I Return

So I neglect my blog. So what? It's not like a pet. My blog isn't floating belly up. I neglect and no one seems to care. Almost no one (hello Valerie). So here I am again to bore you with my day-to-day life.

Today I helped some friends paint their new home. In between painting, I played basketball with their 10-year old son, Charlie. (I actually give Charlie guitar lessons, the primary reason I know these people). So, a little one-on-one. No big deal. Except that 10-year old Charlie is quick, and he beat me three games in a row. I wasn't playing my hardest, obviously, but the kid had moves like a Harlem Globetrotter. Charlie, 3. Jason's ego, 0.

Currently I'm watching the stroke-fest that is the NFL draft. Why am I watching, you ask? Because - that's right - I'm supposed to be grading essays. Suddenly, the apartment is a mess, the 54th pick in the NFL draft has soul-wrenching meaning, and my cat needs brushing. At least I haven't had a beer yet. After that, grading essays is pointless.

What else? My wife and I watched a film last night, "The Squid and the Whale." If anyone out there has seen it, kindly tell me what the hell it was about. I've read matchbooks with better content. My wife fell asleep for the last 20 minutes. When I woke her, she asked what happened in the movie. I said, "nothing." She said, "no, really, I want to know." And I said, "I'm serious. Not a damned thing happened." It was like watching snails chase each other.

Tomorrow, I work on my car, which I've also neglected (it's amazing the thing still runs), and await another round of torture which is the Sacramento Kings vs. the San Antonio Spurs. The Spurs are like mold: they come out of nowhere, they're pesky, and they're difficult to get rid of. Even my cat dislikes the Spurs (and mold). If they're ahead, she turns her back to the TV. Or maybe she just doesn't like TV.

Anyway, there you have it. Until next time...