Pummeling Relief

The Glendale, California Element of Patriots' Nation

Of Course, Grampa!

I, along with rest of New England, were more than a little nervous about which Patriots team was going to show up last evening for their first playoff game. Would it be the tepid, scarily inefficient team of the past month or the usual playoff juggernaut? Doubts were quelled almost immediately as the return of some players held out in the tepid period due to injuries returned and Brady regained his normal playoff assassin mode. The Chiefs were a very good team but the Patriots were a great team. I don’t want to see Brady scrambling and sacrificing his body as he did early on but you can’t take the competitor out of his aging body, its part of what makes him the best of all time.

Good to See These Guys Back

Greatest of All Tme

I received a FaceTime call from the First Blog reader assisted by the Cali-Daughter and Wingman. They were also gearing up for the game and my granddaughter led the fashion parade in Patriots’ attire. This was even more of a highlight than the big Pats’ win.

With her Other Grampa for the Game - Color Me Jealous

The weather yesterday was prototypical New England. I wrote about the icy, snow covered roads which precluded a drive north to watch the game. The Cantankerous Friend (gentle soul that he is) correctly labeled me as a wimp for not making the drive because a brilliant sun came out shortly after noon and by game time the roads were clear and dry. I had by that time committed to a day of lethargy, after cleaning the house and watering plants. I can’t believe the long tendrils of my wife’s influence on me.

The Dining Room Table

Lethargy can be mildly productive though as I started on a new 1000 piece puzzle (one of my go to techniques during these winters of solitude), binge watched the Starz series Black Sails (recommended by my Favorite Son), and generally entertained the Wonder Pooch. Throw in not one but two meals involving steaks and the day wasn’t a complete washout.  My wife would cringe if she saw the state of her dining room table  with the puzzle all spread out but the distance made me brave enough to try it.

I also snuck some reading into the schedule and finished off an actual book instead of reading from my Kindle. While I love the convenience of the Kindle, it felt good, almost nostalgic to hold an actual book again; something that was part of my daily life for as long as I can remember from Pre-Kindle days. It’s been my companion over the past week or so during my morning rides on the stationary bicycle. Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood was gifted by the Cali-Daughter after she read it and thought it was something I would enjoy. Since it dealt with a post-apocalyptic world with maybe the last human survivor I don’t know where she came up with that idea. I can understand why she liked it (apart from the female authorship) as it is really well written and she is a fan of well carved prose.

It takes a talented author to weave two separate stories (pre and post apocalypse) together without getting confusing or frustrating for the reader. Atwood infused such life in both stories that there wasn’t a drop off when she shifted back and forth. The story is told through that last survivor, Jimmy AKA the Snowman, who was charged by his absent genius friend Crake and shared girlfriend Oryx to look after a new species of bio-engineered semi-humans in the ruins of the modern society. Atwood makes some chilling predictions about the dangers of modern society, technology (specifically bioengineering) run amuck, and the human condition. While she’s a little more pessimistic than I usually like, her insights are searing. A great read which I heartily recommend.

Here’s some of Atwood’s words as Crake and Jimmy talk about what’s driving humanity towards its end: “What Crake had to say was this:  “Jimmy, look at it realistically. You can’t couple a minimum access to food with an expanding population indefinitely. Homo Sapiens doesn’t seem able to cut himself off at the supply end. He’s one of the few species that doesn’t limit reproduction in the face of dwindling resources. In other words – and up to a point, of course – the less we eat, the more we f—k”.  How do you account for that?” said Jimmy. “Imagination,” said Crake. “Men can imagine their own deaths, they can see them coming, and the mere thought of impending death acts like an aphrodisiac. A dog or a rabbit doesn’t behave like that. Take birds – in a lean season they cut down on the eggs, or they won’t mate at all. They put their energy into staying alive themselves until times get better. But human beings hope they can stick their souls into someone else, some new version of themselves, and live on forever.” “As a species we’re doomed by hope, then?” “You could call it hope. That or desperation.”