Thought for the Day: It's a Song by Coldplay
July 31, 2003
First things first:
We'll do the sports thing, then tell the story, since it's long and drawn out.
Tigers Incompetence Metrics as of July 31, 2003:
Detroit 28-77 .267 winning percentage (1.75 games ABOVE the Throneberry Line)
Detroit team's batting average: .233
Detroit opponent batting average: .275
Detroit's On-Base Percentage: .295
Complete lack of pride and professionalism shows through, Tigers lose to M's 13-3.
My assessment of yesterday's first inning:
Yesterday's mere Three Mile Island finally went Chernobyl.
We're #1, We're #1
"As their most hated opponents, Ohioans chose the University of Michigan (49%)"
Forgive me, I have a little tear. I am just so damn happy to read that. We're #1! We're #1.
Speaking of Ohio:
Clarett Fraught Watch: Continuing Schadenfreude Coverage
Clarett says he inflated value of stolen items
Yes, because the NCAA is really easy going about extra benefits.
Speaking of extra benefits:
Utah Basketball players received excessive meal money, school placed on three years probation.
This is my favorite part of this whole story because it's so insane
The report said Majerus told the NCAA he thought meals he bought for players at local restaurants were allowed because he lives in a hotel near the university. Coaches are allowed to host athletes for home meals.
Had the meals been held in Majerus' hotel suite, he said they would have been OK. Majerus described the meals more as meetings, when he would discuss personal matters, such as academics or an upcoming church mission, and give advice.
"I don't think anybody ever said we gained a competitive advantage because 'I had that hamburger with Majerus. Or in recruiting, somebody would say 'Hey, if I only become a Ute I'll be able to go to Crown Burger with Majerus,'" Majerus said.
The thing is, you know Rick Majerus, just by personality type alone, knows all of the best places in SLC to eat, so while perhaps not a competitive advantage, it certainly does raise the quality of life.
ESPN Page2's Lions Motto for 2003:
Detroit Lions: "New Coach. New Beginnings. New Horizons Of Unfulfillment And Dissatisfaction."
Wow, they hit it right on the head now, didn't they.
Recording Industry Legend Sam Phillips Dead at 80
I always liked Sam Phillips for this quote:
"I can walk to the door of Sun, spit in any direction and hit someone that I can make into a star." And given his obit, it doesn't seem like he was wrong.
Random Simpsons Quote:
LISA: "Only one person in a million would find that funny."
FRINK: "Yes, we call that the Dennis Miller ratio."
--They Saved Lisa's Brain
Today's Paragraph That Can Never Lead to Any Good:
"The afternoon kicked off on a low point for Timberlake when a concertgoer's sign questioning the singer's sexuality made it to the Jumbotrons for about 15 seconds."
Justin Timberlake Joins Stones At Toronto Benefit, Gets Pelted With Garbage
Way to go, T.O.!
Today's Installment of "I am shocked, Louie, just quite simply shocked!"
Alex Rodriguez is willing to consider being traded from the craptacular Rangers.
How big of you A-Rod.
Today's Bonus Installment of "I am shocked, Louie, just quite simply shocked!"
Notes: Neuheisel initially lied about gambling.
"Your winnings, sir."
(Somehow, this section of the blog is funnier when it's actually about gambling.)
Warning Sign
(Warning: The following contains emotional outpouring of a vainglorious, self-indulgent nature. Viewer discretion is advised. All people mentioned herein are fictional unless they are real. Goodness, I hope the comedy comes through in this thing.)
I don't like talking about my personal life on the blog. Well, that's not completely true. I don't like talking about my meaningful personal life on the blog. There have been far too many examples of me recounting what the hell has happened to me in the past hour, day, week, to honestly say that I don't like talking about my personal life here on TFTD, but it's interesting that this is how I thought of it.
Perhaps what I should say here instead is that I don't like talking about my love life here at TFTD. There are many many many reasons for this. Primarily, fear. I am a semi-public figure, and frankly, given the nature and the mindset of the people I work with, that would not be an outpouring of emotion as it would be ammunition against me. Call me paranoid if you want, but you never know where it's going to come from, whether it's one of those 35 bright eyed adolescents looking to emotionally kneecap you when they need to, or worse, one of your colleagues who thinks all is fair in not just love and war, but in life.
But that's not the ballgame either. I am still one of those individuals who thinks that discretion is the better part of valor, that personal business should remain personal, and that romance is not best suited for a public display. Hell, I wouldn't want anyone becoming so sick of me and my significant other that they were hoping that I would drink a glass of molten lead by accident just to get me to shut up. (Of course, that presumes that the glass could withstand the contents of the molten lead, but we're kind of getting off track here now, aren't we?)
I am pretty sure that if I were in some sitcom form of therapy at this point my therapist would either be slyly casting her eyes upon her Fossil or trying to figure out a Russian Pacific Seaport, 11 letters. If you have known me long enough to know me, you realize that the reason that I don't talk about my love life is that I don't have one. Not only do I not have one, I don't even have the vaguest notions of one.
Why is this, I often ponder, in those quiet moments that gnaw at your soul like a movie patron working on the leather straps of the restraints used to secure him for a test screening of
Jeepers Creepers 2, the new king of the sequel no one asked for. Part of it, I am convinced is personal perception. Despite being relatively popular among my peer groups in both high school and college, I was not the guy that girls dated. I was the guy that people counted on for stuff, I was most definitely
The Answer Guy (Tim, I know it's your title, but I was TAG of
Stevenson High School from 1994-1996 and now again, 2001- . I suspect that many of the people reading this are TAG for their circles of non-QB friends or their families.) I was many things. But, in
Friends parlance, I was the oft-elected Mayor of the Friend Zone. Hell, I was the
Richard J. Daley of the Friend Zone. Except no one was ever tear-gassed in the Friend Zone, though, on occasion, I did make some people cry over politics.) Oh, anyway, I was many things, but not the guy that girls dated. I don't think there is fundamentally anything wrong with being that guy, except you don't get a lot of dates. This can be really frustrating, because you look at your life and you say "Wait a second, people like me, I seem to have a terrific rapport with women!" (OK, you may not make a declarative statement of that nature, and if you do, well, here's a cookie.) And yet, there I was, Mr. Fall Back, Mr. Decode the Playbook, The Advance Scout, The Therapist. Again, not that I minded (or to this day, mind) playing these roles, for I think I have come to excel at them. It's just that, like an actor who has been typecast, every so often you want to break out of the roles that made people like you. The problem was and still is, in my case, that I was/am too afraid to go out and make my own personal personality version of
The Razor's Edge to break the mold. So, I was still the good guy, I was still the likable guy once you got to know me and realized that the socially awkward parts were harmless.
I used to complain to my female friends that would listen, usually after the finished complaining about what an ass their current beau was, that all of these years of helping people through their relationship nightmares made me a great catch because I knew all of the things not to do in a relationship. I was like the football player that has tremendous collegiate experience, has
Mel Kiper, Jr. calling him one of the smartest players on the board, blowing the Wonderlic out of the water, but due to some flaw that no one can quite diagnose, I was falling down the draft board like faster than Ryan O'Brien during the 2000 draft. You just have to hope that some team takes a chance on you.
I use the football metaphor because it was football that drew me into my only relationship of any discernible length. So many of you who will take the time and effort and electrons to read this know the whole story of that period that I feel no need to rehash it here, but it was among the happiest times of my life, bar none. (Ironically, it was also one of the worst periods of my life scholastically. It's not her fault, I was clearly drowning in a sea of my own personal apathy. It's pure coincidence, not causation. But when you believe in instant karma and you've never been in anything like this before, it can scare the hell out of you.) But what I took away from that time, among a multitude of other things, is that you can't study for a relationship, because just when you think you have everything figured out and you intellectually have it down to a science, you do something and it's the butterfly effect.
That was May of 2000. Since that time, I have had a grand total of one date, which was a miserable failure. How bad was it? I can tell you that
Kate Beckinsale,
Jennifer Garner, and
Sara Rue all played nurses in
Pearl Harbor, which was the movie we went to see. I can tell you that the Lakers looked absolutely invincible in Game 3 of the Western Conference Finals against San Antonio. I can tell you that the Firebirds of Indiana beat the Detroit Fury in a very close Arena Football game. I can tell you all of these things, but I can't even remember the girl's name, that's how poorly it went. But it's not like I went
Derek Bell on dating because this date went so poorly, it's more that no opportunity has since presented itself.
Now, there are a lot of factors in play here. However, let me make one thing perfectly clear. In no way shape or form do I think that I deserve a girlfriend. So many people act like they are entitled to dating happiness, and I mean, on some level, we all are entitled to the happiness that we work to create for ourselves. I am, however, under the insane delusion (as opposed to the sane delusion) that fate is conspiring against me. It just seems like it is one relationship karma kick in the groin, followed by date fate shoving my face into the ground and asking me how it tastes. But I suppose this is what happens when you realize that it does seem strange that so many of the guys I know who are about my age are still single and unattached (as opposed to single and at least dating someone with a certain frequency) and almost all of the females I know my age are in relationships or even married.
So, why I am still single? From what I have gathered from those who have tried to reassure me over the years, I am many of the things that women look for in a guy. Hell, I am not even THAT unattractive. So, why then, am I one of the few guys my age who couldn't write emo songs for a lack of reference material?? Well, I am anti-social. Not like "pull out my shotgun and yell 'get off my property'" anti-social, but clearly I don't like going out to places where you can meet people. I also have serious issues when I do go out to bars and things of similar ilk. Whether it's a friend getting doused in puke on our way out the door (I can still see that night in early April 2000 in slow motion.) or that most of the girls who go out dress like they are auditioning for
Girls Gone Wild (then again, it was a college town bar, so really, I don't know, maybe they were.) What I do know is that I don't do well when you have to be out and you can't talk to people and people are drinking because I don't like to drink. I don't like to drink for the simple reasons that I have never truly cottoned to the taste of beer and I have a completely insane fear of being out of control or exercising poor judgment at any point in my life. If I make a bad choice, I want to know I did it because I was stupid, not because I was drunk. It's like some form of ownership of foolish decisions, but there it is. But of course, it's not like you have to drink when you go out, but if you don't, you always get the stink eye from people, like either you have a problem with drinking (or had a problem) or you're a Mormon (which happens quite a bit in Livonia), or you're the poor bastard who got stuck being the designated driver (this does, however, make for a convenient out if the need arises. And you can usually "drink" for free, since you're acting responsible. I basically had all the Coke I wanted in the bars of Ann Arbor for that one year I could get into bars legally because I was the DD, despite my car being conveniently parked back in Livonia.) Wait, there was a point to this story…
Oh yeah, so I don't do well when I go out, because it takes me out of my game plan that allows me to play to my strengths, namely wit, charm, and self-deprecation. (Self-deprecation, by the way, like the West Coast Offense, is the newest feature of the Barker playbook. Wit and charm are the draw play and screen pass of the Barker offense. Like Michigan, they have been in the playbook since caveman times, when Cro-Magnon man made cave paintings of X's and O's and an arrow going through the middle.) And dang it, I need those three plays! If I want anything to work, I have to dance with the horse that brung me until it don't ride no more. (At least I hope that is the metaphor. I really hope it isn't "dance with the whores that brung me," because that's just really disturbing then.) But going to a bar is like putting eight men in the box against me. While my receivers may be great on possession routes, they can't get open downfield to save their lives. Even if they did somehow manage to beat the coverage, I don't have the arm to get the ball down there. So, you can see where the problem lies.
Secondly, I have exceedingly high standards. In many ways, this is like most Michigan football fans. We appreciate the fact that we have been blessed in the past with tremendous teams, but we're never quite satisfied; because, so often, we would get to the bowl game, only to have something invariably go wrong. (Actually, this is far less true of the Carr era than it was of the Schembechler era. By the way, Lloyd Carr is living proof that you don't want to be the guy that follows the legend, you want to be the guy who follows the guy who followed the legend. I am sure there are others, but Lloyd is my go to on that one for the QED of that theory.) Oh, right, high standards. I have come to realize that my lack of dating success comes from the fact that I will not just settle for anything, that a woman I would date has to be possessed of certain qualities, and lacking those, it's harder to convince me that it's worth it. Now, there have been those that have suggested to me that this is a cop out because it's not like there is a stream of women who have been lining up to date me and I have been rejecting them all like some insane casting director yelling "NEXT!" at these suitors. And these people may very well have a good point. But I do think that mentally, I narrow the number of places that I would go looking for potential mates. (By the way, this is as good a place as any, in talking about looking for things in a significant other, to slip in my theory that if you're a guy who likes all sports pretty much evenly, look for a woman who already likes baseball. Granted, you're not going to find very many who know it better than most Americans,
like this one, but I am of the firm belief that baseball is the best baseline for a sports based relationship, because it's the hardest to convince someone to see the beauty of the game. Hockey is elegant, if violent (and in Michigan, it's really not that hard to talk a woman into being a hockey fan, at least from what I have gathered), Football is less of a time commitment, and basketball, OK, I can't fully explain the basketball thing, but I also really don't care, because basketball, while a great sport, is in seventh place on my list. NHL, College Football, NFL, MLB, College Hockey, Soccer, NBA Hoops, Open Wheel Racing, College Hoops, Shurling. No, that's not a typo.
Thirdly, it is patently clear to me now that I wasted my life in college. Well, OK, that's not completely true, I did win three national titles and a car during my college years, but for some strange reason, success in trivia based competition does not bring in the women like you think it would (well, actually, it
does bring in the women like you think it would in the sense that it doesn't, which is what you would expect if you have enough experience around trivia competition.) But I spent four years at a school of 37,000 people my age, half or better of which were female, some of whom were single, many of whom were likely to have Michigan degrees eventually, which would get rid a lot of the standards issues. The fact that my only relationship in college involved me "dating up" (and out of my time zone) just further reinforces my secondly while making me wonder how in the heck I couldn't find someone in the friendly confines of Ann Arbor who thought I was at least somewhat interesting. I also would have been just as likely to find a Tigers fan on campus, which would be helpful. I wasted my life at Michigan in many regards, but that is a different rant for a different day.
So, I have been trying to make up for my lack of success through the modern technology, the Yahoo Personal and the Match.com Personal. And I have come to a couple of very disturbing realizations as I look through this. For starters, my search patterns are exceedingly psychotic. Either that or there just aren't that many redheads living in a fifteen mile radius of my home ZIP code with a delta three age variant from myself who don't have kids, who are Christian/Jewish/Buddhist, but are not exceedingly religious, who don't smoke or drink heavily, and who...OK, see, I do have very particular tastes, but hey, it's my search and you might as well start narrow and go wide. Secondly, I think that the problem facing many of the female ad placers is that they all seem to want outdoorsy guys. I am not an expert, but is an Internet based personals site the really your most likely shot to meet outdoorsy guys? I mean, I would think going hiking would be a much better way to meet outdoorsy guys. Then again, I could be deeply cynical about this since the outdoors and I are clearly sworn enemies. That and natural light. (No, not the beer, everyone is the sworn enemy of Natural Light, well, except
Larry Eustachy.) It's just frustrating to me, because in essence, all I really want in a relationship is a smart, funny, single woman about my age who likes sports and lives in the Detroit area, and doesn't seem to hate me for some reason. This doesn't seem like it's a tall order, and yet I have just spent the last 3,000 words (yes, it is exactly 3,000 words where I said that, thank you word count) going off on various tangents as to how that woman does not seem to be out there. Some would claim I am not looking hard enough, but even if that's true, it's not like I am a hermit and you need a Sherpa to gain access the secret lair of Barker. I don't expect a relationship is just going to fall into my lap, but I suppose as General Patton was fond of saying "Fortuna Favet Fortibus." (I do know people who actually believe that this phrase is mistaken, that it is instead it should be "Fortuna Favet Rota." Yes, much like Aaron Sorkin, when I start running out of material at the end of something, I just start ranting in Latin. Because as we all know, "If you can't impress them with your ability, dazzle them with BS." I sadly do not know enough Latin to translate that one. (Fortunately, Victoria does and it's roughly "Si non potes eos commonere cum nitore, inde eos confunde cum stercore bovum.") Regardless, that should clearly be my motto. Because that just what I need, some form of psychotic Latin motto, like "Oderint dum metuant", which I put up in my classroom last year, right next to "
Nothing Can Kill the Grimace.") Oh, right, let's wrap this up.
But, then again, is being single the worst thing in the world? Certainly, there are a lot of advantages to it, mostly having to do with being the captain of one's own destiny and the decider, for the most part, of one's own time. But, the grass is always greener on the other side, the neighbor's got a new car that you wanna drive...(oops, sorry, slipped into a Travis song there,) and I have done the single thing for almost a decade now (if we look back from the start of my sophomore year of high school until now, yeah, actually, it will be a decade, less four months.) and I just think it's time for a change. At the very worst, I might actually understand what the hell Chris Carraba is singing about. Wait, I am not sure that is a good thing.
That's all for today, until tomorrow,
I am Craig Barker, very very tired.
