Wake up!

It's as though I have been asleep for eight months. And just this morning, that feeling in the pit of my stomach became something much more serious. Today is Friday, and tomorrow is Satidy. And - remember this phrase - not just any Satidy.

I have told you before how much this sport means to me, and if I care for you very much then you probably feel the same way. Somehow, I think in May or June of every year that I will somehow outgrow this obsession, and it never seems to happen... I don't think it ever will.

Here in Athens, traffic has stiffened over the last day-and-a-half. Here in Meghan's living room, the smell of her pre-gameday creations has exploded through the apartment (red velvet cupcakes with chocolate chips!). In Atlanta, friends are calling to finalize plans and the reponsibilities for tailgating supplies. Smiles, eyebrows, and pulses are raised all over town, and the normally quiet parts of the day have been replaced with non-stop frenzy. Athens is buzzing and so am I, with as much brilliance as in any year before.

It's as though I have been asleep for eight months. But tomorrow is Saturday, and now I am wide awake. I hope you are too.

Bom Chicka What?

I realize that no one who reads this blog has ever viewed pornographic material. I am sure, however, that many of you know someone who has, and that most of that many are familiar with the cliche musical motive from the High Music that is pornographic film score.

During a "slow" moment at summer camp, someone presented a couple of commercials that parodied that motive. There are posted below for your pleasure (more or less safe for work, unless you work at a convent):





After viewing these and a European version from the same campaign which used a different version of this motive, a debate ensued regarding the exact spelling and pronunciation of the motive. Due to the inherent handicap in attempting to orally dictate (he he) the performance of an instrument, the debate has never been resolved. It has however resulted in some interesting, and often downright ridiculous, interpretations of the lick (he he).

I do not understand how I have gotten this far into the entry (he he) without using the word "seminal."

Aaaaaaaaaanyway...

At some point, someone with an idle mind and a bit too much free time wondered aloud what the version of the motive might sound like for specific styles of porn. Some of the answers are below. You may provide your own if you wish:

- Urologist Porn = "Bow Chicka Wee-wee"
- Cheerleader Porn = "Boom Chicka Rah-Rah"
- Belinda Carlisle Porn = "Bow Chicka Go-Go"
- Dog-lover Porn = "Bow Chick Chihuahua"
- Fozzy Bear Porn = "Bow Chicka Wocka Wocka"
- Georgia Bulldog Porn = "Bow Chicka Woof Woof"

K.

If you don't think...

the Gators are bad for the SEC, bad for fashion or the future of taste in commercial music, and simply bad for America, then you clearly haven't seen this video. Before you listen/watch, have a trash can and a bottle of PediaLyte ready. It is a truly horrible combination of portions of Grease and the B-52's' "Love Shack," bred with the worst imaginable subject matter.

Kkhhhokay…

As mentioned below, I am in Athens and basically settled. I have moved into a duplex apartment in the same neighborhood in which I lived in my last five years in town.

There are some unusual sensations that have occasionally bubbled up in the early days of my return. Living here and not having an affiliation with the university is unusual if welcome. Living in a seemingly suddenly altered version of a town, to whose changes I previously had been too close to observe, scrambles my sense of space. And in perhaps the cheapest but most palpable sense, living in an apartment with the reverse floor plan of my old home sometimes makes this feel like a bit of a Bizarro Athens.

And I think Bizarro Athens is a fitting way to say it. For me, it is a version of Athens in which I am not so busy that I can’t think. It’s a version of Athens in which I can genuinely enjoy living rather than paddling with all of my might most of the time. This version of Athens contains a lot of history but few ties, a lot of potential but few demands. It is also the site, for me, of contentment rather than panic, and love rather than need. If it is Bizarro Athens, I prefer it in many ways to the original.

As I reread that, I realize that that is a bit unfair to suggest that I was lonely the last time I lived here. You know what I mean.

The longer I am alive, the more clearly I hear screams of testimony from those who know the truth that still sounds like a whisper to me: Life is too short not to do what makes you happy. That is exactly what I am doing. It seems to be working.

In Athens.
I'm almost as tired as I am happy.
Move in on Monday.
Ow.

Overdue Relief for the Gigantic Change Bucket of Love

Those of you who have been to my home at any point in the last seven years or so may recall the existence of some incarnation of what has most recently been known as the Gigantic Change Bucket of Love (which, incidentally, is the companion item to the Gigantic Trash Can of Death). When I moved to Nashville in 2005, the weight of the bucket was such that its relocation required a furniture dolly. Needless to say, I was not looking forward to moving it again.

Late on Saturday, M made a very welcome pseudo-surprise trip to Nashville to bring some semblance of order to my life and belongings as she helped me pack for my impending move back to Athens. After some discussion, we decided against a socially embarassing, financially costly, and potentially chiropractically disastrous trip to the local Coinstar machine. Instead, we counted and rolled the contents of the Gigantic Change Bucket of Love. I had estimated the value of the contents to be approximately four-hundred dollars U.S.

After approximately eight total hours of rolling coins, which was accompanied by the broadcast of approximately two Braves games and one episode of the Daily Show, the rollable payload of the vessel was calculated to be $417.50. After adding the one-dollar coins (to which I repeatedly insisted on erroneously referring as "Dollar Bill Coins"), the total booty came to $434.50.

Big plans are being made for the windfall, one of which involves food and one of which involves strings and country music (And no, I am not bringing back Jessi, the Sexually Ambiguous Gospel Puppet). Below is a photo of the bottom of the bucket in case you haven't seen it. It is unlikely that you will see it again for the next several years, so look while you can.

• My utilities have all been moved to the new residence. If you try to reach me at 615-VERMIN-7, you will get a disconnected message.

• I saw DCI Quarters last night in the theatre, and was mostly pleasantly surprised at the creativity and level of performance. Having never marched, taught, or judged the activity, here are my brief impressions:

- Crown is on the edge of competing for a title. I am thrilled to have watched its rise.
- I will be interested to see what is next for the Academy.
- I have personally grown tired of some of the more formulaic designs that repeated themselves this year.
- I think horn lines, as a rule, are not playing enough. I have felt this way since Denver.
- The Cadets show made me feel weird. I agree with pulling the corps for lines, and I think the booing was unacceptable and a bad sign for the future of drum corps.

• I am as happy as I remember being.

• After getting my oil changed and tires rotated, picking up some boxes and visiting with family, I am going to see this group at Russell's request. This means that I have to go to the Williamson County Fair, one of a type of event that I have always thought was inappropriately named in the same way that the abbreviation for Oklahoma "could be better."

• Knibb High School Football rules.

On my way back from lunch

Sorry (kinda) for the prolonged break. I am finished teaching for the foreseeable future, almost finished writing, and I'm getting ready to pack some boxes and back up the G*&*%$#@&*ed truck yet again. Life is as busy as I remember it post-RCB, and that's fine. But it will be nice to breathe for a moment in the near future.

Nashville tomorrow morning. Bouncing between Georgia and Tennessee after that for two weeks. Athens on 8/20.

Meaningful blog entry soon. Promise.

No, really.