Esoteric Bowl

I was relaxing at home, reading an interesting book and listening to music. I suddenly heard a soft squeaking sound. Unsure of where the sound was coming from, I turned the volume of the music down and listened. Nothing. I began playing with the volume control of the music, thinking that the noise may have been coming from the speakers.

Then I heard the strange sound again. It wasn’t coming from the speakers, but rather from the kitchen. I turned on the kitchen light, looking and listening for the source of the sound. Then I finally found it. It was a mouse, stuck inside the roach motel.

I carefully opened the top of the motel and could see that half of him was stuck in the glue-board. His head and arms were stuck, while his legs and tail were moving about. The more he struggled and squealed, the more of him was getting glued down.

I don’t think that I have mentioned this here before, but I have somewhat of a phobia when it comes to mice and rats. I’m unsure where or when the root of this phobia developed, but I do know that when I was very little, Mickey Mouse scared me and made me cry during a trip to Disneyland.

Despite my fear, I felt sorry for the little mouse. I didn’t want to kill him, but I also didn’t want to grab him with my hands and pull him out of the trap either. Maybe, I thought, if I poured some warm water on the glue board, the mouse might be able to free himself and escape.

Not wanting to free him inside the house, I picked up the roach motel and placed it outside my door. I then went into the kitchen and filled a pot with warm water. When I returned outside, the mouse and the trap were gone. Maybe he freed himself, but where did the trap go? I searched the area, wondering what had happened. I walked alongside the building, searching the grounds on both sides of me. When I reached the end of the building, I glanced around the corner and saw a cat struggling to pull the roach motel off its face.

When it comes to the Superbowl, there are two questions that I will eventually ask prior to kickoff. First, what teams are playing in the game, and second, what am I going to eat while watching the game? Since I usually know what teams will be playing in the game, I generally just have to concentrate on the menu.

Superbowl Sunday is probably one of the biggest eating days of the year. Thanksgiving and Christmas are big eating days too, and television sports has been incorporated into these holidays. But unlike Christmas and Thanksgiving, the Superbowl doesn’t even attempt to claim to be about family, loved ones, peace on Earth, etc., etc. It’s about football, corporate sponsors, cheerleaders, and plenty of food and drink. It is the one day of the year where sitting in front of the television all day long with the clicker in one hand and food in the other is seen as acceptable behavior. It is the couch potato fourth of July.

A deli sandwich sounded good. Perhaps a footlong turkey sub with avacado or a pastrami and swiss on rye. Unfortunately, there aren’t any delicatessens in the neighborhood that specialize in the art of sandwich making. There is a Subway and a Blimpie nearby, but I wouldn’t consider their sandwiches to be deli-art. I tend to question sandwich places where the biggest signs in the storefront windows are “Fresh Baked Bread” or “Fresh Taste”. Oh sure, I like fresh baked bread and fresh taste just as much as the next person, but when it comes to a deli sandwich, I want meat to be a focus rather than an afterthought.

Since I’m on the topic, what’s the deal with this Jared Fogle guy that Subway has been promoting? Apparently he lost a ton of weight by eating Subway sandwiches, which is great for him. But now he’s in all of the Subway advertisements, on their webpage, and touring the country. He was recently here in the islands signing autographs!

Anyway, I passed on the idea of the deli sandwich. I bought some Tostitos Rounds, you know, the cute little oval tortilla chips. I also bought some sharp cheddar cheese, olives, jalapeno peppers, refried beans, and diced a juicy red tomato. Killer Nachos!

Are you getting pumped-up for the SuperBowl matchup between the Oakland Raiders and the Tampa Bay Buccaneers? Some people that never watch a game all year become excited about the SuperBowl. Maybe it’s the magnitude of the event that draws them in. Maybe it’s the parties and gatherings. Maybe it’s the love for the creative commercials. Maybe it’s the valid excuse for not having to go to church.

In my childhood, I was always excited about the SuperBowl and in watching professional football altogether. But in recent years, my passion for the game has faded. I still turn on the game, but I often fall asleep somewhere around halftime.

In my eyes, the game has changed somewhat. Perhaps it isn’t so much that the game has changed, but rather the presentation of sports in general has changed. It seems like television sports too often focuses on the selfish showboating and rewards the in-your-face attitudes of certain players. In a recent playoff game between the NY Giants and San Francisco 49er’s, it seemed like after every play there was someone doing a dance or making a gesture to humiliate someone else. It got to a point where I was hoping somehow both teams would lose.

There was a time when I used to have a strong allegiance to certain teams. Then my support went from certain teams to cheering for specific players. Now I’m at the point where I root for the team which is the most humble and has the fewer big-mouths on the roster. In the World Series, I cheered for the Anaheim Angels, not because I’m a big fan of the team, but rather because they were playing against the San Francisco Giants and Barry Bonds.

So which team will I be cheering for on SuperBowl Sunday? In my opinion, the Buccaneers lead the Raiders in big-mouths with a 2-1 ratio. Therefore, I will be cheering for the Raiders; at least until I fall asleep.

Another day, another blog entry.

There are times when I sit at the computer, hands on keys, and thoughts appear with relative ease.

There are those occasions when I will share a current experience that I find interesting or humorous or which may hold a few grains of meaning.

There are times when there is no meaning, and I will gather the rainy day links of interest and spend them rather than wrestle with my thoughts.

Sometimes the thoughts have been simmering on the back burner with a gentle boil, awaiting to be stirred and stimulated.

There are times when I awake from my sleep and discover that fairies have left behind a magical seed that must be planted.

There are those times when I will glimpse through the pages of my life and refer to a chapter from the past.

Sometimes while in meditation, a gift will appear with an infinite number of ways to be unwrapped and shared.

There are those occasions where I will open a vein and let whatever flows to fall upon the page.

There are times when I will visit the links upon my site, and from the inspirational, I will receive creative direction.

Sometimes while watching television, the devil’s advocate will build an argument.

There are times when my mind walks in the rain, seeking pools and puddles for reflection.

Sometimes the politics of the world becomes far too heavy and I feel that I must unload.

There are times when the sound of a child’s laughter, the sway of a woman’s hips, the shine in a stranger’s eyes, the calm of a garden, the taste of a homemade meal, the soul-piercing sound of an angeilic voice, or the touch of a loving hand can inspire the words to come and flow unrestrained.

And there are those fallow times when all the inspiration in the world could not provide a paragraph.

It’s interesting how we see in frequency that which is on our minds. A couple planning a wedding will often discover the many other couples that are also engaged. Or those expecting a child will often remark how they are seeing an increased number of pregnant women walking about.

Perhaps it’s not the same thing, but when I’m out in town, it is children that I see. It’s strange in a way because children in general aren’t really in my conscious thoughts, but still I see them no matter where I go. They catch my eye in a way unlike adults do, and I am drawn to watch them.

They may be at one of the neighborhood diamonds playing baseball or softball. I’ll stand along the fences and watch them play and find myself quietly cheering them on. Or I will see the tiny girls at the grocery store, pushing their mock-carts like little mommies, and I can’t help myself but to turn and watch them in their pretend play. Sometimes I will sit in quiet meditiation at the park and soon find myself sitting amongst parents, watching the children as they interact with each other. Their laughter and giggles are infectious, and my heart skips a beat when I hear one of them crying.

I’m at a place in my life where I understand that having a child of my own is rather unlikely. I mean at my age, I don’t want to start making my own grandchildren. Admittedly, there was a time not so long ago when I would scan the personal ads to find an instant family, a single woman that had children of her own. And while there are many wonderful and remarkable single-mothers out there, I had the misfortune of meeting those few that had their priorities of parenting and partying mixed-up.

I gave up on that idea all together. Relationships are all too fragile it seems. It’s not fair to the women, the kids, nor to myself. Once you have a child in your life, its difficult to be without them. The child is always there in memory and thought, and it’s not possible to forget about them or to stop wondering how they are.

In continuing with my spring cleaning, I came upon a large manilla envelope. Inside, along with assorted cards, notes, and letters, was a pack of Zig-Zag rolling papers. Wow, Mr. Zig-Zag! Long time no see. It truly was like seeing an old friend that I had not seen in a long time. Many memories there.

I remember the first time I saw Zig-Zag rolling papers. I was riding in my brother’s car going somewhere and saw a pack on the dashboard. I didn’t know what they were for, but thought the package itself looked cool. To me, Mr. Zig-Zag kind of looked a bit like Jesus. I picked up the pack to look at it, and my brother quickly grabbed it out of my hand. Although I just wanted to have a closer look, he wouldn’t let me. When I asked what it was for, he told me they were Post-It Notes. And I believed him.

Since the first of the year, I have been doing some spring-cleaning in my home. Little by little, I’ve been going through the closets, the drawers and cabinets, sorting through all the stuff that has accumulated. In cleaning like this, it’s important to remember to have somewhat of a tunnel vision which allows for one area to be cleaned at a time. I often forget this lesson and soon find that all the stuff which was neatly tucked away is now scattered about the house.

When it comes to all the different kinds of cleaning, this is certainly one that I don’t mind to do. Although going through the accumulation is time-consuming, it does allow the mind to get lost in the sentimental things of the past. Other than clothes, many of things in the closets hold some sentimental value, so it becomes necessary to go through each item separately. It’s inevitable that when I clean like this, I will eventually find myself sitting on the bed reading letters I received from long ago or revisiting old college papers I had once toiled for days on.

And so I sort into piles the saveable from the trash, sometimes momentarily forgeting which pile is which. Oftentimes I will find items that I forgot I had or discover things that bring back a wide variety of memories.