how sweet it is

I have never had a problem with beer in Wisconsin. In fact, I can’t say I’ve had a bad beer up here.

But as I left for work, I saw a light.  A spark.  A sign that our neighborhood — and Madison as a whole — is becoming more progressive…

The Laurel finally moves into the 21st Century.

Welcome Fat Tire.

I already know I’m going to have to give up my car soon.  I always meant to take good care of it, but I really haven’t.  To wit:

— I can no longer turn the ventilation from defrost to floor…that knob is broken.  I used to have a pair of pliers to turn the bar that was left, but eventually I broke that off too.

— The panel on the driver’s door has fallen off.  The passenger’s side panel wants to fall off, but it hasn’t built up the nerve yet.  It’s only half fallen off.

— My back passenger’s window stopped working.  I was ok with that, until it began to lower itself slowly without the pushing of buttons.  It used to stay up if I pushed it up, but it doesn’t any more.  It was duct taped up for a long time, but now I’ve moved to clear tape to keep it up, which is only slightly less embarrassing, especially because the duct tape residue is still very evident.

— I keep a Dawg Head facing out my back window.  I’ve only met one other person who thinks that’s a good idea.

It makes me sad, because the car kinda sucks now, but I love it.  I’ve not found a car more fun to drive.  Apparently that doesn’t make up for embarrassing everyone who rides in it.

And now I know it’s going away forever.  I love my Pontiac…but they are all going away on a somber and sad note.  It makes me sad to think that my generation didn’t love them as I did, and apparently, find them as other generations did.

I still have a picture somewhere of me, as a 4-year-old, sitting in KITT from Knight Rider.  And I doubt anyone my age will really cry over the demise of the Pontiac.  But I am sad, just a little, to know when my car is done, that there will be no more Pontiacs.  Ever.  No KITTS (with William Daniels as my navigator), no noisy Trans Ams, no matronly Bonnevilles, no unnecessary Azteks.  But I’ll miss them all same.

I like the NFL Draft.  I couldn’t watch it all day, but I love the idea of drafting things.  I always thought it would be cool to do a draft in a school, where the teachers could pick their students, trade for different ones, and bargain for better picks.

I watched it this weekend mostly to see how high Knowshon would go in the draft.  And when he finally went, I was ok with it.  But all I could think of was what Homer says at 0:23 of this clip.

At one point in the past I made a blog.  In retrospect, I made it mostly for vain, petty reasons (because I thought I was funny, to have a place to put Simpsons quotes I stole, etc), but it was never very good.  I made a few posts, had a few laughs, and then left forever.  It was for the best.   There’s more reasons for me to not have a blog than for me to have one.  Such as:

— I am a terrible storyteller.  Most people who hear my stories usually end up being more confused than entertained.  I always seem to tell the good parts at the beginning, and save the explanatory stuff for the end, so that when I’m done, people give me the look that is usually reserved for people hawking pyramid schemes.  This paragraph is a good example.

— I put things off.  I procrastinate.  To show you this is true, here is a list of things I have not finished due to laziness:

1. Any college application to a college I’ve never ended up attending
2. My other blog
3. This list

— I speak like English is not my native tongue.  I still can’t figure out pronouns.

— Most importantly, I have a million topics I’ll want to talk about:  Georgia football.  Education.   The media.  Mountains.  Nudity.  Krusty partially gelatinated non-dairy gum-based beverages.   Hopefully, in this case, my lack of focus will be acceptable.

On that note, I apologize in advance.  Enjoy.