recognize

So I don't really feel that thankful this year. I know I should, but I don't.

I'm thankful my pops is still breathing air and telling stories, but I am angry he's had to suffer through such a painful and fucked up year.

I'm thankful my home life is peaceful and satisfying, but I am pissed off that my 65 hour a week job keeps me from getting much of a chance to enjoy it.

I'm thankful I can still play basketball, but I am depressed by how bad I have gotten at it.

I'm thankful that I have a slick lookin' iPhone, but I am irritated by the numerous ways in which it sucks.

I'm thankful that I finally got to grow a moustache, but i am disappointed by the fact that I had to remove it before it became a man.

One thing I am unreservedly thankful for is that I am now the official reigning champ of the punching game we have at work. I hit that thing with an 889 the other night, breaking the year-old record of 888. Then a few minutes later, I socked it with an 890. To get an idea of what an 890 is, it is estimated that Mike Tyson's most devastating knockout punch ever would have registered merely an 862 on our game.

So that feels pretty good.

I think if I ever get stinking rich, like at least 80 million in the bank, I will commission a miniaturized reproduction of the famous Larry Johnson-Alonzo Mourning fistfight from the '98 playoffs. It would have little figurines of all the key participants and a perfect little Madison Square Garden court. Of course, the centerpiece would be the Alonzo Mourning figure, complete with Jeff Van Gundy clinging to his leg:

You could come over and we could look at it whenever we wanted.

I will also give you ten dollars if you can dig up Gus Johnson's call of that fight, in which he described Van Gundy as "a little warrior."

Man, remember when the Knicks were relevant?

memories don't crumble

Some things have got me thinking about some things lately. Specifically, some things have got me thinking about Wisconsin.

I got an email from a college friend today, a guy I haven't spoken to in probably 16 or 17 years. He was one of the heroes of my early years in Madison and I rank him in the Top 5 most interesting characters I met there. Hilarious, argumentative, and sharp as a tack. He was a year older than me, and when I first met him he had that 80's haircut where the hair flopped down over his eye all new-wavey sorta-femme sensitive poet kid-like. He wore Smiths t-shirts and laughed at my dorky Springsteen obsession.

Because of his appearance, he initially struck me as a wounded artist type, a non-athlete to the core, somebody who would scoff at the very notion of competitive sports. Then one day I walked by the outdoor basketball courts by Ogg Hall and I saw him playing hoops against a bunch of serious players -- and killing them. And arguing. It was such a weird sight...as if Morrissey himself was out there drilling 20 footers and talking shit.

Anyway, it was a good reminder not to pass judgment based on looks, sounds and other superficial first impression bullshit and that served me well during my 6 years in the Badger State. For those keeping score, that's 4 1/2 years of college and a year and a half of dead-end jobs, excessive drinking, dreaming about what might one day be and feeling sorry for myself. That was a great year and a half.

So I got that email and then Dan K. forwarded me this article about the destruction of my old dorm. I knew it was underway and I can't say leveling it is a bad idea, but it makes me feel old and sad nonetheless. My dorm is gone, comrades! While you are hustling to get your own Ogg Hall t-shirts, I will leave you with the first of several Ogg-related posts that I will be laying down in the coming weeks.

Here goes:

Five Things That Happened In Ogg Hall between 1987 and 1989:*

1. My roommate, another dude and two girls from the floor above us had a fuckfest in my dorm room one night while I was still in NYC for Christmas break. It wasn't until like two weeks later, when I inquired about the three greasy, smelly stains on my comforter, that he giddily admitted what had happened. I washed the comforter and continued using it; I forgave the roommate like a year and a half later.

2. This.

3. A certain friend of mine was kicked out of our dorm for beating the shit out of his roommate. I saw and heard it live -- I will never forget the look of terror in the roommate's eyes, as he told the RA that he couldn't spend another night in the room with my friend.

"I'll sleep in your room," he told the RA. "I swear, every time the lights go out he just starts whaling on me."

At this point my friend would be in his own bed with the covers pulled up to his chin, calm as could be, insisting everything was fine.

"Come on, go to bed," he'd say, smiling innocently. "It's getting late. I'm tired."

At this point the RA would insist the roommate return to his bed and try to get some sleep. The RA would walk away, the lights would go out, and I would hear a series of sounds that indicated one person was mauling the shit out of another. Screams, furniture crashing, leading to the inevitable return of the RA. Then my friend would play innocent again. It was terrifying. The next day they had both been transferred to different dorms across campus.

4. I and several others participated in the making of a gay porn spoof video that fell into strange hands but has hopefully since been erased. It was less offensive and less gay than it actually sounds, but I would be happy to bury it forever.

5. My roommate actually hung a Playboy centerfold on the wall of our room. I would remember the picture in an instant if I saw it today. She was a cutie, for sure. But how did this actually happen? The dude was somewhat of a ladies' man, too....and he would leave the centerfold up when his girlfriends and conquests were in the room! It was 1987, what are ya gonna do, I guess. The world still related to Top Gun on an unironic level.

I will post better stories and some more archival photos soon.

*NOTE: These aren't necessarily the most interesting, or funny, or life-changing moments. They are just some moments. I have chosen them because I remember them right now and because I don't think they will embarrass anyone too much. Feel free to tack on your own if they meet these criteria.

hero

A guy in our accounting department -- a young dude, maybe a junior accountant -- simply walked off the job the other day, never to return. No goodbye, no formal declaration of quittage, he just up and left. Papers still stacked on his desk, post-its regarding past due invoices clinging to his monitor, the message light on his phone forever illuminated. But the dude himself just said, "Fuck this." And now he's gone.

He did it.