The internal combustion engine sucks! (and other happy thoughts)

Ok, so I've been getting a lot of shit for my end-of-the-world blog posts lately. In order to fend off further inquiries about my mental state, here's a brief glimpse at my current positive reality:

• It's Saturday morning on a three-day weekend.
• Vandy and Northwestern are going for 6-0 today. Bring it.
  
• I received a tax refund yesterday. From 2004. Nice delay, Massachusetts.
  
• The internal combustion engine is finally headed towards extinction. I hate that thing. Really. It pollutes, it hasn't evolved, and its dependence on gasoline (which, by the way, has actually increased since its invention almost 100 years ago) dictates and dominates American governmental policy at almost every level. (Oh, sorry. There I go again. Ranting.)
  
• I finally got my Masters degree.
• It's no longer humid in Nashville. It's still hot. Still late-August by normal standards. But dry.
• I saved at least two of the mums in our dilapidated garden. Who knew they needed water?
  

So, things are looking up. Seriously. As long as I don't turn on the television or read a newspaper, I won't have to face the fact that people are shouting for Obama's head, or that the stock market is down 40% from its record high just one year ago last Thursday. No, instead its just a quiet Saturday morning here in Nashville, and all I have to worry about is how much cinnamon to put on my french toast. Oh! Cinnamon french toast! I'm adding that to the list.

•  Cinnamon french toast
  

The Presidential Debate in my back yard

Just one mile from tonight's Presidential Debate is our small, unimpressive garden. Neither candidate would be particularly interested in the garden, but we're proud of it. We've pulled weeds, turned the soil, planted mums, and added fertilizer. We had a plan for growth, and we put it into action. We have hope for our new garden.

But as proud as we are, the garden is failing, and our flowers continue to wilt under the blazing Nashville sun. We need more than a plan. We need more than hope. We need more.

We're trying to look at the garden with hopeful eyes, but it's dried up, and no matter what we say to the contrary, it isn't getting better. Sure, we can plant new flowers and lay down some attractive mulch, and talk about how great our garden is... but the flowers aren't growing. We can talk about how they'll grow, and we can add more fertilizer to the soil... but the flowers still aren't growing. We can debate why the garden fails, and discuss ways to fix it.. but its just talk. And talk never made anything grow.

Just one mile from our ailing mums, the candidates are talking. And like the soil just beneath the surface of our garden, the candidates are full of shit. They're talking about the economy and the environment, and they're trying to convince our skeptical nation that America will rise again. But its not enough. The talking, the debating, the arguing... it's just not enough. Like the rain that fell in Nashville today, it's just not enough.

About that, there is no debate.

Live from Dudley Field!

I'm blogging live from Dudley Field in Nashville (seriously, that's what it's called), where Vanderbilt and Auburn are facing off on ESPN. Vandy needs to win. I just couldn't help myself, but I probably shouldn't have worn my Cubs jersey. I'm bad mojo.


EDIT @ 9:30PM: Victory!! Unbelievable. Vandy held on for a one-point victory against the #12 team in the country. The Dores (Seriously?? the Vanderbilt Commodores? Embarrassing. You should see the mascot...) are 5-0 for the first time since 1943. They're 3-0 in the conference for the first time since 1950.  It's going to be a fun fall at Dudley Field.

I seem to bring this good luck with me when I move. When I arrived at football-inept Northwestern University in 1995, the team went 8-0 in the Big Ten, and ended the season as the #3 team in the country. I can't take credit for that, per say, but I did do a fair amount of shouting and marshmallow-throwing, and I think it helped.

Not surprisingly, when I leave a place, franchises go to hell. I moved out of New York City in 2002, and the Yankees have sucked ever since. I left Chicago this past summer, and the Cubs and White Sox are both on the brink of embarrassing playoff-elimination. Heck, even the Pittsfield Dukes, a collegiate league baseball team in Western Massachusetts, finished at a league-worst 11-31 in 2005, shortly after I left the area for good.

How do I hold such sway over the sports world? Its tough to say. But I'll let you know where I'm moving next. In the meantime, I'm going to throw some marshmallows at my television. Maybe it will help the Cubs.