The arrow points in the direction I wish to go, but it is red, which signifies that I am not permitted to go in that direction.

Stupid Florida.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Five Reasons I Hate Going to Games

1. The Person Behind Me
Inevitably, I happen to be seated in front of one of three fan archetypes: the hoodlum, the drunk, and the uber-fan,.
The hoodlum is the kid who probably doesn't actually want to be there, and is taking out his mischievous energy on me via the bag of popcorn in his hand that never seems to grow any emptier.
The drunk is the guy who probably just came for the beer. Never mind that there are less expensive ways to do it, this guy is determined to leave the game completely plastered. Unfortunately, he is also determined to slosh his fifth beer all over the person directly in front of him, which happens to be me. Add to this the annoying habit of yelling random and mostly incoherent syllables in my left ear.
The uber-fan is similar to the drunk, only minus the beer, plus several lifetimes worth of sports statistics, and an obsessive knowledge of players' names and sleep habits, with all of this information spewing forth like a geyser to the nearest listener, willing or not.

2. Astronomical Food Prices
Seriously, the only reason I ever really go to games is the food. That's sad, because I could buy a small moon with the amount of money I pay for said food. Well, probably not, but I could still get this really cool blender.

3. Mascots
I feel sorry for these people. Their entire purpose in life is to do stupid things for the moderate and often non-existent amusement of the audience.

4. Self Esteem Issues
This is a problem especially when I watch minor league sports. The following usually runs through my head at least once during a given game: "If you have to be that coordinated to play in this league, how does anyone attain the godlike skill required to go pro?" I mean, not that I've ever been interested in playing sports professionally. It just brings to mind my paucity of hand-eye coordination.

5. Hard, Fast Moving Objects
Every spectator sport I know of involves hard, fast moving objects. People die from these things. Watch this movie.

Direchihuahua
 
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The Institute for Circular Reasoning by Peter Semple is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.