Yes We Can Part 2

Tomorrow I will be making my second trip of the week to Invesco Field at Mile High.  This time, instead of watching Obama-mania, I will be cheering on my beloved Buffaloes as they face the Rams in this instate classic.  Despite CU's historic dominance of this match-up, in recent years the games have been close with several stunners and streaks on both sides.  In light of the parody of the last decade, a prediction is order.

While both sides have a lot of new faces, including the highly touted CU running back recruit, Darrell Scott, it is the Rams who have completely revamped their leadership with both a new head coach in Steve Fairchild and a new starting QB in Billy Faris.  The Buffs will have substantial advantage as coach Dan Hawkins has had three years to develop his program up in Boulder, while CSU will be starting a new chapter after the impressive 15-year tenure of Sonny Lubick.  In the end, I predict that, while both squads will struggle to stop the run, CU will defeat CSU 34-21 and Ralphie V will perform flawlessly in her official debut.

GO BUFFS!  YES WE CAN!!!

Yes We Can

After turning 18 on November 7, 2000, and having my first election experience occur on that birthday, I was extremely disappointed with the election of George Bush weeks later. Then as a senior again, this time in college, I again experienced the extreme disappointment of a George Bush win. These were not just defeats of Democratic Candidates, they were defeats of America's proud leadership and the esteem of our country. I was so disheartened by my experiences as a presidential voter that I feared no mater how dire the circumstances of our nation, voters would still vote for enlargement of the fortunes of the wealthy and perceived protection of the right to bear arms, keep gays single, and thump those bibles. Well tonight my mind may have been changed.

As the sun set on Denver and the DNC, the Democrats rocked Invesco Field at Mile High. I was fortunate to have avoided the mile long lines to get in the stadium, and when I arrived at the stadium after work at 5:15PM there were already tens of thousands in the stands. Sheryl Crow, Jill Biden, and Michelle Obama were all glamorous. Will.I.Am did not in fact try to adapt "I Got it From my Mama" into "I Got it From Obama," but instead performed "Yes We Can." (This video rocks! Scarlett Jo, Ashley from Fresh Prince, and Kareem are awesome.)

Invesco at Mile High

The political speakers were led by Susan Eisenhowser, Bill Richardson, and Al Gore. Mile High Stadium is first and foremost the home of the Denver Broncos, but before Obama made his appearance the stadium swelled to a near capacity crowd with over 80,000 attending; it was the largest group Invesco had ever seen. The wave surged around the stadium and pro Obama chants spontaneously burst out all evening.

Susan Eisenhowser

Bill Richardson

Al Gore

Finally, after the video introduction showing old family photos of Barack and his family, he appeared on stage and the crowd erupted. Flags waved and "Change" posters shook. The barrage of flashbulbs was blinding and never stopped throughout the entirety of Obama's speech. I sat in the South Stands, which any good Denverite will know is notorious for having the most die hard fans creating the most incredible raucous by stomping on the metal bleachers. The Obamaphiles did the South Stands proud as the noise was deafening during breaks in the speech and the ground was in constant motion.

Barack Obama

After Obama's final words, the crowd stood as one and then many were startled and elated as fireworks were launched around the stadium. Streamers streamed and confetti flew. It occurred to me for a moment that this celebration came to soon with so many months of hard work to come before the November election, but it was a wonderful week in Denver, with incredible political star power, and the Democrats deserved to celebrate and show their pride.

Firework Finale

I am an independent and have never participated in a caucus or primary, but I have long admired Barack Obama since he shockingly won the Illinois Senate seat, thanks in part to the sexual deviance of Jack Ryan. I worried that racial bias would hamper Barack's campaign, but so far I am encouraged by the massive support from people of seemingly all creeds. I think until tonight I had suffered an eight year political hangover as I have often wondered, can the Democrats snap this string of presidential disappointment?

Tonight I decided that this amazing dream ride of Obama may just come true and it is not because he is good enough. John Kerry and Al Gore were both great men and both had so much more potential than George Bush will ever have in terms of leadership, intelligence, and courage. But they lost because the question is not "can he do it?" As Obama said tonight in his speech: "... I stand before you tonight because all across America something is stirring. What the naysayers don't understand is that this election has never been about me; it's about you."

The question really is "can we do it?" I did not realize until tonight just how infectious the Obama spirit of change truly is, but it moved 80,000+ people in that stadium tonight and probably millions more over the airwaves. Barack is worthy of the job but the question is "can we do it?" I have decided to believe once again "YES WE CAN!"

I Got It From Obama

I am headed to Obama with political and musical guests. I hope that will.i.am sings "I got it from Obama." Pictures later.

The Red Scare and the Roads to Redemption

Red Scare

Last night marked the close of a spectacular Olympic Games. The competition saw the United States dominate in the pool, in large part thanks to Michael Phelps and Natalie Coughlin, the US showed guts in gymnastics against 14-year-old Chinese girls, and they crushed team sports in anything that required no more synchronization than volleyball. With China footing a bill totally more than $40 billion, the venues, opening and closing ceremonies, and Chinese athletic performances all met and exceeded expectations.

The world view seems to be that the gold medal count is all that matters, while the American view, in this case a self-serving one, is that overall medal count carries the day. My solution is to weight the medals to determine the most dominant Olympic nation. Gold would count three points, silver two, and bronze medals one. The Chinese won 51 gold medals, 21 silver, and 28 bronze for a total of 100 medals. The United States won 36 gold medals, 38 silver, and 36 bronze medals. Under my weighted point system China edged the United States in the medals by a count of 223 medal points for China to 220 medal points for the United States. While some might find weakness or fault adopting my point scheme, or the view of gold medal count carrying the day, the United States still made a proud showing in my opinion. The Chinese demonstrated they are willing to put virtually unlimited resources into Olympic athletics while having one fifth of the world's population to select athletes from. Whether the "Red Scare" of Chinese dominance arrived this year, or whether four years from now the Chinese will surge to the outright medal count, the United States has plenty of achievements to savor from Beijing.

Roads to Redemption

There were at least two fantastic American Tales of redemption that unfolded this August. First, there was Michael F. Phelps. There may never have been greater expectations for an athlete than to think that they could achieve 8 gold medals in a single Olympics. To perform under that kind of pressure is almost unthinkable and people may easily forget that Phelps has now had to endure it twice.

In 2004, it was speculated that Michael Phelps could possibly achieve 8 gold medals in Athens, but he came away with 6 gold and 2 bronze. That 6 gold medals could be a disappointment is truly a tribute to the awesomeness of Spitz's record, but it made Phelp's performance this year all the more miraculous. This year in the "Water Cube" Phelps was on a record breaking tear, but the two most incredible races had little to do with world record speeds and everything to do with out-touching opponents by hundredths of a second.

In just Phelp's second final of the Olympics, the men's 4x100 relay, Phelp's hopes for 8 golds were almost shattered as Alain Bernard held a substantial lead after the turn into the last 50-meters, but Jason Lezak anchored the fastest 100-meter split in history and edged the French by .08 of a second. At the time I thought the comeback was even more amazing than two Americans tying for the gold medal in the Sydney Olympic's 50-meter freestyle, but that was before I saw Phelps race the 100-meter butterfly.

Phelps may be the greatest swimmer ever, but he is not the greatest sprinter, which makes the 100-meter butterfly a risky race for him. In the Olympic final, Phelps trailed out of the flip turn with only 50-meters left to make up ground. While Serbia's Milorad Čavić tried to coast to gold off of his last stroke, Michael Phelps took an extra half stroke that stung the wall less than .01 of a second before Čavić and shocked the entire aquatic center. Phelps' mom was in disbelief as she held up two fingers anticipating a second place finish for her son, the Serbians were outraged even after video review to the 1/10,000 demonstrated that Phelps in fact touched first, and the United States rejoiced as the win matched Spitz's 7 gold medals and paved the road to 8.



Now a heated debated rages as to whether Phelps is the greatest Olympian ever, which is such a complicated mess that I recommend taking the easy way out and say that quantitatively, by medals in a single Olympics, Phelps is the greatest Olympian beyond any contestation. For everyone that was convinced that Spitz's record of 7 gold medals in a single Olympics would ever be matched, let alone surpassed, and for anyone that doubted Phelps had the heart to achieve 8 gold medals after the 2004 failure, may Michael Phelps forever be redeemed in your eyes.

Then there was the squad so in need of a gold medal to silence its critics that the US Men's National Basketball team was known as the "Redeem Team" this year. These high expectations were started when in the 1992 Olympics the United States decided it was time to send professional players from the NBA. This decision was spurred on by the hugely controversial loss to the Soviets in 1972 and another close loss to the same opponent in 1988. The US defended its basketball honor in Barcelona with the most talented group of players ever to play on a single team. Jordan, Bird, Magic, Sir Charles, Pippen, Clyde the Glide, The Admiral David Robinson, Ewing Senior, the Mailman Karl Malone, Stockton, Mullin, and Laettner. The team won by an average of nearly 44 points a game and coach Daly never once took a time out.

The US teams continued to be called the "Dream Team" in subsequent Olympics and World Championships, but the aura of invincibility faded until the United States suffered an embarrassing loss in the 2002 World Championships that resulted in players fearing embarrassment in Athens which led to an underpowered Olympic effort and a bronze medal in 2004. The bottom line is that after nations around the globe watched the 1992 Dream Team in awe, there youth decided to play basketball and just one generation later national teams that had been playing together for years were ready to compete with the US. Putting together a quadrennial all-star team was simply not good enough to compete anymore. Thus, the United States made players buy in for a three year commitment to playing summers together and staked their claim for a return to dominance in Beijing.

As the "Redeem Team" took the floor, the large margins of victory of the 1990's returned and the high flying acts of King James, Kobe, Dwayne Wade, and Mello awed crowds. Paul, Kidd, Bosh, and the rest of the team played solidly in support. Anyone who did not watch the final game against Spain may think this team almost folded when the lead was cut to two points late in the game, but the truth is that it was one of the ugliest basketball games I have ever seen and yet the United States never relinquished control as it willed its way to victory. Early in the game officials blew the whistles constantly, destroying defensive continuity, inflating the score, and wreaking havoc on lineups with only 5 fouls to give per player. Then in the second half the whistles stopped and the Spanish physicality set in. With the ridiculous moving screens, which are really just elbows to the back of the head, and with Marc Gasol just clearing the lane by shoving people from the paint and knocking Bosh to the floor, the Spanish got back in the game. When Kobe converted a four-point play and put his finger to his lips to taunt silence, I would have usually, under normal circumstances, been annoyed by his gall, but the way the Spaniards aggressively attacked the US in the second half of that game, Kobe was completely vindicated.

This team not only won, they did it with class and style. They stepped atop the podium together, they all lent their medals to Coach K for a photo op, and they had the twelve brightest smiles I have ever seen from grown men. They were not the "Dream Team" as these players were still doubted by critics everywhere, they overcame adversity and doubt and they showed that even today's finest NBA players can fit into a team concept. The were the "Redeem Team", and they represented this great nation proudly.

Scotty Doesn't Know

I am in my mid 20's and maybe I should have matured beyond my enjoyment of risqué music, but I just cannot help but be amused by lewd and unsophisticated lyrics about sex and debauchery.

This week, while internet surfing to the myspace page of the local sports bar with my friend visiting from Chicago looking on, a new melody with these childish words hit our ears: "Scotty doesn't know that Fiona and me do it in my van every Sunday!" My friend and I were both thoroughly amused and listened to the song in its entirety and then replayed the lyrics about Fiona pseudo-cuckolding, without the nuptial relationship, poor Scotty.

My friend and I, upon hearing the song, immediately thought back to 2003 when I had first discovered the music video for Custom's song, Hey Mister, a minor pop rock sensation about the band leader defiling some poor bastards daughter while he "eats her like ice cream, maybe dip[s] her in chocolate." I had unwittingly downloaded the music video from a p2p client while trying to build up a computer collection of music videos. As I watched the scenes of the girl's body being scribbled on with marker, drawing the lyrics in the sand with a stick, pulling slow motion rewind doughnuts in a Ferrari, and seeing the white bikini bottoms with "Hey Mister !" written on with marker, I could not help but wonder who made this piece of crap video.

I immediately sent the video to my friend and simply asked, "Is this the official Custom video or was this piece of crap made by some film students just screwing around." We both set to the task of researching the custom video on the internet and decided that it was the official video after visiting Custom's website to find that bikini bottom panties with "Hey Mister !" written on them were actually for sale from the website. Further confirmation came when we discovered a college journalist's school newspaper review of the video condemning it for being such a considerable piece of shit. The song was obscene, the video was horrible, and my friend and I both totally dug it.

So naturally, after hearing Scotty Doesn't Know by Lustra, we both wanted to know if the song had a craptacular video to accompany it. We were far from disappointed. A visit to youtube yielded a scene from the movie Eurotrip for which the song had in fact been created. For some completely inexplicable reason, Matt Damon is the star of the scene as he appears with a shaved head, more piercings than a classroom at Naropa, and a large neck tattoo. Damon is the lead singer of the band, and also happens to be the one who has been banging Fiona for quite some time as he says "happy anniversary baby" when Fiona joins him on stage to sing Scotty Doesn't Know. Damon really gets into it with plenty of wild gestures and trills into the microphone, but it is obvious from the 3 minute 32 second video that Eurotrip is tremendous piece of garbage; which we of course immediately confirmed by watching Eurotrip in its entirety right then and there.

Despite the five year gap between discovering these two master pieces of music and film, I clearly have maintained my appetite for the vulgar. I could try to always act like the sophisticated grown up professional that I play on work days, but enjoying simple lyrics about promiscuity with a friend is just for fun and hopefully still somewhat age appropriate.

Obamanaut Heads to Denver

The Democratic National Convention rolls into Colorado next and tightwad conservatives all over the metro area are complaining. "The leftist media spurns McCain and only focuses on Obama." "Obama is an elitist." And my favorite complaint of all: "The traffic will be horrible let's head for the hills."

First off, complaining about media slants is like having an argument about if someone counted to six or half a dozen. If you like hearing Dan Rather do the news, listen to Rather. If you prefer Sean Hannity or Rush Limbaugh, then get news content from them. Sure people perceive political leanings, but news sources are in near infinite supply online, on television, on the radio, or even still in print, so get your news from whatever source you prefer and shut up about slants.

Secondly, some people may consider that Obama's prevalence in the media and current momentum to be because of a biased media frenzy, but those people should consider that it may actually be because Obama participated in a primary race. Obama had to run against the Clinton machine while McCain breezed through the joke that was the Republican primary with the major competition coming from the likes of Mitt Romney and Ron Paul. Somehow stories about McCain running against NO ONE did not have the appeal of reporting on actual campaigns, debates, and election results.

As for all this business about elitists, the presidency has been a position for privileged old white men for more than two-hundred years now. Our incumbent president comes from a wealthy oil family in Texas and was handed baseball teams and oil companies to manage before getting into politics, and yet Obama has been the one who gets nailed with the "elitist" catch phrase. If Obama speaking out against the voting habits of gun happy Americans, the bible belt, and rural America in general makes him an elitist then I guess I am one too. Of all of the American people who have not been earning an annual income over six figures in their household and voted red in 2004 and 2008 how many of them are really better off today than they were eight years ago?

Back to the local perspective, for those in the Denver metro that are crapping their pants over DNC traffic and making plans to spend the week visiting the Kobe Bryant suite in Eagle County, enjoy your time in the mountains, but know that events like National Conventions are part of being a world class city. Despite the persistent fight against decent public transit in Denver waged by all of the automobile lovers, light rail will be coming to the greater metro area over the next seven or eight years. Imagine if we had just started the project seven or eight years sooner. Public transit would be there to carry the burden of bringing large events to Denver and working class everywhere could hop on a light rail car instead of getting gouged at the $4 a gallon pump on a weekly basis. Maybe one day soon Denver will have decent mass transit and be able to host large events without Coloradans freaking and, like the Pinocchio of metropolises, Denver can declare "Now I'm a real city!"

Finally, I should not stop without saying that Obama's meteoric rise is inspiring. The undermining of the media, Obama's background, and the DNC itself is a tribute to the fear that Obama already inspires in the hearts of his opponents. I am only in my 20's and lack the perspective to appreciate the political climates of decades gone by, but I know that I feel a desperate need for change under the leadership of a transcendent figure. Is Obama the one? The DNC is the perfect opportunity for Denver to try to find out.

Whining Is Not An Olympic Sport

I have loved the Summer Olympic Games my entire life.  I can still remember watching Greg Louganis win gold twice in 1988 when I was just five years old. I remember the dominance of the Dream Team in Barcelona, as the US put forth as dominant a performance as the world has ever seen with the greatest collection of basketball players ever to grace a single team. In 1996, I was 13 and had a serious crush on the entire US women's gymnastic team, particularly the two Dominiques, as they gutted out victory. Four years later, I watched the the swimming competitions that were the trademark of the Sydney games. Australian Ian Thorpe dominated with his size 17 feet and American Amy Van Dyken showed longevity by following up four gold medals in Atlanta with two more in Sydney. However, the ultimate highlight came when Americans Gary Hall Jr. and Anthony Ervin tied for Gold in the Men's 50 freestyle, a race where the entire final field competes down to the tenths of a second. In 2004, while track and field bogged down in the midst of the ever present BALCO/performance enhancing drug freak out, my Olympic experience was saved by my discovery of the fairly new competition of women's beach volleyball. Not only were there beautiful athletes competing in bikinis, but the American teams of Kerri Walsh and Misty May and Holly McPeak and Elaine Youngs kicked ass bringing home gold and bronze medals respectively. With so much drama, courage, international intrigue, and even plenty of sex appeal who would not look forward to this quadrennial event?

The answer appears to be that plenty of people are ready to rant, rave, and bitch about the Olympics. China has spared no efforts in preparing for a fantastic summer spectacle. The venues are incredible. With the "Water Cube" hosting indoor aquatics, and the "Bird's Nest" hosting ceremonies and track and field, China has constructed the greatest competitive facilities since the Roman's built the Colosseum. But negative press has plagued these games for years now with concerns of security, food safety, and pollution. Food safety! Really people, we have even had the Olympics in London before and the competition was not ruined by food issues then.

Then there are the boycotts over human rights issues in China. Are there complex, compelling, and important issues at work with situations such as the Chinese occupation of Tibet? Absolutely. Is China's Olympic coming out party the proper forum for the world nations to speak out? Absolutely not. Attacking young women with fire extinguishers to show support for Tibet is as bogus as calling the Janet Jackson and Justin Timberlake Super Bowl performance a wardrobe malfunction. The Olympics are an opportunity to embrace the joining of nations in peaceful competition and the boycotts of the past and present are pissing wars that deprive worthy athletes of the opportunity to compete. Chose other channels to conduct diplomatic efforts and let China have its moment in the sun.

Finally, I am sick of the sports writers who whine about the Olympics. I am a frequent viewer of ESPN programming including their talk show circuit, and I am appalled to hear several sport writers, who are heading to Olympics, bemoan their journey to China and the games themselves. These writers have an amazing cultural opportunity to spend time in the orient while simultaneously watching the most massive spectacle in all of sports. Stop all the bitching. Whining is not an Olympic sport and journalists should show some dignity and perform their jobs with at least as much professionalism as the 16-year-olds on the gymnastics team.

The Olympics have been a measuring stick for my life. I have snap shots in my mind of what I was doing every four years in late summer and who I was spending time with to watch the Olympic games. It is a time for nationalism without war and the highest level of athletic achievement. My excitement for this years games cannot be extinguished by the controversy and journalistic uproar. Let the games begin and let's R.O.C.K. in the U.S.A.!

Consider Yourself Defiled

If you ask someone who has seen Californication, “What’s it about?” chances are they will tell it is about T and A and the sexual exploits of Hank Moody. And for some people, that is a bad thing. There are plenty of David Duchovny haters out there and there are plenty of other people that reject the parade of bare breasts and rolls in the sheets. This is a great show, and not just for lovers of breasts and fornication. I implore you to recognize Hank Moody as a 21st century antihero.

On August 13, 2007, Showtime premiered Californication in its primetime lineup. We meet Hank Moody in a dream sequence. Not the traditional crappy TV dream sequence where Cliff Huxtable dreams that he and the other Cosby Show men are pregnant or Pam dreams that Bobby gets run over by Katherine Wentworth. This is the kind of dream sequence where the protagonist walks into a church, puts out his cigarette in the holy water, and has a nun throw herself upon him. As the scene shifts back to reality, Hank finds himself in a stranger’s bed being awoken by the women who was the nun in his dream. As the woman explains her husband’s lack of prowess in the bedroom the angry spouse arrives home and we get the first of many great one-liners from Hank. “I’ll just hide under your clit. He’d never find me there.” Hank escapes in his defiled Porsche convertible as the husband breaks out a headlight with a baseball bat and the Rolling Stones blare as the opening soundtrack.

The dream sequence works so well, because the world of Hank Moody is far from reality. Hank is in a rut where he is a virtual spectator in his own life as the world around him swims and every unavailable woman in California seems to flock to him while the only women he really cares about are his common law ex, Karen, and daughter, Becca. The metaphor of the dream sets up a theme for the entire first season as we wait for Hank to wake up and rescue Karen and Becca.

While some consider Californication’s depiction of sex to verge on pornography, the truth is that casual sex on television is as commonplace today as the soufflé humor of the sitcoms of yesteryear and the intriguing part is more Hank’s casual laidback lifestyle than it is the sex. Any guy, manslut or not, has to admit a certain fascination with Hank’s sexual lifestyle, but it is his ability to just not give a damn that I truly envy. Hank does not work. He sleeps, drinks, and smokes all day long in between sessions of sex with beautiful women. He has a fancy foreign convertible that he constantly trashes. He loves the sound of records and hates modern art, blogs, and “dial-tones.” Hank is a badass who beats up jerks that answer their phone in the movie theater and puts out cigarettes on pedophilic teachers. His greatest weakness lies in his pants. He cannot resist the urge to “drown himself in a sea of pointless pussy” and punches or knees to the junk are his only kryptonite in a fight. While Hank is anything but altruistic, you cannot help but root for him as bizarre situations seem to come to him just as much if not more than he ever pursues them.

My favorite scene from the entire first season comes in episode nine. Hank is driving home frustrated after a spat with Karen where she tells him she will not read his new book. Hank stops for a woman in the road who asks for directions and, for once, instead of ending up sleeping with the woman Hank’s new Porsche gets carjacked by her boyfriend. As the boyfriend threatens Hank out of the car, he pleads just to get the sole transcript of his new book from the passenger seat but to no avail. Stunned for a moment Hank watches as they speed off. Then he shrugs it all off, lights up a cigarette, and walks home.

Every day the real world seems more uptight. Everything must be better, faster, and stronger. We have to protect the world from global warming, fix corporate fraud, and defend the world against terror. We are drones to alarm clocks and schedules. The 21st century hero may be ready to cope with all of these challenges, along with the perfect home with a wife and 2.5 kids, but when I watch Californication I think of a world where Hank's imperfection has its own perfection. Hank’s promiscuity contrasts his faithfulness to Karen before she left him. Hank’s hatred of blogs and internet chat language contrasts his fondness of good writing and timely quips. Hank does not rage or curse when his new car and book drive away because it would completely contradict his casual and unconcerned nature. It is perfectly dignified and I admire it.

For 30 minutes while I watch an episode of Californication I completely forget about trying to get ahead in the world. I want to be the antihero. I just sit there and wish that I would just shrug it all off, light up a cigarette, and walk home.