Wednesday, September 22, 2004

maybe this is interesting

My little brother, who lives in California, went to Florida to meet/visit his girlfriend's parents/family. When I asked him how his trip went, he sent me an email about it.
Note: FWIW, his apparent shallow self-interest is a sham. Despite his efforts to appear as a selfish cynic, he's actually a really warm and nice person...

It's monday morning, and I'm still in Florida, attempting to maintain the whole gracious-guest image.

As if this wasn't a great enough strain in itself, the men's college basketball championship game is also monday and it comes but once a year. And where am I? Caught in the middle, as usual. So like I
said, it's monday morning and I'm sitting at the Nelson kitchen table, perusing the sports page and enjoying my flapjacks and milk. I look over the tv listings, scan for the tip-off time, and locate it with little difficulty: 9:18 pm.

Many other things happened after that, like when I got up from the table and got some more milk, and then again when I urinated post-meal, followed by a brief but thorough face-washing--however, in the interest of time, I will cut right to the heart of things.

It's monday evening, and I've managed to secure a couples' night out with Debi, her brother and his wife, at Chili's Bar and Grill. In this manner, I will be able to feign interest in spending quality time with various portions of the family and still watch the game. The initial phase of Operation Watch-The-Final plays out nicely. We gain access to our table, (and 3 tv's) at approximately quarter after the hour. I casually sit down, making idle chit chat while stealing furtive glances at the monitors. It is then that I notice the first problem. No pre-game interviews are occurring, no highlights from earlier games in the tournament, nothing. Just a fat Marlins pitcher warming up on all 3 screens. At this point, I get nervous. My mouth
seems a little dry, and that empty feeling creeps into my stomach. "What has gone wrong?", I think. "Did I not plan this operation with the utmost precision, taking into account the most minute detail?"

No, you did not, Rick. You MORON!!

Now if you're like me (and I sense that you are), you've spent roughly 20 years automatically subtracting 3 hours from nationally televised sporting events, because nationally televised sporting events in the newspaper are most often listed by eastern time. "Looks like the game's at 6:18", I think to myself.

Wrong again! You're already ON east coast time, you don't need to complete any complex mathematical formulas to derive the event's start time! You just look at the time in the paper and then watch it at that time! Simple, right? Not for me.

And such was the story of the ball game. I'll get 'em next time, though. I'm gonna look at my computer and first see what time zone I'm in, and then I will look in the paper!

You must rise early to pull one over on me, that's all I'm saying about THAT.


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