Then I remembered my Charlemagne . . .

Very revealing

Ricky,
Reading your last post, I suddenly had this vision of you in high school watching the Red Shoe Diaries in some kid's basement. It wasn't pretty.

The Red Cleat Diaries

This blog is many things. A repository of humorous internet detritus. A series of reflections upon man, love, and valentine's day. A mirror for shameless displays of pride in one's own cover band. And now it is one more thing: an anonymous confessional for former lovers of one of the world's great ultimate players. Let's call it: the Red Cleat Diaries.

Name: Ana (changed to protect identity)

My name is Ana. And I have a confession to make. I once loved, and was loved by, one of the world's great ultimate players. I can't bear to say his name, because the very sound sunders apart the fragile unity of my heart, which I have spent so many years piecing back together. And yet he who cannot be named or defended by just one defender is on my mind, always. Could I forget that hair, flaring madly backwards after his speed, chasing after that disc...just as he once chased after me? When a woman feels herself to be the object of such intense focus, such masculine, animal desire, she can never forget it. And so I must confess it all if I wish to live with any hope of peace.

Peace. That is what he loved. He loved simplicity because he loved peace. LIVE LOVE LAUGH; that was his motto. And he lived by it. He was so spontaneous, always in the moment. Once, in the spring, we walked down the street, under trees just beginning to bloom. He was pensive, and I thought distracted, which wasn't like him, until suddenly, with feline grace, he lept 43 inches vertically and took a blossom off one of the highest tree branches. "Here," he said, "i want you to have this; it reminded me of you." So typical. He was a romantic soul. And he never capitalized his first person pronouns, even when speaking. So humble...

One game he liked to play involved standing off a bit and throwing the disc, like in a normal warm-up. But after each toss he'd move closer, and closer, and closer. Till at last he'd be right next to me, and he'd say, "when a disc dreams it dreams it is kissing you" and then he'd lean in and kiss me, slowly, and deeply, like a youth drinking his first frisbee full of Rolling Rock. And he wouldn't take his lips off until he was good and done.

I thought what we had would always grow, into an endless future, a forever spring. Life was so full then: tournaments, practices, team dinners, and watching all three Star Wars movies-he'd say there are only three- back to back to back. During his weekly shower he'd sing all his favorite songs by Jethro Tull, and pretend that the shampoo bottle was his flute. God, I loved him. And yet I always knew when I held him that I was really keeping him back; there was a voice inside me that said, "you can't hold the handler." In our most intimate moments I felt a nervous anxiety like he was going to call me for a foul, like I would have to give up the disc and that would be the game. Love I had; security in that love was never mine.

Time passed and in time what we had did too. He stopped coming to my room at odd hours, and then stopped coming around at all. 'i have worlds coming up' he said. 'i've got to train.' But I knew that was a lie. Men must train; gods do not. I'd see him with other women, playing with some the very same game of toss and kiss he'd once played with me. Words never said what I knew was true: our love had passed from his heart, even as it still burned alive in mine. I grew jealous of the other women, jealous of them, jealous too of the discs that he hunted down with such passion and fire: they all had now what once I did and what I hungered for still. His coolness made me hotter, until at last I was consumed with desire for the one I could never catch; could I give up this chase? Could I lay out and risk losing my very self?

After years, I made a decision. I was getting older, and he seemed never to age. He'd loved dozens of beautiful women even as I remained faithful to his image. I could not not love him, and so I resolved, even without hope, that I would still love him, and forever, in the depths of my heart. Other men I would see and associate with on the outside, but inside, down inside, there I would be. Like a frisbee field without a game, I would wait in silence. And from there I write to you, Red Cleat Diaries. I am haunted by the discs of my past.

Labels: bela fleck and the flecktones, elegy, sausages

Eugene & Rusty in full effect

Hey, Gang.

I thought I'd finally introduce some rockin' tunes to the conversation.

Go to:

www.myspace.com/lobby

if you want to find out about my totally sweet band, Eugene & Rusty. You can listen to one of our mp3s ("Asshole") in the upper right area.

Or, go to:

http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=153178380

to see a video of us in action! Look for the 4th (or so) video down, which says "Love My Girl" on the title screen. The video was taken by some random guy who runs a local music magazine (Analog Mutant Music Magazine).

Yay for self-promotion!

The Penitent Man

(Also: there are probably better ways to embed these links, but I don't know how. If someone does, feel free to clean up my messy cut-and-paste method.)

(Double also: when you go to the video page, it will automatically open an mp3 by a different band. You'll need to hit 'stop' on that song to hear our video.)

I AM THE WALRUS

"I quote John Lennon, 'I don't believe in The Beatles, I just believe in me.' Good point there. After all, he was the walrus. I could be the walrus. I'd still have to bum rides off people."

Frisky Dingo

SHORTY, I attached the links to the other episodes.

Kids Know Too Much

Going to mass for Ash Wednesday, I overheard a conversation between one of my 8th graders and a few 2nd grade buddies...

2nd grader: Did you hear that Britney Spears shaved her head?
8th grader: Yep
2nd: Why would she do that?
8th: Because she's crazy.
Other random 2nd grader who hopped into the conversation: She's on speed.

Little kids know too much these days.

Kids Know Too Much

Going to mass for Ash Wednesday, I overheard a conversation between one of my 8th graders and a few 2nd grade buddies...

2nd grader: Did you hear that Britney Spears shaved her head?
8th grader: Yep
2nd: Why would she do that?
8th: Because she's crazy.
Other random 2nd grader who hopped into the conversation: She's on speed.

Little kids know too much these days.

I'm Back

Excellent! It was so nice to come back to work and get caught up with all of the blogging that has been going on. You guys rock. So good to hear from you. My thoughts will be somewhat scattered, so I apologize in advance.

I back at work after a 6-day weekend. No joke. We got 5 inches of snow and the city practically stopped. The Feds even shut down early last Tuesday and opened late on Wednesday. My school just tucked tail and sought cover. Nice. I wish I could say I did something remarkable with my time off other than hit the gym, watch 24 on DVD, finish one book, start another, head downtown to have lunch with Andrew every day, but I can't in good conscience.

Oak - the angst of kids over Valentines. Totally experienced it even though we weren't in school. We do candy grams here where the kids write notes and send candy to others. We distributed them in lockers on Tuesday. One of my girls was absent, so didn't see Danny's response to her "I like you" note and had to wait until today to see him. Yikes.

Our Valentine's Day in the District. I had no school and Andrew had a delay, so decided to "work from home." We continued our tradition of getting each other a book and the most hideously corny card we could find. Excellent. I received one that sings "Best of my Love" by the Emotions. He got one addressed to "My Beautiful Wife." We finished the night with cheese dreams (ie. grilled cheeses) and cheap wine.

Baig- you should stop in to Ringa Funeral Home. Andrew's Dad, Bob, would be happy to see you. Also, it is a great place to get free flowers if needed. Ask Andrew's prom date.

Good to be back.

2nd Greatest Film of All Time

I know this is a blog devoted to all things Hoosier Jones, but I've got to mention another film (not movie...film, a.k.a. cinema) that ranks right up there. This movi...film is one of the greatest cinematic experiences I've ever experienced. It is called Pootie Tang. Part indictment of white black perceptions, part indictment of corporate America, all hilarious, Pootie Tang is often shirtless, because he wears comedy like a fine Armani suit. If you have Netflix, put this film at the top. If you don't have Netflix, you aren't American. And therefore you won't understand the genius of Pootie Tang.

Do it. Rent it. Watch it. And then glory in the Pootie Tang. It is amazing. P.S. It is also Conan O'Brien's all time favorite movie. So don't just take my word for it. Because I know you won't.

oh hey

Hi Team Wedding,

As long as the married folk are giving accounts of their V-Days, I thought I'd chip in, so those about to be married and the others considering it will know that the flame never dies; it only grows stronger.

Our first Hallmark-manufactured China-produced holiday of love was spent necking. But that was after my wife discovered me lying in bed, having dipped myself hours earlier in a pool of warm, liquid chocolate, which hardened and remained like a full-body cast, save for my face, which was left exposed, so that she would know I wasn't some random chocolate encrusted dude in our bed.

Needless to say, she was astounded. Two hours of nibbling later, I was released of my cacao-noir prison and free to engage in one of the most strenuous acts of passion I'd ever experienced: we married ourselves in 21 distinct religious traditions. Hindu, Jewish, Muslim, Greek Orthodox....Ayamara Tinku-style, Polynesian mass wedding, Italian Mafia shotgun wedding, a marriage of convenience....a marriage of underage illegal immigrants, a Korean Lutheran wedding, two different forms of Japanese cultural rapist weddings (NB: cultural rapist) a butterfly wedding... a simulated space wedding, a music video wedding...that is just a sampling. It was testimony to the depth of our love that each ceremony felt like it was our first...and in each one our love grew deeper. You might say that it was the buzz from two hours of straight chocolate eating that gave us the stamina to get through it, but we were sustained by something more profound! The type of love that gets you through 22 marriages to one person never lets you down. I wish you all find someone someday with whom you can experience what I did, 21 times, in 21 different ways, last night.

You might ask: wouldn't 21 weddings be followed by 21 bouts of you know, hint hint, nudge nudge, wink wink? Actually, we had six people over for dinner after that. My wife cooked and at some point, I will clean. That too was amazing. I pray that you all know the pleasure of being married to someone 21 different ways and then having six people over for dinner, to a meal of chicken marsala and baked sweet mashed potatoes. Even if you don't spell potatoes like that, it will be the night of your life. At one point my wife dropped a glass and it shattered. It reminded me of our Jewish wedding, when we stepped on a glass and it broke. The memories came flooding back and I picked my lover up and twirled her around the kitchen. We were in our own little world. I told our guests that there was a fire in the apartment building and that we had to get out, get out get out now! I wasn't lying. The fire was inside and after they had fled without their coats the nudging and blinking began in earnest. And it continues even during the writing of this blog post. Nudge nudge, bat-bat-bat-bat-bat-bat.

So, any others? We'd love to hear what folks did to mark the day. Thanks,

The Marx Bros.

Labels: chicken marsala, chocolate body casts, kabuki dancing, llama raising, someone's mother

Hey All! I've decided its time to participate. "Indy" has been discussing valentine's day, which I have found pretty amusing. I think I find Valentine's day amusing on the whole. So I thought I'd share a few gems from my own first "married" valentines day.

*** NOTE: if you are shortround and are feeling sensitive, don't read any further***

As he mentioned, my hubbie (cant bring myself to call him Shortround, its just too funny) got me (read: us) two really amazing cookbooks. The nerd in each of us it really pleased (the book has several pages on the research it does testing out gillions of variations of each classic recipe and then finally gives the one it considers to be the best). In any case, I received these presents a few days early, because he got really excited about them and couldn't wait until valentine's day. This was great because we've gotten to try some recipes already. Example: we made pizza on Tuesday night. Unfortunately, we didn't take into consideration the time you need to let the dough rise. As a result, we ate dinner at midnight. Literally.

The bookstore is selling these fleece hockey helmets (winter hats), maybe you've seen them. I got one to give as my valentine's day gift. My husband looks like a "Rock'em Sock'em Robot" in it. I wish I could post a picture. Priceless. Also, I am eating my left over dessert from dinner last night for breakfast (you know what they say about turtle cheesecake........ breakfast of champions). I love being a student. It some how makes ridiculous behavior in numerous parts of my life seem acceptable.

SMALL WORLD

Ahh, Venice,

I drove by this place a few days ago and I thought...Ringa? why does that name sound familiar? Then suddenly I thought--Ringa! I doubt he'll be on the blog, but I thought he might get a kick out of this.

Thoughts for a valentines evening:

First, I love the new blog header-picture
Second, I apparently get really good reception off of my neighbors wireless in the bathroom, not that I am writing this in the bathroom (I am)
Third, I am disappointed in the lack of posting here, besides our trust leader short round and his trusty sidekick, old librarian
Furthermore, I had always believed Michigan to be a hardy state, until this winter, when they have repeatedly closed the public schools for almost not reason at all: there was maybe 4 inches this morning and every school district within a hundred miles canceled school – I think they’re trying to make up for their massive budget shortfall by cutting back on school $ by having less class days
Update: apparently I don’t get really good reception in the bathroom, cause although I’m showing 3 bars, my post won’t load, at least I can listen to the new Be Good Tonyas album in here: seriously, I don’t know how to post a music clip (perhaps OL or SR can tell me) but you all should listen to this
Finally, since school was canceled, o-town, and all other little kids out there, did not get to give away their little valentines today. Oh well, he’s gonna do it tomorrow; but I was thinking, what if some schools who canceled school today don’t exchange valentines? Think of all those kids who agonized over which valentine to give to whom, all for no purpose…not to mention the amount of money spent on the stupid little cards that get almost immediately thrown away: I read one estimate that said somewhere around $60 million gets spent on the stupid grade school paper valentines: what a colossal waste of money on a ridiculous invented holiday – or at least one that shouldn’t invade preschools and grade schools. Oh well, hope you all are enjoying a nice glass of wine with a loved one – mine is asleep, $%#^ med school

Labels: %$# med school, valentines=wasted $

Gilligan's Island as Sisyphean vision of Hell

Well, after discussing the problem I posed yesterday, here are the answers we came up with. Start with the obvious: pride, the father of all the deadly sins. There is no one on the island more proud than the Professor. The fact that he made everyone continue addressing him as "Professor" was enough to give it away. In addition, anyone who looks at two coconuts and says, "I think I'll go for a radio" is one cocky S.O.B.

After that, Lust is the next obvious one to place squarely on the sensual shoulders of everyone's favorite starlet, Ginger. In every episode she's trying to get a good look at the good old Prof's ivory tower, and consistently dresses for the part.

Next, sloth is pretty easily laid at the feet of Mrs. Howell, as she never lifts a finger to assist in any of the escape attempts.

Greed is pretty clearly Mr. Howell, as he is obsessed with his money and material comforts while stranded on an island where neither of them provide comfort of any kind.

Wrath clearly goes to the Skipper, as he is constantly enraged at his little buddy and hitting him with that ridiculous hat.

Envy only makes sense with Mary Ann, who is constantly trying to look as pretty as Ginger, but can never quite accomplish it.

That leaves gluttony. You might think that Gilligan is a natural fit, as he eats quite a bit. However, another interesting theory posits that the Skipper is both physicallly and metaphysically large enough to encompass two of the deadly sins, wrath and gluttony. This leaves Gilligan without a deadly sin of his own.

When you think about it, Gilligan was the one who got them all stranded. Each episode the other six are just about to get a plan that will finally get them off the island, only to have Gilligan unwittingly interfere and screw everything up. Someone argued that Gilligan is actually the devil and is there to make sure that no one ever gets off (out of) the island (hell). To top it all off, he always wears red.

Pretty interesting take on a rather innocuous show, in my opinion. Interested to hear other thoughts.

Well, now that's what you'd call ironic

What can you say?

The sad part is, this headline alone is probably enough to set any serious efforts back by 10 years.

happy valentine's day

Here's a racy little poem in celebration of the day, by Mr. The Road Less Traveled:

PUTTING IN THE SEED
By Robert Frost
You come to fetch me from my work to-night

When supper's on the table, and we'll see

If I can leave off burying the white

Soft petals fallen from the apple tree

(Soft petals, yes, but not so barren quite,

Mingled with these, smooth bean and wrinkled pea;)

And go along with you ere you lose sight

Of what you came for and become like me,

Slave to a springtime passion for the earth.

How Love burns through the Putting in the Seed

On through the watching for that early birth

When, just as the soil tarnishes with weed,

The sturdy seedling with arched body comes

Shouldering its way and shedding the earth crumbs.

I'm with stupid

So, I don't intend to take this blog over with sports talk, but the developments of the last few weeks deserve some discussion.

For those of you not following the Irish hoops team, we started the year off on fire, and have dropped off of late. As with last year, our ability to finish out the close games is suspect at best, although nonexistant might be the

better assessment. Considred a "lock" by several internet talking heads as recently as two weeks ago, most now list us as having "work left to do."

The fact is that everyone was drinking the Kool-Aid when we knocked off Alabama and Maryland, but even those are not that impressive anymore, as neither team is ranked at this point (Alabama is #25 in one poll, but may not last long there).

My point is that I was ready to believe that maybe Brey had turned a corner this year. For the first half of the season the team was playing aggressive defense and was pushing the ball inside down the stretch to close out games, rather than relying on shooting the outside shot. Now, at the end of games we surprise no one by giving it to our marquee player so that he can chuck up a desperation shot with two guys in his face only to have it bounce away harmlessly, which apparently has been our end of game plan since the days of Chris Thomas. Everyone knows it's coming and no one is fooled by it. And yet, at the end of every game, he pulls a stupid face, looks like he's constipated, and chalks up another loss to "That's just Big East basketball."

It is what it is, I suppose, but it'd also be an immense shame to squander such a promising start to a season by bowing out early of the Big East tournament and spending our postseason in the JACC in the early rounds of the NIT.

redaction

So in a somewhat prominent place (at least for people who would be reading this blog on a regular basis), I recently declared this blog all but dead to me - now that I've returned, I see that people are now using the new technology to add pictures and clips and all of a sudden, I'm converted - it seems that charlemagne will be able to amuse and entertain - unfortunately my corporate overlords probably won't smile on my watchin youtube clips all day - but its nice to know they're here. and the list of characters not likely to make the blog was legitimately funny - poor old knight guardian...700 years of celibacy=ouch.

Since tomorrow is Valentine's day, the wife and I took the little man to Target to purchase Valentines for his little friends at day care. Unsurprisingly, he chose Backyardigans ones. As we sat down to fill them out I had one of those sharp flashbacks to childhood - opening up the new box of transformer valentines and reading them all carefully, trying to tease out what, exactly, each message meant; which ones could be given to the boys in class, which ones were suitable for the unattractive girls - because as hurtful as it may be, there were unattractive third graders - and then agonizing over whether to give the very best valentine to julie warner or megan zwick (i went with julie, which turned out to be a mistake in the long run). O-man didn't seem to have the same angst, yet, although he did insist on giving himself his favorite Pablo card, so maybe he was ranking them in his own head.

Labels: 700 years of frustration, valentine's day

Damn that Ephialtes

Also checking to see if I can post a video - I have to say that I am more excited about the potential for this movie than many others. Thermopylae is definitely one of my favorite pieces of history, and this looks like it could be a very cool interpretation of that.

The Hell's Gilligans

Interesting assignment for my Jurisprudence class due tomorrow. Apparently we are to take this photo and assign to each of the individuals in it one of the seven deadly sins.

No one said anything about no collaboration, so any thoughts on it on which person corresponds to which sin?

The effects of drugs on spiders...

Just trying to figure out how to put youtube clips on the blog.
Did you know that Google owns blogger and youtube?
I'll post something more serious later on this week.

McG: How 'bout a clip of LCR?

Blizzard in the Bend

Well, it's snowing like crazy here in the Bend, and we are likely to get at least six inches by nightfall, with possibility of another six by morning. My plan for the evening . . . make good use of the stand mixer that Cole and I picked up over the weekend and make some homemade pizza. Sausage and bell pepper sounds particularly good.

Not to brag, but I feel like the most successful Valentine's Day present I've gotten in years has been this pair of cookbooks: The Best Recipe and Baking Illustrated. I have to say that both Nicole and I have been extremely impressed with how great they are. They go into fantastic detail about how to prepare the dishes and also identify all the mistakes that you can run into when preparing them, so that you won't make them. If you like cooking, I'd highly recommend them.

In other news, there was a huge natural gas leak on campus yesterday. Here are some pics of it.

Apparently the leak was all the way over by Hesburgh, and was substantial enough that I called in to NDSP concerned about a gas leak in Hayes-Healey or Crowley Music (on the walk from the law school to LaFun).

Hope all are keeping warm.

And Old Librarian, Esq.--I had seen a preview of that movie. I have to admit that I'm excited about it, but am of the opinion that the American public will soon come to the realization that Jon Heder is not all that funny. I was as big a fan of Napoleon Dynamite as the next guy, but his roles since then have not struck me as anything all that exciting.

IT'S LIKE ZOOLANDER ON ICE

http://www.bladesofglorymovie.com/

I SAID NO CAMELS!

Here are some characters that probably won't make it on to the blog...

Name: Fatty
Occupation: Scout
Astrological Sign: Aquarius

Interests: Playing the bugle
Alerting the Sheriff about smugglers
Constantly being out of breath

Name: Donovan
Occupation: Business Man
Astrological Sign: Gemini

Interests: Eternal Life
Advising people not to trust anybody
Betraying the trusts of others
Trusting the advice of my beautiful Austrian assistant
Drinking from ancient relics without considering the consequences
Definitely NOT shriveling up like a raisin (I can't stress that enough)

Name:Old Knight
Occupation: Being the last of three brothers who swore
an oath to find the Grail and to guard it
Astrological Sign: Libra

Interests: Waiting for over 700 years for another to challenge me
Being the the bravest and the most worthy
Criticizing the fashion of today's modern knights
Being disappointed about not being able to masturbate on account of
being in the presence of Holy Grail

Name: Mysterious Stranger
Occupation: Charming Adventurer
Astrological Sign: Aries

Interests: Searching for relics with posse
Inspiring idealistic youths to go in search of adventure
Giving away free hats

Name: Panama Hat
Occupation: Scoundrel
Astrological Sign: Sagittarius

Interests: Owning the Cross of Coronado
Giving my opinion as to what does and doesn't belong in museums
Wearing hats

Name: Indiana
Occupation: Family Dog
Astrological Sign: Leo

Interests: Barking
Playing scrabble
Having people named after me

Awful

This is a terrible idea, Dr. Jones, as it comes from you. Nonetheless, like a flaming zeppelin I can't help but watch it go down. So here's to you, Herr Jones. If persistence makes the world go round, you're certainly a moron.

Also, I tried autographing this blog...but I can't figure out how to do it. I've just marked up my laptop screen with pen. How does one autograph electronically? Damn this internet age. We should be burning books, not uploading them digitally so they last forever and cannot be marked by my name, which actually shall last forever.

See you around Berlin,

AH

Labels: bad ideas, scooters, your mom

Welcome back

Hello everyone and welcome back!

After Ricky managed to kill Cupcake Island, and Oak was going crazy at work, I figured it was time to get the gang back together and resurrect a blog, so here it is. I can't say that I'm entirely wedded to the whole Indiana Jones theme, but it could provide for some interesting characters so that none of us are required to use our own names. I chose mine both because he was perhaps the one saving grace in an otherwise terrible movie AND to prevent a certain future member from taking it and running rampant with it.

I actually set up a separate gmail account for my posting so there is no chance anything posted here can be traced back to me. Maybe I'm a bit paranoid, but it doesn't hurt anything, so if you would like to do the same, email me and I can help.

I'm also learning more about how to format this stuff, so hopefully before long we can put pictures up and whatnot. The interface is pretty familiar from before, and so things should be fairly easy to post.

Finally, here's a shot of the crazy snow we have gotten over the last few weeks, taken right outside the law school.

Seems like more and more just keeps piling up without any of it melting. The steps at Bond are ripe for sledding a couch down them.

Then I remembered my Charlemagne . . .

Wednesday, March 7, 2007

Very revealing

Monday, March 5, 2007

The Red Cleat Diaries

Monday, February 26, 2007

Eugene & Rusty in full effect

Saturday, February 24, 2007

I AM THE WALRUS

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Frisky Dingo

Kids Know Too Much

Kids Know Too Much

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

I'm Back

Saturday, February 17, 2007

2nd Greatest Film of All Time

Thursday, February 15, 2007

oh hey

SMALL WORLD

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

Thoughts for a valentines evening:

Gilligan's Island as Sisyphean vision of Hell

Well, now that's what you'd call ironic

happy valentine's day

I'm with stupid

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

redaction

Damn that Ephialtes

The Hell's Gilligans

The effects of drugs on spiders...

Blizzard in the Bend

IT'S LIKE ZOOLANDER ON ICE

I SAID NO CAMELS!

Monday, February 12, 2007

Awful

Sunday, February 11, 2007

Welcome back

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