I miss nature.

I miss the hell out of it.  Being a small town girl (living in a lonely world), I sometimes feel out of place here.  I walk outside and there are streetlights.  And traffic noise.  And thumping bass.  Sometimes I just want to pack a bag and get out of dodge.

One thing I really like about Metro Detroit is that there’s a lot to do.  Detroit isn’t so dirty and scary as the media makes it out to be, and there’s no shortage of awesome restaurants, bars, shopping (if you’re into that sort of thing), etc.  It is quite the buzzing metropolis.  I can get pretty much anywhere I need to go in a matter of minutes.

Here’s the huge drawback: I can get anywhere I need to go in a matter of minutes.  And so can everyone else.  I can’t spread my arms out without bumping into someone.  Sometimes it feels cramped and I get a little stir crazy.

I attempted to take a walk this evening.  On a crisp evening, sometimes I just can’t sit still; and there’s something so calming and peaceful about being outside.  Especially at night, the world becomes something completely different.  Everything is so silent and still, and part of me thinks the dark and quiet should be scary, but for the most part it’s nothing but an incredible rush.  Nature is a gift; a living, breathing wilderness and nothing makes me feel more alive.

Enter a car horn and a neighbor yelling at their dog.  I snapped out of my reverie immediately.

I miss being able to go somewhere without people crammed in like sardines.  I miss the woods, their untamed wild beauty.  I miss being able to look up and see the stars instead of streetlights.  I miss hearing just the sound of the wind through the trees, instead of 900 people driving down Haggerty Rd.  I miss it so much, I ache for it.

The woods at night in winter are magic.  One of the most beautiful places I could place myself.  Michigan has so much to offer someone like me, someone who needs to be outside instead of cooped up all the time.  I just wish I lived closer to it, and someday I hope to have it in my backyard.  I would love nothing more than to have acres of land in the country and a tractor to mow my lawn.

Maybe I should strongly consider moving back to the west side of the state.

Zambonis, Kleenex, and the Cotton Gin

Last night, while witnessing the Red Wings loosen their grip on the Stanley Cup (in triple overtime, no less), I decided that one of the coolest jobs on earth would be the Zamboni driver for NHL games.

Think about it. What unrecognized importance! What an unsung hero! Who else would keep the ice so nice and smooth and shiny-like? The poor players would surely trip over their own skates at all of the ice’s imperfections. Not only that, but you get to drive a big machine around, and I’ll be honest, I love big machines. Zambonis are like the riding lawn mowers of Canada.

This, then, got me wondering about the name “Zamboni.” Is it a brand name? Is it the name of the actual machine? Was it invented by some guy named, like, Joe Zamboni?

Maybe it’s something like the Kleenex phenomenon. Kleenex, as we know, is a brand of tissue. But most people, myself included, don’t say, “Please pass me a tissue.” They say, “Please pass me a Kleenex.” When in fact, the brand of “Kleenex” could be something other than Kleenex entirely. It could be Puffs or Angel Soft or Wal-Mart brand. Maybe people refer to the Zamboni as a Zamboni, when it’s really a John Deere or something.

Or maybe it isn’t proper ice rink etiquette to use a brand other than Zamboni. Maybe only real Zambonists (I assume that’s what they call people who drive the Zambonis) use the Zamboni brand. Imagine the persecution that one would face if they were caught using something other than a genuine Zamboni.

The only other conclusion that I can draw is that Zamboni is the name for the machine itself. For instance, when Eli Whitney invented the cotton gin, he didn’t market the Cotton Gin brand. He merely informed others that his invention was called the cotton gin; and that others were allowed to patent their cotton ginning machines with their own company’s logo.

EST: 1792

I could probably look up the history of the Zamboni myself, which would make much more sense than taking the time to write this blog post, but I think that would take the fun away from my speculating. If anyone has the answers, I suppose you can deflate my ponderings of the Zamboni. I suppose.

This post is dedicated to Joe Zamboni, pioneer of the ice rink.

The Malfoy Medley.

It appears that Draco Malfoy is pursuing a music career.

Voldemort is going to Crucio him for being such a sissy.

The ‘Got Milk?’ Curse

Einstein had his relativity, Darwin had his apes, and I have…professional sports?? Not my usual area of expertise, but bear with me. I have a theory.

I’m sure that most of those reading are familiar with the Madden Curse. According to Wikipedia, the phenomenon is “a myth involving the video game series Madden NFL, stating that during or after the season, if a player appears on the cover solo, that player will be cursed with either an injury or poor performance.”

Recently retired Green Bay quarterback Brett Favre is scheduled to be featured on the cover of the 2009 version of the video game, no doubt for his legendary 16 seasons as the Packers’ front man. Barring some sort of Michael Jordan-esque return, it is safe to assume that the game’s cover jinx will not affect Mr. Favre. Some might say the curse is, finally, broken.

I say – to quote the great ESPN College GameDay correspondant, Lee Corso – “Not so fast!”

Let’s leave the realm of football for a moment – just set it aside and stick a pin in it while we’re away. We can then travel to a land not so far away – the land deemed the NBA.

On April 25, 2008, All-Star forward/guard of the Dallas Mavericks, Josh Howard, admitted to smoking marijuana during the off-season. This information severely damaged not only the player’s reputation, but the Dallas camp as well.

Just five days later, Dallas’ head coach Avery Johnson, after leading his team to premature elimination in the NBA Playoffs (for the second year in a row, no less), was dismissed. He had been head coach with the team since 2005.

“It looks like the Mavs are going down the tubes,” you may speculate. And you may be right. But what J-Ho and the Little General didn’t know is that they were doomed before the playoffs even began.

Allow me to introduce Exhibit A.

This promotional ad featuring both Johnson and Howard started appearing in magazines at the end of last year and again before and during the run of the NBA playoffs.

Some of you may have already connected the dots, but allow me to bring my theory to full understanding. Brett Favre has not merely broken the Madden Curse, he has transferred it to the Got Milk? campaign! From now on, if you see a celebrity sporting that all too familiar white mustache in your favorite newspaper or magazine, you can rest assured that their career will be hindered in a major way.

I suppose only time will tell.

Blogtacular

This is my new blog. I will be blogging in it.