Honolulu Blue Forever
My heart was full of glee this afternoon when Jeff Garcia's pass was intercepted and returned for a Bears' touchdown in overtime. It was an odd sensation. I feel no particular animus against Garcia, he's never done anything to me, but such is my resentment for the messianic way he was treated by the state media over the past week that I was truly pleased to see that he personally cost us today's game against the Bears. I learned something about myself today, I learned that I cannot cheer for the Detroit Lions as long as Jeff Garcia is the starting quarterback. I bear the man no individual ill will, I do not wish to see harm befall his person, but I loathe what he represents: Steve Mariucci's desire to blame all the Lions' shortcomings on Joey Harrington. I've said it before and I'll say it again, Joey Harrington will never be Joe Montana and he certainly deserves a healthy portion of the blame for the Lions' 2-3 record this season in games he started as QB. But what evidence is there that Mariucci is taking any person responsibility for the movable feast of ineptitude that is his football team? Instead, Mariucci is pathetically trying to recapture the "glory" of his years in San Francisco, bringing in such old chums as Garcia (thanks again for the overtime interception, that was beautiful) and Ted Tollner (an offensive coordinator so bad at his job as to make UM's Terry Malone look good). I cannot root for the Lions as long as Jeff Garcia is the starting quarterback, but nevertheless I will wear my Lions T-shirt tomorrow. Let's say I'm doing it for old times sake (it is, after all, old enough to give the Lions' division as the old NFC Central, not the modern NFC North).

The Living Daylights... Saving
My mom woke me up this morning at 9am, i.e. it felt like 10am. Dear Bog, woman, what is wrong with you? The whole beauty of the end of daylight saving time is that I can sleep in until what feels like 11am, but then pull a fast one on the universe by getting out of bed at the new 10am. If I get up at 9am, what feels like 10am (the time I usually arise on Sundays), I'm letting the universe get away with stealing an hour from me when DST began last spring. Only by spending that extra hour in bed can I balance the scales and restore justice. So, even though my eggs got cold, I struck a blow for justice and went back to sleep for an hour. Thanks to the modern marvel of the microwave oven, I was able to stick my tongue out at the universe and eat warm eggs, too. Victory for ZIM!