in only a few hours, u2 will take the stage downtown.
and, at last, the genius of my ticket strategy is becoming fully appreciated.
you see, i sense panic in the air from ticket brokers and scalpers.
this, combined with the public's overall disdain for the band and its do-good overexposure, is what i fully anticipated.
indeed, what has been a seller's market for the past eight months is suddenly turning into a buyer's dream. and fortunately for me, i'm one of the few still interested in buying. armed with this insight and my powerful negotiating skills, i'll swing by the atm on the way to the american airlines center tonite and use that handy $50 fast cash feature to fill my empty wallet.
that simple transaction should be all i need to enjoy the show from about the eighth row. ("no, that's all right. KEEP THE CHANGE, my good and desperate scalper friend. buy your kid a gift on the way home. in fact, here's a new potato for you.")
with what money i've got left in my wallet, i'll pick up a t-shirt for my fellow funegrans and some popcorn for the show.
but first, i'll catch a few z's. a little nap before the show would be good. i'm just gonna take my time getting to the arena. see, along with the sense of panic in the air, i'm also catching a vibe of general indifference to the show. i mean, i guess they might start the show if i haven't arrived yet . . . ahh, forget it, i'm not gonna take any chances.
let's see. show starts at 7:30. traffic should be non-existent. 2 minutes to park, :45 to walk to the scalper just outside the main entrance, :15 for the slightly unsavory ticket transaction, a minute and a half to get to my seat. just to be safe, i'll allow another minute.
to ensure my usual punctual arrival, i'll leave the house at 7:10 and will post my reaction to the show later tonite.
p.s. what size t-shirt would you like?
Saturday, October 29, 2005
Saturday, August 27, 2005
civility on two wheels
fellow funegrans--
on my bike ride this morning, i was struck by something.
not like a water balloon or egg or errant tee shot or anything like that.
rather, i was observing the camaraderie -- or lack thereof -- between cyclists.
you see, this morning i made an effort to connect with every cyclist i passed. i tried to make eye contact. extend a mild wave. curl the edges of my mouth north as to indicate friendship. kindness. a certain esprit de corps on the road.
i got nothing in return.
my offers of goodwill were summarily rejected. in fact, i wasn't even acknowledged. perhaps my fellow cyclists were envious of my unique, if not wholly unorthodox "west coast" spread eagle pedaling motion. or maybe it was my tricked out $199 bike that spawned envy instead of friendship. indeed, a mix of indifference and competitive hosility permeated the toasty texas air this morning. curious.
contrast that with the sheer bonding that takes place when two motorcyclists encounter each other on the road. the universal biker's salute serves as a show of solidarity. a feeling of belonging to some death-defying fraternity. a recognition of a richer way of getting from point a to point b. a wink and a nod to sharing a secret -- that the journey is the destination.
what a shame, then, that the cyclists i encountered today would view riding their bike as a chore. a task to be crossed off the daily to-do list. a joyless exercise that ignores the fresh air and surroundings whereas motorcycling is a thrill to be savored. a sensory explosion that gives life.
at least my observations about cyclists myopically focused on fitness are consistent with the odd looks i get when i wink and wave at my fellow gym members as they complete a set of 8 squats or a few pull-ups.
if only i could train for skiing atop a harley.
chile or bust, brothers.
on my bike ride this morning, i was struck by something.
not like a water balloon or egg or errant tee shot or anything like that.
rather, i was observing the camaraderie -- or lack thereof -- between cyclists.
you see, this morning i made an effort to connect with every cyclist i passed. i tried to make eye contact. extend a mild wave. curl the edges of my mouth north as to indicate friendship. kindness. a certain esprit de corps on the road.
i got nothing in return.
my offers of goodwill were summarily rejected. in fact, i wasn't even acknowledged. perhaps my fellow cyclists were envious of my unique, if not wholly unorthodox "west coast" spread eagle pedaling motion. or maybe it was my tricked out $199 bike that spawned envy instead of friendship. indeed, a mix of indifference and competitive hosility permeated the toasty texas air this morning. curious.
contrast that with the sheer bonding that takes place when two motorcyclists encounter each other on the road. the universal biker's salute serves as a show of solidarity. a feeling of belonging to some death-defying fraternity. a recognition of a richer way of getting from point a to point b. a wink and a nod to sharing a secret -- that the journey is the destination.
what a shame, then, that the cyclists i encountered today would view riding their bike as a chore. a task to be crossed off the daily to-do list. a joyless exercise that ignores the fresh air and surroundings whereas motorcycling is a thrill to be savored. a sensory explosion that gives life.
at least my observations about cyclists myopically focused on fitness are consistent with the odd looks i get when i wink and wave at my fellow gym members as they complete a set of 8 squats or a few pull-ups.
if only i could train for skiing atop a harley.
chile or bust, brothers.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Run, Do Not Walk, To Get This Book
On our trip to Phoenix, I completed N.T. Wright's book "The Challenge of Jesus." I cannot recommend this book highly enough. It was immensely helpful in gaining a better understanding of Jesus' mission, particularly as it relates to the salvation of Israel. Here are some representative quotes:
"His kingdom-agenda for Israel demanded that Israel leave off her frantic and paranoid self-defense, reinforced as it was now by the ancestral codes, and embrace instead the vocation of being light of the world, the salt of the earth..." (sound familiar?)
"Jesus, at the very center of his vocation , believed himself called to do and be in relation to Israel what, in Scripture and Jewish belief, the Temple was and did."
"We must therefore get used to a mission that includes living the true Christian praxis. Christian praxis consists in the love of God in Christ being poured out in us and through us. If this is truly happening, it is not damaged by the post-modern critique, the hermeneutic of suspicion. We must get used to telling the story of God, , Israel, Jesus and the world as the true metanarrative, the story of healing and self-giving love. We must get used to living as those who have truly died and and risen with Christ so that our self, having been thoroughly deconstructed, can be put back together, not by the agendas that the world presses upon us but by God's spirit."
"Your task is to find the symoblic ways of doing things differently, planting flags in hostile soil, setting up signposts that say there is a different way to be human. And when people are puzzled at what you are doing, find ways - fresh ways of telling the story of the return of the human race from its exile, and use these stories as your explanation."
Saturday, July 16, 2005
The Arizona Biltmore
If you have a chance to go here, take advantage of it. Not the nicest resort I've ever been too, but the most storied and unusual. The Frank Lloyd Wright architecture (and sprites overseeing the gardens) are truly fascinating. Libby and I had a great time despite reaching 116 degrees on our first day there.
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Friday, July 08, 2005
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
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