Happy New Year III- Reflections

Lot on my mind, and not a lot of time to write, so I sit here on a lazy Sunday afternoon a couple of weeks since the ball dropped. I no longer make resolutions as they tend to be trite and frivolous, but I have made several changes and observed many paradoxes over the last two weeks.

Tummy Time

I have lost the taste for fast food, so I do not have to wait until Lent to give that up. The convenience and cost do not supersede the taste and quality.

Since my botched colonoscopy, my level of flatulence has elevated egregiously.Diet and stress have also led to my “Methane Machine Gun,” so I have decided to take care of my tummy. I am limiting my consumption of dairy, and I am regularly taking Gas X, although I feel that is like shooting spit wads at a tank.

I have also eschewed soda and beer as the carbonation in these beverages seem to bloat me in a painful way. The soda is more of a sacrifice than the beer as I like a Mountain Dew or Dr. Pepper now and again, but I also have observed that craft beers and brew pubs are worse than any other.

I am a social animal, so I am looking for an alternative to beer, but I refuse to go the Truly, White Claw route. I will also add Coke to bourbon, just, because.

Fashionista

Aside from taking care of my tummy, I am making a concerted effort to look better. I am just as God made me, but I am trying to overlay that template with sartorial splendor.

Growing up color blind, I had a hard time matching clothes. Those scars run deep, so most of my wardrobe is plain and drab. Hard not to match tan; however, I am making a conscious effort to look nice. It is one thing to extend Casual Friday to other days of the week, and to dress in shorts and sweatshirts while I coach, but I am leaving the sloppy look in the classroom and on the field.

I am not doing this from vanity, but pride. Pride in my appearance begets pride in my self and in my life. We can not stop Father Time, but, on occasion, we can invite him to a formal dance.

Bust a Move

During my play, I had to dance like no one was watching, while many were watching. I love dancing in most circumstances, and I will often just break out some moves. The implication of this is simple; age is just a number. I am 55, but I am still a kid at heart, still an idiot.

Now, this does not provide an excuse to be immature or dismissive. What it does reveal, is that I still have the energy to pursue and develop new interests, while not caring too much how others view me.

I would like to learn to play the piano.

I would like to take a cooking class.

I would like take a formal dance class to learn how to fox trot, samba, and tango.

I would like to read, write, explore and love more.

I would like to travel and create memories.

I would like to tighten and deepen my circle of friends.

I would like to feel more connection, more alive.

I would like to realize that, as Bon Jovi says, “I am not old, just older.”

Paradox Potpourri

Many of my other observations defy cataloging, but they all seem to express some dichotomy or paradox, so I guess that works.

Crocs are a Croc – A burgeoning trend is teenagers wearing Crocs with the jiblets. To me, Crocs resemble the wooden shoes I used to ride at Storyland, and their lack of functionality is only outstripped by their hideousness. There is also a new style that looks like a bunch of golf balls glued together. I am at a loss.

https://images.app.goo.gl/hLzFzJvTQxKDQbud8

Kiosk Catastrophe – In a similar vein, when walking through the mall, especially during the holidays, I was assailed by salespeople shilling products from a kiosk–even jiblets for Crocs. Therein, lies the paradox. These kiosks provide easy access and easy purchase of products, but they sell nothing that people want to buy. I am not sure I will ever need wind-up cat toys, skin creme in condiment wrappers, or jiblets.

Quality Control – One of the major discussions this week revolves around the NFL. Yes, it is fixed. Yes, the production basically tells you what will occur in the game. Yes, I am for making the playing field even as football is the only sport that does not have weather controls. Oh, it’s cold in KC, bitter cold. Advantage KC. It’s raining in Baltimore. Snowing in Buffalo. Hard to breathe in Denver.

As a football coach, I understand that the variant conditions are quintessential football, but let the game be decided by the better team. The better X’s and O’s and the better Jimmys and Joes.

That rant over, I am more concerned about the Chiefs/Dolphins game being “exclusive” on Peacock. To be frank, I already subscribe to Peacock; where else would I get my professional wrestling fix? Also, they have categories of movies such as “cult classics”, “films of the 80’s,” and “films of the 90’s,” making it easy to find some staples of my youth.

If I can subscribe to Apple TV just to watch Ted Lasso, I am okay with streaming Peacock. What I am not okay with is the NFL holding its fans hostage. Well, Craig, it’s only $5.99 and you can cancel anytime. Sure, but when I pay a cover for a band, I tend to enjoy their music. The production last night was spotty and the product on display, especially for the playoffs, was atrocious.

This was one of the first years where I did not attend a live professional sporting event, and there are advantages to watching from home, but owners and players alike always thank the fans, but the rubber never meets the road.

The cost of being a fan is fantastic.

I am a bit jaded because my paycheck is almost stagnant but the price of live events is growing like the mysterious hair on my shoulders. I used to watch the Whalers “play” for free. I saw Blue October at The Webster for $40 a ticket. I saw professional wrestling in my high school gym. I even swallowed tickets to Foxborough to experience greatness.

Live events used to be accessible by the common man, but now, most are out of reach. In the new year, I want to attend more live events, but the greed of the NFL is becoming infectious. Bruins tickets are over $300 to get in the building, Blue October will cost you close to $150, and I, just for kicks, checked out tickets to Wrestlemania as it takes place in Philly this year.

Two-day passes start at $850 and to get close to the ring will cost at least $1,500 (per ticket!!). These events used to be for the masses; now, they are exclusive to folks with massive bank accounts.

There is nothing like a live event, but not to the exclusion of paying your mortgage. I subscribe to Peacock, but not for the NFL. If they are going to charge, they better improve the product on the field and the way it is broadcast.

The ultimate irony is that to see Taylor Swift’s Eras tour, it will cost you over $2,000 a ticket, but, last night, I saw enough of her for $5.99.

Happy New Year.

Love and laughter,

P.