The Bucs pics make me slightly nervous.
More on this later.
Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device from U.S. Cellular
Monday, April 27, 2009
Friday, April 24, 2009
A story for the kids!
Warning: this is completely un-sports related. Sorry..maybe I can tie in a reference in the end...
Since today was the first semi-not-freezing day of '09, the Key West girl in my celebrated by sporting white pants and getting my design work done to the sounds of Damian Marley etc..
It was an enormous mood lift and it felt so great to run around (my apartment) like the scrappy little barefoot island kid that I am at heart. Especially since hockey* was sad last night AND I found out I need to have my tonsils out...etc, etc mild peril, the usual.
Anyway..while I was alternating hoola hooping and doing actual work, I was daydreaming about how decent this summer could be...reggae Sundays on Peaks Island, getting a D-League team, boat adventures in the midcoast... Especially Reggae Sundays..which brought back a memory that I had forgot until today....
Picture it: Williamsburg, Virginia. I am about 13 years old and I have just moved to the VA to spend a few months with my mother and stepfather. They, at this point, are unaware of what an "independent" and "spirited" child I am. Heh heh.
A few days into my stay, I find out about a Ziggy Marley concert in Richmond that I absolutely MUST go to. Lawrence Taylor is from Richmond**. My folks decline, as they can't take me since they are spending that weekend golfing somewhere fancy. This doesn't really phase me, because I didn't want THEM to take me..I mean how embarrassing...I just wanted to go. So they left for the weekend, and I, in turn, decided to borrow the Benz to drive to Richmond (p.s I'm newly 13..but this isn't my first road trip...). Now at this point I must note that my intentions on these "adventures" were never mean spirited or to "rebel"...I simply knew what I wanted to do and was confident that I could accomplish it. If no one finds out..no harm, no foul...right?
So bought the tickets over the phone with my Dad's mastercard and set out in the family whip.
As I remember it, I got into Richmond, but had no idea where the venue was. I called the number from my enormous prehistoric Nokia cell phone (remember this was a long, long time ago) and called the promoter.
Problem #1: the concert was cancelled.
Problem #2: the concert was cancelled due to the tornadoes sweeping around Virginia that evening.
I was wondering why the sky went black so early...
So, I started driving back to the 'Burg, but it became evident that the weather was not going to make it easy. I ended up making it almost all the way..but to stop in the Powhattan vicinity to huddle into a hotel lobby with a bunch of strangers due to a "Twister" like scene headed right for me.
Everything ended up being fine and I only got caught because the ticket office called the house phone and left a message about the cancellation...and I didn't bother to check it (even then, I was allergic to voice mail).
Wow! That was pointless, but it illustrates the following facts:
a). I have been carrying the burden of being awesome for many years.
b). You should probably check the weather before you set out on any underage adventure.
And c). At ONE time in my life I could read a map.
*by that I mean AHL hockey...besides that, chyeah Ducks! P.s that's sports reference #1..
**sports reference #2, in case you weren't keeping track.
Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device from U.S. Cellular
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Sunday News Ruckus
1. Michigan State tailback Glenn Winston is facing six months in jail as the result of an off-campus fight a few months ago. Apparently MSU is going to let him keep his scholarship and will receive tutoring while in jail. Honestly, I'm not mad at it. Blame it on my 'Thug U' background (UrbanDictionary.com goes as far to define the Miami Hurricanes as the "Official supplier to state prisons" and "The college version of the Cincinatti Bengals", also stating "During team meetings the Miami Hurricanes come up with alibis"). But, joking aside, I believe in second chances. Especially since:
a) The kid is effing nineteen years old. If my future were to depend upon my nineteen year old self, I would not be in jail, I would be in prison! Maybe even Hell....
b) He IS going to jail, after all. I mean, even with tutors, jail is no walk in the park. It's going down on his record. He is getting repercussions.
c) I strongly believe that punishment alone is a poor solution to violence. Having a future to focus on makes it a lot harder to make reckless decisions. I'm not saying that it's gauranteed to make someone "do the right thing", but it certainly doesn't hurt.
That said, I do not believe that endless leniency is appropriate either. In short: Don't fuck it up, Winston! Don't make me look like some bleeding heart by getting on some PacMan bullshit when you get out. Keeping it real can and will go wrong.
-End Rant-
2. In High School Baseball news, the South Dade Bucs (14-10) took the season series, 2-1 over the Key West Conchs. That sucks, Cuzzy Bubbas.
3. Artie Lange's disdain for the Mets has so infected my brain that everytime I hear anything having to due with a gay pride parade, gay bar etc... Literally the first automatic thing that pops into my brain is "Oh, where is it? Shea Stadium?".
4. While we are on the subject of my feeble mind, it seems my subconscious is also easily influenced. Case in point: due the amazing wit and sharp humour of my favorite Buffalo Sabres blogs, I have been having re-accuring dreams about Derek Roy. Now, not those kind of dreams, my loves. Weird, weird dreams.
Example #1: The other night I had a dream that I was at a party and Derek Roy was talking to me, but he was a "close talker" and it was making me extremely uncomfortable. Then he told me in strict confidence that he was being sent to Fat Camp.
Example #2: After a long evening of slaving over Red Velvet Cupcakes, I fell alseep only to have a dream that I couldn't make cupcakes fast enough because Derek Roy kept heisting them! Specifically trying to smuggle them under his sweater and in his man-purse. Oh, it was terribly messy! Then at some point he kind of morphed into Smurfette from the Smurfs and then it got really confusing.
There's more but I don't want to sound like a total baser...
5. I'm excited about The Joe Flacco Show this season. Not exactly news, but worth stating.
6. Raheem Morris may not hate me after all! Actually acknowledging that we need to address out defensive situation? That's a hell of a lot closer to "staying the course" than "crushing a young girls dreams".
7. I am officially fucking horrible at Big Buck Hunter. I am great, however, at Big Doe Poacher.
8. This whole "visting with the other half of my family" weekend is like waterboarding except the government would also be accusing you of being anorexic every five minutes. Listen up, People! I AM 250 POUNDS OF CONCRETE CYANIDE!! Oh wait, that's Tim Tebow.... well, close enough.
Because I am on the verge of complete mental breakdown, I am providing with a list of things that will keep me from going all Tyler Hamilton and claim that I have an evil twin who is actually the one blood doping... Yadadamean? More presents = less cray cray!
On a somber note....
(image via Best Bucs, where there is a great tribute from a few years ago)
April 1st would have been former Hurricane Sean Taylor's 26th birthday.
Sean was an amazing athlete who I first became familiar with during his high school football days at Gulliver Prep.
He was "Big East Conference Defensive Player of the Year" in 2003, his final year at the University of Miami and a first round draft pick for the Washington Redskins.
As you may know, November 27th 2007, Sean died from gunshot wounds sustained the previous day at his home in Palmetto Bay, Florida.
It seems like only yesterday that we watched the news in silence, unable to believe that he did not make it.
He will never be forgotten.
It saddens and angers me that justice has not been served, especially considering the recent news concerning the trial, which has already been delayed enough.
Rest in Peace
Yesterday was a sad day for me personally, for a different reason.
I try to return to the Northeast every Spring, regardless of where I am. I have a ritual of visiting my brother's final resting place at a peaceful cemetery on the coast of Maine. Sometimes I bring flowers, but mostly I removed leaves that fell during the fall and got trapped by the ice and snow. I hate to think of it covered, hidden by overgrowth, forgotten.
My brother was probably the one person who was actually capable of understanding me. We share the same traits, both good and bad. We are both carbon copies of our father.
He died suddenly and unexpectedly at age 26, which is how old I am now.
His death tore through my family in a way that can never be mended. It changed all our lives forever, as one would expect. It changed who we are/were inside.
Every year I miss him more, because every year there are endless new things that I urgently need to tell him. Adventures I need to share, ideas I need critiqued, antics to report that only he would appreciate. The list grows and grows, endlessly.
This is an excerpt from an Editorial in the paper after his death:
".....also died last week, at age 26. While he lived he was a young man of great charm and winning bluster, unsure and cocky at once, as the young so often are......[his] problems with substances both liquid and powdered were well-known among his large circle of friends. He tried to kick them, but apparently, couldn't. Had [he] lived to be an old man, he would have been a genuine original. That he didn't is and will be a loss those who knew him.... It is easy to say goodbye to someone whose life was long and full, whose time, by normal biological clocks, had come. It is too difficult to do so for one who dies so young. ......May his life be remembered with all fondness. May his death be a lesson."
That last line has been permanently etched into my heart and my mind.
I carry that original editorial with me always, tucked into the pocket of a Moleskine notebook, but I have never shared it before.
football season is looming....
...and this "blog" needs a complete overhaul! Not just a shot of Botox and a new haircut, I'm talking a makeover of "The Swan" proportions. And by that I mean filled with cruelty and narcissism. Much like my soul.
I promise I will start using spellcheck. Ok, sometimes I will use spellcheck.
Some things to keep in mind:
1. Sun, Oct. 25 the Bucs will take on the Patriots in London. No, I will not be sporting my Joey Galloway jersey. I would also recommend avoiding whichever bar I am watching this game in. Trust me, you will not like the equation. Ashley + New England Fans + Bourbon + Sporting Event = Prison Time, I'm sure. Noticed I didn't say jail time.
2. Lately I have had a strong urge to photoshop pictures of Gruden and I so it looks like we are hanging out. And then I want to Blingee them.
3. Sabres are out, obv. Need I say more?
4. The Frozen Four was effin' epic this year.
5. I'm on the hunt for some Lawn Darts to add to my "Summer Shenanigans" kit. So far I have a slip-n-slide, a croquet set (for tackle croquet, of course), hot pink spray paint....
6. On a happy note, Pirates are in the race for the Calder Cup.
7. The other night some dude interrupted one of my tangents to ask if I was Jon Gruden's publicist.
8. Portland is getting a NBA D-League team. This pleases me greatly.
9. I'm getting kind of obsessed with Scott Ferrall. He calls everything! It gives me the vapors. But I can't find a Team Ferrall shirt small enough for me. Boo.
10. I hate the announcers on Versus.
11. Now that Madden has retired, the Crime Mob song "All Madden" has an entirely different meaning for me.
12. I don't know how to rotate photos.13. I'm having a Derby Days party. You're all invited.
14. I had to remove some of the old content because I'm locked out of my Flickr Pro account. I forgot my password. Yeah, I'm that dumb. I will rework it and put it back up later.
15. The Dolphins have such a bullshit schedule this year....then again the Bucs don't really have it that great either.
16. I'm really excited to get out on the golf course. Hell, even mini-golf! I'm bout it bout it! If anyone needs a caddy, hit me up!
um, and speaking of caddies...17. U 2008 Highlight Reel!
18. From the 7th Floor Blog, Clinton Portis was voted "Favorite Redskin" by Special Olympians
19. Also seen @ 7th Floor Blog (obviously a favorite) this amazing photo of Plaxico Burress at his court appearance. Maybe he's just stoked about the Spartan's making it to the final game?
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