Jim Bell texted me in church (OK, I texted him first) to say he and Slick Andy were on their way to my house on CX bikes. By the time "they" arrived, it was only Jim with a bright red face, looking very, very cold. Schlicht had already bailed. I've been out in cold but humid weather like this (most of last winter), and I have learned that an hour or two of suffering and freezing is followed by 8 or 12 hours of trying but failing to get warm. I've laid in a whirlpool tub full of water that was unthinkably hot any other time but failed to thaw my bones after one of Mattie's long "grav" rides.
Needless to say, I gave Jim a lame excuse about waking up with a sore throat (true), and wanting to spin while I watch the stinkin' Vikings later this afternoon (also true). He didn't say so, but gave the distinct impression that he was relieved to turn around and ride home. Even Crazy Man Bell was not relishing a 4 hour icy marathon on the CX bikes. DOC'S ADVICE: when it's below 20 degrees, no amount of technical garments or shoes will keep you from getting frozen solid. If that's your thing, feel free. Doc is going to take his own best advice today: stay home or go skinny skiing.
I watched the Giants-Patriots game last night (on TiVo, of course since I can't stand most of the commercials nowadays). What a fantastic game for both teams. New York didn't have to put their 1st team out there at all, since they're in for sure, unlike the stinkin' Vikings who not only have to beat Denver today, but have to hope Dallas' 2nd team beats a very motivated Washington (ain't gonna happen). It was truly a pleasure watching two teams trying their hardest to win just for the sake of winning.
When I record games like the Giants-Pats last night, I always record the next program as well. I've missed the last 2 minutes of too many games by not doing so. I figured this out a couple of years ago watching the Tour de France and missing the final sprint most of the time because the race coverage spilled over into the next program (which didn't automatically get recorded).
Last night, after finishing that very satisfying game, I FF'd through the 10pm news and noticed that "My Chemical Romance" was the featured band on SNL, so I continued FFing until I found their number "Welcome to the Black Parade". Some of my more committed readers (most of you probably should be committed for wasting so much time on this doggerel. BTW, I've used that word a couple of times in the last few posts. Here is the Oxford definition: "n. 1. comic verse composed in irregular rhythm. 2. verse or words that are badly written or expressed." It's a wonderful contraction of the Old English "dog" meaning "dog" and the Latin "rel" meaning "little in a contemptuous sense." I'm grateful to my committed readers for showing compassion and even affection for my little dog of a blog) may remember a little rant I did on Emo, or emotional hardcore punk. It sounded to me like Emo was neo-punk, but with more crying and less screaming.
Turns out that apparently nobody actually wants to be labeled "Emo", not even those groups that clearly are. My Chemical Romance sounds emo to me (but what do I know), and critics and fans alike seem to identify them as such. Still, MCR's lead singer, Gerard Way, vehemently denies that they are Emo, saying "Emo is a pile of [doo-doo]." Welcome to the Black Parade" certainly tries to pay homage to Marilyn Manson, but MCR seems too wholesome to do the "shock rock" thing. MM apparently recorded "Mutilation is the Most Sincere Form of Flattery" in critcism of MCR's "lightweight" attempts to mimic him.
The whole thing is way too goth for my taste, but it was interesting listening to MCR on SNL. I think I'm done with any further fascination with Emo. Cool music, but I can't relate to the self-contempt and the-world-is-about-to-end nihilism. DOC'S ADVICE: there's way too much to life than unhappy navel-gazing. At the risk of sounding insensitive, just get over it and start paying attention to something bigger than your life and problems. Viktor Frankl said that what really sets humans apart is our ability to choose how we are going to respond to our situation. BTW, he was the only member of his extended family to survive Auschwitz death camp during WW2.
Oo, that seems a little heavy for this blog of doggerel. Better quit while I'm behind. On to watch the stinkin' Vikes, a lightweight topic if there ever was one...
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