Racing

Can I just say that I love racing? I know that sounds stupid, but I really do. Even when I suck ass at the discipline I'm participating in. There is just something about feeling that pain. Wondering why you are putting yourself through said pain. Putting yourself through more pain to sprint it out for higher a mid-pack place. Then, you finish and you absolutely know why you do it. You can't explain it but you feel it.

Can you guess that I raced today?

I got an e-mail from my Dad today. A bunch of gibberish about Liberals vs. Conservatives. I believe in good arguments about the virtues of each side left or right, but this "joke" just pissed me off to be honest with you. I let my Dad know how I felt about his e-mail. He said he read it as a joke. I said I think the people that send it along believe it to an extent. I think I pissed him off.

Well, I ended up watching Dateline AGAIN last night. Somehow I get sucked into that on Friday nights when I have neither the physical nor the mental energy to do anything else but watch TV. I guess I end up on Dateline because I don't have cable, so I only have 4 channels to choose from.

It was, however, a pretty interesting show. It was about Mark Chapman. You know, the guy that gunned down John Lennon. There were people on there that were arguing that he wasn't really off his rocker. That he did it for attention. HELLOOOOOOO. If you do that kind of thing for fame, I think you are off your rocker.

I learned a lot about Mr. Chapman and a few things about Lennon, but this thing dragged on forever. Forever I say. 2 freaking hours, but my ass was too tired to pull myself off the couch. Now, I don't know if you have watched any of those "TV magazine" shows where they only have a story and don't have any video footage to show you, but shit, I saw the same fucking five pictures of Mark Chapman at least 20 times. Every possible angle, again 20 times, of The Dakota, which is the building in which John, Yoko, and Sean lived. Same pictures of Mark Chapman again. The cover of The Catcher In The Rye at least 20 times. I guess ol' Markie boy had more than one obsession. The obsession with The Catcher supposedly planted the murder idea in his head, and believe now I know what the cover looks like. There had to be at least 15 minutes of shots of the cover taking up the 120 minutes contributed to the show.

Enough ranting. Like I said, it was pretty good, but it could have been wrapped up in an hour.

I don't know if I have disclosed this before, but I'm a Bama fan. Yes, they got their asses handed to them. Yes, it was by Auburn. No, I didn't go to Alabama, but a lot of my family did. I was on my way there, but I guess I didn't have the right people (or anyone) guiding me along. You would think with a family full of Alabama fans there would have been a little encouragement for me to go to Tuscaloosa. Every once and a while, I have a regret or two about that, but I probably wouldn't be out here if I had gone there.

I need another beer.

It's almost time to start skate skiing. In fact, I bet the mountains got enough snow this past week for some of the nordic centers to start opening. We'll see how the upper body holds up this year since I decided to forgo the weight room this fall.

I was in Urban Outfitters a couple of weeks ago and stumbled across a nice stainless steel flask. I flip it over and it has a picture of Jesus. Under the picture it reads, "What Wouldn't Jesus Do?" It made me laugh out loud in the store for about 5 minutes, so obviously I had to waste $14 on it. I filled it up with a Macallan 12 (probably a 14 or 15 by now) today and took it to the races. Took it with me out to watch the races after mine, but never took a nip. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe on Thanksgiving. To be honest with you, I thought it said, "What Would Jesus Do?" That's what really made me laugh. That makes more sense to my sarcastic mind, but it still makes me laugh now.

I'm going to get that beer. Later aight.