NOTE: This unfortunate moment of personal drivel has been moved to a more appropriate place. We apologize for the inconvenience.
Category: Current Events (page 83 of 91)
I’m running a bit behind today. And not because of the pictured train.
No, in fact, the train might be my salvation in a variety of ways. The commute from Lansdale to Doylestown was no picnic during the lunch hour, and I suspect in morning or evening it wouldn’t be much better. My current commute is rage-inducing enough on some days, I can’t imagine taking a route that’s more circuitous with the same kind of drivers on the road.
So, I think it’s time to invest in a SEPTA pass and hop on the daily train. There are several advantages to this change, which I’ll happily list here.
Fewer Expenses
At $69 per month, the Intermediate Two-Zone Pass (which is all I need since I’m not going into the city at this point) might seem like a large expenditure up front. However, that’s about two full tanks of gas, to say nothing of wear & tear on the engine. Also, while taking the train there’s no temptation to stop at a Dunkin’ Donuts or a Taco Bell or a Bob’s Greasy Unhealthy Meatburger Shack. That means it’s not only less expensive overall, but also healthier, and not just for me…
Greener
Along with the usual seething at people acting like jerkasses on the road, especially those in fancy cars that for some reason can only pass on the right (despite it being illegal in PA) and never seem to have working headlights, when you sit at a stop light or in traffic, you’re pumping more waste into the atmosphere. That isn’t the case with a train. It can sit at a station until the cows come home, it’s not emitting anything terribly wasteful. Sure, some bad gasses might be coming from the power plant that provides the locomotive with juice, but if I’m not sitting in traffic, I’m not adding to the problem, now am I?
More Time To Write
Ah, the big one. The one I’m really looking forward to. I spend the better part of an hour commuting every day. That length of time was only looking to get longer with the move. However, when taking the train, I’m not responsible for my transportation. The engineer, bless ’em, makes the train move and keeps their eyes on the track. That leaves me free to jot down notes, lay out the course of conversations, and maybe even write entire passages, if I should get my hands on a keyboard for the Palm I unearthed in our cleaning & packing procedure. It’s likely to be a lot less expensive than a new netbook, and much more portable than my current laptop jalopy.
Very Little Bad News
My schedule will be a bit more dictatorial in terms of when I can leave the apartment, how long I can stay on the typical work day, and needing to handle things in the middle of the day, which sometimes might require me to take the car. However, in the long run, it seems to me that the pros of this change of commute far, far outweigh the Khans cons.
I know it’s May 4th, so may the Force fourth be with you. I miss the original Star Wars, with its somewhat whimsical outlook, the simplicity of the special effects and the charm & chemistry of the cast. There was life to it, once. But I won’t bore you with the fanboyish lamentations of my abused childhood. Not when other people are doing it better than I ever could.
Like Mr. Plinkett, for example.
Busy day so far.
Today’s Free Comic Book Day and holy crap are there a lot of free comics to be had. I’ve only managed to get through about ten of the thirty-odd offerings I plucked from the shelves of Cyborg One in Doylestown late this morning. Once I finish them all some time tomorrow I’ll be able to provide you all with an after-action report.
My better half and I are attending a friends’ game night over in Chesterbrook this evening. She was looking for a bit of a pick-me-up and said, “You know what I’d like? Bawls.” The usual jokes involving Bawls in one’s mouth ensued. I double-checked the drink’s website, and apparently Bawls is sold at 7-Eleven and Target.
Except in Horsham.
I went to 7-Eleven. No Bawls there.
I dropped by Acme. No Bawls to be had there, either.
Target didn’t have any Bawls.
Even Genuardi’s showed a complete lack of Bawls.
None of these stores have any Bawls.
…Okay, I’ve probably milked that joke enough. Point is, that’s where I’ve been all day. Still managed to bang out ~2k words on Citizen this morning, though.
So packing, comics and possibly more coming your way tomorrow. Same Blue time, same Blue channel.
Today’s one of those days where I just have to admit: “Yeah, I got nothin’.”
I know there are some out there who believe that there’s no point in putting up a blog post if it’s not going to be about anything significant. I try to post every day, but I don’t operate under the impression that everything I say is going to carry deep meaning. Not every brick that drops out of the sphincter of my mind is going to be a golden one. Mostly I do it to maintain some sort of readership/following. So if you’re still here, thanks for putting up with me. I know I can be a pain.
The only thing of true significance concerning this rather dreary Monday is the fact that I’m going to be increasing my daily word goal in the Project to 1250. If I can get at least that many in per day, with that amount being 1% of my total projected word count, I can reasonably predict when I might finish, set a deadline and adjust my pace accordingly. Thankfully, I don’t think this general miasma under which I’m operating today will extend to how things will be this evening. I’ll change into comfortable clothes, pour myself a drink and try to get a bit further in the current scene. I want to make sure things gel properly.
Open forum time, folks. Those of you who are bloggers – what do you do when you feel you’ve nothing to blog about? Do you mine your site stats for search terms? Do you put down a stream of consciousness exercise? Do you just not bother?
Your thoughts, give them to me.
I’ve never considered myself a huge sports fan, let alone a football hooligan. To me, a lot of the passion has been bled out of professional sports. There’s too much emphasis on being a showman, on selling the seat tickets, on the drama surrounding the sport. I didn’t think there was all that much to get excited about. I call myself a Steelers & Phillies fan, but I’m more the kind of fan to follow up on highlights via the Interweb after a game than to drive to the stadium to buy overpriced refreshments and spend two hours waiting for something exciting to happen.
Then, my friend & co-worker Mike invited me to join him for the home opener of the Philadelphia Union.
Sometimes, it’s really cool to be wrong.
The Philadelphia Union wasn’t created by the city solely as a bid to bring in more income. It’s not just a publicity stunt. It’s something the people want. The Union wouldn’t exist without the efforts of a grass-roots fan-based organization, the Sons of Ben. These guys got together in 2007, when the rumors were hinting at Philadelphia being considered to host a new Major League Soccer team. Apparently, the League needed to be convinced that there were enough soccer fans in Philadelphia to justify a team, and that it was something Philadelphia wanted. The response from the Sons of Ben was, “Hell yes we want it!”
Now the Sons of Ben exist to support the Union. It’s odd to be in the stands of a sporting event and feel simultaneously like a hooligan and a patriot. But Philadelphia’s culture is steeped in the history of the Revolution, and the Sons of Ben are keenly aware of that, if their logo is any indication. Likewise, the Union’s slogan of “Jugite aut Perite”* – Join or Die – indicates that the history of the city and the role it plaid in our nation’s founding have not been forgotten. A lot of football clubs have “United” as a part of their name, probably because they came about as an amalgamation of various smaller clubs. Manchester, D.C., the list goes on. The Union might be a confusing name to some, but to me, it makes perfect sense and really fits the atmosphere of the club and sport.
Provided I can find a way to afford it – magicking money into existence out of the nether or something – in Union home games to come I hope to find myself in the Sons of Ben section. I met a few members last night (as well as discovering the aforementioned Mike is a member) and was impressed with how polite they were. To me, at least. The Sons of Ben make no bones about their goals – “The Sons of Ben do all we can to make sure our section, home or away, is the most exciting place to watch a game and the most intimidating thing the other team has ever seen.” That said, there’s a simple Code of Conduct members are expected to follow that show respect for the other team and the refs while still letting voices be heard. I really dig that. To me, it’s one thing to be a fan; it’s another to hold yourself to a higher standard than others who call themselves fans but do things like hurl empty beer cans and racial epithets towards the players.
I had a blast last night. I’m looking forward to doing it again. If this is what it means to be a football hooligan, I’m all for it; I just need to learn a few songs, wear more light blue and find a way to acquire a scarf. Maybe take up knitting.
EDIT: Apparently it should be “Iungite aut Perite” according to Latin-savvy academics.
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