Redemption, Thy Name is N-I-Shoe

Young Girl: ...and then Mommy kissed Daddy, and the angel told the stork, and the stork flew down from heaven, and put the diamond in the cabbage patch, and the diamond turned into a baby!
Pugsley: Our parents are having a baby too.
Wednesday: They had sex.
-Addams Family Values, 1993

And with that, your daily quotation from the quote-nation, this here edition of the blog begins. As always, I'm Jake, this is my place, come on in. Just don't put your feet up anywhere. Especially not there! (CRASH!) I warned you. Okay, get out.

First order of business, of course, is that I'm working in the cluster (or clustaaahh for the truly initiated), which is always good because it means I may actually make some money this summer as opposed to pissing it all away on useless frivolities like you know, food and gasoline. The bad news is that there are like 27,000 people in here right now and they are making me jittery. I feel like they're going to rise as one and slay me at any moment. Especially that sour-faced girl in the pink who keeps refilling the printer trays on her own. That's my job, you triflin' ho! And I know I've only worked here twice, but I swear if one more person comes up to me asking "how do I print?" and I have to show them the log in and print system, I'm going to rend life from my earthly body. How so many people who have never used the ND computer clusters before could be in an ND cluster all at one time every time I work is beyond me. But more are leaving now and thus my heart rate is slowing. Only an hour left before a blessed change of venue and perhaps some solace. On to happier matters.

Namely, what I did with my weekend. One word, folks: Aiea. And oh, what a glorious time we had. I would just like to take this opportunity to thank my lovely girlfriend for coming and brightening my life for those 3 sweet, sweet days like she did. Especially because she went to the considerable trouble of driving all the way down from Lansing by herself in her mother's minivan. Special props go out to Mama Sauer for allowing her to do so, but man was that a gesture and a half. I really didn't deserve such kindness. Though Aiea contends that we are losers, I actually relish the fact that we didn't do much of anything all weekend and still had a great time. We didn't have to in my book; there was nothing else I would have rather done than listen to showtunes, watch movies and gulp down Hawaiian Punch like a camel. And in our defense, it was really effing hot in South Bend the whole time, and nowhere could we lay our heads where air conditioning flowed. We're talking heat indexes of well over 100 here. Like swampy-ass Everglades weather. So we had an excuse to lay around and be inactive: it was impossible to do anything else. I'd especially like to thank Anna for putting me and Aiea up all weekend. She was the consumate hostess and I know it's not easy to watch me be all lovey-duvey with anyone, even if they are as darned cute as Aiea is. So much love, Anna Banana. Don't worry, you'll find you a man soon enough. The only drawback to the weekend was that it had to end. Aiea and I have way too much fun together to be apart for as long as we are. But I believe absence makes the heart grow fonder, and I'll be returning the favor and going up to Lansing in two weeks, so all hope is not lost. I just hope she sticks with me long enough to meet my parents so I can talk her through the Billy and Dorothy experience. Don't worry, hon, they'll love you, they may just put their feet in their mouths quite a few times before letting you know that.

Speaking of dear old Dad and...Dad's wife, I just received some news on the home front that completes what must have been a tumultuous weekend in D-Town. Very few people know this, because I haven't been allowed to talk about it, but my mother has been going through a time of career transition. In what can best be described as an unfortunate consequence of budget problems, my mom's boss at St. Mary's School in Sycamore informed her earlier this spring that next school year she would only be invited back to teach in a half-time position. The long and short of it is that the school is controlled by the Catholic Diocese of Rockford, and all over this area churches and schools have been feeling the pinch. It came down to a choice between Mom and the school's kindergarten teacher, and my mom was chosen to be demoted despite having a longer tenure than the other teacher. It was probably because her boss thought she would take the news better than the other woman, but the final result was that my mom's self-confidence took a pretty heavy blow. Mom had this job for about 5 years and it has had its ups and downs. But after about 10 years of unrewarding positions before this one, she was just starting to feel like she was establishing herself and really doing some good in this post. This is really important to my mom, who is, no b.s., the kindest and most loving person you ever want to meet. She teaches for the same reason she loves mothering me so much; she loves children, she loves educating, and she loves giving of herself to see others succeed. Though she has had some trouble doing some of the things she's been asked to do and had a lot on her plate, Mom accomplished a lot at St. Mary's especially in building their 7th and 8th grade program from the ground up. She and her students have been in the local paper for their good deeds and achievements many times, and every student she's had has loved her. But politics are politics, and all things considered I felt that leaving St. Mary's might be a good thing, because Mom's boss tends to drive her absolutely bonkers.

Actually, Mom would have accepted the half-time job except that I'm still trying to finish college, and thus there is no way that we can all get by without her having a full-time job (aren't I just a lovely little chink in the armor?). This is the ugly side of the American educational system, folks. Education is the most important thing we can give to our children, but it costs a fortune to give it to them. And the sickest irony is that primary school educators are not rewarded nearly as richly as they should be for the work they do to prepare young people for college, thus they get squeezed as much as anyone when they want their kids to have higher learning. I only whine because you'll never hear Mom or Dad doing so, and I think somebody ought to. I tell you, that is the one and only reason I would ever go into politics, to straighten out the ass backwards relationship between money and education. But I digress. The point is, Mom has been slugging through the arduous task of searching for another job for the last couple of months while at the same time finishing her tenure at St. Mary's. Needless to say, it's been a big stressor for us all. Mom was less than enthusiastic about the whole process, and while I can't blame her (she had a job she liked, and she didn't see any reason why she should have to search for another), it did disturb me a bit to see where I get some of my anxiety with trying new things and taking on difficult tasks. Maybe that's why I got so frustrated with her when she told me how slow it was all going. That she didn't deserve, and I am sorry because I'm sure she was getting it from my dad at the same time and it wasn't helping anything. But I'd like to think I really did help motivate her, especially when I used my extensive Microsoft Word wizardry to make her a spiffy new resume. Wasn't a big deal at all to me, took me about 20 minutes, but to her it was, so I hope she knows how glad I was to do it.

The happy ending is that Mom got one of the first jobs she applied for, and it became official today. Salvation came from a likely suspect, that of Mom and Dad's alma mater of Northern Illinois University. Just one more reason that although I never even attended a class there, I will always love NIU like it was my own school, no matter how much disrespect it gets here at Notre Dame ("NIU? More like, N-I-Shoe!"). A former professor of Mom's put an ad in the classifieds for a position in coordinating student teachers for the education college. A resume, some recommendations, an interview and a tortuous two weeks of waiting later, they called to tell her she got the job. Mom had to feel like Shaq going to Miami and winning without Kobe getting back on her feet so fast. I'm interested in how Mom will do with this new position. It will be her first time ever working in something other than a classroom teaching setting. She won't work with young students but rather future teachers, and I hope that she can handle the transition without slipping up and talking to them like they're 12 years old. If anything, I pray her complex and intellectually challenging relationship with me has prepared her for what she's about to begin. Honestly, I think this change will be great for her, and as long as she keeps an open mind and her wits about her, she will do fine. I know because every friend I've ever had loves my mother. And I tend to run with a tough crowd, so she must be doing something right. If you have any room left on your list, please thank God in your prayers for the blessing he bestowed on my family today. The only problem now is that her birthday is Monday; how am I gonna top something like this for a present?

Speaking of prayers, the other reason this news couldn't have come at a better time is that my extended family suffered a great tragedy this weekend. My aunt Bridget, a twin and one of the youngest of my mother's 13 siblings, lost her daughter on Sunday. Her name was Cleo, and she arrived four months premature. She lived for about 15 minutes, just long enough for both Bridget and her husband John to hold her and the nurse to baptize her. My mom was especially broken up when she told me on Sunday night, because she and Dad had gone to visit Bridget and John just last weekend. Not only that, but she knows what it is like to lose a baby, and I don't think she's ever fully recovered from the passing of my unborn brother and sister, so she was really aching for good news. Right now my heart goes out to Mom, Aunt Bridge and little cuz Cleo. To paraphrase Elton John, I would've liked to have known you, but you were just a kid. Your candle burned out long before your memory ever will. You were loved and you will be loved very much forever. I can't wait to see you in Heaven someday and talk about how crazy our family is. If you're reading this, I ask that you take a moment to pray, as I do now while writing it...



"Llllllllllet's get ready to ramblllllllllllllleeeeee!" (quick thoughts comin'):

-I was apart from cable all weekend and thus did not see any of this year's second Crosstown Classic series. Sacrilege, I know, but I was busy. All things considered, I'm happy with the outcome. The Cubs could've used a sweep, but that just doesn't happen when the North Siders and South Siders hook up. The return of Mark Prior was very promising, and hey, Corey Patterson did something right for a change. Good, I say, every home run makes him more attractive trade bait. Now all we need to do is get the All-Star weekend foolishness out of the way and the White Sox can focus on making their first serious World Series push that I can remember. I think all the pieces are already in place, and there's still time for Kenny Williams to shore up the pitching staff and GET RID OF EFFING JOE CREDE, ALREADY!!! C'mon!

-Hot Shots Golf Fore! for PS2 is one of the most addictive, engaging games ever created. No joke, even if you don't like golf at all this game has something for you, and that, Gabe Torres, is why it is just as good as any Tiger Woods game. Plus it's much easier to play while being just difficult enough to master. Not to mention it has the best audio/visual effects (the ping of the 10 ton hammer driver, the onomatopoeias when the ball hits things, blue flame!), supporting characters (nothing beats a blue kerchief-wearing dog as a caddie or when Greg says "Balls!" when you hit in the sand) and secret characters (Jak and Ratchet, OMG!) in any sports game on the market. An easy buy for anyone on the market for a great game you can pick up and play any time or keep playing forever without getting bored.

-Martin's is the best supermarket ever. Not only do they have sales on, well, everything, they also have the best selection of any food mart in the known universe. Fresh fried chicken every day, lobsters in the tank, a full deli restaurant in the store, and Mondo on sale for 99 cents! If it was Squeez-It or Kool-Aid Bursts instead of Mondo, I think I would worship Martin's like a pagan god.

-Batman Begins is everything I hoped for and more. Believe the hype, it is one of if not the best superhero movie ever made. It does appropriate justice to a character and a franchise that had been brutally mistreated. In fact, seeing this movie just reinforces how utterly horrible the last movie (Batman and Robin) really was. Only the original Batman from 1989 compares to this release, and that's because Jack Nicholson as the Joker was the greatest villain ever. But this movie was rock solid top to bottom. All the performances were spot-on and very enjoyable; I even caught myself admiring Katie Holmes as the strong but not nymphomaniacal love interest, a first for the series. What made her role effective was the same thing that made the whole movie work: believability. Even though it is pure fantasy goodness, there was not one thing that happened in this movie that I didn't buy happening in reality. The stripped-down visual style and sparing use of CGI went a long way toward reinforcing this effect, and the down-to-earth characters brought it home. No more cartoon characters spouting awful puns (I'm looking at you, Arnold) and no more nipples in the Batsuit made for a more mature and relatable film that thrills, amuses and even tugs on the heartstrings. I would still recommend the original Batman TV series over this for little kids, but young adults and anyone older will love this film. Only complaint: the editing in the fight scenes was too frenetic and I often couldn't tell what the hell was going on. It was really cool in the sequence where Bats takes out Falcone's thugs because it brought the viewer in to the idea that he was striking and disappearing, keeping the crooks disoriented and scared. Other than that, it was just hard to keep up. Oh well, guess I'll just have to see it again until I get it all.

-The WWE draft is over, and the landscape certainly has changed. I like most of the changes made, although I do think Raw is now much stronger than Smackdown and got an uneven advantage in the exchange. Why? Well, when you break it down pick for pick, Cena and Batista are roughly equal but I think Cena has more of a long-term upside. Angle and Benoit are mirror images of each other, but Angle is a more interesting character and seems to be able to carry matches with lesser talent better. Carlito and Muhammad Hassan are roughly equal in role and status, but Carlito is ten times better on the mic and has a future, whereas Hassan is already getting old and is on the way down. That leaves you with Christian and Randy Orton on SD and Big Show and RVD on Raw. No real comparisions to make here, but I do think the only one who really benefits from the change in venue is Orton. He was dead weight on Raw, and now he can feud with Batista without HHH sticking his nose (pun intended) in. But Big Show and RVD are lost causes anywhere since neither one will ever get a serious push again, and all Christian's heat was geared toward a program with Cena that never really came to fruition and is now dead. I still wouldn't be surprised if he ends up being the biggest star out of this bunch one day. For now he's stuck behind JBL and Orton, but there aren't many other heels to feed to Batista so his day will come. In any case, I think change is good to keep things fresh, and there's a lot of potential here. I just don't like Cena's chances when he meets HHH, even if he is Hulk Hogan's new buddy. And has the best theme music in the company.

-If I could listen to just one artist's music for the rest of my life, it would be U2. They are consistently catchy without being too trite (excuse them for "Vertigo"), have a good amount of variety and their songs just speak to me. But that's just for today. By tomorrow my mind could change, because there's just too much great music in the world to be tied down.

That's all for now. Lots of cluster this week, so there'll be more later. Peace out, go see Batman!

"See the stone set in your eyes
See the thorn twist in your side
I wait for you
Sleight of hand and twist of fate
On a bed of nails she makes me wait
And I wait without you
With or without you
With or without you."
-U2, if you can't figure out what song, I can't help you

An Early Summer Night's Mare

The Immer Sanctum
"The story of a woman on the morning of a war:
'Remind me, if you will, exactly what we're fighting for!'
Throw me to the wolves! There's order in the pack.
Throw me to the sky! I know I'm coming back."
-poet laureate of alternapunk, Anthony Kiedis of Red Hot Chili Peppers

Welcome to June 23rd! Want to know what makes this day special? Ideally, there shouldn't be anything outstanding or extraordinary about this day at all. Of course, as so often happens in life, things do not always work out as planned. I've had this date earmarked somewhere in the far corners of my mind for quite a while now. I knew it was important, and a date I would want to keep in mind. I kept confusing the date with the occassion it represents, though, and as usual I didn't bother to write anything down. A fatal error, as always (right, Aiea?). So eventually, it took up a home in my cranium as some fuzzy inkling about some day in the early summer where something of remote significance was going to occur. In other words, here's you: "Wow, June 23rd is getting pretty close, you must be excited." Here's me: "Huh? Oh yeah, the 23rd...oh, it'll be great, I'm holding my breath, gonna be awesome, I gotta go."

The importance of this date as it unfolds now looms very large in my mind. That is because it is June 23rd, and it is the 21st birthday of my roommate D-Locke. And it has been all day. Since 12 a.m. this morning. I know, because I have been awake for nearly all of it. And anyone who knows me, knows that I don't do well with that little sleep-- so there must have been something drastic going on for me to stay up all night. That is true, there were drastic goings-on which, for all intents and purposes had nothing to do with me. That's why this day shouldn't have been all that special. It wasn't my birthday. I wasn't the one experiencing a milestone. I wasn't the one who was expected to go out and get completely and utterly tanked beyond reason. Yet I somehow ended up feeling the need to make this day a big deal for me as well as the birthday boy, and predictably, I was the one who got jack-holed.

I'll try to keep the story short. D-Locke has been talking up his birthday literally for over a year, pissing and moaning about how its position during the summer made him not only the last of his friends to become legal, but also how no one would be around to celebrate it with him. He planned to make up for these setbacks by getting annihilated with a capital "ni." Trust me, it sounds right when you say it. He also put a lot of stock in me, who apparently is his best friend at Notre Dame (I made a friend here, who knew?) being right by his side as his summer housemate for all the festivities. I said "Sure, of course I'll be there. It's on a Thursday? No problem, I bet I'll only have to work at my internship four days a week. I can party all Thursday night and crash Friday, no worries. And I'll have plenty of money to spend on booze from that summer computer lab job you're getting me. It'll be great." Do you see how I was promising a bit too much there? Maybe, just a little? Well, when this week finally arrived, I realized that my summer situation had not panned out exactly as I was planning. For starters, my internship is most definitely five days a week, I have to go in at 7 every morning, and it is a half-hour drive from my house to the TV station. Therefore, any night but Friday and Saturday is simply not conducive to heavy drinking of any kind. I can screw up my camera work just fine without being hung over, I don't need any help. Secondly, D-Locke sorta dropped the ball on my computer lab job, and as a result I am currently in the middle of my first shift working there even though I've been in South Bend for almost 3 weeks. Needless to say, I am a bit hard up for cash, so even I could have had a lot to drink last night, I wouldn't have wanted to. You know, because I like to eat and put gas in my truck and stuff.

So I was not in the best place to go on a wild bender with my buddy last night. As such, I downgraded my position from shot-buying wingman to heroic designated driver and bodyguard. I just love it when the old ego kicks in, it makes such good decisions for me. And it was in full swing this morning. It started at 7:00 last night. As I have been for the last three days, I carted D-Locke and my other housemate Mark around in the truck for a while without being asked if I was willing to do so. My possession of a vehicle has made me the automatic choice for house chauffeur, which sucks on a variety of levels. So we all jammed in to the cab of my truck, went and had an okayish dinner, I got to pay for D-Locke because he only had a debit card (heard that one before), we jammed back in, I had to spend $40 to fill my gas tank, we jammed BACK in, and ended up at D-Locke's friend John's house where we would pre-game until the clock struck 12 and we could go to a bar. I was still okay at this point. "I won't drink much," I told myself, "I'll just have a couple beers at the bar, stay 'til 1 or so and then I can drive home and sleep for 5 hours before work. I can buy him shots tomorrow when I can stand to spend money again, it'll be fine." So we played everyone's favorite get-krunked-quick game, Beirut. Or, as it is called by those who do not respect its given name, beer pong. D-Locke loves beer pong. So I agreed to play a couple of games as his partner, under the condition that he would do all the drinking for our team. Let me explain this move. Everything I know about D-Locke tells me he is a heavy drinker with a big tolerance. Once he gets going, he is hard to stop, and he prides himself on getting drunk as much as possible. So I figured making him drink all the pong beer would be doing him a favor. Of course he'd want to be drunk before going to the bar, he'd be so much looser and having so much more fun that way. What I always forget, however, is that while he drinks a lot D-Locke only goes about five and a half feet and 150 pounds or so. The will may be strong, but his tank fills quickly. And though he is an experienced drunkard, he's never learned to stop himself when he's had enough. So I shouldn't have believed him when after a 2-1 series victory in our first round of beer pong he said, "I can't drink anymore before the bar." I had already done my part to get him drinking too much too early, and now I was trusting him to stop himself. "Oh, you'll be able to stop him from doing anything really stupid," the ego chimed in. "Let him have his fun, he'll be fine." So when my lovely Aiea called at 10:30, I was confident everything would be okay. By the time I got off with her at 11:45, the situation had changed considerably.

In that hour and fifteen minutes, many more guests arrived at John's house. One of them was a young lady whom D-Locke and I had met Monday night while playing basketball. A charming lass named Andrea, she had fallen hook, line and sinker for the Jake and D-Locke comedy team; her exact words were, "I don't know why, but I can't stop laughing. You guys are funny!" Translation: I want some of your penises. Thankfully, I'm off the market, and that left only D-Locke to be the apple of her eye at the party. During my time on the phone, she began full-on flirting, becoming D-Locke's new pong partner, taking hats off of his head and wearing them, touching him at every opportunity, you know--the classics. At first I was pleased; "Good for D-Locke!" I thought. And of course, all the while, he just kept drinking. He had become easily the most inebriated person at the party, and then the x-factor arrived: my new boss and D-Locke's other best friend Erin. Erin and I got to talking, mostly about D-Locke, and she kept making snide comments about how Andrea was fawning all over him. It wasn't bothering me nearly as much as it was her, but I played along because she's been really nice to me and I wanted to get over with my new employer. Then, as we were making the five minute walk to the bar where D-Locke would break his drinking age cherry, she turned to me and said, "Jake, please make sure he doesn't hook up with that girl tonight." Now, a rational mind would have stopped her right there and said, "Hey, his decisions are his decisions, Erin. If he wants to have a drunken one night stand on his 21st, more power to him. It may be a cliche, but it'll be his cliche to engage in. It's none of my business." But something in her voice told me that she was more than just a little concerned about D-Locke making a stupid mistake. She had a more personal interest in what he and Andrea got up to on this night. Plus she had been laying a groundwork by telling me all night how much D-Locke loves me and respects my opinion more than anyone else. So it was that the ego had its say again: "This Erin girl is really nice, and she did you a big favor getting you that job. And she's right, D-Locke does respect you, because you're a stand-up guy. You have to do the right thing here. Don't let D-Locke do something hurtful and stupid. Show Erin what a great person you are. Be strong, be a man, impose your will on him. Lay down the law like the noble badass you are. And hey, if worst comes to worst, you can just beat him down and drag him home. He's little, you can take him." Maybe it was the two beers I had, but at this point I was convinced this was a good idea. I had really only just met Erin, and she had convinced me to step in where I really didn't belong. But then I thought, "Sure, Erin is nice, but so is Andrea. Why should I intervene on Erin's behalf just because she has some problem with this girl? How do I even know Andrea wants D-Locke in the first place?"

When we got to the bar, the situation escalated. Andrea began buying D-Locke shots left and right. Erin did everything she could to convince me of Andrea's status as a skank-ho. And D-Locke, of course, just kept on drinking. I was already leaning her way when Erin really reeled me in. First she asked me "what I knew." That was all she said, so of course I requested that she clarify her question. In typical girly fashion, she soon had me begging to know what she was talking about even though she insisted she really shouldn't say. She of course also made me promise not to mention to D-Locke what she was about to tell me. Then she dropped the bombshell. She and D-Locke had sex twice in the past 6 weeks. And she was his first. I was shocked. Especially because I had jokingly asked her not 5 minutes previous whether she and D-Locke has ever slept together. I knew they were close, but D-Locke had always insisted that she was a platonic friend, too close for anything to ever happen between the two. She may have been lying for all I know, but this new development threw me for a loop nonetheless. Now I was sure I couldn't let D-Locke hook up with Andrea. I could see Erin had feelings for him deeper than she was letting on. Or at least, my ego told me I could see that. As a noble and virtuous friend it was my duty to prevent him from destroying their friendship (or possible romance) on what was inevitably going to be a one-time fling. All I could hope for was that it wouldn't come to that; that D-Locke would have the wisdom to let me drive him home and leave Andrea for a more sober time. He didn't come through. He was hammered like I've never seen him, and he wanted to go with Andrea back to John's place. The gallant crusader that lives inside every man spoke from within me. "D-Locke, let's not do that tonight. That's a bad idea." He tried to bargain with me, offered to give me his wallet as collateral so that I'd at least let him walk her back to John's. He promised he'd come right back to get his wallet. Of course, at this point he was becoming incoherent, so it was actually hard to tell what he was promising. And Erin was only riling him up. He went outside for some air, and she followed him out. 2 minutes later, she returned and told me, "He's pretty bad, you better get him home." So I began the long, slow walk, alternating between dragging D-Locke and preventing him from falling, back to my truck. Unfortunately, I took a wrong turn, allowing John and D-Locke's other friends to cat call at him and try to convince him to come back to the bar. Eventually we ended up back there because we were so turned around, and Erin called a friend to give us a ride back to the truck. While waiting, D-Locke attempted to run into traffic, almost fell on the pavement several times, screamed Andrea's name, began speaking in what could only be called tongues and even raised his arms and worshipped a telephone pole. All the while I had to grapple with him like he was a wrestling bear or something. I was starting to get angry.

So we get him back to the truck, and of course John and his other friends are waiting there. They try to convince me to let him stay there and crash, confident that D-Locke could make his own choice on where he wanted to go. This was ridiculous, I told them, because he couldn't even speak English at this point, much less make a healthy choice. In reality, I should have let them take him. They had experience on handling drunks, and were willing to look after him. Not to mention it was already 1:45 in the morning and I had to work at 7. But the ego chimed in and said, "No! Only you can save him, Jakeman. This is your fight, your responsibility, who are they to question you? Besides, that tramp Andrea might be inside just waiting to defile young D-Locke. Think of what that would do to him, how ashamed he would be. And what about Erin? She would be crushed if you let that happen. No, no, you must take the boy yourself." So after some fighting and further drunk wrangling, D-Locke allowed himself to be stowed in my truck. Which, I hadn't noticed, had 3 partially flat tires. I knew I hadn't filled them with air in a while, but this was ridiculous. Actually, I didn't discover the flats until I woke up later this morning. So at 1:50 all I could think was, "Here I am, with 3 beers in me, driving home a drunk who is a puke bomb waiting to go off at any moment, steering with one hand and holding him up with the other, and my steering column is shot to boot. This is really not good." We made it home without D-Locke puking in the truck, but now I had another shocking realization to make. I was all alone with him, and I had never taken care of a drunk by myself before. And he was really drunk. And fighting me at every turn; I got him into the bathroom so he could pee, and I tried to leave but every time I took my hand off his shoulder he stumbled and started pissing all over the place. Then I tried to get him to puke into the toilet, but he insisted he had to go to the bathroom. He was already in the bathroom, I told him. Didn't matter. He wanted to puke on the floor. He succeeded, as I was only able to catch some of his vomit in a bucket as he began to retch. Over the next harrowing hour, he puked twice more as I tried to keep up with his stumblings all over the room. He sounded like he wanted me to do something, but I couldn't get him to make any sense. I got him to choke down some water and pass out on his side on a couch in the living room. I put his pillow under his head, cleaned up the puke as best I could, and by 4:30 I was relatively sure he wasn't going to die, so I laid down on the futon across the room and fell asleep. At 6:00 my alarm went off and D-Locke was still breathing, so I said a little prayer and went off to the TV station. At last look, he had gotten up and passed out on a couch in the other room. I don't expect he'll be up and around anytime soon, but I got him through the night okay and that's all I care about. At 3 in the morning I had thought there was a reasonable chance he was in fact going to die as Erin had predicted several hours earlier. Chalk it up to inexperience caring for drunks and my ego again: "If I don't act fast, I'll lose him!" and all that.

The moral of the story is that it's fine to care about your friends' well-being. But in many cases there is only so much you can do to prevent them from hurting themselves. Ultimately what they do is their choice, and you shouldn't overextend yourself trying to shield them from harm. That and the road to hell is paved with good intentions, and the paint for the lane lines is made of pure ego. The desire for heroic glory led me to believe that I knew what was best for D-Locke and that I could take care of him all by myself. It also led me to try and impress someone who didn't need impressing and prove myself even though absolutely no one was paying attention to my conduct. All it got me was a crappy night, a crappy morning, and an aching desire not to go out again tonight. This day did turn out to be special, and one that I will likely never forget, but for all the wrong reasons. And I'd like for it to end without any more excitement. D-Locke might be mad that I'm not willing to drive him around again and that he'll have to get a ride with someone else. He might be mad that his "best friend" isn't going to celebrate his birthday. Then again, who knows, maybe he'll be so sick that he won't even want to go out again. And I have to admit, if that happens because I didn't do enough to prevent him getting hung over, I don't regret it. Then again, that might just be the ego talking.

Dancin' in the Streets

Guess who's back in the mutha f***in' house,
With a fat d*** fo' yo' mutha f***in' mouth?
-Snoop Dogg

And the answer to that musical question would be me, the Jakeman. In not so many words. And man, has it been a while since I could sit down and collect my thoughts in a proper cyber-forum. See, the thing with my parents' internet access is that it isn't so much functional as...not. So for the last four weeks I have been more or less cut off from the 'net and all its wonders. Long enough that I bet I'm the only one who even remembers that this blog exists. Oh well, it's the world's loss, I guess.

When last I wrote, I was in near-ecstasy over the Bulls' return to the playoffs. Proof that good things never last. And before anyone gets all up in my area, saying I predicted they were going all the way, and that another dynasty was being born, let me just remind you: I only said that this year's Bulls squad reminded me of the glory days. That's all. I didn't say they could hang with Detroit, Miami, San Antonio or even Phoenix. I didn't say Ben Gordon was as good as Michael Jordan like some dopes in Chicago. I just said they had the makings of a very well-balanced, fun team to watch--much like the Bulls of the 90's. That being said, they still should've at least beaten the Wizards. And I think the Heat more than proved that point by putting the Wizz (like the Grizz from Memphis; rhymes with gis!) over their proverbial knee and spanking them in 4 games; without all that much help from Shaq, no less! The latest drama has been the re-signing of the man truly responsible for the Bulls' sudden return to respectability, head coach Scott Skiles. For those who didn't hear about it, let me sum it up with a little help from newspaper columnist and radio personality Rick Telander. Rick went on vacation from his radio station, WSCR 670 in Chicago, last Thursday secure in the fact that the Bulls were attempting to renegotiate Skiles' contract. It was supposed to be an easy process; Skiles ended 7 years of senseless suffering by taking the Bulls from the NBA's gutter straight to the #4 seed in the Eastern conference, so he deserved to get more money and a longer deal for his efforts. Rick came back to work last night and the deal was finally done. What happened in the 5 days in between was a senseless waste that proved nothing to no one. The only important thing is that someone wised up and got the one guy in 7 years who has figured out how to bring the Bulls' untapped potential together into a winning record a deal everyone could live with. Skiles is now overpaid, but so is everyone else in pro sports. Bottom line: I'm happy, as all Bulls fans should be. And remember: the dynastic Bulls had to get to the playoffs first before they won their championships. Every journey has a first step, and I think the Bulls may have just taken that all-important second step.

Meanwhile, back at the Hall of Justice...(quick thoughts now commencing):

-The White Sox are still the best team in the majors. And I swear I cannot watch one game without thinking, "How can this team be winning so much?" But, I guess it just wouldn't be the Sox if they weren't doing it the ugly way. And I already miss Hawk's White Sox eyepatch. "Stretch!"

-The Cubs, meanwhile, completed a West Coast roadtrip that would've made Ozzie Guillen weep for joy, took the NL Wild Card lead, and have promptly come home and lost 2 out of 3 to the Blue Jays before Sergio Mitre threw 7 innings of 2-hit, shutout ball and doubled off of Roy Halladay to prevent a sweep. "Jake confused." Seriously, this team makes my head hurt. But I'll keep watching in hopes that they win the Series just so I can see Kerry Wood and Mark Prior's wives jumping for joy (hoooottttttt!).

-WWE Raw hasn't been all bad lately. Hasn't been all good, either. Word. But I like the shakeup of bringing John Cena to Monday nights to face off with Christian in-ring and on the mic. Even if it does mean either HHH or his unwilling slave Batista are going to Smackdown to become the resident locker room dickhead. I mean, yeah, it might be Dave's only chance to get out from under the Game's thumb, then again it might only encourage him to follow his mentor's lead. I was so hopeful when ol' Big Nose said he was leaving the show, I knew it was too good to be true. I'm still hoping the draft will give me Rey Misterio vs. HBK and Shelton Benjamin vs. Eddie Guerrero somewhere down the line.

-In related news, I think I'm going to miss the ECW pay-per-view this Sunday, and I'm disappointed. I am really excited for this concept even though I think WWE's creative team (and talent) are going to be too involved and despite the fact that I was very scared ECW was going to become the norm and overtake WWE and WCW in the late 90's. I loved the ECW DVD as much as anyone; I thought it was the best WWE has ever made and it made me wish I had watched more of ECW. Plus I miss Tazz being in the ring, he's a bad ass. Thus I hope to see this show somehow very soon after it takes place. Unless Scott Keith tells me it's abominable. He's always right.

-When and if I get some extra money this year, I am buying one or many of the following:
Wrestlemania 21 , ECW One Night Stand and Wrestling Stars of the 1980's on DVD
Tickets to Wrestlemania 22 in Chicago
Dave Matthews Band's new CD and tickets to see them in concert
White Sox tickets (Yeeesss!)
A Blockbuster game pass
An iPod (I gotta admit I really want one) or a PSP
Some video game that will occupy way too much of my time (hopefully not sports-related, but probably so)
Issues of House of M, Infinite Crisis and all their tie-ins plus either Maximum Carnage or Onslaught in paperback
A car (don't tell Kota, but she's getting old)
Any help at my birthday or Christmas would be appreciated, but definitely not expected.

-Summer movie picks:
Crash--excellent; go and leave your misconceptions about the absence of racism in America at the door. You'll learn a lot.
Kingdom of Heaven--one prominent director I worked with said it brought Jerusalem alive like never before. Nice fight scenes, well paced, good editing. Interesting, gritty cinematography. I loved Liam Neeson and Jeremy Irons, as usual. Not as good as Gladiator or Braveheart, better than Troy. Recommended, especially for ladies with an Orlando Bloom fetish.
Madagascar--cute, family fun, but nothing more. My sense of humor has become too jaded to find it all that funny. But David Schwimmer and Chris Rock in the same movie is a worthwhile novelty.
The Longest Yard--okay, so maybe I was blinded by my geeky love for the wrestlers in this movie (Goldberg, Kevin Nash, Stone Cold, kickboxer Bob Sapp may as well be), but I thought it was great. It wasn't Scorcese, but I'm sucker for a well-utlized cast: Chris Rock gets to say n****r a lot, Burt Reynolds doesn't try to seem younger or cooler than he is, and James Cromwell is positively lovely to hate. I even liked Michael Irvin and Nelly, as they were used just enough not to be exposed. Sandler was a little forced as usual, and I don't buy him as an athlete, but this was at the very least a big step in the right direction after his last few suckfests (Little Nicky, 8 Crazy Nights, Mr. Deeds, anyone?). The better of Rock's two films.
Star Wars: Episode III--worth the wait. Not a blowaway orgy of greatness, but it did what it needed to do and was very cool on a dark, creepy level as promised. A happy ending would have helped, but I've been saying that since Mike Beverley spoiled the ending for me after Episode I came out. Sets up Episodes IV-VI perfectly. Ewan McGregor was superb, and Samuel L. was way too badass to get punked out the way he did. You don't do a brother like that.
Cinderella Man--best movie of the year. Oscar worthy as a film, and Russell Crowe and Paul Giamatti deserve nods for Actor and Supporting. Very well directed, too, as it was emotionally engaging without being too ridiculously melodramatic. Had me on the edge of my seat (only because I didn't review my boxing history, an oversight I recommend to anyone who wants to see it). And yes, I have to say it: I liked it better than Rocky. Maybe it's just because Jim Braddock was Irish, but I stick to my opinion.

-Summer movie wish list:
Batman Begins--could very possibly make me forget all the other movies listed above.
Fantastic Four--'cause it's Marvel Comics characters, and I just gotta.
Wedding Crashers--looks like another smash from the Old School/Dodgeball/Anchorman crew.
Mr. and Mrs. Smith--more Vince Vaughn smarmy jackass goodness along with Angelina Jolie being the sexiest I've seen her yet. Who cares if Brad Pitt's in it (no one leaves my Jen Aniston and gets off easy, punk)?
Must Love Dogs--adult John Cusack is the man. Teen whiner John Cusack, not so much, but adult John Cusack...
some stuff in August (?)--not enough info yet, but Brothers Grimm, The Island, Romance and Cigarettes, Valiant, 2046 and 3001 could be cool...(one of the last two has to be; I mean the title of both movies is a year, how cool is that?).

-TV: who's got time? Reality shows continue to suck. I will miss Cartoon Network mucho if I don't have cable this summer.

-Aiea: here's the lowdown for those who don't know. She's my girlfriend, I met her during the musical at Saint Mary's, she's a theatre major and an awesome actor, she's living and acting in Lansing, Michigan for the summer, she's very pretty, and I like her a whole big lot. And I miss her.

That's it. Wow, that was supposed to be a quick one. But you know me. Or do you?

Peace out!

You can drive a million miles tonight, but you can't get very far.
-Counting Crows