February 17th, 2006

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I Also Often Get Strange Looks . . . And Not Just Because Of How I Look.

Bryant Gumbel may not like the Winter Olympics, but I do. As should every red blooded American.

Even though we started off on such a bad foot, this year. Quitting, injuries, and poor performances were simply the American Way, it seemed, at the start of this year's Winter Olympics. But who cares about any of that?

I'm here to talk about figure-skating.

All of the following comments are sure to label me as girly but I care not (that one will, too, for grammar alone).

I enjoy the physical effort of figure skating. I enjoy the music. I enjoy the artistry. I'm not actually watching the Winter Olympics this year because I haven't the time, what with this thing and trying to break into publishing seriously, and other things.

But if I were, I would take the time to never miss a performance . . . on ice.

For a while, I'd never miss a special. It got to the point where I could differentiate between Scott Hamilton and Kurt Browning, and if you have no idea what I mean by that, you don't know figure-skating!

I got fed up by the sheer pomposity of Brian Boitano, and was sickened by Tara Lipinsky's complete robbery of the gold medal from Michelle Kwan. To this day, Kwan has yet to win a gold, and her groin injury means that she'll be thirty by the next winter games, and possibly out of the running.

By now, only women are reading, the men having tuned out the way they do when women talk shoe-shopping. That's all right. I am comfortable in my masculinity. Because I seem not to have any.

If I lived in a cooler clime, I may have become a figure skater for all of three minutes, surely giving myself an even deeper and more sophisticated appreciation for just how difficult what they do is. It's like, what if football (that's American, or Real Football that I mean) were as much a singular performance as a competitive team sport. What if judges were required to determine whether that touch down was only worth 4 points, or the full 6. If that extra point should be a whole or half-point.

Some may think that it would turn football into an even greater (or, more accurately, larger) spectacle than it is now. But to them I say, the judges would get quickly sick of show-boating, too. Look at the history of Victor Petrenko, and the only reason he won a gold at the Olympics? Because a better skater had a worse day than him.

Aaron "The Mad Whitaker" Bourque
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And? I Get My Music From Local Radio. Weep For Me!

I'm poor.

In the first post in this journal, I mention being bankrupt. That isn't to say that I've filed for bankruptcy to avoid having to pay all of my debts to collectors. I mean, yeah, I have. But also, it means I literally am rupt in the bank.

Which sounds dirty.

. . .

Anyway, I have no money of my own. I mooch off of my parents. Yes, laugh. I'm one of those, a nerd on a computer in his parents' basement. Except, I live in southern Louisiana, so no basement. HA! I WIN!

We have no cable. We have poor, old computers with too little memory and too slow a processor, each. I treat a bookstore like a library. One reason I burn with a passion to write is because, hey: good writers tend to not be poor. They go through a hard life beforehand, accumulating experiences, filters through which they can view the world, unique perspectives, what-have-you. A voice. A tone.

Something to say.

If you've read from the beginning, then you know I can only say I have something to say with utmost irony.

I've been out of the state a couple, three times. I've lived on my own for the briefest of times. I've got experience. Perspectives, what-have-you. They're not Ernest Hemingway-level experiences, sure. But, I'm Poor.

Wow, this took a turn far away from where I intended, so I should try to wrap up. I've just got to make a small point, first. If you think I was too whiney or emo in my previous paragraphs, ignore me. Or forgive me. Or pay me. Whatever you want to do.

I only rarely get to watch cable television, and even then, it's only basic cable. I baby-sit for my brother and his wife, they've got two boys. Since I'm poor and have no job, I am ideal for spending days with the kids. It's not like I've got anywhere to be. I sleep over Tuesday through Thursday. So the best programs on basic cable? Battlestar Galactica, and the like? I miss them. They're either on too late, or on days that I'm not around, as far as I can tell.

But that's okay, because sometimes, I get to see BSG. On rare occasions, my brother also has to work monday nights, when Sci-Fi Channel re-runs it. And then I can glory in the beauty and usually-well-craftedness of a BSG episode.

But Justice League? Or Justice League Unlimited? The good animes on Cartoon Network? Them I must miss.

Hey, I've got kids to watch early in the morning. Two really cute kids, who are related to me by blood. Who love me unconditionally, like my baby sis.

I am so rich.

Aaron "The Mad Whitaker" Bourque