The system is down

(What can I say? I'm a child of the times.)

If this weeks entries have seemed a bit off, it's because I've been a trifle off all week due to the intoxicating mixture of a cold, dayquil, nyquil, and my regular battery of medications. and by a trifle off, I mean, falling asleep unexpectedly, losing my voice, and dancing in the back of a truck outside of my house last night to the music only I seemed to be hearing. All in all, except for the fact I tend to get a bit grumpy when sick, it's one of the best, most entertaining times to know me. When I'm sick, I don't know anything about discretion. Which is only a bad thing because it's something I need for work. Ooops!

Still, I'm ill enough to decide to forgo a pleasant evening spent seaside for Miss Camille's birthday this weekend. Any guesses as to who will be there? That's right, Renaldo is taking a break from his busy boogaloo schedule to go and make puppy-dog eyes at his girl in several million. Which just reminds me of last year around this time was when his death-crush made it's Debut. And I'm talking about full on high society debut: it might as well have donned a gown and gloves and descended down the spiral stair to make an entrance into our workplace. (It would have done a lovely dance and looked so darling with a decorative fan)

Thinking about that night also reminds me how much I miss Sam, a fellow that came, worked for 6 months here, and changed my life. Sam, who remains the only person willing to even start up with me about the competition of the Spurs versus Mavericks. (there really isn't a competition: winning it all vs. being out in the first round thanks to the absolute genius of a single man bent on revenge). Sam, who when he sets his alarm always makes sure the digits add up to 9. I miss Sam 8 trillion times more than I miss Henry, which shows you my achilles heel. I love to have a crush; careless and spontaneous outpourings of emotion that in the end are not worth much. Examples include Henry (a great guy who I liked to like because he is funny and there was a game involved) and Rusty (not great guy I liked because I was dangerously bored).

Anyway, it makes me think of Sam because it was an occasion when he also joined us at a local libation station and imbibed. Can I say I miss him one more time? I MISS SAM!

Happy Birthday Camille!

April is not the Cruelest month

I don't often have the guts to get up and hit out at Eliot from the shoulder, but I have to disagree. April is not the Cruelest Month. July is, due to the total dearth of any acceptable spectator sports. April is a wonderful month for all NBA fans of teams with any credibility at all. I rejoice in April, for I am a San Antonio Spurs fan.

I have never even been to Texas, but I long have held the position (as a person who gets terribly sunburnt in the slightest solar radiation) that I would never live in Texas, except for in San Antonio because of the Spurs. And the river. I am fond of rivers.

The Spurs have no shortage of credibility. Three Championships in the last ten years. Their success, their hardworking gritty defense, their collective being makes my heart sparkle. And they have the amazing Trifecta of Foreign Perfection with Tim Duncan, Tony Parker, and Manu Ginobli. One day they will probably each have their own posts here, and one entirely dedicated to Tony's eyebrows. Polite Incredulity, anyone?

Can anything really compare to the second championship, clinched on Father's Day, and the last game of David Robinson's career? True, it took place in June, but it started in April, with the start of the playoffs.

Perhaps Eliot was referring to the fact that MLB starts in April. Now that is too cruel. It's nothing but a distraction. In fact, the juxtaposing of baseball and Playoff Basketball is similar to
playing the Spice Girls on a crappy boom box on stage while a full orchestra is playing Debussy in the pit. Truly, it is a fiendish punishment. The world deserves better.

But I will being enjoying the waning moments of April tomorrow as I watch the Spurs beat the Nuggets (who I actually like, and would want to win, except when playing a team I like more. I think AI and 'Melo is an intriguing combination especially if the rest of the team can transform from their injury-prone, made from balsa wood current form).

Let us close with a psalm of praise for Don Nelson and his ability to really screw with Dallas. Amen!