Are you paying attention? Am I?

Apologies in advance for the not-so-veiled sexual reference

Just some trivial stuff on my mind today. Namely how disgustingly behind my forward-thinking is.
At work today, I noticed for the nth time the smarmy face of our dear friend Mr. Harrison Ford, reputed outstanding citizen of Jackson Hole, Wyoming, staring up at me. Out of curiosity, I pick up the October 2008 issue of NatGeo's "Adventure" magazine to see what it holds. I never make it to the article about Mr. Ford's rules of adventure, because just a few pages in I'm startled by a photo out of one of my very own daydreams; the backsides of dirt mounds in the background and a steel motorcycle ramp in the foreground, I find myself looking at an airborne motocrosser sailing over the arc of -what's this?- a fully airborne Subaru STI rally car. My inital wonderment and joy fade as I helplessly read the attached article. Rally is apparently making quite a mark these days in U.S. extreme sports culture. I thought I had grown out of the X-Games when I realized I could no longer skateboard, even though I secretly wished I could do something good enough to get into the games. Well, it just so happens that my beloved rally has been featured in the last several installments of the destination extreme sports event.
Now, before you think this is just a simple rant, please understand. I was under-exposed as a child. I knew nothing about rally in my formative years, for goodness sake I didn't really even know that club soccer was such a big deal, I thought only a few kids played it (I guess my deductive reasoning skills were still developing too, since the "few kids" represented about 60% of my friends). I discovered it some time in my teens, while perusing computer game cases at a shop or surfing cable channels at a friends house (we didn't have cable). I recall being mezmerized- after all, this was what I wanted to do when I drove my mom's 74 beetle around town, or better yet on those few occasions where I got to drive it down some washboard road in the desert for a camping trip. But you don't do those kinds of things in your mothers car. Well, not that you'd admit to, anyway... not even in a blog. I was not often the kind of kid to try that kind of stuff full-on, however. Are you kidding? That's a good way to really crash a car! I know, I've watched it on TV.
Anyway, here I am reading this article about a very talented kid named Travis Pastrana who sort of crashed the american rally scene on a wild hare, and Ken Block who's great idea's earned him the $ to finance his own upstart rally carrear. Of course he's got talent too, or he probably wouldn't be alive any more. I don't have a problem with these guys, though. What crushed me was that my obscure european sport is now being marketed to the generation I want to leave behind me... I suppose my problem is that I need to see the good in them, and I also need to realize that the true fans are the ones who will hike for hours to be on the turns and at the jumps that are 10, 12, 15 miles from the closest road that isn't closed for race day. It's becoming less and less obscure. On the bright side, it appears certain that the true fans will still be a pretty core bunch.
You know, I hated the idea of this new generation of rally fans for a while, but since I've had time to think as I've written this, I just might be OK with it after all. Besides, Rally is like a really amazing girlfriend. You just can't stay mad at someone who makes you feel like that. The fact that you get to slide all over her curves is just an incentive for making up.
~Oceanmemories

Sputtering Out

I think and think and think about how badly I need to write some things down... be it here or elsewhere. I think some more about it.
By the time I do something about all that thinking: I'm out of time- out of energy- tired.
Curse this stinking hole of a life I've made for myself.
I think that gets me more than about anything else. No matter how much I search for a scapegoat, the only one I can blame for my circumstances is myself, in some way or another.