Sports Teams? Ehh...Not a fan.

Take Me Out To The Ballgame

Sonny: Mickey Mantle? That's what you're upset about? Mantle makes $100,000 a year. How much does your father make? If your dad ever can't pay the rent and needs money, go ask Mickey Mantle. See what happens. Mickey Mantle don't care about you. Why care about him? 

Calogero: [narrating] After that, I never felt the same way about the Yankees.

Much like Calogero in A Bronx Tale, there was a point in time when I was passionate about my sports teams. I used to be a Mets fan. I can admit that publicly now. They were the first sports team I ever liked; they were the cause of my earliest, greatest sports memory (even though I was asleep during the infamous grounder); they had some of my favorite players in any sport ever; and they were the cause of many a' heartbreaks.You may wonder if these heartbreaks are the real cause for the abandonment of my once beloved team, and I would have to admit that the Mets' collapse in the 2006, 2007, and 2008 seasons certainly didn't help (watching each collapse live at Shea stadium DEFINITELY didn't help) but those miserable failures are not the major reason for my decision to no longer root for sports teams.

I'm not mad at the players, mind you. I agree with Sonny that we shouldn't idolize these guys (or girls) and that in general they make way too much money, but that's our fault as consumers. We keep buying the tickets and merchandise (and cable tv packages) at the outlandish prices, so they are simply making what they are worth. If we put more value on education and health care and things like that, people in those fields would get paid more. Pay is associated with the value we put on whatever service is provided, so we can't blame the players for making stupid amounts of money. If we want to make a change, we can't keep investing our time, money, and energy on loyally rooting for them. They don't care about us, why do we care so much about them?

That being said, I still root for individual athletes. I don't idolize them by any means, and I haven't bought any merchandise in a long time, but I like specific players and I enjoy when they succeed.

And I still love watching sports. In fact, I'd say I enjoy sports more now than ever before. I'm not mindlessly attached to some franchise that doesn't even have the best interest of their team in mind. I'm no Red Sox fan, but hearing former manager Terry Francona talk about the owners ordering him to sign "sexy" players would be stomach turning IF I actually cared about the team. If you're a Mets fan, you know how maddening it can be to follow the moves of a losing organization. In fact, science says rooting for a losing team is bad for your health (note that the first picture in that article is a Mets fan). I'm sure you know people (or maybe you are this person) who lose their minds when their teams lose. Their entire day is ruined because some guys they never met played better than some other guys they never met.

Sports are businesses. Some teams are run well, some are not. I'm a...wait, excuse me...I used to be a Dolphins fan. I suffered through watching Dan Marino try to win games with no running back or defense, then I watched one of the league's best defenses try to win games with Jay Fiedler/Chad Pennington/Chad Henne/Insert Horribly Mediocre QB's Name Here. It's not worth the heartache rooting for these teams when the guys running the franchise either don't care or simply don't know what they're doing.

Pictured: Morons

Everybody hates on Lebron James because he left Cleveland for Miami. First off, just looking at it big picture-wise, you wouldn't choose living in Miami, Florida over Cleveland, Ohio?! Stop it. But let's look at it in basketball terms. You play for the Cavs, a notoriously awful team with no championship history. They've had 7 years to build around you and the best they could do was bring in Shaq-Fu the Ancient; when that doesn't work, they bring in Antique Jamison as your one-two combo. Every team in the league wants you. Miami is a relatively new team that has one championship already. They have one of the best coaches in NBA history as an executive. The guy who single-handedly won their first championship is still on the team and is one of your best friends in the league and life in general. They are trying to bring in a third All-Star and continue to build the team around you. Cleveland has Anderson Varejao.

We would all leave.

He didn't do it for the money; he took less money than he would have made elsewhere. People say he should have tried to turn the team around. He did. Look at the Cavs before and after Lebron James to see what he did for that team. He can't sign teammates himself, although they might have been better off if they let him.

So he did what any one of us would have done: throw a very tacky tv special announcing his departure. Okay, that was ill-advised, but it raised a million dollars for Boys and Girls clubs, and if Lance Armstrong has taught us anything, it's that if we raise money for a good cause, people will forgive us for any negative acts we may have committed.

People slander him for joining a team with a proven superstar in Dwayne Wade. Every NBA champion had at least one other great player on his team, from Jordan/Pippen to Bird/McHale/Parish to Magic/Abdul-Jabbar/Worthy to Bill Russell and all those short white guys to Olajuwon/Smith/Big Shot Bob Horry. Even Dwayne Wade had a still-somewhat-agile Shaq. Those guys were just lucky enough to start their careers on a team with other good players.

I don't blame Lebron for going to a decent franchise. Should we blame a lawyer for choosing a firm with a proven track record over a shady firm with no clients? Wouldn't you choose to work at a successful company over a failure? That's all sports teams are: companies. Corporations. They are looking for the best dollar value; sometimes that means getting players and coaches that will win a championship, sometimes that means getting the cheapest talent available. There is no loyalty from players towards their teams because there is no loyalty from owners towards their players. Therefore, why should fans have loyalty towards any team?

I learned early on that owners will do whatever makes them the most money, despite what the fans want. I was never a huge hockey fan, but I did enjoy going to Whalers games in downtown Hartford. That didn't last too long, as the owner decided he could make more money in North Carolina. I know people who are still heartbroken about it.

Then there's the name and uniform changes. One of my favorite NBA teams just changed their team colors and name to the historically awful New Orleans Pelicans. Very intimidating. Honestly, though, if I spent money on merchandise for the New Orleans Hornets recently, I might be a little upset. Keeping up with teams is too difficult. The Hornets actually started in Charlotte before moving to New Orleans in 2002. Then, after Hurricane Katrina, they played their home games in Oklahoma City and were known as the New Orleans/Oklahoma City Hornets for 2 years. They came back to New Orleans, and soon after, the Seattle SuperSonics became the Oklahoma City Thunder. Now the Hornets will be the Pelicans, and the Charlotte Bobcats, who started as an expansion team a few years after the Hornets left North Carolina, will become the Charlotte Hornets, but they will keep the history of the Bobcats while the Pelicans maintain the history of the original Hornets.

Why should I (and how can I?!) become emotionally involved in all this?

I'm simply going to enjoy watching the best players compete against each other. I'm not going to hate some player just because he always beats my favorite team (unless it's Tom Brady or anyone else on the Patriots...they are cheaters and they screwed Hartford over, so I can still spend some time and energy hating them). Instead of hating on players just because they always win, I'm going to enjoy watching them pull off plays like this. The things these players can do is nothing short of miraculous, and as a sports fan in this day and age, you should simply enjoy watching instead of flipping out when your team can't stop them. Some people legitimately wish harm on athletes because they play on a rival team. What sense does that make? I can understand hating a player or coach for being a genuine asshole (see: Patriots) but just for being talented?

Another thing that really caused a downhill spiral in my fandom is the prevalent use of performance enhancing drugs in sports. More specifically, each leagues' hypocrisy towards drug use in their sports. Drug use can't be as rampant as it is without some complicity from the people running the leagues. Even if they are not complicit in the drug use, they mostly look the other way, except for a few highly publicized cases. But those who get caught, even Mr. CheatStrong himself, are just scapegoats. There are obviously much bigger problems than one or two individuals in each sport (cycling is the worst offender of all sports) yet in each league, we see a few suspensions and maybe some harsh words from the commissioner. There have never been drastic changes.

Baseball, for example, has yet to remove the taint of the so-called steroid era. As much as Dark Lord Bud Selig and the Holier-than-thou Baseball Writers of America try to disparage the players of that era, they had no problem building careers off the popularity that era brought the MLB. Watching the McQwire-Sosa home run race is still one of my best memories in sports, along with watching Barry Bonds tie and then break the home run record. I am by no means exonerating the players, they should face serious ramifications, but they were only effects of the problem, not the cause.

I still love watching sports, but I'm not emotionally invested in any teams. I am more emotionally invested in the New Britain High School baseball and football teams because I know the coaches and work with some of the kids. It's a cliche, but sports at that level are more pure, especially with the guys I know. However, I still enjoy watching pro sports more than any other level. Pro sports teams are the most fun to watch because they are the most talented, I just don't care about them anymore.

Especially the goddamn Mets.

I Love You All...Class Dismissed.

Mardi Gras 2012 Video

I have finally uploaded the Mardi Gras video from my trip earlier this year. Enjoy.

BTW, NSFW.

That means "by the way, not safe for work." I guess I could have just written that in the first place and saved time. 

I Love You All...Class Dismissed.

5 Reasons to Visit (And Question the Sanity of) New Orleans

Louis Armstrong, "When The Saints Go Marching In"

After a 9 year absence, I returned to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. More than anything else, there was a sense that not much had changed. The southern hospitality was still there, the overall jovial spirit was still there, even the playlist at Razzoo's bar was the same. And the beads. The massive amount of beads in every shape and size imaginable. Watching people do anything for these very cheap balls of plastic on a string will always be the most hilarious concept to me. And when you're in the thick of it, with thousands of screaming, laughing, and most importantly, accepting people around you, it all makes perfect sense. As my friend Jeremy put it, you feel "at home and on a different planet."

It's the same, but yet something's a bit off.

For this trip to the Big Easy, I was the experienced veteran showing around the newcomers. I almost felt like a local showing the out-of-towners how it's done in my town (even though I haven't been in nine years and I only lived there for 3 months). As I said before, New Orleans will always hold a special place in my heart. It's a place that stays with you. There is an indistinguishable, overwhelming atmosphere of pleasure over everything else that finds its way into your soul and never leaves. They handle life a little differently down there. Their response to hard luck and constant struggle is to party harder. They even named their most popular local drink after a natural disaster that frequently destroys a good portion of the city. Good food, good  music, and good spirits solve everything, and you are more than welcome to join them and find out.

"Poorly Constructed Levy System" just doesn't have the same ring to it as "Hurricane".

Here are five reasons you have to absolutely love, or be completely baffled by, the city of New Orleans, Louisiana.

The Food
When we arrived on Saturday, it was raining rather hard, and it definitely affected the number of people out on the streets. I was starting to worry that we wouldn't get a great experience on our first night. Then we stopped to get dinner at a restaurant on Bourbon Street and my worries were put to rest.

I didn't really pay attention to any of the names of the restaurants because I knew they would all be great (and I was a tad distracted to be honest). We literally chose any random little restaurant we could find as soon as anyone felt hungry. And we were always satisfied.

Catfish, hush puppies, and fries for the first meal. 

Crawfish soup and biscuits with gravy made from God's semen, if God's semen is the most delicious thing you ever tasted. And why wouldn't it be?

Oysters.

OYSTERS!

If you are a fan of fattening food, or seafood, this is the place for you. Most of the food is fried and greasy, and served in large portions. Those oysters had to be exposed to gamma rays or something.

I love cajun food, and I had an excellent caesar salad with cajun chicken, as well as crawfish pasta. Late one night, I even succumbed to the street meat vendors and bought chicken on a stick. I doused it with cajun seasoning and went to town. I discovered that night that New Orleans street chicken on a stick = AMAZING.

Then there are Lucky Dogs. Anybody who's been to New Orleans knows about Lucky Dogs. I no longer eat mammals so there was no chance of me eating one; in fact, I don't think I ate one after my first trip ten years ago. You get to a point where you realize you will never eat one again if your life depended on it, and I reached that point after about 4 Lucky Dogs on my first trip. One of my fellow travelers did eat one, though, and he enjoyed it...until later that night, of course.

The majority of the food is absolutely delicious, but there's a reason Louisiana is the second fattest state in the nation.

The Music
Music. Sweet music. There's music everywhere. You walk into a random bar and a live band is playing, and they are always enjoyable. It's usually rock-and-roll or jazz, or a combination of the two, and there's a certain energy that all of the performers exude that rubs off on the listeners. The music is truly the lifeblood of the city. There's a tinge of melancholy, but it's always balanced with humor and the spirit of survival.

In addition to the live bands, there were parades with high school and college marching bands, loud music blasting through the windows and balconies, and impromptu parades with makeshift bands down the side roads. Walking down one side street led us into the middle of a random costume/dance/drum-circle/garbage-can-bongo one-block parade. It was fantastic.

There's nothing bad you can say about the music, but it's just fascinating to see how much music plays a part of everything, and how the music expresses the spirit of the place. On at least three different occasions, large groups of people started dancing in the street in what looked to be a choreographed dance sequence, except it was simply a group of people who heard music coming from a bar, saw other people dancing, and joined in, following the moves of everybody else. In the middle of a crowded street. I had never seen anything like it.

In a moment that truly reflects the positive, circular vibes happening in the NOLA, we were walking past the Dueling Piano bar, and one of my friends said, "I wish they'd play some Bob Marley. I'm surprised we haven't heard any." Twenty seconds later? They're playing No Woman, No Cry.

Circle.

The People
On any vacation, the people you go with always make a big difference in the level of enjoyment. I've been lucky with all my times in New Orleans. I've had great company every time. This trip was no different. In our hotel room at the Queen and Crescent on Camp St. (to find it, walk down Canal Street towards the smell of used cat litter...great place, though!) there were four people: myself, J-Rock, Dizzle, and Feelin' Good Frank aka Frankie Fish aka Frankie Butt-Wipes aka Frank's Red Hot aka One Hurricane and I pull My Dick Out Frank aka Forever Changing Frank aka Frank Van Winkle aka Trigga Face Frank aka Flamingo Frank aka Southern Fried Puke Frank aka Motorboatin Frank. Long story short of this inside joke: Captain Frank wanted a nickname, so we had a few suggestions...

The point is, we came equipped with a good crew, which is important wherever you go, especially in a party with hundreds of thousands of strangers. Plus, there were several other friends of ours down there that we hung out with sporadically, so that was cool.

The other thousands of people were pretty cool, too. It's actually incredible when you think about how relatively few incidents of crime occur considering the number of (drunk) people in such a small space. I guess that says something positive about human nature.

I think it's just the vibe down there, too. Everybody is just chill. Starting the day with a beignet and a Hurricane helps, but Southern hospitality really exists. The locals are, for the most part, the friendliest people you'll ever meet. They move a little slow and talk a little funny, but they will make you feel like family.

Now, don't get me wrong, with that many people, and that much alcohol, it's bound to get a little testy. When you are literally shoulder to shoulder, chest to back, trying to walk down the street with a drink in your hand and not lose your friends at the same time, you get the urge to shove everybody by the face so they'll just move already. You've been walking all day and just want to take a piss, but there's a line 30 deep and the port-a-potty is overflowing with some kind of thick liquid that's going to  make you vomit just thinking about what it could be, so you're running out of patience.

And then there are the Jesus freaks. All due respect to my Christian brother and Sisters (I was one of you once!) but nobody wants to hear that shit on Bourbon Street. And if you think I'm being harsh, imagine getting harassed every day by dozens of naive college students, telling you to change your life. They're not even the worst of it. The worst are the people holding on to each others' shoulders and forming long lines down Bourbon, holding crosses and signs with phrases like, "Homo Sex Is Sin". It's all part of the absurdity,though. All aspects of life are represented. And it does give me a tingle of enjoyment when the Jesus freaks walk through the gay district and everybody boos and throws beads at them, yet nobody gets truly violent.

Yeah, it can get a little nasty. But for the most part, everybody keeps their cool. Besides, it's the tourists who are the assholes. During other times of the year, it's not nearly as overrun by drunk douchebags.

In another scene that reflects the spirit of New Orleans, me and J-Rock were down by the river, taking a break from the insanity on Bourbon. A young lady in purple spandex pants, a yellow and black tank-top, and what looked like ballet slippers, approached us and started chatting. She was very friendly, sitting on the rocks looking out at the river. She was from Atlanta and visiting for a few days. When the conversation turned to music, we asked what she liked and she said, "Oh, I don't know, everything? I'm not really sure. I'm on acid." And that little bombshell was not one bit out of the ordinary. It was just something that you came to expect after a few days in the Big Easy.

Hi, Sam!

The Beads

There are necks and torsos in there somewhere.

Some people (who have never been to Mardi Gras) wonder why people go so crazy over beads. They are just cheap plastic necklaces that usually end up staining your clothes and skin. They are an environmental catastrophe, and they make unsuspecting walkers-by slip and fall on the disgusting, beer-and-piss soaked streets, scuffing up their knees and embarrassing them in front of a group of young ladies ready to expose themselves. Goddamn beads!

But man, those beads are better than cash money down there. It's like any financial system; certain objects are valued higher than others, and the value is not intrinsic, it comes from the public's perception and demand of the object. And the public demands big, shiny, unique beads. 

Talking, dancing pigs get mad love, for example. Boas are also a hot commodity for the ladies.

Beads fly down from the balconies, fly up from the streets, fly over from the sidewalks...there is no escaping the wrath of the beads. There are always a few balconies that switch it up a bit, too. One balcony threw superballs down to the street, dozens at a time. Cups and glow-stick necklaces were popular, but possibly my personal favorite (besides the time I got the pig) was the guy on a side street off Bourbon throwing cheese balls down from the balcony. It was the perfect hit at that moment and it was just really funny watching people catch flying cheese balls in their mouths in the middle of the street.

The first night we were there, people were very generous with their beads. As a group of four guys, we got some really good beads without doing anything. It was surprising, but then I realized it was the first night for a lot of other people, too. They didn't truly understand the value of their beads. When it got to Fat Tuesday, the four of us didn't stand a chance of getting beads bigger than bb's, and our best beads only went to the most attractive, or the most daring, or the most massive, or the most unique sets of chest-puppies.

Some people who've never been there might judge others for flashing or doing some other silly act to get beads, but that's because you need to be immersed in the culture to understand it. There is no judging down there, there is no shame; flashing is such a natural occurrence that you are the oddball if you don't flash (remember that, ladies).

The Scenery
No, I'm not referring to countless bare breasts...well, ok, I am referring to countless bare breasts, but I'm also talking about the actual scenery: the buildings, the river, the parades, the costumes, the body paint, the artists, the musicians.

The talented street performers.

The awesome costumes.

The AWESOME costumes.

The Mississippi River.

The street meat trailers. Me.

Every aspect of the city captures the feeling of a population that overcomes constant tragedy with good nature and humor.

Now, this is just my perspective of New Orleans during Mardi Gras. But in my experience (which only extends to three months) it applies to the city throughout the year as well. I love the place, in spite of, or because of, all its faults. The city does what I want to do: enjoy life to the fullest in the face of  inevitable tragedy and death.

It's not an easy thing to do, but with enough practice (and enough beads and alcohol-based beverages) anything is possible.

I Love You All (And It Really Is A Wonderful World)...Class Dismissed.

MORE TIME PART 2

The semester has begun, so I'm now working an extra 6 hours a week, not including time for planning and corrections, which makes up the majority of my responsibilities as Professor, and consequently takes the most of my precious time. This does not bode well for my request. On top of everything, I just received a reminder of how fat I have become, and now I need to add exercise to my list of things to do (right after I finish Season 2 of Breaking Bad, Sons of Anarchy, and Dexter). I try to eat well, but mostly it comes down to what is convenient and affordable. I make attempts to improve my diet, but exercise is much more crucial to me at this point. I've stopped eating mammals and I've considerably eased up on snacks (unless you count ice cream as a snack; it falls under "vital dairy product" for me) but I really need to exercise more. Take a look at this picture.

That's me on the right, in the middle of a seizure. Now, I know that most people tend to gain weight as they age, so that needs to be taken into account. Also, you have to keep in mind that my diet at that time consisted of Ramen Noodles, grilled cheese, cheap pasta (occasionally with sauce), corn-dogs from New Orleans Arena, and Hurricanes. Lots of Hurricanes. Not only did I not have money to spend on food containing nutrients that stayed in my system longer than 12 hours, but at that time of my life, I didn't need nutrition to survive. I don't know how I survived, actually. Probably on pure adrenaline and Bacardi.

Anyways, as I stated previously, I am making a triumphant return to the Big Easy, 10 years after I first visited, and 9 years after I lived there for 3 months (when this pic was taken). When my friend sent me the photo, I was shocked. I wasn't shocked that my friend and New Orleans roommate Nick Jake was wearing a light blue fisherman's Kangol, or that my other friend and New Orleans roommate Rizz had a blowout guid'fro (although those things are pretty shocking). I was shocked at how good I looked. I mean really good. Seriously, maybe I look normal size to you, and I know I was never actually "thin", but, let's take a look at me recently for a comparison:

Holy hell! Who is that fat bastard! I can almost hear the wheezing through the picture! I pulled a Mac from It's Always Sunny. And that was 10 months ago...it's only gotten worse.

So I need to get fit, but there's always that issue of time. And the fact that I hate working out. I stayed in shape when I was younger because I enjoyed playing sports. I still enjoy sports, but you can never get enough people together for a game, the gym costs money, outdoor basketball courts are awful, etc. These all sound like excuses, because they are, but I think they are pretty valid excuses. Regardless, I need to find a way to just get off my ass. My big, fat ass.

I have to manage my time better, and figure out what is important to me so I can focus on those things. Even though I hate running, lifting, or basically any physical exertion that doesn't end in orgasm, I need to motivate myself because the "Ben and Jerry's Everything But The..." pounds don't just disappear like they used to.

Unfortunately, managing your time and focusing on what's important is always harder than it sounds. It's why so many people never get around to doing the things they say they will "eventually get around to". Just as  you get a handle on one thing, some thing else pops up that requires your time and energy. I finally got around to writing again by starting this blog, but that was during a break from teaching. Now, school has started again and I have 48 essays to correct in the first week, and that's something I need to do or I won't have a job for very long. And if I don't have that job, I won't be able to do many other things I want to do, like pay for electricity at my condo. With no electricity, I can't write this blog from home, or watch my beloved shows; therefore, correcting papers becomes a priority.

I have no problem with that, it just means that I need to sacrifice some other things I like to do. Things like sleep, which is something I truly enjoy. However, science says you need 7-9 hours of sleep per night, and I gotta follow science. So I can't cut back too much on sleep.

Then there's everything else I mentioned previously, like movies, books, and other hobbies; at some point you gotta give up some of those things, or become much more discerning in what you choose to do.

Then there's the most important things in life, like spending time with friends and family and building relationships; you know, the stuff Ice Cube movies are made of.

No, I meant these.

I was never really good at keeping in touch with people. I don't like talking on the phone, and texting isn't much better. When I was very young, I just assumed that if you were important enough, I'd eventually see you and hang out, but that's just not the case, especially now. People don't just randomly hang out, they have important shit to do, or at least they should. Time slips by, and one day you realize you haven't seen a good friend in months; that's when you understand that you need to make time for your loved ones, it doesn't just happen.

I wish I had more time because I have some really cool people in my life. I apologize if I haven't made enough time for some of you. It is unintentional.

In fact, I just don't want you seeing me like this:

The lack of chin and neck is almost as disturbing as the fat on the eyelids, but not quite.

I'm gonna get better. Probably not at the staying-in-touch thing, but with this whole Jerry Lewis, water-head thing I got going on.

I Love You All (And We'll Hang Out Real Soon I Promise)...Class Dismissed.

Big Easy

Now that I have broken the news about my upcoming trip to Africa, and after watching the New Orleans Saints offensively dominate the Detroit Lions in the NFC Wildcard playoff game, I figured it would be a good time to introduce the subject of my upcoming New Orleans trip to my blog followers. For four days, including Fat Tuesday, I will be enjoying the Big Easy with several of my good friends. This will be my third time traveling to NOLA. The first time, I went for the exact same amount of time (Saturday through Wednesday morning) and the second time, I went for three months. Although it's hard to say definitively, considering it is the only city outside of CT that I've lived in, New Orleans has become my favorite city in the US. I love the sports teams, even though the Hornets are poorly run and got rid of one of my favorite players ever, CP3. I love the food, even though it is the reason that the life expectancy rate in New Orleans is considerably lower than the rest of the US. I love the music, even though I can't name any of the artists that play there. The weather is perfect during the time I'll be there, although not too fun in the summer. And I simply love the people and the culture; I can really appreciate a population that moves slowly and avoids doing anything productive. They have that perennial underdog attitude and spirit; they have survived so many hardships with a good nature that it's impossible not to root for the city to succeed. What other city responds to one of the worst (man-made) natural disasters by saying, "Fuck it. We ain't cancelling our damn party"? There's just so much to love.

I will be there for Mardi Gras again, but even during the rest of the year, there is a festive, jovial atmosphere (I'm talking about the tourist areas, not the poor areas, obviously...not a lot of smiles and bright beads in the 'Nolia projects). New Orleans is the place everyone goes to let loose, to shrug off all the social restraints and truly enjoy themselves with no inhibition. Now, that approach doesn't really work well when you're trying to run a city, but it sure is fun as a visitor. Even the police officers break free of the usual expectations of "upholders of the law" and do whatever the hell they want. It's absolute chaos...and I love it.

I haven't been since Katrina, so I'll be interested to see if there's any difference. However, I'll be in the French Quarter the whole time, with my mind (and eyes, and camera) on other, more bouncy, things, so I don't know if I'll get a good sense of the daily operations of the city. This will not be an educational trip, unless you consider comparing the size, shape, smoothness, firmness, jiggle-ocity, and length of exposure time of the female Mardi Gras-goer's chest-pillows "educational". So, yeah, I guess it is an educational trip. 

Learning is fun!

I will not be starting a separate blog for this trip, as I believe the style, tone, and language of this blog fit perfectly with that of a trip to Mardi Gras with my boys. Of course, in order to document this trip, it means I will have to remain somewhat cognizant, at least long enough to write a few blog entries, or at the very least, take some notes for blog entries. Or, I can just watch all the video footage afterwards and make something up to fill in the blanks. Whatever happens, I can't wait. 

This. This will happen.

Mardi Gras is meant to be a release, a Dionysian, id-fueled celebration leading up to Ash Wednesday when we repent for all our sins. Now, I've forgone the tenets and beliefs of Catholicism some time ago, but I appreciate symbolism, and the symbolism of this trip is spectacular. As I get older, I'm supposed to accept more responsibilities and overcome my youthful indiscretions. I don't know if I'm ready for all that, but I know that opportunities like this one will arise less and less the more days I spend on this planet. And the older I get, the less I need to party for 4 days straight, let alone 3 months straight. But on this trip, I will let it all out, and then reflect upon my actions (and my life in general) when the trip is done. Not because of Ash Wednesday, but I don't deny it's influence on my self-reflection. Then, when I return, I will prepare for a more noble adventure in Africa, and maybe even a more noble journey through life itself. Not that I'm never going to party again (and party hard for that matter); in fact, partying--and relaxing--are an important part of living a happy, successful life. But there needs to be a balance between partying and living responsibly, and as you get older, the balance (should) tip towards the side of responsibility and positive, productive actions. 

Responsibility and productivity, as displayed here by Anderson Cooper and Kelly Ripa.

I am always looking to improve myself, and possibly the world around me, and I think both of my upcoming trips will help me on my road to self-improvement, if not quite global improvement. Human beings are complex, with characteristics that are often contradictory, and I think people would be better off if they accepted the contradictions within themselves. I feel that I have many different aspects of my identity (Professor and Thuggy being only two) and I have become a happier/better person by embracing and expressing the different parts of my identity. I love partying and living for myself, but I also enjoy working to help others. There's nothing wrong with doing both, as long as you find the right balance. I think I've balanced the two pretty well throughout my life, and I look forward to the challenge of maintaining the proper balance from now until the day of my jazz funeral procession.

I Love You All...Class Dismissed.