Deep thoughts and a baseball rant.

So you know I asked a friend about it on a bad day
Her husband had just left her
She sat down on a chair he left behind, she said
"What is love ? Where did it get me ?
Whoever thought of love is no friend of mine"
--- Dar Williams, "Iowa (Travelling III)", from Mortal City

It's funny how a song can stick to a wall in your brain and refuse to leave you alone. Since I haven't had the time or werewithal to take on the virus yet, I've been stuck wtih the same grouping of songs on my player, and lately that's meant a lot of Dar. Not peppy Dar, either. I've been going between the song above, "If I Wrote You," "Spring Street," "When I was a Boy," and others like them. Some days its "Alleluia" on repeat and somedays it's "February," I guess.

Sometimes a song gets stuck in your head as a fluke. It's catchy or annoying and decides to just sit there. Others, it's because the song has captured a tiny piece of you (some might say your imagination) and stays because it's helping you to deal with something. I think in this case it's the latter. I'm trying to get to the root of the cause of this latest bout of the mean reds, and I think allowing myself to feel dissappointed about some of the things that haven't worked out the way I've wanted them to might help. I don't always allow myself to do that - I know it sounds like a simple thing, but I don't always allow myself to do it. I don't know if I subconsciously classify it as a weakness or a character flaw, or I don't want anyone in the world to know I've been let down. In truth, it happends - there are little disappointments and big disappointments, medium-sized and super saver jumbo-pack size. They're there, and trying to put on a brave face at the time and make everyone pleased with me and the fact that feel the way that they want me to feel (rather than how I actually feel) isn't productive, or good in the long run. I have to stop pushing the agenda forward that I am bothered by nothing, and nothing bothers me. It's not true, and it's not a defense mechanism I need anymore. But like most defense weaponry I've disabled, this needs time, effort, a steady pair of hands, and a cool head.

Speaking of which, I'd like to get something off of my chest. Say what you will about the Yankees (but hell, most of you already do. Which is fine). I suppose I've been leaning on the team too heavily because I associated them with other good times of this summer, but still, they are one of the few bright spots I've got going on. Last night kennfusion & I got into a bit of a row about the Yankees in general, and while I was trying to once again defend the team I've loved since almost before I was born (which, I may note, was in the 1980s, when they were AWFUL), I was struck by how absolutely Goddamned weary I was of defending my team all the fucking time. Now, I love the Yankees unconditionally. Sometimes they suck. Sometimes they're amazing. Sometimes they screw up. Just like every OTHER damned team in professional sports. I'm not sure if it's a hatred of New York in general or a hatred of success in general that has developed the vitrol against them throughout the years, but sometimes it seems that the Yanks receive the kind of boiling hatred that should be reserved for genuine criminals. I've seen people shrug their shoulders about Enron in one breath, and get blindly furious about the Yankees in another. Where's the logic there? Anyway, I'm digressing. The point is, I've done my best all season long to not piss on anyone else's favorites, to not gloat when others have watched their teams bomb. And I took all the shit thrown at me with as much of a smile as I could muster. I don't think asking for the same is too much. I think about all of you fans of the other teams before I speak ill of the teams themselves. All I'm requesting is the same courtesy. Don't kick my puppy; I don't kick yours.

Now, I eat my lunch.

Deep thoughts and a baseball rant.

So you know I asked a friend about it on a bad day
Her husband had just left her
She sat down on a chair he left behind, she said
"What is love ? Where did it get me ?
Whoever thought of love is no friend of mine"
--- Dar Williams, "Iowa (Travelling III)", from Mortal City

It's funny how a song can stick to a wall in your brain and refuse to leave you alone. Since I haven't had the time or werewithal to take on the virus yet, I've been stuck wtih the same grouping of songs on my player, and lately that's meant a lot of Dar. Not peppy Dar, either. I've been going between the song above, "If I Wrote You," "Spring Street," "When I was a Boy," and others like them. Some days its "Alleluia" on repeat and somedays it's "February," I guess.

Sometimes a song gets stuck in your head as a fluke. It's catchy or annoying and decides to just sit there. Others, it's because the song has captured a tiny piece of you (some might say your imagination) and stays because it's helping you to deal with something. I think in this case it's the latter. I'm trying to get to the root of the cause of this latest bout of the mean reds, and I think allowing myself to feel dissappointed about some of the things that haven't worked out the way I've wanted them to might help. I don't always allow myself to do that - I know it sounds like a simple thing, but I don't always allow myself to do it. I don't know if I subconsciously classify it as a weakness or a character flaw, or I don't want anyone in the world to know I've been let down. In truth, it happends - there are little disappointments and big disappointments, medium-sized and super saver jumbo-pack size. They're there, and trying to put on a brave face at the time and make everyone pleased with me and the fact that feel the way that they want me to feel (rather than how I actually feel) isn't productive, or good in the long run. I have to stop pushing the agenda forward that I am bothered by nothing, and nothing bothers me. It's not true, and it's not a defense mechanism I need anymore. But like most defense weaponry I've disabled, this needs time, effort, a steady pair of hands, and a cool head.

Speaking of which, I'd like to get something off of my chest. Say what you will about the Yankees (but hell, most of you already do. Which is fine). I suppose I've been leaning on the team too heavily because I associated them with other good times of this summer, but still, they are one of the few bright spots I've got going on. Last night kennfusion & I got into a bit of a row about the Yankees in general, and while I was trying to once again defend the team I've loved since almost before I was born (which, I may note, was in the 1980s, when they were AWFUL), I was struck by how absolutely Goddamned weary I was of defending my team all the fucking time. Now, I love the Yankees unconditionally. Sometimes they suck. Sometimes they're amazing. Sometimes they screw up. Just like every OTHER damned team in professional sports. I'm not sure if it's a hatred of New York in general or a hatred of success in general that has developed the vitrol against them throughout the years, but sometimes it seems that the Yanks receive the kind of boiling hatred that should be reserved for genuine criminals. I've seen people shrug their shoulders about Enron in one breath, and get blindly furious about the Yankees in another. Where's the logic there? Anyway, I'm digressing. The point is, I've done my best all season long to not piss on anyone else's favorites, to not gloat when others have watched their teams bomb. And I took all the shit thrown at me with as much of a smile as I could muster. I don't think asking for the same is too much. I think about all of you fans of the other teams before I speak ill of the teams themselves. All I'm requesting is the same courtesy. Don't kick my puppy; I don't kick yours.

Now, I eat my lunch.