I was going to write some kind of spooky story to celebrate Halloween this month, and this was what I came up with instead. I have had many recent requests from people to read something I’ve written, and this is the most recent. This is a first draft and comments or criticism are welcomed. Enjoy.
A collective sigh of relief swept through the town of Mossyrock on the day Jacob Morton died. It wasn’t that they desired his death or found satisfaction in physical harm befalling him. They just wanted him to go away and nobody was going to complain if that was achieved through his dying.
Find the complete story here: “Jacob Morton Comes Back Alive”
Being a fan of a sports team in Seattle is like being in a bad relationship. The potential to create something beautiful and magical is there, but we seem to constantly miss the mark. We fall in love, make promises to each other; everything is so crazy and exciting and passionate, and just so perfect at first. And then it all comes unraveling apart.
Maybe we the fans are to blame. Maybe our expectations are too high and we’re putting too much pressure, making too many demands on our significant other. But how can we not?
The Mariners and Seahawks both were supposed to have elite, championship-like seasons for 2008. They made sacred vows to us.
Mariners CEO Howard Lincoln said in February: “To win the [American League] West division is something within our control, and something I think we have a very good chance of doing.”
Instead, the Mariners finished with the second-to-worst record in the entire league.
At some point during that season, the M’s and I decided to take a break from each other, and determine how important the relationship really is. I felt crushed, but then I had my real true love to turn to: the Seahawks.
We are now halfway through the current football season, and it is becoming increasingly more difficult to picture Seattle sitting atop the throne of the NFC Western Division for a fifth year in a row. I could feel my heart splintering during the game against New York, and then shattering against Green Bay.
So how can we make this relationship work?
The Seattle Metropolitans won the Stanley Cup in 1917. In nine years, that will have been 100 years ago. And we don’t have a professional hockey team anymore.
After “The Miracle Mariners of 1995,” the ballclub has flirted with greatness here and there ever since, but have ultimately been unable to fully recapture it. A World Series appearance is yet to happen. That something special we had in Seattle at the beginning of the year when Mariner domination was believed to be inevitable must have left and gone to Philadelphia, since they just barely won the World Series. Come back to Seattle, something special.
The Seahawks unofficially won Super Bowl XL, but officially, we lost. That was supposed to be our shining moment, but Bill Leavy and Jerramy Stevens made a secret oath together before the game to sabotage it while millions helplessly watched in horror. The single most-uttered prayer in Seattle is that we will return to the Super Bowl and right that wrong so that the universe will once again be in perfect alignment.
The Seattle Supersonics won the NBA Championship in 1979. They returned to the NBA Finals again in 1996 but understandably lost to the invincible Michael Jordan and his Bulls. Then they got bad again. Even as we gave them second chances and third chances and even fourth chances, they cheated on us, and then dumped us. You can have them, Oklahoma.
What are we left with? Should we just give up on love and consign ourselves to the idea that we cannot have what other cities and their teams have?
The Seahawks are not out yet, as painful as things have been recently. But should that door close, hope might just lie around the next corner.
Seattle was awarded a Major League Soccer expansion team in 2007, and in March of 2009, the Seattle Sounders FC will officially begin their first season. How good are our chances to excel?
Compared to the 32 teams in the NFL and 30 teams in the MLB, the Sounders will compete against 14 other teams during the 2009 season, which are much better odds.
And that means it might just be time to fall in love again.
- No training/safety guidelines were given prior to the skydive jump.
- Mark’s hand was almost bitten off by a shark.
- Ted’s Bakery makes delicious pies.
- I nearly died on five separate occasions.
- Sand is everywhere. Even after you bathe, you still have sand in hidden orifices of your body. I am, in fact, picking sand out of my ear right now.
- Being under the ocean is a religion to some people.
- I can either tan lightly or burn brightly. There is no middle ground.
- Hawaii is a nice place to be.
At least once a year, I end up locking my keys in my car. I don’t know why or how it happens so consistently, but I have given up fighting against it and have accepted that no matter how hard I try not to, it will still happen. I once did it twice in the same day back in high school, in my car and then in my girlfriend’s car.
Seeing as it’s been a while since the last time, I wasn’t too surprised when it happened a couple of days ago right before I was to meet with a client. As I walked away from my car, I slapped my right butt cheek to confirm the wallet was there, my left side pocket for the cell, and then my right side, only to hit an empty pocket, much to my dismay.
Although I cannot stop this from happening in the future due to the way electrical synapses fire in my brain, I have decided to take the next best step by making certain that I always have a spare key on me. I will be having a surgical procedure tomorrow to form a pocket of skin on my belly which will hold my key.
They will take excess skin off my buttocks and graft a layer of it on my stomach, leaving an open slit at the top where I can take my key out and put it back in. They will even be stitching a zipper over the slit so that the key doesn’t inadvertently fall out when I do hand stands or bungee jump.
So as long as the surgery is a success, I will never have to struggle and fret over a way of getting back into my car after I lock the keys inside of it, thus crippling my ability to effectively complete my daily demanding schedule.
This is a compilation of highlights from the cross country drive, moving Benny and Marc back to Seattle. And yes, it was like this the whole way.
A couple of days ago while playing soccer, I extended my foot into the ball with such powerful ferocity that a wave of pure energy rippled through my entire body, snapping or twisting or jamming all of the muscles in my upper right shoulder area. As soon as it happened, I knew it was bad (although it didn’t stop me from finishing the game).
Fast-forward two days and the pain is as intense as when it first happened. The best way to find any relief is by not rotating my head on my neck at all. If I have to turn my head, I turn my whole torso, which causes me to look quite robotic.
This wouldn’t have me so worried if not for a chance encounter I had a few weeks back with a dirty, old homeless man. From the recent film I made (see previous post), part of my role was to play a robot version of that character. During a short break of shooting a particular scene out in public, I was eating a chicken sandwich when this grimy hobo approached me.
“Eating chicken in a sandwich, is you?” says he.
“Yes, I am,” says I.
“Why you eating chicken if you made of metal?” says he.
“No, No,” I laugh. “I’m just playing a part. I’m not really a robot.”
“You’re not?” says he.
“I’m not,” says I.
“You sure ’bout that?” says he.
“I bleed blood like the rest,” says I.
Then with a swiftness that belied his appearance, he snatched the chicken sandwich out of my hands and stuffed the rest of it in his mouth. And though his mouth was filled with the remnants of my lunch, his voice was clear and distinct to my ears with what he said next to me.
“Blood you may bleed and chicken you may taste, but ‘ere the year is o’er, oil shall be the liquid in your veins and bolts the morsels that slide down your throat. A metal man you play, but a metal man you shall become. The war of machine and man draws near, metal man. On which side will you be found?”
I didn’t think much of it at the time, but the words now haunt me as I ponder that question over and over again in my mind.
In case the film wasn’t enough, here is bonus footage that includes outtakes, bloopers and other behind-the-scenes bits and pieces for your entertainment and amusement: