January 25, 2008
For whatever reason people always assume that I am good at things. I’m not sure why, but I think it may have something to do with the button down shirts. Whatever the truth behind that matter may be I feel like my shirt was partially responsible for a request I had in high school to join the dive team. My dislike for the water and complete inability to dive was, however, massively out weighed by the simple fact that I was asked to join the dive team by a pretty girl…. because that’s all there were. There was no one on the men’s team, just lots and lots of pretty girls (there needed to be at least one member on each gender team for anyone to be allowed to compete). For this reason and this reason only when I was asked if I could represent the men’s dive team I said absolutely. The subject of prior experience didn’t even come up, and because of this I assumed that they knew, at least to a degree, that I was almost completely incompetent. This was actually not the case.
I showed up the first day in a tie-die bathing suit expecting to see girls in swim suits, but oddly everyone was in a wet suit. Hhhmmm…. I called that strike one. Plus it made me look like a moron. Anyway, all of the girls were stretching so I figured I’d hop to that. I didn’t really know anyone so I threw down my towel and went it alone. As and eight-year veteran of Tae Kwon Do I was actually quite a bit more flexible than most of the girls there. But not wanting to intimidate anyone with my staggeringly sexy stretches I took it easy. After about ten minutes of stretch time the coach came in and introduced herself. I was the only new team member, and at this point really was quite literally the odd-man-out.
The coach asked us all to line up at the board (which didn’t look too high), and start warming up with a basic dive. I discretely filed in dead last, figuring that I would examine people’s technique and be three quarters Olympian by the time I had to perform. The first person went, and I took in each detail. It replayed it in my mind, imagining my self doing it. It didn’t seem to be that hard. Anyway, one by one each girl performed a beautiful looking dive directly into the pool. I felt oddly calm. I felt that way until the person in front of me was preparing to jump and I realized something. In all my life and all my visits to the pool I had never actually jumped off of a diving board before (I’m really more of a steps guy). This brought me in to a mild panic, but I quickly pushed all thoughts of doubt out of my head. I told myself that I had spent my entire life training for Tae Kwon Do competitions, and this couldn’t be any more difficult than any jumping spinning kick. No big deal. The girl in front of me did her thing and dove beautifully into the water with hardly a splash. Tough act to follow, but I wasn’t too worried. I got up on the board and the coach made some comment about oh it’s the new boys turn or something, I wasn’t really listening. I get very focused. I looked down and suddenly realized how far off the water I was. You never realize how high five feet is until you’re standing precisely that vertical distance above one of your greatest fears (water). Ok, brief mental replay. Jumpy-hop thing takes you to end of board, single jump in place, and dive into water. Presto. Everyone’s impressed, mission accomplished. Unfortunately my mind has always been slightly more optimistic than reality and this was no exception. I took a deep breath and performed the jumpy hop thing which took me to the end of the board (later I learned that’s referred to as an ‘approach’), did one big jump and the end of the board and soared into the air. I remember my first thought when I entered the painfully icy depths of that dark blue water was ‘oh my god this is why everyone’s wearing a wetsuit’. Too late now. I fiercely paddled towards the surface and soon I emerged victorious. That was, at least, until I looked at the coach, my teeth fiercely chattering. I’ll never forget what she said to me.
“Was that a joke?”
Let’s just say I was no longer riding that high horse. Long story short I was demoted to the side of the pool to practice leaning into the water head first, and ended up staying there all semester. I could never put my head in first, I always looked up at the last second. Anyway, as far as competition was concerned I merely had to jump off of the board to have “represented” the men’s team at meets, so I would generally show up, do my stretches, jump in feet first, receive and extremely low score and then go to karate. Also, since I was the only member of the men’s team the title of men’s varsity captain did make it onto my transcript and very likely did get me into college. Not that it really ended up mattering, though, since a year later I transferred to community college. I really dislike school. And water.
In school I heard that Global Warming was bad. People who drove their kids to school in van’s became members of the Nazi party and for no apparent reason started to systematically slaughter Jews. People who drove SUV’s always didn’t need them and deserved to be eternally punished by John Kerry. This is all because of the devastatingly negative effects that vehicles such as these are having on our not-so-green-Earth’s environment. Ideally we would save the earth by trading in our sport utility vehicles for sport performance motorcycles, but since no teenagers parents will buy them one, and by the time these kids feel reckless enough to want one again they are having what is best known as a ‘mid-life crises’ and their wives say no because ‘now we have johnny.’ So that’s out. But now we are faced with one very big, large, huge, gargantuan conundrum. If we aren’t allowed to have a motorcycle, how do we save the planet? Since Captain Planet only exists on that television show, we are going to need to solve this one on our own. But thankfully, it didn’t actually come to that, because Toyota invented the Prius. I can’t see it taking more than a few hundred years for the new new new testament to have finally replaced Jesus with a Sage Green Prius. Let’s make this happen people. Give Toyota your money and pretty soon no one will know anything about Jesus. Hopefully, if we all begin driving these gas efficient vehicles we will be able to avert global warming and save the world. Well let me tell you something. I’ve spent the better part of the day sweeping water out of my garage with a broom. It is cold where I live, wet, and has been for days and so yahoo weather tells me it will stay that way for some time. And I live in California. Personally I don’t think global warming is trying hard enough to warrant all this fuss. I’ll start to worry If I ever do actually start tanning during summer. But, for the time being at least, I think global warming could really step it up a notch. Right now I’m wet and pretty cold. I mean, my gas fireplace is nice, but do I really want to sit in front of it forever? If the average annual temperature ever soars above seventy five degrees then I’ll start to worry. Anyway, unless my eggs are cooking themselves in the fridge, I’m really not concerned. I’m going to go drive my convertible around now and empty some aerosol cans into our atmosphere because it sounds to me like the thinner the o-zone layer gets the more slices of heaven fall down to earth.
I was in the Verizon Wireless store the other day doing god knows what when I was approached by a salesman. We started talking, and he asked me if I had a text messaging plan for my phone. I said I didn’t. He gave me a look of disgust, one so intense that personally I would only give to people who molest children, or cut in line at starbucks before seven am. It was enough to get me to listen to what he had to say, and before he had finished speaking I had signed a new form to tack on five dollars per month to my phone bill for unlimited text messaging. Incidentally because of that I am paying about two dollars per month less than before, because I was charged for texts that I received and never replied to. The irony of saving money while signing a contract to pay more. Well, someone was smart enough to put me in that position, and I guess I’m dumb enough to pay for it. Shoulda gone to college. So anyway I said yes, I’ll purchase the texting plan. And purchase I did. And as soon as I did I was overcome with a flood of emotion and excitement. I could finally be one of those people that casually pulls out their phone, flips it open, looks at the screen, goes click clack click, flips it shut, and goes about doing whatever it is that cool people do. Or, on the flip side, I was just as excited to try out being one of those people that gets a text message, lets out an unnecessarily long and overly-dramatic sigh, as if to say, ‘I’m so popular that anyone who wants to talk to me is annoying,’ goes click clack click, flips their phone shut, and goes about their day. I didn’t even want it for the communication value; I just wanted to look cool. However, I discovered something about my image of nirvana when I actually tried to send a message. The keyboard. Those people who really tear-it-up on that keyboard must be like superman’s cousins or something, but unfortunately for me I’d discovered my own personal kryptonite. I mean, I graduated high school. That doesn’t necessarily make me capable of more than, let’s say, a job in retail, and spell-check reminds me of the gapingly large holes in my impressively small net of intelligence on an almost every-other-word basis, but I never thought it would make me unable of being cool enough to text. It would take me like 2 minutes to type ‘hey’ to someone, and like eighteen seconds later war and f*ing peace would pop up on my 1/2 inch cell phone screen.
Now every time I go to text message someone I just get depressed because of my own shortcomings. I think I’m going to need one of those blackberry things with the full sized keyboards. There goes the man again, f*ing me penniless. Text plan, no problem. New phone? Sure!
Ok, i’m going to be honest here. I wanted to call this blog Without Reason, but as it happens the name has been taken since early January 2003, and not a post has been made since. Thanks douche bag. Anyway, I wanted to call it Without Reason because I am young, naive, and cannot pretend to understand much, even with an illustrious high school education. But, as that is not possible, I have named it Not Without Reason, so that’s just something i’m going to have to live with.
Some people seem to have very high standards for their blogs. They talk about books, movies, businesses, some have themes, some tell stories. People do research for them and work hard at making intelligent, well written tales. I will actually be doing none of these things. This blog will talk about whatever I want to talk about, whenever I want to talk about it. Subjects that my come up frequently would be my hair (in all it’s splendor and glory), women (yes, bitches be crazy), and life (the board game). Now, i’m also not saying that I will definitely not talk about things like books and movies, i’m just saying i’m not putting the bar that high. i’m starting with my hair and going from there.