24 Months Later ...

It's a very exciting day, of course, because this little blog is now officially two years old. Oh sure, when I'd started this thing, the original idea was simply to throw up random numbers and statistics in the news. I hoped to continue doing what I had been doing at the time, which was finding amusing material for a sidebar entitled "Roamin' Numerals" in the commentary section I was editing at the time.

So, this blog began with that idea and, hence, the URL you see there was also the original name.

And while I saw no reason to write about myself, that, of course, inevitably happened. And then came the equally inevitable political rants, predictions about sports & the Academy Awards and just quick links to things I wanted to share but didn't feel like e-mailing people (sometimes).

Today, "Soapbox Central" has been somewhat usurped by the blog I'm keeping over on my MySpace. But now that this little baby is two years old, I'm wondering what I'll plan on doing with it.

We'll get back to that, but when I think back to some of the highlights from the first two years of "Soapbox," these were the posts that sprang to mind and allowed me to pretend I'm posting something new:

- People still doubt the truth of the "Little White Button"

- It took 29 years, but I finally conquered my fear of roller coasters

- You better recognize the importance of choral music, bitches

- Friday the 13th proved to be rather memorable

- I can make a Greek fire me by uttering just two words

- We're going to the Super Bowl! (... and losing ...)

- Halloween is not a "holiday" I'm particularly fond of

- Memo to overly loving couples: We don't think you're cute, just pathetic

- Apparently, even cats can get constipated

- Wait a minute—a member of a boy band is gay?!

- Please don't let me take any more sales jobs

- I may have had a roommate, apparently

- Sweet Lord, don't get me started on abortion

- I finally competed in the town's annual canoe race

- If I shave my chest again, boy, she better make it worth my while

- I finally graduated college ... and then proceeded to spend an entire week celebrating it

- And, of course, where it all began ...

There is a very good chance that I'm going to utilize MySpace for the personal shit, a new site for the commentary shit and "Soapbox" for, well, who knows.

Strap in, folks. If the next two years is half as interesting as the past two, we're in for another pretty fucking good ride.

Super Bowl XLII Prediction

Pretty hard to argue with last week's picks, of course. I've long considered The Hives' "Hate To Say I Told You So" the best fundamentally R&R song in years, but, boy, I sure did want it blaring from America's collective speakers last weekend when Green Bay fans watched that third game-winning attempt go through the posts.

If I hadn't had an overly horny and slightly drunk ex-girlfriend messing around with her computer in my basement "apartment," there's no telling how much I might have missed.

Rather, her suggestion of tying me up for an evening and my suggestion of splitting whatever my dear mother prepared that evening for dinner turned into total fruition; Neither of us regretted staying in that night.

Alas, here we are, with me having gleefully cheered alongside my father the field goal that crushed Packer-fan dreams and, in my mind, alleviated us all from two weeks of "Favre vs. Brady" greatness B.S.

How much would that have sucked?

Anyway, I said it last week, and I've been saying it all season ... and I'm not backing down now.

I like the Patriots. I've always liked the Patriots. I'm rooting for the Patriots.

Alas, bye-bye to the memory of the 1972 Miami Dolphins, who will forever be rightfully be remembered as just being, "Oh, they went undefeated too?"

This match-up is 20 times better for the public outside of Boston and New York for this one simple reason: New York nearly beat this New England team when the Patriots were on the verge of 16-0 (unprecedented). In other words—and here's where I should be a marketing major—the Giants don't just equal the ratings of a storied franchise, the team's reason for redemption gives us all something to root for during the two-fucking-week build-up to this event.

That said, you know my pick:

#1 New England Patriots over #5 New York Giants

And, yes, if you must require a final score prediction, it's here:

31-21

Let me now find the photo of a giant dick for the '72 Dolphins to collectively suck. Suggstions shall be accepted.

NFL Championship Weekend!

As you probably noticed, most of the supposed football pundits really put their balls out on the line last weekend and picked all four of the favorites. I'd laugh in their face after picking two upsets, yet here we are with most everybody—including myself—having gone 2-2 last weekend.

So, that puts me at 5-3 so far in this year's NFL playoffs and the fuck if I'm not going to pick another upset this week. While I'm certain the league would like nothing better than the idea of Brett Favre's resurgent Green Bay team trying to knock off a history-challenging New England squad, I've just got a feeling that these Giants (which have won nine consecutive road games—and NFL record, I do believe ...) are not going to be intimidated by snowflakes or Lambeau Field.

That said, my picks this week are:

#1 New England Patriots over #3 San Diego Chargers

#5 New York Giants over #2 Green Bay Packers

And that's my last upset pick of the season, seeing as the Patriots—regardless of which NFC team they're matched up against—will almost certainly be 10-point favorites. And rightfully so.

Let's all hope the 1972 Miami Dolphins have front row seats for the game so we can watch them collectively shove the barrels of shotguns in their mouths when they realize they weren't so special after all ...

Unfinished ... Yet, Complete

THE ASSIGNMENT:

In a Magazine Article Writing class I ultimately dropped because I didn't need the credit—and it was scheduled way too fucking early in the morning—we were given a set amount of time (20 minutes, I'm guessing ... but don't quote me on that) at the computers to tap out a quick scene emphasizing description. The subject we all ultimately had to adhere to is the title.

THE RESULT:

Childhood Memory

The first thing I do when I get into an automobile is immediately lock the door. It's not that I'm worried about being carjacked; it's just a habit I've developed since one memorable summer day when I was eight-years-old.

My mother was driving my sister and I back from the public pool in our white Chevy Nova. The car had aged poorly, showing hints of rust under the doors and beige leather interior with scattered rips and frayed stitching. Driving down the two-lane Route 25 that afternoon, I sat in the passenger seat with my still-wet navy blue trunks soaking into the beach towel underneath me. My sister, two years younger than me, complained from the seat behind me about the gust blowing her long, brown hair in her face.

I didn't wear a seat belt because the starchy fabric itched my bare chest. The pool was a short drive away, so my mother let it slide. Besides, it was treacherously humid that day, making the seats feel as though you were sitting on a hot plate. Even the plastic interior underneath my elbow resting on the door was burning.

Coming north, my mother signaled left when we saw the sign for our small neighborhood's convenience shop, appropriately called "The Little Store." With no oncoming traffic giving her reason to pause, Mom casually turned the wheel left. And as the car turned to go up the hill that led back to our neighborhood, that's when I felt the passenger door swing open. I must have placed all eighty or so pounds of my body weight against it, because I fell right out of the Nova and right onto the gravel along the side of the road. The small bits of stone stuck to my semi-naked body as I rolled down the hill and heard the car's brakes arrive at a screeching halt.

I just laid there on my stomach for a moment, not really sure of what had just happened. I cleared my nearly-white hair from my eyes as tears began to well up. My mother came down the hill, running towards me in her olive green sundress and flip-flops, screaming my name. I spit a small pebble out from my mouth and saw a drop of blood fall from my lower lip—or possibly my chin. There were a lot of small knicks and cuts all over my body.

On her knees beside me, my mother placed her left hand on my back. "Derek, Derek—are you okay?" she asked me, her words coming out with quick breaths of concern.

THE AFTERTHOUGHT:

No idea if it was actually a Nova, but I spent a few days recovering while my Grandma (bless her heart) nursed me back to health.

And Now For Something Completely—Well, Mildly Different

Obviously, I've used some of my old writings from the Fiction classes at Columbia on different occasions to substitute as blog posts over here for a couple reasons.

First off, most of the stuff was items I came across and just kind of liked. Secondly, most of my blogging these days revolving around, you know, my "personal life" is done over at my MySpace, which can be found over here (if you'd like to read those, I believe you need to be added as a friend first—which isn't much of a hurdle when you consider that roughly half of my "friends" are bands, celebrities or porn stars).

Anyway, I'm (again) trying to get back into the habit of posting here once a week, so fully expect completely random journal entries which may or may not be:

- True

- About me

- Entertaining

- Relevant to anything, really

I decided last night when going through my journal while getting drunk with the ex that a lot of the stuff I had originally written when first starting this journal was not exactly sworn to secrecy.

Here's your first example:

"Journal Entry 1.3"

I spent the better part of my morning engulfed in a truly compassionate conversation with absolutely nobody. Now, I'm not crazy or on too many drugs; I simply get this way when I happen to misplace my keys.

Asking the walls questions they could not possibly answer, promising the microwave what I'll do when I find what I'm looking for, reminding the mirror that this is not a laughing matter. You'd be surprised how the question of "Who the fuck are you even talking to?" never comes up. Not even once.

Undoubtedly, if these inanimate objects could suddenly lend advice during this most recent production of "Derek's Disgruntled Theatre," the words would be less than helpful and only infuriate me further.

"Well, where's the last place you left them?" the refrigerator might ask.

"Are you sure they're not in the car?" my bed would add.

"I thought you had them a second ago," the sofa could observe.

In the reckless path of destruction left behind from my search, I'll usually make note of anywhere between seven and seven hundred different things I need to consider doing ... immediately—after I find my keys, of course.

Oddly enough, when I finally do discover that I had absentmindedly failed to check the pockets of the jeans I had been wearing the previous night, I can't think of what to do next.

Perhaps it was an hour, or maybe it was two. The entire span of time was intensely focused on one thing, yet I have effectively managed to convince myself that my life is completely out of order and the dam is going to burst very soon. Now with my keys, you'd think I'd get cracking.

I also retrieved a phone number from the same pocket I had found my keys in. She had sounded sincere when she gave it to me, so maybe this time I won't inexplicably be speaking to the sixteen-year-old kid who happened to answer the phone at the local McDonald's. "Naw, there ain't no Gina workin' here I know of."

Yeah, I didn't think there would be.

I could call her now, see if the digits, you know, "check out." Knowing my luck, she'll probably be in the middle of doing something. "Argh," she'd groan. "I'm sorry, it's just that I can't find my goddam house keys."

At that point, knowing how little I could help and how very much I could only make things worse, I'd simply say, "I guess I'll let you go."

Sometimes it's best just to figure those things out for yourself.

NFL Divisional Playoffs Weekend!

Ranked in order of confidence once again, I went 3-1 last week, failing only to pick the Jacksonville Jaguars' mild upset of the Pittsburgh Steelers (which my second-least confident pick of the week).

We're not scoring points here, so my two upsets this week logically are my least confident picks. Sue me:

#1 New England Patriots over #5 Jacksonville Jaguars

#2 Indianapolis Colts over #3 San Diego Chargers

#3 Seattle Seahawks over #2 Green Bay Packers

#5 New York Giants over #1 Dallas Cowboys

My apologies to my dear brother-in-law ...

NFL Wild Card Weekend!

I could e-mail out these predictions and run one of my useless pools if I felt so inclined, but I know full well that response would be minimal. That said, here's my picks for this weekend as we wait for the New England Patriots to inevitably complete a perfect season (ranked in order of confidence):

#3 San Diego Chargers over #6 Tennessee Titans

#3 Seattle Seahawks over #6 Washington Redskins

#4 Pittsburgh Steelers over #5 Jacksonville Jaguars

#5 New York Giants over #4 Tampa Bay Buccaneers