Am I capable of writing something that hits the way 17776 by Jon Bois hits?

Can I affect people in any similar way? Can I imagine a journey like that? Can I play with form the way Bois and his editors did to tell this story in multiple ways: words, images, video, music, and more?

Without saying anything about the content of 17776, I can say the story reminded me of outside-the-box strips by xkcd, especially its epic "Time." And yes, I mean "epic."

17776 is challenging, sprawling, and transformative. I wanted to note that. And to imagine how someone could build on that.

I love football, but this is worth it even for those who don't really know or follow football.

You might be surprised: as a kid, I was, surprisingly often, surprisingly literal. It was one of the reasons I was crap at telling jokes, and a sign that I needed to be more clever. Too literal and you can't think around corners. You can't think laterally. Maybe your intuition isn't given a full workout.

Be too literal, and you'll wind up thinking your way into a mental cul-de-sac that might in fact be weirder and more surreal than any non-literal thing you could have thought of. Example:

When I lived in Camarillo in first and second grade, I had a baseball pennant on my bedroom wall, even though I wasn't a baseball fan. It was for the San Diego Padres. It had this logo.


I am not a religious person and my grasp of history was at best tenuous, and that plus my literal mind made me wonder: did the San Diego Padres dress like padres?

Would I have wondered this if I'd had a pennant from the Brewers, the Tigers, or the Orioles? I dunno, maybe I would've. Or even from Boston? Who could tell who's who when the players are all dressed like giant, say, socks? Excuse me, Sox.

(The Colorado Rockies and the Florida Marlins didn't exist yet, so no one would have to dress like mountains. Or Marlins. Poor Marlins, flopping on the grass, gasping for water...)

I assure you, the game that would have resulted would have been surreal and amazing, all generated by my not being able to think symbolically. Maybe it'd be a good animated film. Disney, call me.

I hadn't planned to write this on MLB Opening Day, but here we are.

It feels later than it is (9:10 p.m. as I write this) — maybe because I'm running on interrupted sleep from last night. My biggest sleep bugaboo: I fell asleep with my bedside light on, and I never get fully to sleep when I do that. I woke up in the 3:00 a.m. hour and stayed up for about an hour; my body resisted going back to sleep until then. I'm glad I did, finally, though it took over an hour; I awoke at 8:00.

Today, in fact, went reasonably easily once I did wake up: I eased into the day, I like to do, and could listen live to Greasy Kid Stuff on Xray.fm. And later I got a ride: Mom came to town and took me to the family home, in Dundee. We're doing a day trip tomorrow. Why not? *smiles*

Meanwhile, for the first time in decades, Oregon men's basketball team is in the Final Four. Holy crap, I did not think they'd get this far, but I do not mind. Plus I like that Gonzaga from Spokane made it. Northwest represent!

Much of that Portland Timbers-Minnesota United FC game was closer than you'd think from a final, Portland-wins score of 5-1.

It's almost always closer than you'd think, it's soccer. Minnesota United, a first-year MLS team after playing in the North American Soccer League for seven years, had the ball slightly more than the Timbers in the first half, so more chances to get it towards the goal, and in the second half got its first-ever MLS goal. I was hoping they'd get a goal. Of course I was hoping the Timbers would get more. But the sooner a team proves (to itself, its fans, and its opponents) that goals are possible, the better. So Minnesota United got past that major psychological barrier.

I hope they win. Against someone else.

The final 15 minutes of the game (96 minutes total, with 3 minutes stoppage time added to each half) got crowded with Portland goals, I thought surprisingly so. They finally dominated; in its six-year MLS history Portland has had better records in odd-numbered years than its mediocre even-numbered years, and it wants to have another good odd-numbered year. And then, ideally, a good even-numbered year in 2018. (Hey, it's sports superstition, it's powerful.)

I listened via online radio — I'm not used to doing that, and I'm glad I remembered I could — to the game, played in Portland a few miles west of me. Providence Park (formerly PGE Park, Jeld-Wen Field, and Civic Stadium in the time I've been a Portlander) is, I hope you've heard, an amazing place to play soccer. Fans mean it, and know the game (more than I do, but I'm learning, I'm learning); I've been to wins, draws, and losses there, and I love the place's energy during a game no matter what. It's welcoming and smart-assed.

This is not my most coherent entry. I accept that. I figure it conveys my frequent giddiness I get from watching the Timbers, a giddiness I want to keep feeling as I watch more and learn more. I want to be a better fan. I'll never be a good player — I was mediocre in grade-school-age soccer in California and Virginia — so I'll follow these players, who are. I'm looking forward to it.

Timbers, play well. Minnesota, you know you can play better.

I did not take much pleasure from that Super Bowl.

Though now I figure that George R. R. Martin took even less.

I did get invited to a Super Bowl viewing party, by the family I watched last year's game with, but I decided I wouldn't be good company, even with friends: and complicating things was a possible snowstorm. Possible, but even more uncertain than snow forecasts usually are for Portland. Forecasters were literally saying We could get half a foot or more of snow on the valley floor — or it might rain a lot. No in-between. I had the frustrating hunch that if I did commit to going out to the party, it'd be snow in Portlans, not rain. So staying at home for the game was the better decision, I think. (We got rain, with snow sticking to the mountains, the higher elevations, and the north.)

But, again, ultimately, not much pleasure in it. I wish this hadn't been the first Super Bowl to go to overtime. I'd been curious if that would ever happen, but I think I would've preferred if an overtime game had resulted from a really close back-and-forth game, not the lopsided game this time.

Oh, if you hadn't guessed, I was rooting for the Atlanta Falcons this time. The New England Patriots rub me wrong. (They rub George R. R. Martin so wrong that he created a background character in A Song of Ice and Fire named after Head Coach Bill Belichick who exists just to get eaten. By giants. Martin's a New York Giants fan.) The rest of the household was rooting for Atlanta, too. I'd've preferred if Seattle had made it, or barring that, Green Bay, but we can't always get what you want. Sports are good about reminding us of that.

Some amazing plays and catches; an impressive number of successful two-point conversions, which are harder to do than they look; almost a safety, which would've been an odd way for the Falcons to get two points, but hey, they would have helped — so there were moments. But it was, ultimately, frustrating and a little deflating.

There. Venting about sports done. For now.

Cubs won.

Cubs won.

I honestly wasn't sure I'd ever see that happen.

Holy crap, Cubs won.

I refreshed both Twitter and the ESPN website A LOT tonight as the, game, kept, happening — a tie, a 10th inning, a rain delay — and I WAS NOT THE ONLY ONE. I don't even follow baseball, but I get my family and friends' love of it, its eccentricities, its improbabilities (even I've heard of the 33-inning game), its drama.

I was making weird, strangled noises during this game — I didn't want to be too loud, it's late (NOT AS LATE AS IN CHICAGO OR CLEVELAND) — as I watched both the improbable game and the improbable, stressed, frequently hilarious reactions to it. History in real time: that, for me, is when Twitter sings. And this time it was for fun history.

Time to wind down. Though if I were Chicago schools, I'd just cancel class for Thursday...

I screamed, laughed, yelled, and cringed through the end of the Seattle Seahawks-Arizona Cardinals game. Five quarters, no touchdowns, four field goals, TWO MISSED FIELD GOALS IN A ROW: by the end we were rooting for a safety to happen. OK, that was a good heart workout at least.

Did it seem like a sloppy day in the NFL? I mean, just in general?

Earlier: Sports. NFL on the TV, New England Patriots at Pittsburgh Steelers to be exact, and Major League Soccer on my tablet, specifically Portland Timbers at Vancouver Whitecaps. The NFL game was going badly at first for Pittsburgh. I posted online that Pittsburgh could have it worse:



Then, like it was karmic payback, Vancouver scored, and scored, and scored, and scored, and since Portland then only scored once on a free kick, Portland lost 4-1.

Ah, sports pain, I know you well. I manage to live with you, and I try to get over you reasonably quickly.

That could've been worse.

As I've done before, I spent this afternoon in the lobby of the OHSU-Portland State University-Oregon State University shared complex, the Collaborative Life Sciences Building, on South Waterfront next to the new transit bridge. It's a reasonably comfortable place, there's a deli and a Starbucks in the building if I (or students) need sustenance, and there's wifi. I read, and used my tablet to follow the UO-Nebraska football game (a squeaker loss that the Ducks could've tied they hadn't had three failed 2-point conversions; seriously, I like that more teams try for conversions, but four in one game is a little much (especially with a 75% failure rate)) and the Portland Timbers-Philadelphia Union soccer game (yes! 2-1 Timbers! Phew). I wanted to next go to Central Library to return a book I'd gotten there, so I left, got on a streetcar, and was almost to the library when I realize I couldn't find my cell phone.

Checking my pockets and carrying bag: yep, not there. Checking the streetcars floor: not there. Thinking about my path since leaving the Collaborative Life Sciences Building: oh, yeah, probably still in the chair I'd been in.

Quicker library errand, it was. The southbound streetcar stop is directly behind the central library, so I went there. Didn't have to wait long, thank goodness, and I got back to South Waterfront, marched into the building, beelined to that chair: yes! Still there. I didn't cheer because a student was now on s couch next to it, resting, and didn't need me woo-hoo-ing. I can behave.

Phew.

While I'm here, I can share some of what the building looks like:



And me, relieved (I shot this later):


Not lost! I take victories where I can.

I still both laugh and sympathetically cringe at the time in November 2001 — a time when basically the whole United States was in A Mood, for a huge reason — that Indianapolis Colts coach Jim Mora minced no words about his team's loss:

Well, I’ll start off by saying this: do not blame that game on the defense, OK? I don’t care who you play — whether it’s a high school team, a junior college team, a college team — much less an NFL team. When you turn the ball over five times — four interceptions, one for a touchdown, three others in field position to set up touchdowns — you ain’t going to beat anybody I just talked about. Anybody. All right? And that was a disgraceful performance in my opinion. We threw that game. We gave it away by doing that. We gave them the friggin’ game. In my opinion, that sucked. Ah. You know? You can’t turn the ball over five times like that. Holy crap! I don’t know who the hell we think we are when we do something like that. Unbelievable. Five turnovers. One of them for — We’ve thrown four interceptions for touchdowns this year. That might be an NFL record! And we’ve still got six games left, so there’s no telling how many we’ll have. That’s pitiful! I mean, it’s absolutely pitiful to perform like that. Pitiful!

And added, when asked if the 4-6 Colts could make the playoffs:

What’s that? Ah — Playoffs? Don’t talk about — playoffs? You kidding me? Playoffs? I just hope we can win a game! Another game.

Anyway, football's back! I can keep that in perspective.

General update time!:

Work is work. It happens.

And last week's work had longer days than normal, because we worked longer hours to hit a midweek deadline. Result was that I hit 40 hours of work at 2:15 on Friday the 2nd. How did I celebrate? By walking. Because it was a nice afternoon, that's why. I walked up to the Streetcar on SW 10th, rode it to NW 21st, and walked around that neighborhood. I used to work just north of there, in 2012 when I was at the print shop; a good number of area buildings were new to me, though the warehouse that Leverage pretended to blow up is still there. Also there was this, which I picked up:


After walking a little more, I hopped a convenient #77 bus and headed east, and walked and bussed down NE 82nd Ave. because I am fine with walking many places, even less picturesque ones like 82nd. (It's not a pretty street. In NE or in SE.)

Saturday was a nice social time, at the same place at different times. The barbers I usually go to have moved from their former shop on Foster to a new place, Southeast Barber Co. in the 5500 block of SE Woodstock. I made my fist trip there early Saturday afternoon, visited the guys, and got my hair cut; later in the evening, I came back for the grand opening get-together the barbers and their families hosted. Food, drinks, visiting, videogame-playing (they have Star Wars Trilogy and Dig Dug in a side room), and good vibes: yes! And like the old location, this one's within walking distance. Yes, this is important to me. *smiles*

Today was mostly resting, especially at day's end because my back is surprisingly a little achey; not sure what I did to it, but I've been resting and even took painkillers. Sometimes I have to remind myself that it's OK for me to use painkillers. There was football (I lucked into watching the surprising ending of New England-vs-Denver, one of those can-be-fun sports moments where a game comes down to one play) and a quick grocery run, one I'm proud to say I saved 28% on. Oh, and there was fish. Good impulse buy while grocery shopping.

Was this general enough? "I did stuff! And things!"

Have a good week, y'all.

A day of mainly looking after an unsettled cat, dealing with an unexpected blockage in a sink, making an emergency run to Fred Meyer to get more drain cleaner to solve that blockage (I was wearing hard shoes and white socks in public YES I HAVE GOTTEN "OLD MAN" PRACTICE), and yelling in surprise at how unexpected and audacious the end of the Green Bay-Arizona playoff game was. It's been a day.

Yesterday's highlight was, overall, nicer: visiting a couple I know and meeting their new son, a 2-month-old. Nice to hang out with friends; nice that I didn't scare the kid. Phew.

Quick thoughts on the NFL's Wild Card games:

Chiefs-Texans was more involving than its 30-0 score would make you think.

I saw the last quarter of Steelers-Bengals at Big-Ass Sandwiches, updating Lisa since she can't see the restaurant TV from the kitchen. (By the way, I really like that BAS won't ever have the TV on just to have it on, unlike so many (too many) restaurants and bars...) We were both rooting for the Bengals, mainly due to not liking the Steelers -- seriously, about the only person I liked on the team was Troy Polamalu, and he's retired -- and oh, we were really hopeful that the Bengals would keep that sudden lead at the end. Except the Bengals screwed themselves with first not getting that two-point conversion, then penalty-playing the Steelers to within distance of getting a field goal that the Steelers indeed got. Oh, well.

Seattle Seahawks-Minnesota Vikings: LUCKY WINS COUNT THE SAME AS WELL-PLAYED WINS. But a well-played win (not reliant on the Vikings' poor Blair Walsh shanking that field goal left of the uprights) would've felt better.

But that kick did give us this:

Washington-Green Bay: I was kind of a 'Skins-fan-by-osmosis during the late 80s when I lived in Northern Virginia, and an actual following fan in the 1991-92 season, the one they ended by winning the Super Bowl for (so far) the last time. I've wanted to follow/ root for them again, but owner Dan Snyder's tone-deafness and jerkiness are the big reasons I don't. (Former owner Jack Kent Cooke was a jerk, but he was more fun.) Meanwhile, while I'm not a fan of the Green Bay Packers, I respect them. So I feel OK about Green Bay handily winning this...and I'll hope Washington becomes a team I feel OK about again. (Broken-record time: THEY NEED A NEW NAME. I honestly still kind of like "Washington Red Tails"...)

I feel superstitious enough that I will make no predictions of where the playoffs go from here. 'Course, I'm lousy at predictions anyway.

I am, however, looking forward to George R.R. Martin's thoughts on this weekend's games and his predictions, now that he's reached the stage of "my favorite teams aren't in the running, so I can just enjoy good games as good games..."

Holy crap.

Holy crap, Timbers, you did it.

The Portland Timbers needed five years in Major League Soccer to do it. "It" = WIN THE MLS CHAMPIONSHIP HOLY CRAP.

Oh yeah, I've been smiling. I watched the first half at Landmark Saloon, which opened its "shed" (really, it's an outside shed with seats on the outside and a fridge and a tap on the inside) early to show the game plus NFL on another monitor, with people I know through Funemployment Radio; I watched the second half at Big-Ass Sandwiches. And that first half had TWO TIMBERS GOALS IN JUST SEVEN MINUTES, and the first? Only thirty seconds after the game had started.

Holy crap. Again.

The Timbers had not looked like a playoff team earlier this season: some great wins, some inexplicable losses, and a general feeling of unevenness. Not flat-out mediocre like their 2012 season, but frustrating: fans knew they could be better, the team knew they could be better.

Then, holy crap, they were. And they reached the playoffs for the second time (first was 2013) and, as fans always hope, kept going. Including a penalty kick shootout against Sporting Kansas City that went so long as to get almost surreal. (Eleven rounds. One KC penalty kick hit one bar, then hit the other bar, never going into the net.) Friends and acquaintances of mine were at the second-to-last game near Dallas, TX; several of those friends and acquaintances are in Columbus, OH tonight, celebrating like their lives depend on it. I'm really happy for them, on top of being happy for the Timbers.

THIS FEELS GOOD.

Congratulations, Portland Timbers. You now have the best reason for a team to go on vacation.

My life lately's been basic. Simple. At least there's been some social time. Last Sunday I hung out with one friend who'd just gotten back from London and a mutual friend, getting souvenirs while hanging out in a dive bar. Wednesday's social thing was at another friend's father's house. Parse that: this friend goes to her dad's house on Wednesdays to watch Survivor, and I asked (nicely!) if I could join them for this season's premiere, and they said yes. Which was nice, since they're nice people to visit with and I'd otherwise have to wait a week and a day to watch the episode through an app. Next episode I'll need to wait, but I can.

Work is work. Technical issues hobbled us a bit, sometimes a lot, last week; that contributed to work being a little slow. That and I was slower than I'd like. Still getting used to the amenities in the new building, including the elevators announcing the floors and when the elevators are moving. I still think I hear a hint of disapproval when the voice says "Going down..."

I've had a simple weekend. The farthest I've been from the house was the Fred Meyer 12 blocks away. Time to adapt to fall weather: hoodie (the one I have, from Big-Ass Sandwiches) and sweatshirts are out! I've made sure to wear my Oregon Ducks sweatshirt this weekend, too, after they lost badly yesterday -- if they were TRYING to lose, they in fact lost quite well, but that's not what I mean -- because I'm not going to be a fair-weather Duck fan. They'll be better. They'll be better.

(To amuse/ease the pain of a fellow Duck fan last night, I posted a description of me rocking back and forth, saying "It's still not the Toilet Bowl...it's still not the Toilet Bowl...")

There! Caught up.

One of the most consistently good baseball players and coaches ever, Yogi Berra -- may he rest in peace, and may his final years have been relaxing and comfortable -- once said the layout of a particular ball field meant that the late afternoon sun got into players' eyes sooner than expected. Or, as Berra put it, "It gets late early out there."

That is still probably my favorite Yogi-ism. Even more than when he was asked if a stadium streaker had been male or female and replied "I don't know, they were wearing a paper bag over their head." (Berra prrrrrrrobably thought he'd been asked if he recognized the streaker.)

A score of Infinity-Nil --
An impossible win in some impossible sport,
Won by a game ball changing shape at will and whim
With a goal a mile above the field
(A field changing from grass to rocks to water
To trampolines)
With another goal buried in a mountain
Reached only by regulation teleportation
(And watch out for when the refs disappear)
Where at least you can win style points
-- remember soccer's helicopter kick? Try a breakdance kick,
And singing the right song at the right time as you play? Gold --
But belching on the sideline docks you points
Only recovered by undoing your belch (un-belching!)
Or quickly writing "I Am Sorry" on the grass, when it is grass
And the Unknown Rule can kick in at any time
(do the refs or coaches or players know it? MAYBE THE GROUNDSKEEPER DOES)
Signaled only by the sideline flag starting to grow...

And a win still feels good.

"GODS PLAY SOCCER WITH SUNS AS BALLS."

I...I may be out of practice following the NFL.

My weekend:

Yelling at sports. Ah, the tension of a soccer tie.

Petting and scritching goats.

Walking a lot.

Driving a bit.

Looking for other possible places to live.

Resting: on Sunday I didn't get out of bed (except for needed functions) until noon.

Eating nicely, thanks to paying other people to feed me.

Avoiding squalls. We kept having sudden rain and hail Sunday. (Even some thunder. Woo hoo!)

Being me. Hey, I can always use more practice.