I love football. And I love the Cincinnati Bengals-regardless of their futility. Sundays in the Fall are for football, and there is no doubt about that. But today, the Bengals did not play, because they had already been summarily dismissed by the Squeelers earlier this week. Therefore, my Sunday was free to pursue other interests. This morning, I played disc golf with a bunch of my friends on a gorgeous, crisp November day. I then got to watch a bunch of proficient football, including the Tennessee Titans losing their first game. I even got a taste of the 'other' football when I watched the Columbus Crew win the MLS title. Later on, my buddy Hans introduced me to an intriguing, and potentially addictive German board game called Carcassonne. When I finally got home, I enjoyed the Xavier Musketeer's upset of #12 Memphis in the Puerto Rico Shootout. After seeing UC's victory over Pitt last night, a win that will potentially in the Orange Bowl, it's nice to see that some local teams are currently successful. I just watched the Indianapolis Colts beat San Diego Chargers on a last second field goal-some decent football for sure. It was nice to have a Sunday-and a weekend for that matter-that did not include having to witness the Bengals' poor play. What was almost as satisfying, was not having to scramble for justifications as to why I still care.
So it's finally over. After 21 years of being the pied-pipers of our age, The Phish from Vermont is finally hanging it up. I'm sure our reactions to this are quite varied, as varied as our reasons for liking them in the 1st place. For some they were just a really good band, for some they were just a really good party. For others, they were a primary social unit responsible for bringing people together and shaping a community. For some other folks, they were the purveyors of mystical experiences and therefore garnered a kind of religious devotion. For me personally, they were all of these things at once, with time being the variable that dictated which aspect I valued the highest. Whatever the case, they created their own little world: A microcosm in which every interaction, every deed, every emotion was more pronounced and more intense than in the 'real world'. Just like a wrinkled raisin tastes stronger than a grape. So are we going to miss all of that? I'm ...
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