Football Fasting

Sunday October 6th, 2013 – Fox Lake, IL

I love football. I love the action, excitement and drama of a well played game and I’ve loved it since I was a little boy. I loved playing it then, and even after I stopped it has remained an annual staple in my autumn schedule. I especially love the NFL and the Green Bay Packers in particular.

I have written in detail of my inability to stop being a Packer fan, and at this point I consider it a hopeless addiction. It should make no difference whatsoever to me – or anyone else that doesn’t actually play or coach for them – if they win or lose five minutes after a game, but it totally does.

I’ve resigned myself long ago to the embarrassing fact that I will always care somewhere in the deepest part of my existence whether the Packers win or lose even though I know it carries a zero effect or less on how my life turns out. Even though I know it means nothing, I know it still does.

Instead of seeking the years of intense therapy I probably should for this deep rooted condition, I have chosen instead to take a different route and wean myself off of watching games whenever possible. It was damn near impossible at first, but now I’ve gotten pretty good at avoiding them.

One thing that helps tremendously is that I live in a place where they aren’t the prominent team on television. They weren’t on this week, so I would have had to drive to Wisconsin to watch the game which I didn’t feel like doing. I did drive to a flea market and walked around all afternoon.

I mainly did it for the exercise, and it felt good to take a brisk walk on a fall day. A few people did have radios playing both the Packers and Bears games, so I caught up with the scores of both whether I wanted to hear them or not. I didn’t mind in small doses, but I didn’t want to waste the afternoon in front of the TV riding that emotional roller coaster one more time. I don’t need that.

What doesn’t help is that I’m in not one but two fantasy football leagues. I should keep a closer grip of what’s happening, but my friend Jim McHugh is my co-owner in both and he does a more thorough job of combing the waiver wires than I ever could. He’s the perfect man for that job.

I am not saying I won’t ever jump back in with both feet, but for the immediate future I choose to participate in what I’m calling a “football fast” and use at least the three hours that the Packers play to do something much more productive. I will hear the final score soon enough, but nothing of my personal doing will have had a thing to do with it. Whether I watch or not doesn’t matter.

What does matter is that I get at least one of my own flailing projects off the ground. The NFL isn’t going to miss one lone nut that chooses to do something else for a while, but I will cease to exist if I don’t figure out a way to get some legitimate steady income flowing in my direction. A three hour chunk of time to work on that comes in handy right now, and I don’t want to waste it.

I didn’t spend all three hours walking through the flea market, but it didn’t take long to realize I’m not going to haul in much money there. My idea of being a picker of collectibles and turning a profit has been a lot less consistent than I imagined. It’s too high of a time outlay for too tiny of a return, but at least I can do it on my own schedule. The smart thing to do is keep working on all my ideas like The King of Uranus, “Schlitz Happened!” and the rest. Football can wait a while.

The NFL is a drug – with 32 varieties.

My personal drug of choice since age 8. Is there a 12 step program for NFL addicts?

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The Illinois Highway Massacre

Wednesday September 4^th, 2013 – Rockford, IL/Chicago, IL

   My worst fears came true and then some today as I got sucked deep into a traffic black hole on my way to host the radio show at WNTA in Rockford, IL. I ended up taking I-90 which I hadn’t been on in quite a while, and that was a constipated convoluted construction clogged nightmare.

   I left a little later than I wanted to today, and that’s often my problem when I do the fill in work at the station. It’s not all that far physically, but there’s no fast way to get there. If I end up taking one of a few possible routes from where I live, it’s about 65 miles one way. If I take the Tollway on I-90 it’s about 80 miles one way but it’s technically faster because it’s a freeway. Technically.

   There was nothing free about it today, as it’s being hacked up like a serial killer’s victim. They should call this project The Illinois Highway Massacre, as there is literally forty miles of horrific conditions that made me wish I was dead just a few minutes after I got on. It was constant stress as I clutched the steering wheel in my hands and tap danced on my brake pedal the entire trip.

   There was a construction zone for forty miles, and that’s longer than I’ve ever seen. The speed limit the whole way was 45, and it was loaded with trucks hauling everything from wide loads to hay bales that made passing anyone next to impossible. I almost had a heart attack, aneurism and stroke all on the same day trying to twist my Toyota through the two lane trail of traffic torture.

   I’ve never been a fan of toll roads anyway, but this sent me over the edge. Who has any idea of where any of that money goes? I don’t trust anyone in government as it is, but the state of Illinois is in a class by themselves when it comes to corruption. It’s one of the only states that has a three headed monster of toll roads, casino gambling and a lottery yet they’re constantly out of money.

   I called Jim Stone from the radio station to tell him I’d be cutting it close, and I ended up doing exactly that. I made it with about fifteen seconds to spare as the last commercial was ending, and I thought I was going to explode the last five miles as I raced through city streets to arrive before I was to go on. This is not how life is supposed to be, but I’ve been in this situation many times.

   When I got on the air I teed off on the toll road system and all the corrupt idiots behind it, and I got a couple of calls agreeing with me wholeheartedly. People have often told me I’m at my very funniest when I’m at my angriest, but that’s when I fail to see humor as I am too busy venting.

   I really went off on several topics today, and I saw people from the station walk past the studio and look in at me through the glass to see if I was alright. Jim Stone walked past and had a smile on his face, and I could tell he was digging what I was doing. Or maybe I got the wrong message and he was just glad I showed up on time or he’d have to do the show. Either way, I did the job.

   After the show I needed to be in Chicago for a fantasy football draft that some comedians were having. That was the last thing I wanted to do, but I made the commitment so I showed up. I was still stressing from the ride in, and it got higher as their computer crapped out halfway through it. I politely bugged out, and drove home to hopefully get a little sleep. Tomorrow is even busier.