Hockey

I realized the other day that I like hockey, but I'm not a fan of any one hockey team.

I'm entertained by the sport, but I realize full-well that it has no real importance or relevance to my life. If I was to associate one team with me, I would be forcing some arbitrary importance onto them. It's sort of like choosing a horse at a horse race, but not having any money riding on it. Sure, it may seem to make the sport more entertaining, but I'm not going to be better off or any more fulfilled if my team wins and I'm especially not going to be any more fulfilled if my team loses.

I guess I just don't feel the need to associate emotions with 20-some players who I've never met before and make more in a year than I probably will in my life.

If you care to hear more of my thoughts, below is an essay that I wrote for my magazine class where I contrast hockey with soap operas. It's more of a rant than it is an essay, but it still has some moments. Enjoy!


Hockey and Soap Operas
I think it’s about time someone compared the two. They have more in common than one might think. The first and most obvious comparison (well, to me) is the audience’s similarity. Not because of age, sex, annual income or any demographic data; they are the same in the way they emote.
I first realized this during game one of the Edmonton/San Jose series. I was at a bar when San Jose scored to make it 2-1. The crowd’s demeanor went from that of a rowdy bar to that of a dentist’s office. The drilling our team took was like a drill into Oilers fans’ collective mouths. Since I’ve never known an admitted soap opera watcher, I use the hypothetical “soap opera watcher.” We all know her, sitting on the edge of her seat with the Kleenex and phone ready in case Fernando goes through with the affair. Both audiences go through similarly drastic--and similarly arbitrary-- highs and lows during a game/episode.
Another matter for comparison is the sheer unpredictability of both entertainment forms. Have you ever seen a weird play in sports? Like in basketball, the shot from half that manages to go in with a quarter of a second left--or in hockey when a player scores a goal on his knees and backwards? It is a fact that in sports, crazy shit happen. The same goes for soap operas: in a soap opera, it is a fairly regular occurrence that someone gets possessed by a demon, meets their evil twin or loses their millions. In both cases, abnormal incidents are the norm.

Another similarity is that we can’t start watching either of these forms of entertainment with expectations. I mean, we root for our home team, and we might place a bet on the better team, but there are too many factors. You might be underestimating the goalies playoff ability or a team’s fatigue. This is similar to predicting that Sandra will come out of her coma and point out Jeffrey as Matt’s killer. But here, we might underestimate just how desperate Jeffrey is. Maybe he’s willing to kill again. Or better yet, maybe she’ll come out of her coma with amnesia.

Perhaps the biggest similarity is the sheer pointlessness of both of these two entertainment forms. Why do we care if a group of guys we’ve never met are collectively better at moving a piece of rubber into netting than another group of guys? Why do we care if Eddy stops Helena’s evil plot to poison Sheena to get with Wes? None of these people have anything to do with us; but all of them have lives that are more exciting than ours. It’s simply a matter of having too much time on our hands at different points in the day.

I hope you don’t see this article as judgmental. If it helps, I have watched (and will watch) hockey and soaps before (and again). In fact, I’ll be rooting on the Oilers as soon as tomorrow night. I guess I’m just saying judge not the soapies, lest ye be judged, sportsfan. Or vice versa.

Day 1: Why?

I've been thinking a bit about why I wanted to start this blog and the following is the best answer I could come up with.

there are a few things in life that I (and, I'm assuming, everyone else) find myself compelled to do, the most relevant being writing and photography (but the list extends to include playing music and chess and a whole bunch of other things). However, as important as those things may be, I have trouble... justifying them.

There are always things that seem more pressing and more relevant to actual daily life: cleaning, working, eating, etc. But though these things seem ever-important also have a sort of... emptiness to them. They're things you have to do; not things you want to do(I'm not sure if that's some sort of spoiled child inside of me, but there it is.). Whereas the things that I want to do seem unimportant, though are probably more fulfilling.

And the way life invariably works is that the less time I find for these things that I, for better or for worse, associate with my self, the worse I get at them. Hence, my reason for creating this blog--as a reason to stay good at these things with daily practice.

I'm not sure what's more absurd: not finding time for things you care about or creating arbitrary deadlines to ensure that you do. But there it is.

I close with a story of a time not-so long ago when The Sims made me realize that I will never be fulfilled. I had recently read Chuck Klosterman's essay in Sex, Drugs and Cocoa Puffs and I, similarly, thought the experience might shed some light on Jason (I realize this blog might step on the essay's toes a little, so I apologize).

I was at my counsins' house--or, more accurately, my aunt and uncle's house--and they went to bed early. They were due up early the next day, you see. I was still pretty awake so I made a character on the Sims that was, essentially, me. I had long hair, a slender build and glasses. I started off, trying to do the things I wanted to do--the things we all associate with "enjoying life." But what invariably happened is I didn't see certain people, I was late for work, I didn't get enough sleep/food/time to shower. As much as I tried to remedy the situation by going to bed early, budgeting time better, there was always one aspect of my life that I was neglecting.

The experience left me feeling extremely empty, and not just because I was 22 years old in my cousins' basement, playing video games at 3am by myself. But because that was exactly how my life was going at the time, and it continues to this day. I will never feel like I'm putting enough time/effort into every aspect of my life or person in my life. I discovered, as Chuck Klosterman put it better than I can (hence why I need to practice my writing), that I was "eternally enslaved by the process of living."

I'd recommend you read Chuck's essay because it is fantastic and exact (for me anyway) about what The Sims makes you feel. I think that's as good a place to end as any..

Man, what an unhappy second post. I find whenever I write just to write, I invariably bore myself with my whinyness. And yes, I know "whinyness" isn't a word.

Oh, and I also attached a picture from Bangkok that somehow seems relevant. How, I'm not sure, though again, I could probably argue for some meaning in it all. That's, again arguably, how organized religion came about.

First Post HooRAH!

Hey all,

I realized today that I miss writing notes to no one on facebook and myspace. That in mind, I decided to start my own, real, "blog"-thingy.

Do I have a lot to say? Well, no. But that won't stop me from posting lots of meaningless, though sometimes mildly amusing, posts.

I'm planning on posting something every day because, with my new job, I have a lot of time that isn't as functional as I might hope. The posts could be anything from random stories (they won't be too day-to-day, I swear) to pictures. It will probably also include random thoughts, lists and short fiction that I've written.

The point? Well, it's partially to hone my skills as a writer so I can consider doing something with the written word beyond rewriting copy stories. But it's also...to create... something. And to take that something and share it with people about whom I care, along with some strangers, I assume.

I am including a picture in this post, which anyone who has been to our condo might recognize. I took this about a year ago on a whim. I didn't put a ton of thought into the composition or anything, but it's one of my favourites that I've taken. I've taken pictures where I've spent minutes framing and I haven't like them nearly as much as this almost-snapshot.

I could probably argue for some meaning in that (trusting your instincts, or something about random chance) but it would be arbitrary.

I hope you enjoy my blog.

Your friend and lover,

Jason