This is a story about soccer. First off, I am NOT a soccer mom. I just happen to have a kid that
plays soccer (ok, well, plays might be too strong a term) is on a soccer team. Now, I never really liked soccer, if only because I grew up a white kid in the rural Midwest in the 80s. We played baseball and softball. In the middle of the day, the middle of the summer, all summer long. Flashback to 1984: we play a game or two of soccer in PE, and that’s the extent of my soccer playing career. Flashback to 1996: the US women’s soccer team takes the Olympic gold medal. A huge day in woman’s sports! These women really made an impression on millions of young (and old) girls and totally strengthened the visibility and viability of female sports in this country. Flashback to 2002: I watch Bend It Like Beckham. Hey! Soccer looks kinda cool. Present day: soccer is everywhere. Our formerly soccerless community kinda likes soccer around here. We have our own county league, and the high school has a soccer team! Girls and boys compete on the same teams. Girls kicking boys’ asses! Seriously, if this had been available when I was a kid, you better believe I would have been all over kicking boys’ asses!
In our county league, a kid can play soccer at the tender age of 3…and therein lies the problem. Three-year-olds are not, in general, very interested in, or very good at, competitive sports. Neither is my 4-year-old. You see, I am what you might call old school when it comes to sports. Winners are winners and losers are losers. You don’t get a trophy for last place. You play to win. You don’t stand around, twirl your hair, and look at the ground. You don’t play a sport UNLESS YOU WANT TO. I cannot bear to watch my kid stand around, twirl her hair, and look at the ground. What have I done? Three is too young. Four is too young. Five? Probably too young. So, chalk this one up to lesson learned. Next year, we’re playing T-ball!!
A little something I found in my draft folder, written prior to Christmas. Applicable to Valentine’s Day. How convenient, cause I’m pretty much void of any comprehensible thought, wit, or wisdom today. Here we go:
Instructions for shopping at a bookstore when you don’t read to begin with (and I’m assuming you are trying to be cool and buy your bookish friends/family something for the holidays [uh, Valentine's Day that is]; a noble cause but just get a damn gift card):
1. Just get a damn gift card.
2. Get the fuck out of my way. This is a bookstore, dammit, not Wal Mart.
3. Look! Over there, it’s the magazines. At the end of the Romance aisle. You belong there. And there.
4. Uh, seriously, no one likes “coffee table” books. No one.
5. Coffee. Is that coffee? Go over there and sit. Don’t talk. Just sit. Maybe read a magazine. Or a Romance.
6. Now, exit the store. Go to Wal Mart. Go on, you deserve it. (But please don’t buy the shitty chocolates there for your reader friend/spouse/lover. You should have a least bought Godiva at the B&N. God, what a loser you are.)
I wanna sleep here.
Don’t hate me. It’s just that I’m too nice in real life. I have to get the sarcasm out somehow. And why am I capitalizing Romance?
So Valentine’s Day is just a week away. Valentine’s Day is interesting, very interesting. Let’s see, it was created to honor certain Christian martyrs, and according to Wikipedia, there were several early Christian martyrs named Valentine. Yes, I know, Wikipedia: the end all of knowledge. But whatever, I’m sure there’s some truth in this.
So tell me, how many of our holidays are NOT based on Christian martyrs? Thanks to Chaucer, the Valentinian martyrs (of which there appear to have been more than one) eventually became associated with romantic love (somehow, I’m not really prepared to go into that type of detail).
Anyway, as we all know, Valentine’s Day is just another commercialized non-holiday holiday featuring a bunch of red hearts and shitty chocolates. The Wal-Marts of the world love it. Another chance to sell cheap crap for, well, cheap. I noted an entry in our old friend Wikipedia referring to Antivalentinism, which is just fucking awesome, particularly in this post-Seinfeld world.
Happy Antivalentinesday folks!
Old school Valentine (a.k.a., the way it should be).