“Almost there…almost there…”

"Are you sure you can handle this thing?"

I feel like Garven Dreis piloting an X-Wing through a narrow corridor on the face of the Death Star trying to get to the ventilation shaft: Today is the last day of finals for the school year. Between now and Monday, I’ll need to grade 33 British Authors Honors Exams, finish reading through 11 more Frankenstein papers, give a speech at the Awards luncheon on Saturday, and finally, attend the graduation activities on Sunday. That’s all that stands between me and freedom. Now, I know what you’re thinking, “Gee, Phil, for someone of your legendary laziness, this seems like a lot to get through in a relatively short period if time.” Technically, you are right. The truth is my laziness is so refined that any task in any amount of time seems like a tall order. But I’ll have help:

Back in the day, I was capable of amazing things like staying up for 51 straight hours while subsisting on junk food, vivarin, and Coke (the drink, not the drug). In that time, I pumped out two 10-page papers, went to all my classes, then washed it all down with a 3-hour marathon of Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater.

Now that I am older, I can no longer pull off stunts. If I don’t get at least 6 hours of sleep, my head feels like it is caving in, my vocabulary shrinks by 72%, and I sing the wrong words to songs while driving into work. Like so many professional athletes that fall out of their primes, I have had to make adjustments to remain a serviceable teacher, and honestly, it’s all psychological.

I am at the phase in my teaching career where I no longer have to do any “pre-reading.” I have an extensive database of trivial information stored away in my head. I also have imaginary lesson plans stowed away. Both stacks of information are filed away under “Shit that won’t really help you in real life.” Basically, I can look at where ever we are in the book, and I’ll know exactly what it is I need to lecture about, what stories to tell, and what jokes to recycle for the lecture. It’s like stand-up comedy, only not funny, and it won’t lead to me getting my own tv show that isn’t really humorous at all, but the laugh track kind of makes it feel like it might just be.

My head is racing and my hand hurts.

At least Michaels is awake when he drops it.

So, I have turned to Starbucks to help me through these trying times. It’s all about adjustments, and through a rigorous process of trial-and-error, I’ve discovered that a Mocha Frappuccino will enable me to stay awake through stacks of term papers. Now, the size of the drink is directly related to how much sleep will be allowed. If I have to work the next day, I go with the grande. If I don’t have to work the next day and can play video games for 3 hours when I get home, then I go with the venti. There is a trade-off, though, to this kind of performance-enhancing substance: I have a really hard time sleeping.

When I get home-regardless of the size of the drink I order-I can’t fall asleep. I update my fantasy baseball teams, take a shower, brush my teeth, catch up on my 47 Words With Friends games, then try to sleep. Lynnette and Madison are both out long before I even try to force myself to sleep. I sleep on Mad’s right side, and that means I run the risk of catching her stink thumb right under my noise, or her elbow in my eye orbital. I know she’s only 3, but when it’s 11:30 at night and you’re fighting to get to sleep, her little elbow drop feels like the one portrayed on the left, or at least the ones Ludacris (and all his back-up dancers) did in the “Southern Hospitality” video.

Whenever she unleashes one of her patented Insomniac Elbow Drops on me, I want to rage. It doesn’t really hurt, but by then, I’ve already worked myself up into a silent frenzy thinking about things like how little sleep I’m going to get, what the drive into work will feel like, how I’ll get that light-headed feeling in right before lunch, and if I’ll have to go to the Aloha gas station to buy cigarettes. I’m dealing with a lot of heavy stuff. When Mad whacks me in the middle of that, I want to bite her in the elbow (somewhat gently), but I always talk myself out of it because I know that her getting up and crying would be worse than suffering the indignity of her elbow drilling me or her wet, sour thumb hooked into my left nostril. I love my daughter. That much.

In addition to the coffee, I’ve also engaged in other psychological ploys to get me through this horrid time of year. As seen in the picture at the top of the page, I’ve purchased a 4-pack of pens in green, pink, blue, and orange. I grade papers in groups of four, using the each pen once. When I have completed a set, I walk outside of the Starbucks to have a cigarette, catch up on my 46 games of Words With Friends (I just beat down somebody), and text Brett some kind of nonsense because he always makes me laugh, and I need levity more than anything else when I read the sentence that starts with “In Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein…” 12 times. I know it doesn’t seem like much, but if I think of that fat stack of papers as groups of groups of 4, then the task seems so much more manageable. Also, it makes me feel like I’m not doing the same thing over and over again with the same pen, because I’m not. Yes, I’m doing the same thing over and over again, but when you move from green ink to pink, it looks like something completely different. Sure, perhaps you think that’s stupid. You might just be right, but you’re not the one “DO NOT USE CONTRACTIONS!” so much that you should have just had a stamp made.

I’ll be honest, I’m pretty damned good at finding the metaphor in everything, but this video has always left me puzzled. In a few short days, I will be basking in the overall sentiment of the song itself, but visually, there’s nothing in my life that is akin to singing in the middle of a fire swamp, having hired muscle dump dead bodies in said swamp, or getting eaten by a giant CGI spider. But in a few days, for two sweet months, I will be free.

Spring Break ’11: Tuesday Night/Wednesday Morning

I just turned on the TV to find the Mets on ESPN. It was 1-1. By the time I was able to type the first sentence of this blog, the score was 2-1 Cardinals. F*ck. Manny Acosta is on the mound. Runners on 2nd and 1st. I would bet good money at least one of them score. Looks like we’ll just have to wait and see.

Limos is actually standing in the next room. It was the only way to get him in the shot.

And I would have won that bet. Three-run homer on an 0-2 count. What a joke.

The Just-Us League got together last night (minus Jo and Virginia and Hilary). Pretty much just the guys. The Hackbarths were gracious enough to host dinner and a card game at their house (also, Dale took everyone’s money).

Chris (chutney long-sleeve), Scott (glasses, back row), Dale (Superman shirt) and I all started at Damien during the 2002-2003 school year. Limos was already there for roughly 9 years by the time we got there. I was 22 and behaved like it. In talking about some of the things we did back then, it seems like a strange bizzaro world that existed a lifetime ago. Scott pointed out that we used to go out on Thursday nights, then end up lecturing the next day. That doesn’t even seem like a possibility anymore. It’s not because it’s physically impossible, prohibited by law, or against some kind of personal code that I’ve established for myself.

The late writer David Foster Wallace wrote (I’m paraphrasing for simplicity’s sake) that the process of aging is the forfeiture of options. The first time I read that, I understood it to mean the kind of forfeiture that was decided for you. Being too old to be on “The Real World,” or being too slow to play hardball. But that’s not what the idea of partying on Thursday nights is.

Ocean’s College Thursdays (even if it still existed) is exactly the kind of thing that never even enters my mind anymore. I’ve been de-programmed to even consider it. It’s like the way I never go to Kicks or In4mation anymore: it just doesn’t seem worth doing. There was never a moment where I decided “I’m done with going to smoky clubs with music that’s too loud to ogle girls 5 years younger than I am.” It just happened less and less until it stopped happening.

But hanging out with this particular group of people always brings with it its own context. Limos (the guy flexing on the left) always calls the time when we all worked together “The Glory Days,” and they were. They were times when the Just-Us League would roll up with IMOP and a whole slew of other people and any time/place was a party. They were times my actual mission for the night could be simply stated as “get trashed.” They were times when Brett still lived on the island and Lynnette wore skirts (“I can’t really chase Madison around wearing skirts,” she says. I frickin’ hate you, practicality. I hate practicality as much as Dave from “The Real World: Seattle” loved Kira.). We’ve all grown up, Scott, Dale, and Chris have moved on from Damien, and I will complete my 9th year at Damien in May. We spend the first hour of these kinds of get-togethers catching up. That means stories about potty-training, kids’ sports, and questions like “Whatcha been up to?” Once that shit gets out of the way, it’s all the old stories: people getting drilled in the head with a discus, people showing up to work to find a half-full beer bottle on their desk, people throwing shot glasses, etc. It’s always good times when we get to actually spend a little time catching up, playing cards, and reliving the kind of stupidity that can only ever happen when you’re young and free of responsibilities (other than the education of high school students, I mean).

I just stepped out to have a cigarette and some Mets minor leaguer I’ve never heard of hit a three-run bomb. The lesson: I should just stop watching them.

*I forgot my iPod in my classroom on Friday. No biggie. I thought I would pick it up yesterday when I went to practice. Except the walkway outside of my classroom was resurfaced, and I couldn’t walk on it. So I couldn’t get into my classroom. So I am still iPod-less. So, anyone who happens to be wondering why I haven’t made a move on Words With Friends, it’s not that I’m doing really crazy/cool things during my spring break. It’s just that I can’t get to my iPod.

*Speaking of crazy/cool things to do on Spring Break, I’ve got a really exciting line-up of laundry and bathroom cleanings to do today. If I can muster the strength, I’ll also vacuum the house. Finally, if I can manage it, I will also get some grading in tonight. Spring Break: It ain’t what it used to be.

*The Mets game just ended. They lost 5-3. I’m steeling myself for a lot of those this summer. Silver lining? I have three fantasy drafts on Sunday. Also a softball game. Un-silver lining? I have to go to work the next day.

The New Superman, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, and The New York Mets Financial Issues

Maybe it was Brandon Routh's turn as a gay pornstar (and Justin Long's lover) in Zack and Miri that prevented him from reprising the role of Superman. Whatever. Here's your new Man of Steel. I'm not impressed. Unless one of Superman's new powers is to piss me off, because if it is, that's really amazing.

Henry Cavill (left) will be the next actor to play Clark Kent/Superman in a feature film.  According to comingsoon.net, the film is aiming for a December 2012 release. That’s about all the information available other than Zach Snyder (300, Watchmen) is directing and Christopher Nolan helped with the script.

The reason Superman movies ultimately fail is because he is boring. His entire history is an anachronism since newspapers are on life support and the boy scout angle is not only unbelievable, but also irritating as the world has loosened its moral standards on just about everything. It doesn’t matter how well Ma and Pa Kent raised you in 2011. If you’ve got an internet connection, you’ll learn eventually. Hey, DC Comics! Marvel’s film productions are crushing you. Figure it out. Justice League of America movie, bitches!

I'm a Marvel guy and even I know that the JLA would kill the Avengers.

There’s an inherent problem with the Justice League of America that has always made it difficult to envision an on-screen version: the main seven characters (left) are from such different worlds that it’s hard to come up with a believable scenario in which they’d all come together. The Avengers never had this problem because most of the time, the team was comprised of lesser characters who were only Avengers. The Wasp and Ant Man didn’t really have a whole lot going on outside of whatever Captain America told them to do. The JLA, though? Each of them essentially had their own “territories” (L to R: Coast City/Earth in general, Keystone City, Metropolis/Earth in general, Gotham City, where ever the Amazons live, the entire ocean, where ever Martian Manhunters roam) to protect. Still, someone should get on this. Or hire me to get on it. I’d come pretty cheap. Aside: I saw a 300-plus pound man in a Flash t-shirt yesterday. My intention is not to be cruel, but the first thought that popped into my head was “Oh, the irony.” And then I said what would possibly be the most ironic t-shirt I could wear and I settled on something with dollar signs on it.

A dye job, a couple of piercings, a hunger strike, and a cigarette dangling from the lips and I guess she could pull of Lisbeth Salander.

I’m about 200 pages into the final book of Stieg Larsson’s Millennium Trilogy, The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets’ Nest. I started reading the book primarily on the indirect recommendation of a friend. She and I were playing a game of Words With Friends. I made an observation that she seemed to make movies near or after midnight on work nights. She said she was a night person. I asked what the hell would possess her to stay up until 1 in the morning on a work night and she said it was the book she was reading.

My literary interest is fairly limited. I read a bunch of stuff I have to for school and that is rarely fun. My leisure reading usually falls into pretty obvious categories like “baseball,” or “written by Malcolm Gladwell” or “written by Chuck Klosterman.” Honestly, I generally stay away from works of fiction like The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.

A series of random events resulted in the purchase of the book. There was a lot of buzz on the internet about the list of young American actresses who were foaming at the mouth to play the protagonist, Lisbeth Salander. Eventually, Rooney Mara (left) won the role in the film that will be directed by David Fincher (Fight Club, The Social Network). She will star alongside James Bond (Daniel Craig) and Princess Buttercup (Robin Wright).

There were also the stacks of the paperback versions of the first two novels starting at me from their position in Costco for something like 2 months straight. Finally, Klosterman, Simmons, and Gladwell had all just released books in the not-so-distant past, my reading options were pretty slim. I also learned that I would have to wait until March for this book, so really, it was kind of a default decision. It was kind of like messing around in college. I didn’t really have anything else going on, I gave it a chance, it was pretty good, it’ll be over soon, but hey-at least it was fun while it lasted. Well, um, that’s what I heard it’s like to mess around in college, anyway. I really wouldn’t know because I was too busy studying English Literature. Alright, I couldn’t even type that with a straight face.

At least pretend you give a shit, Fred.

From ESPN.com:

The New York Times, citing two lawyers involved in the Madoff cases, reported Friday that Picard is seeking to recoup hundreds of millions of dollars from approximately 100 financial entities under the control of Fred Wilpon and team president Saul Katz. Picard has the leeway to not only go after ill-gotten gains but also can pursue greater amounts depending on what his investigation reveals about the conduct of Madoff clients.

In the lawsuit, Picard wants to recover $300 million of what he describes as “fictitious profits” accrued by the Wilpon and Katz business interests, as well as additional money, according to the Times report citing the two lawyers.

One source told the newspaper that Picard could seek up to $1 billion.

And…

The Wilpons are looking to sell a 20 to 25 percent share in the team, but any sale would be limited to a stake in the team and not SportsNet New York or the stadium.

Finally…

The Mets have vigorously asserted that the team has not been affected by the Madoff affair, so Friday’s announcement that an infusion of cash from other investors is needed marks a deviation from past statements. The team has committed only $8.1 million in major league contracts this offseason, although the Wilpons still estimate the club’s payroll will be in the $145 million to $150 million range this season because of past contract commitments.

“I want to emphasize that what we are discussing today has not and will not affect or change the Mets’ day-to-day operations and control,” Fred Wilpon said. “We will continue to operate the franchise in a first-class manner. This season we have one of the highest payrolls in baseball, as we have for the past several years.”

There’s no real way to understand what it might mean (specifically) in the Mets in the long run. But it’s not good. It’s just another problem stacked atop the mountain of problems the Mets have accumulated over the past 6 years or so. I know that only time will tell what happens with the Mets, but at the very least, the fact that they’re exploring the sale of ownership stake means they’ve been lying to me (okay, Mets fans in general) since the Madoff scandal went down. It’s going to be an interesting time to be a Mets fan. Other than the fact that they’re going to suck for a while, there’s all this shit, too. *Sigh* Mets in 2011!

Not-So-Deep Thoughts (part 39)

1. Did Paramore’s “The Only Exception” supplant John Mayer’s “Daughters” as the most oddly touching and socially conscious song in a pop package? Aren’t Haley William’s lyrics indicative of an entire generation of young people who grew up in single-parent or mixed-family households? Don’t the overall themes- being hopeful through a painfully horrible reality, and being realistic in a the face of hope that’s too good to be true- define America right now?

2. It’s reported that “The Situation” from MTV’s Jersey Shore will make something in the neighborhood of $5 million dollars this year in salary and endorsements. Despite being painted as an idiot along with the rest of the cast, don’t his new financial projections cement him as an “accidental genius” at least? I mean, sure, the show just kind of fell into his lap, but since then, he’s been savvy enough to hold out for more money, done commercials with David Wright, and he’s managed to do nothing other than be himself. It is better to be lucky than good sometimes, but you’ve still got to be heady enough to capitalize when you do get lucky. He’s just Jessica Simpson 2.0, right?

Yes, there is crying in baseball if your dad is the coach.

3. I know that Tom Hanks’ body of work speaks for itself, and he’ll probably resurface every few years as Robert Langdon in whatever movie they’re making out of whatever Dan Brown novel is possible at the time, but I miss the old Tom Hanks. I miss the Tom Hanks that would play anything: alcoholic baseball coach (left), AIDS victim, kid in a grown-up’s body, lone survivor on a deserted island. His performance in Angels and Demons merely made me glad that he made it through the entire movie without sounding sick with the flu like he did in The Da Vinci Code. Tom Hanks films never really had the sense of a “blockbuster” in the traditional Will Smith-sense, but I always looked forward to those films when he’d team up with a noted director, then just act everyone else off the screen. He’s still got to have it in him, right? Doesn’t he ever read about Daniel Day-Lewis’ run of a few years ago, or Leo DiCaprio’s run now and just think “I could kill these guys?” Couldn’t he just decide “Screw it, I’m going to remind people I’m still the man,” then run off like three performances that are just amazing? Wouldn’t that be more exciting than wondering which comic book the movie studios are going to butcher next?

4. Do the creators of “Words With Friends” have to pay serious royalties to the makers of “Scrabble?” It seems a little disingenuous if they were to claim that it’s an entirely new game when it’s essentially the same thing. Don’t get me wrong, I love the game, but if their only claim to fame was that they made the app before Hasbro did, that’s week. Like Vanilla Ice claiming the hook for his greatest (“Ninja Rap” is a really close second) hit is completely different from Queen’s “Under Pressure” because it contains an extra beat. I mean, technically, it’s true, but that can’t be good for your career or cred, can it?

I've been trying all my life to "design someone right out of the picture," just to be able to say I did it.

5. North Shore has probably got to be one of the all-time “there’s-no-way-they-could-ever-remake-that-film” movies, right? I think I would riot if I even heard a rumor of this happening. As it stands, the film is the local standard for unintentional comedy, with everything from Turtle’s pidgin to the short neon boardshorts to Lance Burkhart’s “What the hell are you supposed to be?” halloween costume that consisted of body paint and… that’s about it. Who could they get to hammer out the “Here on da Nort Shore we treat frenz mo’ bettah?” line as horribly (awesome) as Josh Philbin? “You know da guy Rick Kane? He gonna stomp your ass!” I learned so many things from this movie- like the more local you are, the less your curl your fingers when you throw a shaka, it’s cool to tuck your slippers into the front pocket of your denim jacket, and most importantly, “When the wave breaks here, don’t be there, or you’re gonna get drilled.” That last bit might matter if I could surf. Which might matter if I could swim. I can’t possibly the only one who hopes that prays for real-life situations that would let me reply with such wit as “You took his stuff, you pound him,” or “The Brazilians are back- more agro than evah,” or “Haole to you, too!” can I?

6. I don’t know about you, but I’m dying to try Domino’s Pizza after the reboots and the huge ad campaign they’ve launched touting better pizza. I can’t lie. I’m honestly getting tired of Pizza Hut. I eat the Costco French Bread Pizza like most locals eat rice. I need a little change. Is there a Domino’s anywhere near Mililani? Would they even deliver to Mauka? Apparently the Domino’s Pizza near Electro’s- I mean Security Alarm Shop in Pearl City  closed a while ago. My wife says of the location in Wahiawa, “I can’t tell if it’s in working order or not.” Not a good sign, right? According to Yahoo! Maps, there’s a location still open in Aiea, but the actual maps say its in a residential area. What the hell? This would only be cool if it were a Domino’s Pizza speakeasy. It operates out of a house and you’ve got to know someone who know where it is- like the hot bread in Molokai. Damn. Now I want hot bread with the works.

Tech Snags

It’s July. I know what happens next. August and work. I feel like Cher (sans crazy outfits). I wish I could turn back time. That, however, would require the type of machinery I don’t think I can operate considering I’ve hit a few speed bumps as far as technology goes.

*Earlier in the year a fried of mine turned me on to Words With Friends. I don’t have an iPhone, but I do have second gen iPod Touch. Well, I downloaded the game and enjoyed playing it until it informed me that it could no longer be played on the default operating system that came with the iTouch. So I downloaded the upgrade- pretty much solely so I could continue getting my ass kicked by Hazel- a Words With Friends monster- and play pass off games with my wife. Well, in days after the upgrade, a peculiar thing began happening whenever I’d listen to music in the car. I’d be in the middle of a song, then all of a sudden, it would skip to another. Now, this might not seem like a big deal except I like to belt out the songs playing on my iPod. Believe me, when I run through my playlist and select a song, it’s because I’m looking forward to screaming along. My version of Easy Lover features Phil Collins, Philip Bailey and Philip Higa. You can imagine, then, my dismay when I’d be in the middle of screaming “It’s the only waaaaay- you’ll ever kno-oh-oh-oh-ah-aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah” only to have the iTouch to ruin my flow by jumping to “Landslide” by Fleetwood Mac or something like that. I haven’t figured out how to change the actual setting on the iTouch itself, so I’ve had to come up with a less tech-savvy solution. I’ve deduced that the problem is the rather bumpy ride of my car. Previously, I had left the iPod on the passenger seat. Now, I lay the device on my thigh. The hypothesis is that my thigh meat would absorb most of the shock and vibration before it transferred to the iPod. It has worked so far. The only draw back is an aesthetic one: I assume drivers who pass me  by believe that I have an unhealthy affinity for staring deeply into my own crotch. I suppose, however, that such a problem is better than appearing to be singing passionately, then stopping suddenly, turning my head to the right, then mouthing a swear word.

*My desktop computer has issues. I purchased AVG’s security software because I couldn’t renew my old one. Just a heads-up for any internet companies out there: get your shit straight. If you send me an e-mail telling me I have to re-up, don’t tell me that that same e-mail address doesn’t exist when I try to log in to the site. That kind of things infuriates me. So yeah, I downloaded the AVG stuff and it’s done a great job of cleaning up the mess left by the older software. I suppose Brett will write in with a few suggestions regarding what I should have done, but it is too late for me. Tell your sister you were right about me. Tell you her you were right. Anyway, the software is saying that I have some kind of “potential virus threat” on my computer. I’ve done some surfing for ways to remove this PVT, but it’s written in a language I barely recognize as English. I’ll have to live with it until I can schedule a meeting with my computer guy, Austen, who has helped me with such things before. It doesn’t have to happen right now, but part of me hopes that the computer’s performance is eventually ravaged by this thing, thus giving me an excuse to purchase a new, more powerful computer. This new computing device would have one sole purpose: to allow me to wander around a fake world and kick ass with a light saber and/or buy really expensive guns and kill Jedi as a bounty hunter. Who am I kidding? I’m thrilled that The Old Republic is going to feature so many different playable classes, it sure as hell beats breaking out the old Xbox every summer and asking myself if I played the game as a “good guy/bad guy or good girl/bad girl” last summer. You’d think after playing the same game 6 times or whatever, it would get boring. You’re right. It’s extremely boring. But the last time I checked, I couldn’t wander around the real world and kick ass with a light saber.

*I wrote earlier about finding the HDMI out on my laptop. Aside from all of the obvious possibilities that involve adult entertainment, the biggest impact this has is that I can watch the Mets broadcast from MLB.TV on my TV in the living room. The snag, however, is that my receiver is old and I think it doesn’t work most HDMI receivers do. It’s supposed to take both the video and audio from the HDMI cable, but it doesn’t. It relies on an opt0 cable for the audio. I haven’t had the time to try straight into the TV yet, but what’s happened is that I have to blast the speakers on the computer (not great) and watch the video on the TV. The reason MLB.TV is so important is because it allows me to select the SNY Mets team featuring Keith Hernandez (left), Ron Darling (center), and Gary Cohen. I can’t stand listening to other teams’ telecast teams for the same reason I only want to listen to Keith, Ron, and Gary- they only talk about what’s going on with their team. I don’t care. I only want to know about the Mets. If it’s important for me to know anything about the other team, Gary will tell me, Keith will give his opinion, and Ron will provide insight. Then we can move past that and talk about stuff that’s really important like the likelihood of the Mets acquiring another frontline starter for the stretch run or Carlos Beltran’s return to the line-up. Getting the computer/TV/receiver set up is an ongoing process, but I’m used to that, as I am married and I have a two-year old daughter. There’s nothing that can’t be done. Michael McManus said that, and you know what? I believe him.