Life wins, again.

Life is hard to understand, Occasionally something good will happen. Most times, though, random occurrences, minor, petty inconveniences barge in callously proving life is not your friend.  Life belongs in a museum, behind glass, or a zoo locked in a cage.  We need to control life a little better.  Life walks around, taking, and stomping, and smashing, and just being a big bully in general.

We, here at Life Explained, have decided to take steps to rein in the abusive monster of reality. First we called a meeting, complete with catered breakfast, and coffee service.

It was fantastic, croissants, bagels, fresh pastries, all arrayed in artfully on long tables, covered with pristine white linens. Oh, and the coffee, was the coffee extraordinary. Dark, hot, freshly ground, steam rising as you poured it in your cup. It had to be the coffee of the gods.

A line started to form at the buffet table. Soon there was some jostling, it looked like the cheese danish were going to go before Geoff, the archivist was going to get one. He tried to muscle his way in front of Cathy, the secretary for transportation department, nasty words were exchanged. Glares, snarls and curses.

Not just swearing either. Turns out Cathy comes from a long line or gypsies. It was, in retrospect, obvious. Cathy was always wearing flowing, pleated, flowered skirts ending at her ankle. Her dusky complexion was complimented by eyes so dark and so glittering they appeared to be pupiless. When she walked, anywhere, people, in the back of their thoughts, almost imperceptibly, heard distant, primal music. A song that haunted them for minutes after she had past. Nobody said anything about the melody, why would they. And nobody made the connection, until yesterday.

Before Geoff could could get back to the end of the line all of his hair had fallen out. He had spent so much time perfecting his look, just the right  amount of grey around the temples, the rest jet black, and combed precisely backward, almost aerodynamically. He spent a small fortune on hair products, to keep it in place and colored just perfectly. His clothing was chosen to compliment his hair.

When it fell out he dropped to the floor, sobbing, weeping, curled up in a ball, his face buried in his hands. His shining, bald head gleaming under the harsh lights of the flashing camera phones. It was heartbreaking, and all over Instagram.

We decided Life had won this round. Cathy got her own office, and a company car. Geoff apologized and got his hair back, in a gleaming shade of white/silver that would go with almost any suit. And we went back to work.

Don't worry, we haven't given up, we lost the battle, but the war continues. Maybe we will have pizza next time.

Football Season, A Love / Hate Relationship.

Saturday is the first day of the college football season. There is a certain feeling that follows quickly on the heels of the opening day kickoff.  After seeing a team play it can become difficult to entertain illusions of invincibility.  Before the first game teams are filled with Supermen, supreme beings, monstrous, murderous, animals, fast, flexible and beastly, unfeeling, and incapable of anything resembling compassion or empathy.

After the first game there may be some misgivings, it might seem like they are a little too kind, maybe a little too generous.  On a few plays they really made that team look good.  Sure, everybody should feel proud about their performance, but, charity begins at home, right.

Fortunately, it is just the first week and nobody really plays anybody good.  Except, of course, for those teams that play opponents with a significant advantage in size, speed and budget (funny how those three things travel in a pack).  How the small schools of the world should be pitied, traveling long distances for a paycheck and a painful loss.  But, the teams with the most fans normally win on the first weekend.  The University of Idaho football team probably has very good fans, fans who represent the university admirably on those long, cross country trips to Gainesville, but try to find a Vandal shirt in your local sporting good store (it is such a cool name, I would have one if they were easy to find).

But, until that first weekend all is well with the world, and after the first weekend things are not a lot worse.   No matter what happens though, it is the place of a fan to remember past glories as the most glorious, and look at the future as a promised land, filled with championships, trophies, and unbelievable success.

Such is the life of a fan.  Sports teams are a device used to bring esteem, and self worth.  When the prowess and ability of others is a source of fulfillment and they fall a little short it is only natural to feel bitter and resentful, screaming at the television, and cursing so loudly and profanely that your dog blushes, a little.

But, there is always next year.