A dream or a message?

It's been quite a while since I last posted. Work has consumed my work days and intentional, desperate distractions have consumed my weekends. But mainly my silence is because I didn't have anything interesting to say -- not that this has stopped me before.

I did have this strange dream the other night:

I am at my computer in my old office in Austin (the office that has a window overlooking the other rooms of the office, rather than a window facing outside). There is apparently a garage behind the back wall of my office (at least in my dream; not in reality). That back wall, which is opposite my window, has a vent at the bottom of it. Apparently someone is idling his or her car in that garage, because smoke is pouring into my office from that tiny vent. I notice the smoke, but just get up from my desk, close my office door (right next to the window overlooking the rest of the office) and sit back down as the smoke continues to pour into my office. I guess I don't want the smoke to disturb the rest of the office.

That was it.

That same night, I also had a dream about a woodpecker. I saw him up on the trunk of a tree, then he flitted to the other side of the trunk. That is all I remember about that one.

Maybe I'll be back with more esoteria before another month passes...

I may be dull, but I look sharp

Yes, my life may be crumbling about me -- perhaps more due to my own perceptions than to any real events -- but at least I look good. My spouse and children gave me some new clothes yesterday, and today I'm strutting my stuff.

The halls in which I labor may be soulless, but at least I've been granted vestigial wings. Thanks, y'all!

Another Milestone

So this is September 26. Does it mean anything to you? It always has meant something to me.

Unfortunately more and more things seem to serve as reminders of how life hasn't turned out as I expected -- milestones on my road to mediocrity if you will. September 26 is one such milestone for me.

My family (spouse and children) are terrific, working hard to make the day special, and doing so yesterday as well. How do people get by without the love and support of family? My family are the heroes in my life and are the fragile railing between me and the abyss.

So, is my dissatisfaction due to being in the midst of a mid-life crisis? That's too glib of an assessment. It labels without defining. How do we make sure we are content no matter our age? Here's a simple description of the choices we should make in life, and a clue as to what I may not have done well:

"Have regular hours for work and play; make each day both useful and pleasant, and prove that you understand the worth of time by employing it well. Then youth will be delightful, old age will bring few regrets, and life will become a beautiful success." - Louisa May Alcott, American novelist

Does straying from this simple policy mean one has traveled the wrong path? If so, what should be done? A Turkish proverb says "No matter how far you have gone on the wrong road, turn back." With a computer, you can turn back by using the "Undo" command or, when things are really desperate, CTRL+ALT+DLT. What does one do out here in the real world? Whatever it is, it likely isn't pleasant.

Sturm und Drang

The storm has passed. With only leaves, twigs, and the occasional dead branch down, we've been spared any serious damage.

We've also been spared the crucible that would burn away the superfluous aspects of our life so that we see who we really are. It is said that crises bring out the best and worst in people. What crises actually do is peel away the faux veneer we have each crafted, thus letting us see our true selves. Are we selfish spirits that loot luxuries when external controls are not present? Are we compassionate souls that will put our own welfare aside in order to help another?

Sometimes it doesn’t take much to peel away the veneer. Despite the ease with which fate treated me this past weekend, I still resorted to stealing the neighbor's Sunday paper. Yes, there were two day's worth of papers on their front lawn. Yes, the neighbors had left town with no indication that they might return. Nevertheless, I took something they had paid and I had not -- something they may be expecting when they return. I may have put their schedule for TV watching in peril for the week. I may have deprived them of their desire to keep tabs on Garfield. I may have undermined their ability to stay abreast of news.

So there it is. I have survived as has my property, yet my principles have not. I set aside my moral code just so I can giggle at Dilbert. What would Prince Valiant say?

On the positive side, I did meet three of my neighbors. My kids learned how to rake (having recently moved from a treeless neighborhood). And I cut down a dead tree (albeit a small one) and collected some fallen branches for my neighbor. But all this is overshadowed by my rampant paper looting, for which I am ashamed. As Rex the Dinosaur would say, "I have guilt!"

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Sturm und Drang (SHTOORM oont DRANG) [German, "storm and stress"] noun 1. Turmoil; ferment. 2. A late-18th-century German romantic literary movement whose works typically depicted the struggles of a highly emotional individual against conventional society.

The Sooie Side of Life

Suicide just doesn't receive the humorous treatment it deserves. Leave it to The Onion to do it right. Actually, the article is not so much a rib-tickler about suicide as it is a satire on the fabric of today’s society, where technology has isolated us from each other. It is ironic that communication and travel are easier today than ever in history, but it is the soulless nature of these technology-supported links that furthers feelings of loneliness and isolation.

Emotion today is conveyed with an array of sterile acronyms and icons. “LOL” means “I am staring impassively at my screen, but will take a moment to recognize your attempt at humor.” A smiley face might mean “I don’t want to take the time to rephrase my communiqué so that you’ll realize my jocundity; let this icon reveal my intentions.”

The security and anonymity of isolation does allow unchecked anger to be the one emotion that is freely shared. Thus, we might find blanket statements profanely expressed by those who disagree with our opinions. This sort of close-minded and puerile invective is reserved not only for the BIG TOPICS (foremost of these being politics and religion), but also for opinions on pop culture: musicians you might (not) like, or even the particular songs you (don’t) prefer by that musician; the movie or TV series you prefer, or even the particular episode of that series; the sports (or team) you prefer; your feelings on why a particular sports team may (not) be doing well; or, and this is a big one, which actor or model you think is the hottest. Some contentious issues, these.

But this unfettered rage can lead to some humorous moments, tinged with rousing irony, such as when your typos are under attack by a critic who writes “Your such a looser. Your grammer sucks!”

The Onion's article captures all this about society, but at the expense of leaving the latently funny topic of suicide as but an afterthought. So, I’ll have to continue my search for good humor about self-inflicted death. In the meantime, refresh yourself on the reasons you might not want to commit suicide. Bookmark that page and return to it again and again. You might need it when Life makes you feel like a looser, as it so often does.

Inspiration on the Tube; Not so much off-Tube

This past weekend was the antithesis of the previous weekend in my world of football. The UT-Hookem-Longhorns traveled to Columbus, Ohio, to play Ohio State in The Horseshoe. This, the first ever match up of these two “storied programs” (to slip into sportscaster-speak), lived up to its billing. Texas came out strong in the first quarter, then struggled offensively in the second, third, and most of the fourth quarters. If it hadn’t have been for the defensive bend-don’t-break Texas defense, which limited Ohio State to field goals when touchdowns looked likely, Texas would have been out of the game. The final 5 minutes of the game was worth the pain of watching countless beer commercials.

Soccer on the other hand was uninspiring. Brian McBride scored for Fulham in the match with Newcastle United that heralded the return of Michael Owen, but that’s about it. FC Dallas continued its downslide. Worst soccer news: my son’s first soccer game with his new team in his new club in our new town was called due to thunderstorms. Since the team had yet to pick up all of its players and hadn’t had a chance to really practice well together, it might have been a blessing that the game was called. Nevertheless, I was eager to see “Flippy” get back to the thing he enjoys most outside the home.

Perhaps the best soccer I saw this weekend was when I started playing my son’s (“Cheekers”) game, Backyard Soccer, on the computer. It’s fun, if not very challenging, and made me pine for a simple neighborhood park where local kids could assemble their small-sided teams and play the game in its simplest form. This would be pure soccer: fun for the kids, with ample opportunity to experiment with the art of the game. Of course, if it ever became successful, it would draw the attention of adults. “Helpful” adults would come in to increase the competition, then other adults would have to come in to make sure the “helpful” adults weren’t bending the rules, and more adults would need to ensure safety and liability issues were covered. Then we’d realize that to ensure this, we’d need more organization. Soon, we’d have just another soccer club, where soccer is over-regulated and fun is only an occasional by-product.

Ah, another dream dashed. Glad Monday is here to quash any other dreams or aspirations that might be bubbling in my cerebellum.

What a strange machine man is! You fill him with bread, wine, fish, and radishes, and out comes sighs, laughter, and dreams. –Nikos Kazantzakis, poet and novelist (1883-1957)

Football and FOOTball

Yesterday was a series of chores and busywork waiting for the real purpose of the day: televised football.

Finally, evening came and the family watched as our esteemed Longhorns crushed the hapless University of Louisiana-Lafayette Ragin’ Cajuns, 60-3. This should have been a great thing, right? Nope. I decided to spend much of the game in the yard, finishing my handcrafted weed-eating of the grass tufts on the periphery of my lawn. I chose to worship nature over worshipping Longhorns because:

1. Louisiana was devastated by Katrina the Monday before. How can we relish humiliating them?

2. And, yes, it’s humiliation when you keep your first string quarterback in despite leading the opposition by 40 points. Why would you keep Vince Young in? Lack of confidence in your second string? Lack of desire to hone the skills of your backups? Granted, many of the less visible positions had the second string on the field prior to Vince taking a break, but Vince’s presence was glaring and odious.

3. This was the first game of the season and I have to ease into the morass of obnoxious commercials that have brief moments of football floating in between. Have you ever wondered what the nubile, gyrating girls on beer commercials have to do with beer? Do you know many (any?) attractive women who guzzle beer regularly? Of course not. Those sylphs in the commercials aren’t drinking the beer; they're the form taken by women after you’ve been drinking beer. The man behind the curtain has been revealed. Be warned.

4. The scenes of beautiful Austin (shown between the moments of football and moments of advertisements) were soul-wrenching.

5. The game was meaningless. UT should have won, and effortlessly. However, next week the Longhorns take on the Ohio State Buckeyes for the first time ever. This clash between two of the biggest and most respected college football programs will be good theater. It will also be the first test of the Longhorns. I have faith in them; here’s hoping it’s not unfounded.

After the game, and thanks to DVR, I managed to watch a real football game with grand implications (and fewer commercials). The US Men’s National Soccer Team took on Mexico in their second meeting in the final round of World Cup Qualification. After a fairly uncreative -- but physical -- first half, the game opened up in the second. The U.S. took it to the undeservedly overconfident Tri-Colores, winning 2-0 (a score that should have been 3-0). With the win, the U.S. has qualified for the World Cup next year in Germany, and Mexico must earn a tie or a win in its final three qualifying matches -- which is should do by Wednesday.

It is unfortunate that ignorance and regional chauvinism combined to make this significant sporting event largely unnoticed by the American public, who are for the most part lost in their habitual opiates.

The U.S. continues the WCQ matches when it travels to Guatemala on Wednesday, September 7. Not needing a win, the U.S. can rest its veterans and test the mettle of other players who might become instrumental in our quest to win the World Cup.

Beating the world at their own game. Now THAT’s exciting theater.

But this coming Saturday? Hook ‘em.