bell - a verbalization of consciousness

Florida, here I come!

I have this much time right now: [insert: “no time”]. I’m in my office, frantically taking up a week’s worth of work and cramming it into the second of two days. Calling people, arranging meetings and booking flights couldn’t seem more trivial, considering I’m 6 hours from hopping on a plane to Sarasota for what will be my first trip (of hopefully many) to the Show. I’m ecstatic. I’m elated. But I’m overwhelmed with the infamous “stuff-I-gotta-get-done-before-I-go” phase. But, I’m wearing this sweet new Oregon mesh hat that Volker got me, so I’m feeling much better about it all!

Yesterday I felt like a kid in a candy store —- the entire day. Just so excited and anxious to go ‘play my game.’ I just wanted to suit up and be in that moment. That Ultimate moment. I think we all want it. It’s like wanting to get through the week so you can go to that tournament … but 10 times better! The feeling is so … so… so all-encompassing. From my fingertips to my soul I feel this ‘giddy-ness’… this extraordinary passion for what is to come. Anxious? Yes. Nervous? No. I just want to play. Get me out there. Let the disc rip, and let it be “Game Time,” please.

I’ve got a million things I could write about at length…. but there’s no time. Even if i tried to write something it would look like this:

“So, i’ve always been perplexed by this idea … huck it!… that common souls rest in distinct and disparate … POACHED! … yet mutual bodies, however … dump it, DUMP IT! … there seems to be an interplay reached through … SICK LAY-OUT … you are a champ… I love this game … ULTIMATE! … “

… I dunno, something like that. Really, that’s pretty much the verbatim content of my every thought (aside from the one’s I’m coherantly typing). I gotta go.

PS: and before I go, I thought I share some mutual sentiments that I think Peet and I share, but which Peet actually wrote. (Not to say that I want to be a librarian, but I feel the same zealouslessness about the confines of academic progress…)

PPS: I don’t know if Score-O-Matic will get itself together to post game scores of Natties or not, but if not here, I don’t know where else it would be — so, let’s hope. Ok, Now…. yes, now, i gotta go…

Hats, Varja, Buttes and the like...

I’m beginning to realize more and more (and thankfully so) that i’m generally writing these entries for me, but in a way that allows others to see; well, anyone, really. There’ something quite liberating about that … about the idea that someone can be subject to someone else’s inner thoughts and reflections. The verbalization of that consciousness, naturally, makes for feelings of apprehenson and vulnerability —- but I welcome it.

I’ve slowly found out a thing or two about myself, about what excites me and what intrigues me. I’ve found that watching the many ways in which people put on their many hats and switch between their many identities are ridiculously fascinating. I hope ya’ll would agree. Think about the few people you know very very well. To some degree, the reason one feels they know another person well is because they have numerous shared experiences, they’ve seen that person encounter a variety of circumstances, and have had a chance to see, to some degree, into that person’s other relationships —- ie: who that person is at a college party, when s/he is studying in a dorm room all sunday afternoon, or leading a hiking trip with 3 of his/her peers, or bringing you a special birthday gift wrapped in careful thought and love, or interacting with the relatives at a family reunion, or on stage acting out a lead role in a play or volunteering time to a needy non-profit organization… or whatever. The intrigue is the intimacy that comes from watching a person grow and interact in relation to the changing scenery … in reflection to the many people and circumstances to which we’re constantly adjusting.

For me, that’s become of personal interest. And I call this the “many hats” addiction. And this very principle makes people-watching on a city bench so rewarding. It’s all about just trying to imagine what outfit that person in the pressed-suit changes into when she gets home, or whether that CEO puts on grass-stained jeans and plays catch in the park with his little girls. What it takes for that young woman to laugh, or that young man to cry. Wouldn’t you, if you could, follow all these people around to just satisfy that thirst to find out? To seek the very mechanisms that make that other person whole? I would. But, then there’s that issue of time. Ugh!

In bringing it all back, the “many hats” addiction for me has made blogging of personal interest. It is a way for me to understand the many hats that I might wear, and has become an effort to determine quite how many I might actually wear (vs. have). The hope is to arrive at a point where it’s just one hat for me … or is that really no hat at all? Anyways, Verbalization of Consciousness has become a place for people (and that removed, reflective, inner ‘me’) to not only see where I go or where I am but to also see how I might be thinking about that place, which, in theory, blows my mind. How amazing to actually hear that inner monologue… in virtually real time. Maybe the idea of it is more exciting than the actuality of it.. but whatever. We roll on.

Now, I’m not fishing for compliments. I realize i’m just one person. And there are many other people in this world that can bring an abundance of more intrigue and puzzlement, but my own personal hope for me, is to capture a fraction of those thoughts we all have each day in rhetoric… exploit it, expand it and subject it to any other consciousnesses that happens to cross its path.

So where am I at? I’m here. In eugene. Taking it easy. Currently, I’m sleeping 12 hours a night, and busting my ass 12 hours per day. I head out for Florida on Tuesday night (7:45pm) for the UPA Mixed Nationals Championship. I’ve been going to bed earlier and earlier in the night to get on east coast time. I figure my body is not going to benefit from much more of a workout, so I get a good jog in each day, stretch thoroughly and toss for about 2 hours. Then it’s to the books, to the office, to class and back to bed. It’s just how I roll… and I roll deep. Varja showed up for me yesterday, courtesy of Eric Hoffman, and the house is clean (dishes and all) for the first time in what seems like a while. I’m staying hydrated. Always nice.

Also, yesterday, my officially new Grad school friend, Jake Werblow, and I went for a 5 mile hike. We had talked about doing something like this for a while, but I’ve been gone every weekend until now, so we jumped on it. My first weekend in Eugene was a good one. I busted out this little “Oregon Handbook” that I bought this summer and found half-a-dozen hiking trails within 15 minutes of my house. We zipped over to 52nd and Willamette and hit the Ridgeline Trail and summited Spencer’s Butte [2,052 ft] all before noon. Atop Spencer’s Butte we could see incredible sights - all of Eugene was covered in light whispy clouds, dashed with brilliant rays of sun and against the backdrop of the greenest forest I’ve seen in a long time. There were a few deciduous trees showing off their turning leaves and the air was calm and crisp. Werblow and I talked a lot about things and I think our friendship will prove solid. He’s a good guy. We stopped for ice cream at Prince Pucklers and talked about his trip to Niger. Peace Corps is sounding more enticing by the day. But, then again, so was this Ceasar-gladiator-colliseum book he was talking about. Perhaps I’ll make that happen.

I bought Maddie more food today cuz she’s been complaining, so now I think we’re definitely in a relationship.

The Oregon boys and the PLU ones are down in Chico playing ultimate as we speak. That’s the second year in a row I’ve missed that tourney. Bummers.

I should probably head out and go make dinner… (and The Roots keep rockin’ for me…)

sure, why not...

All right, Volk-master, this one’s for you…

1. What is your Full name: Aaron Morgan Bell
2. What color pants are you wearing now : Green
3. What are you listening to right now: The Roots - Tipping Point
4. What are the last 2 digits of your mobile phone number: 22
5. What was the last thing you ate: Apple Cinnamon Pancakes
6. If you were a crayon what color would you be? African-American
7. How is the weather right now? Puffy white clouds against a bright blue sky
8. Last person you talked to on the phone: Ira Meiling
9. The first thing you notice about the opposite sex: Mouth
10. How are you today: chilled out, for sure…
11. Favorite Drink: Ensure, Banana Flavor
12. Favorite Alcoholic Drink: Wisconsin Lunch Box
13. Favorite Sport: Ultimate
14. Hair Color: Dark Brown
15. Eye Color: brown
16. Siblings: 1 sister
17. What do you do for a living? engage graduate studies
18. Favorite Month(s): September, and May
19. Where do you call home? Milwuakee, WI
20. Last Movie you watched: Before Sunrise
21 Favorite Day of the Year: hmmm…. not sure
22. Are you too shy to ask someone out? nah…
24. Chocolate or Vanilla: swirl, for sure
25. Hugs or Kisses: swirl, for sure
26. Do you want your friends to write back? I mean, whatever needs to happen..
27. Who is most likely to respond: 1e
28. Who is least likely to respond: Vicki Garbanzo
29. Living Arrangements: Single Apartment-Duplex thingy
30. What books are you reading? Being and Nothingness (Sartre), The Influence of Darwin on Philosophy (Dewey), the 16th Round
31. What’s on your mouse pad: a smiley face

Sanibonani!

Sometimes the things we find our selves saying (ie: at Ultimate
Tournaments, YMCA Camps and in the comfort of our own homes) transcend the contexts and traditions of our own culture. I have, personally, been witness to many rhetorical pronouncements that seem to rise up from the depths of one’s soul without any clear applicability to the given situation.

In response, many myths have emerged in hopes of explaining such verbal declarations, for example, the wild and energetic, “Jabu” call. Old cliches, Bars, Restaurants, and Internet Advertisements alike have all attempted and failed to provide reliable contextual relevance to such a phrase-of-mystery, and what’s more, most are still unsettled with the actual pronunciation of the term (yah-boo?, yaboo?, ja-buoy?, yeah-buj?, jeh-bool?, etc…).

All we can really say, is that there is something special about the word that makes us feel a little better, but the question remains, “Why?”

I won’t pretend to offer you a solution here, but I will direct your attention to a slice of culture on the other side of the world that seems to embrace a seemingly similar term, with a seemingly similar sense of elusiveness. Right or not, I think we are on our way to understanding, more precisely, the absolute nature of the word in question:

http://www.potential.origins.of.the.infamous.’Jabu’-term.edu/

So, I say to you, “Yebo!”, and good day!

PS: please disregard the repellant picture of my wife at the bottom of the webpage. I asked her not to post things from our personal album, but… what can you do? Yebo!

Oregon Weather...

At this very moment in time, it is absolutely POURING in Eugene. I’m looking out my window and am baffled by the buckets upon buckets of water that seem to be dumping from the heavens. Pretty incredible. I’ve not seen it rain with such enthusiasm in quite a long time. The question becomes,… how long will it last? (The PNW has a reputation for wussy Rain Showers, in terms of duration).

A secret

I’ve not been posting as often as I’d like, lately. Not for lack of interesting material (quite the opposite rather, considering John Edwards was on campus the other day, this pretty fun political comedy routine happened last night at Cozmic Pizza, and I’ve had some progressive conversations of late), but I’ve found that I’ve been journaling a bit more and blogging a bit less. So it goes.

In an effort to move forward with this space for thought, I’ll reveal a little known secret about me in the context of a short occurence that took place last night. So, I was out on the turf fields, between 8pm and 10:30pm, tossing the ‘bee with some Oregon kids. I was super into it. Yelling and raving, exclaiming such things as, “you can’t hold me!”… and “it’s too easy. it’s just too easy”… when a 50/50 disc went up just after the clock struck “10”. The disc was high, and charging, full-throttle (yes, i have a throttle), Koko and I converged in opposition on the disc. I have a considerable height advantage and a large competitive smile of anticipation came over me … I leaped. As my feet propelled me from the turf below, I launched to meet the disc at its highest point. My right arm swung forward to grab the disc, while my left threw itself downward to further propell my flight. And that’s when it happened. My elbow smacked Koko in the face, … and what’s worse, the disc went uncaught.

It was a shame on two accounts. Dave (Koko) shook it off, and felt rather optimistic since there was no blood… but no sooner had he said this did blood start to pour from his nose like lava from St. Helens. I felt horrible. But he seemed cool with it, and didn’t hold it against me. He let it drip to a complete stop, wiped, rinsed and we were back to throwing. The only comfort I could offer him at such a time of anguish was, “hey man, if it helps any, I want you to know that I’ve never had a bloody nose… ever!… in my life!”

Dave and I remain friends to this day. And, yes, I’ve still NEVER had a bloody nose. Ever. In my life.

shazam...

Here are some more pictures of our team, and I think they do a relatively good job of showing everyone’s personality — however bizarre that might be. I had talked about wanting to chat about each game, but the more I think about that, the less I really want to write summaries … I did that forever at PLU and I might have run out of steam, but I’ll give a brief overview.

SATURDAY: We came into the tourney as the #3 seed, and had seed #5, #9 and the #16 in our pool. Our first game was against the #9 seed, Mischief. They were a good team, and had some height and speed. It looked like they had some pick-ups from UCSD and some other bay area folks. We got out to an early lead and just maintained. The final was 15-10. We expected this team to give some of the other teams quite the run for their money. In fact, they were up on Persauder (#5 seed) for double game-point, but Persuader pulled it out at the hard cap to win by 1. It would have been a great upset, and would have taken some of the pressure off of us when we played Persuader. While that game was going on we played Swizzle. They came out of the NorCal section, but my understanding was that they received a bid to regionals after some other teams decided not to go… thus, swizzle was the last seed and expected to get worked. We won 15-1, but I’d have to say that Swizzle was one of the most fun teams to play against, and they were really good about spreading the disc around to their women as often as their men. And they won the party on saturday night! Our third game was against Persuader, the number 1 team from Utah. They went to nationals last year but were seeded 5th for this tourney because they hadn’t played any of the top 4 teams (Brass Monkey, Whoreshack, Shazam, Red Fish Blue Fish - respectively) this season. We knew they would be a hard team to face, and they had knocked out Shazam the year before. Coming off of such a close game with Mischief, we assumed they’d be tired and that we could roll through the game — not a chance. After a super hard fought game, we won 16-14. It was really close and Persuader was definitely in it to win it. We tightened up our rotation and pulled out the game. A lot of people got beaten up this game, namely tad and jimmy. Both were out for our final game of the day, a cross-over against Brass Monkey (#1). We won the toss but loss the first break, brass monkey went up 2-1, then 3-1… we answered and B.M. ran away with the half, 8-4. Going into the second half we just opened up the rotation, took our whipping, and went home to lick our wounds, 15-6. We know we could play Brass Monkey better, but we honestly thought it would be in the finals on sunday. In the other big cross-over game of the day, Whoreshack beat Red Fish Blue Fish, 15-12 in a way that everyone expected. The top 4 seeds seemed to be seeded correctly, and I would have never expected the final seeding to come out the way it did….

SUNDAY: So, the next morning, we played Solid Gold in the quarterfinals. We won convincingly, 15-5. Solid Gold is a good team, and will beat you if you’re not on your game, but we came out Sunday morning with a job to do. Seriously, the team seemed indestructable. Meanwhile, Do’h, the number 2 team from Seattle, BEATS Brass Monkey in the quarters, 15-12. A monumental upset. This knocks Brass Monkey out of semis and their only chance at a bid to nationals was through the backdoor. Then, shazam plays Whoreshack in the semis and we play out of our minds, winning comfortably, 14-11. Meanwhile, Do’h advances to Semi’s to lose against Red Fish Blue Fish, and Brass Monkey begins its fight back on top against Persuader (#5), winning 15-5. The games go on. We meet Red Fish Blue Fish in the finals, a super windy game which is RFBF’s favorite conditions. they run such a monster zone. But for every break they get, we seem to kick it into high gear and answer with a break of our own. we trade leads. The crowd hoots and hollers, and in the end, we pull off the win on a downwind drive, 13-12 at the cap (on double game point). The top two teams go to the Show automatically, and seeds stay as is… meanwhile, Whoreshack plays Brass Monkey in the game-to-go-to-the-game-to-go. A totally unexpected turn of events. Remember, everyone thought finals would be Brass Monkey versus Shazam, and Whoreshack would be playing RFBF in the backdoor… but the monkey ended up back there and worked Portland, 15-7… this was also the first time Whoreshack and Brass Monkey had ever played each other. It was rough, and my heart went out to Portland. They were a solid team. Then, brass monkey played their 8th game of the weekend against Do’h, again, in the game-to-go. We all stayed around to watch this match, not sure who we wanted to cheer on. Do’h had picked up some juniors women players from the Seattle area and seemed to have finally learned the trick of using them well. they went up early in the game. All of a sudden, D’oh was up 9-6, pulling downwind. Then, Brass Monkey turfs the first pass in the endzone. What! D’oh gets the disc on the goal line with a chance to go up 10-6, and pull downwind! A nice easy cut is set up, completely wide open, and James Evans (for Do’h) overthrows it!! I couldn’t believe it. Brass Monkey rallies their gift, and puts one in. And another. And another. Soon, the game is tied at 9’s. Both teams look tired. But they’re putting everything out there. 10’s. 11’s. D’oh starts looking in trouble, and they stop using their women effectively — just like old D’oh, boys hogging the plastic in a series of huckfest. Then brass monkey starts running away with it. There’s some tough calls and a lot of stuff goes to observers, but in the end, Brass Monkey wins 15-11, on a callahan score. It was exciting. Do’h put everything they had out there…. and almost walked away with the biggest upset in history (a 7th seed knocking out the 1st seed)!

That was the weekend. I guess that was more of a summary than anything else. Final seeding:

1. Shazam
2. RFBF
3. Brass Monkey
… and the rest is history…

Regionals Pictures

Here are a few pictures of Shazam at the Regionals tourney in Ogden, Utah. In some of the pics you can see the beautiful mountains in the background. When the sun came out of the clouds, or when it began to set in the evening, the moutains were absolutely gorgeous … but the ultimate was even better! Below are pics from finals… (if I find more, I’ll post ‘em)

This is Jon Ladd going up for a sick grab… he always gets that stuff like it’s nuthin’. Cory and Capt’n Tanya are in the background.

Amber, doin’ her thang…

Capt’n Steve, with a sick layout…

Mattson, dancing for the cup… PS: “Red Fish Blue Fish” has some tall women as you can tell…

More Mattson, but my favorite part is John Ryan coming to the disc in the background with his hand raised …

Jimmy catches a disc from Pam…

Erin (or Gally, or Gina) comes down with it while sporting her new skirt, acquired from the night before at the party. (PS: while she was at the party, Tad, Scott, Jimmy and I were dumping buckets of ice in the bathtub at our hotel in preparation for our 15 minutes of “ice tubbing” … yeah, try that sometime!)

That’s me, on the pull…

Ok, this was sick. Jimmy cuts down the line for a disc in the endzone, the pass is behind him and, in mid-sprint, he lays out backwards for the disc…

… and comes up with it! “Game,” indeed.

NW Mixed Regionals...

It’s on! Shazam, the Ultimate Frisbee Club team from Seattle that I’ve been playing with all summer, won regionals! The story gets better. We should be seeded as the #1 Mixed team in the nation going into the National Championships, which are in Sarasota, FL during the weekend of Halloween. Finally, all that hard work and commitment has paid off… cuz we’re goin’ to the “Show”! And what’s more, we expect to win it.

We’d played out of our minds on Sunday, and that’s chill. I’ll have to get back to you about the details, but as for right now, I gotta get home and get some rest. After a long day of class and Oregon practice, I’ve got a headache the size of jupitor and a body that wants to lay down.

I’ll say this though, flying home last night from Salt Lake City was an interesting event - on many levels. First off, I was seperated from my team. The rest of the team flew back to Seattle, and after having such an incredible weekend together, it was rather anticlimatic to journey the long road home alone. Secondly, nearly two full teams from the Portland area (Whoreshack- the #2 team in the regionals tourney, and Psychic Friends Network - #11) were on the plane with me. Teams that we beat; and one team in particular, Whoreshack, who probably should have gotten a bid to nationals. They were certainly favored to go to the show (I’ll speak to this later). Anyways, despite how good of people these players were, and despite how easy it is to hang out with them in general, there was something different in all of their faces last night. The Whoreshack players were on top of the world the night before. Winning their pool convincingly, and anticipating their trip to Florida. But Sunday night, their eyes were red and tired, and the spirit in their smiles was no more. My heart went out to this team as they took the long trip home, knowing that it was their last trip together this season. Needless to say, small talk was just that — small. They congratulated me on our success, and I theirs. On top of it, I saw many of these competitors, who are feared and respected opponents on the field, retreat to their airplane seats and perform that magic trick that every ultimate player in the world does …. (drum roll!) … become normal again —- they begin to grade papers, prepare legal documents, and catch up on some must-needed rest before heading into work the next day. It’s a wonder these players take time out of their otherwise normal lives to make room for such an exciting sport. And then I began to look around the rest of the plane. I was sitting next to a newly-wed couple with a tiny infant nestled between them fast asleep; there were old people and young people, suited people and casual people, international people and local people and they were all coming or going from their own little weekends, in their own little micro-worlds. Each of us different. But each of us in the same place for a short moment in time. Once on the plane, I spoke to no one on the flight. Just looked around, and began to fall asleep. I can only hope that a fraction of those people on that plane had the chance to rejoice in as fulfilling and as monumental of a weekend as I. Cuz for me, this weekend was history…

Rush Week

I feel like the entire west end of campus has turned into a playground for hoodlums and hollering… After 5 hours of work, 2.5 hours of throwing and an hour in the pool, I came back to my lab for a casual checking of the email, and some random mental wandering in the form of a blog entry — but to be honest, I can’t even think straight. I have no idea how many people are gathered outside in the mall in front of my building, easily in the hundreds, but it seems more like a fit of chanting and yelling than anything very structured.

To be honest, it’s kind of amusing. Really, I’ve never heard such a variety of hoots and hollers. At the peak of every crescendo, or at the sudden eruption of a triumphant roar, I’m tempted to run to the edge of my floor, and look to see what the commotion is all about. It must be something — I mean, these kids are fired up! The greek system has it’s allure… and I’ve often tried to picture my participation in such a lifestyle - but I imagine I’d pay way more homage to the “Hops & Barley” Gods than I’m comfortable with… then again, I do play ultimate! (where we don’t call them ‘Frats’, we call them ‘Teams’…)

I tell you, people and their rituals; the two seem to go hand and hand.

I’m off to go find some dinner, and mentally prepare for my trip to Salt Lake City tomorrow.

Howard Dean

In light of the Vice Presidential Debates that occured tonight, which I so happened to watch with my dad in the Eugene Hilton, I am reminded of an on-campus event that took place last friday afternoon at the Student Union … Howard Dean came to campus! He was greeted by a couple thousand students and faculty who were, more or less, eager to hear him speak some praise and pledge his support for the Kerry Campaign.

He certainly was a very passionate and charming speaker. I took note of his political poise and temperament. He was greeted by a whole slew of liberal Kerry-sign-holding passionists, an organized group of satirists dressed in tuxedos and evening gowns hoisting signs that read, “Billionaires for Bush,” “4 More Wars” and “Who Needs More Species Anyways?”, and, surprisingly, a fair amount of pro-bush supporters that arrived confidently enough with Bush paraphanelia raised high. Either way, Dean began to speak and you could feel the energy of the crowd. I have to admit, it was exciting. I had goose bumps when he teased us with talk of “a system of health care for every american” … but oh, what a dream. Regardless, I took note of some things he said, and why not share:

He put a lot of empahsis on “Trust.” This has almost become a buzz word in the current election. If you’re not using the word “trust” than you’re probably not getting it from the American People, but then again, the more I hear it, the more I question it’s sincerity. He talked about balancing the budget, and endorsed Kerry as having a means to doing this. He spoke of the environment and people cheered (it’s Oregon for god sakes…). He made mention that Bush doesn’t seem to trust the Pentagon, and made a quick-witted joke - “if you’re going to pay someone to give you advice, you ought to take it every once and a while!” I admit, I laughed. He reminded us of the problems in the public school system, he reminded us of the 1052 American soldiers that have died fighting overseas, and explained how he thinks that if Bush remains in the presidency, that there will be a draft. (!!)

Dean then explained that 95% of ‘us’ all want the same thing, and he said he’d tell us what that is: we all want jobs, we all want economic security, we all want an education system, and we all want a president that will restore relationships with Foreign Policy. It seemed that everyone nodded, and who wouldn’t? Howard went on. He proclaimed that that Republican campaign was trying to divide us…. i nudged him, “go on, I’m listening…,” I remarked to myself. He explained that all the issues Republicans seem to bring up are, “Guns, Gods, Gays and Abortion” - he’s tired of an election that attempts to divide us as voters, and he’s tired of this election to be about hate. He got plenty of applause. It was powerful. He spoke a bit about how he’s not against the ideals of the republican party, and how the democratic party is not all that perfect itself. He talked about how the parties have differed/evolved/changed throughout their pasts, and how, over time, they’ve both slid farther, and farther to the ends of the spectrum; but he wrapped everything up nicely and gave us a message in between.

He urged us all to join a campaign. Any campaign, on ANY level. Help them raise money, help get involved with the issues, help support and exercise your democracy-given freedoms. He said, in his closing sentence(s) - “stand up for what you believe! … and person by person, house by house, state by state … we will take this country back - for the people who built it, and that’s us!” The crowd roared and it was over.

He might have said a few more things, but that was the jist of it. I’m glad I went. The second it was over, though, I hopped in the car and drove to Seattle. Had practice, came back to Eugene, and two days later my Dad came to town. We just watched the VP debates (yes, poor segway at the start… what can I say) and had dinner at a nifty little restaurant, the Marche. My dad and I may differ with some political perspectives, but we agree with this verdict:

Bush/Kerry Debate Winner: Kerry (for round one, that is)
Cheney/Edwards Debate Winner: Cheney

PS: It’s been a real treat to watch the Presidential debates in a living-room full of hyper-liberal Democratic students, drinking cheap beer and dipping stale chips in salsa, and then to watch the Vice President debates in an executive club room at the Hilton with staunch conservative Republican businessman sipping fine wines and tasting complimentary h’orderves. I’ve appreciated both sets of company, … but maybe because I’ll eat pretty much anything these days….

Pick it up a notch!

I’ve been playing ultimate a lot these days. Shazam practice on every Saturday and most Sundays. Practice with Oregon two to three days a week. Pick-up games on thursday on the turf fields, and again at PLU on Sunday afternoons. I’m feeling healthy, weighing 174lbs. I remember being big football player in High School, working out in the gym everyday with Schleiks and Big Wahn, and Burcham, and the gang. I weighed just over 200lbs. Today, I feel faster, and more competent competitor in my sport, and I feel expectations resonating from within myself, and from my peers. Perhaps the expectations from my peers are secretly projections from myself, but either way, i welcome the pressure. I want to rise to that pressure. For the first time in my athtletic career I really feel like a competitor; a confident and energetic competitor. I have no fear of another player. I will gladly mark any player on any field. Hoping either to teach a lesson, or learn one. I’m at a point of no return… my head is focused and goals are clear. I want to be better then the day before. And with each new day, that goal seems to grow even stronger and more clear.

But there are times where I play with less focus, and with a more haphazard, lackadaisical approach. I feel like despite my lightheartedness, there may be a turnover I half-heartedly throw or an out-of-bounds pull I carelessly throw, but the I’m finding more and more that those imperfections affect me. I know there might be a danger from striving to play perfect ultimate at pick-up, but I think there needs to be a level of focus that will help my more competitive games. If I could ask myself to work on a particular goal, it would be to maintain that competitive focus, even in positive ways, at all levels of my play. Turnovers and poor execution aren’t acceptable. This doesn’t me that they shouldn’t or can’t happen, but rather that I know I can do better, and that I shouldn’t be satisfied. I want to be the best that I can be, and that will require that I take my level of focus up a notch - to the next level, even if I have to define that level for myself. I want better. I want that better play to happen THIS time, not next time. I want to commit to striving, and with this attitude, i know I will be proud of my athletic accomplishments when it is all said and done…

Speaking of, this weekend, the Seattle team that I play for, Shazam, will be having Regionals in Salt Lake City. We are seeded 3rd stiff competitition. The saturday pool play is a little screwy with a cross-over game against #1 Brass Monkey, but if we hold seed, we’ll have a semi’s match against Whoreshack (#2) who we owe a lil’ sumthin’, … either way, the weekend will be tough — especially at 5,300 ft elevation. There are three bids to nationals in Sarasota, FL. With some focus, we’ll make that dream a reality. Jabu!

Phenomenology

I’m am absolutely loving my Sartre class. This week’s reading was/is on phenomenology and the writings of Husserl. I will readdress this entry (hopefully) and explain phenomenology and little more holistically (or at least my interpretation), but for now I need to write down this quick paragraph, provided by Robert Sokolowski, in his book, Introduction to Phenomenology - so here goes (pg 46):

“Since we live in the paradoxical condition of both having the world and yet being part of it, we know that when we die the world will still go on, since we are only a part of the world, but in another sense the world that is there for me, behind all the things I know, will be extinguished when I am no longer part of it. Such an extinction is part of the loss we suffer when a close friend dies; it is not just that he is no longer there, but the way the world was for him has also been lost for us. The world has lost a way of being given, one that had been built up over a lifetime.”

The second last sentence is truly my favorite. We all make this world into our own reality (our own intentions), and each interpretation is such a beautiful and inspirational creation, and to follow the progression of one’s (a friend’s perhaps, or partner’s) relationship with the world over time makes the value of your connection with him/her that much more powerful. And, inversely, makes death, or the absence of that vision, that much more potent.