Dead Last to Dead First
Honestly I come in here with zero outline or zero idea of what I'm going to say, and while the open window is blank, I just go for it.
I'm starting to get really excited for the Blues and want to see them win the Stanley. Did you know they've never won a Stanley? And only one of the kids on that team has even gotten to a Playoff before? And that their goaltender is a ROOKIE, and that during the season they were DEAD LAST?
Their crowd, being from St. Louis music city, COOS. They sing along to the vintage organ in enterprise center.
There is nothing not completely cool about this whole organization this year.
They're my pick for Stanley. Last time they were this far, FORTY NINE YEARS ago, they also played the Bruins. And while I love the graceful plays from Marchand and Bergeron and the whole Boston crew, I'm really rooting for the Blues. (STL has totally drowned SJS, probably another factor that wins my loyalty. I think all VGK fans are secretly rooting STL this year.)
It's going to be a nail biter, I think. Boston is really, really good.
And I think STL only beat the shit out of the Sharks because SJS was down 3 really good players, which totally shattered SJS' chemistry. Sharks were a very pheromonal team. I'll explain that in a different message. This was just an aside I added in later as I was walking away from the computer.
Rubbed in my face in the local news lately is about Jeopardy James Holzhauer, who is a professional sports bettor from my town, who holds record for the second most Jeopardy win streak and second most earnings streak, second to a guy who achieved this in 3x more time than him. JJ is obvs going to go on to be reigning champ on all this. He says his secret is commanding the buzzer. And yes, I signed up for the thing that generates the paywall. This was a good read. (And a good app!)
So seeing James Holzhauer's ability to turn betting into a legit personal franchise has me kind of wanting to put a few points in for the playoffs. I'd limit it to trainer's “chump change”, but I think it'd be fun. Money is just points on a scoreboard, anyway. Maybe next year hockey will be one of those hobbies I have accidentally monetized... which seals it as a legit hobby, since all my legit hobbies are monetized, and all my jobs are legit hobbies.
I got to thinking about this whole world of white guys playing sports, and how dominant a career and influence on the American economy it is.
How Greco-Roman it is.
To be whiling away on games and spectacles while there's crop failures and pressing problems in our reality.
That these ubermen spend every waking moment preparing for their spotlight hours. Grinding grinding grinding on machines purpose built for the long slog.
The billions of dollars exchanged daily in the form of merchandise, bets, tickets, transportation to/from, billable hours diverted talking about events...
And like in Greece, the athletes go on to be part of the peri-elite. A certain rung of the pyramid.
Anyway. I'm just staring out the rain pattered window thinking about this.
I would like to sharpen my mathmind. New hobby time. Probably something I can partake in with my eldest, since we stumbled upon the greatest new math teacher... God I wish I knew this guy before I ever learned arithmetic! Everything that took me years to practice he's turned into an amazingly shortcutted body trick. Embodied/visual math is stunning!
Gotta run. Meds, writing, stretching... all lay out in front of me today.
So there's this problem I have in one of my jobs, where ultimately the answer is calling a supplier in France and getting a new part, but this is something I've been slacking off on. Instead, I've added up to 3-5 minutes per piece on crafting these widgets because I have thousands of American/Chinese parts I “think” I have to exhaust. But the fucking real story is... I can just get my FUNCTIONING part from France, spend 10 seconds on the assembly, and SELL the American/Chinese parts on Amazon, netting me more time AND money.
I think once the playoffs are done, my motivation to do this will skyrocket, because one of the things that gets me into the office every day to crank out more widgets is the warm television screen next to my desk and the 3 hour hockey game. I bang away at widget after widget, popping my head up when the CROWD tells me something COOL is about to happen.
They're psychically wired to the beat of the puck, so their collective anthill sounds are the thing that announce the actual fucking intensity of what's happening.
It's a whole different feeling being a fan to a player. When I played in front of big crowds I didn't even notice the fucking crowds were there until the end! As a fan, I'm just one invisible component of a chortling positive mass that spikes and flows along with pheromone/adrenaline spikes and flows, amplifying the spikes and flows. Elevating. It's cool. Idk.
Anyway, once I'm done being part of the active trance, I'll rally hard to get this new French assembly flown in so I can increase my efficiency, freeing up time to work on my slapshot or something, so I can play hockey with the boys during the offseason, in a beer league that NO ONE will watch, and will be so much fun that someone will have to pry bodies off ice.
So yeah, now I'm done. Stomach is grumbling, back needs a stretch, and rain is starting to creep through my windowsills.
Another day in, Paradise
— .:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:..:~:. published not proofread. #NeverLookBackspace! Words, Ideas, Magic copyrighted by Zem in Paradise. this is confidential communication. Protected by US and International law.