So far, it's not been a banner season for any of my teams.
The good news for the NC State Wolfpack football team is their ACC record (1-0) and their record against ranked teams (1-0). Any scientist worth her salt will tell you, however, that an n of 1 is meaningless. The big picture for my Pack is their overall record (2-2) and their record against Division I-AA teams (1-2).
I was willing to chalk up our loss to the University of Akron Zips -- and doesn't it just make it that much worse when you lose to a team called the "Zips"? -- to random chance. I could even go so far as to call it a necessary balance to the karmic scales from my freshman year. In that year, one of the best Wolfpack football years in recent memory, we went 9-3 and earned a berth in the Peach Bowl. We unfortunately lost to East Carolina University in an embarrassing 4th quarter debacle, but during that season we had some incredible wins. One of those was against the Thundering Herd of Marshall. After an onside kick, a controversial call went our way and we salvaged our season from the ignominy of losing to a I-AA team. (Marshall didn't return to I-A status until 1997.) Maybe our loss to Akron was written in the stars.
But the very next week we lost to Central Michigan by 20 points. Now we'd lost two games to I-AA teams. Two! It was just more than I could bear. Unable to win against these "easy" opponents, I held out little hope for a win against our next opponent -- the 20th ranked, Division I-A Boston College Eagles. Worse, it would be a conference loss since BC joined the ACC a couple of seasons back.
My cell phone is supposed to receive a text message with the final score after every NC State football game, but for some reason I didn't receive one last night. I honestly figured it was just God's way of sparing my feelings. So last night, having returned home from a lovely date, I braced myself and checked what I presumed would be the lopsided score against BC.
To say I was shocked that we beat BC 17-15 is quite an understatement. Then I found out that we won playing a redshirt sophomore quarterback. Holy Shit, what does that say about our recruiting? And that's not to take one iota of credit away from Daniel Evans. From the reports I've read online, he did a helluva job.
I think maybe the football players have decided they don't want Chuck Amato to be without a job. If they can continue to amaze us on the gridiron like they did yesterday in the next few weeks when we face other tough opponents, like Florida State and Wake Forest, then Chuck may be able to stay in Raleigh. If he loses the Carolina game, though, I think his days might be numbered.
And what can I say about my Titans? Frankly, nothing good. Despite a good passing game today, they still lost to the Miami Dolphins. In week 1 they lost to the Jets, and last week they lost to the Chargers. Now I know how all those Tennessee Vols fans feel when they see Peyton Manning and the Colts beat the Titans -- I hate to see the Titans lose to the Chargers, but at least that puts a win in Phil Rivers's cap.
I worry about my Titans, but I will stand by them through thick and thin! Hell, I've been an NC State fan all my life, so I defy the very concept of a fairweather fan.
Win or lose, football season is really just a dalliance to keep me distracted until the important stuff starts -- basketball season! So I'll just keep ducking and clenching my gut until the roundball starts in a couple of months.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Friday, September 22, 2006
Ahh, youth
I decided to take the 173 Lakeview Express bus into the Michigan Avenue shopping district this evening after I finished at the lab. The bus was only about one-third full, almost evenly divided between solo travelers and others voyaging uptown in small groups.
Next to me was a group of guys, UC undergrads. I couldn't help but overhear most of their conversation as we traveled from the Reynolds Club to Michigan Avenue. It was not dissimilar to conversations I had when I was their age, with my friends, green behind the ears in our first year of college. I had to bite my tongue to keep from answering some questions that came up in their banter.
"Where is the theater district?" (Dearborn, near Washington)
"There's a movie theater near the campus, right?" (Depends on your definition of near.)
"Who's the guy who they think wrote all of Shakespeare's plays?" (Christopher Marlowe - couldn't remember that one until I passed by Marlowe at Chicago and Michigan.)
It can become really easy to wax nostalgic about your own college experience when you work on a university campus and find yourself interacting with, or even just passively observing, undergraduates. When I see these kids, and hear them talking and telling their stories, I am so happy for them and hope that they know what an incredible time this is in their lives.
But I don't for one minute hope to go back and relive those days.
As wonderful as college was, part of its charm and allure is its transience. In the early nineties I prayed to get from assignment to assignment. I spent barely a moment thinking about the future because I didn't have the time to spend on such a seemingly inconsequential task. Now I'm living in that future. A small sliver of it is the present, but most if it is now the past, yesterday just as sealed and unrecoverable as my first day of freshman year.
Truth be told, back then, when I was so focused on getting through the day, I never knew it could be this exciting living in the now. Sure, there are good days and bad, but I've accomplished so much I wanted to do. I cautiously feel sometimes that I can actually sit back and enjoy what life has brought, all the gifts I've been given.
Sometimes I even look forward to what surprises will unfold next.
Next to me was a group of guys, UC undergrads. I couldn't help but overhear most of their conversation as we traveled from the Reynolds Club to Michigan Avenue. It was not dissimilar to conversations I had when I was their age, with my friends, green behind the ears in our first year of college. I had to bite my tongue to keep from answering some questions that came up in their banter.
"Where is the theater district?" (Dearborn, near Washington)
"There's a movie theater near the campus, right?" (Depends on your definition of near.)
"Who's the guy who they think wrote all of Shakespeare's plays?" (Christopher Marlowe - couldn't remember that one until I passed by Marlowe at Chicago and Michigan.)
It can become really easy to wax nostalgic about your own college experience when you work on a university campus and find yourself interacting with, or even just passively observing, undergraduates. When I see these kids, and hear them talking and telling their stories, I am so happy for them and hope that they know what an incredible time this is in their lives.
But I don't for one minute hope to go back and relive those days.
As wonderful as college was, part of its charm and allure is its transience. In the early nineties I prayed to get from assignment to assignment. I spent barely a moment thinking about the future because I didn't have the time to spend on such a seemingly inconsequential task. Now I'm living in that future. A small sliver of it is the present, but most if it is now the past, yesterday just as sealed and unrecoverable as my first day of freshman year.
Truth be told, back then, when I was so focused on getting through the day, I never knew it could be this exciting living in the now. Sure, there are good days and bad, but I've accomplished so much I wanted to do. I cautiously feel sometimes that I can actually sit back and enjoy what life has brought, all the gifts I've been given.
Sometimes I even look forward to what surprises will unfold next.
Monday, September 18, 2006
Just a Few Observations
In the course of a week I pass by a lot of people. If I were to hazard a guess, I'd say I don't pay any particular attention to upwards of 75% of the people around me. The other 25% catch my attention for different reasons. I hardly ever pass by a cute guy without giving at least a sideways glance. Sometimes I'll see a particularly lovely woman and give her a good looking up and down.
Then there's that other 10% whom I must resist walking up to and offering a bit of advice. I resist because, frankly, it's just rude to approach perfect strangers and critique them. God knows I wouldn't want others to come up to me and offer me pointers on my hair or wardrobe on the occasional day when I'm not quite up to my best.
But some things are just too egregious not to elicit comment. These are the best gems.
1. A toupee is rarely a good idea. A mullet is rarely a good idea. A mullet toupee? You do the math.
(Seen on a UofC facilities worker.)
2. Capri pants are a bad idea for about 65% of women and, really, 100% of men. Why any man would purposely roll up the hems of his jeans to make them into ersatz denim capri pants I will never understand, even if he does have nice calves.
(Seen on a cute-ish guy with nice calves on the #55 bus.)
3. Ripped jeans are in. Tight jeans are in. Tight jeans with rips along the panty line are not in, nor should they ever be.
(Seen on a girl crossing the street in front of me outside my building.)
Then there's that other 10% whom I must resist walking up to and offering a bit of advice. I resist because, frankly, it's just rude to approach perfect strangers and critique them. God knows I wouldn't want others to come up to me and offer me pointers on my hair or wardrobe on the occasional day when I'm not quite up to my best.
But some things are just too egregious not to elicit comment. These are the best gems.
1. A toupee is rarely a good idea. A mullet is rarely a good idea. A mullet toupee? You do the math.
(Seen on a UofC facilities worker.)
2. Capri pants are a bad idea for about 65% of women and, really, 100% of men. Why any man would purposely roll up the hems of his jeans to make them into ersatz denim capri pants I will never understand, even if he does have nice calves.
(Seen on a cute-ish guy with nice calves on the #55 bus.)
3. Ripped jeans are in. Tight jeans are in. Tight jeans with rips along the panty line are not in, nor should they ever be.
(Seen on a girl crossing the street in front of me outside my building.)
Monday, September 11, 2006
Saving our Souls
I was standing in the bathroom of my house in Nashville, drying my hair -- oh, how long it's been since my hair has been so long that I had to blow it dry! I was listening to a horrible morning show on the radio, broadcast over the only station that the cheap radio I kept in the bathroom could receive clearly.
I was running uncharacteristically early that day. It was a Tuesday morning, and that meant lab meeting at nine o'clock -- sharp. I was only two or three days back into town, having returned from a trip to North Carolina. I had gone to my ten year high school reunion, and driven with my mother and younger niece to visit my father's sister in upstate New York.
The voice of one of the morning personalities emanating from the radio became different, more urgent. He said that a plane had collided with the World Trade Center building in New York. With each passing moment he shared more details, almost as soon as he got them, or so it seemed. Then, silence.
Turn off the radio, he said. Get to a television set or, failing that, turn the radio to a news station.
I ran into the living room and turned on the television. And I saw smoke billowing out of one of the World Trade Center buildings. I awoke my roommate whose bedroom door adjoined the living room. I grabbed my cell phone and called my friend Joel who, as far as I knew, was still in New York City and working downtown. I couldn't reach him and grew a bit panicked. About the time the plane hit the second tower, Joel called my cell phone. He had left the city a couple of weeks prior and returned to North Carolina; in our traveling about we had not kept up with each other in the previous few weeks. Reassured in the knowledge that no one I knew was anywhere near the scene of the tragedy occurring before my eyes, before the eyes of the nation and of the world, I forced myself to continue getting ready to leave for work.
During the drive to the lab I listened to the local NPR station, and heard about what happened at the Pentagon. At work we had our lab meeting, but none of us could focus on the task at hand. My boss assured us that there was nothing we could do, that we should get done what needed to get done that day and try not to think about the horror unfolding in the northeast. All day we tried to reach news websites -- CNN, the New York Times page, MSNBC -- all to no avail. We kept NPR playing all day, hoping to learn how this had happened, and who was taking responsibility, who would feel the full brute strength of a wronged United States of America marching in to avenge her innocent dead.
Ironically I had been in New York City over the Independence Day holiday just a few weeks prior. I had tickets to go to the observation deck at the World Trade Center, but decided not to go because of limited time. It will be there the next time I visit, I had reassured myself.
Since September 11, 2001, I have visited the site where the towers stood. I saw the movie World Trade Center on Labor Day, and was surprised that I was able to hold my emotions in check during and after the film -- just reading the review of United 93 in the New York Times a few monts earlier caused me to well up. I thought maybe, just maybe, I was emotionally ready to put this horrible event behind me. But I was wrong.
I have cried more times today than I can count -- during the singing of the national anthem this morning at the ceremonies at Ground Zero; as Dateline NBC was talking to survivors of United flight 93; as widows and widowers were speaking of their deceased spouses this morning.
But I know that my sadness now comes not only from the devastating tragedy of 9/11, but also from how badly President Bush and his administration have responded to 9/11, and how they have nearly exhausted every shred of goodwill and solidarity other nations expressed in the aftermath of the terror attacks. The President and his aides espouse the view that we must make America safer, and that secret CIA prisons, "alternative questioning methods" and the war in Iraq are all means towards that end.
Must making America safer necessarily require us, as a nation, to lose our souls?
Do we have to destroy everything that America stands for to keep Americans safe?
I pray not. Otherwise the nearly 3000 people who died that day, and the more than 2000 soldiers who have died in Iraq and Afghanistan, have all died in vain.
I was running uncharacteristically early that day. It was a Tuesday morning, and that meant lab meeting at nine o'clock -- sharp. I was only two or three days back into town, having returned from a trip to North Carolina. I had gone to my ten year high school reunion, and driven with my mother and younger niece to visit my father's sister in upstate New York.
The voice of one of the morning personalities emanating from the radio became different, more urgent. He said that a plane had collided with the World Trade Center building in New York. With each passing moment he shared more details, almost as soon as he got them, or so it seemed. Then, silence.
Turn off the radio, he said. Get to a television set or, failing that, turn the radio to a news station.
I ran into the living room and turned on the television. And I saw smoke billowing out of one of the World Trade Center buildings. I awoke my roommate whose bedroom door adjoined the living room. I grabbed my cell phone and called my friend Joel who, as far as I knew, was still in New York City and working downtown. I couldn't reach him and grew a bit panicked. About the time the plane hit the second tower, Joel called my cell phone. He had left the city a couple of weeks prior and returned to North Carolina; in our traveling about we had not kept up with each other in the previous few weeks. Reassured in the knowledge that no one I knew was anywhere near the scene of the tragedy occurring before my eyes, before the eyes of the nation and of the world, I forced myself to continue getting ready to leave for work.
During the drive to the lab I listened to the local NPR station, and heard about what happened at the Pentagon. At work we had our lab meeting, but none of us could focus on the task at hand. My boss assured us that there was nothing we could do, that we should get done what needed to get done that day and try not to think about the horror unfolding in the northeast. All day we tried to reach news websites -- CNN, the New York Times page, MSNBC -- all to no avail. We kept NPR playing all day, hoping to learn how this had happened, and who was taking responsibility, who would feel the full brute strength of a wronged United States of America marching in to avenge her innocent dead.
Ironically I had been in New York City over the Independence Day holiday just a few weeks prior. I had tickets to go to the observation deck at the World Trade Center, but decided not to go because of limited time. It will be there the next time I visit, I had reassured myself.
Since September 11, 2001, I have visited the site where the towers stood. I saw the movie World Trade Center on Labor Day, and was surprised that I was able to hold my emotions in check during and after the film -- just reading the review of United 93 in the New York Times a few monts earlier caused me to well up. I thought maybe, just maybe, I was emotionally ready to put this horrible event behind me. But I was wrong.
I have cried more times today than I can count -- during the singing of the national anthem this morning at the ceremonies at Ground Zero; as Dateline NBC was talking to survivors of United flight 93; as widows and widowers were speaking of their deceased spouses this morning.
But I know that my sadness now comes not only from the devastating tragedy of 9/11, but also from how badly President Bush and his administration have responded to 9/11, and how they have nearly exhausted every shred of goodwill and solidarity other nations expressed in the aftermath of the terror attacks. The President and his aides espouse the view that we must make America safer, and that secret CIA prisons, "alternative questioning methods" and the war in Iraq are all means towards that end.
Must making America safer necessarily require us, as a nation, to lose our souls?
Do we have to destroy everything that America stands for to keep Americans safe?
I pray not. Otherwise the nearly 3000 people who died that day, and the more than 2000 soldiers who have died in Iraq and Afghanistan, have all died in vain.
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