#but if i was 16 and still deep in my ED i would absorb this message like a fucking sponge
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i think it's worth interrogating why, for some, "thinness" is associated with gender affirmation and niceness. i think it's worth interrogating why, for some, being bigger is associated with agression and ugliness. i think, if your first impulse to someone suggesting a character be depicted in a larger body is, "fuck you ewww how dare you," that maybe just maybe, you might have a few biases that you need to unpack. this is not saying that artists can't draw what they like, this isn't saying people can't headcanon what they like, but i wish people would think a bit deeper about why they view thinness as so desirable, and fatness as such an affront.
#i tried to be calm in the post but imma be a bitch in the tags#your skinny femme sirius is not fucking oppressed#and the way people in this fandom talk about thinness is genuinely triggering for me and for a lot of people#one thinness is not associated with a fucking gender#people of all sizes exist across the gender spectrum#what message do you thinks it sends if being skinny is integral to your conception of gender??? genuinely what do you think?#what message do you thinks it sends when fat characters are demonised ridiculed or flat out ignored???#clearly you guys read harry potter growing up because you talk just like JKR#now i'm a bit older and i've done so much fucking work on my body image on making peace with myself on breaking out of ED and diet culture#but if i was 16 and still deep in my ED i would absorb this message like a fucking sponge#and i would probably be right there with you being revolted by fatness#don't take this as an attack take it as a chance to reflect on why you think the things you do and on the effects your words have on others#for me personally i really find super skinny super femme sirius triggering because of my history with EDs and my own gender issues#but for the most part i've made my peace with the fact that this is MY issue and so i try not to comment on it#everyone has their own experiences and i think it's good to be mindful of that#and learn when the best policy is to just disengage#i didn't comment on the post that sparked this initially because that's what i was trying to do#but i kept seeing it and i kept seeing some really awful things being said about fatness and masculinity and i just don't think that's righ#marauders#sirius black#ed mention#fatphobia#fandom culture
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Things I’ve heard high schoolers say pt 2
Person 1: But air doesn’t splash
Person 2: How do we know that, Im splashing the air right now.
Person: Prove me wrong. Prove fish can’t see air.
Person: I think you underestimate just how poor I am.
Person: I just invented a new thing. No Romo. Like no homo but with romance cause I’m lonely. Get it?
Person: So yah I burned my hair cooking ramen.
Person: Well I figured he wasn’t an adopted iguana.
Person: Say it. You know god is watching.
Person 1 upon heading the news of George Bush’s death: Wait he’s still alive?
Person 2: No he’s dead that’s the point.
Person: I got it. *five second pause* no I don’t got it.
Person 1: My name is (name), but you can call me yours.
Person 2: Okay nice to meet you yours.
Person: Don’t drink it all fool.
Person: Bruh you could literally turn in a gay fanfic and he’d give it an A.
Person: Bruh, what is this triangular accusation?
Person 1:It’s call physics.
Person 2: Yah but I don’t take Physics hence they should not apply to me.
Person 1: Discreet.
Person 2: No discr-yeet *dabs*
Person 1: Be impressed with my ability to bull shit.
Person 2: I mean, it’s gotten you this far.
Person: Why do I feel like finals are lowkey Russian roulette? Like okay I made it through most of them but I still have a few pulls of the trigger to go and one of them might get me.
Person 1: Murder. Just do it.
Person 2: I didn’t know that nike was sponsoring murder.
Person: How do mermaids reproduce if they’re just like conjoined legs?
Person 1: Frozen Yogurt
Person 2: Fro yo
Person 1: Frozen YOgUrt
Person 2: Fro Yo
Person 1: FROZEN YOGURT
Person: All I have to do to commit suicide is jump from my parents expectations to my grades.
Person 1: I mean yah I cheated on that test.
Person 2: Man your love life it DOOMED!
Person: I was seeing if I was tripophobic by repeatedly stabbing my finger with my pen.
Person: You do know that crickets exist during the day right?
Person 1: Hey (person 2), we’re friends right?
Person 2: ….. What do you want.
Person 1: You know, that sandwich looks real good. *person 2 hand them the sandwich* OMIGOD THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU!
Person: Omigod (person’s name) is going through puberty!
Person: If you pulled my ear I would have ripped out your nostril.”
Person 1: She’s attacking me!
Person 2: No, he’s beating a woman, that’s not polite.
Person 1: I know many things!
Person 2: like what?
Person 1: .....
Person 2: my point.
Person: My shoes will be sparkly red stilettos. Fight me Dorothy.
Person: umm hello Christmas miracle even though I’m not Christian. Come at me 15 years from now!
Person 1: you’d make a really good baldie
Person 2: yah you have a really rest head shape
Person: you know teletubbies? Yah that but compressed.
Person 1: I mean how will you become American?
Person 2: paint me white, I’ll get a passport.
Person 1: I’m so funny.
Person 3: it’s hard not to be when your life is a joke.
Person 1: So I’ve decided that my new career choice is to make school specific memes
Person 2: That's Plan A? Yeash... at least Plan B lands you some cash
Person: I’m so small and bitter I’m like a human expresso
Person: You know what I’d name a baby kangaroo if I had one? David Jowie.
Person: I’m just saying that the orange red glitter crayon is you.
Person: I feel like a 1940’s schoolgirl who goes to an all girl finishing school where embroidery is a required class.
Person: I started high school with straight A’s, now I’m not even straight.
Person: Yeah, I’d swear by comic sans.
Person: (Persons name)stop being depressy and you’ll be more sucessy
Person: You can totally be insecure and self absorbed at the same time.
Person 1: Are you kids okay?
Person 2: Besides crippling depression yeah.
Person: I don’t know it’s just giving me pig vibes.
Person: What drugs where the animators for “Pink Elephants on Parade” on?
Person: long story short I make like a semi hot guy.
Person: If I where pregnant id just be like 'you put this thing inside of me, you're helping me until it's out.'
Person: These girls asked me what type of guys I like and being the simple gay I am, I completely blanked
Person 1: why do you read on your phone if you get carsick at 20 minutes?
Person 2:Because it works for the first 19 minutes.
Person: Three Indians, a Thai, a Colombian, and an American walk into a bar. Just kidding they aren't old enough to drink. Three Indians, a Thai, a Colombian, and an American walk into a school cafeteria...
Person: I can't do alcohol cause I'm not of age but I can do drugs because they're illegal for everyone.
Person 1: you can't have a breakdown, it's the third day of school.
Person 2:... so?
*Group of kids singing Bohemian Rhapsody in twelve different keys*
Person: For gods sake choose a key!
Person: For gods sake that was complicated. You didn't need to send out a survey to see which episode of which season of which show to watch.
Person: Honestly I'd chose stab over dab any day.
Person 1: She said she'd throw me out of the window.
Person 2: She never did.
Person 1: She never did.
Person: What language is this? *pause* Oh wait it's English.
Person 1: I mean it's pretty hit or miss.
Person 2 from across the courtyard: I guess they never miss, huh?
Person: Chu-chu bitch. I’m a train.
Person after loosing game of kahoots: I’m going to ka-shoot myself.
Person: So basically I need to learn Hungarian for a song.
Person: No one screams their sneeze, its not human
Person: If I where a mosquito I would bite you and you’d get malaria and die.
Person: That tide pod aesthetic.
Person: No I loved Barney, Barney was my bo.
Person: If I where my own boyfriend I’d dump me.
Person: It's already a really good song but then it's dubstep so it's extra good.
Person: No one is EVER to old for coolmathgames.com
Person 1: Why are you using a poon?
Person 2:…..
Person 1: WHY ARE YOU USING A POON?!
Person 1: I��ve been blonde for 16 years.
Person 2: So what? I’ve been brown for 16 years and you don’t see me coloring myself white!
Person: Yes. Scrape the sweat off my hand.
Person: No one cares about a square cube of water.
Person: We’re melanin intoxicated.
Person: Well my life may be a mess, but at least I’m not doing drugs. Yet.
Person: Negative 13 out of 10, do not recommend.
Person: Yah that’s gunna have to be a no from me.
Person: Fool me once......fool me twice.......fool me as many times as you want, my first name is dumbass.
Person 1: Ya know, I think the Americans have the order of dates right JUST BECAUSE you can do 4/20/2019.
Person 2: Okay but they’re still wrong though.
Person with AirPods: And where are YOUR AirPods? Thats what I thought you broke bitches.
Person: Salem witch trials bitches.
Person: La Croix, the AirPods of the soda world.
Person: Who needs a thermometer when you have… your hands!?
Person 1: It’s time to bring back SEXY MASQUERADE BALLS
Person 2: It really is. I need an excuse to wear an incredibly uncomfortable dress that's so big I can't even walk through doorways.
Person 1: And to wear a swan inspired mask that doesn’t cover enough of my face to deem myself totally anonymous enough to be half as bold and daring as i plan on acting that night but everyone else is on board we’ll all just forget about it the next day.
Person 2: That's to specific for you to have made up on the spot, you've thought about this.
Person: It was lady Macbeth that drugged and made the guards drunk, without her Macbeth would just be like “I guess I’ll stab him???”
Person: It’s like playing where’s Waldo but the page is India and I’m Waldo.3Person: Why are there so many frowny faces everywhere?
Person: This group chat is weird. It's either homework, deep philosophical conversations, or memes, there's no in between.
Person 1: Honestly, where DID it come from
Person 2: The endless abyss that is the internet.
Person: Are you really blaming our generational depression on Jake Paul?
Person 1: Oh. My. God. Guys. Keep your carbon dioxide away from my computer.
Person 2: But sharing is caring.
Person 1: But my computer doesn’t need this kinda of negativity in its life right now.
Person: Sweetie, if you think I’m going to stop wearing my favorite dress just because you kissed me in it, you are dead wrong.
Person with a metal straw: I don't drink broke.
Person: My whole life has become that sock on the floor. It's just there. When did life screw us over and then just ex? I’m just gonna write a book, and the last sentence will be life screwed them over and then exed. A story of the main character who gets screwed over, so I can get that 'it be like that sometimes' reaction.
Person in group chat:
Positivity- I will make you feel better about being an idiot.
Self Doubt- I will highlight all of your mistakes and set low standards for you so you'll never be disappointed.
Me to Self Doubt- I'm listening...
Person 1: Sadly the disappointment never goes away...
Person 2: Man we're a sad lot this time of year.
Person 1:It’s almost my favorite time of the year
Person 2:Ahh yes. Singles awareness day, also known as chocolate sales at Walgreens eve, also known as... Valentine's Day.
Person 1:... Oh... I meant rainy season.
Person: Being antivax is like swimming in shark infested waters because you're afraid the bridge could break lmao.
Person: I learned how eat a kumquat this weekend.
Person: It’s so sticky. It’s like clear cheese.
Person: Hamburger helper? More like hamburger help me pass this class.
Person 1: So I slipped on a grape…
Person 2: You got K.O.’ed by a grape (person’s name), how does it feel.
Person 1: Look at me, I’m fine.
Person 2: Well how many drugs did you take.
Person 1: Several.
Person 1: Did you just say it’s ALMOST FEBRUARY?
Person 2: Yes, it’s January 72nd.
Person: I knew your comedic standards where low, but poop jokes? Really?
Person: What? So are you insinuating the fact that reliablest isn't a word?
Person 1: [bitter old man voice] back in my day, tik tok was a kesha song.
Person 2: Back in my day we had wires attached to our AirPods.
Person: There's a reason rainbows aren't straight. Just saying.
Person reading sheet music and seeing mf crescendo: I forgot that mezzo forte was a thing for a second so I thought it said mother fucker as a crescendo but mood
Person: He looks like a fine piece of toasted white bread.
Person: If life hasn't given me a fist bump by now, why should I give life one?
Person: we all died in 2012 this is hell.
Person 1: Who wants a pamphlet on condoms?
Person 2: Why do you have this? Do you collect them?
Person 1: Yah it’s my hobby. I have this one, one on HIV and one on teenage pregnancy.
Person: We live a society where reading about assassins and gory details is a hobby.
Person: Stop breathing so loudly on my thumb!
Person 1: I’m the comic relief.
Person 2: For what?
Person 1: Myself.
Person1: Who’s your valentine this year?
Person 2: Me, myself and I.
Person 1: Wow three valentines, you really can’t keep them away can you?
Person: Why do women gotta get their period, why not men. I wish I was born a seahorse.
Person 1: No we can’t all fit, her car is smol. Like you.
Person 2: Says you miss 5 foot nothing lmao.
Person 1: Hey we’re the same hight so says you miss 5 foot nothing.
Person: No, that’s cheating no emotionally disabling people.
Person 1: Why is it that we’re talking about someone burning eggs on two different group chats.
Person 2: Hey I didn’t burn them.
Person 3: Cause why not?
Person 1: That’s not how an Australian accent works.
Person 2: This is why I’m not Australian, I don’t have the koala-fications.
Person 1: I’m Indian, numbers run through my blood.
Person 2: That’s like saying I’m going to marry my cousin just because I’m white.
Person: So I ate veggies and hummus for lunch but then I counterbalanced it by eating a spoon full of straight Nutella.
Person: Seagulls, California Pigeons, what’s the difference?
Person 1: I humbly apologize and request your forgiveness.
Person 2: I humbly decline your request for forgiveness.
Person: I think I’m permanently stuck somewhere between “If you mess with me I’ll fight” and “If you mess with me I’ll cry.”
Person 1: It was implied!
Person 2: What’s implied is your inability to accept that fact that I’m right!
Person 1: I got lazy because I was eating Pringles.
Person 2: She values Pringles more than me.
Person: Yo, you be the crazy ex girls they be talking about in memes.
Person: I swear (persons name) if I hooked up with squidward in your dream your subconscious and I need to have a little talk.
Person: You get to die, and you get to die! Everybody gets to die!
Person: How do you just add a child?
Person 1: Look at this ink based pencil.
Person 2: A pen?
Person 1: This egg is all broken.
Person 2: It’s like you then, you both broke under the pressure.
Lakshmi: Don’t force your opinion, voice it.
Person 1: If I where a fruit, which one would I be?
Person 2: Sushi.
Person 1:… Sushi isn’t a fruit.
Person: I mean it’s not straight up “Yo come here I’m gunna kill you.”
Person: Bye gays, bye (other girls name).
Person 1: No (person B) stop. Just shut up. You’re making me loose brain cells.
Person 2: But…
Person 1: No. Just no.
Person: Stop. That is non-consensual pizza eating.
Person 1: Cheese is not a vegetable!
Person 2: Well it’s not a meat either!
Person 3: Guys… It’s dairy.
Person: Idiots have priority over just regular dumb people
Person: God melted the polar ice caps just to make it rain for Noah then refroze them. I don’t know (kids name) I’m not god!
Person: You and I will go out, and leave them to their raw fish rolled in sea salad.
Person: Does anyone else get really energized when they change their room? Just me? Okay.
Person: I hope you know I will diss you guys to the end of the earth.
Person: Bruh talk to (person’s name) I don’t know sh… *notices teacher looking at her*…niahhh.
Person 1: The thing is, I don’t want to be 80 that’s rough.
Person 2: Then just die at 50.
Person: You’d be scrambled eggs with hair.
Person: Seeing you two fighting, it’s like seeing a piece of light fighting a black hole.
Teacher: What can you tell me about probability?
Student 1: I hate it.
Student 2: Dont you mean you?
Student 1: Yes both.
Person: My brain has the dumb I’m sorry
Person 1: If my first word was no, I’m assuming that’s foreshadowing for them my family disowns me after I renounce religion and systemic abuse.
Person 2: Or…. You just need to make sure your last word is yes.
Person 1: Yes to what though?
Person 2: ‘Are you dying?’ Yes.’ Pessimism, just your style.
Person 1: That’s true.
Person: My parents don’t message me, they’re the type of people who CALL. Where did I get my social anxiety from??
Person: Well guys it's been great knowing you I’m just going to drown now.
Person: I figured out a new diet regime, it’s called sleeping until noon and just not eating breakfast.
Person: The f on my birth certificate was the doctor paying their respects.
Person: Chocolates with raspberry filling are the sole reason I’m still alive.
Person 1: Isn’t Latin a dead language?
Person 2: You’re a dead language!
Person: Hydrate before you diedrate.
Person 1: you have a son named Spider-Man?
Person 2: what noooo!
Person 3: well don’t expose her!
Person: That awkward moment when you just really don’t care about people.
Person 1: (Person 2) and I will be over here with my virgin margarita and her water.
Person 2: Hey! I want apple juice!
Person 3: Why are you not drinking (Person 1)?
Person 2: Because she’s to single, and also she’d strip.
Person 1: Woahh! How dare you assume that I’m not drinking because I’m to single?
Person 1: Ya know, I think I’m going to have to jazz hands my way through hell.
Person 2: All of us will.
Person: Brown town children, y’all find someone in India?
Person 1: Wow you have the best backup singers.
Person 2: I only hire the best, at least 5 stars in yelp.
Person 1: Well good because that’s the sound they’re making.
Person: The cold kills everything, it’s like my heart.
Person 1: Remember the rolls I brought to school last year that I used to give you? The ones with paneer and the really good spices?
Person 2: Yah?
Person 1: This is not at all the same thing.
Person 1: What’s stevia?
Person 2: It’s like sugar but no.
Person 1: Yeetus Skelettus.
Person 2: Fetus Deletes? Honey, that’s called abortion.
Person: Anything for you. That’s what you said. Anything for you. But when I ask for just one bite of your pasta? No!
Person 1: I've written 1,300 words and don’t have a thesis statement or topic question
Person 2: Yeah, you need to figure that out.
Person 1: you know I had a dream that you where in a romantic relationship with a toaster.
Person 2: wasn’t that your relationship with (ex’s name)?
Person 1: you’d have more chemistry with a toaster.
Person: Can people read colors? Cause I am ooo.
Person: It’s like hands but medusa
Person: You look like a cardboard jellyfish that’s brown
Person 1: Two of us like boys.
Person 2: We all like boys.
Person 1: Two of us like ONLY boys.
Person: you’re like a reverse plant. You convert oxygen into carbon dioxide.
Person: Shhhhh. I’m not in physics, let me be dumb in peace.
Person: Why are you laying down like some greek god, get up you brown child.
Person 1: Do all of you just think you’re going to be single?
Person 2: I already am why not keep the streak going to get a high score?
Person: and now cracks of light are coming out from around the sides like some sort of computer Jesus!
People 1 and 2: Rock Paper Scissors
Person 3: shoot me please.
Person 1: not since 9/11 you can’t.
Person 2: dang. You just tossed your whole country just to prove a point. I’ve never been so proud.
Person 1: what is an angle of depression?
Person 2: it’s my life.
Person 1: no it’s you because it’s not straight.
Person: Boom. Lesbians.
Person 1: Well what if two rocks just washed up at the same time and humans.
Person 2: Evolution.
Person: Watermelon isn’t good anymore, I swear its just water with food coloring.
Person: You being dumb makes me want to correct you, sos too being dumb cause I’m on vocal rest.
Person: well (persons name) who have you a mouth?
Person: Teachers that grade late work deserve all the love and cookies and cake in the world.
Person 1: honestly I just want to die right now.
Person 2: same. Literally same.
Person: I just feel like a single molecule lost in space.
Person: who’s gunna stop me? God? Damn him to hell.
Person: the line is not actually straight it’s like (students name)
Person 1: It’s your favorite sleep deprived gay.
Person 2: But I’m my favorite sleep deprived gay. Self love.
Person 1: We Stan.
Person 1: Why do you have a tool?
Person 2: Because my hair is moist.
Person: eating lead was an otherworldly experience
Person 1: I have everything stolen from me
2: at least you have the tiniest bit of dignity left
3: what dignity?
1: exactly
Person 1:( holding up katsup) does this go on salad?
Person:I’m turning red! Me! A brown girl!
Person: I’m not trying argue that we should date, I’m just saying.
Person 1: what’s your biggest turn on?
Person2 : a light switch
Person 2: or then leaving.
Person 1: what is the most attractive retire on someone
Person 2: my own face
Person: you’d be that one bar do white chocolate that just sits in the feidge because no one wants it
Person: that’s like saying I’d rather see your shirt than your face.
Person: why would I shut up when I can shut (kids name) down
Person: Subtle. Gay. Vibes. I’m telling you.
Person: just watch me write my ee on all the reasons why nick caraway is gay. Just watch me.
Person: Why are you stereotyping. What if the body doesn’t want trucks, what if he wants to be a fairy.
Person: being ace is basically just eww no but like forever.
Person: Stop trying to science your way out of being wrong.
Person: even if you did ask me out I’d still say no so then you’d even be rejected by a trash can
Person 1: you can’t read cheese color.
Person 2: yellow?
Person 1: Think about it like you’re brown
Person 2: She is brown
Person 1: Then act like it
Person: You’re not an ugly frog, you’re a beautiful human being.
Person: I am. Very very dumb. And also. Bisexual.
Person: I was thinking of something smart but then I forgot what it was.
Person: I want to skip the crush phase and just make out with someone.
Person 1: The only way to get into the Holland family is to marry in through Paddy.
Person 2: (Person 1’s name) this isn’t the royal family.
Person: Omigod you looked like the human version of squid ward.
Person: I want to be smart. Where can I learn smart stuff?
Person: But plant the seed and smoke the weed and chop the cane.
Peeeson 1: that is the definition of meter?
Person 2: about 3 feet.
Person 1: okay thanks America
Person 1: who’s Tom Holland?
Person 2: Spider-Man you uncultured swine!!
Person: I am not a children
Person: Ohh dang yeah forgot chickens existed for a while
Person: Hey! Don’t narrate my water!
Person: I don’t read water.
Person: Think of it as a relationship. If you and your ex break up they are salty but you profit because you wanted to end it but if you end it weak, then y’all will argue back and forth and get nowhere with ending it while still exchanging insults.
Person: You know those really sexual mattress adverts?
Person: Oh please, you have the sexual appeal of an easy bake oven.
Person 1: weed is a gate way drug
Person 2: YOURE A GATEWAY DRUG!
Person: (first, middle, last name), I love you to the end of the earth. But you are a daft child.
Person 1: She’s like that type of girl. She’s the long paragraph white girl.
Person 2: Well that’s a niche if I’ve even seen one.
Person 1: swing you two fight is like watching two ants fight.
Person 2: you friking piece of bacteria!
Person: I’m just an intellectual.
Person: I will murder your face off.
Person: that’s like a kilometer tall.
Person: It’s weird when I pet you horizontally.
Person: to be honest I thought those were rocks in a jar for the longest time. Turns out they weren’t.
Person: does she have a brother or gay tendencies
Person: I’m going to slap your hand like it’s a fricking spider.
Person: I like your face better blurry.
Person: every night at about midnight someone starts googling astrology
Person: I will kick you. I will murder your soul.
Person 1: I’m just going to marry a millionaire.
Person 2: Where are you gunna finds a millionaire in this economy?
Person: Welcome to my tea party, there isn’t any tea to drink, but we have a lot of it to spill.
Person: Yah, it was something about sex or something.
Person: You’re all uncultured swines.
Person: I’m about as straight as a sine curve.
Person 1: They’re not Oreo’s you dumb head
Person 2: I know that dumber head.
Person 3 :Shut up dumbest heads
Person: As an ex foetus i can say with authority that if my mother had aborted me i wouldn't have known nor would i have given a fuck
Person: I’ve just accepted I’m going to fail this test. I’ve gone through the 5 stages of grief already.
Person: Yes I’m blind that’s why I need glasses fool.
Person: what the fork do you want you little son of a biscuit.
Person: Anyway now I’m taking Tylenol PM and I’m going to actually sleep tonight that’ll be fun.
Person: I need all the hoodies. ALL OF THEM.
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50 YEARS OF GOING TO SHOWS, Pt. 6: BECOMING A JAZZ FAN IN KANSAS CITY
As I often do, let me start this reminiscence with a guitar player or three. My brief here is to recall the formative jazz experiences that have been part of being in the thrall of live music just as often as I can.
So, even though this is jazz and the piano is the most versatile and enthralling instrument at the center of the music for me, I do come to this iteration of musical virtuosity, intelligence, and intricacy from '60s rock--blues and psychedlia. Fusion, jazz-rock was created for the likes of me and Miles's "Bitches Brew" with John McLaughlin was the first jazz album of my teen years.
So we start with seeing the Mahavishnu Orchestra at the University of Kansas. I remember being in the balcony and so leaning forward physically while metaphorically being blown back into my seat. They were loud, both actually and filling every aural space with rapid fire notes in intricate array, mostly from McLaughlin's still just a single neck guitar but also Jerry Goodman and Jan Hammer. But it was equally Billy Cobham's drums that just pulsed in astoundingly complex rhythms. Later when I got to know Balkan music, I wondered if those rhythms were head trips, intellectual exercises, or tied to Eastern European dance rhythms (Hammer is Czech, after all). Pure invention. It was amazing.
In the same hall, I saw the beloved Jerry Hahn, with Brotherhood brothers, but playing a straight ahead jazz show. He warmed up for this just emerging band with some local appeal, Kansas. They too were loud and already pretentious. We left wrapped in our own pretension of jazz snobbery.
One last guitarist, Pat Matheny, a local hero just a year older than us. The drummer in Fast Eddie and the Juicers, the garage/basement band I hung out with with some very good friends, had played in a middle school jazz band with him. He was 16, maybe 17, when he played numerous sets at the all day Kansas City Jazz Festival in Municipal Auditorium. It was a mostly Buddy Rich, Clark Terry, Marilyn Maye (who was then just the jazz singer in town), Gene Harris and the Three Sounds kind of show. But Matheny played his own set in late afternoon and then kept being asked to sit in. He later did two or three Xmas season shows often at UMKC (my alma mater, my Dad's employer) with his original quartet with Lyle Mays with "Phase Dance" to open and "San Lorenzo" to close gloriously.
But, particularly now, I don't seek jazz guitar and appreciate more than enjoy such luminaries as John Scofield (though I have seen him with Joe Lovano and also in Jack DeJohnette's Hudson and do like to see him in rockish setting with Phil Lesh and Warren Haynes) and Bill Friesell. No, it's the piano, best with just bass and drums, that defines the music for me.
I had a singular formative experience--seeing Oscar Peterson with Ray Brown and Ed Thigpen open ($#%Q%#) for the New Christy Minstrels at UMKC in about 1964. I was 8 or 9 and felt at home where Dad worked, so I just was drawn into the music and sat on stage behind the speaker column. They were playing selections from the "Canadiana Suite," so that was an album I got my parents to buy for "us." But they were magical, so fluid and telepathic and powerful. I treasure the drum sticks Ed Thigpen gave me. I got to see him here at a conference on Miles Davis with Sam in tow when he was about the age I was then and told him how meaningful that was.
I saw Count Basie (and possibly Duke Ellington) at a free concert but that made little impression except that Basie was bluesy and from Kansas City. I saw him, once again in Lawrence, probably in that same auditorium, in the 1970s. By then I had absorbed the Basie aesthetic. Even if big bands were more than a little corny, this one swung hard, Basie was eloquently powerful with his little right hand lines, Freddie Green was unflappable, and the horns played the charts well with Jimmy Forrest being the tenor star.
Since I've already talked about Herbie Hancock with both his Mwandishi band and the Headhunters as well as Chick Core with Return to Forever and even Weather Report, I will proceed into a remarkable series of largely free jazz in the park concerts, mostly in Kanas City.
A glorious exception was seeing Charles Mingus with the Changes line up (George Adams, Don Pulled, Dannie Richmond, not necessarily but possibly Jack Waltrath) in Bryant Park, for a noon time set while we were in New York City. That same band did a concert in the park in Kansas City. I remember no juicy details--particular tunes from the deep Mingus canon, only Mingus in black fully unprepared to suffer fools.
The Kansas City Parks had a great series with Gary Burton a couple of times (I was also a hanger on at a master class on vibraphone at a music store the next afternoon and saw something about how to use two mallets in each hand) and San Getz with Richie Beirach, maybe George Mraz. It might have been that I saw Mraz with Roland Hanna and homeowner Richie Pratt on drums in another open air setting. I was probably just another punter in the crowd; I think anymore I would be annoyed at people there for atmosphere and the party.
I saw the Modern Jazz Quartet with the Kansas City Symphony with the orchestra contributing to some suite, almost certainly John Lewis's, before a few tunes by the MJQ itself. I was bouncing in my seat a bit too enthusiastically for the regular Symphony goers around me. Sigh.
Dizzy Gillespie played KC a couple of times. I saw him out of reverence but wished I could have brought more to the table, more lore. He wasn't Miles but he was playing probably with James Moody and solid jazz guys on Rhodes and electric bass. I should have gotten more out of that experience than to say, yeah, I saw Dizzy's cheeks and schtick (certainly a subtle Latin rhythm).
I lived in Chicago and had a friend with great jazz ears. He introduced me to Arthur Blythe and some South African players among many others. I was part of a gang that went a couple of times to the Jazz Showcase, including once to the original near North Side location, once to the one in a Loop hotel, to see Dexter Gordon in the post-Homecoming days. Again I wish I could savor more details than the impression of his tall elegance, liquid lines, and deep deep repertoire. That's as much a reconstruction from the albums and the legend but, details aside, I have a strong image of Dexter Gordon and he was the most formidable tenor player I ever saw. Now, I did see Sonny Rollins in his late 70s and that was remarkable (more in a follow up to this on my jazz revival) but Gordon was in significant command of his craft then and was doing vital music.
Finally, the Chicago Jazz Festival was a relatively new thing when I was there in the late 1970s/early 1980s. I'm sure I saw as much as I could. My sole memory--and it is a grand one--is sticking out a rain shower to see Jack DeJohnette's Special Edition to play to a too small crowd, including the absolutely stunning "Pastel Rhapsody" with DeJohnette starting on piano. It's a glorious tune and DeJohnette's piano is both strong and revelatory. I learned so much about him as a drummer from that tune.
My rediscovery of jazz over the past four years or so is based on this foundation. It is also been the basis of so much of this ongoing writing exercise.
These are powerful memories.
#2019#jazz#mahavishnu orchestra#dexter gordon#dizzy gillespie#charles mingus#pat matheny#count basie#oscar peterson
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UNRAVEL ME
I'm one of the many survivors of the human race who out of 40 million to 1.2 billion sperm cells came victorious so I'm a conqueror from birth and not by default. It was July 13th on a cold winter’s day, the sky was overcast with clouds and chilly winds were blowing when Noxolo Adams gave birth to a healthy 2.7 kg baby and that being me. She miraculously named me Johari, Swahili meaning precious and that I have value residing from within. Through Surgery is how I was delivered, that being a cesarean section as my mom had quite the difficulty when it came to vaginal delivery as it would put her or myself at great risk. Like any other normal baby, I cried as I soothe came into the world and in my mom's arms is where I found peace and layed to rest. I was welcomed by loving friends and family and of course I wouldn't know so my mom told me the story. My story. The story that began a journey of a thousand miles. A lot of good came into the family I mean a new baby was born, but like a shadow that's hiding underneath the surface was where my father's feelings and emotions about me where hiding. "Hooray congratulations wow it's a beautiful baby boy!!!" people would praise and in all that he had quite a lot to raise. He uttered loudly and passionately so, doubting that he being a man of higher status and of dignity within the community could never be so possible to bear a child like me. He muttered while he spoke and in a distinct way of character was when he clearly showed that he wants no part in my life. He packed and left. I was denied my own right of having a father. I was denied my own right to have those father and son moments, I was denied knowing and being in close contact with my biological father by my own biological father.
Growing up that gap of not having a father didn't affect me but it caught up with me in my teens. I had no older brothers to fight my battles and my father ran away so I was constantly in conflict with my mind. I was at war and I lost at every chance I got with all the questions I had which were left unanswered. My own blood ran away from his own family. I am my father's son and his blood I am but a coward I'm not.
I attended school not very far from home. Sandralls Preparatory School. A mixed school which served to service good quality education. School began at quarter to eight and ended at exactly two o'clock. My extra-curricular activity that I enjoyed doing at school was chess. Through chess I learnt that the decisions one makes have a great impact on the outlook of the rest of the game and so applies in life. In life we need to carry out proper decisions that don't hinder progress or harm in any way and that decisions you make today determine your future tomorrow. My father was more worried about people and himself and not about my mom and I. He was too self absorbed and selfish. I only have two friends, Tshepo and Joseph. I only see them at school because my mom is always trying to protect me from the world so I don't get to go out as often as I would prefer. My mom says the world is trying to hurt me. Mom would constantly tell me that in my difference I’m still the same and that no one is better than me.
I was born 16 years ago and medically I was genetically born with a condition that I inherited from past generations. I was born with unusual pigment with a lack of melanin. I have albinism. I'm not white but I might be close just with a different shade and maybe a bit pale. People at school call me snow white, white bone, snow man, but those who really know me call me Johari. Tshepo and Joseph are in the same class as I am. We take the same subjects except I do Mathematics and they do Mathematical Literacy. During most of our lunch breaks Joseph spends time with his girlfriend, Adeline. She has quite the looks I must admit, personality and she's focused in her school work but I still don't think she's good enough for my friend. Tshepo enjoys eating and chatting so while Joseph is in love land with Adeline I spend time with Tshepo chatting and eating. I think Tshepo is escaping emotional wounds that have been planted in his heart and that being the death of his twin brother who passed away 4 weeks ago in a tragic car accident because a night out partying took his life. They sneaked out of the house when their mom thought they were both sleeping but in them sneaking out Tshepang, his brother was taken to his grave. It's a pity we don't know when we'll meet the face of death so in us thinking that we are making the right decisions for ourselves is where great adversity is but that's also the beauty of life. Knowing that death exists makes us respect the lives we live now. Tshepo finds it very hard to move on as he feels greatly involved in his brothers passing and finds blame in himself. He doesn't have to talk about his pain but as his true friend I can see that it's affecting him. I think no matter how big or strong of a person you think you are or how well put together you may appeal to people, at the crocks of it we are all fighting battles inside trying to escape chains of suffering from things we can't change, those we can't forgive or from things we just can't move past. Those things hinder progress in your life if you become submissive to their heavy chains that hold you hostage as they bring immense suffering in your life so sometimes you just need to forgive, forget and move on.
Today is no different as I get ready for school. I am woken up by my alarm clock that is horrendously annoying and loud. People think that it's the alarm that wakes them up but it's honestly our holy father, our creator because if alarms truly woke us up then if we were to take them to the grave all those who have passed away would wake up. How wonderful that would be if it was possible. In the year 2005 I lost my Gogo (grandmother) who died at an old age home. I used to visit her time and time and again and I had a deep and intimate connection with her. Shouldn’t it be that the people who raised us and made us the very people we are today deserve to also be taken cared of? I don't understand why Gogo (grandmother) was taken to an old age home and maybe she was hurt and bitter inside so that might have killed her. Grandpa was in exile fighting emancipation under the white government. He travelled between countries such as Botswana, Mozambique and Tanzania as he was prohibited entry into his own country and had to escape being killed. He ended up getting shot at because some things you can't run away from and when he passed away it was decades before I was born.
As I enter and sit down to take my third period being English Home Language with Mrs Pillay, we are welcomed with devastating and horrific news with only 15 minutes into the lesson. We started off on a high with learning about the 8 parts of speech to finding out that one of our learners had been brutally murdered and had been found laying in a ditch near a river. At the very moment I knew what it all was and I took off with my school bag and I ran straight home. My mother had warned me of days like these and I heard her voice in my head say "I have to protect you, you aren't safe". In a country with so much democracy some of us have to still live in fear because of nonentities who think otherwise about who we are. I was born human too but the only difference between you and I is that medically so, I have albinism and it has been genetically inherited by me. I have the very same physical features and structures as you do which function the very same way as yours. Mentally I am in shambles and I am destroyed for people ever thinking that I was made for traditional medicine and for people ever thinking that I am of a higher power than everybody else. I ran a 5km marathon from school all the way home. My heart was beating so fast and in my mind I thought I was going to be next and like mom always reminded me, I am not safe.
In the amazing speed of a cheetah I swiftly arrived home. The door was locked and I bashed the door frantically hailing “mom open up”!. Mom quickly opened the door and asked what was wrong and if anybody had in any way touched me. I told mom that no one did anything to me but it is who they did it to and for awfully unlawful reasons. I explained that a fellow leaner who has the same condition as myself had been brutally murdered. She was slaughtered, butchered by selfless people who have misconceptions and wrong ideas about who and what we are.
All these years growing up mom kept reminding me that no one is better than me. That I will be looked at otherwise but I should know that I am human too just as the next person. I’m not weird, abnormal or in any way deformed.
It is I who is you and you who is me and in us we are, nothing but the same because I am you and we are both human. No one is better than me. I told myself. I am just the same and no one needs to make me feel bad for being the person I was born to be.
Penny’s brutal death instilled fear in me for quite some time. I stayed home from school for at least two weeks and a few days. The police didn’t do much because through bribery is how they don’t do the same work they once said they were passionate about. Tshepo and Joseph made means to come and see me. Their visit was somewhat therapeutic on its own. They told me that I shouldn’t live in fear and for the bold person I am I need to be tough and come back to school. That there’s no one better than myself and that just because the killings have been ongoing it doesn’t mean that the cycle should be left to continue.
No one is better in thinking anything about the next person worse if ending their lives is their priority.
Even though my friends don’t have my condition but we’ve been friends since we were little children during the days of the old Cartoon Network when George Of The Jungle and Ed Edd and Eddy used to be the thing so they understand me and my condition as well as my struggles in depth. So we joint forces and started a campaign. Our campaign is no one is better than you and we aimed at creating awareness to say to people that being an albino is merely a genetic condition and it ends there. We worked with local radio stations as well as schools educating people about albinism. We even made little leaflets to give to people around. The campaign was a good working idea and success. It saved a lot of people too. My runaway dad made a U-turn and came back one day. The ancestors had beaten him to a pulp and he had to accept me and be a good and better father to me going forward. An ancestral ceremony was made for me.
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“Did Dan get TOO TAN?”
(Sept 19th 2017 Dan liveshow timestamps)
0:03 After an awkward pause and salute: “Hello cyber friends” (instant regret and reflection)
0:29 (Dear god, don’t grab your laptop by the screen like that Dan.)
0:44 Grimace #1
1:06 No Dan, you do not look *atol* different. That tweet, title and pic are all just clickbait.
1:10 (Bronze my ass.)
1:19 Hitting us with that meme.
1:25 (Didn’t need to be in your face thanks. Teasing angles?)
1:36 “Never say Trumpy ever again, in any circumstance.”
1:45 Lovely pores and freckles.
2:00 Obviously everyone subscribes to YouTubers for their freckle content.
2:30 Livestreams are “a mistake” because of the chat clinging on to one thing and spamming it.
2:40 No probing or questioning at airport, big grin.
3:01 “The broadband is terrible but the 4G is great.” Okay…
3:17 “The toasty Dan experience”, orangish filter.
3:26 Double rhyme: “I guess that’s a rhyme, yeah that’s fine” (okay it’s a slant rhyme)
3:47 “Buttered crumpet Daniel.”
4:02 “Went to an island in the Mediterranean.” (This is exactly the answer I expected and quite frankly the only one he should give.)
4:09 “Literally did nothing for about six days, it was great.”
4:15 ‘I am Pilgrim’ book recommended by his mum.
4:30 Tricked into reading 900 page book.
5:00 Holiday was incredibly relaxing.
5:10 “Ordeal” getting there, delayed flight, three hours “traumatizing”
5:22 “Haha long boye” “literally, shins driving into my chest, bleeding” alright hyperbolic humor Dan. “Tough.”
5:38 “Violated” on flight by guy’s elbows, “no respect for personal space”, “fully leaning into me”, “didn’t even care”, “honestly an icon for all of us.” (Was it Phil?)
6:03 3 am, old driver, mini bus, cliff roads, did pre-ritual preparing for death.
7:00 “So much yogurt”, doesn’t know why.
7:05 “Assaggetti” tweet, we can shame him, “has the worst sense of humor in the world”, check it out and unsubscribe, doesn’t remember the language (Italian), apologizes, “constantly problematic”.
7:55 “Got that D from the S up above” (vitamin D, or Phil…)
8:16 Phil came on the holiday in case anyone didn’t know.
8:18 “He went from like glass to pale ivory, which is good”, “Phil is someome who erupts in freckles whenever he goes outside, so it’s hard to tell if he tans or if your eyes are just kinda like drawing the dots between the space all the freckles are, if you know what I’m saying.” (Wow, I… I’d like to think you mean what I know, but I’m not sure. Wow.)
8:37 Someone in the chat: “Nice Ursa Major on that cheek boy”. Turn, pose, laugh.
8:41 “The Bigger Dipper of my self esteem.”
8:53 Good day: watched Bake Off and answered emails, “thrilling”.
9:13 Tumblr likes, fan art, “beautiful to celebrate the great people.”
9:43 “The internet is not here”, laughs, sighs, apologizes.
9:55 Some peer pressure advice.
10:25 Had to check what his video title is.
10:35 I don’t know why he bothers to ask if we watched either.
10:55 Accept that he does things by his British calendar.
11:11 Why he didn’t he talk about uni stories when it was happening. Ashamed? Yeah, processing turmoil at the time.
11:55 Now shares traumatizing, terrifying, shameful, embarrassing stories straight away.
12:15 Rowing club guy AU… (not what I was thinking)
12:46 Laundry story: Phil was nice, Dan didn’t ask, *literally* ordered a cab, turned up with suitcase, Phil assumed he dropped out and was moving in, “I’ve had a day and I’m going to wash my socks in your washing machine.”
13:13 “If you struggle to function as a person-” (I really wish he had finished this sentence)
13:15 Asda sponsor for crying in the cheese aisle?
13:23 Pasta burn shaming (were you just never in the kitchen with your mum Dan?)
13:36 Dropping laptop so much recently.
14:00 Never taught cooking, laundry, accounting.
14:18 “No one told me shit!” (in Dan’s face again).
14:33 “What happens when I’m 23?! How do I do a tax?!”
14:54 It was ravioli (pretty sure the instructions mentioned water Dan…)
15:15 Thick as in stupid, not thicc fat booty.
15:30 “Look Fatima, we all have different life experiences, okay?” (lol)
15:36 “Ravioli ravioli, give me the death I deserveioli.” Relates.
15:45 Rihanna livestream, forehead fetishist? Wouldn’t mind if anyone leaves for that.
16:08 Not up on BTS, DNA.
16:33 Shames Eden for “let me see that pastussy” comment, “leave.”
16:45 “Love on the Brain”. He really loves Rihanna, amazing, blessing, doesn’t give a shit, casual, informal, etc. “Bitch Better Have My Money.”
17:25 Is sure BTS video with be “pure and beautiful”, expects “softly applied eyeshadow and very fluffy hair”, he’s sure he’ll enjoy.
17:38 Maybe new gaming video/livestream tomorrow.
17:45 Overcooked, ironic kitchen fire, foreshadowing.
18:08 Wasn’t sure if he should get into Chinese guy story again, but he has to.
18:13 Deep breath: “It was 4 am, I’d been you know, well hydrated that evening, but I decided I needed another drink” go into the kitchen, everyone else was asleep, guy had a whole chicken, with neck and feet, fine but surprising, tiniest pair of white y-fronts, hacked head off and made eye contact, just couldn’t, usually would awaken some kink in him…
19:39 Pool pic, shout out to friend, no consent, relaxing, absorbing sun like a lizard, *basking*, fell asleep, lucky it was a pool and he didn’t drift out to sea, sun stroke vid reference, “the bad tan”.
21:08 People saying “trying to be cute”, the double chins (really?!)
21:21 The least Dan-like photo.
21:33 Thought it would ruin his Instagram aesthetic.
22:10 Lack of other content: relaxing, reading,
22:24 Took a couple other photos, sunset selfie, “no one’s going to take a photo of me” (what the hell happened to your personal photographer?) but then people came (please post, please!)
23:40 Bake off is his life, “Noel Feilding is a national treasure”, caramel was torture while hungry, faves are Liam and not!Val (what did he whisper about Liam? Really wanted him to be…?)
24:30 *Maybe* Halloween Baking, they don’t think that far ahead about anything.
24:48 Phil’s role in Dan’s video, mugging scene took nine takes, afraid to punch him. Outtakes please!
26:03 (grimace #2) “Hello Grandma, my name is Daniel, I’m a wholesome person, that’s a very great influence”
26:16 Wachowski films
26:23 Dan floating in donut plushies would be very challenging.
26:33 Dan flips a bit at the idea that’s it’s weird to like people who don’t know who you are. Uses Ed Sheeran as example.
26:55 Scrolls past person who said they feel better when they have a dream about Dan and Phil.
27:17 Cared more about YouTube than university socializing and class, Pom Bear Massacre reference, made Tumblr account.
29:09 Chapped lips, season changed the moment he stepped off the plane.
29:42 “Okay Universe, I know I can be a bit of a downer, sometimes.”
29:51 Haley Barry Storm powers
30:08 Yes the furry blanket comes out, polyester, sad pimp, Marks & Spencer.
31:06 Ready for everything seasonal, autumnal Yankee Candle range, not haute, but fun themes.
31:31 Frisbee laptop across the room on to the bed, missed.
31:46 Candle haul, yes it is content we need right now!
32:26 Furry invasion on Splatoon, scaley, yiffing proposition, “this is a family game”, not shaming just concerned for kids, though it is hentai-esque…
33:27 Sonic: 2010 reminiscing, formatting of boxes.
34:04 Was stupid side kick, Phil being good, Dan trying to be helpful, actual just a cheerleader, Phil was disgusting, doesn’t know if Phil even knew what he was saying (of course he did).
34:38 Didn’t know uni vid was trending
34:52 Reflection (I think that’s the piano nook)
35:00 Weird because of swearing, someone at YT didn’t watch the vid, “Ah, keep doing that, don’t watch my videos, just know that I’m a good person…”
35:25 “I make great friendly content.” (grimace #3)
35:30 Explains why trending isn’t automatic. Yes, think of the children.
36:05 “But hey, I’m not bad, everything’s fine”.
36:45 “People of all genders do and don’t wear makeup”.
37:10 (I’m pretty sure that the no candles with birds is because of the fumes.)
37:25 What is with the nose touching when confirming Spooky Week? “Next video (nose touch) soon, don’t worry”…?
38:28 “Fans of everything are annoying, that’s just what happens when people are enthusiastic about stuff.”
39:19 Dan doesn’t get annoyed by different fandoms. Says more about the people being annoyed, part of their own insecurity, their lack of community, togetherness, celebration, shared experiences, jealous or sad, or maybe everyone just everyone’s annoying.
39:56 Dream Daddy: so dangerous saying Dilddy. Dan likes Damien, great taste, immaculate presentation, probably not Dilddy’s romantic soulmate.
40:31 Dan is in like ten fandoms (makes a face).
40:45 Chat: “Will Phil become a furry, what’s your fursona?” Dan: “Is it time to go?”
40:55 Has never thought about it, promises he’ll get on it soon, he knows what the internet wants from him.
41:31 Chat full of fursona suggestions. He’s going to start crying.
41:52 “A llama fucking hell.” “Look at the time.”
42:01 Going to go into a (not disturbing) hole later looking into axoltl fur suits.
42:24 Elf on a shelf meme, was going to post a Dan one, “old meme!” (Still don’t need to be up in your face Daniel.)
43:27 Really wants to go see IT, needs to see Mother.
44:04 Shut up! American Horror Story, makes him happy. Loves Sarah Paulson (is his life), feels represented by a lesbian with anxiety. Evan Peters is great, looks gross, or great depending.
45:25 His fursona should be a big bear, I agree. What a reaction.
45:46 Left comb on holiday, looks like a bush.
46:13 (grimace #4 at group chat names.)
46:20 “What is wrong with all of you?”
46:22 Glosses over diet ask. Indeed.
46:26 “Don’t call me Uncle Dan when we’re talking about fursonas.”
46:36 “If you live in Australia vote for marriage equality, we don’t need to have this conversation.” “Come on, come on Australia, sort your shit out.”
47:03 Going to “innocently Google things that are fine”.
47:22 “Me and Phil would love to come to Russia”.
47:27 Limitations of TATINOF.
47:44 Watch uni vid: “Don’t take it too seriously. Remember that most of the time I’m just trying to be funny, and if you ever want like my real feelings or opinions, just think about whatever the opposite of what I’m saying is, and that’s usually how to get to the sincere heart of whatever Dan’s talking about.”
48:13 “Stay calm, ask some senpais for some life advice and think carefully about what your fursona should be.”
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I Can’t Stop Looking At Girls I Don’t Know On Instagram
New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/happiness/i-cant-stop-looking-at-girls-i-dont-know-on-instagram/
I Can’t Stop Looking At Girls I Don’t Know On Instagram
@criene
I don’t know you, let me make that clear. I only found you because I clicked on a certain hashtag, or a location, or a tagged handle in a friend’s photo, which led me to another profile, which led me to another profile, which led me to you. You’re not a celebrity, at least not in the sense that you have the blue verified badge next to your name and over a million followers. But you have something, something unnamable, that makes people want to follow.
I’ve shown pictures of you to my hairdresser so I can ask, “Will you make me look like that?” I’ve looked up the locations of restaurants where you’ve eaten, clubs where you’ve taken shots, so I can see the prices on the menu. I know when you have a new relationship, or have gotten a haircut, or have started a juice cleanse, and every time you recycle or delete or repost a picture, I feel smug, as though I’ve caught you in the act, as though I have you figured out.
I’ll go through phases where I check in on your once a week, or every day, or sometimes months will pass by because I’ve forgotten about you (sorry) but then I’ll remember you again and have dozens of new pictures at my perusal all at once, a rare gift. I imagine what it would be like to see you walking down the sidewalk or from across a bar, but perhaps I wouldn’t even recognize you without a carefully selected filter and a FaceTuned mask, without your being able to control the contrast and saturation and color of your surroundings.
You’re a member of an NBA dance team. You teach SoulCycle. You’re a sophomore at the college I graduated from three years ago who appears to be on an eternal Spring Break. You create smoothie recipes, or you’re a reigning beauty queen, or you have abdominal muscles that make me pinch my own soft belly with almost vindictive envy. I watch you do aerial yoga and keg stands and fouetté turns and kissy faces. Maybe you’re not beautiful, at least in the conventional sense (not that I could say what conventional beauty is anymore). But I can’t stop looking at you. Wide-hipped or narrow, muscular or delicate, exhibitionist or demure or twee or drunk, all of you share one thing: you’re unapologetic. You know that I’m looking at you, and you like it.
That’s not to say you’re self-absorbed, but undoubtedly some of you are. It’s an art, maintaining your presence. You know I am watching, and so you feel the compulsion to perform. But who took that picture of you from behind, kneeling in the sand, the twin peaks of your ass perched on your bare feet? Who had the patience to film you clinking glasses with your (equally beautiful) friend over and over for last night’s Boomerang? Who were you able to commandeer into capturing your sultry grin as you slid a piece of sushi into your mouth? I have fantasies of my own perfect photos, of the images I desire to capture of myself and share with the digital world, but giving voice to those desires feels like the confession of a lurid sex act. You’re not afraid to ask for what you want, and humility is an inevitable sacrifice.
I apologize for everything. I’m sorry that my breasts aren’t bigger and that the heels I wear aren’t higher and that my arms are either not skinny enough or not muscular enough, depending on the day. I’ve dyed my hair a different color every year since I was 16. I’ve bought a dozen different facial masks from Sephora and use them nightly on a rotating basis. I spent 40 dollars on Matcha green tea powder and couldn’t even choke down a tablespoon’s worth. But still, I’m not who I want to be. I want to be posed next to a spin bike in a sports bra, hard-bodied and flexing. I want to be on the bow of a ship, my butt cheeks and boobs spilling from my bikini and a beer in my hand. I want to be a precious bride in white lace peeking up from a bouquet, so ethereal and unblemished that no one could possibly scroll by without double-tapping my poreless face. I want to collect likes and comments like coins, each “beautiful!” and “stunning!” and fire emoji bringing me a little bit closer to feeling something like content.
Sometimes my friends and I talk about you like you’re someone we know. We discuss the bandage dress with the racy cutouts that you wore last Friday, or the sun tattoo that you got around your belly button just in time for Coachella. Your wedding ‘grams gave us fodder for months—the way your hair was crowned with wild flowers, the Alexander McQueen gown that half of us liked and half of us thought was kind of slutty for a church. “I love her,” we say, “I’m obsessed with her,” but our love isn’t sexual; it’s covetous. I look at each one of you and think, I would be happy if only I looked like you. But all of you are so different; it seems the only thing you all have in common, besides not feeling the need to apologize, is that none of you are me.
When I look at you, I feel lesser, and consequently, I feel mean. Hurling insults makes me feel powerful, even if those insults are just inside my own head. I criticize the width of your thighs, the hemline of your skirt. Slut feels good; so does gaunt, and obsessive, and vain. Stupid feels the best. Even when you pair your photo with a clever caption or you’re hoisting up a diploma in a cap and gown as indisputable evidence of your intellect, I want to feel that I have something over you, something you can’t forge. I hate thinking these things, but I can’t stop thinking them any more than I can stop looking at you. I wonder, is it unfair to think that an invitation for praise must also invite criticism? Can admiration and detestation coincide? I’ll show a picture of you to my boyfriend, say, “Isn’t she kind of fat? Would you ever date a girl that muscular?” Instead of validating my critique and assuring me that I am right and that you are wrong, he asks, “Who is that? Why are you even looking at her?” I don’t know. But I can’t stop.
When I can’t sleep at night, I’ll look at you. Sometimes I’m led down a black hole, and suddenly I’m three years deep into an account profiling hundreds of you bikini-clad women, naughty co-eds, all thongs and hips and smooth, tight midsections. Iridescent waist-length hair. Thick scoops of asses. Water nymphs of all shapes and sizes, each more sumptuous and scantily clad than the next. Hours later, the LED light of my iPhone having burned an ache in my temples, I’ll wonder how I got there, how it goes so late, why I suddenly feel that I might cry.
It’s not even that I think it’s real; I know it’s not. I’ve scrolled through too many fitness Instagrams where the model shows a split screen: here I am flexing with my leggings waistband pulled up past my belly button; now here I am relaxed and slouching, soft and supple just like you! But you’re not like me; none of you are. Some of you are disciplined and talented, some of you simply born into bodies that feel cruel not to share. We don’t ask what you eat for your meals, where you buy your clothes, how much you can bench press, or how many drinks you had last night, but when you tell us, we listen, and so you continue. You seduce us. We encourage you. Can you be at once self-aware and obsessed?
And yes, there is a ‘we,’ because I know I’m not alone; I can’t be alone. In the comments, guys tag other guys. Girls tag other girls. We all look; we all gawk. What would it be like to be looked at like that outside of the filter? Every day I find myself averting my eyes from the eyes of strangers, ducking my head, shying away. It’s more comfortable to be admired through the rear window than the front.
‘Selling yourself’—it’s a skill now, not a sin. Whether you’re an aspiring actress or food blogger or photographer or just plain photogenic, you’re forced to scream out your name, forced to demand recognition, command attention. Should you be faulted for screaming louder than me? Should you be shamed for wanting to be seen?
More times a day than I care to admit, I put my thumb to my screen to select the app and scroll through your pictures. How can so many of you be so rich? How can so many of you be so beautiful? My fiancé will watch me stare into my iPhone, say, “What are you looking at? Why do you spend so much time on there?” Because I can’t stop, I want to say. Because you are so impossibly fit and cool, and I don’t know who you are when you’re not posing for a picture—I don’t know whether you’re sad or lonely or scared, because you’re already thinking about your next post, and it seems that no matter what you’re doing or trying or experiencing you’re always thinking about your next post—but I just want you to know that I’m with you. That I’ve tried, but I can’t seem to look away.
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NFL Dad: Watching Week 2 with sick kids and a barfing dog
Every week, one intrepid dad watches RedZone with two young children in his apartment. This week: broken bones, a fever, and dog vomit — many of which are metaphors.
My daughter broke her clavicle last week. It’s a common injury for young children, not just Tony Romo. She fell out of a chair a few minutes before we had to leave for her second day of preschool, and I didn’t think it was a serious injury at the time. “We have to go! Can’t miss the second day of school!” was my thinking. I should be an NFL team doctor.
So she’s in a sling for Week 2 of the NFL season (and for the next four weeks) while my son happily toddles around the house. Just kidding! My son is battling a 102-degree fever and an ear infection. Ha HA! Let’s watch some football!
EARLY GAMES, FIRST HALF
— In Pittsburgh, Sam Bradford is a late scratch due to his knee rejecting last week’s touchdown implant. Case Keenum will start, and if I had a bookie I would put my salary on the Steelers today. Instead, I move Adam Thielen to the bench on all three of my fantasy teams.
— I make five picks against the spread every week for Team OddsShark in the Las Vegas SuperContest. After a disappointing Week 1 (1-3-1), my picks this week are the Eagles +5.5 at the Chiefs, the Bucs -7 versus the Bears, the Broncos +2.5 versus the Cowboys, the Seahawks -14 versus the Niners, and the Lions +3.5 at the Giants.
I’m not sharing these picks publicly so that I can be held accountable as some kind of “expert.” It’s more to explain my rooting interests as the day goes on.
— The Pats score the RedZone Channel’s first touchdown of the day when Tom Brady lofts a pass for Rex Burkhead, capping a 10-play, 75-yard drive. It’s gonna be a long game for the Saints.
Hey, remember when the Saints were awesome at home? Now it’s just a place for them to score lots of points in a loss. The Patriots miss the extra point. I’m not too concerned about it affecting the outcome of the game.
— Not that I’m looking for silver linings, but my daughter is the ideal kid for convalescence. She’s enamored with books, and her linguistic learning is superior to her physical development. The day after her injury, she spent four straight hours on the couch, just sweating through the pain while my wife read her dozens of books.
Eventually, my wife cued up an episode of Sesame Street for her, which is a big deal since the only TV my kids usually see is whatever football they can absorb on Sundays. I didn’t think she retained any of that episode until this morning, when she picked up the menu from a local donut joint, held it up to her face, and went, “OM NOM NOM NOM NOM.” Cookie Monster has staying power.
— The Saints kick a field goal to cut the Pats’ lead in half. An Eagles drive stalls in the red zone and they settle for a field goal. Lots of field goals early. TOO many. I DEMAND TEEDERS IN MY PEEPERS.
— While Rob Gronkowski hauls in a 53-yard touchdown, my daughter is sitting next to me with her own keyboard. She knows the alphabet song and recognizes the letters in her name, but putting them together to make words is still in the distance.
I adjust the font on my notes document to a much larger size and type out her name and her brother’s name, saying the letters aloud as I type them. “Now Mommy,” she says. I type MOMMY. “Now Daddy.” I type DADDY. She says aloud the names of friends who’ve visited recently, and they get added in 48-point font.
All movie dialog for credulous aliens is written by someone with a toddler.
I highlight different names and quiz her: “Who’s this?” I say. She gets most of them wrong, but is fascinated by the highlighting, which she calls “blue tape.” This is one of my favorite things of living with someone with a solid base of English but almost no context for the world: highlighting is blue tape, Aaron Rodgers is the Yellow Man, and jerseys are “number shirts.” All movie dialog for credulous aliens is written by someone with a toddler.
— Tom Brady throws a touchdown to Chris Hogan on an illegal pick play that is so obvious, even your dimwitted, distracted columnist sees it. The referees pick up the flag, though, and Brady has his third touchdown of the first quarter.
Tom Brady has now thrown touchdowns to three different white guys.
— Matt Ufford (@mattufford) September 17, 2017
I’m loathe to be one of those writers who embeds his own tweets into his column, yet here I am. The response to the above tweet got every kind of reaction imaginable in America in 2017. There were genuine #MAGA responses, ironic #MAGA responses, people jokingly calling Brady racist, people accusing ME of calling Brady racist, people who pointed out that the feat was accomplished without Danny Amendola and Julian Edelman in the lineup, and people who were mad online that this was the “analysis” I had to offer.
Three thoughts on this:
If you have a visceral reaction to Tom Brady throwing touchdowns to white guys, I strongly recommend amending your worldview.
Really, I just felt bad for people who have Brandin Cooks in fantasy.
Twitter remains a cesspit of humanity.
— Joe Flacco’s arm-punt pins the Browns deep in their own territory. It’s impressive work: the pass is overthrown into double coverage. He sucks so hard.
God, that feels so good to type. Not a joke about whether he’s elite, just “Joe Flacco sucks and the Baltimore offense is eye poison.” Yeah, yeah, he had one good playoff run that led to a Super Bowl win. That makes him half as good as Eli Manning, and that dude sucks too.
— Drew Brees throws a short touchdown to ... Coleman? Who is Coleman? DAMMIT, BREES. Why must you always spread the ball to thirteen different receivers? Just run up the stats with Michael Thomas and Coby Fleener like a NORMAL elite quarterback would, you pyramid-scheming pygmy.
My theory: Brees has been in the league for so long that he’s like an adrenaline junkie who should have died in a stupid stunt years ago. “I CAN’T FEEL ANYTHING UNLESS THE RESERVE FULLBACK SCORES.” The next time RedZone clicks over to the Saints offense, Brees targets Ted Ginn on an end zone fade on third down. (Do I even need to tell you the pass is broken up?) THE MAN IS PERVERSE.
— Mike Glennon, previously seen fumbling the ball to his former team, throws a pick-six to put the Bucs up 24-0. I have closed the book on “Mike Glennon Revenge Game” and opened a file for “Mike Glennon, Buccaneer Sleeper Agent.”
— A dry affair in Kansas City spring to life: a Darren Sproles fumble leads to a Chiefs field goal just before half, and the Eagles appear unlikely to respond with barely any time on the clock. But Carson Wentz’s long pass down the sideline bounces out of cornerback Terrance Mitchell’s hands and into Zach Ertz’s arms. Ertz sprints into the red zone and gets knocked out of bounds with just enough time to attempt a field goal.
Andy Reid calls timeout, icing Philly’s make. The second attempt sails wide, and the Chiefs enter the half with their lead intact. UGH. I hate it when icing works. If the refs can’t blow the whistle before the snap, the kicking team should choose whether the kick counts. What’s one more bad rule in the NFL’s thousand-page refereeing handbook?
— “I falled off a chair.” That’s how my daughter describes her injury, but it’s also a nice metaphor for the first 90 or so minutes of hot, wet garbage on RedZone. Three of eight games have zero touchdowns at the half: KC leads Philly 6-3, the Titans have the same lead in Jacksonville, and the Panthers are up 6-0 at home over the Bills. HOLD ON, FELLAS. Save some of this dogshit football for Thursday night!
SECOND HALF, EARLY GAMES
— Blake Bortles throws an interception, his third turnover. The Bortling is upon us! #PoopinBortles
— The Vikings attempt a fake punt — with their punter throwing — from their own 35. And what are they supposed to do? Hope that Case Keenum wins the game for them?
The Marine Corps instilled in me some adages about hope that I believe in to this day, even as I grow soft and old. One is “Hope is not a course of action,” which is something judgmental captains usually tsk-ed at lieutenants whose plans that didn’t account for every possible outcome. But my preferred saying is “Hope in one hand, shit in the other, and see which one fills up first.”
Anyway, good on Mike Zimmer for not going quietly into the Case Keenum night.
— In Jacksonville, Derrick Henry thumps it in from 17 yards out for a 16-3 lead, and the Jags have no chance to get back in this game unless they score two defensive touchdowns
— Dalvin Cook scores 26 yards out, but he’s ruled down at the half-yard-line upon review. Fullback C.J. Ham vultures the touchdown. ZIMMER!!! I regret saying anything nice about you! Go shit in your hand, you fake-punting turd.
— Chris Hogan comes up two yards short on 3rd and 9, and the Pats kick a field goal out of politeness. It’s not like the Saints were gonna stop a 4th-and-two. This one’s over.
— Hey, the Bears are in the red zone! Down 29-0, they’re the only team with no points yet today. We join them on 2nd and 10:
Josh Bellamy immediately drops a pass. The announcers note that it’s his second drop of the drive.
Kendall Wright drops a pass on 3rd and 10.
The Bears go for it on 4th:
Mike Glennon throws a five-yard crossing route to a covered receiver on a fourth-and-10 down 29 points in the fourth quarter. It didn’t work
— Bill Barnwell (@billbarnwell) September 17, 2017
This concludes Chicago Bears RedZone Theater. There will be no refunds.
— A Carson Wentz pass deflects off a helmet and gets intercepted, setting up KC with a short field. One of the things Bill Barnwell and I talked about on his podcast while previewing Week 2 was that Wentz’s tendency to make difficult, highlight-worthy plays masks his inaccuracy on garden-variety throws for an NFL starter. This would be a good example of that.
Kansas City will turn that possession into seven points, with Travis Kelce taking a shovel pass and leaping a defender to score a touchdown pass.
.@TKelce just jumped 5 yard line...
And landed in the END ZONE.
WOWOWOWOWOW. #ChiefsKingdom #PHIvsKC http://pic.twitter.com/TasZHdfqNS
— NFL (@NFL) September 17, 2017
This is a lot more like the Alex Smith touchdown pass I’m used to than the ones he threw in New England in Week 1.
The Chiefs now lead by seven with the fourth quarter more than half gone, and I’m certain my bet of Eagles +5.5 is hopeless: they’re too hapless on offense to score a touchdown, and they’ll forego any chance of a field goal that would earn them a cover. Woe is me, the first person to know less about football than Vegas bookmakers.
— My daughter (or as my wife calls her, “f***ing FDR in bed over there”) has a severe Rear Window vibe going. Since breaking her collarbone, she has:
worn pajamas all day on Friday;
worn sweatpants all day on Saturday;
only changed out of pajamas after noon today.
And yes, I stand by my reference to a 1954 film rather than acknowledge her very obvious predisposition to follow in her father’s blogging buttsteps.
— I have a lot of notes for the stuff that happens in the Bills-Panthers and Cards-Colts games, but zero inclination to give give them any kind of context or analysis. Oh, J.J. Nelson caught a long pass against Indianapolis? ALERT REUTERS, THE FANTASY OWNERS MUST KNOW.
— My son wakes up after 3-hour nap. He immediately starts housing the macaroni and cheese he was too tired to eat at lunch. After shoving three forkfuls into his mouth, he lets his jaw hang slack, and the pasta tumbles out of his mouth and into the catch of his bib. He switches to the cold pouch of vegetables and fruit.
When we only had one kid, the pre-made pouches were an issue for my wife and me — too much cost, too much waste. We blended up organic concoctions like beets and raspberries for my daughter. But two kids? POUCHES AHOY! I have 12 minutes a week to myself, I’m not spending it making hipster baby food.
Even in small doses, the Browns are too sad for my tastes. And I like Bon Iver.
— The Browns, despite getting meaningful snaps from Kevin Hogan while DeShone Kizer was sidelined earlier by a migraine (surely not football-related!), have the ball in the red zone and the chance to make it 24-17 with more than 11 minutes left. Kizer, though, throws a pick in end zone.
I root for the Browns for approximately five minutes a week while watching RedZone, and it’s STILL too sad for my tastes. And I like Bon Iver.
— The Panthers are up 9-3 (woof) with a minute left, but the Bills are driving. Tyrod Taylor is moving the ball well. The Bills let clock burn instead of using a timeout. On 4th and 11, an open Zay Jones lays out for the catch at the 1-yard line and … drops the ball.
It a brutal way to lose. But also: maybe score more than three points before the final drive?
— Kareem Hunt scores another TD, this one hard-fought in heavy traffic, and that should do it for the Eagles.
bae caught me scorin http://pic.twitter.com/IPSVczIc1N
— SB Nation GIF (@SBNationGIF) September 17, 2017
— My next note is simply “Carson Wentz is trash,” but I no longer remember the context. You’ll have to take me at my word.
I suppose this is unfair to Wentz, who’s only in his second year. But I’m sorry: my notes are my notes, and what I write down while possibly distracted by my children and/or seven other games happening concurrently is etched in stone. The man is ginger cheesesteak feces, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
— Hey! The Bears are on the board with 1:43 left. RED LETTER DAY. Who scored? I don’t know, don’t care, and wouldn’t remember if you told me.
— Bortles TD to Hurns! Garbage time is Bortles time, baby! Use the transitive property!
The greatest QB in NFL history is "Blake Bortles down 27 points."
— Frank Schwab (@YahooSchwab) September 17, 2017
Bortles was 11-of-25 for 89 passing yards the entering 4th quarter. He went 9-of-9 for 134 passing yards in the final period. #Vintage
— Mike Kaye (@mike_e_kaye) September 17, 2017
— The Cards are backed up on their own 12-yard line with just under three minutes left with the game tied 13-13, but a long catch-and-run takes them to almost midfield. They are DEFINITELY winning this unless Carson Palmer can throw a back-breaking pick.
But no, they punt. And Colts can’t do anything either; they punt back. The specter of overtime is terrifying. The NFL shortened OT to 10 minutes this offseason, but the REAL solution is one they’ll be too chickenshit to ever make: let a tied game at the end of regulation just be … a tie. Save overtime for the playoffs, when you actually NEED a winner.
I’m serious. I don’t understand why so many Americans (a) think every sporting contest MUST have a winner, and (b) consider this attitude part of their national identity. Is it because our wars keep going to overtime?
Anyway, another successful kicker icing (UGH) leads to overtime, but thankfully Tyrann Mathieu immediately intercepts Jacoby Brissett, setting up the field goal that ends this horrific game.
— Nelson Agholor’s first catch of the day is a meaningless touchdown with 8 seconds left that pulls the Eagles to 27-20.
But then Philly recovers the onside kick! There’s a chance for the Chiefs to blow a 14-point lead in 8 seconds! This would be EXTREMELY Chiefs-y.
Alas, the Hail Mary is tipped out the back of the end zone. I realize that if the Eagles had made the 30-yard field goal at the end of the first half, they would have covered. (*shakes fist at sky*) GAMMMMMBLINNNNNNNG!
LATE GAMES, FIRST HALF
— Forget Cowboys versus Broncos. Ignore my Seahawks in their home opener. The only thing I care about is Miami-Los Angeles. Dolphins-Chargers. CUTLER VERSUS RIVERS, HELL YES BABY. It’s exactly like Marino versus Fouts, if all their arm talent was transferred to their faces.
The Chargers have failed to fill an MLS stadium that’s half the size of the smallest NFL arena, and ... is there a hot take here? Did we not see Dean Spanos brazenly screw over San Diego to move the Chargers 100 miles north to a city that already didn’t want the LAST team that moved there?
Carson, California has all the charm of the docks, minus the ocean breeze.
Do y’all know where Carson is, by the way? It’s inland from Long Beach, so it has all the charm of the docks, minus the ocean breeze. Its main draw is an IKEA. Remember the exurban factory blight-hole from the second season of “True Detective”? Carson’s not exactly that, but it’s not NOT that, either. No Angeleno is just gonna drop in on the Chargers this season.
— In Oakland, Marshawn Lynch is back doing what he does best: making the most interesting 3-yard carries in the NFL. The man just inflicts pain on a defense. On third-and-one, he bursts through line, breaks a tackle, and picks up 13 yards.
It’s his first game playing for his hometown team in front of his hometown crowd in the last season they’ll play in his hometown. I hope he scores a hundred touchdowns.
But on first-and-goal from 2, Derek Carr throws a fade to Crabtree. He pulls down the jump ball, and the box was stacked against the run, but I’m still sad for Lynch. In the other room, my daughter is crying, and I want it to be about the Raiders’ play-calling.
— There’s not much you can do about a broken collarbone besides put it in a sling and wait for it to heal. But a sling is a choking hazard for kids, so the doctor recommended that we pin my daughter’s pajama sleeve to her belly at night.
This is an excellent technique, if you want your child to sleep in a bed with open safety pins. After two nights of her thrashing her arm free, we let her sleep unrestrained. She chooses to lie on her injured right shoulder. I’m convinced this will deform her.
— FLEA FLICKER! I love flea flickers, even if the defense never bites on them quite the way I wish they would. This one isn’t all that impressive in terms of results, but check out the hustle Lynch puts into pass blocking after he pitches it back to Carr:
Flea-Flicker Alert! #RaiderNation http://pic.twitter.com/rSEx6IYAsw
— NFL (@NFL) September 17, 2017
This is gonna be a Marshawn Lynch propaganda column every week, and I’m not sorry about. I’m more enthusiastic about Beast Mode here than I am about my own children.
— Russell Wilson has converted three third-and-longs and a fourth down on Seattle’s first drive, but the Seahawks stall out a few yards from the end zone. The telecast has already shown a LOT of Pete Carroll working his gum furiously. On third-and-goal, Doug Baldwin swats away what might otherwise have been an interception. Seattle kicks a field goal.
— Emmanuel Sanders scores a touchdown on a ball perfectly lofted past three defenders to put the Broncos up 7-0.
Defenders everywhere.
But it doesn't matter.
This @TrevorSiemian to @ESanders_10 TD pass... #BroncosCountry http://pic.twitter.com/HOdRWX0Ztj
— NFL (@NFL) September 17, 2017
— I have to care for my son while my wife and daughter go next door to borrow a cup of flour. C.J. Anderson breaks three tackles to explode for a long run. Want more details? Sorry, my son has wandered into the other room, holding the baby monitor to his ear like a phone.
— A Bobby Wagner interception leads to another Seahawks field goal after another Seahawks stall in the red zone. Did Jimmy Graham get an end zone target? No, why would they do that? Wilson DOES throw a third-and-goal pass to Tanner McEvoy, though, who drops the touchdown. And it’s easy to see the Seahawks’ logic: at six-foot-five, McEvoy is shorter than Graham, but also not as good.
almost like tanner mcevoy hasn't caught 20 total passes since he left high school
— Field Gulls (@FieldGulls) September 17, 2017
I’m not one of those fans who roots for coaches to be fired. That’s why I want all of the coaches responsible for Seattle’s offense to be dropped into an active volcano.
— Lots of red at the Coliseum in support of Washingto — wait. No, sorry, those are just empty seats. Lots of empty red seats.
— I will probably never say this enough (in this space or in real life), but my wife is the hero of this column, of Sundays, of my whole life. If you put me in charge of two toddlers for a day, I will throw them bricks of pre-made food until help arrives and I collapse across the finish line.
But here’s my wife, holding our 16-month-old in one arm while she helps my daughter (herself one-armed) make individual pizzas with the other. There are not enough arms for this work. I take my son and put him in my lap while I type.
He’s fussy from being sick, so I hold him in my arms and cuddle him. Washington is up 10-0 and driving at will, but my son is staring into my face from four inches away. I am definitely breathing in his death-virus. His bright blue eyes are light near the pupil, ringed by a royal blue on the outside, like my father’s. He stares and I stare back, lost in the moment. He lets out a low, rippling fart.
— Disregarding petty things like rooting interests and outcomes, Jay Cutler is my favorite player in all of football.
Jay Cutler slinging a Hail Mary 20 yards out of bounds cracked me up http://pic.twitter.com/erbIPVVkQf
— Mike Renner (@PFF_Mike) September 17, 2017
He just gets me.
— Hey, Marshawn Lynch gets an actual carry on first-and-goal! It goes for zero yards. Crap, here come the end zone fades.
But no! Lynch gets the ball on second down, too. He’s hit immediately, and somehow breaks two tackles in the backfield to gain a yard or two.
On third-and-goal, the Raiders hand it to Lynch again, and he bursts up the middle for an easy score. FEED THE BEAST, YOU CRAVEN PASS-HAPPY COSPLAYERS.
— Even though it’s time for dinner and his bath, my son, groggy with exhaustion, goes down for a nap. My daughter rejects her pizza because part of the crust got stuck to the pan. All of her food must be WHOLE. You should’ve seen the tantrum I weathered because I cut her sandwich in half once. You could have seen it; it happened in public.
— Jimmy Graham is helped off the field after an apparent knee injury. On one hand, I’m stricken with concern. On the other is all of the world’s sarcasm, packed more densely than a neutron star. “Well gosh! Now he can’t do all that nothing for the Seahawks offense!”
Luke Willson, next up on the depth chart, immediately gets three targets. By the end of the game, my molars will be smooth like a stone shaped by the ebb and flow of millennia of tides.
— Carlos Hyde breaks off a 61-yarder to put San Francisco in the red zone, but c’mon: we know this won’t be a touchdown. Michael Bennett sacks Brian Hoyer on 3rd-and-six, and eschews his usual hip thrusts to raise a fist in protest.
Michael Bennett celebrated a sack against the 49ers with a raised fist. http://pic.twitter.com/J46niolm4G
— SB Nation (@SBNation) September 17, 2017
My daughter, now eating her pizza, raises a black power fist in solidarity. She’s gonna turn out all right.
— Todd Gurley hurdles over a defender; a few plays later, Jared Goff dumps it to Gurley on a blitz for 28 yards. I write “these teams are trash” even though they’re both far more entertaining than MY trash team, which has allowed San Francisco to get back in the red zone after the Niners got a huge play by running a draw play on third-and-12.
This sport is bad. The Niners and ‘Hawks go into halftime tied 6-6. I think about taking the Seahawks -14 today. “Maybe the defense will score a touchdown,” I lie to myself.
LATE GAMES, SECOND HALF
— I’m facing Jay Cutler in fantasy (it’s a deep league) and I can’t bring myself to root against him. But then, I never root for Cutler’s success or failure: I only root for him to be himself, and that is all he ever is, and that is why he’s never disappointed me.
Devonta Parker makes a tremendous catch down the sideline to set up first-and-goal, and then Cutler is himself. He overthrows a receiver in the end zone, then gets sacked on third down by Melvin Ingram (The Chargers lead the league in Melvins). The Dolphins kick a field goal to take the lead.
— Oh hey, Broncos and Cowboys! It’s the first quarter in this game after a weather delay. Forgot about y’all for a while there.
— Cordarrelle Patterson gets a handoff for the Raiders on 3rd-and-1 around midfield, and he takes it to the house. With his braids and visor, he looks like a very tall and disappointing Marshawn Lynch who is slowing down before the end zone. If Lynch did this, I would celebrate his swag. But it’s Patterson, so I chalk it up to him being a lazy draft bust. I’m an enlightened fan!
— Trevor Siemian gets sacked and fumbles, and the Cowboys recover inside the Denver 5-yard line. What happens next? My neighbors borrow two tablespoons of olive oil, my son gets up from his nap, and my daughter out of the bath running around naked. (Dez Bryant scores a TD, I think.)
— My son is mostly a nonverbal little chimp, but when I ask him, “How’s the pizza, buddy?” he responds, “Good.” I glimpse a future where he’s not communicating by pointing at things and grunting at me, and one of the million tiny weights of parenthood is lifted from my shoulders.
— With Eddie Lacy already a healthy scratch for the Seahawks, Thomas Rawls starts the second half on bench. Chris Carson looks good on three straight runs, and if you have any Seahawks on your fantasy team, I can only remind you: you did this to yourself.
— Jalen Richard scores for the Raiders on a 52-yard rush. I’m happy for them, but I also have an interest in Marshawn’s fantasy success, and these waiver-wire dildos are feasting on the defense that Beast Mode wore down. I DEMAND SATISFACTION, SIRS.
— Another Todd Gurley hurdle (GURDLE), this time for a TD:
Be careful out there, folks. Todd Gurley might be hurdling you as you read this. Head on a swivel!
— My son is walking around, now using a Wii remote as a phone. My daughter throws Magna-Tiles, earning a timeout. NEVER THROW MAGNA-TILES. They are Daddy’s most cherished toy. Seriously, I could build Magna-Tile structures for HOURS if we just had some more of them. Each individual square is like $30.
— Crabtree catches his third touchdown (the Raiders’ sixth). There are still 12-plus minutes left in the 4th quarter, but you know the saying: the game’s over when Marshawn dances on the sideline.
— RedZone has stopped showing Niners-Seahawks altogether, and I respect the decision. I follow the play-by-play on Twitter. Russell Wilson sails two throws on a 3-and-out. I close Twitter.
In the other room, my wife is reading Someday to my daughter, a book with such an emotional punch I sobbed the first time I read it to her — just ugly-crying, gasping for air. My wife and I can now read it without losing our faces, but it still makes me feel like I’m missing out on valuable family time. I pause the TV so I can help with bedtime.
— 7:14 pm: Kids are in bed, and I’m about 25 minutes behind realtime. Emmanuel Sanders catches his second touchdown, and my wife is lying down on our new shag carpet, looking at Instagram. Every day after the kids go to bed, we look at our phones for 10 minutes before engaging each other.
Regarding the Broncos, though: Trevor Siemian is … good? He takes what the defense gives him, throws it away when there’s nothing there, and distributes the ball well to his weapons.
— Cody Parkey puts the Dolphins up 19-17 with 1:05 to play. Rivers is gonna throw a pick, isn’t he?
Not to start, at least. His first pass is a “bullet” — please note the sarcasti-quotes — to Keenan Allen for a first down, then he finds hunter Henry, then Melvin Gordon, then Allen again. Keenan Allen is such a good route-runner; he’s a ton of fun to watch when he’s not inju— (*Allen loses his legs in a freak combine harvester accident*).
What happens next is perfectly befitting a Jay Cutler-Philip Rivers game.
What happens next, in the game’s final seconds, is a comedy of errors perfectly befitting a Jay Cutler-Philip Rivers game. I refuse to hash out the details, but the gist is this: the Chargers try to blow the game with a stupid decision, but the Dolphins bail them out by calling timeout. So Younghoe Koo comes out for the game-winning kick — and for once there will be no icing, because the Dolphins can’t call timeout twice in a row.
And a week after missing a kick that would have sent the game into overtime, Koo ... misses another kick. Oh no. Oh my darling, flipping boy. DON’T CUT HIM, THE FIRST KICK WAS THE LINE’S FAULT.
Scott Hanson, usually happy to direct the viewer to the next bit of action, takes the time to LAMBASTE both teams, saying they’ll both regret their “debauched” decisions. Hell yes. 10/10, best game of the day.
— With the Seahawks (ugh) trailing (UGH) 9-6 (UGH!!), Russell Wilson runs for a first down on third-and-one. There are 10 minutes left in the game and it somehow feels over? Or maybe I just want it to be over? I crave the end of this game and/or the sweet kiss of death.
Touchdown, Seahawks! Wilson evades a hungry pass rush on third-and-seven, rolls to his left, and finds Paul Richardson in the end zone. It’s Seattle’s first touchdown of the season, and it only took them an hour and 52 minutes-plus of game time. Certainly this is a Super Bowl contender, and not a critically flawed team.
Blair Walsh misses the extra point. Niners trail by three. Of course.
— A Jonny Hekker fake punt! The Rams may not have Jeff Fisher around to call the all-fake-punt offense, but they still know who their best player is.
Wait, why am I watching the Rams? I hit fast forward.
— Jamaal Charles gets a carry for the Broncos, who are cruising at altitude. It’s still weird to see him in a Broncos uniform. There should be government subsidies to pay star running backs to stay with their defining teams.
— After a Niners three-and-out, Chris Carson picks up a couple first downs on the ground, and the Seahawks are going to kneel this one out.
My dog starts gagging over the rug. NO! The whole reason we got the new rug is because she barfed on the old one too many times. As she horks, I chase her away from the rug, and she vomits on the hardwood floor instead. She’s a Rottweiler mix, and even as 65-pound dogs go, it’s a lot of vomit.
But I’m thankful, I guess. Cleaning a liter of dog barf off of a hardwood floor instead of out of a shag carpet approximates what I just what went through with Niners-Seahawks. God was a little heavy-handed with the metaphor, but I can at least appreciate the timing.
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